Old Batman Stories, Part 9
Sep. 21st, 2022 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apachefirecatTheir Heart's Masters, posted 8-5-10, rated R/M
Characters: Bruce/Alfred, Dick
Bruce and Alfred send Dick away so they can celebrate Bruce's birthday in style.
As soon as the Batmobile slid to a halt inside the safe confines of the Batcave, the teenaged Boy Wonder jumped out of the supervehicle. "Alfred! Hey, Alfred!" Robin called, grinning from ear to ear. "You'll never guess what I heard on the radio tonight!"
The cave was silent save for the screeching of the resident bats as they flew away from the noisy youth. "He's not here." Robin turned, with a pout, to Batman.
Batman grasped the boy's shoulder. "It's okay," he told him knowingly. "I told him to go on to bed, because we didn't know how late we'd be out."
Robin gave him a curious look. "And he obeyed you?"
Batman shrugged. "It is my birthday," he reminded him. "Go on up to your room and start packing. You can tell him in the morning before you leave."
*Not,* Bruce silently amended with a sly smile that he hid perfectly behind his emotionless face, *that he doesn't already know.* It had been a stroke of genius for Alfred to call the radio and get the deejay to make the announcement without mentioning his name. Robin was guaranteed to be gone for the full week, and while the Boy Wonder was gone, the men would play!
"Are you sure you won't need me?"
Batman allowed a knowing smile to curve his lips. "Absolutely. It's been relatively quiet lately for Gotham."
"Gotham's never quiet."
"That's why I said 'for Gotham'." He gave his friend's brightly-clothed shoulder a reassuring pat. "I'll be fine, Robin, but if I need you, I'll call."
"You be sure to do that."
"I will."
"You're the only thing that could drag me away from hot chicks on a nude beach." Robin grinned at his hero, then bounded up the long, curving staircase. "I still can't believe there's a National Nude Recreational Week!" he called over his shoulder.
He turned at the top of the steps, and Batman quickly hid his grin. Robin winked down at him. "Happy Birthday, Bruce!" Then he was gone.
Batman waited impatiently to make sure his sidekick had enough time to get all the way to his bedroom. While he hesitated, he peeled off his cowl and slowly removed his tight, leather costume, officially freeing the man beneath the Bat. Once he was satisfied Robin wouldn't be returning any time soon, Bruce turned around with a brilliant smile alighting his face. "You can come out now, love!"
He spotted his beloved partner's hiding spot a split moment before he shot out of the enormous cake he had wheeled into the shadows. Bruce's mouth fell open in surprise, and he reached a hand behind him and grasped his chair for support for his suddenly weakened body.
"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!" Alfred sang as he seductively danced his way closer to his sweetheart.
His moves were superbly graceful, and Bruce saw only his sensuality, gracefulness, and handsomeness as Alfred danced to him. His sword had began to raise its eager flag the moment Alfred had leapt out of his huge cake, and he was painfully hard by the time he finally reached him. He started to kneel before him as he sang, "Happy Birthday, my sweet love, Master Bruce!"
"What did I tell you?" Bruce demanded with a lusty growl as he wrapped his muscular arms gently around Alfred's torso and pulled him back to his feet and to his own lips.
Bruce's heated mouth covered Alfred's with such scorching passion that it brought immediate moans to them both. Their lips silenced their moans, but then they escaped as their mouths opened and their tongues dove deeper into each other's sweet nectars. Their hands lovingly caressed each spot of one another's bared bodies that they could reach as their tongues strove deeper, harder, and faster into their mouths. Their lovers' moans were pure, beautiful music to their ears as they caressed and kissed one another with all the passion and love they'd only ever feel for each other.
"Don't . . . call . . . me . . . Master," Bruce moaned against Alfred's lips that burned him hotter than any sun ever had or would.
Alfred abandoned his lover's delicious mouth and dropped with his surprising swiftness to his knees. "You will always be my Master, my darling Brucie," he told him, his voice heavily husky with his intense need and desire for his soul mate. As he spoke, his hands swept ever lower over Bruce's strong body, caressing his sculptured muscles, torso, and back before finally scooping his fine, bare buttocks and pulling him even closer to him.
"You alone, my dearest and only love, are the Master of my heart, body, and soul, but I choose you to be my Master now, in the past, forever, and beyond! I love you, and it is my rightful choice, - and moreover, by far, my pleasure - to serve beneath you." His hands switched to his front and slid over his long, sleek manhood before moving to massage his testes.
"Alfred . . . " Bruce moaned, his hands burying in his lover's beautiful, snowy white hair.
"Happy Birthday, my beloved Master!"
Bruce gasped as Alfred wrapped his hot lips around his steed. He was instantaneously lost to the sultry power of his love. As Alfred sucked him, Bruce cried out with his pleasure. "I love you!" he managed to exclaim as his fireworks shot into Alfred's mouth.
Alfred drank every drop he gave him and then licked his lips before gazing with adoring love shining in his eyes up at him and answering, "And I love you, my sweet Master Bruce, so please allow me the pleasure of continuing to please you!" He went down harder on his love's roaring steed and took his whole staff within his hot and sensual mouth. Bruce's moans played like the finest of violins on Alfred's ears as he continued to cum for the rest of the night. They joyously celebrated his birthday and every day of their lives together beneath the touch of their hearts' Masters.
The End
To Mend Broken Hearts, posted 3-19-17, rated K+/PG
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Alfred
If only it was as easy to mend broken hearts.
He remembers when mysterious holes first started showing up in Master Bruce's clothes. He was concerned for his young charge, but at the time, he could never have imagined the true reason behind the rips and treads that he mended dutifully every morning. He imagined all sorts of scenarios, but everything he thought of was very far indeed from the truth. Eventually, of course, he learned the truth behind the tears, but it did nothing to ease his mind. It only worried him a thousand times more.
Bruce tells him not to worry every night when he's around and he sets out into the city in the Batmobile. He is trained in a plethora of fighting styles, and there is no man, hero or villain, who is more adept at what he does. Still, Alfred can not help but to worry. What kind of a friend, of a guardian even, would he be if he didn't worry when he knows the life of his charge - and though he may no longer be young, he will always be Alfred's charge - is in jeopardy every moment of every night and sometimes well into the daylight?
Every night, he busies himself mending holes, washing dishes and even walls, cleaning the manor from top to bottom, and utilizing the Batcomputer however he can to help his charge until he finally passes out. He's almost always fast asleep these nights by the time Bruce slips back into the manor, but every morning, as soon as he wakes, he slips into Bruce's room and checks just to make certain he's present and sleeping. Then he always goes for his uniform.
The old costume has changed in many ways over the years his charge has been fighting crime. It started out being mere cloth, and now it's Kevlar and leather and lined with one of the strongest materials known to man. It's no small feat for a villain to put a hole in Batman's uniform now, but it still happens. Almost every night, it still happens.
Alfred can tell a great deal about his charge's previous night by the way his costume looks in the bright light of the morning sun. He can tell rather he was shot at or stabbed and how deep any wounds he may otherwise hide from him are. Most of the time, he can even tell which ruthless villain left their mark on the man who could not be more his son if Alfred had given birth to him himself.
This morning is no exception. The butler frowns deeply as he sticks two fingers through a slash in Batman's uniform. There's no doubt at all in his mind who Bruce was with last night. The very next thought that crosses his mind is wondering if he let her go, as he sometimes does, or if he threw Selina into Arkham, where the conniving woman belongs. He makes a mental note to check the morning paper and see if the headlines can tell him anything of use before he wakes Bruce for his breakfast.
It's rare that Batman lets any criminal walk away, but Selina has walked the most out of all the ones they've known. Bruce will not voice his feelings for her, but all who know him well know the very reason why the Catwoman remains on the loose. God help them, but the man loves her! Which is exactly the reason why Alfred considers her to be one of his most dangerous enemies. She's certainly a conniving, little tart, using his charge's feelings to keep her own hide safe in the dangerous games she plays.
He'd like nothing more than to see her locked up in Arkham and stay there for once, but goodness knows everybody who goes to Arkham, eventually manages to get out. It seems to be one of the unspoken rules of the universe that his dear charge will have to chase after criminal he locks away again and again as long as he insists on protecting a city who doesn't deserve protection, let alone protection by him.
