A/N: This is what I've spent the last two days writing instead of an update for You Look Better in Pearls... which I'm going to start on immediately once this is posted :) hope you guys like this, it's pretty random but it satisfied my urge to write a lemony oneshot, so yay me :p Enjoy! (I hope!)

December 31st, 2012, outside of a crowd of mostly drunk citizens celebrating the new year in the heart of Paris, France, stood an unimpressed, uncelebratory, and wholly unhappy, Selina Kyle.

It wasn't the city that she was unimpressed with, but the fact that she was here, alone, on the outside looking in, just like always. Everything had changed this year, and yet, somehow, nothing had changed.

He was here somewhere in the city, she knew, and if she knew him at all, he was probably watching her right now from some shadowy corner. Sometimes she tracked him down and watched him too, and sometimes, like tonight, she let him come find her. It didn't make a difference, though. Nothing ever did.

They'd parted ways two months ago, after spending most of the year traveling though Europe and some of Asia, fighting and arguing and making up in the best ways possible the entire time. It was push and pull, one step forward and two steps back always, and as enjoyable as the game was at first, eventually, they weren't able to outrun reality any longer. And reality sucked.

The reality was, they were two extremely guarded, damaged, wary, and untrusting individuals who couldn't seem to get past the obstacles between them. He would push her emotional boundaries, and she would push back, but they'd never much further than the many beds they'd shared over the months. They were both patient as well as stubborn, however, and when they weren't fighting or clawing each other's clothes off, they tried to accept things for what they were and let their relationship develop at its own pace.

A drunken couple stumbled past Selina, laughing and wearing oversized "2013" glasses while reeking of cheap beer and cigarettes, and she stepped further back against the wall she was leaning on to avoid any other near-collisions. She didn't want to think about him tonight, nor any other night, but that seemed more and more impossible with each passing day.

The day they separated was always close in her mind, to her eternal displeasure. It was a memory she despised, and therefore couldn't help but replay over and over throughout the day.

They'd been in Athens, in the penthouse suite of a hotel they'd spent the last five days in, and it was three in the morning. They'd spent the day bickering, pushing each other's buttons and taking each other to their limits until it culminated in one of the most insane, bedframe- breaking, mind-altering nights they'd shared to date. Lamps had shattered and probably thousands of dollars worth of damages had been incurred to the room, and yet when it was over, he'd held her tenderly and lovingly, like she was a breakable piece of porcelain and not a formidable lover that he'd just thrown all around the penthouse.

He was contradictory like that sometimes, and when it was dark and there was nobody but each other and nothing but shared gazes and soft touches, she wondered why in the world they spent so much of their time playing games and staying just shy of making any real commitments when obviously they had been made for each other. Usually she kept these thoughts to herself when they came, but tonight, she ventured out on a limb put far more on the line than she ever had with him, or anyone, before.

She was lying in his arms, facing him, and he was staring deeply into her eyes, caressing every part of her from her jaw to her shoulders and hips, looking at her like she'd always dreamed a man would but never actually expected. She twisted her fingers into his dark hair and contemplated all the reasons why she should keep her mouth shut, all the ways in which this could ruin everything, but in the end, she thought what the hell - she'd never shied away from risks before, and one of them had to be the one grow up and spit it out.

Selina blinked and rolled her eyes, shaking the memory from her mind and scowling as she left her comfortable place outside of the celebrations and began walking back to the hotel she was staying at.

Though she'd managed to push the memory's images out of her mind, the sound of her telling Bruce those damned "three little words" rattled about her brain and created an instant headache as she made the short walk home. Sometimes she still couldn't believe the way the words had made him panic and retreat so far into himself that she'd left the next day. Sure, he had a lot of reasons to be so guarded and resistant, but she only told him that she loved him, not that she wanted to take his last name and bear ten of his children. His reaction made her feel like a fool, and she made the very rash the decision to leave rather than deal with his emotional roadblocks and persevere.

She regretted it almost instantly. But she was stubborn, and if he wanted to work things out, he could come and find her himself. And he did.

He followed her across five different cities in as many countries in the last months, and though he never once in this time reached out to her with any attempted contact, she knew he was there. She was sure that he was also aware of the many times she'd decided to turn the tables and watch him from a distance the way he did her, and the ridiculousness of the situation never failed to strike her.

