#also psa: bruce is not wearing an ugly turtleneck and does not have gel in his hair in this fic

[leo-fitz-is-a-gryffindor]

Nothing’s gonna harm you (not while i’m around)

Hey everyone! Remember when, two months ago, I said I was working on a Baby BatCat fanfiction? Well, I finally got around to finishing it!

I’m sorry it took me so long, but what was intended to be a small, fluffy OS turned into a behemoth of a fic, filled with angst and hurt/comfort. So I guess it’s a win? Please enjoy!

Baby BatCat. Post-Season 3 Winter Finale.

It's been two days since the standoff between Bruce and Jerome. While Bruce is having trouble coming to terms with his ordeal, Selina has never been more worried about anything or anyone.

This missing moment is about the two of them taking care of each other, having important conversations, and realizing that protecting and trusting are not necessarily mutually exclusive.

Read it on AO3

“No one’s gonna hurt you,

No one’s gonna dare.

Others can desert you,

Not to worry, whistle, I’ll be there.”

— Not While I’m Around,

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Selina quietly observed him from behind the window as he sat on the couch opposite the fireplace, his lanky frame somewhat tense, shoulders sagged and head low. It had been a couple of days since Jerome wrecked havoc on Gotham and tried to murder Bruce, and Selina couldn’t remember a time when she had felt more terrified for him. The moment she’d learned about what had happened, she’d gone straight to Wayne manor, not even caring that she was supposed to be mad at Bruce—she just wanted, needed to make sure he was okay.

But when she had arrived at the mansion, Alfred was already tending to the boy’s wounds, the two of them deep in conversation. She had been about to enter the room, but then she’d seen the look on Bruce’s face—intense, ardent, something she had rarely seen on him before. Suddenly, she had felt like an intruder, a stranger that did not belong in that kitchen with them. Ignoring the stupid tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes, she had retreated into the shadows and left without looking back.

The day after, she had tried to convince herself that not only Bruce was safe, but also that whatever the reason she felt drawn to him in the aftermath of that whole ordeal was, it remained irrational. The boy could take of himself—he’d proven it many times—and she was an independent street robber who had always been fine on her own. He didn’t need her, and she certainly did not need him either.

The next day, however, her resolve had spectacularly crumbled. For the first time in weeks, she had felt lonely, something that had never even occurred to her before she met Bruce. She had spent the whole week seething, mad at her mother, mad at him, but mostly mad at herself for allowing her estranged parent to fool her so easily. She had become weak.

And that night, she couldn’t care less. She had to see him.

So she found herself perched behind his window, not sure how to proceed, uncertain as to what she should do. That was a first, too; clearly, Bruce was softening her in ways that she wasn’t happy about. She was still studying his unmoving form when she heard a twig crack behind her.

“You still won’t consent to use the door as a proper lady should, will you, Miss Kyle?” said a deep gruff voice.

Selina whipped her head around to be greeted by the sight of Alfred, standing on the grass with his arms behind his back, watching her intensely.

“You and I both know I’ll never be a lady, let alone proper,” she answered with a raised eyebrow.

“True that,” Alfred acquiesced. “May I ask why you are here at such a late hour, then, Miss?”

Selina hesitated. “Nothing important,” she finally muttered in a tone that even she didn’t find convincing.

Alfred’s mouth twitched. “I see. Is that why you’ve been sitting on ‘nothing important’’s window sill for the past hour?”

Had it really been an hour? Whatever, play it cool. “I was just leaving,” Selina announced casually before climbing down the wall as gracefully as she could to preserve some of her dignity. When she landed on the floor, she was surprised to see that Alfred was looking at her with mirth in his eyes.

“That would be counter-productive, I believe,” said the butler.

But Selina had no time for riddles. “What do you mean?”

Alfred sighed, his face suddenly solemn. “Look, Miss Kyle. Let’s not play dumb, here, alright?”

