#they both are passionate about animals (selina more about felines but still

[penelopwgarcia]

damian would love selina and dc can't tell me otherwise. "she's a criminal and damian has a back and white moral" most of selina so-called crimes actually aren't about stealing jewelry but ANIMALS under abuse. bruce would come back as batman and damian be like "hell nah I'm going with selina and fighting big techs that experiment on animals bye!"

[lalunaunita]

The Purrfect Crime: Chapter 5

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7    Music Fanmix by @pennywaltzy

Rating: Teen

Summary: Bruce and Selina go on a lunch date. Selina receives disturbing news. Batman and the Commissioner set a trap for Catwoman.

The Purrfect Crime: Chapter 5

Bruce got to the office thirty minutes early, energized by Batman’s morning escapade at the pet shop. He couldn’t get Catwoman’s earnest rage from the night before out of his head. He should have put together the pieces sooner, but to be honest, the plight of stray cats around Gotham City was very low on his radar. The humans of Gotham suffered as much, if not more, than the animals—though he agreed deep down that the need to care for the city’s animals wasn’t diminished by Gotham’s other problems.

Debra looked up from her desk and smiled when she caught Bruce’s eye. Uh oh, thought Bruce. I know that smile.

“I made you an appointment,” Debra sing-songed.

“I’m all booked up for today—er, errands and that sort of thing. Alfred knows,” Bruce answered, trying to glide past his secretary’s desk.

The sanctuary of his office was only ten feet away. He could make it in three seconds.

“It’s a lunch date. Alfred said lunch was clear today. Selina Kyle.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks. Debra’s dimple was out in force and couldn’t have been more charming. She held a pen at the ready over her desk calendar. Her voice oozed a false nonchalance.

“Shall I cancel it? For your errands?”

The pen descended quickly . Bruce involuntarily reached out a hand to stop it. Debra was pitiless!

“No! Ah, I mean, no, thank you, Debra. Lunch with Selina sounds nice. I’m surprised she called, honestly.”

Bruce snatched his hand back and stuffed it into the pocket of his well-tailored suit. He felt uncharacteristically nervous. Between Debra and Alfred, he sometimes wondered who exactly was in charge.

“Don’t be. I think the Gotham Cat and Habitat Conservation Society is following up on several of the larger donations; sort of a one-on-one thank-you for your contribution. Or at least that’s what Ms. Kyle said.” Debra shrugged and set down her pen, turning to her computer.

Summarily dismissed, Bruce walked the last few feet to his office; work and a particularly hairy land development issue was waiting for him, after all. He turned at the doorway and looked back, his mouth half open and a half-finished thought on his lips. Debra cocked a suppressive eyebrow at him. He shut his mouth, shook his head, and closed the door behind him.

By the time lunch rolled around, Bruce couldn’t have been more happy about the break. He’d researched both hard and soft copies of Gotham’s property and zoning laws for several hours and was ready to tear his hair out. He knew his legal team had already pored over the pages in depth. But Bruce Wayne was smart too, when he chose to show it, and he certainly was stubborn. A morning spent with dusty old legal volumes wasn’t out of character. He leaned back in his luxurious office chair and scrubbed his hands over his eyes with a sigh. There were absolutely no loopholes. He’d have to pay the piper if he wanted to start residential and commercial development on that land.

Debra buzzed in on his intercom. “Don’t forget your lunch date, Mr. Wayne. Alfred will pick you up in five minutes.”

As if he could! Bruce grinned to himself and rose, smoothing the rumples out of his button-down shirt. He snagged his suit jacket on the way out of the office, gave Debra a conciliatory wink, and got on his way. Unabashed, Debra winked back.

“There he goes—like a bat out of hell when it comes to Selina,” she sighed happily to herself.

Selina’s glossy short locks were easy to pick out among the lunch crowd at The Dark Bite, a trendy downtown restaurant. She was seated outside under the shade of gently swaying branches. Trust Selina to know a spot with natural greenery to brighten the experience, Bruce thought.

She looked up and smiled as he approached.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked.

Selina pulled a mock frown. “You’d better not. I’m expecting a high-powered businessman to join me for lunch.”

“I’ll just move over when he arrives,” Bruce assured her and seated himself.

Selina smiled and looked the other way as he removed his suit jacket. An impeccably dressed waiter poured a glass of water, then another of white wine.

“I hope you don’t mind; I chose something ‘summery’ to match the weather,” Selina said, indicating his wineglass with the wave of a hand.

“Sounds perfect,” Bruce agreed.

“So how are you? How’s Alfred? Dick?” Selina asked, once ordering was out of the way.

Bruce sipped his water and leaned back into his rattan chair.

“We’re all in good health. Dick’s a little bored by summer vacation, but he’ll survive. He’s a bit too old for camp now. He needs to find a job.”

Selina let loose a silvery peal of laughter. “You definitely sound like a dad. Are you going to find him something at Wayne Enterprises?”

Bruce shook his head. “Maybe in a few years, but he’s too young and too charming to actually do any work at ‘dad’s’ business for now. They’d let him get away with murder—and he would take full advantage.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Selina chuckled.

“Guilty as charged,” Bruce agreed with a grin.

They paused, comfortable in the lull. A breeze stirred the napkins under their water glasses and sent the leaves overhead into a dizzying swirl. Dappled shadows danced delicately across Selina’s beautiful face. Bruce let his mind wander into territory he scrupulously avoided. Selina’s company was always a delight and left him strangely wanting when he was alone once more. He couldn’t help but wonder how a relationship with her would be. To ask for more—to give more. To see her smile each day, and hear her voice murmur close to his ear. At times like this, he was keenly aware of the shadow of the bat over his shoulder. Its burden felt heavy, its protection thin.

Bruce shook himself and tuned into what Selina was saying.

“...and we’ve put down earnest money to secure the property, and things are just going perfect. The new Gotham Cat Sanctuary should start moving ahead full speed in about a month. Honestly, that’s why we’ve been making the rounds and saying thank you to our donors. It’s such a perfect piece of land, and your contribution came at just the right time. Bruce, I can’t wait to make this place a reality. It’ll have room for all kinds of cats, big or small. State of the art veterinary facilities, specifically designed for feline health. Enough room that we’ll be able to take in new animals indefinitely—which is so important with all the kill shelters here in town! And there are some big cats with strange histories; we find more of them every day. Do you know, down in Texas, there’s a lion in a sanctuary zoo that was owned by a drug dealer? Can you imagine? Those are the kind of animals I want to help.”

Selina’s eyes shone with passion. Bruce stared, mesmerized. Selina was famously unflappable—he should know. He’d been trying to get a rise out of her for years. Her new project had clearly taken over, in the best way.

Her phone rang at the edge of the table. She checked the screen, thin eyebrows raised.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Bruce. Do you mind if I take this?” Selina half-rose from her chair.

Bruce inclined his head. Selina pushed away from the table and stepped over to the waist-high wrought iron fence that enclosed the restaurant’s porch. Their food arrived moments after she left, a phenomenon that never seemed to fail in Bruce’s experience. He unrolled his silverware, settled his napkin on his lap, and awaited Selina’s return.

His first clue that something was up was a shift in Selina’s posture as she returned. She still smiled, but it appeared glued in place. Bruce set down his fork, concerned.

“What’s up, Selina?” he asked, trying to peer under her lowered lashes.

She shook her head, chin dipping toward her chest. Bruce leaned forward and reached over with one hand. Her fists were balled up tight, white knuckle tight. He could feel tension thrumming under her thin skin.

“Selina, please tell me,” he murmured.

Her chin trembled a bit as she took a shaky breath. One tear dropped onto the tablecloth.

“The property’s been purchased,” she whispered.

“Oh, no…” Bruce groaned.

Selina nodded, frowning. “Some developer made a better offer. More likely he bribed the right city official. There were no other offers as of this morning! They were going to sign papers with us this afternoon. I can’t believe this.”

Bruce rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, willing her fingers to unclench beneath his own. Selina brought up the edge of her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. She gave a gusty sigh.

“I’m sorry, Bruce. I’ve ruined our lunch.” She cast regretful red eyes over the table.

Bruce shook his head forcefully. “Don’t be. Selina, I know we’re not close, but… you can come to me with anything. I’ll always listen.”

