Black Velvet

My second non-Warcraft story, and a bit more wholesome than usual. Not sure how I feel about this one tbh. Tried for a different style but I hope you all can enjoy my interpretation of these characters. At the very least I hope it's better than Selina's current catastrophe of a run :^)

For reference, I imagine both Bruce and Selina in this as a sort of cross between their BTAS and Arkham series renditions.

***

A full moon idled in the black sky above Gotham, partially obscured by a thin curtain of clouds that drifted lazily across their heavenly canvas. Its pale light pierced through the city's twisted shadows, revealing a tableau of Gotham City's unruly nightlife, bustling and bursting at the seams of the city's greystone walls. Thousands of acres of stone and concrete breathed with the life of its inhabitants, tall, towering, shining with lights of varihued neon and orange incandescence above shops, around walls, and within homes. Below, the streets glimmered with headlights, twinkling like an urban sea of stars, and a fine dusting of snow painted the city arctic white.

The date was December 3rd, and it was late. A quarter past three to be precise. He had been camped out since the top of the hour, binoculars in hand as he watched over Selina's apartment from a nearby rooftop. It was more of a customary precaution built up through hundreds of hours of stake outs rather than a necessary one, although there was the awkward possibility that she had company, in which case he would have to come back in the morning. The thought made his jaw set, but she appeared to be alone albeit for a number of cats sharing the flat with her. In this manner she was like him, a loner that socialized largely out of necessity rather than the simple joy of keeping company and holding conversation. He did it primarily to maintain his public image, she did it for information. Information that sometimes helped him, and at other times led to him chasing her across rooftops.

Selina walked out of view towards an area that he knew was the kitchen, her slippered feet gliding across the hardwood floor of her luxury apartment. Cats tailed her like a procession, hopeful and no doubt mewling hungrily. She was too good to them; he had told her so in the past--delicately of course, for felines were her domain--but she refused to listen. Catwoman would not be told how to take care of her cats, not even by him.

Bruce pocketed his binoculars, lips twitching in what may have been the slightest of smiles. He had surveyed her long enough, and besides, it had begun to snow again.

He stood up, reached for a tool on his belt, and then jumped.

***

Flames of orange and yellow undulated within a faux fireplace beneath a glaring TV set upon the wall. It reflected black and white images of a movie she had forgotten from a time she wasn't born, and a number of cats, furry and sleek, dozed around the harmless fire like newborn kittens. The air smelled of balsam and cedar wafting from two burning candles, one in the kitchen, and the other upon a table between the sofa and fireplace. Dim lights, soft and soothing, illuminated the chilly apartment in a cozy glow that almost made Selina wish she had hot chocolate instead of ice cream.

"No. This isn't for you, Hecate."

Selina shooed the dark furred cat away with a smile and then sat down upon the sofa, cuddling into a blanket and cradling a bowl of mint chip ice cream in her lap. It was Saturday. A day like any other--barring the stunt she had pulled earlier, though that had technically been on Friday--and now it was time to unwind while she still could. Jabbing at a creamy mound of mint and chocolate with her spoon, she raised it to her lips.

A sharp click sounded to the far right. Her hand froze and then half a moment later she was up, the bowl of ice and cream deposited upon a three-legged table at the side of the couch.

Normally, she would have reached for her whip, or at least for the door if confronted with enough guns, but the shadowed figure outside her window raised no call for alarm. At least, not the usual kind. The motion-activated lights she had installed on the balcony woke up, buzzing and flickering as if straining, and then revealed her impromptu guest. Tall, brooding, imposing like a force of nature.

He stepped inside and she smiled like the cat that got the canary, head raised, arms crossed and weight shifting to one eye-catching hip.

Selina was small, pale and poised, with piercing green eyes, sleek black hair that was short by women's standards, and a graceful elegance that betokened her alter ego more than any catsuit ever could. She was dressed for home comfort in a long grey cardigan that nearly touched the ground, knitted and with cuffed sleeves. Open at the chest, it exposed a modest yet tantalizing cropped bralette of the same color with a deep, plunging neckline. Equally grey joggers, loose and comfortable, kept her slender legs hidden from Bruce's searching gaze. In comparison to her usual feline uniforms of leather and latex her current attire was conservative, but appealing all the same. It hinted at what lay beneath: sultry curves that the man before her was intimately familiar with.

