Here we go again

We're sick like animals

We play pretend

You're just a cannibal

And I'm afraid I won't get out alive

Oh, I won't sleep tonight

Oh, oh, I want some more

Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?

Take a bite of my heart tonight.

-"Animal", Neon Trees

Selina was never into alcohol.

She'd always had a fine palette, despite growing up in such an ugly financial situation. She suspected it was because of her background that the only type of alcohol she could stomach was wine. She loved the illusion it presented. Something dark, elegant, and sought after, but when tasted, it could be dry and treacherous. And she preferred red over white, every time.

She took another sip and extended one long finger, pushing her suitcase shut. That was it. All her earthly possessions—and she used the term loosely as she had stolen about half of the items she now owned—were stuffed away and ready to leave. So was she. Gotham held nothing else for her any more. She had a fresh start ahead of her. A new life.

Selina walked over to the window and edged the blinds apart, staring out at the city. Sunset had turned the skies into a brilliant kaleidoscope of oranges, red, pinks, and golds. She rarely ever bothered to look. Still, she couldn't enjoy it because her view let her catch a glimpse of the bay.

She drank more wine. She could taste nothing but bitterness now, a sour trickle down her throat. It was ridiculous, really. He had been an infuriating man with equally infuriating ideals. He'd sacrificed himself for an ungrateful city that had spent the last eight years tearing him down. Stupid. Reckless. Pointless. Noble.

She had pretended not to care. They had only shared a brief partnership and some mild flirting. A give-and-take. Waves on a shore.

Selina sighed, absently running her hand along her bare neck, wishing she'd been able to keep those damned pearls. A small shiver ran up her spine when she remembered the hot brush of his fingertips against her collarbone when he'd reclaimed the necklace, and the soft touch of his lips in the two kisses they had shared. Few men could make Selina Kyle bother to remember anything about them, but the more time that passed, the more she couldn't stop thinking about his rough hands, his piercing stare, his scent composed of expensive cologne and sweat, and the husky tone of his voice. He had buried himself beneath her skin and she hoped she could find a masseuse with enough skill to get him out.

Finally, the thief couldn't stand thinking about him any more and drained her glass, letting her hand fall away from the window.

"Goddamned idiot."

A male voice spoke from the doorway. "Anyone I know?"

She didn't turn at first. It had to be a trick. Just something her mind had made up in order to compensate for her feelings of loss. No way it was him.

Selina turned, slowly, and let her brown eyes trace upward from the floor. Polished Gucci dress shoes, black slacks, untucked white button up shirt, and a matching black suit jacket. Tousled hair. Strong jaw line. Piercing stare. Damn him.

She let her face remain blank, filling her voice with poison. "You lost?"

Bruce Wayne's eyes wandered around the room before settling on her. "Not anymore."

The edge of her lips tilted upward. "Cute trick. Anyone else know you made it?"

"Not yet."

"Then why me?"

He mirrored her smirk. "Good question. I'll let you know when I can answer it."

She placed the empty wine glass on the windowsill and walked towards him with a purposeful stride, stopping when they were only inches apart. He didn't move back. He just kept up that bloody staring that drove her crazy.

"So how did you think this was gonna work? You show up at my door, I fall into your arms, and we run away together? Please. Fairytales are for children and morons."

"That's not what I came here for."

"Then what?" she spat.

"I'm sorry."

Selina shook her head. "No, you're not. If you were, it wouldn't have taken you two weeks to show your face. So try again."

He slid his hands out of his pockets and she had the urge to step back out of habit. His posture shifted and she wasn't sure what to expect. He had always been unpredictable.

"I have a chance to do something I've never done before. So do you."

"What's that?"

"Start over."

"And you need me to do that?"

"No. I don't need you to start over. I want to start over with you."

Something unfurled inside her chest. An emotion she had locked away long ago. For the first time since she was a teenager, her voice wavered.


He smiled and cradled the side of her face in his hand, tugging her closer. Her eyes closed just before she felt his lips on hers, tentative, as if afraid she would reject him. The man who saved Gotham could look death in the eye and not flinch, but kissing her made him uncertain? Yeah. He was definitely an idiot.

She ran her hands up his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his clothing, and she knew for sure that they were the same. Covered in scars and filthy pasts, but still alive. They had risen together out of the ashes of Gotham.

"Well, Mr. Wayne, it looks like there's only one thing left to do," Selina said when she'd finally managed to pull away. Bruce arched an eyebrow in question. She flashed him a catty grin and brushed past him, walking towards the door.

"Grab my suitcase, would you?"


A/N: Couldn't resist writing this scene. I loved TDKR and couldn't get enough of Nolanverse Bruce and Selina. After, BatCat was one of my very first ships as a kid and I never stopped loving them. But show your love and hit that review button for me. Thanks for reading.