Selina gave a tremulous smile. “I know that Bruce, and thank you. And you’re wrong. We are close. We’re just busy.”

“That’s true enough,” Bruce agreed. His heart wavered between a plunge of concern for his friend and a leap at the smile he’d brought back to her face.

They turned to other topics over the meal, but Selina’s bubbly energy never quite rallied. Bruce felt—and compartmentalized—irrational anger at the investors who’d cheated her out of her dream. Not a single call came through on his phone. He knew he had Debra to thank for that.

Inevitably, the time came for Selina to return to her other duties. Bruce didn’t press her for another glass of wine or dessert. She’d stayed pleasant through the meal, but it was clear she needed time to process her disappointment.

He escorted her to the valet and waited as her car was brought up.

“So, have you heard about the recent string of cat thefts in Gotham?” Bruce asked.

He’d stayed well away from mentioning it to anyone, but Gotham PD had broken the story in a news conference just that morning.

Selina stiffened and cocked her head to look at him. “I saw it on the news, yes.”

“It’s such a disparate collection of animals—big cats, a show cat, kittens from a pet store. I wonder what the commonality is,” Bruce mused.

“I trust Gotham PD to handle it,” Selina shrugged. “Or maybe Batman will get involved.”

“Maybe,” agreed Bruce.

Her car ready and running at the curb, Selina turned to Bruce and took his hands. She stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Bruce. For everything. It’s really nice to see you.”

He gave her fingers an extra squeeze and let go. “You too, Selina.”

He watched her drive away, brake lights flashing as she merged with traffic. Alfred pulled up a few seconds later and came around to let Bruce into his vintage black Rolls Royce. Bruce smiled to himself when he noticed the well-trained valets side-eyeing the vehicle. Lost in thought, he strapped in and let Alfred return him to Wayne Industries.

Batman met up with Commissioner Gordon late in the evening at the GCPD Headquarters. Everyone except the beat cops and the front desk on duty had gone home for the day. Things were quiet as Batman slipped into a utility closet window he was familiar with. He didn’t know whether Jim found it unsettling or reassuring that Batman could get into into the GCPD building undetected, but it was always wise to have as much knowledge of a space as possible. From inside, the closet had a simple twist lock. Batman let himself out, careful to check the deserted hallway. Jim’s office was three doors away.

He noted first the noises coming from a cat carrier on Commissioner Gordon’s desk. Someone was protesting their incarceration.

“Ruffy, I presume?” asked Batman from the doorway.

“Oh! Batman! Do you always have to sneak up like that?” Commissioner Gordon grabbed at his heart as he looked up with wide eyes.

“Sorry, Jim. Force of habit.” Batman came up to the desk and peered into Ruffy’s carrier. “You’re a handsome fellow. Ready to serve your city, Ruffy?”

The tiny white cat meowed a question in return.

Jim rolled his eyes as he removed Ruffy from the cage. “Needy little thing. I can’t deny I love him, though. He’s a good cat.”

He held his pet up high as Batman pulled a thin collar outfitted with a location transmitter from his bat belt. He placed it around Ruffy’s neck and buckled it.

“Now, you’re sure the collar is secure?” Commissioner Gordon asked.

“You won’t lose Ruffy—that’s a promise. I’ll take good care of him,” answered Batman.

Commissioner Gordon gave Ruffy’s ears one last scratch, then deposited him into Batman’s waiting gloves. Ruffy revved up his purr. The Commissioner fixed the little cat with a droll expression.

“Well! Would you look at that! How quickly I’m replaced,” commented the Commissioner.

“Makes my job all the easier,” Batman chuckled.

He didn’t mention the catnip hidden in one pocket of his belt. Batman hitched Ruffy into an underarm carry and shook hands with Commissioner Gordon. He opened a window and ducked out under the panes of glass. The night air was cool and pleasant. Little Ruffy’s whiskers twitched as he sniffed about curiously.

“If my suspicions are right, I’ll have him back to you in less than a day, Jim. Thanks for volunteering Ruffy.”

Commissioner Gordon gave a final nod. He stepped back as Batman fired his grappling hook and swung away.

A few blocks away, Batman dropped down into an unnamed alley and remotely opened the Batmobile. Ruffy leapt right in and settled himself to one side of Batman’s centered seat. Batman shook his head.

“I’d almost think you understand what we’re up to. Or maybe it’s just the catnip,” he told the cat.

Batman and Ruffy drove to the edge of town and stopped at a deserted block. The area was somewhat known for being Catwoman’s haunt, although of course no one knew her actual location. Glimpses and sightings, amounting to little more than urban legend, were Batman’s main body of evidence. He was reduced to hoping it was true—and hoping she was not watching from the shadows. Batman cast a keen eye all around as the translucent carapace of the Batmobile slid back. Not a single shadow stirred.

“Alright, Ruffy. This is it. Do the Commissioner proud,” said Batman.

He exited the vehicle and picked Ruffy up. He deposited the small cat in an unassuming alley with a surprisingly decent amount of trash. The area was known for non-violent squatters. As a result, Batman hardly ever visited it. Thieves and murderers were more his concern. He pressed a hidden button on the side of Ruffy’s collar, then let the cat go.

Ruffy immediately took off down the alley to explore. Batman felt a twinge of concern. Ruffy was a pampered housecat, not a tough, feral stray. If he got in a fight, he could literally be eaten alive. Batman had already noted the absence of other strays—just like the alley near the pet shop. Hopefully Ruffy wouldn’t encounter another cat at all.

Batman leapt back into the Batmobile and sped away. He had a hiding spot or two even in this part of town. He parked not far from Ruffy’s alley and turned off the vehicle. Ruffy’s locator pinged on the Batmobile’s display and the readout of his vital signs was normal. Batman settled in for the night. He was officially on a stakeout.

[nicksstoryvault]

Against the snowy gales buffeting over her long black coat, Selina momentarily quelled an intrusive shiver, as light flurrying drifts of snow-kissed over the flawless alabaster of her sharpened, polished cheekbones, her feline poise altered as she was out of her natural element of shadow, instead of garbed in her sleek charcoal-black neoprene suit, a low-cut, one-shouldered black Dior dress, stunningly adorned over her lithe and delectable curves, she was dangerously ravishing in the semblance of graceful elegance, a svelte, kittenish beauty that appeared tempuously untouchable with beckoning allure, the cascading lengh her mahognay wavelets restrained into a chignon, with silken tresses constrasting the paleness of her cheeks; transforming her into a forbidden siren, while masking the ardent decadence that surged through her veins.

stiffened at the phantom sense of HYDRA’s tentacled sources that were ensnaring secrets about Bucky’s horrific--torturous past--KBG files that pinned him to weaving threads, the Winter Soldier was an eternal identity of rebirth that wouldn’t be effaced by the Clean Slate USB drive, Bucky was chastened —shackled to the damning existence Armin Zola had altered him into, the illusion of reachable light to freedom wasn’t at his doorstep.

An immeasurable silence filled the night, and all felt intangible and unreal to Bucky as he stood motionless in the alley outside the Little Italy café. What should have been the first night in a long line to come where he and Selina would celebrate their unbreakable love and passion for each other, had instead turned into a night of unexplained shock and horror that left him feeling disconnected from reality around him. The world seemed as speechless and devoid of sound just as himself, for nothing but white noise rang in his ears. Steel-blue orbs gazed unblinking and listless at the unassuming yet unusual sight of a female cow—a bovine—lying unconscious, flat on her side beneath a pale street-light. Cows belonged on farms, or somewhere in the rural-parts of the world where nature and pasture were dominant; they didn't belong on a city street. The scraps of a torn black Dior dress hanging from the back and shoulders of the large yet slender shaped creature was a heart-clenching reminder that it wasn't in fact a bovine—not originally. Only ten minutes ago, it used to be the woman he loved: Selina Marie Kyle. After their dinner took an unexpected turn due to Selina's unexplained behavior and physical illness, he followed her out into the alley just in time to see the magnitude of her deterioration. Something—or someone—had done something to his precious kitten because people didn't just turn into animals on a whim. The soldier inside of him urged him to keep a disciplined approach, but the man who was in love told the soldier to shut-up and allowed his emotional downpour to show. Wetness collected in Bucky's eyes, a frown marred his once boyishly cheerful features. Shakenly, his steps took him closer to the unconscious cow…Selina. "Oh my God," He whispered, finally disturbing the dreadful silence and making everything feel more real. His legs felt weak, his feet felt numb and before he knew it, he had collapsed on his knees beside the bovine, watching as she released deep and even breaths. "Selina…" He whispered with a broken tone.

