Chapter 2 - Bad
Fifteen minutes earlier
Bruce felt relieved to be leaving Gotham's busy downtown and heading towards his quiet manor. Unlike the last weekend, most of the major villains were tucked away in Arkham. No one had heard from Riddler in few weeks, but Edward had lain low for the most part after being released from Arkham four months ago. Batman had tracked him all the way to a dirty apartment, but Riddler seemed to be just hanging out and making money through online computer stuff and not causing any real trouble.
Batman felt sure that Riddler was doing something illegal like hacking or internet scams, but as long as Riddler stayed off the streets, Batman did not feel overly compelled to confront him and demand to know what was going; Riddler would be all up in arms about his right to privacy and most likely would retaliate by setting up some complex trap to make Batman figure out a riddle. That was all good and fine on a day with not much to do, but now Bruce wanted to get home because Clark would be coming soon.
He pulled his car in the garage beside his other nice cars, killed the engine, and started for the house.
For all his thinking and analyzing, Bruce could not begin to comprehend his relationship with Clark. From that first kiss, it all felt right, but Bruce constantly found that he had to change everything about himself just to suit Clark. Normally, Bruce went for days with little talk; Clark insisted that he open up more and made a point of calling on the phone everyday to engage Bruce in conversation.
Clark wanted him to talk more to the kids as well. Tim had been shocked when Bruce came into his room one night and started asking how he was doing in school, did he have any new friends, did he miss his dad, and was he feeling too much pressure. When Bruce had called Dick just to talk, Dick had freaked out and demanded to know if Bruce was sick or dying or if something had happened to Tim because, in Dick's words, "You never call me until something awful happens, you miserable cold bastard."
That had started an argument on the phone that Clark had to step in and stop before Bruce could do as he threatened and go to Bludhaven to "straighten out your sorry ass, you ungrateful, long-haired punk."
Clark also wanted him spend more time resting and recovering from fights. Bruce understood that he was human and Clark was not so Clark could not possibly know what a human body felt like, but dang it all, Bruce wasn't some delicate flower. He could go without food and sleep for days; he could run miles without getting winded; he could pump over 500 pounds of iron. He was all about pushing his limits and training his body, and he did not like that fact that Clark was so much stronger without even trying and could effortlessly toss him over his shoulder if he wanted while Bruce pushed against that iron shoulder and back in vain.
Clark also had limits about the time they spent on patrol. Bruce saw nothing wrong with going out as soon as it got dark and staying out until the dawn light began to glow in the far eastern sky. Clark insisted that they only go out for five hours at a time and he was big about Bruce taking water and food with him and making sure Bruce got sleep later.
And the very worst thing about their relationship was that fact that Bruce did not really have a choice. Because Clark was so strong, he got to have things his way, and he did not hesitate to put his foot down when he felt that Bruce was out of line. So maddeningly frustrating and unreasonable and just annoying in Bruce's point of view. In their bedroom life, they never used words like top or bottom though Clark was scared to death that he would hurt Bruce and usually went along with whatever Bruce wanted to do in bed. But in the rest of their relationship, Clark made it crystal clear that he was the one in charge because, as he charmingly put it, "If I let you do things your way, Bruce, we'd never talk, spend no quality time together, and I'd always be patching you up from unnecessary fights."
So Clark got to be in charge, even in Bruce's own home. Bruce had hoped Alfred would resent Clark trying to take over, but the trusty butler seemed glad and commented that he was having to buy fewer medical supplies because Batman did not get as injured as much as he used to.
"Worthless old man," Bruce growled as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.
Clark did not like the Batman growl, either. When Bruce got upset, he tended to resort to that growl as it usually made people shape up and do what he wanted, but Clark would look right at him and say that he did not like being growling at and that Bruce would have to talk normally if he wanted to keep talking to his boyfriend. As turning his back on Clark was not an option, Bruce had to force himself to talk in a normal voice which he felt was unfair because he often slipped into the growl without even realizing it.