Alfred's fingers wriggle up at him, and the old man sighs, his mustache quivering with his worry. That Catwoman keeps her claws hooked into his boy so well that Alfred fears she will be the reason why Bruce doesn't come home one of these nights. She's kept him from coming home before, and indeed so have other things he faces as a masked vigilante, but he's always come home to him eventually. Alfred's greatest fear is that there will come a time when he doesn't come home - ever, because he's not able to.
Tears moisten the butler's eyes. His mustache twitches again. He sinks back against the washing machine and starts the dutiful task of mending his charge's uniform yet again, but with every stitch, he thinks about the claws that scratched his child and left these marks behind. The body heals, but he knows better than most that the heart never truly does. The marks Selina left on Bruce's body last night will eventually fade and heal until there's nothing left behind but perhaps the faintest mark, a hint on his skin of what had been and might be again, but the marks she left on his heart are unreachable by any one else.
It's not the first time Alfred thinks about donning the costume himself and going after the wily bitch. If he was to catch her, he'd lock her away in a place where she'd never be found or heard from again. He'd keep his master, and charge, safe. He sighs again, knowing that that still wouldn't heal Bruce's heart. There's nothing he can do, he knows with a sinking feeling in his own heart, to heal the wounds Selina Kyle leaves behind.
His charge has almost been killed countless times. He still has nightmares to this day because of the things the Joker has put him through and the parents the maniac took from young Bruce at such an early age. They've both lost friends and loved ones due to the bad elements of Gotham City. But of all the pains they've suffered and endured, this is surely the worst one.
Yet again, Alfred wishes he had the power to change some one. If he did, Selina would go from using her love as a weapon against his beloved charge to feeling the pains of love herself, and when he was done with her, she'd never dare hurt Bruce again. Yet, as is, there is little comfort he can offer his charge. He can try to give him sage advice, but it never works. He can hug him, but the embrace of one, old man only goes so far.
And, of course, Alfred knows too, Bruce will never let on that he's hurting so badly. He'll never allow him or any one to see him cry. He'll have his walls up today from the moment he wakes and the memories of last night start to come back to him. He'll try to be the immovable rock that Alfred knows he can't be, and all these actions will make it harder still for Alfred to console him.
Tonight, he'll hunt out the criminal element even harder. Tonight, he'll pass from one fight to another to another and yet another. He'll fight all night long for the more violence he endures and dishes out, the further he is from last night's events, the further his thoughts and heart are from a love that they all know will never work out. Selina uses it as a weapon, and it truly is Bruce's greatest weakness. Alfred almost wishes he wouldn't love so easily, so tenderly, so thoroughly - but then he wouldn't be the man Alfred himself loves.
Alfred sighs, having finished mending the costume and throws it into the wash. It will be ready again for tonight's outing, but he can't help admitting, if only to himself, that he wishes he could beg Bruce to stay. He wishes he could keep him safe, alive, well, and unharmed at home with him, but they all know that's never going to happen. "The injuries will mend, but the heart never will," he whispers, mustache bristling.
With his arms loaded with fresh clothes for Bruce Wayne, Alfred ascends the stairs, wishing he could talk to Master Bruce truly. But what would he say? he ponders again. He already knows his charge will deny everything. He'll tell him he doesn't love Selina, because it's what he tells himself every time he leaves her. He doesn't love her. He can't, because if he does, he can't do what's necessary to keep Gotham City safe and lock her away when she does too much harm.
The problem is he doesn't see the greatest harm she does. He doesn't see how her claws are still hooked deep inside of him, twisting his heart and making it putty for her claws. She plays with him like a normal cat plays with a ball of yarn, and Alfred is so very weary of it. He wants only to shut his charge away from the world, and especially from the Catwoman's hooks, and keep him safe forever more, but of course, he can't do that. Master Bruce would never allow it. He's got a city to save and people to protect after all, but as he heads first to the kitchen to prepare his charge's breakfast tray and then to his room to actually wake him, Alfred can not help wondering how he himself is supposed to protect the young man he loves far more than anything else in this cruel world.
Bruce groans, as he always does, when Alfred pulls his curtains aside to let the sunshine flood into his room and further wake him. He shields his eyes from the bright rays. Alfred catches his gaze as he sets his tray before him, and for a moment, he sees the pain and the unacknowledged tears wetting his master's eyes. For a moment, he sees the weak and gentle, very human man Bruce tries so hard not to be every night. For a moment, he sees his hurt, and he wishes again with all his might that he can remove it.
But he knows he can not, so just as he does every morning of every day, Alfred stands by his charge and watches him hide from the harsh truths of his life as he prepares to save others, wishing all the while that he could save him. He can mend costumes. He can set broken bones and give advice, answer questions when they are asked. He can cook him breakfast every morning and reheat his dinner every night when it grows cold. He can even pretend to be him when it's needed.
He only wishes broken hearts were as easy as mend, but if they were, his beloved charge would never have set on the path of the Batman in the beginning. He would have been healed from his parents' murders instead of still looking for a way to atone for their deaths. His heart would have been whole, and their lives would have been so much better, so much easier, so much happier. But it's not, and they're not, so Alfred does the one thing he can: He stands by his charge every day and every night while there's still breath left in his old body, always wishing he could mend broken hearts.
The End
To Tame A Bat, posted 11-24-11, rated K/G
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Cats
As much as he hates to admit it, Batman knows he's tamed.
Batman sweeps in over Catwoman's sprawled babies. As wild as she is, he is just as tamed. He'll always stay close to Gotham, doing all he can to protect her. He'll never leave her for long, and yet his beloved Catwoman, though she loves her babies every bit as much, has no such ties.
They go where she goes. She'll take them to the ends of the earth if she chooses. He smiles. He'd do all he could to follow if she did. It's not really Gotham that's tamed him. It's her, and he'll come back to her every time.
The End
Under His Influence, posted 12-19-17, rated K+/PG
Characters: Bruce/Selina
He's worse than catnip.
If she had a tail, it would be swishing like crazy right about now. She can practically feel that invisible extension of her body as she paces, muttering underneath her breath. She shouldn't be here. This isn't her fight. It isn't her cause or her babies'. She shouldn't be here, but yet here she is any way.
She looks up as her partner slides into the room. He embraces her, kisses her lips softly, quickly, before turning to stand beside her. The enemy will be here any moment. She could run easily. She could leave him, leave his companions to die, but she knows she won't. She's here until the end, just as prepared to die as any one else in this room full of heroes yet for another reason entirely.
She glances at the man beside her. If they live through this, he's going to owe her big. She stifles a sigh, stills her invisible tail from swishing yet again, reaching out, and holds his hand. He's the reason she's here. He's the reason for most of what she does these days. She's always said he's like catnip, but being under his influence is worse than her favorite drug!
The End
Unmasked Lovers, posted 12-25-10, rated M/R
Characters: Bruce/Selina
Catwoman gives her beloved Batman a treat on the most magical night of the year, but will there be a trick too?
He knew before he even set foot upon the rooftop that the Commissioner was not there and had not been the one to call him this night. There was something different about tonight's calling, something not quite right and yet that sang of a hopeful encounter. Although the police were the only ones who were supposed to use his signal, he had also been called to this very rooftop through the same method many times before by ones who had never worn a badge. It had, on occasion, been a trick to lure him into a trap, but often, too, it had been a signal from the one woman who he would always love more than any one else but whom he also could never have as his own.
Sometimes Bruce thought about hanging up his Batman costume, and though the loss that made him think about retiring was sometimes completely unrelated to his love, most of the time it was because of this one wonderful woman who refused to walk the straight line. He had even gotten her to try to be on his side of the law a few times, but she always went back across the line and, he knew, she always would. She could never fight the good fight for long for she lived by a different set of morals, by her own laws. She would never understand that, in order to truly be a force of good, the hero, or heroine as the case may be, could never stoop to the same lows as the villain, and whereas he had tried to explain the matter to her many times, Bruce knew that she would never understand and could never live the way he did. It just wasn't in her furry nature.