In the obstructing darkness under the wooden stairwell, a spare and unwelcomed feminine presence loomed menacingly behind Bucky and his fattened bovine; she fed off the aura hopelessness, it was utterly electrifying. 

Twitching her deviant crimson lips into a sinister grin, she encroached in whimsical--haughty advances, her leather boots unlaced bespoke an eccentric spirit as she was adorned with long black coat and ripped fishnet leggings, her thick raven curls gnarly and unkempt against the contrast of her pale--ivory features and her viperous dark irises ablaze with sorcerous conjure. "So tell me, charming boy," she simpered tauntingly, with an English resonance in her raspy tone, gesturing a gloved sheathed hand to the inert and mahogany furred bovine that was a devoid of kittenish beauty. 

"Do you still think your enchanting princess is gorgeous now that she's a fertile beast?" she ventured deviously, gazing down at the pinkish, veiny sack of swelled flesh growing between Selina's broad hind legs, and scowled in disgust. "She's not even ripe for milking yet..." She hissed out tersely and mirrored the hostile flash of glacial heat in Bucky's shadowed, teary steel-blue eyes, sharpening into razor slits under his disheveled chestnut tresses...She gazed deeper finding  a desolate spirit against the feverish sheen of unshed tears. "It won't matter, she just needs to submit to one of my big boys."

The foreign voice succeeded in jarring Bucky from his decadent grief and he snapped his gaze into the woman's direction. He recognized her immediately as one of their waitresses that served them dinner tonight and whispered a confusing yet ominous question into his ear. The confusion he felt evaporated almost instantly, and the sorrow he felt inside welcomed the empowering surge of rage and malicious into his system as he glared hateful daggers at the woman. "You…" He said with accusing tone as he slowly rose up onto unsteady feet. "You did this to her, didn't you!" He yelled, his composure shattering into a crescendo of consuming aggression. He felt his impulse guiding him into a deadly strut towards the unknown woman's direction, his hands clenching into indomitable fists at his sides.

Feeling the vibrations of his intimating stomps against ice encased puddles, she reared her head back, freely emitting a crackling laugh of morbid elation, conveying her unmasked insanity. She was relishing his banking desperation, craving to see how far he would go to restore his beloved kitten back into the strikingly beautiful and lethal woman he loved; she loved balancing the extent of one's unbreakable promise of devotion against the gravity of utter failure--grief. Bucky was in the crosshairs, his stoked embers of cold driven ferocity would soon douse once he accepted heartache--the abandonment of his murderous strength. How deep was the measure of his love to the bloated cow, did he truly love Selina for beauty or was it beyond reflection? Swaying her head in serpent motion, she flashed him with a deranged smile, challenging the unstoppable momentum of his raging heart. "You can do whatever you want with me, bash me to the ground, choke breath out of me, it will not change your beauty into a human again.. for love always has a price, and you only see her as swan because of blinded heart, so I plucked her feathers and turn her into an ugly duckling..." She pointed a finger down at the stirring bovine, devilishly, unleashing a ruthless--inevitable challenge to arrest his lethal intent. "Unless you can prove to me that love can be true in a new existence, your dear Selina Kyle will remain a hefty bovine...She will lose all memory of ever being human and yield to instinct..." She curved her darkened lips wickedly into a devious sneer, meeting his molten steel-blue irises into a deadlock. "So prince charming, do we have a wager?"

Bucky tensed from his halted posture, feeling as if he were a puppet on strings and there was nothing he could willfully do other than listen and glare as the mystery woman both mocked and tempted him with a gamble. His fists at his side shook at the strain of his warring impulses between listening and rampaging. Deep down he knew that violence wouldn't restore Selina, if it was at all possible. The older woman in front of him appeared equally unafraid and amused by his visible struggle and Bucky couldn't help but wonder what she was capable of. Clenching his jaw, he remained fixed to his position with his expression shifting to one of scrutiny. "What are you? A witch?" He muttered distastefully, looking over her goth-like appearance that was an obvious indicator that it wasn't just a sense of fashion. The questions he carried lingered at the back of his mind and slowly they began to trickle forward. "What do you have to do with Selina, or me for the matter?" A part of him worried this was some kind of reprisal for a forgotten crime he committed as The Winter Soldier, or perhaps from Selina's days as the infamous Gotham cat-burglar.

She merely shrugged in response, indignantly, after hearing the hitching tremor edge in his graveled timbre, her dark eyes gleamed with a spectral cast of darkened malice, spitefully revealing her indecorous mirth against his relentless urgency to restore his transformed lover. "Let's just say that I'm a snake that strikes into men's hearts, I crave to ravage the bounds of love, bringing saps like you into a desperate thrall of wretched submission, the prince's kiss always breaks the damn spell to free his true love..." She finally answered, becoming intently drawn into Bucky's unwavering eyes were infused with contemptuous fury, his aquamarine depths paled into a livid glint of untrammeled mania, evident to his barred teeth as his full shapely lips pulled into a wolfish snarl. He radiated with hostile intensity, a morphic consonance of vicious menace that was revving to escape. His lengthy chestnut mane flitted off his powerful shoulders, as flurrying snow lashed over his clenching, stubbled jaw.--he was ready to lunge for the attack. She didn't falter back when his imposing shadow eclipsed her. Instead, she weaved her fingers into the snowy air, conjuring up the sorcerous energy to orchestrate, as she teased with a retaliatory pitch. "What happens if I decide to twist the story, if the moment your lips touch your princess's, you pay the price...I'm not a ghost of your destructive past, James Buchanan Barnes, I'm a storyteller of grim tales, and you have just become my new prince... “

"You're insane if this is all a game to you," Bucky sneered. The witch's flippant remark made that ravaging impulse to seize her throat feel even more unbearable. Mobsters, terrorists and aliens weren't bad enough, now they had the supernatural to contend with. Beings with power they couldn't just counter with brute force. Bucky inwardly cursed his, and Selina's astronomical bad-luck at finding themselves in trouble. "If you knew who we were, you'd know that winning won't be our only goal. We'll burn your whole story to the ground if you screw us over…" Perhaps threatening the witch further wasn't a wise move, but Bucky wouldn't be a push-over and a slave to her tricks and schemes. He'd had enough of those to last a life-time. He silently considered his options. He didn't understand how magic worked but he knew at least one sorcerer that lived in New York who could be of help. Asking for help was a possibility, but would he only be endangering Selina further? He released a despondent sigh. "What do I have to prove to you, anyway? I love Selina more than life itself—"

“That would be quite sweet if those words were eternally bound to your dear heart,” she pouted mockingly, hindering the utmost of his declaration, as he downcast a heated glare of steel-aquamarine blearily down at the unconscious bovine, heartache was tellingly vivid in his eyes, his restraint --defiance was fracturing bone-deep, as his lips shakily quaked as a faint sob drew up his throat. His despair was amplifying when he listened to breathy grunts emitting from Selina's lax muzzle. He was on the hairbreadth of releasing the surge of unbidden tears.

The mage tilted her rounded jaw up, waiting for him to drop to his knees and surrender to the warped reality she conjured him to tread through."If you truly love your pretty heifer more than beauty and the quenching lush of her lips to tame your virile hunger, I will extend my kindness to you, James Barnes, giving you one chance to abolish the curse--" She circled around him with viperous grace, whispering insidiously against the knife-edge curve his clenching jaw, trying to shatter his steeled resolve. "How long can you slave for her until that unbreakable devotion is transmuted into revulsion...Will you still love dear Selina even when she's nothing more than a gluttonous and repulsively swelled dairymaid, I wonder?"

"Shut up," Bucky hissed, revealing rows of perfect white teeth that gave him the appearance of a beast being provoked into fury. The witch had the gall to look offended by his comment, but it didn't stop him from looming over her with repressed aggression, loose brunette strands framed the corners of his turbulent gaze. "I've heard enough of your sick and insane rambling. I'll play your little game and once I've freed Selina, you better never darken our doorstep or cross us again. Because it doesn't matter what tricks you have up your sleeve, I will find you and you won't like what happens next."

