Reap What You Sow
by Allaine

Chapter 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11 12  13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

Chapter 9 

 


     The top Rogues all had "themes" that had to be indulged - to an extent, of course.  So Pammy was willing to tolerate a certain amount of "felinity" from Selina Kyle.  It was to be expected that Cat-woman would behave in a catlike manner from time to time. 

     Like now: Selina called to ask if Ivy still wanted to go shoe-shopping together, after she'd initially said that it was never going to happen.  Well, cats were known to change their minds without warning or explanation.  The Rydbergii Lounge would be opening in two days, and Pammy really didn't have time to look for shoes, but she supposed she could use a new pair for the grand opening.

     So she had accepted with calm, queenly dignity.  She had not sounded overeager.  At all.

     "What do you think of these?" she asked, holding up a stiletto-heel sandal with a jeweled ankle strap, all in the deepest, richest shades of green.

     "Mm-hmm.  Not bad."

     Still, Ivy had been astonished by Selina's call.  She had extended the original invitation on the day that she had accidentally greened Selina.  She preferred not to think about that day, and she could only assume that Selina felt the same way.  "Felinity" only went so far to explain why Selina had reversed course.

     It had quickly occurred to Pammy that the most logical explanation was Selina wanted something from her.  It was to be expected.  She was about to become the queen of Gotham's nightlife.  Selina would be only the first of many.  That being said, Ivy could admit to a little - disappointment.  It was a feeling similar to that forgettable day when she realized Selina was only being supportive of her because she'd been greened.  It just would be nice if someone spent time with her because they might actually enjoy her company.

     Well, there was always Harley, but that wasn't really working out these days.

     Disappointed or not, no one would turn down the opportunity to have Selina owe them a favor.  And to be honest, she could use someone to talk to about her worries about the Lounge.  Her employees were out of the question, none of the other Rogues had called on her lately, and Harley… again, no.

     The thing was, they'd been shopping for shoes for half an hour, and they hadn't really said much.  Okay, yes, it had been awkward at first.  The last time they were together, Selina had painfully twisted her arm behind her back, forcibly dragged her across town to a magic shop, and had her interrogated in a most disrespectful manner by the store proprietor. 

     All right, it had been very awkward.

     But whatever Selina wanted from her, she hadn't brought it up yet.  Again, cats could be standoffish, finicky creatures, and Selina was allowed to play the cat - to a degree.  But Selina was usually more direct than this.  Instead she behaved like it was just another night at the Iceberg, as if she was here merely for the shoes and Ivy's company.

     It galled Ivy to admit that she was unable to believe that.

     Ivy hadn't said much herself, waiting for Selina to introduce the topic of whatever it was she wanted.  Eventually, however, Ivy hesitantly made the first move.  "So, I trust you're getting ready for the big reopening this week?"

     "I - may not make it for the grand opening.  But I'll come by soon." 

     Pammy deflated a little.  She'd been counting on a little estrogen solidarity, but if all the other Rogues were coming, one absence wouldn't be noticed.  Plus, Selina did seem a bit regretful.

     "You must be very excited," Selina added.

     "Oh yes, of course," Ivy replied casually, perking up.  "It's going to be quite a show.  Oswald was quite a businessman, but people are going to see what a woman in charge can do."

     Selina smiled slightly.  "And as an added bonus, the Joker won't be showing up."

     Ivy suddenly grinned.  "Why yes, you know I hadn't thought about it like that, but you're right!  That IS another benefit of his passing.  Always being his obnoxious, loathsome self, imposing on others.  I can even remember him chasing Blake with a crowbar the night he died… not that Blake doesn't deserve it now and then."

     "Meow.  But I guess Harley won't be appearing either?  Last I heard, she was still in Arkham."

     "Oh, no, she won't be making it," Ivy said, her face falling.  "Unless there's a miracle.  Still, she'll get out sooner or later."  Then she looked off to the right.  "She simply must," she muttered.

     "So what changes have you made to the place?" Selina asked.