Women threw themselves at him often, even though he had a new name and was no longer Bruce Wayne to the world, and he always turned them down. She did the same when handsome European men tried to charm her with their poor English and good looks, though sometimes she was tempted to give them a go just in the hopes that it would piss off Bruce enough to the point that he'd finally make contact with her. She never did, though, because the only pair of lips she wanted to kiss belonged to the man that she'd left.

She stepped inside the hotel and quickly made her way to the elevators. A brief ride later, she was on the top floor, and she began making her way down the hallways and towards the roof.

She'd never greeted a new year anywhere but Gotham before, and no matter how grim her mood perpetually was lately, she had no intention of missing the fireworks that would be starting soon.

That was the thing about Bruce Wayne - his brooding could be contagious if you were around it enough, and being without his touch for the last few months had almost brought her to the point of wanting to find a batcave to sit and be moody in. It wasn't her style, though, and she had to keep reminding herself that her happiness and fulfillment did not hang on the whims and emotions of any man.

Selina took in a deep breath of the cold night air and stepped towards the edge of the rooftop, sitting down when she reached it and letting her legs dangle. Her view of the Eiffel Tower was breathtaking from here, and she mentally repeated her mantra of needing no one, not even the man she'd foolishly allowed herself to fall in love with.

But, she knew, it didn't matter that she didn't need him. She wanted him. She wanted him desperately, with every fiber of her being and every beat of her guarded heart, and sometimes, she wished he would just drop whatever game it was that he was playing and step out of the shadows and let her hear his voice one more time...

"You've always had a thing for rooftops."

She shook her head. Now she was imagining his voice. This was officially stupid.

"I know I deserve it, but please don't ignore me."

She froze.

Her heart suddenly pounding, Selina slowly turned her head around and let her eyes fall upon the man she loved. He was dressed warmly like she was, his hands in the pockets of his coat, and his dark hair fell just slightly into his eyes, just the way she liked it. He kept it long for her. She stared at the face that she'd missed so much, the curve of his lips and the lines on his skin that she used to count, but his dark eyes were what she'd missed most. Just looking into them made her heart jump into her throat and her knees weaken.

She wanted to run to him and slam him against the nearest wall and not let him go until she made him pay for everything he'd put her though. She wanted to scream, yell, maybe throw something. But she was Selina Kyle, not a madwoman.

She turned her eyes back towards the jubilant city and replied in a flat tone, "Give me one good reason not to."

She heard his footsteps grow closer, and a moment later, he was sitting next to her on the ledge, staring forward like she was. "I'm sorry."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" she retorted, still refusing to look at him again.

"I hope not."

She willed her heart to stop thumping against her chest, but it wouldn't, no matter how hard she tried to concentrate. Her whole body was suddenly on edge, alive again, just from him sitting next to her and speaking. She didn't even want to know what would happen if he touched her.

"I'm an idiot," he said. "I've spent the last two months kicking myself and trying to figure out why I did what I did."

"I can tell you that," she said. "It's not a big mystery. I told you that I loved you and you panicked. You didn't know how to let me in so you pushed me away after I took the biggest risk of my life. Then you became a stalker from hell, and here we are."

He only paused for a moment before he spoke again. "I've only loved one woman before. And she was never even mine. I don't..." he sighed and paused again before continuing, "I don't know how to do this."


"But I want to. I want to make it up to you. I want to do everything I should have done the first time around. I want you."

"Do you really think you can just walk up to me and say a few sweet-sounding things and just waltz back into my life?" she snapped, taking a chance and turning her eyes to him. "Do you think it's that easy?"

"No," he shook his head, returning her gaze and making her knees go weak again. "Nothing about us will ever be easy."

"I tried to make it easy for you. I put myself out there. I said something to you that I've never told any man before."

"I know."

"I knew it was stupid. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut but I said it anyway. And I've spent every day since then wondering when I let you turn me into this."


"And on top of that," she added, "I have to deal with you watching me everywhere I go like you give a damn. I know you don't, though, because of you did -"

"Selina, I love you."

Once again, she froze. She stared at him with hard eyes and felt her heart start pounding somehow even faster. The cool air suddenly felt hot, suffocating, and she scrambled to her feet, more ungracefully than she ever had in her life, and she began storming away.

"Selina, wait," Bruce called, quick to follow her. "Selina -"

"No," she said, turning around and slapping him hard across his face. "No. Don't."

"Selina, please, just -"

She slapped him again, harder this time. He winced a little but tried to step closer to her still.