Reeling back with evasive motion, she teasingly placed her fingers on her pouting lips, gasping breathlessly in a malicious cadence of alarm. Bucky's passive visage had dangerously morphed into something more bestial--unhinged. His steel-blue irises liquified into luminous heat under askew dark tresses as she felt his fuming gusts of seething breath ghosting down her throat. Restraint was becoming threaded as deadened malice pulsated in his constricting pupils. In jaunty response, she licked her lips vilely, daring him to uncage the rearing beast inside. "Threaten me all you want, but it won't undo your curse..." she viciously sniped, grinning at his delay of aggression.

"Give me your contract," Bucky shrugged tiredly, knowing she was right and threats wouldn't get him anywhere closer to restoring the woman he loves. Words couldn't describe how useless and vulnerable he felt right now, and his show of intimidating as a ditched effort at helping him to feel in control. Squaring his jaw, he retreated a step backwards and relaxed his posture into one that appeared non-threatening. It went against every fiber of his being after enduring a life-time of enslavement. But it was a risk he would have to take. Selina was worth it.

The arcane cravings of sorcerous hunger mounted through her veins, as she handed Bucky the scroll, her sable eyes alight with devious anticipation as she watched him read the mythic text of ink that would seal his damned fate; tumults of unassailed emotion clashed against his aching heart, unblinkingly he shakily nipped on into swell of his bottom lip, quashing down a throated sob as sigils of pigs and roses formed under the shadow of his fisting gloved hand. "Are you prepared to give everything up for her?" she pressed with an indifferent tone, weaving her gracile fingers in the air as dark vapors formed into a raven's feather that landed into the clasp of his opened hand. "Once you give me your name, dear James Barnes, no matter how much you will fight, in the end, you will be a memory to her..."

The witch's words were a clear indicator to Bucky that no matter the outcome of this game, he was going to lose, one way or another. The gleeful and sadistic glint in the older woman's eyes showed an absence of humanity and remorse in her soul that he had seldom seen in the twisted and malicious faces he'd crossed in his life. The feathered-pen in his hand felt as sickly as a insect crawling across his skin. He refrained from crushing it and the papyrus in his other hand and resolved to sign away his freedom lest he become consumed by doubt and second-thoughts. Selina's life and humanity were at stake, and there was nothing else he could but sign his name on the scroll. The instant the ink scrawled the last letter of his surname, he was taken by surprise when the scroll suddenly began to glow an eerie green. "What—" Before he could question it or drop the parchment out of surprise, the energy encompassing the scroll swirled around his body until it dissolved into particles of residual magic that permeated his flesh. It felt like a thousand needles piercing his skin and he became rigid with a breathless gasp as the magic fused inside of him.

Jerking her head back as her raven curls lashed over the polished ivory of her cheek, she drew out an orgasmic crackle against the sapidly of her victory of his inevitable choice, her dark irises flashed down as Bucky surrendered to gravity, falling into a stance of all fours, as verdurous tendrils spiraled rapidly over him, infusing into hardened swells of his broad muscles, as he parted his lips agape to release an anguished cry as his metallic fist hammered into the pavement with vicious force. Like a calamitous--striking viper, she violently slashed her nails against his arching back, ripping the fabric of his shirt, only to be rewarded by a seething growl. "Now, the curse bound to you, in five nights you will say goodbye to your humanity and exist as a worthless, bloated pig..." she hissed, yanking on his curtaining tresses to force his head up. "Now go and kiss your pretty cow..."

"No!" Bucky cried out, anger and distress clawing against his very soul. An ill-engulfing surge of anxiety washed over him from head to toe, making him shudder and tremble in the wake of its touch. He just signed his life—his humanity away and there was nothing he could do other than play the hand being dealt to him. Tightening his metallic digits into a powerful fist, he moved to lash out in sheer frustration as his emotions took ahold of him. "I'll—" To his utter confusion, the witch was no longer in sight, her presence having left no indicator behind save for the twisting agony in his body. Blue-eyes wide and unblinking, Bucky gazed around the dark alley in search only to find no sign of her. He didn't feel surprised. He was jostled from his reverie as he felt a sting against the back of his palm. It was scalding as if he had just been branded by a hot poker. Wincing he glared at the ill-message formed with green characters. "Five days…"

Against the heaviness berthing her down like a heap of cement, Selina responded automatically to the distressed pitch of Bucky's raw, throated sobs, becoming aware of sudden intrusion of coldness raking over her subdued form. Slitting her dark eyes open, her vision was blotched with a feverish haze, everything was blotched into amorphous shapes, with a measure of conscious effort, she tried to speak, but the sleekness of her melodious voice was gone--ousted by the alarming volume sonorous bellow that was unmistakable to a cow mooing. Her limbs felt weighted down by shackles of stone, and the pungy stench wafting off her was odious. She groaned out a stifled breath, lifting her large head off of the chilled pavement, instantly shuddering against the absence of his thermal heat embracing around her. "B--Buckoo--" she bellowed, cringing at the disturbing cadence ripping out of her throat. "James...Where are you, handsome?"

Groaning in a faint breath in response to the graveled timbre of his velvety undertone, Selina welcomed the ease of his strength as his gloved palm cradled against the curve of her jaw, he captured her awareness, steadying her down by the anchoring, sensual heat that resonated in his veins. His thumb smoothly glided a delicate sweep with controlled tenderness, as Selina reacted, tucking her large-widened head against the alloy plates of his metallic shoulder; calmly breathing in the heady scent of sandalwood and minted ice that penetrated her senses. Her opened her eyes slightly, staring at the full curve of his shapely bow lips, moonlight contrasted over rosy flesh as he quivery parted his mouth, revealing a flash of bucked teeth, while Bucky did his damnedest steeled himself against the barrage of achingly deep emotion.

In the delirious wake of recognition, something felt alarmingly different in her, as unbearable pressure swelled between her legs, almost like someone lodged an oversized balloon filled with heated liquid in that guarded area, it was a revolting sensation of layered flab that snug against the undercurve of her stomach. Jolted by that sickening feeling, she went into defense mode, rearing her head back, her jeweled coffee orbs widened owlishly as she dreaded to shift her reluctant gaze down. "Bucky-Bucky," she bellowed, her irate breaths grew into rapid pants. All resistance fled. Her heartbeat increased to a frantic crescendo in the moment she stared into his strikingly pained steel-blue eyes, the clarity of unshed tears was unsettling...He looked utterly detached-helpless to even chase her stare towards the hump of mahogany fur covering the fattening expanse of rounded barrel-size girth. "W-What's happening to me?"

The words Bucky dreaded had escaped her mouth, revealing a helpless uncertainty that was both painful and rare to hear. He could feel an increase pressure on his chest, as if his heart were being pulled into an abyss where it would be rendered cold. Watching the distressed creature with familiar brown eyes begin to panic, he knew that he couldn't skirt around the subject or try and break the news to her slowly. Selina was a blunt woman and she hated prolonged news. Licking his dry lips, Bucky blinked repeatedly before releasing a somber breath.

"The waitress in café…slipped something into your drink. Whatever it was, darlin'…" he grimaced, feeling his lips tighten as he found himself momentarily lacking the courage to continue and lead Selina into a downward spiral of emotions. But as he felt the bovine bristle with impatience, he knew he couldn't bite his tongue any longer. "Whatever it was, it turned you into a cow…" He swallowed a large lump of emotion in his throat, while his eyes stung with a pouring of emotion he could no longer control. "I wouldn't make this up, darlin'. You know I wouldn't…" he sniffed. "Look for yourself," he gestured down to her lower body urgently.

"What the hell are you playing at, Bucky," Selina dismissed an incensed snort, despite the soul-churning tension in her overly plump, furred body was suffocatingly paralyzing to relent against, she recoiled her large head back, her coffee irises flared with dangerous heat as she composed herself, discarding temerity of his breathless words, her ingenuous demeanor shifted lightning quick like gleam of knife in the dark, as she finally centered the unwavering intensity of her alarmed-blank gaze onto a sack of pinkish, veiny pudge with four plump teats poking under overlaps of sagging wrinkled flab that undoubtingly inflated into distinct shape of dairy cow's -milk jugging- utter.

