Fic: Neither Here nor There (Gotham, Bruce/OFC, Bruce/Selina futurefic)
Title: Neither Here nor There
Author: shallowness
Fandom: Gotham
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Bruce Wayne/OFC, Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle
Summary: Bruce Wayne plans, Selina Kyle smirks.
Author's Note: Future fic. 2,247 words. Written after seeing season 4, but no major spoilers beyond season 1.
Neither Here nor There: shallowness
Bruce had bought the restaurant a long time ago because he felt guilty that the Batmobile had crashed into it. The crash had been unavoidable, the only way to ensure that the vehicle didn’t collide with three mind-controlled Gothamites, but the damage to the building was bad. The insurance company had got nasty, so when a Wayne subsidiary had come forward with an offer, the owners had taken it gratefully. Bruce had left instructions that the remaining staff were to be kept on and to be given a free rein with the place.
Bruce had dropped in at Alcoves once, incognito, when he was recovering from injuries, and found himself relaxing there, feeling at home. It had reminded him of the manor’s kitchen with Alfred, although the aesthetics were different, there was a down-to-earth feel about it. This seemed to appeal to Gotham’s diners too, and the number crunchers were happy to keep the place on the books.
When the time had come to find the right location, Bruce hadn’t wanted to go to one of Gotham’s more feted restaurants. For one thing, someone from Gotham’s high society would be there, and he and his girlfriend had always been the subject of their hawklike scrutiny. There were many restaurants with better views, where Gotham looked almost beautiful, its ugliness tucked away by clever architecture. There were restaurants with piano players who could be tipped to provide romantic music.
But Bruce - making the booking himself - had chosen Alcoves. He’d chosen the ring too, feeling an unexpected flutter of nerves at the store. He wouldn’t call it doubt, but he must have lost control of his expression, because the assistant had been almost motherly, helping him whittle down the selection to two.
As prompted, he’d thought about her hands, and could imagine her wearing only one of them.
Still, he hoped she’d like the ring he’d picked. He hoped she’d say ‘yes’. He wondered if his father had felt like this when he was about to propose to his mother, and very nearly visited his grave to ask.
They’d arranged to meet at the restaurant. It was busy, but Bruce had secured a relatively private alcove - the best table, because of its perfect distance from the kitchen. There were lit candles helping to create mood along with the inviting aroma of food.
He had turned up fifteen minutes early, and he was feeling like he was fifteen again.
Selina surprised him. He told himself it was because he was distracted, but he would occasionally worry if it was because the Cat had wanted to surprise him.
She looked stunning, wearing a simple, form-fitting black dress, no jewelry and subtle make-up, rightly confident that she herself was enough. The last time he had seen her, she’d had a mocking grin on her upside-down face as she flipped away from him.
“Aren’t you going to say ‘Hello,’ Bruce?” she asked. “I thought you had better manners than staring at me without anything to say.”
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.
“Table for two at eight, Mr Wayne. It’s not eight yet. She’ll be punctual, we have some time.” She slid herself into the seat opposite him.
Bruce didn’t even bother speculating how Selina knew his plans for the night. She knew, that was all.
“What do you want, Selina?” he asked. She usually wanted something, a quid pro quo, when they met out of their masks these days. He’d chosen Gotham, she’d chosen criminals, both of them desperately wanting loyalty from the other and only able to give it fitfully. Selina would always be his first love, but he’d long left his boyhood behind.
The fact that, as Catwoman, she was his usual partner, dancing on the rooftops of Gotham, complicated this, but Bruce had had to move on.
“What do you want, Bruce?” she countered.
It took a moment to form the answer, although the different elements of it came easily to mind. Elle - her generous smile; a future full of them; someone who was what Gotham could be - light - blazing sunlight he didn’t flinch from.
“To marry the woman I love,” he said steadily.
“Marriage? Oh, Bruce,” and the cynical note was there, the one she’d always carried from the streets to his manor. The one he’d only driven out of her voice occasionally, a long time ago. “Don’t you know, you’ve given yourself body and soul already? You can’t marry that poor woman.”
“You’re presuming too much about us, Selina,” he said, lashing out. He’d given her as much of his shattered heart as he could.
“Us?” she repeated. “I’m not talking about me, Brucie, although I’m pretty sure I know more of your secrets than your girlfriend ever will. Has she ever wondered why you always disappear when Gordon’s signal fills the night sky? She’s going to someday.”