When Selina didn’t reply, simply observing him with a frown and her signature defiant glare, he continued. “I know you two are… close. He cares about you, that one is obvious. And I know you care about him, too—”

“Okay, I’m going now,” interrupted Selina, decidedly walking past him.

“No, wait—please!” called Alfred.

There was a hint of desperation in his voice, enough to make Selina stop in her tracks. Taking a deep breath, she turned on her heels and crossed her arms, waiting for the butler to carry on.

“I… I don’t know how to help him,” he confessed, his voice somewhat miserable. “The night… it happened, he seemed—okay. Driven. It was almost like he wasn’t emotionally affected at all.”

Selina sighed. “But he was, wasn’t he?” Of course, he was, she thought. There was a reason why she often thought of Bruce as her—unwanted—moral compass.

“Indeed,” Alfred replied. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on in that head of his, but he’s been… stand-offish. Withdrawn, even. And he’s been having nightmares—I’ve heard his screams in the dead of night. He’s not getting any rest.”

The last bit felt like a punch to Selina’s stomach, although she did her best to hide how much it disturbed her. “It’s only been two days,” she reasoned. “He’s processing. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know.” Alfred sighed again, biting his lower lip. “But I believe it would be… good for him to have someone to talk to right now.”

Selina shook her head. “Isn’t that supposed to be your job, Alfred?”

“I meant someone other than me, obviously.”

“Look,” she retorted with her characteristic stubbornness, “I’m still pissed off about what he did. The last thing he needs is me shouting at him, amarite?”

There was a long pause as Alfred studied her face, seemingly searching the best way to phrase what he had to say. Taking a step forward, he talked in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Although he only meant to protect you,” the butler said, ignoring Selina’s scoff, “you have every right to be mad. And I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to leave now and never come back. But right now, Bruce needs a friend—he needs you.” There was a short pause. “Please.”

Once upon a time, Selina probably would have laughed it off. At the very least, she would have denied that Bruce and her were friends and walked away. But so much had transpired between them lately that she didn’t feel the need to hide how important they were in each other’s life anymore. Weirdly, she didn’t even feel that exposed by her absence of denial—an admission in its own way.

So she gave the most sincere answer she could muster. “Okay.”

The beaming smile on Alfred’s face did not go unnoticed as for the second time that night, Selina approached the manor’s wall.

The butler cleared his throat. “Miss Kyle?”

Her hands already grabbing at the hidden climbing holds she knew so well, Selina turned her head toward him.

“Perhaps consider using the door, this time?”

She smiled. “I would, but I don’t want to disappoint you, Alfred.”

When she reached his window for the second time that night, Bruce hadn’t moved at all; his back to her, he sat still as a statue, his whole body tense. Alfred was right—the boy could use a friend. So, as quietly as possible, Selina pushed open the window and entered the room. 

“Hey, B.,” she said in a soft voice.

Bruce started and got up as fast as humanly possible, turning around to face her.

“Selina?” he uttered, disbelief etched on his face.

In a heartbeat, the disbelief disappeared and was replaced by something else—something softer, fonder, something that unleashed a not-so-unfamiliar rush of warmth in her belly. There was hope too, in the look Bruce was giving her, and Selina felt a maelstrom of emotions wash over her as they observed each other with wide eyes.

After a few seconds, Selina knew she had to move, lest she started trying to untangle the variety of feelings she was experiencing—and she didn’t do feelings. Her legs moving without her making the conscious decision, she found herself walking toward Bruce, her gaze never leaving his eyes. As she was closing the distance between them, Bruce seemed less and less hopeful and more and more terrified, and she undoubtedly would have found it funny if it weren’t for the unexpected knot in her throat.

A second later, she collided with him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him against her. It took a few moments for Bruce to recover from his shock, but then his entire body relaxed; she soon felt his arms slowly coming to encircle her waist. Pressing herself against him, Selina released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding for the past two days.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Bruce whispered after a while, his warm breath tickling her ear.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Selina replied in an equally low voice, burrowing further into his neck. His embrace almost imperceptibly tightened at her words.

