Old Batman Stories, Part 8
Sep. 21st, 2022 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apachefirecatThat Slow Healing Touch, posted 5-24-17, rated T/PG-13
Characters: Harley/Ivy
Harley's slowly falling in love with Ivy.
There's a part of her mind that remains, hidden underneath every giggle and bat of her eyelashes above her big, blue eyes. There's a part of the genius that remains of the woman she once was before the Joker started breaking her spirit and mind, the very essence of who she once was. There's a part of her that remains that even Harley forgets is there. She'll hear fragments running through her head, spoken by sounds like an entirely different woman, and in a way, she is.
Or she was. It's all too confusing for Harley when she remembers flashes of her past life and hears words like the things she would have once said, diagnoses she would have once made, quotes by greater minds than hers that was once both familiar to and prized by her. The beliefs that woman took for granted are things Harley can't even understand now. She never thought she'd change. She'd never thought she'd become this, but he has done this to her.
He has crippled her spirit, raped her mind, broken her body multiple times, and yet still, she follows him. She does things every day of her life that the woman she once was never would have thought she'd do, especially not for a mere man. She had worked hard to make her way through a man's world. She knew what monsters men could be, and yet she'd fallen for one of those very monsters, one of the worst ever, indeed, to walk the streets of Gotham.
Sometimes, in her dreams, she remembers what she was like before she met him. She remembers, too, how he made her feel. She had been so full of doubts and heavy thoughts back then and had had so very few reasons to smile. She had lost everybody she'd loved, - and then she'd met him and despite all her barricades, despite all her carefully constructed walls, she had learned to love again. She had fallen in love with a monster. Hers was a true Beauty and the Beast tale but not with the happy ending that so many fairy tales possess.
Her story was a lot more like the original tales the Grimm Brothers told. Her Beast was not good, but he was charming. He was not a Prince in disguise but a devil, a devil who reached inside her, reached pass all her carefully protections, and broke them all down one by one. He broke them all down and reached his claws deep inside of her, withdrawing what he wanted and leaving behind the reasoning, intelligent, brave woman she had once been. She had thought she could cure him, but instead, he all but destroyed her.
Sometimes she remembers, especially in her dreams. Sometimes the woman she was whispers reminders to her consciousness now. She knows when he's going to attack her again. She knows when he's going to take his anger out on her again. She knows when he's looking to break yet another piece of her spirit, of her soul, and of her heart. Sometimes, she doesn't run. Sometimes, she just lets him take her, but other times . . .
Other times, she runs. Other times, she flees into the one place where she still feels safe, to the one person besides the Joker for whom she's actually come to care very deeply. Sometimes, she suspects Pamela knows what he does to her. Sometimes, she thinks the other woman wants to take her away, steal her away from the Joker and flee the country, but she knows what will happen if they ever do that again. He suspected too greatly the last time, but she convinced him, playing the part he had made for her in this cruel and dark world, that she only had eyes for him.
She convinced him she could feel for nobody else. She turned Pam into the fuzz and ran away with him again. But what Ivy doesn't understand is that she was infinitely safer in Arkham than she was with them at the time. Harley can't stand the thought of seeing the Joker break another woman, let alone one as strong, beautiful, passionate, and caring as her Red. If he finds them again, she'll have to do the same thing: She'll lock her away where he can't reach her, lock her away where she'll be safe. Ivy will be furious with her again, but she'll forgive her again with time.
She always forgives her, even when Harley doesn't dare ask for her forgiveness. It's almost as though she can see inside of Harley, as though she understands the troubles she faces when they're not together, as though she knows what that monster does to her when she's with him, and sometimes not even when she's alone with him. He's beaten her in front of his little mob groups. He's even let them grope her, let their nasty, filthy hands go all over her body as though they were going to get to claim the boss' piece, and then shot them dead while they still touching her.
Harley closes her eyes, remembering the nightmares and shivering even though it's a bright, hot Summer day. She feels Pamela's lips brush softly across her pale, scarred forehead, but she doesn't open her eyes until she whispers encouragement for her to do so. "Open your eyes, baby. Open your eyes and look at me. Look into mine."
As she does so, Harley feels her breath and heartbeat still in the single second their eyes lock. Something deep inside of her flutters, and again, she remembers a piece of her prior life. There had been something about the Joker that had stopped all other thoughts, all warnings, all common sense, all the rules she'd made for herself to carefully survive a man's world. There had been something about his eyes that, when locked with hers, had made her shiver with excitement in a way that nothing else ever had.
Pamela's eyes don't make her shiver. They fill her with a warmth instead, a soothing, gentle warmth that seeps into Harley's every pore and spreads throughout her whole body and into her very soul. She feels like the sun, and like her plants, Harley always finds herself careening toward her, wanting more of her warmth, more of her own, private sun.
Fear always traces through her when Joker touches her. Wherever his hands touch, Harley knows too well might be the next spot where he strikes her. She never expects a caress without fearing a blow from him. But where his hands are cruel and powerful, Ivy's hands are gentle, carefully, soothingly spreading over her skin until she's successfully stopped her very last shiver of fear.
"I'll never hurt you, Harls," Ivy whispers, stroking her neck with long, gentle fingers and lifting her head to keep eye contact with her. "Never," she vows.
"I know," Harley whispers in response, and she does. For all the cruelty she's endured with the Joker over the years, Ivy always gives her nothing but love. There are times when she's frustrated with her, times when she makes her angry, but Ivy would rather strike one of her precious babies than ever blow apart on her. Unlike the Joker, who does so little but hurt her, Ivy will never hurt her.
"Kiss me again, Red," Harley whispers for there is power as well as warmth in her secret lover's kiss. There is power and warmth and a tingling every time their lips meet that Harley thinks might be healing. She's watched Ivy heal her plants before, fuse vines together where they have been broken, raise buds from where they have been smashed and breathe new life into them. Harley suspects she's trying to do the same thing with her.
There's a part of Harley even that, if she's honest with herself, knows that's exactly what Ivy wants to do. She's healing her slowly but surely, and these days, Harley's remembering more and more of the woman she used to be, the woman she'd like to be again, the woman she'd like to introduce Red to, the woman who might just be worthy of loving Pamela back. And her memories aren't always relegated to her dreams now.
As Ivy's lips touch hers again and again, always so gentle and yet with growing passion, Harley remembers how she used to forget everything when Joker kissed her, all her worries, all her fears. She'd wanted more of the freedom he'd promised her so badly that she had done the unthinkable, not only breaking him free but eventually killing for him. But the freedom he'd promised her had turned into a prison.
Now, with Ivy's arms around her, her hands softly massaging her skin, her lips breathing new life into her, Harley's beginning to feel free again. She's beginning to feel so free a part of her could sing but not giggle. The laughter is dying away, but her heart is soaring. She used to equate the Joker's kisses to narcotics. He'd made her forget everything, but he'd been the bad kind of drugs, the kind that stripped a woman of every good thought and aspect she had, that took away everything and gave nothing in return.
But if Joker's kisses was the bad kind of narcotics, Pammy's love is the good kind of drug, the kind that, after all this time, she needs so desperately, the kind that really is healing her. Her kiss is a drug, one more powerful even than the Joker's meant to rebuild what he tore apart, but like any good narcotic, soon, Harley's mind is slipping away again. Her memories fade once more. Her thoughts cease, and all that remains is how wonderful Ivy makes her feel. Her brain stops thinking at all as Ivy makes love to her. Only one thought remains: how desperately and completely she would love to stay right here with Ivy in her garden forever more. Maybe, she thinks before she gives herself up entirely, maybe one day, when she's whole, she can.
The End
The Bat's Gift, posted 7-18-06, rated K/G
Characters: Bruce/Selina
A present is left for Batman, but who is it from?
When he had first spotted the Batsymbol lighting up the sky, Bruce Wayne had stifled a frustrated sigh. He had hoped that he would be able to spend the night with his family as Dick, Barbara, and Tim were all visiting for the holidays and Alfred was baking cookies for all, but as every year before since he had first donned the cowl that now concealed his handsome features, he was reminded that criminals did not even take Christmas Eve off. Indeed, they were always hatching a new devious plan, causing more havoc, or simply trying to conquer or destroy the world. Perhaps, one day, he would finally be able to realize that men like him were never granted even a moment of peace.
As Batman swung onto the roof of Gotham City police headquarters, his blue eyes carefully scanned every inch of the roof and what he could see beyond. His lips drew into a thin, emotionless line as he failed to spot the man he had expected to be waiting for him. Even as he wondered where Commissioner Gordon was and whether he was in trouble, his sharp eyes spotted the item that set directly in front of the Batsignal.
The Batman froze as his eyes carefully scanned the item as well as he could in the harsh light of the Batsignal. It was wrapped in bright Christmas wrapping paper, and the top was tied with a red string. Some one had left him a present, and that could undoubtedly only mean one thing. It was a trap.
His head turned slowly as his eyes once more carefully swept every inch that he could see, but he saw nothing moving nor out of place except for the sole object. His eyes returned to the object as he walked slowly toward it, the icy winds of the Winter night rustling his long, black cape behind him. As he drew nearer, he raised a covered arm to block the light from his eyes and face.
