fille_fatale | ( IC CONTACT )

[The sounds of the club, the people in it, turn into ambient noise: she's already tuned out his friends, and she feels people watching. She barely notices.

Making an annoyed sound when she sees the door needs a key code, Selina steps out of the way to let Bruce punch in the pass. No quip comes to mind fast enough, so she pushes through the door once it's open and nearly trips on the first step. It makes her laugh, and she peels her shoes off without stopping, taking the rest of the stairs barefoot.]

[Bruce's shoes were a little easier to manage in,, and he took the steps at precisely her pace, reveling in the look of her silhouette in the darkened stairwell. The way her laughter echoed off the walls. The door at the top was opened with a single push of the handle--]

[The air was cool and refreshing and, were he a few shots shy of his current condition, it may have even sobered him up a little. For the time being, however, Bruce continued to ride his alcohol-induced high as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.]

[It was quiet up here. Perhaps one of the few quiet places left in this part of the city. The sounds of street life continued on below, but were muted to the point where one could almost ignore their presence. There was no one around to see them. And he was 90% certain he had closed the bottom stairwell door behind them, meaning there shouldn't be anybody coming up anytime soon to disturb them either.]

[For the first time since...well...before...they were alone.

[The air is bracing, and once she's out in the open, Selina closes her eyes and tilts her head back, filling her lungs. Everything always sounds better, up here - the city was still there, a comforting backdrop of noise, but quieter. It was like the city giving her a place to think.

She's a few drinks shy of him, and she hasn't been drinking like this for the past God knows how many days, weeks, like he has. It helps clear her head a little, of the thrum of the speakers downstairs, the crowd of too many bodies.

Turning around to face Bruce, she lets her mouth quirk up in a half smile.]

Just going to stand there?

I'm enjoying the view.

[Spoken genuinely, even though he was very cheekily grinning at her.]

You're having fun. You're smiling. It's nice to see.

I smile. I have fun.

[It's less defensive than it might normally be: she feels a little less like she has to defend herself. Dropping her shoes, Selina heads to the ledge, though she's at least aware enough of her BAC not to jump up on it.

She just looks out at her city, and for once doesn't first think of how gross it is, how bad it smells.]

I'm also drunk.

[She turns to smile at him over her shoulder, crooking her head in an invitation to join her.]

I know. So am I.

[Though not enough to miss that invitation. It had him crossing the last remaining space between them until he was standing right at her side. Arms resting on the raised surface, looking out and down onto the city lights below. A breeze blew at his face, lightly tousling his hair.]

[She leans against his shoulder once it's there, turning into the breeze. It sends her curls bouncing, and she looks up at him - he just kept growing, she feels like he's gotten two feet taller since they first met - with an immediate smirk.

Reaching up, Selina ruffles his hair, mussing it up. He always looked too put-together - maybe less, tonight, but his hair was still so well coiffed that she wanted to ruin it.]

That's better.

[Only not so long ago, it seemed like Bruce still had to look up at her to meet her gaze. Now, the situations were reversed, and...for some reason, he still felt like he was looking up at her. Just not physically.]

[Then he blinked, and her hands were in his hair, and he had to pull back before freeing himself. Not before the damage was done, however. And he...pouted.]

Hey!

What was that for?

[He pouts, and she wonders how he always looks so wounded--

--in the back of her mind, where she's still mildly aware, she knows exactly how he manages that--

--but she smirks up at him despite it.]

Trust me, it looks better.

[He nearly goes cross-eyed trying to look up and discern the damage. Pausing only when she insists her preference for the messy-haired look. That...seemed to alleviate him some, but there was a moment's pause in which the pout had yet to fade.]

[Until it did.]

[Because he had an idea. A stupid idea. But an idea.]

Yeah? [He took a step forward.] What if I repaid the favor?

[With that, he playfully darted his hand out, intending to mess with her own locks.]

[If she was sober, she'd see it coming long before it does. As it is, she only gets a second's leeway where she tries to dodge out of the way, ducking down to avoid his fingers.

It reminds her of their food fight, just a little, but they're a bit past if you hit me, I'll let you kiss me.]

No way! [She steps back, laughing.] My hair's perfect as is!

[Bruce might not have gotten the memo of where they were, because the look in his eyes--if slightly more glazed--was strangely similar to that time. Filled with laughter and mischief and a complete lack of fear or consequence.]

Is is.

I'm just making it more perfect.

[He reached for her again. A little faster this time.]

[When did he get so fast? Used to be that he had no hope of keeping up with her. Now his hand is in her hair before she can dodge again, and she grabs his fore arm with both hands to drag it free.]

I'm pretty sure we've got different views of perfect.

[She traps his arm against her chest, refusing to let go.]

[That was...quite the strong grip Selina had on his arm. Which was now notably pressed to his chest in such a manner that it was definitely her doing and not his. Which meant he had to think on his feet, less she find someway to turn this back around him, and--]

[...and none of that seemed to bother him much. Because with his arm trapped like that, it also meant she had pulled him close to her. Very close. Seeing his reflection in her eyes close.]

I'm okay with mine.

Yeah, that's why you're lucky I'm around.

[The breeze picks up, and she lets go of his arm with one hand so she can press it against his back and pull him closer. It's mostly to protect her against the wind and the chill. Mostly.]

Hey.

[She tips her head back, some of the humor fading as she remembers why she decided to come in the first place. Maybe it's the wind, reminding her that there's more out there than a night of too many shots.]

What I said earlier. [She's not sorry: Selina doesn't do much apologizing, anyway.] You're not a spoiled brat. You don't have to pretend.