A wry grin twisted the Batman's lips. Had he just cracked a joke? If only the children could have heard him! No matter his sidekick at the time, whether it be any of the Robins whom he had loved, Batgirl, or even some fill-in kid, they all always thought that he was without a single humor bone in his body, and indeed they were, for the most part, right. Only she could bring out the lighter side of the Bat. Only she could lift his dark thoughts and shine hope again into his world that was always growing darker without her presence shining like a beacon of hope inside of it.
He wondered where she'd been this time. He'd not seen her in months and knew that she'd undoubtedly been working on some case to help some poor animal souls somewhere. She was every bit as much devoted to her cause of protecting animals, and especially her beloved cats, as he was to saving mankind, and that was yet another thing that continued to drive them apart. Bruce loved animals - she had taught him that love over the years -, but he could never stand to the side and let her do to the hunters of the world what she longed to do to them. It wasn't that they didn't deserve it, he reflected. It was simply that, as wrong as their doings were, they were still within the law, and besides, where his love wanted to kill them, he could never commit a crime or stand idly by and let one be committed.
He hung his head as he touched down upon the roof of the police headquarters. She was not the one who stood in their way. As much as he hated to admit it, even in silence to himself, he knew the truth. He was the one who continued to force their inevitable separations, but he could not change himself no more than she could change herself.
His keen eyes flitted around his surroundings as he landed, and a pout pulled at the straight line of his mouth. The place appeared deserted, completely empty save for the Batsignal and a few chairs pushed against one wall. Had he been wrong? He stepped forward, and a gentle wind rustled his cape.
A few more steps carried him pass the brightest edges of the light, and he was able to spy a few more things upon the roof. Looking closer, he realized that they were pumpkins. His blue eyes widened. Although they were carved, they were not ordinary jack-o-lanterns. Indeed they were not even grinning. He picked up the nearest one to make a closer inspection and smiled.
She had definitely been here for he would recognize the marks of her deadly (but wonderful on his back when they were not fighting) claws anywhere! "Selina . . . " he murmured, inspecting the carving of a bat with pride. He sat the first pumpkin down and picked up the second. His grin grew as he recognized the cat carved into its orange surface.
The next pumpkin almost caused his mask of the Batman to fall away as laughter nearly escaped him. The cat was now upon the bat's trail! She had truly outdone herself on these pumpkins, he thought, marveling at the artwork, as he picked up one after another. Each pumpkin wore a new scene depicting the cat's chasing and eventual catching of the bat until, upon the very last pumpkin, the one set directly before the signal itself, where the cat had caught the bat, she licked him!
He could stand it no longer. Thoroughly delighted in his lady love's artwork, Bruce threw his head back and laughed deeply until the sound of a rumbling purr came to his ears. He looked around but did not yet see her.
"I'm glad you like it," Catwoman purred as she stepped into the light.
"This is my treat," he announced, grinning and looking warily at her beauty. "Do I get a trick too?"
He stood his ground as she snapped her whip out and around his shoulders. It struck him with surprising gentility for the blow. The knowledge of what was to come deepened the curve of his soft and supple lips a split second before the whip tightened around him and she began to pull him to her. He grinned at her, feeling uncharacteristically impish, and his following wink was the only warning she received before he grasped the whip, snatched it away from her control, and yanked both whip and woman into his waiting arms.
Catwoman gasped in surprise, but her gasp transformed just as swiftly into a deep and husky purr as he had acted to bring her to the hold of his arms where she belonged. She pressed her body against his, and they felt every inch of each other's burning, muscular bodies through their tight, leather costumes. "Feeling batty tonight, lover?" Catwoman breathed as she leaned up and positioned her lips a mere breath from his. Her smile, in which both love and mischief mingled, grew as she admitted, "Me too." Without giving him a chance to respond, she closed the tiny distance remaining between them as she seductively dragged her tongue across his heated lips.
His reaction was immediate, and her purr deepened as she felt the rising, stiff alert of his most private Batarang against her own hot core. She rubbed herself against him as she offered, "You've always been the one to provide the trick, Batsy. It's up to you. This is a night full of magic and possibilities intended for the wearing of masks and costumes. Do you want all the treats I have to offer you, or must you purrsist in our love being a trick?"
Batman frowned. "I . . . wouldn't call it a trick . . . " he said, fumbling for the right words. He knew exactly what she was hinting at with her teasing words, and he felt a different kind of heat, an embarrassed heat that rarely touched him, fanning him inside of his Batsuit. It was true. He was the one who stood between their being together, but he had no choice. He could no more change who he was than she could be a good girl.
And did he really want her to be a good girl? a small voice in the back of his mind argued. He loved her for all that she was, and if she ever dulled herself or forced herself to change to meet the conformities of other's opinions, she would not be the same strong, brave, and wonderful woman whom he loved so much that at times it even hurt. Hurt because they could not be together, he knew, and he was indeed guilty of forcing their relationship to be the trick she called it.
He blew out a breath of frustration, and she cupped his handsome face in her loving hands. "It doesn't always have to be that way."
"Catwoman," he spoke, placing his hands over her gloved hands and rubbing her soft, satiny flesh gently through the leather, "you know I can't . . . "
"I know," she agreed in a soft, breathy purr and nodded, "and I'm not asking you to do anything you can't, Bruce. I'm asking for one night only, this night, this night made for magick and possibilities, for the wearing of costumes and having spooktacular fun. Let the rest of the world run around in masks tonight, but not us. We don't have to wear masks between each other. There doesn't have to be anything between us save what already is."
"I know you can't change, no more than I can, and I'm not asking you to do so. I'm just asking you to love me, to let the world go by this one night and love me like you mean it." Her emerald eyes glistened behind her mask. "Like there's no tomorrow. Like this one night will last us forever, because it is forever for us." She searched his shining, baby blue orbs. "Can you do that?"
He took her left hand down from his face and gently drew her long glove off. Then he repeated the same maneuver with her right hand and stripped his own gauntlets off. Gazing into her eyes, he held her hands, and their fingers entwined. Though his head was nowhere near her breast and he knew that it was physically impossible, he could hear her heart beating fast and strong but also scared. He could hear it beating for his beat the same rhythm and was one with hers.
Letting go of her hands, he boldly unmasked himself first and then delicately drew her own mask off. "I always do," he told her in his deep, emotionally-etched voice, "and I always will. I love you, Selina and Catwoman, and nothing's ever going to change the way I feel for you even if we can't change ourselves!" Then, taking her beautiful face into his hands and burying his aching, searching fingers into her silken, raven locks, he kissed her long and deep. She purred her eternal love for him alone as she melted into him, their bodies becoming one as they were always meant to be underneath the bright Halloween moonlight.
The End
Up Against The Wall, posted 6-27-13, rated M/R
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Arizona
Selina'd rather a man have her up against a wall.
"Don't you love it when a guy turns out to really be like Prince Charming and comes to your rescue?" Arizona breathed a happy sigh as they watched the hero in the movie come to the damsel's rescue. She grabbed another fistful of popcorn without taking her eyes from the film and shoved the kernels into her grinning mouth.
"Hardly," Selina replied, almost icily. The cats who sat beside her, in her lap, on her shoulder, behind her back, and at her feet all swished their tails. Their green eyes turned to the human girl, and several shook their furry heads. The kid had much to learn. "One, Arizona, you need to wake up and realize there is no Prince Charming. There's only us, kid, to rescue ourselves and each other."
Selina shrugged her bare shoulders and leaned back into the couch, trying again to relax enough to enjoy the silliness of the fairy tale playing before them. "Besides, and two, I'd rather a hunk have me up against the wall." Her nose scrunched at the delightful idea. A cat's tail flashed over her left foot. The queen sitting on her right meowed. Selina grinned and rubbed her head, knowing she had the same, becoming idea as she did.
"You like to argue with them?" Arizona queried, pausing another handful of buttery, caramel popcorn halfway to her mouth. It did make some sense, the teenager thought, remembering her heroine's many, fabled trysts with the Batman. Those two argued and fought as much as they made love, if not more often.