Despite his slowed pace, his long legs still drew him quickly to the item. Kneeling before it, the Bat slightly pressed his ear to the package and held his breath as he listened intently. No sound met his ear, and he drew back. Reaching into a compartment on his Batbelt, he pulled out a tiny tool that he opened to reveal a considerably larger tool. Keeping one eye constantly on the lookout and his other staring down at the report printed out in the small screen, he ran the tool over every inch of the package.
When not even that tool could report anything unusual, a slight frown pulled at his lips for just a second before his face returned to his normal stoic, emotionless mask. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he picked up the package and raised it off of the cold cement. When nothing happened, he continued to hold it as he turned and walked out of the light. His gloved hands felt carefully of the package. It seemed to be a statue of some sort, but it was nothing he immediately recognized.
His fingers reached up to slowly untie the ribbon. Just as slowly, he pulled aside the wrapping paper, and despite himself, a startled gasp escaped his mouth as the silvery light of the moon illuminated the Bat and the familiar statue he held in his hands. His eyes widened in shock as they examined the statue.
The Dark Knight stood proudly in the firm grasp of the Batman's hand. Every detail was etched to complete perfection, and Bruce could not help but marvel at what sculptor could have possibly captured him to such a remarkable point. His thumb brushed over a small rise in front of the statuesque Batman's ankle, bringing his eyes to that area of the statue. His shock and surprise only grew as he stared down at the black cat wrapped tightly around the smaller Batman's boot, and a mixture of emotions swelled in his heart.
It was no villain that had brought him out tonight. This had not been a trap, after all. It was love that had made him leave his warm abode - the love of a certain Cat whose beauty filled his brain each time he closed his eyes and whose gorgeous, emerald eyes never left his mind. His heart rose into his throat, forming a lump that felt to be the size of a baseball bat, as he continued to stare down at the statue. Catwoman had left this for him, and though there was no written message, he still perfectly understood what words could never tell.
She missed him just as terribly as he missed her. She still wanted him. She still loved him despite everything they had done to each other. Just as the statue was not complete without the cat or the Bat, they were two parts of one whole, each eternally empty without the other.
Despite all that that one statue said, he had to wonder. Did he dare to think that she might have been able to forgive him for locking her up so many countless times? Did he dare hope that there might yet prove to be a way for them to be together again? Although he had long ago been forced to accept that they would never agree on laws or those who were in charge of enforcing them, he still cared more deeply for her than any one else he had ever encountered in his entire life. Rather he was Bruce or Batman or she was Selina or Catwoman, he still loved her with a burning love so intense that he had once feared, and still did at times like now, might consume him, with a love that could never be stopped no matter how he tried or what she did, with a love that would last for the rest of time and into whatever lay beyond.
As Bruce struggled desperately to maintain his composure as Batman, snowflakes began to fall gently but swiftly. In the shadows, unseen emerald eyes filled with tears as she watched him turn and walk away. Her heart thundered in her chest, begging her to go to him, as she watched his Batcable shoot out and catch securely. Just as it always did whenever he left, her heart broke a little more as he swung away into the dark night. As he moved swiftly over rooftop after rooftop, clutching his gift securely to his heart, he carried her heart with him just as always. As Catwoman turned in one direction and Batman continued on his way home, a single tear fell from each brave soul's eye. Perhaps they would be granted a miracle and be able to be together one night, but tonight was not that night.
The End
The Cat Gets The Bat, posted 2-27-12, rated T/PG-13
Characters: Bruce/Selina
The Cat finally gets the Bat.
Cats are known for many traits. Their beauty, pride, and elegance is noted by any one who looks upon them with open eyes and heart for even a few scant seconds. As many of them who are as fine walking the city streets alone are also good with families, and they can truly be a girl's best friend, far better than any diamond or man. One of their aspects of character has been spoken about for centuries; used in plays, books, and movies; and yet still, only those who really become close to them know how true those old sayings of a cat's patience are.
A cat's patience knows no end. Oh, she'll complain to any one who'll listen to her meows and show her impatience in the whippings of her tail or the strikes of her claws. Yet she'll still preserve her patience once she knows what she wants and where to get it. She'll find the hole of her prey and wait for hours on end or, on occasion, even days for the mouse to squeak out of hiding just so that she can grasp it in her claws and sink her teeth into its warm and wriggling flesh.
Those games of cat and mouse have been going for ages, longer than man has been writing tales even, but none has ever been like the one I am about to win within just the next few seconds. Instead of hours or days, I've waited for years to win this battle. I've had my rodent of choice in my teeth before, under my claws, under my body, and in my bed, but still, every time I've thought I've had him at last, he's found a way to buck me off and run off into the night.
Part of me keeps waiting for it to happen again this time. Every time some one coughs, whispers, or even sneezes around us right now, I'm expecting the Batsignal to light up the sky or some other disaster to happen and have the one I've chosen sweeping off and away from me again. I clutch his arm. We both know my claws are digging slightly into his flesh, but only I truly know the reason why. He thinks I'm just nervous, perhaps suspects I'm the one having second thoughts, but that's not the case. I'm not letting him get away from me this time.
It's happened too many times before, on more occasions and in more ways than I care to recall. He's used every excuse in the book to escape my clutches, but not this time. I'm not getting pushed aside today for any reason. If he goes somewhere, I'll follow him, and then I'll drag him back, by tooth or claw if necessary, to this spot where, for now, we belong. He's mine, and soon, the entire world will know it.
I feel like I have more eyes on me right now than ever before. It's probably really not the case. I've bound to have been gawked at by more people before several of the times he's dragged me off to Arkham. It's probably just the fact of who these people are that has my skin itching and my back riled. All of his sidekicks and his trusted butler, too, are just mere footsteps away. Plus, this place is packed with every hero and every newspaper columnist ever to walk or fly through Gotham.
He thinks I've got none of my own here, no backup to call upon, but he's wrong. He doesn't need to know he's wrong, I think, as the man before us begins to speak and my ruby red lips twist up into a wry grin. My family is here, hiding amongst his, lurking beneath the benches, sticking their tiny, furry faces out amongst the legs of his unsuspecting Gothamites. They're peeking through the windows and the doors, too, which are open because I insisted they be left wide open for the Spring breeze which is even now tugging at my long, white dress.
As I stand there, holding to his arm, gripping his flesh in my claws, I can't help but to think back over the years. I've had my eye on him for a long time, and we have been through all sorts of crazy adventures together, him chasing me as well as myself running after him. I've tasted the wonders of his flesh and listened to his heart pounding many nights and some days, as well. We've danced together throughout both disaster and ball rooms. We've saved the world and rescued innocent lives, and he's thrown me into jail so many times that we've both lost count.
I didn't think the great Bat detective would ever lose track of anything, but he has admitted to me that he can no longer recall the exact amount of times he's thrown me behind bars. I think it's really because he doesn't want to remember. He knows I've a good heart and soul, though we'll never agree on how best to save the innocents who deserve rescuing, and he'll never agree that my family deserves rescuing far ahead of most of his supposedly innocent humans. The law has stood between us for far too long, but it's never going to separate us again. I've finally come to his side, and he doesn't need to know that I still believe in my brand of justice. I'll pull him over to my way of thinking eventually, once I have him purrmanently in my claws where he belongs.
I gaze into his beautiful, baby blue eyes as he answers the man standing before us with a heavy, black book in his hands, and my heart skips a beat. I know he can hear my heart pounding; I hear his, too, beating in the same, powerful, and lovely rhythm as my own. We've beat together for years now, breathed together, too, and it's much more than just wanting him in my claws that's made me hold to the patience that the Saints are purported to have possessed. Any other woman, and any cat, too, would have given up after all these years, but not I. I tried to a few times, but every time I walked away from him, every time I faked my death to get him to stay out of my life, I found I could not stay away from him.
My claws finally release his flesh. My hands travel down his muscular arms and grasp his hands. Everything in the room is quiet except for my babies. I can hear them purring in their hiding places amongst the humans, and I realize that I, too, am purring. I'm purring, and there are tears in my green eyes. They are, however, for one of the extremely rare times in my history, tears of happiness. I've only cried, maybe, three times in my entire life from joy, and every time, he has been the reason those tears have sprung.
He cups my face in his hands. His touch has always been so warm, so comforting, and reassuring. I want more of it now as I always have before. I step closer to him, smiling through my tears, and my heart soars even higher as I notice the tears reflecting back to me in his own blue orbs. He'll never admit he's fighting tears, but he doesn't have to tell me for me to know. I know this man, both sides of him, and I have loved him almost ever since I first met him.
At that time, I thought he was the enemy, and he believed me to be his most trying foe. We played that game for years, trying to force ourselves to be the other's opponent, when in truth, though what we believed was completely different at the time, we both wanted the same thing. We have loved each other, I realize now, since that first moment our lips touched while we were battling. We've both yearned for this moment ever since, but so much has stood in our way - the law; our crazy, twisted lives; our different beliefs; the world. No more! I want to mew, and I see that declaration reflected in his misting eyes. We'll never let anything else stand between us again!
We have been meant to be together all this time, destined for one another since the moment we were born and brought into this reality whose world, though it can be so harsh at times and almost always was until we found each other, actually looks like a beautiful place when I gaze at it from his loving arms without handcuffs or ropes holding me back. It is beautiful, I realize. It's been made beautiful through the eyes of love, and it is ours for the taking!
We'll take it together from this day forward! We'll stop the thieves and killers. We'll free the enslaved and save the innocents. I'll help him to see that cats need our help worse than the humans, and when the time comes, I'll show him why my brand of vengeance is the right way for it doesn't let the enemy come back to kill some one else. I'll help him see the truth and be the rock he'll need in that time, holding him and supporting him through whatever else may come.