Bruce stuck his jaw out. He didn’t like the fact that Alfred had said something similar instead of congratulating him when he’d announced that he planned to propose to Elle.
“Do you think you should be asking her to marry you when she doesn’t know about the Bat, Master Bruce?” Alfred had asked.
Bruce had said “Yes,” fiercely. Elle not knowing made her shine all the brighter to him. He wanted to protect her from the darkness he tried to keep at bay. He had plans in train to compartmentalize what he did.
“And one day she’ll realize Gotham had you first and she isn’t letting you go,” Selina said, levelling an old accusation at him, but making it sound like inescapable fact.
“You should leave,” Bruce said, wanting to shut her down, willing her words not to take hold as deeply as Alfred’s doubts had. He’d been relieved that the restaurant had made him wait nearly a month to get this table. It had taken that long to work through them, and repair his relationship with Alfred, who’d always seemed to like Elle.
“Yeah, I guess I should,” Selina said, rising. Automatically Bruce rose too, the years of training that a gentleman should always stand up for a lady kicking in, although usually when Selina was playing the lady, it was time to be wary.
She wasn’t quite playing the lady now, although she looked like one. Her eyes had a touch of remorse, and he remembered that he had loved her and, on some level, always would. In her own way, the same would be true for her, he supposed.
“Believe this or not,” she took a few steps toward him, “I want you to be happy.”
She had said something similar a few months ago, when he’d had to take a break from hunting Mr Freeze to chase after her, because she’d lifted a priceless Egyptian queen’s necklet, although then she’d talked about making sure he had some fun in his life.
“Elle makes me happy,” he told her bluntly.
Selina nodded, hiding her eyes with the movement, and embraced him. He let her, because of all the history they had. His hands took the familiar route to wrap around her lean body. The fragrance of her shampoo hit him and he closed his eyes for a second, but then let go.
It was nearly eight. Elle was coming.
“Goodbye, Selina,” he said.
She let go, not showing any embarrassment at being the one to hold on longest. Bruce steeled his mind against the memory of dozens of other embraces. It wasn’t safe. He was in love, but Selina was never going to be safe ground for him.
“Goodbye, Bruce. I’ll make sure he won’t have any reason to flip the signal on tonight.”
She sauntered out toward the kitchen door. Bruce watched it shut behind her, exhaled and then took his seat again, glancing at his watch. A minute to go. His hand reached for the box with the ring in it, and found his pocket empty.
“Selina,” he whispered, but she was long gone, out of the building, into her waiting getaway vehicle. He could sense it, and even as he made his calculations about chasing her down, he could see Elle being led towards him, looking vibrant in a red coat.
There was no way he could leave. He greeted her, uttering the lines the situation demanded, even though his heart was in his mouth.
It was an unsatisfying meal. Bruce never relaxed, his mind whirring away. He could have proposed, but he had no ring. He could have made a date to go to the most expensive jewelers the next morning - he was Bruce Wayne, he could have called and had the store open up especially for them that night, letting Elle pick her own ring, but he’d wanted to do this right. The question should have followed the reveal of the ring, gleaming on its velvet cushion, reflecting the candlelight.
The food was delicious, but Elle could tell that Bruce was uneasy. Some instinct had told her that this date was different, that this place was special, that after months of dating the most eligible bachelor in town, and finding out that under the veneer of practiced charm and the billionaire lifestyle was a man she liked, respected and wanted, he was going to ask for more. With her expectations baffled, old doubts and questions resurfaced, and when the waiter asked if they would like a coffee - having realized there was going to be no call for champagne - she said no and Bruce made no effort to change her mind.
Elle said she had a headache and called a cab instead of letting Bruce drive her home. She still mainly lived in her apartment. Bruce had respected her wish to be independent and sometimes felt relieved by it. There were other times when he’d almost asked her to move in with him. Of course, asking her to marry him would be to ask the same question in a different way, and he was ready for that. But he wanted to do it honorably, as he knew his father had.
He watched her slide into the cab. The taxi driver confirmed the address, and realized he’d picked up a crier.
Bruce tore through the streets of Gotham in his Lambourghini until he reached Selina’s latest pad. He found three cats there, staring at him with mildly curious eyes, but the place was otherwise empty, and he didn’t bother searching for the ring there. He made his way up to the roof, where Selina was looking out at the city. She’d changed into something closer to her Catwoman costume, a black sweater and close-fitting pants.
“I want my ring back,” he said.
“Oops, tossed it into the river,” she batted back.
He took a step forward.