In benumbed horror, her leathery muzzle parted gaping wide, breathlessly. Selina was unable to react-to dare herself to move as the cacophonious wake of unbridled hysteria amplified through her into a tenfold, as she thrashed her head, blindingly with vehement sways, feeling ungrounded by the nightmarish -unfathomable reality she infinitely awoke into.

"No-No, I can't be a damn cow..." she bellowed in an infuriated pitch, squeezing her eyes shut, and lowered her head down on the hardened sculpt of his thighs, feeling the chilled wake of his metallic fingers without demur grace a soothing, telltale caress over her tensing fur, keeping her secured against him. Nipping on his lower lip, Bucky remained impassively guarded in his gnarled qualms, the edge of his unmasked pain gleamed dismal within his grayish-aquamarine irises; the illusion of his resistance couldn't be conjured. He was reeling away into a hopeless stupor, his soul inveigled by the influx of failure. The concessive throb clenching her heart abated. "Urgh..." Selina moaned, gritting her reshaped teeth, snorting out a vexatious breath."What kind of sick minded freak would change someone into a big fat cow and just walk away from the spoil..."

“She said she wants to test us…it’s a game to her,” he muttered morosely. There was an edge of disquiet as she became still, listening to him as he told her the specifics of his encounter with the crazy witch who wanted not only to destroy their love but turn him into a pig beside Selina. It was the stuff of nightmares and Selina had endured more than a few that were similar to her experiences in Gotham. Bucky instantly regretted saying anything more right now, especially as he could hear street-noise and civilians moving outside of the alley. They couldn’t stick around there much longer.  

It was then that she began to show signs of distress and panic. Her expanded size trembled, almost violently on her side as if she were trying to understand how her new body was supposed to function. A braying cry ripped from her throat, turning Bucky’s blood cold at the sound of it. “Selina, darlin’—”He tried in whatever way he could to get her to calm down but it felt as futile as trying to get a storm—a force of nature—to do the same. Gently he rested the warm expanse of his palm against the back of her neck and began to rub soothing patterns. “Just try to relax, I’ll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get outta here.”

With resurgence of feline momentum under the intimate tenderness of his caressing palm, unceremoniously, Selina huffed out an incensed grunt, trying to gain a firm sense of balance against the vertiginous onslaught, while she elicited the assailing disgust ravaging through her veins; she tried hefting up her rotund mass, feeling the heaviness of her swelled girth pinning her down. She no longer harnessed the acrobatic grace, the sleek precision of her lethally alluring caliber that made her sharp as honed blade scrying through shadow; every feminine curve of her lithesome body melted into layers of bovine flab.

This wasn't something she could brazenly evade. A sorcerous force had penetrated her, and condemningly morphed her into a voluptuous heifer -she couldn't discard the constant pressure of her utter stretching between the broad slabs of her furred hind legs. How she find an effective way to adapt to this distasteful--obese form...How could Bucky even love her, unless he voluntarily turned into a robust bull? Emitting a frustrated breath, and stifling a curse, she eased a frontal hoof off the chilled pavement, using Bucky's shoulder as her anchor as her large muzzle buried against the material of his shirt, a blurring rush of fleeting tears dampened his sleeve, as she finally arched her belly off the ground, welcoming the gentle cradle of his unwavering gloved hand that smoothly curved with delicate assurance under her jaw as trepidation injected into her heart. "How are we gonna do this, krasivyy (handsome)?" she gritted tersely, cringing at the deepening volume of her stricken voice. "I'm not sure if I can even stand on these damn hooves..."

"Just take it slow," Bucky offered quietly, rubbing the silken fur at the back of the bovine's neck in what he hoped was an assuring manner. In truth, he did it to assure himself as well. He needed that sense of easement and familiarity whenever he and Selina offered comfort to each other in their moments of disquiet. Of course, he couldn't be sure if the action felt the same to Selina in her new body, but he had to hope he wasn't completely useless as he was still feeling considering all this. Inwardly, he wondered, "what now"? As he took in her full appearance, she was big—measuring close to five feet in length and height. This was still his Selina, reminded himself, easing the bovine only four wobbly hooves. Her dark mahogany colored fur glowed line the sun beneath the street-lights luminating the alley-way enclosure. Her large muzzle was a pale rose, reminding him of the full-lush of her ruby-bladed lips. "I got you, darlin'. I got you," he whispered near her ear, feeling his heart swell as he took in her unchanged scent of lavender. In the distance, he could hear the street noise run louder, putting him on edge about what would happen if anyone came through and saw this odd scene. He needed to move her somehow that wouldn't unwanted attention. 'Steve…' The name entered his thoughts instantly, filling him with both hope and calm. "I'm gonna need to make a call," he said to her reassuringly. "Don't worry."

The sudden absence of his warmth evoked ingrain dread, nothing silenced the primal interference against her steeled resistance, as Selina grudgingly braced the massive bulk of her bovine form against the cement wall, steadying herself into a grounded stance while she grappled to subdue the rapid barrage of instincts possessing her. Regardless, she needed to remain poised and alert, utilize her instrumental methods of survival and stave back the urges to fall back into indolent stupor---Bucky wouldn't abandon her---no, he loved her to his dying breath, and that filled her with resolve to fight against the pernicious curse.

Turning her large head, with caustic motion, Selina gazed intently at him standing in the stairwell, his shadowed countenance revealing barest desperation as he spoke in a low, graveled rasp in the iPhone clutched within the unshakeable grasp of his metallic hands. "What are we going to do, Buck," she whispered shakily, lowering her muzzle down as errant tears dampened her fur. Thralls of heartache weren't something she could escape, the constant throbs were bone-deep, making her feel shackled to an infinite nightmare, as if the hand of fate pressed a cold steel of an atomizer against her heart, firing blank shots, that left her stunned to dare herself to budge.

She couldn't sedate her rampant pulse, as she watched Bucky falter in his steps. How far was the limit of his devotion to her...Could the extent of their love remain harbored against the hurricane of the harrowing enchantment threatening to consume their world? Stomping a hoof down, frustratingly, she bellowed out."Damn it, how can you even love me like this..."

Selina's conflicted tone carried across the small distance and entered Bucky's sharp-hearing. An increase in stress and anxiety grasped him as he felt torn between the dread of their predicament and the frantic conversation he was now holding with a very confused Steve Rogers. Though he could detect the uncertainty in his best friend's tone, Bucky was more than thankful that Steve wasn't one to waste time with questions when he sensed there was a perilous situation. "We'll be in the alley outside the café." A cold reminder moved down his spine and he repressed a shiver as he recalled the witch's warning. "I'll explain later. Just please don't call anyone else, Steve." And with that, Bucky hung up and made his way over to the bovine beside the wall. Her words hung between them, making him feel as if he were treading across a slippery-edge that could lead him into a downward spiral if he wasn't careful. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling now, both in body and mind, but what he did know was this was what the witch would want—for her to feel doubt, towards him and herself. Though it probably wasn't a good idea, he tried to bring a bit of levity to ease her gloomy spirit. "I've loved you in way more unexpected situations than this, darlin'. Some might've called me crazy for it. Its gonna take more than a change in appearance to drive me away." He smiled boyishly, though to himself it felt like a grimace at his lame attempt at humor. He inwardly prepared himself for the stinging sensation of a headbutt in response.

Against his dumbfounded reaction that painfully etched into his chiseled, stubbled cheeks, Selina quashed down the stokes of abraded hostility--kitty aggression-- and clenched her furred muzzle into a grimace. Snorting out an irritable breath, she tilted the broad expanse of her shoulder against the wall; rigidly flicking her tail with a tangible, passive sway, and stared into the glacial coolness of his soulful steel-blue eyes, finding a phantom cast of anguish that he tenaciously masked against the wage of neurotic emotions that ravaged his senses. "So I guess this is how it's gonna be," she paused in a tart breath, flitting her dark eyes piercingly down at the projection of her bulky shadow."Never thought I'd be walking in dark in big girl steps, but don't think for a second I'll be sleeping in a stinky barn," A play of snark chased her deepening bellow, as she rolled back her shoulders, nonchalantly." A girl's got her standards for living, handsome..."