Planning to change into more comfortable clothes before heading down to the Cave, Bruce opened his bedroom and stopped short. He was not alone.
Leaning against the end of his king-sized bed, Selina Kyle stood in a beautiful black dress and stared at him with velvety eyes.
"Selina?" Bruce managed to say, completely stunned.
"Hello, Batman," she smiled, her red lips twitching up in a warm smile.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
"I'm Catwoman," she answered. "No locked door stops me."
"What do you want?" Bruce watched her carefully, wondering what was going on. Selina had known about his secret identity for several years now as he knew about hers, but with her showing up unexpected, Bruce was half-suspecting that someone else would jump out to knock him unconscious or shoot him with sleeping darts.
"I just wanted to see you – where's the crime in that?" Selina stepped towards him. "I miss you, and I wanted to see you again, touch you once more."
"I'm with Clark now," Bruce protested. "You know that."
"Ugh, that blue and red boy scout?" Selina sneered. "Always smiling, always happy, always wanting to make things better. How can you stand being around him?"
"Clark and I are together and that's it."
"Well, before Mr. Proud America came to town, you belonged to me," Selina snapped.
"I never belonged to you," Bruce shook his head. "Yes, we dated and we did other things –"
"So modest," Selina scoffed. "Don't get all prudish on me. We once spend an entire day naked in the Cave together – we had sex in the Batmobile twenty-nine times!"
"Hey, I was going to ask you to marry me," Bruce pointed out, his voice deepening. "But you wouldn't stop being Catwoman, and I knew if I married you, I would spend the rest of my life returning everything you stole. So I'm with Clark now, and we do fine together because neither of us are egocentric kleptomaniacs."
"Ooh, listen to you and the big words," Selina taunted. "You must turn farm boy's head right around with your fancy city talk."
"Clark's a reporter at a very prestigious newspaper," Bruce suddenly felt defensive. He was not sure how Selina found out about Clark being Superman, but he did not like her trash-talking him. "And he went to college and he reads more than anyone else I know."
"Whoa, defensive much?" Selina put her hands up. She came a bit closer. "Don't fight with me, Bruce, please. Be nice."
Bruce swallowed hard. The closer she got, the more he could smell her perfume and see the different shades of green in her eyes. She was devastatingly beautiful in a very dark way.
He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. His big hands fit around his slim waist just right, and she would move up against his body and raise herself up on tiptoes to place her lips against his. He had to control himself.
"Selina, don't," he meant the words to be strong and commanding, but they came out too breathy and anguished as he fought against his attraction for her.
Her eyes lit up with eagerness as she stepped closer. "Just one more time, Bruce. Clark will never have to know."
"Yes, he will. He's going to be here by seven. He'll know and it's not fair to him. I'm not cheating on Clark, not even with you – he deserves better than that."
"Yes, Clark is good," Selina agreed. "So very good. But you and me, we're bad. We're bad, so bad. Don't you want to be with a bad girl again, Bruce?"
He groaned, but she had reached him and she flung her arms around him. She was kissing him a second later with warm, wet lips. He knew he should push her away – he loved Clark and Clark loved him, but Selina was so different. She was bad – a vicious, awful sort of bad, and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to be bad with her.
"So bad," Selina said into his mouth. "So wicked, you and me."
He groaned again and reached down to grope her waist and rear before digging his hands in her dark hair. She had her hands all over his broad shoulders, pressing her sharp nails into his skin. So very bad together.
And then Bruce heard Clark land on the balcony just outside his bedroom.
"He's here!" Bruce thrust Selina away as he looked around in desperation. Grabbing her in one iron hand, he dragged her to the small closet, opened the door, and pushed her inside.
"Hey!" she protested as she fell to floor, but he closed the closet door and ordered,
"Shut up, woman!"
And then Bruce turned just in time to see Clark coming in the balcony door, a pleasant smile on his boyfriend's face.