Suddenly self-conscious, Selina broke the hug and took a step back. For some reason, she couldn’t seem to let go of him entirely, keeping her hands on his shoulders. The mere fact that she was touching him was appeasing.

“Are you okay?” she asked, studying him inquisitively.

Bruce’s reply was instantaneous, automatic. “I’m fine.”

But he clearly wasn’t. There were black shadows under his eyes, exhaustion written all over his face, and he had an uncertainty to him that had nothing to do with his usual awkwardness.

It broke Selina’s heart.

Noticing her reaction—if not its extent, at least the sentiment behind it­—, Bruce gave her a sad smile, and she couldn’t repress the sudden urge to move her hands to his face, holding it carefully between her palms.

“Come on, B.,” she scolded as her thumbs brushed the dark circles under his eyes. “Can’t fool me.”

Bruce hummed. “No rest for the weary, you know?” he said in a tentatively joyful voice that sounded strained nonetheless. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to cover hers, and that was when she saw it for the first time: the bandage covering his left forearm.

Removing her hands from his face, Selina grabbed Bruce’s wrist and twisted his arm just enough to inspect the compress. “Hey—what’s that?”

Bruce sighed, refusing to meet her eyes as he sat heavily on the couch behind him. Selina followed suit, her fingers still gripping his wrist as she guided his arm to rest on her right thigh.

“I had an unfortunate encounter with a stapler,” Bruce eventually said with an empty expression on his face.

Selina let out a groan. “Jerome did that to you,” she stated rather than asked, her eyes fixated on the bandage. Very slowly, she began stroking her thumb back and forth on his covered skin, as if she could take some of his pain away by that simple gesture. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce raised his head at her admission, searching her face. “For what?”

Selina avoided his eyes. “I don’t know,” she hesitated. “Not being there, I guess.”

“Selina,” Bruce said in a stern tone. “That circus is the last place I would have wanted you to be.”

“Bruce,” she started, shaking her head, “I am—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I just…” He paused, uncertain. “I’ll never stop worrying about you.”

When she met his gaze, his eyes were half-caring, half-concerned. She’d seen this look on his face a couple of times, and although she would never admit it out loud, it felt nice. She offered him a smile despite herself. “I guess that goes for me too.”

His boyish grin was almost enough to make her blush, and not for the first time that night, she felt a new rush of emotions—some familiar, some less so. Selina suddenly understood that she had been wrong, earlier; she did need him, and he needed her, too. The truth was she cared about him, probably more that she had ever cared for anybody else.

Overwhelmed by her realization, Selina kept one hand on his forearm while the other went to Bruce’s hair. Carefully, gently, she swept back the bangs that were falling over his forehead, her fingers threading through the dark strands before taking hold of the locks behind his head. His eyes fluttered close at her touch.

“I almost crossed the line,” Bruce murmured in a very small voice, and Selina understood right away that he’d just voiced the crux of his struggle—the real reason why he hadn’t slept in two days.

“What line?” she asked quietly, trying her best to adopt a supportive tone.

Bruce sighted, his brows furrowed, eyes still closed. “I had Jerome pinned down, at some point,” he explained. “He was defenseless. Barely conscious. But I—I kept punching his face—I just kept hitting him—and—and…” Bruce’s shoulders started trembling as he tried to regain his breath, but the words just wouldn’t stop tumbling out of his mouth. “I wanted to­—I wanted to do it so bad, and I—I couldn’t stop—”

“Hey, hey, Bruce,” Selina interrupted, recognizing the early warnings of an imminent panic attack. She moved her hand from his wrist to his fingers, intertwining them carefully as her other hand’s grip on his hair tightened almost imperceptibly. “Look at me.”