I used to be a thief myself, but those days are over. Although I'll still seek vengeance and right the wrongs cast upon my babies, I'll no longer steal anything again. I made him that promise a month ago when he asked me to come here to this place with him and say the words I am about to speak before the world. When I made that vow, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to keep to it, but now I know I will. I won't steal another item ever again for as long as I live. I've no further need of jewels, diamonds, necklaces, or any other kind of riches for I've the most wonderful treasure for which I could ever seek right here in my arms, the man who loves me waiting for me to love him back which, of course, I always have and forever will.
The man in black is speaking to me now. For a change, the man in dark clothing isn't a hero or a villain. He's a simple civilian, a friend of Bruce's. He's the man who married his parents, and now he's the man who shall marry us. "And do you, Selina Kyle, take this man, Bruce Wayne, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death do you part?"
"I do," I purr, smiling from ear to ear like the cat who just ate the canary in front of an entire church full of people. I have no appetite for bird nor mice. I want bat. I always have, and from this day forward, I shall never go hungry again! I shall have what I want and give to my beloved husband, and my darling babies, still all that they want! "And even after," I add, still purring, murmuring the words against Bruce's lips for he's already pulling me close, preparing to seal the most important deal of both of our lives.
"If there is any one who has a reason that this man and this woman should not live in holy matrimony from this day forward, let them come forward now or forever hold their peace." I hear a few of my babies hissing softly, as well as a few of my darling Bruce's friends murmuring. Some of them still wonder how he ever fell in love with me, but I know how. He saw my inner soul and fell in love with me for who I am, just as I saw beneath his valor and do gooderness to the real man within who, although that same courage and determination to do right is still a large portion of that man, is so much more wonderful than I ever would have guessed when I first wrapped my whip around his throat. The humans hush. They wouldn't dare speak aloud their complaints for they know that we both would rip into them - if there was even anything left to rip, after my babies were done.
The preacher smiles and shuts his book. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Happy applause and joyous meows fill the church. There's a few screams, too, as my Brucie's beloved Gothamites finally see my babies as they streak out from underneath the pews to come milling around our legs.
For the first time in our life together, Bruce doesn't immediately slip into his Batman persona to pay full attention to the screams. The people might as well not even be screaming right now for he certainly doesn't appear to hear them. He's too busy kissing me, and he has my full attention, as well, as I kiss him back, purring still deep in my throat, and curl my body around his muscular frame. We kiss long and deep as some of his friends rush out of the church and others try to regain the peace, but none of their screams or words penetrate our moment of bliss.
He pulls me up into his arms, and I go freely and happily. Still, he doesn't cease kissing me even as he sweeps me up. My fingers curl into the silken locks of his jet black hair, and I deepen our kiss as he starts running with me. He isn't going to let any one disturb our moment or our special day. He doesn't condemn me for having my cats come along. He understands at long last that they are as much my family as he is.
From a far distance, I hear his eldest sidekick calling to his butler to get the limousine. The screams have subsided; laughter reigns instead. Tires screech outside. Rice and catnip is being flung; it covers our skin, hair, and clothes. Still, Bruce doesn't look up. He keeps kissing me, and I return his kiss in full, my hands softly and lovingly caressing his handsome face and hair as we dash out of the church and into his limousine. People and cats alike are both running behind us.
Even now, I am aware of my babies and their presence. I know when two other doors are opened on the limousine, and they clamber inside just before we take off. They're safe, and their momma is the happiest I've ever been. I lean into my beloved husband, pushing him back in his leather seat, and my tongue dips into his mouth as I hear the window between butler and millionaire snap shut. No one sees us now, but it wouldn't matter if the whole world was still watching. I love my husband, both sides of him, the millionaire who was once, but never shall be again, a playboy and the dashing, heroic, and often vastly aggravating Batman, and as we ride away as Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Wayne, I show him how much I love him, purring deeply and kissing him like there is no tomorrow.
Yet now, for the first time in my life, I know there will always be a tomorrow. Our futures stretch a long, long way ahead of us, shining and sparkling with the brightness of our love that fills them and curling together, as do our bodies and our hearts, as we have been meant to do forever. "I love you, Bruce!" I purr in between kisses. "I love you, Batman!"
"I love you, Selina, Catwoman!" His hands are everywhere at once on my body and tangled in my hair, as are mine on his body. Our mouths crash together again, kissing again and again and pouring more passion and love into each kiss for our love does grow with every time we touch. As we kiss, celebrating the union of our hearts and souls from which we shall never try to run again, our hearts soar out of the limo, beyond the clouds, into the great beyond that's never looked brighter than it does right now as I curl into my husband's lap and we love each other with all that we are forever more.
The End
The Changing Tides (of the Female Gender), posted 4-15-13, rated K+/PG
Characters: Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Barbara
Alfred's advice to young Bruce still holds true today.
Robin's exasperated voice crackled through the Batcom. "I don't even know what I said!"
"It may not even be what you said," Batman returned evenly, "but what you didn't say."
"Huh?"
"Look, Robin, Batgirl's a loyal confidante and a fighter. There's nobody else I'd prefer at my back besides you two. But she's still a woman."
"Of course she's a woman! I wouldn't have half the trouble I have with her if she wasn't!"
Batman chuckled. "If she wasn't the woman she is, you also wouldn't have that trouble, because you wouldn't be dating her. All jests aside, though, Robin, Alfred once told me something about women the first time I had trouble with a girl."
"You had girl trouble?"
"We all do."
"So what did Al tell you?"
"He told me women's moods change as often as the changing tides, but unlike the tide, they're completely unpredictable. You never know what you're getting when. Poison Ivy is one of our deadliest enemies but has a benevolent side."
"If you're a plant," grumbled Robin.
"I've known Harley Quinn to be serious."
"Serious? Harley?!"
"Watch her the next time she gets away and we imprison Joker."
"Point taken. But, Bats, how am I supposed to apologize if I don't even know what I did?!"
"It might be what you didn't do." He was about to say more when he noted movement on the building beneath him and smiled. "Batman out."
"But - "
Batman flipped his Batcom off and swung down onto the rooftop. The moon was full. He knew Selina's catnip was beginning to grow, and Spring meant mating season. He'd been enjoying their trysts every night lately but was caught off guard when she suddenly sprang at him. He grunted as the claws in her boots scratched his ribs. The motion threw him off course, and he landed, hard, on the building.
"Serves you right," Catwoman growled. The lithe, black cat draped around her neck swished its tail for her; both female's emerald eyes glowered down at him. "Sneaking up on a woman."
"I thought we were going to meet - " Batman tried to get to his feet, but she sprang again, grabbing his cowl in both hands and jamming her knee into his face. He shoved her off and bounded to his feet while she was recovering. "Selina, I thought we were beyond this!"
"You thought wrong!" she hissed and snarled when she approached.
His keen eyes surveyed her; she hadn't stolen anything. There was no reason for him to fight her. "I don't want to fight you."
"Then don't follow." She swung off into the night, still snarling and left him to scratch his head in confusion. It wasn't her time of the month. He hadn't caught Bullock's interview where he'd stated that the Commissioner and the Batman were working together to bring her in. Nor did he know that she had a sick kitty at home or a new enemy in town. "Women," he muttered, recalling again Alfred's advice and wishing the waters of life could stay calm for once.
The End
The Fallen Dark Knight, posted 7-13-06, rated PG/K+
Characters: Bruce/Selina
A routine chase between Batman and Catwoman leads to something unexpected...
Police sirens blazed below, their blue lights lighting the dark streets of the city. "Give it up, Catwoman!" Batman called again, his voice firm though with just the tiniest notch of what she had come to know was his hidden concern for her.
She pulled herself to another rooftop and then shot off her grappling hook again as she returned the same words she had so many times before: "Neverrrr, Batman!"
Just as he arrived on the rooftop, she left again, sailing through the air and passing several more buildings. "You can't escape this time, Catwoman!" he called again as he continued to follow her in swift pursuit.
She licked her lips as she called seductively back to him, "You say that every time, Bats, and every time you're wrong!"
"Not every time!" he argued.
"Every time that matters!" she responded without hesitation as she landed again and shot off her grappling hook once more. She knew she should find a way to lose him, but she was enjoying their game too much that night to let the fun end so soon. He landed behind her, and she turned to smile beguilingly at him.
His heart skipped a beat as she smiled at him, and he drew closer to the beauty that the full moon cloaked in its silvery light before him, as if tempting him to reach out and try to grasp her with his gloved fingers only to find her gone again before he could. Slowly, he reached out a hand as he commanded, "Give me the money, Catwoman."
"Neverrrr," she protested in a seductive purr that threatened to melt him on the spot. Holding her loot even closer to her bosom, she backed up, and terror filled his face as she came too close to the ledge.
"Don't!" Batman cried out even as Catwoman calmly stepped off of the building. He ran to the side and looked down only to find that she had already hooked her grappling cable and was flying away again. He started to follow her but froze in terror, his blue eyes shooting wide behind his cowl, as he saw her cable begin to break. Swiftly, the Dark Knight threw out his own Bathook and began to drop.