Bruce felt relieved to be leaving Gotham's busy downtown and heading towards his quiet manor. Unlike the last weekend, most of the major villains were tucked away in Arkham. No one had heard from Riddler in few weeks, but Edward had lain low for the most part after being released from Arkham four months ago. Batman had tracked him all the way to a dirty apartment, but Riddler seemed to be just hanging out and making money through online computer stuff and not causing any real trouble.
Batman felt sure that Riddler was doing something illegal like hacking or internet scams, but as long as Riddler stayed off the streets, Batman did not feel overly compelled to confront him and demand to know what was going; Riddler would be all up in arms about his right to privacy and most likely would retaliate by setting up some complex trap to make Batman figure out a riddle. That was all good and fine on a day with not much to do, but now Bruce wanted to get home because Clark would be coming soon.
He pulled his car in the garage beside his other nice cars, killed the engine, and started for the house.
For all his thinking and analyzing, Bruce could not begin to comprehend his relationship with Clark. From that first kiss, it all felt right, but Bruce constantly found that he had to change everything about himself just to suit Clark. Normally, Bruce went for days with little talk; Clark insisted that he open up more and made a point of calling on the phone everyday to engage Bruce in conversation.
Clark wanted him to talk more to the kids as well. Tim had been shocked when Bruce came into his room one night and started asking how he was doing in school, did he have any new friends, did he miss his dad, and was he feeling too much pressure. When Bruce had called Dick just to talk, Dick had freaked out and demanded to know if Bruce was sick or dying or if something had happened to Tim because, in Dick's words, "You never call me until something awful happens, you miserable cold bastard."
That had started an argument on the phone that Clark had to step in and stop before Bruce could do as he threatened and go to Bludhaven to "straighten out your sorry ass, you ungrateful, long-haired punk."
Clark also wanted him spend more time resting and recovering from fights. Bruce understood that he was human and Clark was not so Clark could not possibly know what a human body felt like, but dang it all, Bruce wasn't some delicate flower. He could go without food and sleep for days; he could run miles without getting winded; he could pump over 500 pounds of iron. He was all about pushing his limits and training his body, and he did not like that fact that Clark was so much stronger without even trying and could effortlessly toss him over his shoulder if he wanted while Bruce pushed against that iron shoulder and back in vain.
Clark also had limits about the time they spent on patrol. Bruce saw nothing wrong with going out as soon as it got dark and staying out until the dawn light began to glow in the far eastern sky. Clark insisted that they only go out for five hours at a time and he was big about Bruce taking water and food with him and making sure Bruce got sleep later.
And the very worst thing about their relationship was that fact that Bruce did not really have a choice. Because Clark was so strong, he got to have things his way, and he did not hesitate to put his foot down when he felt that Bruce was out of line. So maddeningly frustrating and unreasonable and just annoying in Bruce's point of view. In their bedroom life, they never used words like top or bottom though Clark was scared to death that he would hurt Bruce and usually went along with whatever Bruce wanted to do in bed. But in the rest of their relationship, Clark made it crystal clear that he was the one in charge because, as he charmingly put it, "If I let you do things your way, Bruce, we'd never talk, spend no quality time together, and I'd always be patching you up from unnecessary fights."
So Clark got to be in charge, even in Bruce's own home. Bruce had hoped Alfred would resent Clark trying to take over, but the trusty butler seemed glad and commented that he was having to buy fewer medical supplies because Batman did not get as injured as much as he used to.
"Worthless old man," Bruce growled as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.
Clark did not like the Batman growl, either. When Bruce got upset, he tended to resort to that growl as it usually made people shape up and do what he wanted, but Clark would look right at him and say that he did not like being growling at and that Bruce would have to talk normally if he wanted to keep talking to his boyfriend. As turning his back on Clark was not an option, Bruce had to force himself to talk in a normal voice which he felt was unfair because he often slipped into the growl without even realizing it.