The two observed each other for a handful of seconds that seemed to stretch into an eternity, her smile remaining all the while. Though she could not properly see his face, Selina was well aware of what kind of effect she had on both men and women. It was something she used to her advantage, extracting information with a loosened zipper, batting of lashes or a honeyed word dripping with a delightful promise that she had no intention of fulfilling.

She had learned early on that the Batman was little different, and though he did try to resist her charms, that had, ironically, only served to further increase her interest in him. No one resisted her, but this man did--this contradiction of a Caped Crusader fighting for justice and order who nevertheless allowed her to escape his long arm of the law with nothing more than a harsh scolding--and so for the first time she flirted not for information that could lead to a successful heist or to get out of a parking ticket, but for him.

Truthfully, she had had little interest in anything but cats, jewels, or, more keenly, the pure Thrill of running roofs and swindling purses. She was young, talented and free; men didn't interest her, women just barely more than that. Like her stolen diamonds, pendants and artifacts, Batman had been just another heist--her biggest yet, but a heist nonetheless.

This viewpoint of hers hadn't taken long to change, however. A few stolen kisses and a steamy night atop a roof later, and their relationship had become something that could no longer be ignored or dismissed as a frivolity. There was a new Thrill now, wrestling with and seeking to overpower the other more criminal Thrill it shared her with.

Selina sniffed and then broke the silence between them, her voice confident with a natural sultriness that needed no practice.

"Well, if it isn't my Dark Knight in bulletproof armor." Self-consciously, she adjusted her hair and stepped towards him. "Hello, Bat."

"Selina."

Oh boy. She knew that tone of voice. It was similar to the tone he used when addressing criminals he was seeking to pry information out of. It lacked some of the bite though. That made her feel good, proud even. She was Selina Kyle after all, not some ordinary criminal, or the Joker, or the Penguin, or some other psychopath.

Still...

She pursed her lips and turned around.

"What a pleasant surprise," she continued, fetching her bowl of ice cream off the table.

"Is it?"

"Of course. You know how much I enjoy your company, Bruce." Turning back towards him, she flashed him a genuine smile and devoured a spoonful of ice cream, dabbing at her lips with a finger to ensure they were clean in case she had to use them. Hopefully she would.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" he asked. Skeptical. Accusatory.

She quirked an eyebrow at him and shook her head as she spoke: "Avoiding you? Bruce Wayne, just because I leave town for a week--technically less, mind you--does not mean that I am avoiding you."

She took another spoonful of ice cream, another dab at her lips.

"Hell, you can at least try to call me. You never even respond to my texts," she continued, taking a step towards him.

"All you do is send me pictures of cats, Selina." His tone had softened some, and she took this as a win.

"So? Does that mean you want more selfies then?" She grinned and placed her hand upon his arm, finger-walking it up to his bicep. "With or without my costume on?"

"Cat..."

"All right, I'll stop teasing you." For a minute or two, anyway.

She turned away and set the bowl of ice cream down; there were only a couple spoonfuls left. Reaching into her pocket, she dug out her phone and leaned over the couch. A soft click, and the light upon a nearby speaker device lit up.

"Now that you're here, why don't we have some fun? It's been awhile." She shot him a pleasant smile and tapped at her phone. The lights on the speaker scintillated, coming alive as Laura Branigan's "Self Control" began to play.

"I don't think so," he answered.

"You're right, this one doesn't quite fit my mood."

Selina nodded her head from side to side and swiped a black-nailed finger across her phone, searching for a new song to play.

"Selina."

"Yes, dear?" she said, not looking up.

"The keys."

"Hmm... I was thinking ABBA. How about 'Angeleyes'?"

Bruce sighed--or growled, she couldn't tell exactly--which prompted her to glance sideways at him.

"What crawled up your cape?" she asked, deciding instead upon ABBA's "Voulez-Vous" and then pocketing her phone. The music was loud, so she fished out her phone again and turned the volume down before returning it to her pocket.

"I think you know." His voice rumbled like stone and she had to refrain from biting her lip.

Did she know? Probably. Most likely.

Yes, of course she knew.