     Ivy took this as an invitation to tell Selina everything about the new Rydbergii Lounge, and she happily began listing the various innovations she'd introduced.  As she went on, however, she also found herself talking about fears and concerns which she'd tried not to admit. 

     In fact, Ivy revealed a lot more about her worries than she cared to.  As a wealthy, influential, legitimate woman of business, there was a certain image she wanted to cultivate, and sounding like a frightened child wasn't it.  But Selina was here and willing to listen, and unlike SOME people, she wasn't too wrapped up in her own problems to care about someone else.   

     "Oswald is just such a schmoozer," Ivy said at one point.  "He's a snob, yes, but he can talk up a crowd.  I'm not really keen on the notion of having to strike a conversation with some total stranger."

     "Ivy," Selina replied, looking like there were things she wanted to say but wouldn't, "believe me, you can talk enough for most people.  Strangers won’t be expecting more than a 'Hello. Having a good time?' and the ones who aren’t strangers, well… you certainly know how to talk to Eddie and Blake and Hugo by now. Listen, just to change the subject a minute, you mentioned Harley earlier.  How is she doing?  Since the Iceberg closed, the Gotham grapevine isn't what it used to be, and I haven't exactly visited the asylum lately."

     "Fine, fine," Ivy said quickly.  "I've visited her several times."  Each time more depressing than the last, she didn't mention.  Harley always seemed to be in the rubber room or a straitjacket.  Or both.  It had to be the timing of her visits.  Simply no one spent that much time in a padded cell.

     She wasn't really sure why she kept going back.  Something drove her - probably because it was the only legitimate excuse she had to take a break from the exhausting work of getting the Rydbergii ready for relaunch.  AND she had to keep a tight rein on Penguin's black market operations at the same time.  It did give her someone to talk to, certainly.  Ivy just wished Harley was a little more responsive. 

     A little less catatonic.

     "Ivy?"

     Pammy looked up, startled.  She realized she was sitting down.  "What?"

     Selina was standing over her.  "Focus, Ivy.  You were off in your own world.  I asked if you were worried about Jenna's."

     "Who?" Ivy asked, mystified.  She was a trifle embarrassed, moping about Harley when she had so much to do!

     Selina paused, evidently thinking something over.  "Never mind," she finally said.  "What about the new bartender?  It can't have been easy replacing Sly."

     "Oh," Pammy said.  "I've found two.  Not as good as Sly, but they should do.  Females, of course.  Men don't seem to be applying for jobs… wait, how did you know Sly was gone?" she suddenly asked.

     "He moved back to Florida," Selina explained.  "I ran into him before he left."  She paused.  "He was taking Roxy with him," she added gently.

     Ivy stared at her for a moment, and her lip curled in disgust.  "Well, from the way he carried her sorry carcass out of the Iceberg that night, I shouldn't be surprised.  I suppose men will always prefer victims, women who need protection, over the strong ones," she sneered.  "Except your Bruce, of course."

     Selina grimaced like she'd smelled a corpse flower.  "Thanks," she said sardonically.  "Look, I don't know what happened exactly between you and her, I wasn't there that night.  A lot happened, obviously, and I've had to get all my information secondhand, mostly from men without memories."

     "Ah," Pammy said.  "Is that why you arranged this afternoon together?  So you could get the real story?  I believe we had a conversation like this before."

     "You mean the day you greened me?"

     "It was unintentional!" Pammy said shrilly.  "You agreed it was an accident!"

     "Lower your voice, Pam," Selina retorted.  "You're making the salesmen nervous."  The man who'd helped them earlier was coming towards them now, in fact.

     "They're men," Pammy told her.  "They should be nervous."  She turned and saw the salesman coming over.  "Because I'm Poison Ivy."

     "No, technically you're Pamela Isley, nightclub owner," Selina reminded her forcefully.  "For all public purposes, Penguin was a legitimate businessman, not a threat to the community.  If you keep acting like Poison Ivy, ecoterrorist, you're not going to have any customers."

     Ivy scowled.  She hated to be reminded of that.  But what was the point of her powers if she couldn't use them?