Selina's smile was broad, predatory, and made her look like she was the cat who'd just eaten the bird. Arizona knew it was a bat instead and blushed lightly as Selina purred, her fingernails gently kneading two of her cats' thick coats, "I had something else in mind." Her eyebrows waggled. "Although that could work, too . . . "
She stood suddenly, licking her lips at the memory that played through her mind. Being pushed against the wall by her Batman had never been a dull moment. "Go ahead and enjoy your movie, Arizona, but this is too dumb for me. No woman needs a man to rescue her." She stretched slow and leisurely like the happy kitty she was. "Besides, I suddenly find the idea of a cold shower far more entertaining."
Arizona could almost swear she saw a long, black tail sashaying from underneath the short hem of Selina's black miniskirt as she walked away. Arizona turned back to her movie as action began again while Selina shut the bathroom door on the kid and the world. She let her clothes pool to the floor as she remembered the way Batman's lips had scorched every inch of her skin that they'd been able to find the last night they were together.
She moaned as she stepped into the shower. Droplets were nothing compared to Bruce's fingers, but they'd have to do. She opened a tiny bag she kept behind her shampoo and let its scent waft over her. Even as she rubbed the catnip over her bare and soapy breasts, Selina knew the shower was going to do her no good. She had to find a Bat tonight, and this time, she was going to press him against the wall!
The End
What A Way To Go!, posted 3-18-17, rated K+/PG
Characters: Harley/Ivy
She knows her girlfriend's right, but oh, what a way to go!
"We did it!" Harley exclaims joyously, bouncing on the balls of her feet toward Ivy. "We actually did it! Just the two of us! Did you see how I took care of those fuzz?"
"I did." Ivy's arms are loaded with sparkling jewels that will be more than enough to sustain her babies and research for several months to come, maybe even a year.
"We did great! We make a kickass team!"
Ivy barely registers that Harley is leaning in close to her before her mouth is almost on hers. "Wait!" she warns, throwing up her arms and dropping the jewels.
"Ivy!" Harley wails after finding herself kissing Ivy's glove instead of her lips.
"Sorry, Harls, but you know the rules."
"I know! I know you're toxic, but I don't care!" She's seen her kill men with just a touch of her lips, but she really doesn't care. When she wants to kiss her woman, she wants to kiss her woman!
"I know," Ivy retaliates, pulling a pair of plastic lips out from her glove, "but I do!" She secures the fake lips into place before reaching for Harley. "Now come here, baby." She hooks her fingers gently around Harley's neck and leads her in for a deep kiss. The kiss is enjoyable and passionate, but Harley still can't help sighing against her faux lips and wondering what it would be like to really kiss Ivy. It would probably kill her, she knows, but oh, what a way to go!
The End
When Thievery's The Only Way To Go, posted 1-21-13, rated K/G
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Alfred
Sometimes, thievery is the only way to go.
He strokes his ward's head, no longer able to stop the tears that he'd trained himself years ago not to allow to fall in front of him to weep down his wrinkled face or keep his thoughts at bay. This should be him fading away in this bed, not the man who, he can admit now, at last, is the closest thing he'll ever know to a son. "Alfred," Bruce's voice is still strong as he suddenly reaches out and grasps the hand of the person who's always been much more to him than his butler.
He was his best friend when he was a child and became his surrogate parent when his real parents were killed. Bruce blinks bleary eyes around his bedroom. There's not a single spot in his room that's not covered with flowers of all kinds, greeting cards in all sizes, and even bat-shaped balloons. He smiles weakly at the balloons, but his eyes are still sad. They've come, but they've also gone. Alfred is the only one who's been with him since he fell prey to the newest disease to hit the streets of Gotham.
"Please, Bruce," Alfred's all but begging now, "I truly do think you should consider hospitalization. They could do so much more for you there than I can here."
"No." His denial is as strong and heated as always. "We've been through this, Alfred. They have nothing that can help me there. There are only three antidotes to this virus in the entire world."
"But, Master Bruce, surely there is something they can - "
"No."
Alfred sighs and lowers his head in silent submission. He knows Bruce's hand on his is meant to be comforting, but only one thing could comfort him now: If Master Bruce would only have the common sense to seek real help.
As though he can read his thoughts, Bruce adds, and subtly changes the subject, "I'm already receiving the best help I can get right now, Alfred. They're out there, aren't they, searching for the cure?"
"Yes."
"You should have woke me while they were here."
"They had the information, Master Bruce; you need your rest."
"I need to know they're doing right - "
Alfred squeezes his hand. "They are, Master Bruce. You trained them, did you not?" He takes his silence for agreement. "They should be here, I know, Master Bruce. This room should be full of people, but - "
"Don't start telling me I chase them away again, Alfred." His voice is so low it's almost a growl.
Alfred winces, starts to pull away, but changes his mind. He needs to know why the others didn't want him awakened. Perhaps, then, he can start to build the family life he both needs and deserves. His mouth is open to speak when a sultry voice cuts ahead of him. "He's right, you know. You chase away people like a dog barking at a cat who's lost her claws. Lucky for you this cat never loses hers."
Both men look up, surprised, as Selina Kyle sashays into the room. Her every move exudes the feral, feline grace she employs in battle, but she's not in costume now. She's wearing a simple, leopard dress instead and holding a vial in her hands. Alfred's eyes widen with hope. She nods, and he moves away, allowing her access to the man whom they both love more than anybody else in the world.
Bruce's thin lips are caught between a grim line and a smile with just a twinge of pride. "You found it."
"Something like that," Selina says, checking the wires plunging into his body which is skinnier than he's ever seen it. Alfred told the others that Bruce hasn't been this skinny since he first started training to become Batman.
His eyes darken. "You stole it," Bruce announces.
Selina doesn't try to deny the fact as she plunges the vial's needle into his arm. Everybody in the room knows she would have done whatever it took to save him. He closes his eyes as the serum begins to take effect. Her catlike, green eyes watch desperately for some sign that the medicine is working, but his body remains still and deathly pale.
She looks up, and Alfred sees the unspoken fear in her eyes. He doesn't speak but does come near again and checks Bruce's heart rate. He wants to weep with joy, pray in thanks, and shout in celebration, but he does none of those things. Instead, he looks at the woman who he knows should be the new lady of Wayne Manor and tells her, with a small smile, "It's working, Miss Kyle."
Selina closes her eyes; Alfred bares witness to the single tear that traces her cheek before she wipes it away. Her eyes are hard and unreadable again when she reopens them. She leans forward over Bruce and kisses his forehead. "Catch me when you're better," she purrs to him, but then, as he had earlier with Alfred's hand, Bruce uses all his remaining strength to grasp her hand.
She looks at him in surprise. "You're not taking me in in your state." Her words are low but too full of surprise to be her usual angry hiss they are normally when he turns the tables on her.
"Master Bruce," Alfred speaks out of line, surprising all three of them, "there are things more important than catching thieves. Perhaps there are even some acceptable reasons for stealing, like saving your own life."
Bruce grins at them both. For once, he's determined to let Batman rest. "I didn't say I was arresting her." His tired, blue eyes focus on Selina. "I was just going to ask you to stay."
Selina's bright smile curves her ruby red lips and fills her beautiful face. She purrs while leaning down and kissing him again. Alfred notes the foot raised behind her and likens it unto a feline waving her tail in pleasure. "Happily," Selina answers and settles in beside him.
"I shall call the others," Alfred announces, straightening and smiling broadly at them both, "and then set to cooking. I'm quite certain every one will be hungry, including yourself, Master Bruce, and besides, this is surely an event worth celebrating!"
Bruce isn't sure if his butler's referring to his recovery or his acceptance of Selina's thievery, even if it will only last until he's well, but he says nothing. He still feels too weak to speak much, but his smile speaks volumes as he continues gazing up into Selina's beautiful, emerald orbs. He almost feels jilted when she looks away from him for a moment.
"Hey, Al," Selina calls, grinning, "got any catnip?"
Alfred nods respectfully as his smiles grows. "I shall see that we do, Miss Kyle," he promises and shuts the door on them, hoping that, at long last, his beloved Master might just have found a reason why he shouldn't dominate everybody in his life.