“Oh, if you’re going to be all threatening, of course I didn’t. I’ve fenced it off,” her voice was cool as if to underscore that she knew he’d lost his temper because of her and what she’d done.
“No, you didn’t,” he snarled.
“Are you going to search me for it?” she asked, turning to face him properly. Like the dress she’d worn earlier, her clothes hugged her body perfectly. The moon was behind her, showing her off. Although the move and the voice had been seductive, both her hands were balled in fists.
“It’s over between us, Selina.”
“Liar. It’s never going to be over,” she said flatly. “I’m going to keep stealing things and you’re going to keep coming after me and insisting I give them back.”
“It’s an engagement ring in your right hand. An engagement ring I was going to give someone else.”
“Ah,” she said. “Except if you really wanted to get married, if you really wanted a woman to take you on, Bruce Wayne, all of you, you’d just ask her. The ring would be neither here nor there.”
“This from the woman who has single-handedly stolen more diamond rings in this city than any gang.”
She smirked, and it was that one expression that did it. Familiar, infuriating, utterly her. He propelled himself forward with the speed and intent of the Batman, but she reacted fast, and leapt toward him.
Her kiss was searing, possessive, and Bruce couldn’t help reacting in kind, as if the past few years didn’t matter, as if Elle and all the other women had been distractions, as if every masked encounter between them had been a form of foreplay. The box fell to the ground, the ring forgotten.
Selina moved back into Wayne Manor with the assurance of a cat that has decided on its home. She brought three cats with her but no diamond rings.
“If you could keep the cats out of the Batcave, I’d be grateful, Ms Kyle,” Alfred said.
“I can’t promise anything,” Selina said, and got a raised eyebrow in reply from the butler.
Eventually Bruce took her to the most expensive shop in Gotham, whispering, “Stop casing this place.”
“Their security is a joke,” she replied in the same tone before pointing to a huge rock and asking the attendant, “can I try that one?”
She picked a ring with a smaller stone eventually. It was still the kind of ring Bruce Wayne’s fiancé would wear. But he’d proposed to her the night before, while in the Bat costume, just after demanding how many lives she thought she had left.
“Enough,” she’d said. And much later, when she could speak again, she’d added, “Yes, I will marry you.”
This entry was originally posted at https://shallowness.dreamwidth.org/382099.html.
Author: shallowness
Fandom: Gotham
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Bruce Wayne/OFC, Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle
Summary: Bruce Wayne plans, Selina Kyle smirks.
Author's Note: Future fic. 2,247 words. Written after seeing season 4, but no major spoilers beyond season 1.
Neither Here nor There: shallowness
Bruce had bought the restaurant a long time ago because he felt guilty that the Batmobile had crashed into it. The crash had been unavoidable, the only way to ensure that the vehicle didn’t collide with three mind-controlled Gothamites, but the damage to the building was bad. The insurance company had got nasty, so when a Wayne subsidiary had come forward with an offer, the owners had taken it gratefully. Bruce had left instructions that the remaining staff were to be kept on and to be given a free rein with the place.
Bruce had dropped in at Alcoves once, incognito, when he was recovering from injuries, and found himself relaxing there, feeling at home. It had reminded him of the manor’s kitchen with Alfred, although the aesthetics were different, there was a down-to-earth feel about it. This seemed to appeal to Gotham’s diners too, and the number crunchers were happy to keep the place on the books.
When the time had come to find the right location, Bruce hadn’t wanted to go to one of Gotham’s more feted restaurants. For one thing, someone from Gotham’s high society would be there, and he and his girlfriend had always been the subject of their hawklike scrutiny. There were many restaurants with better views, where Gotham looked almost beautiful, its ugliness tucked away by clever architecture. There were restaurants with piano players who could be tipped to provide romantic music.
But Bruce - making the booking himself - had chosen Alcoves. He’d chosen the ring too, feeling an unexpected flutter of nerves at the store. He wouldn’t call it doubt, but he must have lost control of his expression, because the assistant had been almost motherly, helping him whittle down the selection to two.
As prompted, he’d thought about her hands, and could imagine her wearing only one of them.
Still, he hoped she’d like the ring he’d picked. He hoped she’d say ‘yes’. He wondered if his father had felt like this when he was about to propose to his mother, and very nearly visited his grave to ask.
They’d arranged to meet at the restaurant. It was busy, but Bruce had secured a relatively private alcove - the best table, because of its perfect distance from the kitchen. There were lit candles helping to create mood along with the inviting aroma of food.