Catwoman's cable broke, and she began to plummet toward the pavement far below long before Batman even began to near her again. Her eyes met his as she fell. She wanted to cry out but could not find her voice. His terror grew when he witnessed the fear in her emerald eyes, and he dropped faster than he ever had before. He was not coming fast enough, she thought frantically as she saw her forbidden love trying valiantly to reach her, and she clawed madly at the air, desperately trying to slow her descent. The bags of money slipped from her, and a panicked mew broke from her lips as she felt the heat of the pavement rushing up at her. She tried to memorize his sexy eyes and handsome face before finally shutting her eyes as she braced herself for the end.
Mere seconds before it would have been too late, strong arms caught her. Her arms went instinctively around his neck as he swung them into a dark, abandoned alley. Releasing his Batcable, Batman's free hand rose to softly stroke her cheek. Her eyes opened, and she smiled as she looked up into his scared face and worried eyes. There was no need for words between the two for they read each other perfectly without either making a single sound.
His mouth lowered towards hers, and hers welcomed his. Their tongues slipped into each other's mouths, sparking a passionate duel. They clung to each other in mad passion, their heated bodies pressing tightly together despite their leather costumes. Slowly and reluctantly, when their lungs finally forced them to break apart for burning need of oxygen, they continued to stare lovingly into each others' eyes. It was Catwoman who eventually broke the silence. "So I suppose you're going to try to take me in now?" she asked him softly, her eyes searching his.
"Not tonight," was his throaty reply. He knew he should, but he found that he could not even as he set her on her feet. It took every last inch of his will to walk away from her, but even then he was forced to finally accept that she was the only criminal who he would never again be able to put back behind bars. Though she had been the one who had been falling, it was he who had truly fallen. He knew that he would never be able to climb back up again out of the prison others called love, but what scared the Batman was that he also knew, in his heart of hearts, that he never wanted to.
The End
The Intruder, posted 1-7-09, rated G/K
Characters: Dick, Bruce, Barbara W., Alfred
Dick has brought an intruder into Alfred's kitchen.
Blue eyes that had not lost any of their piercing shine over the years glared from a withered face at the instrument that sat before them. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but his words were laced in a firm command that, though quiet, left no word for argument. "Get that thing out of my kitchen."
Dick drew his head slightly back in surprise at Alfred's reaction. "I was just trying to help you out, Al," he said, raising his hands in defeat. He'd never seen his old friend, who had become like a second grandfather or perhaps even father to him, look so angry over nothing! "I know you're not feeling up to your old self - "
"I can certainly still cook better without such a horrid instrument than I ever could with it! I've no use for it! Remove it from my kitchen immediately!" Alfred demanded, thwapping his towel down against the table and still glaring holes in the horrible intruder to his peace and privacy.
"Sure. It's outta here right now," Dick promised, grabbing the microwave and heading out of the kitchen.
Alfred turned his back on him with a harrumphing sound, clearly still quite disturbed. Bruce and Barbara exchanged a knowing look, and as Bruce turned to comfort his love, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, Barbara rushed out of the kitchen. She quickly caught up with Dick. She could feel his anger radiating before she ever looked at him. "Dick - "
"I try to help him, and look at how he reacts!" He looked at her with sadness creeping into his eyes. "I know he's not feeling well, Barb, and I know keeping up with us all isn't easy. I swear I was just trying to help - "
"I know," she reassured him, "and he does too, deep down. It's just - " She sighed even as she bit back a laugh. "He'd never admit it and he'd be so mad at me for telling you this, but Uncle Al's hated microwaves ever since he killed the only one he's ever had the first time he tried to use it."
He stopped and stared at her. "What?"
She rolled her eyes lightly, a grin tugging at her face. "He wouldn't let any one tell him how to use it. He swore that he'd been in a kitchen his entire life and didn't need any one telling him how to do anything in it. You know how he is when it comes to cooking. Well, he put tin foil in it first thing, left the kitchen for just a few minutes, and it exploded. By the time he got back in the kitchen, the whole counter was on fire!" She tried not to laugh.
A grin was also tugging at Dick's mouth now, and he had to fight back a chuckle. "What in the world could he have put in there with so much foil to cause such a big fire that fast?"
She could hold back no longer. She burst out laughing as she answered, "He was defrosting a turkey."
Dick paused, struggling to rein in the laughter that bubbled within him. He didn't want to laugh at Alfred; he really didn't. He bit his lip, then, along with his girlfriend, raced down the hallway. Once they were well out of earshot, he slowed his pace and started laughing so hard that he nearly dropped the microwave.
The End
The Only Bat, posted 3-21-13, rated PG-13/T
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Cats
Catwoman's mission again comes between her and the only bat she'll ever love.
"What's that?" Batman demanded.
"What's it look like?" Catwoman returned, her tone and glowing, emerald eyes stating clearly that her tail was already swishing with agitation he caused.
"Mew."
"I'm used to you bringing them to work, Catwoman, but can't you admit that carrying one around with you, when you're jumping and climbing high buildings like this, is a bit much?"
"Don't tell me how to raise my kittens," she growled, unsheathing her claws as he stepped closer.
Batman spread his hands apart and open, gloved palms up, before him. "I don't want to fight you tonight, Catwoman." In truth, he never wanted to fight her. He wanted to make love with and to her. He wanted her to fight beside him. He wanted to save her from the darkness that he knew was within her, a darkness far too much like his own. But he never really wanted to fight her. He only fought her when there were innocents at stake, or she was breaking the law, which always put innocents in danger. And now, the aggravating woman was putting one of her own cherished lives in danger!
"Bruce," Selina sighed, dropping the act of being strictly professional and using their code names, "Binky had to come with me." Her perfectly shaped and voluptuous lips, the lips that haunted his dreams, pulled down into a pout that Bruce found both undeniably attractive and worrisome.
"You don't have to come out every night."
"I can't stay home every night, either, not if I want to save those who you don't fight for," she snarled, "and who really can't fight for themselves against the murderous humans you protect!"
He stifled the sigh rising in his throat. He had to tread carefully here. She was already ready to throw him off of the building! "Is he okay?" he asked, looking again to the little kitten hiding in the backpack on her back.
"As okay as can be expected on a cold night."
"Mew."
Bruce's stealthy eyes darted between woman and cat. Then, he moved with the uncanny speed which was only one of the many attributes the Batman was renowned for and wrapped both in his long, black cape. His body pressed closely against hers. He could feel the kitten shivering because of the way the backpack trembled slightly, but he knew his mistress trembled for an entirely different reason. "Selina," Bruce spoke again, his voice lower and softer. He reached out and touched her face.
She purred and leaned her beautiful face into his tentative touch. He drew his thumb softly across her mask and then traced her lips with his fingers. She turned her head instinctively up. He angled in for the kiss they both wanted, but then she pulled away.
"Argh!" He couldn't stop his frustration from exploding. He wanted the woman he loved so badly he burned! For a change, the law was not standing between them, but yet, something else still was. "What is it now?" he groaned.
"Not in front of Binky," she told him haughtily.
"Selina," Bruce tried desperately to keep his anger from seething through his teeth with every word he spoke, "I have never known a cat more clingy!" He ignored the kitten's disapproving mewls. "And, besides, we've made love before in front of your kids!" Would they ever be their kids?! he wondered desperately.
"This is different," she tried to explain. "Binky isn't ready. I haven't talked to him about . . . about you know . . . " She waved a hand. "He's just a baby, barely off of his bottle!"
He stopped and stared at her. "You bottlefed him?"
"When I saved him, his eyes were not even open yet." She watched her beloved's emotions flicker over his face as she gave him that information with some pride. He still had a long way to come, but at least, he did care for cats. She had taught him to love animals, even if he would never love them as much as he loved the bastard humans who seemed so intent to make every true innocent's life a living Hell. "Yes, I bottlefed him," she continued. "Where do you think I've been every night for the last three weeks?"
He hadn't known. All he had known, for sure, was that she had disappeared again and was far too achingly void from his life, and his arms and bed. "Selina." He reached for her again but stopped, his fury roaring silently within him, as the Batsignal lit the night sky.
Her pout was truly sad this time. "Go," she told him.
"You know I have to."
"I know you think you have to."
"Call me when he gets older?"
"You bet." She meowed, causing his hormones to race even harder within him and drowning out her own baby's mew. "You're the only man, or bat, I'll ever call."
He wanted to tell her that she was the only woman to whom he would ever turn, the only one he'd ever want to share his bed again or his life forever. He wanted to tell her he loved her and could wait until she was ready to give up her wicked ways and come to him in full, but he could hear rapid gunfire exploding a little more than a block away. Her kitten cried with fright, and Selina turned to comfort him. When she turned back, Batman was gone, but she smiled, though sadness still haunted her grin, for she knew he'd be back. They'd always come back to each other.
Catwoman shifted her backpack around to her arms, lifted her kitten, and cuddled him close. She looked up to the Batsignal glowing in the night, and his big eyes followed her gaze. "Mewl?" he asked, batting gently at his mother's cheek with a single, slender paw.
"That was your daddy, baby," Selina told him, hugging him as tightly as she dared do without hurting him. "He'll be back."
"Meow." She laughed as the little kitten again batted at her with a seemingly knowing grin curving his teeny, furry mouth and lighting his green eyes. He already knew truths it had taken them so long to figure out. They were destined for each other, and though their duties might delay their union, they'd always come together again. She just hoped that, one night, that union would be made permanent. She purred and headed home, her bags full of new diamonds and money to buy her babies more food and the cats of the world better and further protection.