His face contorted in pain, Bruce managed to open his eyes, training them on Selina. For some reason, the moment seemed more intimate than it ought to be.

“Okay, kid. Now, deep breaths,” she said in a soothing voice. “Breathe with me, okay?”

She focused on her breathing, trying to make it regular and steady. In, out. In, out.

Slowly but surely, Bruce began to calm down. Seeing this as a positive sign, Selina started talking without really realizing it, holding his gaze. “You went through a horrific experience. You were fighting for your life against a murderous, psychopathic maniac who wanted to make a show of your death.” She couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. “Heck, I would have killed him if I were you.”

Bruce frowned at her last sentence. Great, Selina, she thought bitterly. Exactly what he needed to hear.

Seeing that he was about to argue, she backpedaled. “My point is—you could have crossed the line… but you didn’t.”

Bruce’s breathing had finally returned to normal, allowing him to speak. “But I wanted to,” he whispered, avoiding Selina’s gaze.

She pulled on his hair, just enough to force him to make eye-contact again. When he did, her gaze was fierce, unflinching. “But you didn’t.” As Bruce just kept intently looking at her in silence, she continued. “You didn’t, because you’re better than that. You’re a good person.”

In the back of her mind, Selina wondered if her statement shouldn’t be followed by another sentence. Perhaps something along the lines of, “And that’s why I—” Well, what? Admire you? Care about you? Lov—hey. She didn’t do feelings.

After a few seconds, Bruce grinned—a genuine, appreciative smile. “Thank you,” he murmured in the small space between them.

“You got it,” Selina answered, suddenly shy. To avoid the boy’s inquisitive stare, she used the hand in his hair to bring him closer, gently resting her forehead against his. She closed her eyes at the sensation, letting out a breath of relief at the mere fact that he was here. Bruce’s fingers squeezed hers.

The moment was undeniably nice, but Selina was rapidly starting to feel self-conscious. “Okay,” she said a few moments later, reluctantly removing her forehead from his. She decided she could still indulge herself a bit, and pressed a gentle kiss against his brow, keeping her lips there a bit too long before moving back. “You gotta get some sleep, B.”

“I’m fi—” he started, only to stop at Selina’s glare. To her delight, his cheeks were slightly red. “Alright, maybe I should,” he admitted.

Repressing a cheeky smirk, Selina let go of Bruce and scooted over to the end of the couch, pressing herself against the armrest and stretching her legs to rest her feet on the low table facing her. Then, she looked over at Bruce, patting her thighs. “Lie down.”

He was staring at her as if she was a crazy person. Or maybe he was simply taken aback. Or both.

“Are—are you sure?” he managed to mumble, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Do I look like I’m not sure?” she retorted. “Come here,” she added in a softer voice.

Bruce considered her instruction for a good five seconds before finally moving. He laid down on his left side, carefully placing his head on Selina’s laps, facing outward. He was doing his best to look casual, but she could feel just how tense his entire body was.

She couldn’t help but let out a low laugh. “Relax, B. I can hear the gears turning in your brain.” Instinctively, her right arm curled around his middle, her hand loosely resting on his stomach. Her other hand went once again to his hair, her fingers gently combing through the black locks in what she hoped was a soothing pattern.

Judging by the humming sound from his throat, Bruce seemed to enjoy it—but his eyes were still wide open. Selina started to suspect that their physical proximity might not be the only thing on his mind. “Bruce,” she whispered, “do you trust me?”

His answer was instantaneous. “Yes.”

“Then relax,” she went on. “I’m here. You’re safe. I’ll stay awake.”

“You don’t have to,” Bruce opposed.

“But I will,” she insisted, continuing to slowly card her fingers through his hair. “Just rest.”

Under Selina’s gentle ministrations, Bruce’s body became slack and heavy in a matter of minutes. His eyes closed, he put his right forearm above hers, tenderly tangling their fingers and placing their joined hands more securely against his stomach.