     So she was unable to resist emitting a concentrated burst of pheromones directly at the salesman as he arrived.  Selina wrinkled her nose as she undoubtedly caught a whiff of the scent.  "Ivy, they're PAID to help, you don't need to—” she began to say.

     But the salesman was already staring at Ivy in a daze.  "Yes?" he asked.

     "I like these," Ivy said, holding up a pair of heels, green of course.  "Do you have them in a six?"

     "Oh, honey, we've got those in every size," the salesman suddenly assured her.  He actually reached out and briefly squeezed Ivy's shoulder, startling her.  "But if you ask me, wouldn't these red ones suit your hair better?"  He picked up a nearby pair and held them near Ivy's head.  "Don't you agree?" he asked, looking at Selina.

     "I guess you're right," Selina agreed, bemused.

     Mystified by the salesman not reacting the way she'd expected, Ivy dosed him again.

     "Tell you what, I'll find you the green ones and the red ones, bring them out, and then you can tell me what's been going on with yourself," the salesman continued.  "I feel like we really should get to know each other better.  Kay?"

     Ivy nodded slowly.  "Um, okay?"

     Satisfied, the salesman hurried into the back room.

     Ivy stared at Selina.  "Did you see that?"

     "Hey, you're the one who gassed him."

     "I may have scaled back on my use of those herbs," Ivy said, "but not so much that my powers aren't still enhanced.  That man should have dropped to his knees and worshipped me, not, not - given me fashion advice!"

     "Well, he certainly got a lot friendlier."

     "Yes, friendly!  He acted less like a man and more like…"  Ivy stopped, and her eyes narrowed.  "Like a woman," she finished.

     "Pffft," Selina said.  "Your powers are gender-bending now too?"

     Ivy didn't respond at first.  It had not been lost on her that when Selina had been accidentally greened, she had not become sexually attracted to Ivy—which Ivy had been grateful for.  Selina was a highly attractive woman, but the idea of her lusting after Ivy just seemed… wrong. Then too, if she felt that way, there seemed little doubt that Selina’s opinion would be far more emphatic.  If there had been any hint of a sexual aspect to her greening, the payback would have been cat-astrophically worse.

     Ivy’s limited experience since then had suggested that women in general, not just Selina, became very friendly and supportive when greened.  Her theory was that the target's gender influenced the outcome.  And yet this shoe salesman's behavior was very similar to how women reacted.  So if it wasn't the victim's gender… why would this particular man react the way women did, instead of like other men?

     One possibility suddenly sprang to mind.

     "Selina," she finally said, "when he was helping us earlier, did he seem at all - gay to you?"

     "Pamela," Selina said after a moment.  "The man is wearing a pink pinstripe shirt, he’s peddling $600 Jimmy Choos, he hasn’t so much as glanced at my tits, instead he complimented my jacket – which he recognized as a Roberto Cavalli.  I’m sure all gay men don’t act alike, and I’d hate to propagate a stereotype, but yeah, I think he’s gay."

     Ivy just chuckled and waited for him to return.  When he did with several shoe boxes, she smiled brightly.  "Since we're friends now," she said to him, "why don't you tell me about who you're seeing these days?"

     He returned her smile as he set the boxes down.  "Well, Harry and I are having our three-month anniversary on Tuesday.  He's a firefighter, if you can believe I'm that lucky…"

     Ivy tuned out the rest of what he had to say, and she sent a triumphant glance in Selina's direction.  Selina shrugged and nodded as if to say, Score one for you.

     And that was how Ivy first discovered, years after she first got her powers, that she couldn't green ALL men.  Just the straight ones.

     Talia alternated between fury and panic as she swept up her bag, checked her appearance in the mirror, and stormed into the hotel corridor, slamming the door behind her.  Her room had been a meager refuge from the sneers and silent remarks she'd received in lobbies, elevators, and dining rooms, but even that now had been invaded by that weaselly little goblin!  Most of people she had to deal with lately would allude disparagingly to her tenure at Lioncorp.  The offensive peasant had forced a cat upon her, made vague threats regarding her newest campaign against the cat-bitch, and belittled her Beloved.  It was not a refreshing change.