"Hey…" Bucky interrupted her quietly, a clenching in his chest threatening to pull him into a diminished state where he could do nothing except succumb to panic. The warm softness of his calloused digits threaded through her mane of dark strands, resuming his comforting ministrations. It helped not only her but also himself. "This isn't gonna be permanent, darlin'," he said determinedly, relying on the strength he felt in his own words to keep him focused. "We'll find a way…" A lump of emotion in his throat nearly challenged his composure. His eyes moistened, threatening to spill a revelation of fear and turmoil. "I promise you, I won't stop until we do." He remembered Natalia once telling him—telling Steve—to never make a girl a promise you couldn't keep. This was one promise he wouldn't make lightly. The witch's face flashed in his thoughts—gothic, twisted and insane. A flicker of red and he saw the massive grip of his metallic digits around her throat. Hugging the bovine close, he plants a soft kiss on her brow. "We'll find a way."

Every instinct clamored to seize control over her, as Selina closed her eyes once she registered the softened pressure of his full-widened lips smoothing a heady trace of sensual ache over her fur; despite the obese shape rounding her girth, entranced ad nearly off balance on her hooves, she felt a ignited blaze of heightened desire tugging relentlessly at her fractured heart, urging her captive soul inside to finally answer his unbreakable vow that melded into her feverish veins. "I know we will, James," she murmured in a low rumble, nuzzling her head lovingly against the hardened planes of his broad chest, not creating a space of distance from him. Nothing cooled between them. "Just don't leave my side, no matter what happens after this damn night..."

A sad smile crept onto Bucky's boyishly handsome features, making him appear older than his physical years revealed. The weariness in his eyes revealed a withered soldier within being called into battle once again, but with a steady posture and an unrelenting spirit. The warmth in his chest sweltered into a burning heat of passion as he gazed into the swirling depths of coffee-brown orbs. The devotion he revealed was unshakable and affirming. "You know I won't, darlin'. I'm with you till the end." It was a promise he never made lightly to anyone he considered family. As a man of strength, love and loyalty, he would fight to fulfill that vow no matter what was in store. Before he could say more, both he and Selina are alerted to an increasing roar of an engine coming around the corner of the alley. An approaching vehicle. Bucky was standing fully erect in an instant, his posture protective as he shielded the bovine from whomever was coming. He could detect her unease as he felt her press her weight as firmly against the brick wall of the building, making herself as small as possible. "Just stand behind me, darlin'."

“Easy, Selina.” Bucky admonished gently, trying to calm her distress. Where there was tension moments ago in Bucky’s shoulders, the rigidness of his posture melted away into a more relaxed standing. The sudden shift in his mood and demeanor did little to calm her, but it made her realize that whoever he was talking to moments ago had just arrived in record time. The black unmarked van backed up towards them slowly, the wheels disturbing small puddles of melted snow that clung to its surface. The rumbling of the engine dimmed until the vehicle came to a complete stop a few feet in front of them. The van was large, big enough to fit a size-able shipment…or a cow.

“Its gonna be all right,” he said to her, giving another reassuring rub at the back of her neck to soothe her. The driver door to the van opened and a tall shape emerged from around the corner. Dressed in loose yet stylish blue-jeans with a thermal jacket secured over a broad and muscular torso stood Steve Rogers. Bucky released a breath of relief once he saw his best friend who regarded both him and the cow behind him with a leisurely look. “Thanks for being quick, Steve.” Bucky said with a grateful look.

“Just be glad I wasn’t too far away from a rental service and they had a van up for lease,” Steve returned with a soft shrug, hands hanging loosely at his side as he took in the scene in front of him with an assessing gaze. The soldier-like discipline he innately carried rubbed off on Bucky who felt a measure of strength return to his weary mind. Steve chanced a glance at the mahogany furred bovine standing behind his best friend. Were it not for the shredded pieces of black dress clinging to her furry back, he would have never guessed anything usual about her nor that she was in fact actually a human. “You all right, Miss Kyle?” He asked, remarkably calm yet inside he felt a twinge of uncertainty if the cow could even respond to him.

With her jutting ears twitching reactively to the stern utterance of his baritone, Selina glared at him guardingly, keeping herself distant in collective poise as Steve measured his approach to them, gingerly his paces cautious and tentative with smooth precision in his footing. The vigilant depth of his cool azure eyes never wavered against the molten intensity of her glaring coffee irises.

For  the last few years, the solid ground between her and Steve Rogers was tenuous on a hairbreadth to the gravity of dependence; for Bucky, she adapted to his adamant--virtuous presence, genuine light resonated within his unyielding Brooklyn spirit, no shades of darkness glinted in his serene azure eyes --he was the real article--a true knight in shining armor when it came to protecting a dame, something she always evaded. Tonight would be no different. Lifting her muzzle up, indifferently, she responded with a strained grimace as he mirrored her gouging stare."You just had to ask, huh, soldier boy?" she snorted, challengingly. "How do you think I feel?"

Steve had the decency to look a bit sheepish once he realized how his own question must've sounded. His surprise over the bovine's ability to communicate verbally lasted a mere second before he schooled his features into something more somber yet idealistic at the same time. "Not too happy, I imagine. I'm sorry your evening was ruined. Though I'm sure you don't need it, I want you to know I'm ready to help you in whatever way I can. Starting with getting you somewhere safe." His words carried all the passion and loyalty one would expect from the Star-Spangled Avenger despite the fact he no longer carried that mantle. "Do you have a place in mind, Steve?" Bucky asked worriedly. Despite how fast things were moving, he felt bitter with himself for neglecting to consider that crucial detail. He couldn't exactly take Selina back to their studio apartment in Midtown, nor to the Avengers compound where the witch would likely suspect foul-play on his part—and the last thing he wanted was to ask Stark for help. Even if he did, magic wasn't something the proud scientist wasn't very capable of assisting against. "There's a few safe-houses outside of Queens, but you're likely to still keep a low-profile. Anything less than a completely isolated patch of land won't offer much security from prying eyes." Steve shrugged while opening the back-doors to the van.

"No, there's only one place that can offer what this big girl needs," Selina interjected, tartly against clenched teeth, harnessing her furtive tactics of using her innate mastery of stealth and deception to gain sanctuary from the intersecting crosshairs. She needed to broaden her horizons, a dank reeking safe-house residence in Queens wouldn't effectively conceal a 3-ton bovine, they needed to go off the grid-vanish from plain sight. A maelstrom of the unknown-mobilizing threats would ensnare them, HYDRA might reactivate sleeper operator nests for instant termination of a kill shot; she wouldn't jeopardize Bucky's life against those inevitable odds of the survival gambit. Isolation was the only clearheaded outlet to use. Determingly, and with her salvaged brazen defiance, she trotted closer to the van's wheelchair ramp that electronically descended over mounds of slush, against a knot of feverish tension, Selina composed out a cool breath, her jeweled bronze irises cast a mirroring gaze into Bucky's dismal steel-aquamarine deeps, tellingly gleaming with an arduous sheen of unshed tears under his disheveled brunette tresses. His eyebrows furrowing into a notch, as his metallic hand graced her back with a rhythmic caress, holding promising intent. "Let's just say an old friend from the past won't be hesitant to open his door if Barnes agrees to drink earl gray tea..." she whispered, coaxingly."It's the only place in Gotham that I call safe..."

Bucky felt his stomach twist in an uncomfortable way, but it was a smaller thing compared to the dread he felt at the possibility of Selina being discovered by unwanted eyes. Cattle weren't welcome in the city, not even in the suburbia neighborhoods outside of it, so the odds of a local spotting him sheltering a bovine cow beneath his roof and contacting a city inspector or animal control were high and risky. It was the last thing she needed to worry about right. As a moment of silence passed and his steel-blue eyes remained linked to her peering brown orbs, he felt a shift in his resolve and nodded to her in understanding. Her cryptic words were lost on Steve but one glance at Bucky told him that his friend knew exactly what Selina was referring to. His own thoughts and concerns on the matter were similar to theirs in that a 500 plus pound bovine couldn't be kept in the city. His first thoughts were to reach out to Clint who owned five acres of land out in the country, but Bucky was adamant about keeping the other Avengers out of this. He didn't know much about Selina's Kyle's past, but wagered that Gotham had a lot to do with it. "Then Gotham it is. Shouldn't be a long drive through Jersey; we should reach the bridge by morning depending on the traffic." Steve offered. "You ready?" He asked Selina as she stood just in front of the ramp that led to a long and empty interior where the only seats belong to the driver and passenger in the front.