The End
Characters: Bruce/Alfred, Dick
Bruce and Alfred send Dick away so they can celebrate Bruce's birthday in style.
As soon as the Batmobile slid to a halt inside the safe confines of the Batcave, the teenaged Boy Wonder jumped out of the supervehicle. "Alfred! Hey, Alfred!" Robin called, grinning from ear to ear. "You'll never guess what I heard on the radio tonight!"
The cave was silent save for the screeching of the resident bats as they flew away from the noisy youth. "He's not here." Robin turned, with a pout, to Batman.
Batman grasped the boy's shoulder. "It's okay," he told him knowingly. "I told him to go on to bed, because we didn't know how late we'd be out."
Robin gave him a curious look. "And he obeyed you?"
Batman shrugged. "It is my birthday," he reminded him. "Go on up to your room and start packing. You can tell him in the morning before you leave."
*Not,* Bruce silently amended with a sly smile that he hid perfectly behind his emotionless face, *that he doesn't already know.* It had been a stroke of genius for Alfred to call the radio and get the deejay to make the announcement without mentioning his name. Robin was guaranteed to be gone for the full week, and while the Boy Wonder was gone, the men would play!
"Are you sure you won't need me?"
Batman allowed a knowing smile to curve his lips. "Absolutely. It's been relatively quiet lately for Gotham."
"Gotham's never quiet."
"That's why I said 'for Gotham'." He gave his friend's brightly-clothed shoulder a reassuring pat. "I'll be fine, Robin, but if I need you, I'll call."
"You be sure to do that."
"I will."
"You're the only thing that could drag me away from hot chicks on a nude beach." Robin grinned at his hero, then bounded up the long, curving staircase. "I still can't believe there's a National Nude Recreational Week!" he called over his shoulder.
He turned at the top of the steps, and Batman quickly hid his grin. Robin winked down at him. "Happy Birthday, Bruce!" Then he was gone.
Batman waited impatiently to make sure his sidekick had enough time to get all the way to his bedroom. While he hesitated, he peeled off his cowl and slowly removed his tight, leather costume, officially freeing the man beneath the Bat. Once he was satisfied Robin wouldn't be returning any time soon, Bruce turned around with a brilliant smile alighting his face. "You can come out now, love!"
He spotted his beloved partner's hiding spot a split moment before he shot out of the enormous cake he had wheeled into the shadows. Bruce's mouth fell open in surprise, and he reached a hand behind him and grasped his chair for support for his suddenly weakened body.
"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!" Alfred sang as he seductively danced his way closer to his sweetheart.
His moves were superbly graceful, and Bruce saw only his sensuality, gracefulness, and handsomeness as Alfred danced to him. His sword had began to raise its eager flag the moment Alfred had leapt out of his huge cake, and he was painfully hard by the time he finally reached him. He started to kneel before him as he sang, "Happy Birthday, my sweet love, Master Bruce!"
"What did I tell you?" Bruce demanded with a lusty growl as he wrapped his muscular arms gently around Alfred's torso and pulled him back to his feet and to his own lips.
Bruce's heated mouth covered Alfred's with such scorching passion that it brought immediate moans to them both. Their lips silenced their moans, but then they escaped as their mouths opened and their tongues dove deeper into each other's sweet nectars. Their hands lovingly caressed each spot of one another's bared bodies that they could reach as their tongues strove deeper, harder, and faster into their mouths. Their lovers' moans were pure, beautiful music to their ears as they caressed and kissed one another with all the passion and love they'd only ever feel for each other.
"Don't . . . call . . . me . . . Master," Bruce moaned against Alfred's lips that burned him hotter than any sun ever had or would.
Alfred abandoned his lover's delicious mouth and dropped with his surprising swiftness to his knees. "You will always be my Master, my darling Brucie," he told him, his voice heavily husky with his intense need and desire for his soul mate. As he spoke, his hands swept ever lower over Bruce's strong body, caressing his sculptured muscles, torso, and back before finally scooping his fine, bare buttocks and pulling him even closer to him.
"You alone, my dearest and only love, are the Master of my heart, body, and soul, but I choose you to be my Master now, in the past, forever, and beyond! I love you, and it is my rightful choice, - and moreover, by far, my pleasure - to serve beneath you." His hands switched to his front and slid over his long, sleek manhood before moving to massage his testes.
"Alfred . . . " Bruce moaned, his hands burying in his lover's beautiful, snowy white hair.
"Happy Birthday, my beloved Master!"
Bruce gasped as Alfred wrapped his hot lips around his steed. He was instantaneously lost to the sultry power of his love. As Alfred sucked him, Bruce cried out with his pleasure. "I love you!" he managed to exclaim as his fireworks shot into Alfred's mouth.
Alfred drank every drop he gave him and then licked his lips before gazing with adoring love shining in his eyes up at him and answering, "And I love you, my sweet Master Bruce, so please allow me the pleasure of continuing to please you!" He went down harder on his love's roaring steed and took his whole staff within his hot and sensual mouth. Bruce's moans played like the finest of violins on Alfred's ears as he continued to cum for the rest of the night. They joyously celebrated his birthday and every day of their lives together beneath the touch of their hearts' Masters.
The End
To Mend Broken Hearts, posted 3-19-17, rated K+/PG
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Alfred
If only it was as easy to mend broken hearts.
He remembers when mysterious holes first started showing up in Master Bruce's clothes. He was concerned for his young charge, but at the time, he could never have imagined the true reason behind the rips and treads that he mended dutifully every morning. He imagined all sorts of scenarios, but everything he thought of was very far indeed from the truth. Eventually, of course, he learned the truth behind the tears, but it did nothing to ease his mind. It only worried him a thousand times more.
Bruce tells him not to worry every night when he's around and he sets out into the city in the Batmobile. He is trained in a plethora of fighting styles, and there is no man, hero or villain, who is more adept at what he does. Still, Alfred can not help but to worry. What kind of a friend, of a guardian even, would he be if he didn't worry when he knows the life of his charge - and though he may no longer be young, he will always be Alfred's charge - is in jeopardy every moment of every night and sometimes well into the daylight?
Every night, he busies himself mending holes, washing dishes and even walls, cleaning the manor from top to bottom, and utilizing the Batcomputer however he can to help his charge until he finally passes out. He's almost always fast asleep these nights by the time Bruce slips back into the manor, but every morning, as soon as he wakes, he slips into Bruce's room and checks just to make certain he's present and sleeping. Then he always goes for his uniform.
The old costume has changed in many ways over the years his charge has been fighting crime. It started out being mere cloth, and now it's Kevlar and leather and lined with one of the strongest materials known to man. It's no small feat for a villain to put a hole in Batman's uniform now, but it still happens. Almost every night, it still happens.
Alfred can tell a great deal about his charge's previous night by the way his costume looks in the bright light of the morning sun. He can tell rather he was shot at or stabbed and how deep any wounds he may otherwise hide from him are. Most of the time, he can even tell which ruthless villain left their mark on the man who could not be more his son if Alfred had given birth to him himself.
This morning is no exception. The butler frowns deeply as he sticks two fingers through a slash in Batman's uniform. There's no doubt at all in his mind who Bruce was with last night. The very next thought that crosses his mind is wondering if he let her go, as he sometimes does, or if he threw Selina into Arkham, where the conniving woman belongs. He makes a mental note to check the morning paper and see if the headlines can tell him anything of use before he wakes Bruce for his breakfast.
It's rare that Batman lets any criminal walk away, but Selina has walked the most out of all the ones they've known. Bruce will not voice his feelings for her, but all who know him well know the very reason why the Catwoman remains on the loose. God help them, but the man loves her! Which is exactly the reason why Alfred considers her to be one of his most dangerous enemies. She's certainly a conniving, little tart, using his charge's feelings to keep her own hide safe in the dangerous games she plays.
He'd like nothing more than to see her locked up in Arkham and stay there for once, but goodness knows everybody who goes to Arkham, eventually manages to get out. It seems to be one of the unspoken rules of the universe that his dear charge will have to chase after criminal he locks away again and again as long as he insists on protecting a city who doesn't deserve protection, let alone protection by him.