     At least he'd taken the damned feline with him when he scurried out without warning.  But not before it left bite marks on the handle of her Birkin. 

     At any rate, Talia had to go somewhere, anywhere, where she would be treated as she deserved to be treated, not like some hopeless failure.  That meant a visit to her father's base in Chinatown.  Fortunately the deathly boring Ulstarn had been removed.  She wondered what stuff his replacement was made of.

     The elevator doors softly pinged, allowing her to enter the thankfully empty car.  She would collect herself in private, grace her father's minions with her presence, and perhaps have something done about that obnoxious "Riddler". 

     "Hold the door, hold the door!"

     So obnoxious he'd been, she imagined she could still hear his voice, trying to give her orders. 

     Then a green-sleeved arm wedged its way between the closing elevator doors.  They re-opened, allowing a slightly breathless Riddler to join her inside.

     Talia rounded on him, fit to explode.  "How dare you!" she snarled, not even thinking to exit the elevator car as the doors closed once again.  "What makes you think you have - if you don't get off this elevator right away—”

     "The doors are closed, you know."

     "Look, partly thanks to you, I am having a really bad day!"

     "I guess you think that makes you one of—”

     The elevator slowed to a halt, having descended just two floors.  The doors opened, revealing two women dressed expensively, waiting to go down.  Talia saw the look in their eyes that she'd come to dread, that of recognition.

     "Sorry, Claudia," one of the women said to the other.  Her stare jabbed at Talia, scorn and disgust in her eyes.  "My ex went to court to ask for a reduction of alimony because his Lioncorp holdings have dropped so much in value, and it looks like he might get it.  So you'll forgive me if I choose to wait for the next one."

     The doors closed again before Claudia could respond.  Talia stood there for a moment as she fought a battle with her emotions that she knew she would lose shortly.  Her lip quivered.

     The Riddler was standing there, looking like he would have preferred not witnessing that last exchange, but before Talia could lose all shame and give into tears, he made a tch sound.  "Vraags."

     "I beg your pardon?"

     "Penelope Vraag.  It's Dutch for 'question'.  I kidnapped her cousin six years ago.  She was - vicious.  I guess it's a family trait."

     Talia wiped her cheek with a finger.  "It's nothing I haven't heard before since I arrived here."  Or in Metropolis

     The Riddler straightened his tie.  "Look, er - I thought about earlier, and I may have overreacted.  Although I don't appreciate you trying to cause trouble for 'Lina."

     She finally deigned to look at him, surprised.

     "How about I… make it up to you?  With dinner?" he asked hesitantly, although there was a gleam in his eye she couldn't place right away.

     Suddenly Talia understood.  Of course he'd overreacted.  He'd incurred the wrath of the daughter of Ra's al-Ghul.  Repenting his folly, he was obviously trying to correct his mistake and spare himself an assassin's garrot.  It was pitifully obvious.  Mentally she sneered at his feeble attempt.

     "Why ever would I, after before?" she asked him.

     He raised an eyebrow.  "Well, for one thing, I'm the only person you're going to meet today who doesn't give a damn about Lioncorp."

     She was going to tell him how transparent he was, and that his plan wasn't going to work.  She felt the elevator gradually slowing to a halt, however.  In a moment she'd be in the lobby, where there would of course be stares from every direction and unspoken thoughts and… 

      where she would be treated as she deserved to be treated, not like some hopeless failure

     Talia sighed.  It was the least he could do after how he'd spoken to her earlier.  "You're buying."

     Selina was going to kill him.  Three hours of his mind racing, and that had been the most immediate, the most obvious conclusion.

     Considering the amount he'd drunk over dinner, Edward should have been either incoherent or hungover at this point.  Certain events, however, could clear his mind as quickly as one of Jervis' mind-control chips.

     Realizing you'd just spent an hour having drunken sex with Talia al-Ghul was one of those events.  Even if she hadn't been snoring in a manner that could politely be termed "unladylike", he wouldn't been able to sleep after that. 