He had turned up fifteen minutes early, and he was feeling like he was fifteen again.
Selina surprised him. He told himself it was because he was distracted, but he would occasionally worry if it was because the Cat had wanted to surprise him.
She looked stunning, wearing a simple, form-fitting black dress, no jewelry and subtle make-up, rightly confident that she herself was enough. The last time he had seen her, she’d had a mocking grin on her upside-down face as she flipped away from him.
“Aren’t you going to say ‘Hello,’ Bruce?” she asked. “I thought you had better manners than staring at me without anything to say.”
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.
“Table for two at eight, Mr Wayne. It’s not eight yet. She’ll be punctual, we have some time.” She slid herself into the seat opposite him.
Bruce didn’t even bother speculating how Selina knew his plans for the night. She knew, that was all.
“What do you want, Selina?” he asked. She usually wanted something, a quid pro quo, when they met out of their masks these days. He’d chosen Gotham, she’d chosen criminals, both of them desperately wanting loyalty from the other and only able to give it fitfully. Selina would always be his first love, but he’d long left his boyhood behind.
The fact that, as Catwoman, she was his usual partner, dancing on the rooftops of Gotham, complicated this, but Bruce had had to move on.
“What do you want, Bruce?” she countered.
It took a moment to form the answer, although the different elements of it came easily to mind. Elle - her generous smile; a future full of them; someone who was what Gotham could be - light - blazing sunlight he didn’t flinch from.
“To marry the woman I love,” he said steadily.
“Marriage? Oh, Bruce,” and the cynical note was there, the one she’d always carried from the streets to his manor. The one he’d only driven out of her voice occasionally, a long time ago. “Don’t you know, you’ve given yourself body and soul already? You can’t marry that poor woman.”
“You’re presuming too much about us, Selina,” he said, lashing out. He’d given her as much of his shattered heart as he could.
“Us?” she repeated. “I’m not talking about me, Brucie, although I’m pretty sure I know more of your secrets than your girlfriend ever will. Has she ever wondered why you always disappear when Gordon’s signal fills the night sky? She’s going to someday.”
Bruce stuck his jaw out. He didn’t like the fact that Alfred had said something similar instead of congratulating him when he’d announced that he planned to propose to Elle.
“Do you think you should be asking her to marry you when she doesn’t know about the Bat, Master Bruce?” Alfred had asked.
Bruce had said “Yes,” fiercely. Elle not knowing made her shine all the brighter to him. He wanted to protect her from the darkness he tried to keep at bay. He had plans in train to compartmentalize what he did.
“And one day she’ll realize Gotham had you first and she isn’t letting you go,” Selina said, levelling an old accusation at him, but making it sound like inescapable fact.
“You should leave,” Bruce said, wanting to shut her down, willing her words not to take hold as deeply as Alfred’s doubts had. He’d been relieved that the restaurant had made him wait nearly a month to get this table. It had taken that long to work through them, and repair his relationship with Alfred, who’d always seemed to like Elle.
“Yeah, I guess I should,” Selina said, rising. Automatically Bruce rose too, the years of training that a gentleman should always stand up for a lady kicking in, although usually when Selina was playing the lady, it was time to be wary.
She wasn’t quite playing the lady now, although she looked like one. Her eyes had a touch of remorse, and he remembered that he had loved her and, on some level, always would. In her own way, the same would be true for her, he supposed.
“Believe this or not,” she took a few steps toward him, “I want you to be happy.”
She had said something similar a few months ago, when he’d had to take a break from hunting Mr Freeze to chase after her, because she’d lifted a priceless Egyptian queen’s necklet, although then she’d talked about making sure he had some fun in his life.
“Elle makes me happy,” he told her bluntly.
Selina nodded, hiding her eyes with the movement, and embraced him. He let her, because of all the history they had. His hands took the familiar route to wrap around her lean body. The fragrance of her shampoo hit him and he closed his eyes for a second, but then let go.
It was nearly eight. Elle was coming.
“Goodbye, Selina,” he said.
She let go, not showing any embarrassment at being the one to hold on longest. Bruce steeled his mind against the memory of dozens of other embraces. It wasn’t safe. He was in love, but Selina was never going to be safe ground for him.
“Goodbye, Bruce. I’ll make sure he won’t have any reason to flip the signal on tonight.”
She sauntered out toward the kitchen door. Bruce watched it shut behind her, exhaled and then took his seat again, glancing at his watch. A minute to go. His hand reached for the box with the ring in it, and found his pocket empty.