[He accepted her non-apology all the same, though he didn't seem inclined toe agree with her.]

Yes. I do.

Pretending is easier. Don't have to think about who I really am. Or the things I've done.

I know who you are.

[She means to tell him that he doesn't have to pretend with her, but the words are harder to find right now. Instead, she reaches up to run her fingers through his hair, compromising by tucking one lock back into place.

She can be nice, when she wants to be.

...But that doesn't stop her laughing at him, a quiet huff.]

What've you done?

[She can't believe that it could be so terrible - after all, she's killed for him, because he couldn't do it himself. Reggie's death isn't something Selina loses sleep over.]

[He expected her to laugh. In fact, he almost liked the fact that she did. That Selina, of all people, still saw the old him. Before. That she would have such a hard time believing he was even capable of half his crimes.]

[But the drink was loosening his tongue far more than his normal discipline would have preferred.]

You wouldn't understand. [Him. The shadow in his eyes as he thought back to that moment. It wasn't that she wouldn't understand the situation so much as...] Why I changed. The choices I made since...you and I were last on a roof together.

'm not sure I understand.

[She always thought he had too many inhibitions. Maybe all this was good for him, after all, though Selina still doesn't like being told she wouldn't understand. The annoyance at it is easy to call on, ready to turn into an anger that she can throw back in his face.

The shadow in his eyes gives her pause, and then he keeps going. The annoyance fades a little, and she leans back to get a better look at him.]

I don't understand the change at all. You could at least tell me why. Cause you kind of remind me of your clone, and--

[She trails off: her last meeting with not-Bruce is something she never got around to telling him about, and God knows what Alfred told him. It's not something she's interested in telling him, either, especially not while her tongue is feeling loose.]

Just tell me what happened. Can't be as bad as you're making it.

I'm not a clone.

[Although he didn't sound so determined to make the distinction as he might once have. The "other" Bruce Wayne might have done some terrible things and aligned himself with the wrong people...nearly killed Alfred...but, really, was that any worse than the thing Bruce himself had done since.]

[And he didn't want to tell her. But she kept asking and insisting it wasn't bad and the alcohol was challenging that part of his brain that felt...competitive wasn't quite the word. But a sudden urge to prove her wrong.]

Found the person who ordered my parents' death.

[A pause. That was clearly not the whole story, but he wanted to see how many puzzle pieces from there she could guess. Selina was smart, and she also knew him...but just how well, he wondered.]

[She thought he'd be more insistent about it, and there's just a moment where panic prickles the back of her neck - but the high smooths it over, makes it less of a concern. He's not the clone - and besides, she can tell when he's lying. Maybe it's just the buzz making her more confident, but she believes it.]

Yeah?

[It's an invitation to go on, one she doesn't think he'll take. So even as she asks, her thoughts spin ahead: what's the worst thing that could come of that?

Well, plenty, but the point should be, what's the worst thing to Bruce?

It takes a second longer than it should, because the thought occurs and then is dismissed - twice, first because she doesn't think it's a big deal, and again because it's just not like him.

But. The way he's acting? How much he's grown - how much he's spent looking for this person?

Yeah. He could do it. But she doesn't let it make her recoil: she never liked him because he was some perfect little rich boy, she liked him because he was - messed up. Like her.]

All this cause you killed him? Jesus, B. He literally ruined your life so, what, you're just gonna finish the job for him?

[Of course she would figure it out. Except...he wasn't sure what he'd expected in terms of a reaction, but hers felt...almost underwhelming. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Not anymore. On the one hand, she didn't turn away from him in disgust. On the other...she seemed a little too okay with the idea.]

[Maybe not thrilled, no, but this is what he meant when he said she wouldn't understand. Not just what he'd done, but why. And why it was tearing him apart.]

He wanted me to. He wanted his life to be over and I gave him exactly what he wanted.

He manipulated me into breaking the one promise I never wanted to break.

[She can feel all those old frustrations milling around in her gut, and she lets go of his arm completely. Selina can understand not wanting to give someone what they want, it's kind of her modus operendi - but practicality is, too.]

Was Gordon there with a gun and cuffs? I mean, what was the other option?

[She's filling in pieces, as she usually does, too fast and not very fairly. She just assumes that he was in some kind of danger, and saved himself, because isn't that always how these things go?]

[He shook his head. Frowning in deep thought. Simultaneously trying to suppress rising memories and see through the haze of fog still clouding that moment.]

No. Detective Gordon wasn't there. Not until after. Just in time for him and Alfred to see what I did.

[It had been just him and Ra's. The soft glow of light illuminating their faces amidst surrounding shadows. Ra's voice. Light and in control. Speaking of...of disappearing. Of Bruce growing up in the light. Living a life happy and free. Becoming a husband and a father. Only...]

He threatened my family. The one...the one I could have. Some day. If he were to have left me alone. Leave until I spent long enough forgetting about him that I wouldn't be ready. And I was filled with so much hate. I hated him. I wanted him to die....

So I killed him.

[She doesn't have it in her to be horrified by death, not this kind of death. Selina knows him - knew him, maybe, and that kind of hurts to think in past tense, in a way she doesn't really want to consider - and she gets it, sort of, why he's reacting like this, why killing the guy who basically set him on this path ruined whatever higher purpose he thought he had.

She gets it. But she thinks it's pretty ridiculous, all the same.

Dropping her arms from around him entirely, Selina just looks up at him with something close to her usual annoyed bewilderment, when they have disagreements like this.]

So he had your parents killed, and he threatened whatever family you'll have eventually, and you feel bad about this? Bruce, seriously, you did yourself a favor!

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