     The plan had been so simple twenty-four hours ago, so elementary.  While dealing with the likes of The Bat required brilliance, having to dumb things down for Talia al-Ghul was easy, if distasteful.  His newest scheme had started off so well, and then not only did the demonspawn interfere by showing up at his next target in a catsuit, but she'd dragged that numbskull Azrael into it too.  It was like having a pack of four-year-olds loose in your carefully-arranged study.

     Get her out of Gotham, that was the plan.  That WAS the plan, anyway, before she had a meltdown.  And buried beneath her incoherent ramblings was the insinuation that Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same person.  A laughable notion for all of two seconds, before it became more compelling with every passing breath.

     The importance of uncovering the truth had led to two further unpleasant steps - postponing his next robbery, and making nice with Talia in order to find out what she knew and how she knew it.   Some would say the second task would be impossible for him, after the way he'd spoken to her earlier.  Those people had never experienced the old Nigma charm.

     That, and they didn't have Talia al-Ghul figured out the way Eddie did.  Too many women in his experience would latch onto the slightest hint of non-hostility and decide romance was in the air. Stand next to them in a group photo and they start picking out china patterns. He had Talia pegged as exactly that kind of needy headcase.

     So Edward booked a room at the spawn’s hotel, on the same floor and conveniently situated across the hall, where they couldn’t help but bump into each other.  She would seize upon this as further evidence of his commitment.  But just as he was approaching his door, he saw the object of his faked affection disappearing down the hall and toward the elevators.  He'd caught up with her, but couldn't help falling back on his usual banter when she confronted him. 

     The Vraag woman gave him the opening he'd needed.  Talia was even more needy than he'd initially realized.  At that moment she'd have killed for someone, anyone who wouldn't bring up her failure at Lioncorp.   She grabbed onto his dinner invitation like an ARDENT WORD, a drowned rat.  

     That gave him an hour or so to unearth what she knew about the Batman.  She would probably be on her guard.  On some level she'd have to be aware that he had an ulterior motive.  Nigma doubted that a creature like Talia could present him with any kind of actual challenge, but he was happy to engage her in a test of wits (such as they were) simply as something to do. It would keep his mind occupied as they both went through the pretense of courtship while trying to destroy each other.

     That all changed when she was the first to order wine.  It had occurred to him that it would be a great deal less intellectually taxing if he could just get her drunk.  He'd surreptitiously told the waiter to keep the drinks flowing - even if it pinched his wallet a bit more than he preferred.  Of course, even a nitwit like her would realize he was plying her with alcohol if he didn't drink along with her.  Still, he'd overindulged many times at the Iceberg.  He was quite certain he could keep pace with her.

     Obviously he was wrong.

     Edward looked over at Talia.  She was not one of those women who looked good while sleeping.  Although he had to admit her lovemaking wasn't bad.  Not as good as Doris, certainly not.  But the sex had been oddly satisfying, and she'd been surprisingly energetic.

     That being said, the purpose of the whole charade had been to mine her for information on Bruce Wayne and Batman, and he'd gotten virtually nothing from her at dinner.  It could be argued that he’d gotten a great deal from her after dinner, but where Batman was concerned, he was no closer to the truth than before — and there was no telling how Talia would react when she woke up in the morning.

     He was sourly aware that it probably wouldn't be good.

     So he was on his own now.  He'd have to figure it out for himself.  Of course he COULD, but he didn't want to delay the timetable any longer than he had to.  He could always just ask Selina, he supposed - if it was true, then she had to know, and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about her keeping that kind of secret from him.  If she had only told him sooner, then…

     Edward's amazing brain did something it didn't often do on its own.  It stopped.

     If it was true… and Selina was as much in love with him as she appeared to be… then…

     Hm.

     Hm.

     Uh-oh.

     For the first time, it occurred to him that this was one of those very rare riddles that he might not want the answer to.

     Sleep, he knew, was going to elude him for the rest of the night.

