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(no subject)

WHO: The Bat & The Cat
WHERE: Bruce's apartment
WHEN: Valentine's Evening
SUMMARY: Bruce is full of surprises
WARNINGS: Who knows?
FORMAT: Whatev!

It was Valentine's Day and Selina didn't know exactly what that meant. Her first year here, Ivy had infected the water supply and she hadn't been able to look at Logan for a while. Last year, Tony Stark had scammed her into dinner and Guy Gardner had camped out on her doorstep.

This year... Bruce invited her over to share her intel on Isle Francis.

She wasn't sure whether to take that at face value or not. Old Bruce, there would have been less of a question. But this was New Bruce who apparently told the public he funded Batman and wasn't above fooling around on rooftops. So Selina just didn't know.

She dressed the part. Black sweater, red pencil skirt, sky high heels. An outfit as vague as the invitation's intent. And despite what she had told Carrie Kelly, she actually knocked on the front door this time.

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That he had invited her to his apartment and not the cave was the first tell. That he had forgone the usual stuffily pristine business suits and tuxedos for a casual shirt and pants was the second. He even had the sleeves rolled up, although there was a legitimate excuse for that. The rich aroma of something cooking permeates from within.

"Selina," he greeted, expression awkwardly set to neutral. "Come in."

"Bruce," she replied, mirroring his greeting with an added smile as she stepped inside. Same place, a little stark for her personal taste. And then the cooking smells reached her. It took a split second to process.

She quirked an eyebrow at him in a wordless question. Had he really?

Wayne Manor would be equally barren if not for the all of the family heirlooms. In truth, he hadn't spent enough time here to have had it furnished more homely even if he were the sort to do that.

He gave her one of those disarming Bruce Wayne smiles when he caught her reaction, skirting an arm around her waist so that he could steer in the direction of the kitchen and dining area. Unlike the Manor, where the two would likely be several rooms apart, the practicality of the place was growing on him.

Yes, he had. "Surprise."

Whereas Selina was a creature of comfort and had acquired plenty of trinkets (many legally) and gifts during her stay here. Not to mention cats.

"Very," she murmured. It was a touching gesture from one of the least domestic people she knew. She didn't even know he knew how to cook. In fact, she still wasn't sure, but for once she held her tongue and didn't ask. After the effort he seemed to be putting in, she could be a little polite. She simply let him guide her to the dining area and hoped Alfred had managed to teach him a thing or two.

Bruce had yet to encounter something that he couldn't succeed in, so he hadn't broached the culinary arts with much fear. He'd certainly tried but there was no telling what the end result would be.

He pulled out a chair for her and flitted over to check on a few things and returned with drinks. Ginger ale for him as per usual and an elaborate champagne cocktail for her. Brucie was an outlandish drinker so she needn't have worried about his ability to mix cocktails, at least.

"I thought you'd appreciate some R&R after your working vacation." Though he suspected she would have found time for something of the sort while she was there. "Which I'm still keen to hear about, incidentally."

Now that was expected. She sipped the drink; it was indeed quite good. "Frankly, it was pretty boring. Most everyone working there was on the level. Save the planet rah rah rah types. Found one guy who was making arrangements to smuggle out some of the native wildlife. Exotic pet trade." She smirked a bit. "Somehow, that correspondence ended up up forwarded to his boss. She took care of the rest."

Selina was glad to be back. The beauty of the place was undeniable, but roughing it for more than a few days wasn't much fun without company to serve as a distraction. Although she certainly wanted to head back sometime to visit the little tree cats she'd met.

"At least it was a boring success," he replied, and then soberly, "although I'm sure you already know Barbara's gone."

"I guessed, when my messages to her started bouncing back." She frowned a little. Her and Damian. In and out. She was utterly sick of it, not that she'd ever liked it. "At least Tim's back. With plenty of interesting news."

Them gone, and an influx of newcomers in their wake. If there was a logic or pattern, he wasn't seeing it. It was easier for him to concentrate on that than to admit to something greater.

"No doubt you have an opinion," he said, guardedly. He knew what she meant by 'interesting news'.