The End
Characters: Harley/Ivy
Harley's slowly falling in love with Ivy.
There's a part of her mind that remains, hidden underneath every giggle and bat of her eyelashes above her big, blue eyes. There's a part of the genius that remains of the woman she once was before the Joker started breaking her spirit and mind, the very essence of who she once was. There's a part of her that remains that even Harley forgets is there. She'll hear fragments running through her head, spoken by sounds like an entirely different woman, and in a way, she is.
Or she was. It's all too confusing for Harley when she remembers flashes of her past life and hears words like the things she would have once said, diagnoses she would have once made, quotes by greater minds than hers that was once both familiar to and prized by her. The beliefs that woman took for granted are things Harley can't even understand now. She never thought she'd change. She'd never thought she'd become this, but he has done this to her.
He has crippled her spirit, raped her mind, broken her body multiple times, and yet still, she follows him. She does things every day of her life that the woman she once was never would have thought she'd do, especially not for a mere man. She had worked hard to make her way through a man's world. She knew what monsters men could be, and yet she'd fallen for one of those very monsters, one of the worst ever, indeed, to walk the streets of Gotham.
Sometimes, in her dreams, she remembers what she was like before she met him. She remembers, too, how he made her feel. She had been so full of doubts and heavy thoughts back then and had had so very few reasons to smile. She had lost everybody she'd loved, - and then she'd met him and despite all her barricades, despite all her carefully constructed walls, she had learned to love again. She had fallen in love with a monster. Hers was a true Beauty and the Beast tale but not with the happy ending that so many fairy tales possess.
Her story was a lot more like the original tales the Grimm Brothers told. Her Beast was not good, but he was charming. He was not a Prince in disguise but a devil, a devil who reached inside her, reached pass all her carefully protections, and broke them all down one by one. He broke them all down and reached his claws deep inside of her, withdrawing what he wanted and leaving behind the reasoning, intelligent, brave woman she had once been. She had thought she could cure him, but instead, he all but destroyed her.
Sometimes she remembers, especially in her dreams. Sometimes the woman she was whispers reminders to her consciousness now. She knows when he's going to attack her again. She knows when he's going to take his anger out on her again. She knows when he's looking to break yet another piece of her spirit, of her soul, and of her heart. Sometimes, she doesn't run. Sometimes, she just lets him take her, but other times . . .
Other times, she runs. Other times, she flees into the one place where she still feels safe, to the one person besides the Joker for whom she's actually come to care very deeply. Sometimes, she suspects Pamela knows what he does to her. Sometimes, she thinks the other woman wants to take her away, steal her away from the Joker and flee the country, but she knows what will happen if they ever do that again. He suspected too greatly the last time, but she convinced him, playing the part he had made for her in this cruel and dark world, that she only had eyes for him.
She convinced him she could feel for nobody else. She turned Pam into the fuzz and ran away with him again. But what Ivy doesn't understand is that she was infinitely safer in Arkham than she was with them at the time. Harley can't stand the thought of seeing the Joker break another woman, let alone one as strong, beautiful, passionate, and caring as her Red. If he finds them again, she'll have to do the same thing: She'll lock her away where he can't reach her, lock her away where she'll be safe. Ivy will be furious with her again, but she'll forgive her again with time.
She always forgives her, even when Harley doesn't dare ask for her forgiveness. It's almost as though she can see inside of Harley, as though she understands the troubles she faces when they're not together, as though she knows what that monster does to her when she's with him, and sometimes not even when she's alone with him. He's beaten her in front of his little mob groups. He's even let them grope her, let their nasty, filthy hands go all over her body as though they were going to get to claim the boss' piece, and then shot them dead while they still touching her.
Harley closes her eyes, remembering the nightmares and shivering even though it's a bright, hot Summer day. She feels Pamela's lips brush softly across her pale, scarred forehead, but she doesn't open her eyes until she whispers encouragement for her to do so. "Open your eyes, baby. Open your eyes and look at me. Look into mine."
As she does so, Harley feels her breath and heartbeat still in the single second their eyes lock. Something deep inside of her flutters, and again, she remembers a piece of her prior life. There had been something about the Joker that had stopped all other thoughts, all warnings, all common sense, all the rules she'd made for herself to carefully survive a man's world. There had been something about his eyes that, when locked with hers, had made her shiver with excitement in a way that nothing else ever had.
Pamela's eyes don't make her shiver. They fill her with a warmth instead, a soothing, gentle warmth that seeps into Harley's every pore and spreads throughout her whole body and into her very soul. She feels like the sun, and like her plants, Harley always finds herself careening toward her, wanting more of her warmth, more of her own, private sun.
Fear always traces through her when Joker touches her. Wherever his hands touch, Harley knows too well might be the next spot where he strikes her. She never expects a caress without fearing a blow from him. But where his hands are cruel and powerful, Ivy's hands are gentle, carefully, soothingly spreading over her skin until she's successfully stopped her very last shiver of fear.
"I'll never hurt you, Harls," Ivy whispers, stroking her neck with long, gentle fingers and lifting her head to keep eye contact with her. "Never," she vows.
"I know," Harley whispers in response, and she does. For all the cruelty she's endured with the Joker over the years, Ivy always gives her nothing but love. There are times when she's frustrated with her, times when she makes her angry, but Ivy would rather strike one of her precious babies than ever blow apart on her. Unlike the Joker, who does so little but hurt her, Ivy will never hurt her.
"Kiss me again, Red," Harley whispers for there is power as well as warmth in her secret lover's kiss. There is power and warmth and a tingling every time their lips meet that Harley thinks might be healing. She's watched Ivy heal her plants before, fuse vines together where they have been broken, raise buds from where they have been smashed and breathe new life into them. Harley suspects she's trying to do the same thing with her.
There's a part of Harley even that, if she's honest with herself, knows that's exactly what Ivy wants to do. She's healing her slowly but surely, and these days, Harley's remembering more and more of the woman she used to be, the woman she'd like to be again, the woman she'd like to introduce Red to, the woman who might just be worthy of loving Pamela back. And her memories aren't always relegated to her dreams now.
As Ivy's lips touch hers again and again, always so gentle and yet with growing passion, Harley remembers how she used to forget everything when Joker kissed her, all her worries, all her fears. She'd wanted more of the freedom he'd promised her so badly that she had done the unthinkable, not only breaking him free but eventually killing for him. But the freedom he'd promised her had turned into a prison.
Now, with Ivy's arms around her, her hands softly massaging her skin, her lips breathing new life into her, Harley's beginning to feel free again. She's beginning to feel so free a part of her could sing but not giggle. The laughter is dying away, but her heart is soaring. She used to equate the Joker's kisses to narcotics. He'd made her forget everything, but he'd been the bad kind of drugs, the kind that stripped a woman of every good thought and aspect she had, that took away everything and gave nothing in return.
But if Joker's kisses was the bad kind of narcotics, Pammy's love is the good kind of drug, the kind that, after all this time, she needs so desperately, the kind that really is healing her. Her kiss is a drug, one more powerful even than the Joker's meant to rebuild what he tore apart, but like any good narcotic, soon, Harley's mind is slipping away again. Her memories fade once more. Her thoughts cease, and all that remains is how wonderful Ivy makes her feel. Her brain stops thinking at all as Ivy makes love to her. Only one thought remains: how desperately and completely she would love to stay right here with Ivy in her garden forever more. Maybe, she thinks before she gives herself up entirely, maybe one day, when she's whole, she can.
The End
The Bat's Gift, posted 7-18-06, rated K/G
Characters: Bruce/Selina
A present is left for Batman, but who is it from?
When he had first spotted the Batsymbol lighting up the sky, Bruce Wayne had stifled a frustrated sigh. He had hoped that he would be able to spend the night with his family as Dick, Barbara, and Tim were all visiting for the holidays and Alfred was baking cookies for all, but as every year before since he had first donned the cowl that now concealed his handsome features, he was reminded that criminals did not even take Christmas Eve off. Indeed, they were always hatching a new devious plan, causing more havoc, or simply trying to conquer or destroy the world. Perhaps, one day, he would finally be able to realize that men like him were never granted even a moment of peace.
As Batman swung onto the roof of Gotham City police headquarters, his blue eyes carefully scanned every inch of the roof and what he could see beyond. His lips drew into a thin, emotionless line as he failed to spot the man he had expected to be waiting for him. Even as he wondered where Commissioner Gordon was and whether he was in trouble, his sharp eyes spotted the item that set directly in front of the Batsignal.
The Batman froze as his eyes carefully scanned the item as well as he could in the harsh light of the Batsignal. It was wrapped in bright Christmas wrapping paper, and the top was tied with a red string. Some one had left him a present, and that could undoubtedly only mean one thing. It was a trap.
His head turned slowly as his eyes once more carefully swept every inch that he could see, but he saw nothing moving nor out of place except for the sole object. His eyes returned to the object as he walked slowly toward it, the icy winds of the Winter night rustling his long, black cape behind him. As he drew nearer, he raised a covered arm to block the light from his eyes and face.
Despite his slowed pace, his long legs still drew him quickly to the item. Kneeling before it, the Bat slightly pressed his ear to the package and held his breath as he listened intently. No sound met his ear, and he drew back. Reaching into a compartment on his Batbelt, he pulled out a tiny tool that he opened to reveal a considerably larger tool. Keeping one eye constantly on the lookout and his other staring down at the report printed out in the small screen, he ran the tool over every inch of the package.
