Selina stared out the window; the view had been her favorite part of their stay. She'd never been to London before Bruce came back from being dead and offered her a getaway. Wipe away who they were and leave Gotham for good. She had not expected to enjoy this, or him.
It was that morning, when she woke up to find him in the kitchen for the first time in two months, making her coffee the way she loved it. Cream and a splash of vanilla syrup. He had been too crippled since his series of accidents to do much after they left. His smile, his warm embrace, that caring gesture, sent her mind reeling. She did not love Bruce Wayne.
That's why she stood facing the view she loved second best in London, bags packed on her bed behind her. There was no stopping her now. She was leaving. She couldn't stand that feeling of need and being needed. It was too domestic for a stray like her.
"Where are you going?" Bruce's voice made her turn around, face masking a twinge of excitement at seeing him.
"I can't do this." Her voice was cold, unfeeling. She meant it. She had to.
"Do what?" Bruce looked concerned, eyes flickering between her and the bags. "Us?"
"There is no us, Bruce. There never was. There was me and then there was you. Then, now, forever."
"Selina," He reached to touch her shoulder and she pulled away as if he'd slapped her.
"I can't. Don't be like this." She brushed past him and he caught her hand, pulling her to him. "I said no."
"Selina you can't deny-"
"That I stole from you and will continue to steal from you." Twenty grand of his money sat in one of her bags.
"You stole the most valuable thing I have."
"What?" Her eyes narrowed, stiff as she allowed him to keep a hold on her.
"My heart." She stared at the ground, studying the hard wood floor and the fact he wasn't using his cane today.
Selina looked back, in awe by the looking he was giving her. Bruce pressed his lips against hers, this kiss hot and needy, passionate and meaningful. Was it a good-bye kiss? It was so similar to the kiss she'd thought was their final one. Back in Gotham. A life time ago.
She pried herself out of his hold, setting her jaw hard and spatting out the next words. "Don't say things like that. About needing me."
There was that arrogant Bruce Wayne chide he gave frequently when he knew he was right about something. "I never mentioned needing you."
"But your kiss did." She gave a sly smirk as she moved past him grabbing hear bags. "I don't do the needing girlfriend thing Bruce."
"Did I ask you to need me?"
"Just because I need you doesn't mean I want you to need me. I'm not asking to tame you Selina. I'm asking you to let me love you."
"You don't even know me."
"But I want to." This time it was Selina who gave into that need. The need she fought hard to deny. She rose up on her graceful tiptoes, pressing a delicate kiss to his lips, arms sliding around him. The closest he'd get to her accepting that she needed him too.
Selina curled up on her sofa in her little walk-up flat, a cup of tea on her coffee table and a box of chocolates on the sofa beside. The news was on, the volume set to twelve. Newspapers sat on the arm of the sofa and strewn across the floor beside the table. Both of the news outlets were informing the goodpeople of Gotham that the reckoning was over; the city was saved at the cost of the Batman's life.
She couldn't believe that the man had died. After eight years of hiatus and five months of imprisonment, he came back for a blazing finale. At least Gotham felt that it was his grand finale, the end of the opera, the death of the unsung hero. Selina felt differently about it. She ran a finger over her lips, remembering their final kiss. It hadn't felt like a good-bye, she'd had plenty good-bye kisses, no that felt like a soon. A promise. A foolish, foolish promise.
And here she sat, hauled up in her little flat, still filled with loot that had managed to avoid the thieving of the prisoners of Gotham's Prison. The stolen goods felt valueless, as Gotham sat ransacked and the caped crusader was dead.
Selina's head turned sharply, almost sensing something behind her front door. A thump, a gentle creak of the floor boards, and then a thud. She rose gracefully to her feet, swinging the door open.
"Bruce!" She stared down at the wet, battered, and still clad in his Batman costume. "Bruce you're alive." There was no typical dry sound in her tone; instead there was an urgency and a relief.
"Auto-pilot." He waved his hand towards her, trying to catch on to something as he supported his weight on his knees and clutched his sides. "A little faulty but… it let me eject and save Gotham." He pulled his hand away from his stomach, looking down at the crimson stain.
"Miranda-" He coughed as she started to help him up, "stabbed me." His eyes met hers, his face etched with pain. His mask was gone as was the cape.
"That was two days ago nearly." Selina's brows furrowed together as she looked down to where his hand was. "I'm no nurse, though I've certainly pretended to be one, but you need to see a doctor."
"No time. I want them to think I'm dead." He leaned into her as she started to walk him into her flat, shutting the door behind them. "Batman and Bruce Wayne need to be dead."
"They're going to know who you are." She said with a disapproving tone.
"Who I was." He winced as she sat him onto the sofa, a trembling hand reaching out to pick up the newspaper on the arm of the sofa. "The city makes plans to construct a statue commemorating their hero."
"You're certainly famous now." She crooned, sitting on the sofa beside him, curling her legs beneath her. "I knew you weren't dead."
Bruce shook his head, turning to look at her. "How?"
"Feline intuition." She retorted, leaning back against the sofa. "Why did you come to me though? Why not Alfred, Lucius, Blake?"