"Well, you might have finally gone off the deep end," she replied lightly, not meaning it as more than a joke. "The fact that you're cooking isn't exactly helping your case."

But as she'd told Tim, she'd seen plenty of good in the changes in him. They certainly weren't unwelcome.

"We can go out and hurt people if you'd rather," he groused mildly.

Bruce was perhaps less aware of the changes he had undergone of late. They could be passed off as necessary means to the latest mission because that was easiest. It was pragmatic. For someone so keenly analytical and scrutinising, he could rarely be considered self-aware.

"Maybe tomorrow night." Selina had no idea if he realized how different he was since he got back. And yet it was still him through and through. Just a better him, one she couldn't have even hoped for. She'd loved him for a long time, but she was a realist too. Didn't believe in trying to change people. That would leave her in the same boat as Harley.

But people did change. She was proof of that herself. And now, so was he. Odd and terrifying and comforting all at the same time. And knowing that this was from Gotham and not here, that it would be waiting back home... it was the only thing that made them working here bearable. They had a chance in Gotham too.

He looked at her languorously over the brim of his glass, oblivious to her evaluations, before sliding back his chair. He disappeared back over to the kitchen and returned moments later.

"To start," he said, laying down a platter of oysters. The menu was going to be fairly seafood heavy. If she didn't want to be typecast, she shouldn't have named herself Catwoman.

Selina wasn't actually a big fan of fish, aside from salmon. But shellfish wasn't bad. And she could humor him a bit.

"To start, hmm? Impressive." Still, she waited for him to take the first bite. Humoring him was one thing, food poisoning another.

He answered her expectant stare with a vague amusement and exasperation, as was fast becoming the norm. She would trust him to pull her out of the path of a bullet and not this? There wasn't much for him to do wrong with oysters short of storing them improperly.

"Would you rather I ordered take-out?" He asked, his pride only slightly bruised.

And now she'd hurt his feelings. Or something like it. Great.

So she took the first bite. And it was fine. She raised an eyebrow as if to ask him happy now.

Placated, perhaps. The truth of it was that this was way outside his comfort zone, let alone his area of expertise. And, well, he didn't like to lose. That never changed.

It didn't look like he'd poisoned her, at least, and he joins in soon after. The main event followed soon after - crab and salmon fishcakes and a well-chosen vintage to complement - and there was a chocolote mousse and coffee to finish.

He sat down finally and ran a finger around the ring of his coffee cup, containing an eagerness for her appraisal. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to know if he'd failed abysmally.

The truth was, it wasn't bad. Granted, it wouldn't be mistaken for the work of a professional chef. Far too technically made. But really, Selina mused, it would be a bit sad if the guy who could whip up Joker venom and fear gas antidotes couldn't at least follow a recipe.

She sipped her coffee, eating the chocolate mousse in delicate bites. "You really made everything yourself?" she asked him. The compliment in the question.

"Between you, me, and the hired help, I thought it might get a little crowded," he said wryly. "And you've already seen what happens when we try to dine out."

'A little croweded,' was too weak an expression for the latter.

There was the slightest frown at his mention of the ill-fated dinner. They still needed to discuss Helena at some point. A real discussion.

But this wasn't really the best time.

Instead, Selina gave him a little smile. "I wouldn't say Alfred's out of a job yet. But I think he'd be pretty impressed with you." She had to admit she was.

Naturally, they didn't want to become one of those couples who could only talk about their children on Valentine's.

Bruce sat forward conspiratorially, forearms resting against the table. "I'd prefer it if Alfred didn't find out about this. He'd say it's, 'about bloody time,' and warrant it as an excuse to take a vacation."

She had to laugh at that. "I think Alfred taking a vacation is even less likely than you taking one that isn't related to business somehow."

Of course, isn't that what she'd just done? Hell, she was getting to be as bad as the hero crowd.

And he wasn't about to let her forget it. "There's rather a lot of that going around at the moment."

"Very funny." But it really wasn't the night to get mad either.

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "Thanks for dinner, Bruce. It was lovely." She meant it.

"My pleasure," he replied, squeezing back. "It's not every day you return from out of town."

... meaning it was Valentine's Day and he loved her. But you didn't hear that from me.