"Just - Selina, please -"

She reached out her hand a third time, but he grabbed her wrist and held it tightly in his grasp. She raised her other hand and he subdued that one as well, and as she struggled against him, he swiftly pushed her back until she hit the wall of the stairwell that led back into the building.

He held her hands beside her head on the wall and eliminated the space between them, pressing his body against hers and bringing them almost nose to nose. A shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold, and she felt like a live wire against his touch. He knew full well what he did to her, and what he was doing to her right now, and she almost hated him for it.

"Listen to me," he whispered, his eyes falling to her parted lips before moving back up to her eyes. "I love you."

She shook her head slightly, barely able to stand how close his lips were to brushing against hers. "Don't."

"I love you, and I want to spend every day of my life proving it to you, Selina," he said, his voice breaking just barely, almost inaudibly. "Please, let me prove it to you."

His grip on her wrists had loosened almost completely, but she made no move to free herself, as she was far too lost in his eyes and far too aware that her ability to resist him was nonexistent at this point, never mind if it ever existed at all. She was breathing hard, and every breath was shared between them, making the air even thicker, and when those words had tumbled out of his mouth, it all became too much.


His eyes flickered down to her lips again when she said his name, and this time she couldn't stop herself - she threw her head forward and kissed him hard.

It was like being home again and wondering why you ever left in the first place. His hands left her wrists to hold her face, and her hands quickly moved to his hair as they kissed with all of the pent-up desire of two months apart from one another. His familiar taste made her head spin, and the way his tongue moved with hers made her nearly explode. A moan escaped her throat when his hands became more frantic and moved down to grip her hips as he pulled her even closer to him, and the sound made his breath hitch in his throat.

"God, I love you," he breathed in between heated, rapid, hard, blissful kisses.

"I love you, you bastard," she replied, unfastening his coat and sliding her hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

His mouth moved down to her neck and she gave up on trying to breathe or think, merely letting her body take the lead and respond to the overwhelming arousal he was causing to course through her overheating veins.

She had a handful of his hair twisted tightly in her fist when his tongue flicked out against one of the most sensitive places on her neck and teased as he did away with her own coat, letting it fall around her feet and then sliding his hands underneath her slim-fitting black sweater.

He dragged his lips up to her jaw and groaned, "I've missed you so much."

Then his lips were on her ear, his breath hot and increasingly labored, and as he kissed and nipped there like he knew she loved, he whispered roughly, "I want you, now."

She forced her eyes closed to keep from going cross-eyed, thinking that she might climax from just this and nothing else, but then he had her long hair in his hand and he yanked her head back to expose more of her neck to him while his other hand moved down towards her waist. He kissed her neck and then bit down hard enough to make her moan again, and then he his lips were on hers, hard but somehow also gentle, loving and yet brutal, and his wandering fingers dipped inside the waistband of her jeans.

She thrusted her hips forward automatically, not entirely in control of her movements anymore, and she whimpered when his hand slipped further under the fabric. She didn't care that they were on a rooftop in the cold or that her life had just made another monumental turn in the last minutes, and she didn't care that he'd rendered her powerless almost immediately - her missing piece was back in place, and the pain she'd been trying so hard to ignore was gone, and she was whole again.

Their lips were nearly already bruised when Bruce's fingers bypassed her panties and found their destination, and a small tortured sound came out of his throat when he felt how wet she was. She moaned with the first caress of his fingers and sunk her nails into his skin underneath his shirt, gasping when he wasted no time working her nub into a hot, throbbing mess of pleasure that she'd been deprived of for weeks. She bit down on his lip and he groaned, his hardness pressing into her thigh as she rocked her hips against the rhythm of his hand and felt herself begin to unravel an embarrassingly short time later.

She arched as she began to quake, and he watched as her mouth fell open and loud, ragged breaths erupted from her lungs, along with a few moans that almost brought him to a very premature end. He didn't stop moving his fingers until she became completely still against him and slumped forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder and trying to remember how to breathe.

His hand was back on her waist and his other was running through her hair when the sound of fireworks roused her from her brief stupor. She opened her eyes and watched as the bright exploding lights all around the Eiffel Tower marked the beginning of the new year, and for once in her life, everything was right.

Bruce was holding her, trailing kisses along her jaw as she watched the lights, and the show got old rather quickly in the face of the real celebration that awaited them back in Selina's room.