“Selina,” he whispered, but she was long gone, out of the building, into her waiting getaway vehicle. He could sense it, and even as he made his calculations about chasing her down, he could see Elle being led towards him, looking vibrant in a red coat.
There was no way he could leave. He greeted her, uttering the lines the situation demanded, even though his heart was in his mouth.
It was an unsatisfying meal. Bruce never relaxed, his mind whirring away. He could have proposed, but he had no ring. He could have made a date to go to the most expensive jewelers the next morning - he was Bruce Wayne, he could have called and had the store open up especially for them that night, letting Elle pick her own ring, but he’d wanted to do this right. The question should have followed the reveal of the ring, gleaming on its velvet cushion, reflecting the candlelight.
The food was delicious, but Elle could tell that Bruce was uneasy. Some instinct had told her that this date was different, that this place was special, that after months of dating the most eligible bachelor in town, and finding out that under the veneer of practiced charm and the billionaire lifestyle was a man she liked, respected and wanted, he was going to ask for more. With her expectations baffled, old doubts and questions resurfaced, and when the waiter asked if they would like a coffee - having realized there was going to be no call for champagne - she said no and Bruce made no effort to change her mind.
Elle said she had a headache and called a cab instead of letting Bruce drive her home. She still mainly lived in her apartment. Bruce had respected her wish to be independent and sometimes felt relieved by it. There were other times when he’d almost asked her to move in with him. Of course, asking her to marry him would be to ask the same question in a different way, and he was ready for that. But he wanted to do it honorably, as he knew his father had.
He watched her slide into the cab. The taxi driver confirmed the address, and realized he’d picked up a crier.
Bruce tore through the streets of Gotham in his Lambourghini until he reached Selina’s latest pad. He found three cats there, staring at him with mildly curious eyes, but the place was otherwise empty, and he didn’t bother searching for the ring there. He made his way up to the roof, where Selina was looking out at the city. She’d changed into something closer to her Catwoman costume, a black sweater and close-fitting pants.
“I want my ring back,” he said.
“Oops, tossed it into the river,” she batted back.
He took a step forward.
“Oh, if you’re going to be all threatening, of course I didn’t. I’ve fenced it off,” her voice was cool as if to underscore that she knew he’d lost his temper because of her and what she’d done.
“No, you didn’t,” he snarled.
“Are you going to search me for it?” she asked, turning to face him properly. Like the dress she’d worn earlier, her clothes hugged her body perfectly. The moon was behind her, showing her off. Although the move and the voice had been seductive, both her hands were balled in fists.
“It’s over between us, Selina.”
“Liar. It’s never going to be over,” she said flatly. “I’m going to keep stealing things and you’re going to keep coming after me and insisting I give them back.”
“It’s an engagement ring in your right hand. An engagement ring I was going to give someone else.”
“Ah,” she said. “Except if you really wanted to get married, if you really wanted a woman to take you on, Bruce Wayne, all of you, you’d just ask her. The ring would be neither here nor there.”
“This from the woman who has single-handedly stolen more diamond rings in this city than any gang.”
She smirked, and it was that one expression that did it. Familiar, infuriating, utterly her. He propelled himself forward with the speed and intent of the Batman, but she reacted fast, and leapt toward him.
Her kiss was searing, possessive, and Bruce couldn’t help reacting in kind, as if the past few years didn’t matter, as if Elle and all the other women had been distractions, as if every masked encounter between them had been a form of foreplay. The box fell to the ground, the ring forgotten.
Selina moved back into Wayne Manor with the assurance of a cat that has decided on its home. She brought three cats with her but no diamond rings.
“If you could keep the cats out of the Batcave, I’d be grateful, Ms Kyle,” Alfred said.
“I can’t promise anything,” Selina said, and got a raised eyebrow in reply from the butler.
Eventually Bruce took her to the most expensive shop in Gotham, whispering, “Stop casing this place.”
“Their security is a joke,” she replied in the same tone before pointing to a huge rock and asking the attendant, “can I try that one?”
She picked a ring with a smaller stone eventually. It was still the kind of ring Bruce Wayne’s fiancé would wear. But he’d proposed to her the night before, while in the Bat costume, just after demanding how many lives she thought she had left.
“Enough,” she’d said. And much later, when she could speak again, she’d added, “Yes, I will marry you.”
This entry was originally posted at https://shallowness.dreamwidth.org/382099.html.