“Thank you,” he eventually sighed, his head going limp in her laps.

Selina tried to downplay the whole thing—and her blush—with a half-convincing “Whatever,” but Bruce was already fast asleep.

  Being a woman of her word, Selina did not sleep at all that night. She had a purpose—making sure Bruce would be able to get some rest—and she’d be damned before she’d let something as trivial as sleep get in her way. Sleep was for the weak, although she had to admit she was pretty damn tired. 

Over the course of the night, she had started losing interest in Bruce’s luxurious hair. As the hours went by, each stroke of her fingers began gliding a bit further—to the nape of his neck, to his shoulders. After a while, she’d been drawn to his face, his features sharp and pleasant. She reflected that he was losing his boyish cuteness in favor of a manly beauty—not that she cared.

Bruce looked peaceful and young as Selina’s soft caresses went from his forehead to his temples, from his cheekbones to his chin, from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears. She knew her touch was meant to comfort him, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it herself.

When Bruce began to stir, her hand returned to his hair, where it was safe. He slowly opened his eyes, stifling a yawn behind the hand Selina wasn’t holding. Then, he turned on his back and planted his slightly unfocused gaze in her eyes.

She smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he smiled back. A second later, he frowned. “Did you stay awake all night?”

Selina shrugged. “It’s barely six in the morning.”

But Bruce wasn’t fooled. “Did you?”

“Well, I said I would, didn’t I?” replied Selina, who was somehow feeling on the defensive.

“Right,” he said. Then, contrary to her expectations, Bruce grinned. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Oh, really?” she scoffed, feigning indignation. “What, are you complaining now?”

“Absolutely not. I love it when you make me go out my way to win you back.”

“First, I’m not to be ‘won’, so get over yourself. And second, it usually happens when you do something either self-righteous or stupid. It often overlaps.”

Bruce watched her with a blank stare for a few seconds before cocking an eyebrow. “Smartass.”

“Nerd.”

They both raised their eyebrows at each other, then promptly burst into laughter. Bruce had to sit up not to choke. As their hilarity died, Selina could see him becoming more and more somber. He eventually turned toward her with a solemn face.

“I’m sorry, Selina.” Faced with her questioning look, he went on. “For your mother, and… the whole situation. I made of mess of things, and I shouldn’t—” His voice breaking, he sighed heavily and took Selina’s hand in his, cautiously stroking her palm with his thumb. “I know what I did was wrong, I truly do. But I was just trying to protect you. I’m really sorry.”

Selina nodded. She hadn’t expected him to apologize to her so soon, so she had to think for a moment before she could properly answer.

“You had no right.”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t your call.”

“I know.”

“But I understand why you did it.”

“I—wait. You do?”

“Yes.” Selina paused for a moment. “But it doesn’t make it cute, or acceptable. I don’t need your protection, Bruce. What I need is for you to trust that I can take whatever comes my way. That I can, and should, make my own decisions, even if you disagree.”

Bruce looked sheepish. “I just—I want to be there for you.”

Selina squeezed his hand. “Then, be there. But you have to trust me.”

“I do,” he answered with a solemnity she had rarely seen. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I could never forgive myself if—”

“That’s the thing, Bruce,” she interrupted. “It’s not about you! It’s about me!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

He was starting to get agitated, which in turn agitated her. She was just about to let go of his hand and leave when he fully turned toward her, his knee resting against her thigh, his face suddenly full of affection. She was rooted on the spot.

“I know I should not make decisions for you and keep you in the dark, and for that I am sorry,” he explained. “But you can’t expect me to stop trying to protect you.” As she was about to argue, he continued louder. “I know you can take care of yourself—I know it! But come on, Selina. You’re doing exactly the same thing.”

“I am not!” she refuted. How dare he turn the situation around?

“Oh, please,” he went on with a knowing look that infuriated her even more. “Be honest. You’ve been protecting me for the past three years!”