    When Catwoman landed on the rooftop where Eddie had asked her to meet him, she did so warily.  Normally their meetings were over drinks.  She highly doubted there would be an open bar here.  So this was about privacy, and that could mean either good or bad news.

     Eddie was in costume, looking down at the street below with one foot up on the edge, twirling his cane absently.  Selina joined him calmly and looked where he was looking.  "So that's Jenna's," she said by way of greeting.

     "HIT OUR ARMS.  Rumor has it they're offering a special 'sneak preview' for the Rogues and henchmen before the gala opening," Eddie said without moving his eyes.

     "Is this a Hatter rumor or an anybody-else rumor?"

     "Jervis."

     "Then it's probably true.  Will you be going?"

     "Of course," Eddie said.  "Wouldn't want anyone to think I'm not there because I didn't make the list.  You?"

     "Eventually," Selina replied.  Bruce was waiting to see whether Jenna's or the new Rydbergii Lounge had a better shot at remaining open in the long run.  It made Batman's life slightly easier to have one primary Rogue hangout rather than none or two, and he was prepared to grace the likely winner with a Bruce Wayne “slumming” appearance if it meant ending the competition sooner.  Selina, on the other hand, would probably visit them both.  Jenna's out of feline curiosity, and the Rydbergii for the non-feline, wholly human fascination with train wrecks. 

     Eddie nodded.  "Riddle me this, 'Lina.  What's the only thing worse than an unsolvable riddle?"

     So many answers, Selina thought.  "There's no such thing," she said instead.

     "I'd have said the same thing last week.  But there is a more appropriate answer, one that actually answers the question instead of than sidestepping it.  The irony of that used to amuse me… until recently.  The one thing worse than an unsolvable riddle, Lina, is the riddle you're afraid to solve."

     "Since when have you ever been afraid of a riddle?"

     "It's not so much the riddle as the possible answer," he said dourly.

     Selina smiled.  "Like what Hugo does when he's alone?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood. 

     Eddie stiffened.  "Selina, please, don't bring up his name again, okay?"

     "Okay, okay.  Touchy tonight, Edward.  It’s not like I came up here tonight to banter about Hugo aptly named Strange.  It’s your meeting, what you want to talk about?"

     He finally looked at her.  It was piercing, and yet at the same time nervous.  "I've come across some information," he said gingerly, "suggesting that your boyfriend is Batman."

    A cat may respond to an intensely nasty surprise in one of two ways:  a loud reowl followed by a high-speed flight from the room, or a still, silent non-reaction recognizable only by another cat.  At first, Selina's reaction was the latter:  absolutely no reaction at all.   To display the wrong kind of shock, to become angry or defensive, could all be taken as an admission.  But to be too cool and casual would amount to much the same thing.  So instead she merely studied him for a moment with feline curiosity hovering on amusement, followed finally by a naughty grin. 

      “Eddie,” she began, but got no farther when he tried to interrupt.

     "Selina—”

     "Eddie… Claw,” she cut him off, placing a clawtip delicately on his upper lip.  “Much as I appreciate the heads up, I think I've spent enough time with both Bruce and Batman, that I could tell if they were the same man.”

     "Selina—”

     "Eddie… Claw.  Now look, have you ever heard that expression ‘a woman can tell?’  I know this isn’t exactly the circumstances they had in mind, but trust me on this.  It’s on point.  So if this is you trying to warn me that my lover is keeping a dark secret from me, I can save you the trouble.  It's not true."

     "Oh, Selina, I would love nothing better than knowing it's not true," Eddie said plaintively as he stepped down.  "I might be able to get some sleep, for starters."

     "Eddie, what's gotten into you?"

     He groaned.  "The possibility!  That's what's gotten into me, Selina.  Do you know what it would mean if Bruce Wayne was Batman?  The Bat's identity is the biggest riddle of them all, and who solved it first?  HUGO, that's who!  That imbecilic fart!  Every time I'd look at him, I'd think about how that old pervert figured it out while I laughed at his theory along with everyone else!  A man's ego can only take so much, 'Lina!"