Nodding tersely, Selina sucked back a long and tortured breath, and with steady effort, her frontal hooves breached the ramp's edge, her dark coffee irises roved an aching glance at Bucky, as he inched back with faltering steps, giving her room to climb up. For a tantalizing moment, they were locked into the other's unblinking gazes, pained racked through her heart; she was paralyzed by the sudden detachment, a sickening coldness that slashed against her bones. With a subtle nudge of her muzzle against the chilled alloy of his cybertronic hand, and relishing the voltaic charge of that intimate contact, she implored him to follow her inside the van. "Don't be shy handsome, I'm not that big yet...

Despite the gloom of the situation that hung over him like a dreary rain-cloud, Bucky smiled softly at her quip and found the urge to caress the side of her furry cheek with the back of his metallic digits. "I don't think you ever will be "that big", darlin'. Not for me anyway," Bucky responded while guiding her into the van. Steve smiled to himself as he watched them. Bucky and Selina's combined weight caused the vehicle to groan ever slightly. The smell of polished leather and new-car smell permeated their senses but they were both thankful to be safely concealed and out of the bitter cold. The backdoors closed soundly as Steve made his way to the driver's seat. "Gonna be a few hours. I'd get some rest you guys," Steve suggested, setting the van into drive and pulling into traffic. Bucky and Selina remained in the back. The floor of the van was carpeted, allowing Selina to settle down onto her side comfortably with Bucky beside her. "Relax, Lina. I'm right here," Bucky whispered to her, sitting of the van with his back pressed against the door so her head could rest comfortably on his knee. Idly, his finger caressed and rubbed the area near her muzzle in a lulling fashion, meant to coax her into rest. "I'm not going anywhere."

There were no other words to express how Selina felt when the graveled softness of his suave-hushed undertone unwaveringly carried back to her twitching ears and melted in her veins like sonorous decadent chocolate, smoothly anchoring her back to a steady tide against the sorcerous tumult. She was straying further away in thralls of careening heartache, the merciless curse wouldn't avail, and she knew that in the coming days, Bucky would lose her--forever. She couldn't live without him, not her handsome beast machine. At first, she didn't respond as she nipped on the leathery swell of her deformed lip, burying her muzzle vehemently into the material his Armani shirt, breathing in the virile scent of smoky timber and iced mint that fluidly pacified her anguished soul into a stupor of contentment. "Don’t worry, handsome,  I'll keep fighting this damn spell..."

Offering him a kittenish smile with the radiance of an eternal promise that melded with the glacial depth of his grayish-aquamarine holding silver flame of their vitality; she began licking his flesh hand lovingly with the heated dampness of her swelled tongue, as his metallic hand softly kneaded over the bulging shape of her belly, their unbreakable love engulfed-infused them to salvage onto the reins of hope...Somehow they would dance again in the existence they were meant to live, for now, Selina rested her large head down on the harden sculpt of his thigh, and closed her eyes, as he continued to embrace her new form with each adjusting touch that chased her heartbeat —he never stopped. 

The gleams of dawn pierced over pink tinge cloud banks over the awakening horizon, light flurrying snow dusted over the glass panes of the van's tinted windows, grunting out stifled breaths; her throat felt exhaustingly scraped raw against the feverish sickness eeling through her veins. As the ensued maniacal echoes of bone-chilling laugher that resonated from the darkened alleys of the Narrows, the ambiance of death never faded out, crazed demons still existed in the cells of Arkham, blood was an interminable color for murderers to paint. Terror breached steeled hearts. Gotham City wasn't a place of refuge against the storms, it was a nether labyrinth of resurrected carnage and soul harvesting collectors-nightmare row, where childhood innocence was brutally tested by the grounds of survival or the fatal caress of a gun. Selina didn't want Bucky or Steve to glance beyond the city's industrial facade, become captives of rapacious cimmerian wickedness lured them to the edge of sanity of the lunatic fringe.

Registering the light caressing warmly over her mahogany fur, Selina opened her eyes, stubbornly the wake of venomous sorcery was penetrating deeper like a scorpion's sting, she was beyond the mounting control of her bovine form. Her damnable spirit was a hostage against the bounds of an occultic enchantment.

Seething under her breath, Selina gazed irately out the back window as her dark jeweled orbs became fixed piercingly on the intimating expanse of shadow that belonged to an enormous mansion that haunted her in the fringe of her dreams-Wayne Manor- an Elizabethan renaissance castle -like domain that was facade sculpted with strikingly Gothic marble with pike edged spires that were mounted over each of fours tower, high lancet arched windows and laden with columned terraces, a ghostly aura emanated from the cold stone edifice- desolate and unwelcoming.

Banishing her blaze of dredged revulsion, Selina felt her larger bulk faintly tensing at the sight of mansion's visage with an implosion of aversion, her thoughts suddenly traced the route to the manor's front gates, beset by flawless verdant lanes and the rocky cliffs that peaked against Gotham Bay. Against the careening recollections, Selina forgot how much she detested the Wayne dynasty fortune-old money gone to waste.

Berating herself for dealing with sleazy scum like Roland Dagger to get a chance to steal a new identity with the Clean Slate program-freedom at her kitty paws, to efface her past wickedness and steer her towards a new road to take, even if her demons were buried beneath the fault lines...The safeguards of her deviant heart weren't uncrackable went sentiment left her in the crosshairs, she craved for the breakneck thrill of danger, almost like a fix of escasty, an intimate pleasure that she wielded by the devious measure of her own control and the seductive play of her arsenal.

She was dead inside with the infective compulsion to rob from the wealthy; stealthily prowling the desolate streets of Gotham with the innate elusiveness of feline prowess, her curvaceous and sleek body cut into shadows with fluid precision and lethal intent, like an untouchable sliheoute on the razor's edge of a darkening existence, her blood was cold to the warmth of humanity. She ravished so many lives by pulling the trigger by the compliance of her sadistic and callous handlers that caged her like a rabid little kitten for their survival game- an instrumental and practical thief with a vengeful reckoning.

Now, Selina was enmeshed in the tumult borderline of mortal existence, being infinitely stagnated into enslaving thralls of dormant instincts-how long would she reject the urges to graze on clumps of grass, entreat to become fattened with a calf and comply to the intrusive dominance of a bull... The extent of this unprecedented attack it wasn't the League of Shadows or HYDRA, this cryptic mage desired to push Bucky's love for her to the limit, make him duel with his own heart against the dark undercurrents of fiendish sorcery rippling between them. She knew that Bucky's hellbent Brooklyn spirit would relentlessly dare the impossible to restore her-no what the high cost of their eternal love would be.

Feeling a smirk curve knowingly over her muzzle, Selina became tantalized against the contrast fusion of telltale heat radiating from rigid heaviness of Bucky corded muscles, as she felt the voltaic coldness of his metallic palm tenderly stroked reverent-possessive caresses over the swelled width of her furred girth ; the controlled delicacy of his glides were sensually fueled by his unbreakable devotion to her.

Relishing the serenity of the grounded moment, Selina grunted in an intenser resonance of a moo, as she drove her dark irises on Bucky, he was slumped against the van's doors, his body was still, dark tresses of unkempt chestnut hung messily askew over his eyes, and ghosted against his nose, the heavy set of his dimpled, bristled chin, slack with a vibrant grace of boyish youth aglow on his skin. The smooth, hard planes of his cheekbones were intensely defined with the sharpness of a knife's edge under a layer of chubbiness.

Her drifting gaze fell onto the beckoning virile softness of his shapely-wide lips, the bowing arch slackened to the pain resonating deep inside him. His roguishly handsome visage became achingly torturous for her capture with the ardent heat of melding kiss that always infused the decadent cadence of their bodies to surrender against the escalating firestorm of unstoppable-boneless passion. The emblazon desire to kiss him breathless roared through her veins, unrestrainedly, as she reeled back with a jerking thrust of her head against the clamoring urgency. "I guess bad girls can't win..."