When not even that tool could report anything unusual, a slight frown pulled at his lips for just a second before his face returned to his normal stoic, emotionless mask. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he picked up the package and raised it off of the cold cement. When nothing happened, he continued to hold it as he turned and walked out of the light. His gloved hands felt carefully of the package. It seemed to be a statue of some sort, but it was nothing he immediately recognized.
His fingers reached up to slowly untie the ribbon. Just as slowly, he pulled aside the wrapping paper, and despite himself, a startled gasp escaped his mouth as the silvery light of the moon illuminated the Bat and the familiar statue he held in his hands. His eyes widened in shock as they examined the statue.
The Dark Knight stood proudly in the firm grasp of the Batman's hand. Every detail was etched to complete perfection, and Bruce could not help but marvel at what sculptor could have possibly captured him to such a remarkable point. His thumb brushed over a small rise in front of the statuesque Batman's ankle, bringing his eyes to that area of the statue. His shock and surprise only grew as he stared down at the black cat wrapped tightly around the smaller Batman's boot, and a mixture of emotions swelled in his heart.
It was no villain that had brought him out tonight. This had not been a trap, after all. It was love that had made him leave his warm abode - the love of a certain Cat whose beauty filled his brain each time he closed his eyes and whose gorgeous, emerald eyes never left his mind. His heart rose into his throat, forming a lump that felt to be the size of a baseball bat, as he continued to stare down at the statue. Catwoman had left this for him, and though there was no written message, he still perfectly understood what words could never tell.
She missed him just as terribly as he missed her. She still wanted him. She still loved him despite everything they had done to each other. Just as the statue was not complete without the cat or the Bat, they were two parts of one whole, each eternally empty without the other.
Despite all that that one statue said, he had to wonder. Did he dare to think that she might have been able to forgive him for locking her up so many countless times? Did he dare hope that there might yet prove to be a way for them to be together again? Although he had long ago been forced to accept that they would never agree on laws or those who were in charge of enforcing them, he still cared more deeply for her than any one else he had ever encountered in his entire life. Rather he was Bruce or Batman or she was Selina or Catwoman, he still loved her with a burning love so intense that he had once feared, and still did at times like now, might consume him, with a love that could never be stopped no matter how he tried or what she did, with a love that would last for the rest of time and into whatever lay beyond.
As Bruce struggled desperately to maintain his composure as Batman, snowflakes began to fall gently but swiftly. In the shadows, unseen emerald eyes filled with tears as she watched him turn and walk away. Her heart thundered in her chest, begging her to go to him, as she watched his Batcable shoot out and catch securely. Just as it always did whenever he left, her heart broke a little more as he swung away into the dark night. As he moved swiftly over rooftop after rooftop, clutching his gift securely to his heart, he carried her heart with him just as always. As Catwoman turned in one direction and Batman continued on his way home, a single tear fell from each brave soul's eye. Perhaps they would be granted a miracle and be able to be together one night, but tonight was not that night.
The End
The Cat Gets The Bat, posted 2-27-12, rated T/PG-13
Characters: Bruce/Selina
The Cat finally gets the Bat.
Cats are known for many traits. Their beauty, pride, and elegance is noted by any one who looks upon them with open eyes and heart for even a few scant seconds. As many of them who are as fine walking the city streets alone are also good with families, and they can truly be a girl's best friend, far better than any diamond or man. One of their aspects of character has been spoken about for centuries; used in plays, books, and movies; and yet still, only those who really become close to them know how true those old sayings of a cat's patience are.
A cat's patience knows no end. Oh, she'll complain to any one who'll listen to her meows and show her impatience in the whippings of her tail or the strikes of her claws. Yet she'll still preserve her patience once she knows what she wants and where to get it. She'll find the hole of her prey and wait for hours on end or, on occasion, even days for the mouse to squeak out of hiding just so that she can grasp it in her claws and sink her teeth into its warm and wriggling flesh.
Those games of cat and mouse have been going for ages, longer than man has been writing tales even, but none has ever been like the one I am about to win within just the next few seconds. Instead of hours or days, I've waited for years to win this battle. I've had my rodent of choice in my teeth before, under my claws, under my body, and in my bed, but still, every time I've thought I've had him at last, he's found a way to buck me off and run off into the night.
Part of me keeps waiting for it to happen again this time. Every time some one coughs, whispers, or even sneezes around us right now, I'm expecting the Batsignal to light up the sky or some other disaster to happen and have the one I've chosen sweeping off and away from me again. I clutch his arm. We both know my claws are digging slightly into his flesh, but only I truly know the reason why. He thinks I'm just nervous, perhaps suspects I'm the one having second thoughts, but that's not the case. I'm not letting him get away from me this time.
It's happened too many times before, on more occasions and in more ways than I care to recall. He's used every excuse in the book to escape my clutches, but not this time. I'm not getting pushed aside today for any reason. If he goes somewhere, I'll follow him, and then I'll drag him back, by tooth or claw if necessary, to this spot where, for now, we belong. He's mine, and soon, the entire world will know it.
I feel like I have more eyes on me right now than ever before. It's probably really not the case. I've bound to have been gawked at by more people before several of the times he's dragged me off to Arkham. It's probably just the fact of who these people are that has my skin itching and my back riled. All of his sidekicks and his trusted butler, too, are just mere footsteps away. Plus, this place is packed with every hero and every newspaper columnist ever to walk or fly through Gotham.
He thinks I've got none of my own here, no backup to call upon, but he's wrong. He doesn't need to know he's wrong, I think, as the man before us begins to speak and my ruby red lips twist up into a wry grin. My family is here, hiding amongst his, lurking beneath the benches, sticking their tiny, furry faces out amongst the legs of his unsuspecting Gothamites. They're peeking through the windows and the doors, too, which are open because I insisted they be left wide open for the Spring breeze which is even now tugging at my long, white dress.
As I stand there, holding to his arm, gripping his flesh in my claws, I can't help but to think back over the years. I've had my eye on him for a long time, and we have been through all sorts of crazy adventures together, him chasing me as well as myself running after him. I've tasted the wonders of his flesh and listened to his heart pounding many nights and some days, as well. We've danced together throughout both disaster and ball rooms. We've saved the world and rescued innocent lives, and he's thrown me into jail so many times that we've both lost count.
I didn't think the great Bat detective would ever lose track of anything, but he has admitted to me that he can no longer recall the exact amount of times he's thrown me behind bars. I think it's really because he doesn't want to remember. He knows I've a good heart and soul, though we'll never agree on how best to save the innocents who deserve rescuing, and he'll never agree that my family deserves rescuing far ahead of most of his supposedly innocent humans. The law has stood between us for far too long, but it's never going to separate us again. I've finally come to his side, and he doesn't need to know that I still believe in my brand of justice. I'll pull him over to my way of thinking eventually, once I have him purrmanently in my claws where he belongs.
I gaze into his beautiful, baby blue eyes as he answers the man standing before us with a heavy, black book in his hands, and my heart skips a beat. I know he can hear my heart pounding; I hear his, too, beating in the same, powerful, and lovely rhythm as my own. We've beat together for years now, breathed together, too, and it's much more than just wanting him in my claws that's made me hold to the patience that the Saints are purported to have possessed. Any other woman, and any cat, too, would have given up after all these years, but not I. I tried to a few times, but every time I walked away from him, every time I faked my death to get him to stay out of my life, I found I could not stay away from him.
My claws finally release his flesh. My hands travel down his muscular arms and grasp his hands. Everything in the room is quiet except for my babies. I can hear them purring in their hiding places amongst the humans, and I realize that I, too, am purring. I'm purring, and there are tears in my green eyes. They are, however, for one of the extremely rare times in my history, tears of happiness. I've only cried, maybe, three times in my entire life from joy, and every time, he has been the reason those tears have sprung.
He cups my face in his hands. His touch has always been so warm, so comforting, and reassuring. I want more of it now as I always have before. I step closer to him, smiling through my tears, and my heart soars even higher as I notice the tears reflecting back to me in his own blue orbs. He'll never admit he's fighting tears, but he doesn't have to tell me for me to know. I know this man, both sides of him, and I have loved him almost ever since I first met him.
At that time, I thought he was the enemy, and he believed me to be his most trying foe. We played that game for years, trying to force ourselves to be the other's opponent, when in truth, though what we believed was completely different at the time, we both wanted the same thing. We have loved each other, I realize now, since that first moment our lips touched while we were battling. We've both yearned for this moment ever since, but so much has stood in our way - the law; our crazy, twisted lives; our different beliefs; the world. No more! I want to mew, and I see that declaration reflected in his misting eyes. We'll never let anything else stand between us again!
We have been meant to be together all this time, destined for one another since the moment we were born and brought into this reality whose world, though it can be so harsh at times and almost always was until we found each other, actually looks like a beautiful place when I gaze at it from his loving arms without handcuffs or ropes holding me back. It is beautiful, I realize. It's been made beautiful through the eyes of love, and it is ours for the taking!
We'll take it together from this day forward! We'll stop the thieves and killers. We'll free the enslaved and save the innocents. I'll help him to see that cats need our help worse than the humans, and when the time comes, I'll show him why my brand of vengeance is the right way for it doesn't let the enemy come back to kill some one else. I'll help him see the truth and be the rock he'll need in that time, holding him and supporting him through whatever else may come.