"Can't say that I do." Selina lowered her chin and cocked her head, allowing one of her dark bangs to fall loose over her brow. A coy smile adorned her beautiful face and her green eyes glowed impishly. She had used this look on him many times before, usually to resounding success. "Why don't you fill me in, lover?"

Though she couldn't see his eyes through his mask, Bruce nevertheless met her gaze. He stood like a statue--no, like a man in charge. A man with the intensity of a storm that would barrel you over with ease and then, oddly enough, help you back up. To most, he was intimidating. But she knew better, and she could detect a faint uncertainty in his mannerism that wasn't usually there.

"You stole my car."

She sniffed and looked away, repressing a smirk.

"Oh. That. I was just borrowing it, you know how it is."

"Without permission. That's stealing, Selina. From me."

It wasn't the first time she had stolen the Batmobile and she doubted it would be the last. She did it for the thrill of it and, admittedly, sometimes for attention. The latter reasoning may or may not have been why she had done it this time.

"And I always return it," she continued, retrieving his keys from her other pocket and proffering them to him. Except for that one time I blew it up.

After a brief staring contest, he reached out and grabbed them, depositing them within a compartment in his belt. If she was anyone else he would have arrested her, but for a moment he just looked at her, his expression stern while hers was playfully innocent. The average person would probably be sweating bullets under his piercing gaze, but Selina just stood there, cool and calm, without a care in the world, her lips curved upwards in a faint yet sly smile. Finally, he spoke.

"How did you get past the electrical locks?"

"A thief never reveals her secrets," Selina replied, her eyes sparkling with a knowing amusement. "But you're not really interested in that, are you, Bat?" She took a step towards him, and then another and another, until her chest was pressed against him. Standing on her tiptoes and draping her arms around his neck so as to pull herself upwards, she whispered into his ear, her voice a husky purr. "You don't need an excuse to stay here, lover. If you want to stay, stay."

"I don't--" he began, but was silenced by the touch of a finger against his lips.

She pulled away from him then, turning and moving further into the apartment, her hips swaying enticingly. "Close the window, would you? It's cold outside."

***

The window slammed shut behind her. She kept walking, not bothering to check whether Bruce had left. It was part of the game, but she was glad when she heard the sound of curtains being drawn together and then his footsteps behind her. Her heart sped up in her chest. She had him.

"You want anything?" she asked, half-turning to face him. "I've got ice cream."

"No thanks," he replied, peeling back his cowl and giving her an odd look. She certainly found him appealing with the cowl on, but without it... well, appealing didn't quite describe it well enough.

"What? There's chocolate in the freezer. I know you like chocolate."

"Not now."

"Oh, I see. You want to get straight to business then, hm?"

She crossed the gap between them and pressed her hands against the bat symbol on his chest, leaning into him on her toes. In his boots he was only a few inches shy of towering over her by a full foot, and the difference in height made her giddy. His gaze, however, made her mouth draw to a line.

"What?"

He was looking to the side, into her bedroom, rather than at her.

"I was just checking to see if anyone else was here," he replied, finally directing his gaze down at her.

Selina's eyebrows rose and her eyes widened in shock. She made a noise of mock indignation, but an amused grin tugged at her open mouth, revealing a row of white teeth. "Excuse me, Bruce Wayne? Who exactly are you expecting to find?"

He shrugged.

"Better safe than sorry." His tone was near neutral, but there was a hint of humor in it and his mouth curved ever so slightly upwards.

"Right, very funny." She laughed, and his smile grew.

An oppressive silence overtook them, aided by a veil of tension. Selina's grin faded, but her lips remained parted in a coy expression as Bruce's hand found purchase on her lower back. Briefly, her eyes drifted downwards and then back up to him, half-lidded behind long lashes. He pulled her closer and she went along with it, allowing him to lift her chin and lean down for a kiss.

His lips were soft, his touch gentle, and she couldn't help but draw into him, snaking a hand over his shoulder while her other hand grasped at his chest. She reciprocated the kiss with a wholehearted eagerness, rifling her fingers through his fine hair and drinking in his sweetness. They doted on each other, loving and sensual, exchanging light kisses that gradually grew to something more.