Alfred's fingers wriggle up at him, and the old man sighs, his mustache quivering with his worry. That Catwoman keeps her claws hooked into his boy so well that Alfred fears she will be the reason why Bruce doesn't come home one of these nights. She's kept him from coming home before, and indeed so have other things he faces as a masked vigilante, but he's always come home to him eventually. Alfred's greatest fear is that there will come a time when he doesn't come home - ever, because he's not able to.
Tears moisten the butler's eyes. His mustache twitches again. He sinks back against the washing machine and starts the dutiful task of mending his charge's uniform yet again, but with every stitch, he thinks about the claws that scratched his child and left these marks behind. The body heals, but he knows better than most that the heart never truly does. The marks Selina left on Bruce's body last night will eventually fade and heal until there's nothing left behind but perhaps the faintest mark, a hint on his skin of what had been and might be again, but the marks she left on his heart are unreachable by any one else.
It's not the first time Alfred thinks about donning the costume himself and going after the wily bitch. If he was to catch her, he'd lock her away in a place where she'd never be found or heard from again. He'd keep his master, and charge, safe. He sighs again, knowing that that still wouldn't heal Bruce's heart. There's nothing he can do, he knows with a sinking feeling in his own heart, to heal the wounds Selina Kyle leaves behind.
His charge has almost been killed countless times. He still has nightmares to this day because of the things the Joker has put him through and the parents the maniac took from young Bruce at such an early age. They've both lost friends and loved ones due to the bad elements of Gotham City. But of all the pains they've suffered and endured, this is surely the worst one.
Yet again, Alfred wishes he had the power to change some one. If he did, Selina would go from using her love as a weapon against his beloved charge to feeling the pains of love herself, and when he was done with her, she'd never dare hurt Bruce again. Yet, as is, there is little comfort he can offer his charge. He can try to give him sage advice, but it never works. He can hug him, but the embrace of one, old man only goes so far.
And, of course, Alfred knows too, Bruce will never let on that he's hurting so badly. He'll never allow him or any one to see him cry. He'll have his walls up today from the moment he wakes and the memories of last night start to come back to him. He'll try to be the immovable rock that Alfred knows he can't be, and all these actions will make it harder still for Alfred to console him.
Tonight, he'll hunt out the criminal element even harder. Tonight, he'll pass from one fight to another to another and yet another. He'll fight all night long for the more violence he endures and dishes out, the further he is from last night's events, the further his thoughts and heart are from a love that they all know will never work out. Selina uses it as a weapon, and it truly is Bruce's greatest weakness. Alfred almost wishes he wouldn't love so easily, so tenderly, so thoroughly - but then he wouldn't be the man Alfred himself loves.
Alfred sighs, having finished mending the costume and throws it into the wash. It will be ready again for tonight's outing, but he can't help admitting, if only to himself, that he wishes he could beg Bruce to stay. He wishes he could keep him safe, alive, well, and unharmed at home with him, but they all know that's never going to happen. "The injuries will mend, but the heart never will," he whispers, mustache bristling.
With his arms loaded with fresh clothes for Bruce Wayne, Alfred ascends the stairs, wishing he could talk to Master Bruce truly. But what would he say? he ponders again. He already knows his charge will deny everything. He'll tell him he doesn't love Selina, because it's what he tells himself every time he leaves her. He doesn't love her. He can't, because if he does, he can't do what's necessary to keep Gotham City safe and lock her away when she does too much harm.
The problem is he doesn't see the greatest harm she does. He doesn't see how her claws are still hooked deep inside of him, twisting his heart and making it putty for her claws. She plays with him like a normal cat plays with a ball of yarn, and Alfred is so very weary of it. He wants only to shut his charge away from the world, and especially from the Catwoman's hooks, and keep him safe forever more, but of course, he can't do that. Master Bruce would never allow it. He's got a city to save and people to protect after all, but as he heads first to the kitchen to prepare his charge's breakfast tray and then to his room to actually wake him, Alfred can not help wondering how he himself is supposed to protect the young man he loves far more than anything else in this cruel world.
Bruce groans, as he always does, when Alfred pulls his curtains aside to let the sunshine flood into his room and further wake him. He shields his eyes from the bright rays. Alfred catches his gaze as he sets his tray before him, and for a moment, he sees the pain and the unacknowledged tears wetting his master's eyes. For a moment, he sees the weak and gentle, very human man Bruce tries so hard not to be every night. For a moment, he sees his hurt, and he wishes again with all his might that he can remove it.
But he knows he can not, so just as he does every morning of every day, Alfred stands by his charge and watches him hide from the harsh truths of his life as he prepares to save others, wishing all the while that he could save him. He can mend costumes. He can set broken bones and give advice, answer questions when they are asked. He can cook him breakfast every morning and reheat his dinner every night when it grows cold. He can even pretend to be him when it's needed.
He only wishes broken hearts were as easy as mend, but if they were, his beloved charge would never have set on the path of the Batman in the beginning. He would have been healed from his parents' murders instead of still looking for a way to atone for their deaths. His heart would have been whole, and their lives would have been so much better, so much easier, so much happier. But it's not, and they're not, so Alfred does the one thing he can: He stands by his charge every day and every night while there's still breath left in his old body, always wishing he could mend broken hearts.
The End
To Tame A Bat, posted 11-24-11, rated K/G
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Cats
As much as he hates to admit it, Batman knows he's tamed.
Batman sweeps in over Catwoman's sprawled babies. As wild as she is, he is just as tamed. He'll always stay close to Gotham, doing all he can to protect her. He'll never leave her for long, and yet his beloved Catwoman, though she loves her babies every bit as much, has no such ties.
They go where she goes. She'll take them to the ends of the earth if she chooses. He smiles. He'd do all he could to follow if she did. It's not really Gotham that's tamed him. It's her, and he'll come back to her every time.
The End
Under His Influence, posted 12-19-17, rated K+/PG
Characters: Bruce/Selina
He's worse than catnip.
If she had a tail, it would be swishing like crazy right about now. She can practically feel that invisible extension of her body as she paces, muttering underneath her breath. She shouldn't be here. This isn't her fight. It isn't her cause or her babies'. She shouldn't be here, but yet here she is any way.
She looks up as her partner slides into the room. He embraces her, kisses her lips softly, quickly, before turning to stand beside her. The enemy will be here any moment. She could run easily. She could leave him, leave his companions to die, but she knows she won't. She's here until the end, just as prepared to die as any one else in this room full of heroes yet for another reason entirely.
She glances at the man beside her. If they live through this, he's going to owe her big. She stifles a sigh, stills her invisible tail from swishing yet again, reaching out, and holds his hand. He's the reason she's here. He's the reason for most of what she does these days. She's always said he's like catnip, but being under his influence is worse than her favorite drug!
The End
Unmasked Lovers, posted 12-25-10, rated M/R
Characters: Bruce/Selina
Catwoman gives her beloved Batman a treat on the most magical night of the year, but will there be a trick too?
He knew before he even set foot upon the rooftop that the Commissioner was not there and had not been the one to call him this night. There was something different about tonight's calling, something not quite right and yet that sang of a hopeful encounter. Although the police were the only ones who were supposed to use his signal, he had also been called to this very rooftop through the same method many times before by ones who had never worn a badge. It had, on occasion, been a trick to lure him into a trap, but often, too, it had been a signal from the one woman who he would always love more than any one else but whom he also could never have as his own.
Sometimes Bruce thought about hanging up his Batman costume, and though the loss that made him think about retiring was sometimes completely unrelated to his love, most of the time it was because of this one wonderful woman who refused to walk the straight line. He had even gotten her to try to be on his side of the law a few times, but she always went back across the line and, he knew, she always would. She could never fight the good fight for long for she lived by a different set of morals, by her own laws. She would never understand that, in order to truly be a force of good, the hero, or heroine as the case may be, could never stoop to the same lows as the villain, and whereas he had tried to explain the matter to her many times, Bruce knew that she would never understand and could never live the way he did. It just wasn't in her furry nature.