"Because you're the one I want to leave town with." His voice was so matter-of-fact, after two days of fully thinking through his plans. "I have money you didn't manage to rid me of when you bankrupted me-"
"Ah, I did not do that. I had no idea what Stryver was planning on doing with those prints." Selina raised a finger in protest, wagging it at him. "Don't kill that cat who drug in bad news for you."
"Nevertheless Selina, I have money. For us."
She toyed with the idea in her mind, leaving Gotham with a former rich billionaire, getting a fresh start. "What's in it for me?"
"A new life." He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched his side. She started to get up and he caught her arm, "I'm fine. I need you to bandage me up, but not until you decide."
Selina rolled her eyes, "Well, Gotham's going to take a while to start back up again. Bridges destroyed, people killed, valuables looted and scattered around the city-"
"You seem to have fared well," Bruce gestured around the room with a laugh.
"Better than you." She smirked.
"Touche." A genuine Bruce Wayne smile.
"I'll come. But don't get some beautiful idea in that injured head of yours that I'm doing this to be with you. I'm doing this to get the hell out of Gotham and have a fresh start." Selina crossed her arms, hoping her cheeks weren't turning pink like they felt like they were.
"I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be getting the hell out of here with." Bruce gave a warm smile as he watched her leave the room to find bandaging for the ache in his side.
Selina had still chosen to leave. After the kisses, the subtle realizations - it was all too much for her. Domesticity and a happy home was not part of her grand scheme in life. As it so happened, her grand scheme in life had all ended with a change of her name and a few strings Bruce had pulled to erase a good portion of Selina Kyle from the world. Today she was Meg Rosen. The name, though not entirely similar, was a reminder of her sister. Maggie, Magdalena. It was as close as she could get without fearing she'd blow herself out of the water. Selina Kyle was still a known thief, but she was no longer on most wanted lists, hitlists, websites. Bruce was good for something.
She stood in the underground station at Victoria, staring at a train ticket in her hand. It was set to take her to Bath. Far enough away from Bruce, but not entirely out of the country yet. Yet. There was a rather large "yet" floating above most of her actions during the last twenty-four hours. She didn't want to leave just yet, she didn't want to admit her feelings just yet, she wasn't ready for this just yet.
A "yet" was better than an "if" in her opinion.
"Train to Bath leaving in two minutes."
Selina looked up at the train that had arrived at the station moments before, this train would take her away from London for good. Once she left, it would be out of sight out of mind, and she would forget Bruce. Not that she could ever truly forget Bruce. He was too damn unforgettable. Crippled or not.
She let her tickets fall from her hands as she turned on her black heels and headed out of the station. She couldn't leave, not yet.
"Honey, I'm home." She said in her mocking tone. She shucked off her coat, stepping out of her heels, and slipping the scarf off of her neck. "Bruce?" There was no reply as she continued through the little flat they were living in.
"I'm in here." The reply was quiet and she followed it back into his bedroom. Bruce sat on his bed, dead center, with the strand of pearls she had stolen from him nearly a year ago.
"You kept them?"
"Of course I did." He replied as he ran his fingers along the strand. "My mother was wearing them the night she… died." Bruce looked up at her quickly before looking back down at them. "I want you to have them."
"You want me to have them?" She couldn't think of anything witty or sassy to say in reply. "They obviously mean something to you, you should keep them."
"I think my mother would have like you Selina." He ignored her words, "She liked a woman with wit."
"I'm flattered really," She pressed, shaking her head.
"Selina Kyle, turning down an offer of pearls?" His eye brows raised in amusement. "Come here."
"It's Meg now." She inched towards the bed, taking slow steps. "Meg Rosen."
"Selina Kyle." He replied, motioning for her to sit. Once she sat on the edge of the bed beside him, he brushed her dark hair to one side, reaching around to place the pearls on her neck. Just as he remembered his father doing for his mother before the Opera that fateful night.
"Bruce." She interjected, touching the strand around her neck. She loved the pearls, but it meant too much to him to give them to her. The sentiment frightened her. But as his lips brushed the apex of her neck she leaned back against him, warming at his touch. "But they're your mother's."
"And now they're yours." He turned her head and kissed her.
Selina let a sly smile curve her lips as she turned to face him, "You could have let me steal them at least." She bit her lip, letting it slip out of between her teeth's grip. "Where's the fun in you giving them to me?"
"Seeing you in them."
Selina purred in agreement, leaning in to kiss him again. The kiss was different from the first, there was need in her kiss, passion, desire, love. She had kept putting this off until yet another yet. But this was now. This was him. This was her. This was them.
"I dropped a hundred pounds on the station floor today Bruce. For us."
"Us?" His eyes brightened and he pulled her closer to him.
"Us." Selina pushed him playfully, "Don't question me or I might just decide to go back to thinking that there is no us. Alright?"
"Promise me this-"
"I don't make promises Bruce."
"That's because you steal them."
"Well here's to stolen promises." Selina started to pull away from him, laughing as he tugged at her, pulling her back towards him. "What? Do you think I'm a girl who puts out before a date?"
"You're in luck, I am that type of girl." She let him pull her into the bed with him, tugging at clothes and heart strings as they gave into the idea of one, instead of two.