     Inwardly, Selina breathed a sigh of relief.  It was unrealistic to think he would drop the subject after such a simple assurance, but his behavior was nothing like what she would expect if he'd really solved the mystery.  He’d had a scare, that was all.  And here he was handing her the means to allay his fears:  Hugo Strange… Hugo made for a strange ally, but his very unsuitability made him the perfect foil for Edward Nigma’s ego.

     "There you have it, Eddie.  If you don’t want to give me credit for knowing the difference between Bruce and Batman,” she paused to give the final syllables an ironic chuckle, “and for that matter, if you don’t want to give Bruce or Batman credit enough not to try a deception like that - I mean, puhlease, Eddie, think about it.  If Bruce was Batman he’d be in for one hell of a scratching when I found out, now wouldn’t he?  Anyway, if you toss all that aside — me, Bruce, Batman, and Bruce-Batman are all mouth-breathing morons — you’re still left with you and Hugo.  All five of us agree that he’s an idiot, right?  And it’s absolutely impossible that he got there before someone like you.”

     "Me?!  Me?!" Eddie burst out, flapping an arm in her direction.  "It’s not ME that’s the issue here, it’s you!  Christ, Selina, he wouldn't be the Bat any more, he'd be your boyfriend!  How the hell am I supposed to fight that?  What if I hurt him?  What if I kill him?  How could I even risk that, knowing the pain that would cause my best friend?  Believe me, Selina, it's true what they say.  Wisdom sucks when it brings no profit to the wise."

     Selina froze.  Eddie's fear of having his triumph upstaged by Hugo Strange didn't come as a surprise to her.  Neither did him saying that her well-being was important to him.  But to hear Eddie say that her emotional well-being was more important than defeating Batman… that level of concern for the welfare of others wasn't common among the Rogues.  Hell, where defeating Batman was concerned, it was unprecedented.  And it made her realize that whatever was going on here, it wasn't about him putting her on the spot and dragging the secret out of her. 

     "Okay, fine," she said quietly.  "You don't want to believe it's true.  And I just told you it's not true.  So what's the problem?"

     He scowled.  "The problem is you might be lying.  No offense, Selina, but you'd have every reason to lie if it was true."

     “You seem to have riddled yourself in between a rock and a hard place,” she said kindly.  “You won't believe me if I say no, but you don't want me to say yes.  You must know the claws will eventually enter the conversation if you don’t come around to whatever the hell it is you do want."

     Eddie sighed.  "I want you to tell me if it's true, fully knowing the consequences of what you'd be saying.  You know how I am, Selina.  I'll solve the riddle on my own if I have to.  But like you said before, you already know the truth.  You must.  It’s not possible that you don’t.  I can just ask you.  Whatever you tell me now, I'll believe it.  Because if he's NOT, then I can go on like before, not pulling any punches, not having to worry that I'd be hurting you by extension."

     On some level, Selina understood what he was saying.  He was saying…  he was saying that it was all too hard for him and he was dumping it all on her.

     Catwoman hissed at him.

     "Uh, 'Lina?"

     She came towards him and poked him in the chest, the same claw that she placed so playfully on his lip only moments before now delivering a decidedly un-playful threat. 

     "I'm only going to say this once, Edward," she said menacingly.  "You’re the one with the riddle fetish, not me.  Solve it or don’t solve it.  I don't care.  But I'm not doing your dirty work for you.  Take it up with Batman, if you’ve got the balls, or take it up with a therapist.  We both know one who can talk about this particular subject for hours on end.  But you want answers, you leave me the hell out of it.  I'm not here to make your life easier.  Ask me anything like this ever again, and I'll give you a scratching that will make Hell Month seem like Carnival in Rio.  Got it?!"

     Eddie blanched and gulped. 

     Not waiting for a more substantive response, Selina unfurled her whip and swung off the rooftop.  She was pissed, she needed to prowl… and she especially needed to find Bruce.

     Knowing what Eddie would be compelled to do next, everything was about to change.

     To be continued…

 

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