Selina was at a loss for words. “I did not—what even—that’s hardly comparable—”

“It’s totally comparable, and you know it,” Bruce said in a low voice. The change in his tone somehow gave back some normalcy to the conversation. “Look, I… care about you too much to not at least try to protect you, and I…” He hesitated. “… I think you feel the same about me.”

Selina didn’t know if she was supposed to be angry or pleased anymore, so she just waited for him to continue, her face guarded.

“It doesn’t mean that you need protection,” he clarified. “And we both know that, between the two of us, I’m probably the one who needs it more.”

“You don’t say,” Selina managed to utter, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bruce ignored her. “What I mean is, protecting each other? It’s what we do. It’s in our DNA. You can’t fight it any more than I can.” He was staring at her with a hopeful look on his face. “Please, Selina. Tell me I’m wrong, and we’ll never have this conversation again.”

He was clearly searching her face for any sign, but she was still sporting a blank expression. She started thinking about everything they had been through, from the moment she had watched his parents being shot to her intrusion last night. About every time she’d saved his ass… and every time he’d saved hers.

And then, she remembered how she had felt for the past two days. She remembered the feeling of utter terror when she’d learned about the confrontation between Jerome and Bruce. She remembered how helpless she had felt, how she would have given anything to have been there with him, in that moment. To help him—to protect him.

It clicked. He was right.

“Okay,” she answered carefully. She tried to ignore Bruce’s beaming face; she still had a point to make. “We do protect each other. I get that. But…” she insisted, “no more lies.”

Bruce cocked his head, confused, waiting for her to elaborate.

“We can’t keep lying to each other because we think that’s what it takes to protect them. We tell the truth, and then we find another way. No more lies.”

Bruce nodded. “I can live with that.”

“I mean it, B.” Selina warned. “If you want… whatever this is—” she said while pointing at their joined hands with her head, “—to work, you have to be honest with me.”

The smile Bruce gave her was almost blinding. She felt herself blush.

“Deal,” he said happily. He paused. Then, “Selina?”

“Yeah?”

Bruce took a deep breath. “May I kiss you, now?”

She almost choked at the unlikeliness of his question. They’d just had a not-so-small fight, she had pulled an all-nighter and it was six in the morning, but of course he would ask her that. Great timing, kid.

She was about to turn him down with one of her signature sarcastic one-liner, but then she realized that she wanted to kiss him, too. Deep down, she knew she felt something powerful for the boy—the man—in front of her, something she was still not ready to acknowledge and pick at. But it surely didn’t mean she had to be on her guard all the time, right?

She was still pondering the question when her gaze lingered on his face. Full of boyish hope once again, with his soft eyes watching her like she was some kind of wonder. She laughed despite herself, and that was it.

“You’re such a dork,” she said before closing the distance between them.

His lips were soft and pliant under hers, not too demanding but still responding to hers. In that very moment, her world narrowed to him—his musky, metallic scent, his reassuring, pleasant warmth, the overall solidness that emanated from his entire being.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it was somehow the best one they’d shared yet. They fueled it with all their unexpressed feelings, all their hopes and fears, all their promises and certitudes. It was a kiss that tasted like trust and faith and admiration. There was tenderness and confidence, and an undeniable sense of future. Selina loved it.

They were both out of breath when they parted. Selina was debating whether or not she should kiss him again when a yawn slipped past her mouth.

“That’s flattering,” Bruce said jokingly, although Selina could hear the faint hint of self-doubt in his voice.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she assured him. “I’m just pretty beat. You know, with all the not-sleeping thing.”

“Sorry,” he replied, although he had nothing to apologize for; she was just being matter-of-fact. “You have to get some sleep. It’s not even seven, we can still rest for a few h—er, where are you going?” he asked as Selina got up.

She stared at him. “Home?”

“Why?”

“To sleep?”