She pulled back slightly and lifted his face to hers, kissing him lightly as she she said, "That's one hell of a way to ring in the new year."

Beneath them, the city's revelry had burst forth fully and was in full swing now that the new year had officially arrived, and the sounds of partying wafted through the night air all around them. They barely noticed, however, and when Selina shifted slightly and kicked the door to the stairwell open with the heel of her boot, she placed her hand in Bruce's and turned to race back to her room, dragging him behind her.

Her heart was still pounding and her feet carried her to her door faster than she'd anticipated, and as she fumbled in her pockets for the key card, Bruce kissed the back of her neck and wound his arms around her from behind, making the task of locating the card even more difficult. She wasn't complaining, however, and when she did finally locate the blasted card and unlocked the door, she lifted the handle and they stumbled inside.

The room was completely dark but for the city lights and fireworks that illuminated the sky outside of the huge windows that enclosed the suite, and when Bruce picked her up and closed the door by slamming her against it, she reached out a hand to reach for a light switch to flip but instead sent the latest of many lamps flying to an early, shattering death. Oh well.

His hands gripping her hips securely, he spun them around and headed forward into the room, his lips urgent on hers and the hardness between his legs grinding into her thighs as he moved, and it must have been as distracting to him as it was to her, because he tripped over something in the dark and sent them hurtling to the floor.

He didn't miss a beat, taking position over her and pushing up the hem of her top as he continued to bruise her lips with his starved kisses, and when the annoying fabric was up and off of her, a familiar and pristine string of pearls were revealed to be hanging around her neck.

His eyes rose from the pearls to her eyes, and she said in between her heavy breaths, "I still don't ever take them off."

His eyes softened just a little bit, and he gently reached a hand to the necklace's clasp at the back of her neck and removed it. He placed it on a coffee table that was nearby and explained, "Just making sure I don't accidentally destroy those pearls tonight."

She bit her bottom lip, half because she loved this promise of mild violence, and half because she knew he liked it when she bit her lip. She had wondered in the past if he had something of a fixation with her mouth, but if he did it wouldn't have been surprising, considering the many ways in which she'd used her mouth to drive him wild over the last year.

He forced his eyes away from her lips and pulled his own shirt over his head, and she took the opportunity to scramble to her feet and race away from him towards her luxurious bed on the opposite side of the room.

"Selina," he groaned, chasing after her in the dark and catching her fairly quickly, though that was only because she let him catch her, of course. He pushed her against the nearest wall and yanked off her jeans from her long legs in several rushed movements before moving his hand to her back and unhooking her bra with one flick of his fingers, but before he could taste any of the newly exposed flesh, she'd grabbed him and slammed his back to the wall where she'd been a mere second earlier.

She kissed him hard and ran her fingers down his chest, reacquainting her hands with the ridges and curves of his muscles and the scars that were scattered along them. Her lips kissed a trail from his mouth and over her neck, and then her mouth replaced her fingers as they went to work farther south, removing the last few bits of clothing from the body that she'd been craving hopelessly for the last two months.

As much as she'd craved him, however, she wondered as she kissed over his stomach if his desire for her had been even more powerful, because his hands were gripping her hair painfully tightly and his movements were as erratic as his breath, and this was out of character. He seemed like he was trying hard to hold it together, and instead of going easy on him, she decided to punish him further for his old sins that had put him in this position to begin with.

Her knees hit the floor and she glanced up at his face once more before taking his raging erection and guiding it between her lips, kicking off the start of what would be a slow, unrelenting torture for Bruce, and that was the whole point.

He groaned at the first contact of her warm mouth and cursed when her tongue ran along the underside of his length. She then sucked lightly on the head and took almost the whole thing into her mouth before withdrawing suddenly and starting all over again. She only did one thing long enough to get him to moan and would then instantly switch, teasing him and giving him exactly what he wanted but never enough of it, just as she intended.

He groaned her name and she redoubled her efforts, wondering how long it would take for him to snap, and judging by the jerking of his hips and the way his hands were now shaking in her hair, it wouldn't be long.

He reached his limit when she let him hit the back of her throat and then withdrew her mouth entirely. He pulled her up to her feet by her hair and threw her against the wall again, growling, "You can stop punishing me now."

"You've always enjoyed my punishment," she grinned as he pinned her hands to the wall beside her head for the second time that night.

"Not as much as you enjoy mine," he rasped back before dipping his head down and bringing his lips to one of her very hard nipples and forcing a gasp from her throat.