A wry grin twisted the Batman's lips. Had he just cracked a joke? If only the children could have heard him! No matter his sidekick at the time, whether it be any of the Robins whom he had loved, Batgirl, or even some fill-in kid, they all always thought that he was without a single humor bone in his body, and indeed they were, for the most part, right. Only she could bring out the lighter side of the Bat. Only she could lift his dark thoughts and shine hope again into his world that was always growing darker without her presence shining like a beacon of hope inside of it.
He wondered where she'd been this time. He'd not seen her in months and knew that she'd undoubtedly been working on some case to help some poor animal souls somewhere. She was every bit as much devoted to her cause of protecting animals, and especially her beloved cats, as he was to saving mankind, and that was yet another thing that continued to drive them apart. Bruce loved animals - she had taught him that love over the years -, but he could never stand to the side and let her do to the hunters of the world what she longed to do to them. It wasn't that they didn't deserve it, he reflected. It was simply that, as wrong as their doings were, they were still within the law, and besides, where his love wanted to kill them, he could never commit a crime or stand idly by and let one be committed.
He hung his head as he touched down upon the roof of the police headquarters. She was not the one who stood in their way. As much as he hated to admit it, even in silence to himself, he knew the truth. He was the one who continued to force their inevitable separations, but he could not change himself no more than she could change herself.
His keen eyes flitted around his surroundings as he landed, and a pout pulled at the straight line of his mouth. The place appeared deserted, completely empty save for the Batsignal and a few chairs pushed against one wall. Had he been wrong? He stepped forward, and a gentle wind rustled his cape.
A few more steps carried him pass the brightest edges of the light, and he was able to spy a few more things upon the roof. Looking closer, he realized that they were pumpkins. His blue eyes widened. Although they were carved, they were not ordinary jack-o-lanterns. Indeed they were not even grinning. He picked up the nearest one to make a closer inspection and smiled.
She had definitely been here for he would recognize the marks of her deadly (but wonderful on his back when they were not fighting) claws anywhere! "Selina . . . " he murmured, inspecting the carving of a bat with pride. He sat the first pumpkin down and picked up the second. His grin grew as he recognized the cat carved into its orange surface.
The next pumpkin almost caused his mask of the Batman to fall away as laughter nearly escaped him. The cat was now upon the bat's trail! She had truly outdone herself on these pumpkins, he thought, marveling at the artwork, as he picked up one after another. Each pumpkin wore a new scene depicting the cat's chasing and eventual catching of the bat until, upon the very last pumpkin, the one set directly before the signal itself, where the cat had caught the bat, she licked him!
He could stand it no longer. Thoroughly delighted in his lady love's artwork, Bruce threw his head back and laughed deeply until the sound of a rumbling purr came to his ears. He looked around but did not yet see her.
"I'm glad you like it," Catwoman purred as she stepped into the light.
"This is my treat," he announced, grinning and looking warily at her beauty. "Do I get a trick too?"
He stood his ground as she snapped her whip out and around his shoulders. It struck him with surprising gentility for the blow. The knowledge of what was to come deepened the curve of his soft and supple lips a split second before the whip tightened around him and she began to pull him to her. He grinned at her, feeling uncharacteristically impish, and his following wink was the only warning she received before he grasped the whip, snatched it away from her control, and yanked both whip and woman into his waiting arms.
Catwoman gasped in surprise, but her gasp transformed just as swiftly into a deep and husky purr as he had acted to bring her to the hold of his arms where she belonged. She pressed her body against his, and they felt every inch of each other's burning, muscular bodies through their tight, leather costumes. "Feeling batty tonight, lover?" Catwoman breathed as she leaned up and positioned her lips a mere breath from his. Her smile, in which both love and mischief mingled, grew as she admitted, "Me too." Without giving him a chance to respond, she closed the tiny distance remaining between them as she seductively dragged her tongue across his heated lips.
His reaction was immediate, and her purr deepened as she felt the rising, stiff alert of his most private Batarang against her own hot core. She rubbed herself against him as she offered, "You've always been the one to provide the trick, Batsy. It's up to you. This is a night full of magic and possibilities intended for the wearing of masks and costumes. Do you want all the treats I have to offer you, or must you purrsist in our love being a trick?"
Batman frowned. "I . . . wouldn't call it a trick . . . " he said, fumbling for the right words. He knew exactly what she was hinting at with her teasing words, and he felt a different kind of heat, an embarrassed heat that rarely touched him, fanning him inside of his Batsuit. It was true. He was the one who stood between their being together, but he had no choice. He could no more change who he was than she could be a good girl.
And did he really want her to be a good girl? a small voice in the back of his mind argued. He loved her for all that she was, and if she ever dulled herself or forced herself to change to meet the conformities of other's opinions, she would not be the same strong, brave, and wonderful woman whom he loved so much that at times it even hurt. Hurt because they could not be together, he knew, and he was indeed guilty of forcing their relationship to be the trick she called it.
He blew out a breath of frustration, and she cupped his handsome face in her loving hands. "It doesn't always have to be that way."
"Catwoman," he spoke, placing his hands over her gloved hands and rubbing her soft, satiny flesh gently through the leather, "you know I can't . . . "
"I know," she agreed in a soft, breathy purr and nodded, "and I'm not asking you to do anything you can't, Bruce. I'm asking for one night only, this night, this night made for magick and possibilities, for the wearing of costumes and having spooktacular fun. Let the rest of the world run around in masks tonight, but not us. We don't have to wear masks between each other. There doesn't have to be anything between us save what already is."
"I know you can't change, no more than I can, and I'm not asking you to do so. I'm just asking you to love me, to let the world go by this one night and love me like you mean it." Her emerald eyes glistened behind her mask. "Like there's no tomorrow. Like this one night will last us forever, because it is forever for us." She searched his shining, baby blue orbs. "Can you do that?"
He took her left hand down from his face and gently drew her long glove off. Then he repeated the same maneuver with her right hand and stripped his own gauntlets off. Gazing into her eyes, he held her hands, and their fingers entwined. Though his head was nowhere near her breast and he knew that it was physically impossible, he could hear her heart beating fast and strong but also scared. He could hear it beating for his beat the same rhythm and was one with hers.
Letting go of her hands, he boldly unmasked himself first and then delicately drew her own mask off. "I always do," he told her in his deep, emotionally-etched voice, "and I always will. I love you, Selina and Catwoman, and nothing's ever going to change the way I feel for you even if we can't change ourselves!" Then, taking her beautiful face into his hands and burying his aching, searching fingers into her silken, raven locks, he kissed her long and deep. She purred her eternal love for him alone as she melted into him, their bodies becoming one as they were always meant to be underneath the bright Halloween moonlight.
The End
Up Against The Wall, posted 6-27-13, rated M/R
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Arizona
Selina'd rather a man have her up against a wall.
"Don't you love it when a guy turns out to really be like Prince Charming and comes to your rescue?" Arizona breathed a happy sigh as they watched the hero in the movie come to the damsel's rescue. She grabbed another fistful of popcorn without taking her eyes from the film and shoved the kernels into her grinning mouth.
"Hardly," Selina replied, almost icily. The cats who sat beside her, in her lap, on her shoulder, behind her back, and at her feet all swished their tails. Their green eyes turned to the human girl, and several shook their furry heads. The kid had much to learn. "One, Arizona, you need to wake up and realize there is no Prince Charming. There's only us, kid, to rescue ourselves and each other."
Selina shrugged her bare shoulders and leaned back into the couch, trying again to relax enough to enjoy the silliness of the fairy tale playing before them. "Besides, and two, I'd rather a hunk have me up against the wall." Her nose scrunched at the delightful idea. A cat's tail flashed over her left foot. The queen sitting on her right meowed. Selina grinned and rubbed her head, knowing she had the same, becoming idea as she did.
"You like to argue with them?" Arizona queried, pausing another handful of buttery, caramel popcorn halfway to her mouth. It did make some sense, the teenager thought, remembering her heroine's many, fabled trysts with the Batman. Those two argued and fought as much as they made love, if not more often.