“No, I mean—why are you not staying here?”

Truth be told, Selina had realized that she’d been more affectionate and vulnerable around Bruce in one night than in three years, which is why she’d thought it more prudent to go home before she could embarrass herself even more. But since she couldn’t really tell him that, she merely shrugged.

Bruce took advantage of her confusion to press on. “Please stay, Selina. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

His hopeful face was hard to resist, not to mention that she really wasn’t fancying going all the way downtown before finally catching some sleep—it would take her at least an hour, and she’d have to walk. Conversely, Bruce’s mansion was warm and nice—and Bruce himself wasn’t so bad.

“Okay, then,” she agreed with a small grin.

Beaming, Bruce slid over to the other end of the couch and laid on his back, opening his arms in an unambiguous gesture. “Come here.”

His attitude was almost suave, and she definitely would have made fun of him if she wasn’t so tired. Instead, she simply snorted. “You really are a dork, you know.”

“Should I act offended?” he replied in a playful tone. “Just come here.”

Suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever, Selina gave in and sat next to his waist. She was about to lie down when she warily eyed the space he had left for her.

Bruce frowned. “What?”

“There’s not enough space for the both of us,” she pointed out.

“Yes, there is.”

Who’s stubborn, now? “I’ll fall off,” she insisted.

“You won’t,” Bruce guaranteed. “I won’t let you.”

It wasn’t a big declaration per se, but Selina felt something intense when she locked eyes with him, something that spread a warmth from the pit of her stomach to the tip of her limbs. This was Bruce. She could count on him. She could trust him.

“Okay,” she answered.

Cautiously, she laid down on her left side and molded herself against Bruce’s body, adjusting to his sharp angles. Her right hand came to rest upon his chest, and she hooked one of her legs with his ankle to avoid falling off. Her head buried on his shoulder, she softly nuzzled her forehead against his neck, making herself comfortable.

Once she had settled, Bruce’s arms came to encircle her frame and press her against him, hugging her. One of his hands rested on her waist while the other found its way at the base of her neck, but both were drawing small, soothing patterns on her skin.

“Is that okay?” he asked, unsure of himself in a way she found adorable.

“Yeah.”

She could almost hear him smile. The hand on her neck went up to tangle in her curls, and soon enough, Bruce was lightly massaging her scalp, combing his fingers through her hair over and over again. If she’d had less self-restraint, Selina would have purred.

She couldn’t deny how good this felt—snuggling up against Bruce, cuddling with him, the warmth of his body surrounding her. She felt content, relaxed, and mostly she felt safe. With the sort of life she had, safety was never overrated. She was about to doze off when Bruce cleared his throat.

“Selina?”

She mumbled her answer against his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Just wondering,” he said, mirth in his voice. “Does this mean you’re my g—”

“If you say it,” she interrupted, “I swear I’ll hit you.”

His laugh reverberated through both their bodies, and Selina couldn’t help but smile.

“Fair enough,” Bruce declared.

Then, he bent his head down and kissed the top of her head, his lips resting there a few seconds before he replaced them with his cheek. She saw this as a sign that he was getting less scared of her, and she didn’t know if she liked it or not. But as he continued petting her with more tenderness than she’d ever experienced, she allowed herself to fully relax for the first time in months, and eventually fell asleep.

  A few hours later, Alfred entered the room while doing his best to balance a tray full of food. His gaze fell upon Bruce and Selina, both of them fast asleep in each other’s arms. There was something peculiar about their posture, in the way they were wrapped around each other—as if each was trying to protect the other. 

Alfred smiled when he noticed Bruce’s hand on Selina’s, their entangled fingers resting on his chest, just over his heart. They radiated peace and intimacy, and Alfred suddenly felt like an intruder. Shaking his head, he tore his eyes away from them and turned around, the tray still in his hands.

“I guess breakfast can wait, then,” he announced to no one in particular, carefully closing the door after him.