He bundled her wrists together and took them both in one hand over her head so that he could touch the rest of her freely as his tongue swirled and teeth nipped feather-softly at her peaks, driving her literally up the wall, though he didn't think they were nearly even yet.

He released her wrists and then picked her up and carried her to the huge bed that awaited them, tossing her down on her back and holding her still by her forearms when she tried to immediately overpower him and flip them over. Her legs opened for him and then wrapped around his hips, however, and he grazed her entrance as his tongue explored her breathless mouth as if he'd never tasted her before today. She bucked her hips up and he almost slid inside, and as his lips left hers, she opened her eyes to find him gazing intently at her.

For a moment there was nothing in the world but their shared breaths and the pounding of their racing hearts, and when Selina reached up her hand to tuck behind his ear one of his longer front pieces of hair so that it was no longer tickling her cheek, he leaned down and pressed the softest of kisses to her lips. Then he thrusted inside of her.

It felt as pleasurable as it did painful - after two months without him, she had to take a moment, or two, to adjust to him, but at the same time, she couldn't help but moan into his ear. Vaguely, she registered that he was cursing again.

Then he finally moved, and she moaned again. He groaned and murmured, "Stop or I'm gonna be done in about two seconds."

"Stop what?"

He lifted his head and half-grinned, "Your moaning, I can't fucking take it... it's... Oh, God..."

She was grinning widely now, having just swiveled her hips and caused his voice to get stuck in his throat and his eyes to roll into the back of his head, and with little effort, she'd pushed him down to his back and made her way to the top.

He didn't allow it for long, and in a few moments she was on her knees and holding on to the bedpost while he entered her from behind, kissing the side of her neck and running his hands along every inch of her flesh that he could reach. The entire bed frame was shaking and she could have sworn that she heard the sound of wood splitting, and just as she nearly reached the pinnacle of the pleasure-pain being caused by his movements within her, she heard him growl something about wanting to see her face, and he pulled out of her and flipped her around.

He placed her in his lap and they stared at one another for a moment as she wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered herself down on to him. His face was flushed and his hair was damp with sweat, and his dark eyes were even darker than usual and displayed a wild hunger that came from deep inside of him. She kissed him as they started to move again, letting out another moan that she couldn't control due to the way this position allowed him to reach ideal places inside of her with nearly no effort. It was perfect, he was perfect, and she felt as perfect as she could ever hope to be.

His lips devoured her skin as their pace quickened, roaming from her mouth to her shoulder to her breasts and then up to her neck, heightening every sensation and every jolt of pleasure that was rocketing through her body, and just as their rhythm approached its breaking point and she knew she was about to come undone, he took her face in his hands and held it close to his as he whispered, "I love you."

She was so close, and those three words only took her closer to the edge. "God, I love you too."

"Don't ever leave me again," he pleaded, his eyes opening and boring into hers. "Please, tell me you'll never leave again."

"I won't," she half-cried, feeling the tension finally reach a head. "I promise."

Then she clenched down around him and shuddered violently in his arms, almost unaware of his own climax if not for the way his fingers dug into her and the way his voice spilled out roughly from his lips in a cry of pure satisfaction. She loved when he was vocal, and she loved that she could count on this being the just the first of many more nights like this to come in the new year.

Eventually, once he was breathing again, he lowered her down into the bed and took her in his arms, and they lay facing one another as the fireworks in the sky outside reached their end. He looked intently into her eyes and ran his fingers through her hair as he whispered, "Did you mean it?"

She nodded. "Did you mean what you said?"

"More than I've ever meant anything before in my life."

She knew what a monumental statement that was, and she knew what a monumental step this was for him. She could feel the shift in the dynamic, the leaving behind of so many walls that they'd run face first into whenever one of them tried to get closer to the other, and as terrifying as it was to be so open and vulnerable for the first time, she had no doubt that this was exactly where she was always meant to be.

Selina Kyle, the woman who never had a home, who made her way in life doing what she had to do to survive and feeling more and more like a stray cat with the turn of each new year, now knew that home didn't have to be a specific building or even a specific city. Home could be the person who held you at night and who looked at you like he'd never seen anything so perfect in his life.

Her home was Bruce Wayne, and now she knew that she'd never be homeless again.

"Happy new year," Bruce murmured, capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

She grinned and kissed him back. "Happy new year."