The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips then swept into her mouth. A spark caught fire inside her, prompting her to return the gesture, matching his open-mouthed kisses and battling his tongue, consuming him, consuming her. Hot and hungry, their lips crashed together, a desperate yearning turning the air humid. She needed him. Badly. More than she had known when he stepped in through the balcony window, and it was all rising up now, making her feel explosive.

He pulled her closer and she nipped him, playfully, dragging her teeth along his chin and down to the exposed part of his neck, marking him as hers. He rumbled like thunder and she whimpered, gasping as he yanked her by the hair to face him. His forehead met hers and they locked eyes, her bright greens gleaming with a defiance that he knew she wanted him to ruin. Still holding her by the hair, he kissed at her temple, tracing his lips down to her ear.

"Is this what you wanted? Is this why you stole the Batmobile?"

Selina swallowed, every nerve tingling with excitement.

"Figure it out, detective."

His leg slipped between hers, his knee nudging against her sex, damp beneath her garments, and her eyes widened, her breath catching as he thrummed a note into her ear. It took all that she had not to grind against that knee. Instead, she forced her lips back against his, clawing at his chest and trying to maintain some semblance of control, hard as it was.

Gasping. Wet and sloppy, their passion was anything but silent, and Selina stifled a giggle as she pulled at his bottom lip, her eyes meeting his and her hands clutching at his body. She leaned in for another kiss and then suddenly froze, her eyes dropping to his chest.

The hand on his chest moved with purpose now and her voice became like that of a mother who had just discovered a bloody scrape on her child's knee.

"There's a bullet hole in your suit." She frowned. "Two of them."

"It's nothing serious."

"You'd say that even if these holes were in you rather than in this suit," she said, tapping her knuckles against him and giving him a stern look.

"One hole? Maybe. Two? Not a chance."

Selina raised an eyebrow but Bruce just peered back at her, a twinkle in his eyes. He could be so infuriatingly, insufferably handsome, capable of disarming her with an unpracticed glance.

"So?" she finally asked, drawing circles around one of the bullet holes with her finger. "Who was it this time?"

"Just some street thugs."

"Street thugs? Losing your touch, Bat?"

"I let them hit me."

Selina's lips twisted with repressed laughter.

"Now Bruce, it's okay if you're getting slow in your old age..."

"I'm serious. Helps keep the legend of the Batman strong."

That made sense, she supposed.

"Hum. And did you give them the 'I'm Batman!' routine?"

"No. Should I have?"

Selina shrugged.

"Certainly riles me up."

"Shall I do it now then?"

"No!" she laughed and took him by the hand, pulling him towards her bedroom. "Come on you poor boy, let's get you out of that suit so I can inspect the damage."

Selina's room wasn't far, but their travel time was made longer by frequent stops to kiss and grope at one another, and by the time they made their way into the room her cardigan had lost its way upon the floor, followed shortly after by a bralette and pair of spiked black gloves.

They fell upon the bed, her atop him, and she grinned wickedly with the thought of what she was going to do to him. Deft fingers, slender and thin, worked at Bruce's belt, unlatching it and tossing it onto the nearby nightstand. Her hands were underneath his armored suit then, tracing along the firmness of his abdominal muscles like an object of worship.

"Mmm," Selina purred, sliding up his body and planting kisses upon his abs and then his mouth. "As good as your suit is at blocking bullets, Bat," she said, giving him another quick peck on the lips, "it's also good at blocking me."

Bruce moved to kiss her but she pulled away, exchanging grins as he took the hint and began to rid himself of the Batsuit. She quickly removed the remainder of her own garments, aided him with his boots and pants, and then was on him again, helping herself to his beautiful body. He was big. So big, with carved muscles that were no strangers to breaking bones. She on the other hand was small and fine, almost delicate in his arms, but he knew better. They had fought many times in the past, both together and against one another.

At a slender five feet seven inches tall she was tiny compared to him, but toned and capable with powerful yet feminine muscles of her own. Beneath the softness, these muscles did nothing to detract from her femininity, instead enhancing it, highlighting the contours of her body, the flatness of her stomach, the strength of her thighs and the unfair curves of her breasts and backside. Like a poem come to life, her skin pale porcelain, Selina was the hottest piece of ass in Gotham. Bruce knew it, Ivy knew it, Penguin knew it, the doorman that always flirted with her knew it, hell, Alfred probably knew it.