I used to be a thief myself, but those days are over. Although I'll still seek vengeance and right the wrongs cast upon my babies, I'll no longer steal anything again. I made him that promise a month ago when he asked me to come here to this place with him and say the words I am about to speak before the world. When I made that vow, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to keep to it, but now I know I will. I won't steal another item ever again for as long as I live. I've no further need of jewels, diamonds, necklaces, or any other kind of riches for I've the most wonderful treasure for which I could ever seek right here in my arms, the man who loves me waiting for me to love him back which, of course, I always have and forever will.
The man in black is speaking to me now. For a change, the man in dark clothing isn't a hero or a villain. He's a simple civilian, a friend of Bruce's. He's the man who married his parents, and now he's the man who shall marry us. "And do you, Selina Kyle, take this man, Bruce Wayne, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death do you part?"
"I do," I purr, smiling from ear to ear like the cat who just ate the canary in front of an entire church full of people. I have no appetite for bird nor mice. I want bat. I always have, and from this day forward, I shall never go hungry again! I shall have what I want and give to my beloved husband, and my darling babies, still all that they want! "And even after," I add, still purring, murmuring the words against Bruce's lips for he's already pulling me close, preparing to seal the most important deal of both of our lives.
"If there is any one who has a reason that this man and this woman should not live in holy matrimony from this day forward, let them come forward now or forever hold their peace." I hear a few of my babies hissing softly, as well as a few of my darling Bruce's friends murmuring. Some of them still wonder how he ever fell in love with me, but I know how. He saw my inner soul and fell in love with me for who I am, just as I saw beneath his valor and do gooderness to the real man within who, although that same courage and determination to do right is still a large portion of that man, is so much more wonderful than I ever would have guessed when I first wrapped my whip around his throat. The humans hush. They wouldn't dare speak aloud their complaints for they know that we both would rip into them - if there was even anything left to rip, after my babies were done.
The preacher smiles and shuts his book. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Happy applause and joyous meows fill the church. There's a few screams, too, as my Brucie's beloved Gothamites finally see my babies as they streak out from underneath the pews to come milling around our legs.
For the first time in our life together, Bruce doesn't immediately slip into his Batman persona to pay full attention to the screams. The people might as well not even be screaming right now for he certainly doesn't appear to hear them. He's too busy kissing me, and he has my full attention, as well, as I kiss him back, purring still deep in my throat, and curl my body around his muscular frame. We kiss long and deep as some of his friends rush out of the church and others try to regain the peace, but none of their screams or words penetrate our moment of bliss.
He pulls me up into his arms, and I go freely and happily. Still, he doesn't cease kissing me even as he sweeps me up. My fingers curl into the silken locks of his jet black hair, and I deepen our kiss as he starts running with me. He isn't going to let any one disturb our moment or our special day. He doesn't condemn me for having my cats come along. He understands at long last that they are as much my family as he is.
From a far distance, I hear his eldest sidekick calling to his butler to get the limousine. The screams have subsided; laughter reigns instead. Tires screech outside. Rice and catnip is being flung; it covers our skin, hair, and clothes. Still, Bruce doesn't look up. He keeps kissing me, and I return his kiss in full, my hands softly and lovingly caressing his handsome face and hair as we dash out of the church and into his limousine. People and cats alike are both running behind us.
Even now, I am aware of my babies and their presence. I know when two other doors are opened on the limousine, and they clamber inside just before we take off. They're safe, and their momma is the happiest I've ever been. I lean into my beloved husband, pushing him back in his leather seat, and my tongue dips into his mouth as I hear the window between butler and millionaire snap shut. No one sees us now, but it wouldn't matter if the whole world was still watching. I love my husband, both sides of him, the millionaire who was once, but never shall be again, a playboy and the dashing, heroic, and often vastly aggravating Batman, and as we ride away as Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Wayne, I show him how much I love him, purring deeply and kissing him like there is no tomorrow.
Yet now, for the first time in my life, I know there will always be a tomorrow. Our futures stretch a long, long way ahead of us, shining and sparkling with the brightness of our love that fills them and curling together, as do our bodies and our hearts, as we have been meant to do forever. "I love you, Bruce!" I purr in between kisses. "I love you, Batman!"
"I love you, Selina, Catwoman!" His hands are everywhere at once on my body and tangled in my hair, as are mine on his body. Our mouths crash together again, kissing again and again and pouring more passion and love into each kiss for our love does grow with every time we touch. As we kiss, celebrating the union of our hearts and souls from which we shall never try to run again, our hearts soar out of the limo, beyond the clouds, into the great beyond that's never looked brighter than it does right now as I curl into my husband's lap and we love each other with all that we are forever more.
The End
The Changing Tides (of the Female Gender), posted 4-15-13, rated K+/PG
Characters: Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Barbara
Alfred's advice to young Bruce still holds true today.
Robin's exasperated voice crackled through the Batcom. "I don't even know what I said!"
"It may not even be what you said," Batman returned evenly, "but what you didn't say."
"Huh?"
"Look, Robin, Batgirl's a loyal confidante and a fighter. There's nobody else I'd prefer at my back besides you two. But she's still a woman."
"Of course she's a woman! I wouldn't have half the trouble I have with her if she wasn't!"
Batman chuckled. "If she wasn't the woman she is, you also wouldn't have that trouble, because you wouldn't be dating her. All jests aside, though, Robin, Alfred once told me something about women the first time I had trouble with a girl."
"You had girl trouble?"
"We all do."
"So what did Al tell you?"
"He told me women's moods change as often as the changing tides, but unlike the tide, they're completely unpredictable. You never know what you're getting when. Poison Ivy is one of our deadliest enemies but has a benevolent side."
"If you're a plant," grumbled Robin.
"I've known Harley Quinn to be serious."
"Serious? Harley?!"
"Watch her the next time she gets away and we imprison Joker."
"Point taken. But, Bats, how am I supposed to apologize if I don't even know what I did?!"
"It might be what you didn't do." He was about to say more when he noted movement on the building beneath him and smiled. "Batman out."
"But - "
Batman flipped his Batcom off and swung down onto the rooftop. The moon was full. He knew Selina's catnip was beginning to grow, and Spring meant mating season. He'd been enjoying their trysts every night lately but was caught off guard when she suddenly sprang at him. He grunted as the claws in her boots scratched his ribs. The motion threw him off course, and he landed, hard, on the building.
"Serves you right," Catwoman growled. The lithe, black cat draped around her neck swished its tail for her; both female's emerald eyes glowered down at him. "Sneaking up on a woman."
"I thought we were going to meet - " Batman tried to get to his feet, but she sprang again, grabbing his cowl in both hands and jamming her knee into his face. He shoved her off and bounded to his feet while she was recovering. "Selina, I thought we were beyond this!"
"You thought wrong!" she hissed and snarled when she approached.
His keen eyes surveyed her; she hadn't stolen anything. There was no reason for him to fight her. "I don't want to fight you."
"Then don't follow." She swung off into the night, still snarling and left him to scratch his head in confusion. It wasn't her time of the month. He hadn't caught Bullock's interview where he'd stated that the Commissioner and the Batman were working together to bring her in. Nor did he know that she had a sick kitty at home or a new enemy in town. "Women," he muttered, recalling again Alfred's advice and wishing the waters of life could stay calm for once.
The End
The Fallen Dark Knight, posted 7-13-06, rated PG/K+
Characters: Bruce/Selina
A routine chase between Batman and Catwoman leads to something unexpected...
Police sirens blazed below, their blue lights lighting the dark streets of the city. "Give it up, Catwoman!" Batman called again, his voice firm though with just the tiniest notch of what she had come to know was his hidden concern for her.
She pulled herself to another rooftop and then shot off her grappling hook again as she returned the same words she had so many times before: "Neverrrr, Batman!"
Just as he arrived on the rooftop, she left again, sailing through the air and passing several more buildings. "You can't escape this time, Catwoman!" he called again as he continued to follow her in swift pursuit.
She licked her lips as she called seductively back to him, "You say that every time, Bats, and every time you're wrong!"
"Not every time!" he argued.
"Every time that matters!" she responded without hesitation as she landed again and shot off her grappling hook once more. She knew she should find a way to lose him, but she was enjoying their game too much that night to let the fun end so soon. He landed behind her, and she turned to smile beguilingly at him.
His heart skipped a beat as she smiled at him, and he drew closer to the beauty that the full moon cloaked in its silvery light before him, as if tempting him to reach out and try to grasp her with his gloved fingers only to find her gone again before he could. Slowly, he reached out a hand as he commanded, "Give me the money, Catwoman."
"Neverrrr," she protested in a seductive purr that threatened to melt him on the spot. Holding her loot even closer to her bosom, she backed up, and terror filled his face as she came too close to the ledge.
"Don't!" Batman cried out even as Catwoman calmly stepped off of the building. He ran to the side and looked down only to find that she had already hooked her grappling cable and was flying away again. He started to follow her but froze in terror, his blue eyes shooting wide behind his cowl, as he saw her cable begin to break. Swiftly, the Dark Knight threw out his own Bathook and began to drop.