Selina's smile was broad, predatory, and made her look like she was the cat who'd just eaten the bird. Arizona knew it was a bat instead and blushed lightly as Selina purred, her fingernails gently kneading two of her cats' thick coats, "I had something else in mind." Her eyebrows waggled. "Although that could work, too . . . "
She stood suddenly, licking her lips at the memory that played through her mind. Being pushed against the wall by her Batman had never been a dull moment. "Go ahead and enjoy your movie, Arizona, but this is too dumb for me. No woman needs a man to rescue her." She stretched slow and leisurely like the happy kitty she was. "Besides, I suddenly find the idea of a cold shower far more entertaining."
Arizona could almost swear she saw a long, black tail sashaying from underneath the short hem of Selina's black miniskirt as she walked away. Arizona turned back to her movie as action began again while Selina shut the bathroom door on the kid and the world. She let her clothes pool to the floor as she remembered the way Batman's lips had scorched every inch of her skin that they'd been able to find the last night they were together.
She moaned as she stepped into the shower. Droplets were nothing compared to Bruce's fingers, but they'd have to do. She opened a tiny bag she kept behind her shampoo and let its scent waft over her. Even as she rubbed the catnip over her bare and soapy breasts, Selina knew the shower was going to do her no good. She had to find a Bat tonight, and this time, she was going to press him against the wall!
The End
What A Way To Go!, posted 3-18-17, rated K+/PG
Characters: Harley/Ivy
She knows her girlfriend's right, but oh, what a way to go!
"We did it!" Harley exclaims joyously, bouncing on the balls of her feet toward Ivy. "We actually did it! Just the two of us! Did you see how I took care of those fuzz?"
"I did." Ivy's arms are loaded with sparkling jewels that will be more than enough to sustain her babies and research for several months to come, maybe even a year.
"We did great! We make a kickass team!"
Ivy barely registers that Harley is leaning in close to her before her mouth is almost on hers. "Wait!" she warns, throwing up her arms and dropping the jewels.
"Ivy!" Harley wails after finding herself kissing Ivy's glove instead of her lips.
"Sorry, Harls, but you know the rules."
"I know! I know you're toxic, but I don't care!" She's seen her kill men with just a touch of her lips, but she really doesn't care. When she wants to kiss her woman, she wants to kiss her woman!
"I know," Ivy retaliates, pulling a pair of plastic lips out from her glove, "but I do!" She secures the fake lips into place before reaching for Harley. "Now come here, baby." She hooks her fingers gently around Harley's neck and leads her in for a deep kiss. The kiss is enjoyable and passionate, but Harley still can't help sighing against her faux lips and wondering what it would be like to really kiss Ivy. It would probably kill her, she knows, but oh, what a way to go!
The End
When Thievery's The Only Way To Go, posted 1-21-13, rated K/G
Characters: Bruce/Selina, Alfred
Sometimes, thievery is the only way to go.
He strokes his ward's head, no longer able to stop the tears that he'd trained himself years ago not to allow to fall in front of him to weep down his wrinkled face or keep his thoughts at bay. This should be him fading away in this bed, not the man who, he can admit now, at last, is the closest thing he'll ever know to a son. "Alfred," Bruce's voice is still strong as he suddenly reaches out and grasps the hand of the person who's always been much more to him than his butler.
He was his best friend when he was a child and became his surrogate parent when his real parents were killed. Bruce blinks bleary eyes around his bedroom. There's not a single spot in his room that's not covered with flowers of all kinds, greeting cards in all sizes, and even bat-shaped balloons. He smiles weakly at the balloons, but his eyes are still sad. They've come, but they've also gone. Alfred is the only one who's been with him since he fell prey to the newest disease to hit the streets of Gotham.
"Please, Bruce," Alfred's all but begging now, "I truly do think you should consider hospitalization. They could do so much more for you there than I can here."
"No." His denial is as strong and heated as always. "We've been through this, Alfred. They have nothing that can help me there. There are only three antidotes to this virus in the entire world."
"But, Master Bruce, surely there is something they can - "
"No."
Alfred sighs and lowers his head in silent submission. He knows Bruce's hand on his is meant to be comforting, but only one thing could comfort him now: If Master Bruce would only have the common sense to seek real help.
As though he can read his thoughts, Bruce adds, and subtly changes the subject, "I'm already receiving the best help I can get right now, Alfred. They're out there, aren't they, searching for the cure?"
"Yes."
"You should have woke me while they were here."
"They had the information, Master Bruce; you need your rest."
"I need to know they're doing right - "
Alfred squeezes his hand. "They are, Master Bruce. You trained them, did you not?" He takes his silence for agreement. "They should be here, I know, Master Bruce. This room should be full of people, but - "
"Don't start telling me I chase them away again, Alfred." His voice is so low it's almost a growl.
Alfred winces, starts to pull away, but changes his mind. He needs to know why the others didn't want him awakened. Perhaps, then, he can start to build the family life he both needs and deserves. His mouth is open to speak when a sultry voice cuts ahead of him. "He's right, you know. You chase away people like a dog barking at a cat who's lost her claws. Lucky for you this cat never loses hers."
Both men look up, surprised, as Selina Kyle sashays into the room. Her every move exudes the feral, feline grace she employs in battle, but she's not in costume now. She's wearing a simple, leopard dress instead and holding a vial in her hands. Alfred's eyes widen with hope. She nods, and he moves away, allowing her access to the man whom they both love more than anybody else in the world.
Bruce's thin lips are caught between a grim line and a smile with just a twinge of pride. "You found it."
"Something like that," Selina says, checking the wires plunging into his body which is skinnier than he's ever seen it. Alfred told the others that Bruce hasn't been this skinny since he first started training to become Batman.
His eyes darken. "You stole it," Bruce announces.
Selina doesn't try to deny the fact as she plunges the vial's needle into his arm. Everybody in the room knows she would have done whatever it took to save him. He closes his eyes as the serum begins to take effect. Her catlike, green eyes watch desperately for some sign that the medicine is working, but his body remains still and deathly pale.
She looks up, and Alfred sees the unspoken fear in her eyes. He doesn't speak but does come near again and checks Bruce's heart rate. He wants to weep with joy, pray in thanks, and shout in celebration, but he does none of those things. Instead, he looks at the woman who he knows should be the new lady of Wayne Manor and tells her, with a small smile, "It's working, Miss Kyle."
Selina closes her eyes; Alfred bares witness to the single tear that traces her cheek before she wipes it away. Her eyes are hard and unreadable again when she reopens them. She leans forward over Bruce and kisses his forehead. "Catch me when you're better," she purrs to him, but then, as he had earlier with Alfred's hand, Bruce uses all his remaining strength to grasp her hand.
She looks at him in surprise. "You're not taking me in in your state." Her words are low but too full of surprise to be her usual angry hiss they are normally when he turns the tables on her.
"Master Bruce," Alfred speaks out of line, surprising all three of them, "there are things more important than catching thieves. Perhaps there are even some acceptable reasons for stealing, like saving your own life."
Bruce grins at them both. For once, he's determined to let Batman rest. "I didn't say I was arresting her." His tired, blue eyes focus on Selina. "I was just going to ask you to stay."
Selina's bright smile curves her ruby red lips and fills her beautiful face. She purrs while leaning down and kissing him again. Alfred notes the foot raised behind her and likens it unto a feline waving her tail in pleasure. "Happily," Selina answers and settles in beside him.
"I shall call the others," Alfred announces, straightening and smiling broadly at them both, "and then set to cooking. I'm quite certain every one will be hungry, including yourself, Master Bruce, and besides, this is surely an event worth celebrating!"
Bruce isn't sure if his butler's referring to his recovery or his acceptance of Selina's thievery, even if it will only last until he's well, but he says nothing. He still feels too weak to speak much, but his smile speaks volumes as he continues gazing up into Selina's beautiful, emerald orbs. He almost feels jilted when she looks away from him for a moment.
"Hey, Al," Selina calls, grinning, "got any catnip?"
Alfred nods respectfully as his smiles grows. "I shall see that we do, Miss Kyle," he promises and shuts the door on them, hoping that, at long last, his beloved Master might just have found a reason why he shouldn't dominate everybody in his life.
The End