Planning to change into more comfortable clothes before heading down to the Cave, Bruce opened his bedroom and stopped short. He was not alone.
Leaning against the end of his king-sized bed, Selina Kyle stood in a beautiful black dress and stared at him with velvety eyes.
"Selina?" Bruce managed to say, completely stunned.
"Hello, Batman," she smiled, her red lips twitching up in a warm smile.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
"I'm Catwoman," she answered. "No locked door stops me."
"What do you want?" Bruce watched her carefully, wondering what was going on. Selina had known about his secret identity for several years now as he knew about hers, but with her showing up unexpected, Bruce was half-suspecting that someone else would jump out to knock him unconscious or shoot him with sleeping darts.
"I just wanted to see you – where's the crime in that?" Selina stepped towards him. "I miss you, and I wanted to see you again, touch you once more."
"I'm with Clark now," Bruce protested. "You know that."
"Ugh, that blue and red boy scout?" Selina sneered. "Always smiling, always happy, always wanting to make things better. How can you stand being around him?"
"Clark and I are together and that's it."
"Well, before Mr. Proud America came to town, you belonged to me," Selina snapped.
"I never belonged to you," Bruce shook his head. "Yes, we dated and we did other things –"
"So modest," Selina scoffed. "Don't get all prudish on me. We once spend an entire day naked in the Cave together – we had sex in the Batmobile twenty-nine times!"
"Hey, I was going to ask you to marry me," Bruce pointed out, his voice deepening. "But you wouldn't stop being Catwoman, and I knew if I married you, I would spend the rest of my life returning everything you stole. So I'm with Clark now, and we do fine together because neither of us are egocentric kleptomaniacs."
"Ooh, listen to you and the big words," Selina taunted. "You must turn farm boy's head right around with your fancy city talk."
"Clark's a reporter at a very prestigious newspaper," Bruce suddenly felt defensive. He was not sure how Selina found out about Clark being Superman, but he did not like her trash-talking him. "And he went to college and he reads more than anyone else I know."
"Whoa, defensive much?" Selina put her hands up. She came a bit closer. "Don't fight with me, Bruce, please. Be nice."
Bruce swallowed hard. The closer she got, the more he could smell her perfume and see the different shades of green in her eyes. She was devastatingly beautiful in a very dark way.
He clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. His big hands fit around his slim waist just right, and she would move up against his body and raise herself up on tiptoes to place her lips against his. He had to control himself.
"Selina, don't," he meant the words to be strong and commanding, but they came out too breathy and anguished as he fought against his attraction for her.
Her eyes lit up with eagerness as she stepped closer. "Just one more time, Bruce. Clark will never have to know."
"Yes, he will. He's going to be here by seven. He'll know and it's not fair to him. I'm not cheating on Clark, not even with you – he deserves better than that."
"Yes, Clark is good," Selina agreed. "So very good. But you and me, we're bad. We're bad, so bad. Don't you want to be with a bad girl again, Bruce?"
He groaned, but she had reached him and she flung her arms around him. She was kissing him a second later with warm, wet lips. He knew he should push her away – he loved Clark and Clark loved him, but Selina was so different. She was bad – a vicious, awful sort of bad, and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to be bad with her.
"So bad," Selina said into his mouth. "So wicked, you and me."
He groaned again and reached down to grope her waist and rear before digging his hands in her dark hair. She had her hands all over his broad shoulders, pressing her sharp nails into his skin. So very bad together.
And then Bruce heard Clark land on the balcony just outside his bedroom.
"He's here!" Bruce thrust Selina away as he looked around in desperation. Grabbing her in one iron hand, he dragged her to the small closet, opened the door, and pushed her inside.
"Hey!" she protested as she fell to floor, but he closed the closet door and ordered,
"Shut up, woman!"
And then Bruce turned just in time to see Clark coming in the balcony door, a pleasant smile on his boyfriend's face.