Catwoman's cable broke, and she began to plummet toward the pavement far below long before Batman even began to near her again. Her eyes met his as she fell. She wanted to cry out but could not find her voice. His terror grew when he witnessed the fear in her emerald eyes, and he dropped faster than he ever had before. He was not coming fast enough, she thought frantically as she saw her forbidden love trying valiantly to reach her, and she clawed madly at the air, desperately trying to slow her descent. The bags of money slipped from her, and a panicked mew broke from her lips as she felt the heat of the pavement rushing up at her. She tried to memorize his sexy eyes and handsome face before finally shutting her eyes as she braced herself for the end.
Mere seconds before it would have been too late, strong arms caught her. Her arms went instinctively around his neck as he swung them into a dark, abandoned alley. Releasing his Batcable, Batman's free hand rose to softly stroke her cheek. Her eyes opened, and she smiled as she looked up into his scared face and worried eyes. There was no need for words between the two for they read each other perfectly without either making a single sound.
His mouth lowered towards hers, and hers welcomed his. Their tongues slipped into each other's mouths, sparking a passionate duel. They clung to each other in mad passion, their heated bodies pressing tightly together despite their leather costumes. Slowly and reluctantly, when their lungs finally forced them to break apart for burning need of oxygen, they continued to stare lovingly into each others' eyes. It was Catwoman who eventually broke the silence. "So I suppose you're going to try to take me in now?" she asked him softly, her eyes searching his.
"Not tonight," was his throaty reply. He knew he should, but he found that he could not even as he set her on her feet. It took every last inch of his will to walk away from her, but even then he was forced to finally accept that she was the only criminal who he would never again be able to put back behind bars. Though she had been the one who had been falling, it was he who had truly fallen. He knew that he would never be able to climb back up again out of the prison others called love, but what scared the Batman was that he also knew, in his heart of hearts, that he never wanted to.
The End
The Intruder, posted 1-7-09, rated G/K
Characters: Dick, Bruce, Barbara W., Alfred
Dick has brought an intruder into Alfred's kitchen.
Blue eyes that had not lost any of their piercing shine over the years glared from a withered face at the instrument that sat before them. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but his words were laced in a firm command that, though quiet, left no word for argument. "Get that thing out of my kitchen."
Dick drew his head slightly back in surprise at Alfred's reaction. "I was just trying to help you out, Al," he said, raising his hands in defeat. He'd never seen his old friend, who had become like a second grandfather or perhaps even father to him, look so angry over nothing! "I know you're not feeling up to your old self - "
"I can certainly still cook better without such a horrid instrument than I ever could with it! I've no use for it! Remove it from my kitchen immediately!" Alfred demanded, thwapping his towel down against the table and still glaring holes in the horrible intruder to his peace and privacy.
"Sure. It's outta here right now," Dick promised, grabbing the microwave and heading out of the kitchen.
Alfred turned his back on him with a harrumphing sound, clearly still quite disturbed. Bruce and Barbara exchanged a knowing look, and as Bruce turned to comfort his love, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, Barbara rushed out of the kitchen. She quickly caught up with Dick. She could feel his anger radiating before she ever looked at him. "Dick - "
"I try to help him, and look at how he reacts!" He looked at her with sadness creeping into his eyes. "I know he's not feeling well, Barb, and I know keeping up with us all isn't easy. I swear I was just trying to help - "
"I know," she reassured him, "and he does too, deep down. It's just - " She sighed even as she bit back a laugh. "He'd never admit it and he'd be so mad at me for telling you this, but Uncle Al's hated microwaves ever since he killed the only one he's ever had the first time he tried to use it."
He stopped and stared at her. "What?"
She rolled her eyes lightly, a grin tugging at her face. "He wouldn't let any one tell him how to use it. He swore that he'd been in a kitchen his entire life and didn't need any one telling him how to do anything in it. You know how he is when it comes to cooking. Well, he put tin foil in it first thing, left the kitchen for just a few minutes, and it exploded. By the time he got back in the kitchen, the whole counter was on fire!" She tried not to laugh.
A grin was also tugging at Dick's mouth now, and he had to fight back a chuckle. "What in the world could he have put in there with so much foil to cause such a big fire that fast?"
She could hold back no longer. She burst out laughing as she answered, "He was defrosting a turkey."
Dick paused, struggling to rein in the laughter that bubbled within him. He didn't want to laugh at Alfred; he really didn't. He bit his lip, then, along with his girlfriend, raced down the hallway. Once they were well out of earshot, he slowed his pace and started laughing so hard that he nearly dropped the microwave.
The End
The Only Bat, posted 3-21-13, rated PG-13/T
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Cats
Catwoman's mission again comes between her and the only bat she'll ever love.
"What's that?" Batman demanded.
"What's it look like?" Catwoman returned, her tone and glowing, emerald eyes stating clearly that her tail was already swishing with agitation he caused.
"Mew."
"I'm used to you bringing them to work, Catwoman, but can't you admit that carrying one around with you, when you're jumping and climbing high buildings like this, is a bit much?"
"Don't tell me how to raise my kittens," she growled, unsheathing her claws as he stepped closer.
Batman spread his hands apart and open, gloved palms up, before him. "I don't want to fight you tonight, Catwoman." In truth, he never wanted to fight her. He wanted to make love with and to her. He wanted her to fight beside him. He wanted to save her from the darkness that he knew was within her, a darkness far too much like his own. But he never really wanted to fight her. He only fought her when there were innocents at stake, or she was breaking the law, which always put innocents in danger. And now, the aggravating woman was putting one of her own cherished lives in danger!
"Bruce," Selina sighed, dropping the act of being strictly professional and using their code names, "Binky had to come with me." Her perfectly shaped and voluptuous lips, the lips that haunted his dreams, pulled down into a pout that Bruce found both undeniably attractive and worrisome.
"You don't have to come out every night."
"I can't stay home every night, either, not if I want to save those who you don't fight for," she snarled, "and who really can't fight for themselves against the murderous humans you protect!"
He stifled the sigh rising in his throat. He had to tread carefully here. She was already ready to throw him off of the building! "Is he okay?" he asked, looking again to the little kitten hiding in the backpack on her back.
"As okay as can be expected on a cold night."
"Mew."
Bruce's stealthy eyes darted between woman and cat. Then, he moved with the uncanny speed which was only one of the many attributes the Batman was renowned for and wrapped both in his long, black cape. His body pressed closely against hers. He could feel the kitten shivering because of the way the backpack trembled slightly, but he knew his mistress trembled for an entirely different reason. "Selina," Bruce spoke again, his voice lower and softer. He reached out and touched her face.
She purred and leaned her beautiful face into his tentative touch. He drew his thumb softly across her mask and then traced her lips with his fingers. She turned her head instinctively up. He angled in for the kiss they both wanted, but then she pulled away.
"Argh!" He couldn't stop his frustration from exploding. He wanted the woman he loved so badly he burned! For a change, the law was not standing between them, but yet, something else still was. "What is it now?" he groaned.
"Not in front of Binky," she told him haughtily.
"Selina," Bruce tried desperately to keep his anger from seething through his teeth with every word he spoke, "I have never known a cat more clingy!" He ignored the kitten's disapproving mewls. "And, besides, we've made love before in front of your kids!" Would they ever be their kids?! he wondered desperately.
"This is different," she tried to explain. "Binky isn't ready. I haven't talked to him about . . . about you know . . . " She waved a hand. "He's just a baby, barely off of his bottle!"
He stopped and stared at her. "You bottlefed him?"
"When I saved him, his eyes were not even open yet." She watched her beloved's emotions flicker over his face as she gave him that information with some pride. He still had a long way to come, but at least, he did care for cats. She had taught him to love animals, even if he would never love them as much as he loved the bastard humans who seemed so intent to make every true innocent's life a living Hell. "Yes, I bottlefed him," she continued. "Where do you think I've been every night for the last three weeks?"
He hadn't known. All he had known, for sure, was that she had disappeared again and was far too achingly void from his life, and his arms and bed. "Selina." He reached for her again but stopped, his fury roaring silently within him, as the Batsignal lit the night sky.
Her pout was truly sad this time. "Go," she told him.
"You know I have to."
"I know you think you have to."
"Call me when he gets older?"
"You bet." She meowed, causing his hormones to race even harder within him and drowning out her own baby's mew. "You're the only man, or bat, I'll ever call."
He wanted to tell her that she was the only woman to whom he would ever turn, the only one he'd ever want to share his bed again or his life forever. He wanted to tell her he loved her and could wait until she was ready to give up her wicked ways and come to him in full, but he could hear rapid gunfire exploding a little more than a block away. Her kitten cried with fright, and Selina turned to comfort him. When she turned back, Batman was gone, but she smiled, though sadness still haunted her grin, for she knew he'd be back. They'd always come back to each other.
Catwoman shifted her backpack around to her arms, lifted her kitten, and cuddled him close. She looked up to the Batsignal glowing in the night, and his big eyes followed her gaze. "Mewl?" he asked, batting gently at his mother's cheek with a single, slender paw.
"That was your daddy, baby," Selina told him, hugging him as tightly as she dared do without hurting him. "He'll be back."
"Meow." She laughed as the little kitten again batted at her with a seemingly knowing grin curving his teeny, furry mouth and lighting his green eyes. He already knew truths it had taken them so long to figure out. They were destined for each other, and though their duties might delay their union, they'd always come together again. She just hoped that, one night, that union would be made permanent. She purred and headed home, her bags full of new diamonds and money to buy her babies more food and the cats of the world better and further protection.
The End