Staving off the feverish urge to release tears, Selina felt her breath being choked by a flaring sob when she maddeningly caught a flash of inducing agony etched starkly over his hawkishly chiseled, stubbled features. Painstakingly against the impending gravity of the malicious curse, she nuzzled his shoulder with an effortless nudge of her muzzle, anchoring him back to her with a semblance of calmness ghosting over the bugled curves of his sleek muscles. A shivery cascade of thermal heat traced her pulse to a steady tempo as she felt him intimately breathe out a gravelly rumble against her fur. "James..." she imploringly murmured in hushed grated timbre. "It's going to be alright, handsome...Remember that I'm adaptable."

The deeper timbre of her voice was unsettling at first to anyone who knew what it should sound like. The sleeping Bucky flinched slightly as if he were jostled by an unsuspecting intrusion that could have an ill-effect on him. His eyelids peeled open before squeezing shut involuntarily to acclimate to the pale light streaking into the back of the panel van from the windshield. “Lina…” He slurred with a sleepy voice that was followed by a grimace once he felt a jolting ache move up his back. He really shouldn’t have fallen asleep sitting up. The painful reminder triggered his memories of the night before; Valentine’s Day, the dinner, the tension, the food, the shady waitress…the dark magic. His eyes snapped open, hoping desperately the nightmarish memory of Selina turning into a farm-cow was exactly just that: a nightmare. One of many added to the sea of trauma and darkness within his subconscious.

But sure enough, the alarming and heavy sensation of a warm and furry weight resting in his lap whisked away any doubt he might’ve had and cold reality shrouded him in its chilling embrace. Selina was in fact turned into a bovine. Gone were the unrecognizable curves that a slender athlete embodied, covered with creamy alabaster skin that smelled of lavender. In their place were patches of thick mahogany colored fur, coating hard muscle and fat that would’ve weighed a ton were it not for his own considerable strength to support her form. “…Sleep good, darlin?” He tried, uncertain of what to say that wouldn’t trigger an unfavorable response.  

Hearing the murmurous timbre of his croaky undertone, Selina rigidly deflected against that wary venture assailing in his voice, they evoked a revelatory--splintering throb of soul-deep heartache; she wasn't prepared for inexplicable morning ahead of them, she didn't want Bucky to sugar coat his reaction towards her cursive bovine form with a flux play of his wide-- charmingly boyish smile that would jovially accentuate the deep crow feet lines that carved deeper around his grayish-aquamarine eyes; instead she drove a heated glance at her block-sized hooves.

A feverish shiver of knifing pain careened through the voluminous expanse of her girth as Selina dismissively tore her head away from his tentative reach as his metallic palm deftly lifted bring a wake of intimate stillness between them. A shallow pant of breath scorched her throat when she clenched her muzzle tautly. “Don’t even start with that, handsome,” she gritted, trenchantly, her bronze orbs flashed with vehement intensity. that held the breadth of her warring emotions.

“You can’t possibly understand what the hell I’m going through, Bucky, this isn’t a damn game of smoke and mirrors, I feel so disgusting in this body,” She froze against the crushing gravity, meeting the glacial cast of reserved ache rippling in the steadiness of his piercing cerulean irises, a unfeigned telltale anguish that arrested the depths of restraint, as she sniffled, futilely trying to force back a blurring swells of unreleased tears. “How can you even look at me…" She scrunched her muzzle up with ill-defined revulsion, fighting to deter a stray tear. "I’m not exactly the kind of pretty dame for a Brooklyn boy to wake up to…”

"Lina…" For a long and dreadful pause, Bucky felt as if he were frozen in a state of shock and uncertainty. It was a feeling he seldom experienced but also one he dreaded like heading into a warzone unprepared for what may lie ahead. The ache in his back was forgotten as a new feeling of discomfort washed over him. He felt as if he were pinned to the door of the van by the bovine's piercing brown orbs, swimming with vulnerability; as if life and death weighed heavily upon his answer. "Don't think that way," he said with a shrug. Though there was a part of him that felt exasperated by her trademark scorn and sarcasm, he wasn't eager to let things escalate into a heated argument that would only make things harder. Though if he were honest with himself, he felt remorse that her words made him ponder too long for comfort. The cow in front of him bore no resemblance to the woman he loved, and were it not for the deep brown of her eyes, he wasn't sure if he could find some familiarity to latch onto. He both hated himself and the witch that had done this to Selina. "Look I know this is hard…harder than I could possibly imagine," he said with a steady tone. "But we just gotta keep focus and beat this." Once again, he relied on his soldier-like discipline to face this unprecedented situation. He almost cringed at his own words and their surgical delivery. Selina didn't need a soldier, she needed the man she loved to help her through this.

Grounding herself against the undisguised tension mounting between them like drawn blades warring to thrust against their hearts, Selina's indignant countenance hardened nauseatingly, alarmed by her reluctance, she felt utterly sickened against the telltale anguish that flashed increasingly in the stillness of his pupils.Traitorious resistance became combined with an infused reaction that she couldn't suppress back. A railing scream was threatening to erupt, as hostile stokes of aggression viciously seized her graceful poise. "How do you expect me to pretend like nothing has happened?" she grunted in a terse breath, angling her furred muzzle up defensively as grayish light reflected in her dark irises, heartache was evident in her contemptuous glare. "You can't even look at me the same...I know you're trying to make it work, but handsome, you need to give this big girl some walking space."

A spike of apprehension moved through Bucky as he detected her increasing agitation. Despite his effort to pacify and soothe Selina’s turmoil, he knew this wasn’t just a delicate matter but an impossible one for her to brush off. Not that he’d blame her, he wasn’t sure he could do any better in her situation. A jolt of anticipation and dread hit him as he recalled his agreement with the witch. That if he should fail to prove his love for Selina was undying and true, he would be degraded and turned into a tub of pork and bacon. He hated told Selina about that yet, he didn’t need to add more worry to what she already carried. Though his concern remained for Selina’s well-being, Bucky could feel a toll weighing down on himself as he released a shrug of exasperation.

“I know, Selina. I just wan—” It was at that moment, the back doors to the van opened, letting daylight flood the interior. Bucky winced slightly before his eyes quickly became acclimated to the change in brightness and the sight of Steve standing expectantly in front of them.

“We’re here. You guys ready?” The blonde asked glancing between his best friend and the bovine, still showing no hint of oddity despite the situation. Bucky wasn’t sure how annoyed Selina felt at that, but he couldn’t help but feel grateful to his friend’s sense of timing.

“To stretch my legs? Yeah.” Bucky shrugs, climbing out of the van until his feet settle onto a small grabble path that led to a driveway up ahead. The skies were gray and the land was clear. A meter ahead, stood the incredible gothic-Victorian architecture that was Wayne Manor. It was a place he’d never been too but had been curious after hearing Selina’s stories about it. “Ready, darlin’?” He asked her hopefully.

"Yeah, don't expect me to give you, soldier boys, a tour…" Selina gritted her teeth, snarkily, conveying her incensed resolve to advance towards the heart of the Wayne family estate, the vast-bucolic landscape was coated with fresh morning snow. Poking her large head out behind a door, her dark bronze irises intently drifted to marble stone steps of the front entrance, a phantom chill invasively penetrated through her layers of thickened mahogany fur. She grimaced against the vacancy of inviting warmth–even when she brazenly infiltrated at the Harvey Dent Day celebration, practically guised in the charade of a gawky maid with a semblance of delicate grace; each level was haunted by apparitions remorseless-irreversible grief that was spawned when Thomas and Martha Wayne had been gun down in Crime Alley. Gotham was a never-ending hell-pit of morbid strife and bloodshed.

The refined-wellborn mansion itself was like an abandoned gravestone, cold and etched with unrest memories-a desolate sanctuary for those who salvaged their redemption. Against the adhesion of concussive heartache, Selina harnessed a resurge of steeled momentum and swiftly eased her massive weight off the van's carpeted floor, spreading her broaden legs out as she boldly challenged the limits of testable gravity cementing down the hefty expanse of her fattening body.

Composing a terse breath, vexatiously, Selina braced herself against the feverish rush, before rearing her bulging girth up, trying not to focus on the revulsive, heated pressure of her swelled utter while she dragged her frontal hooves in sluggish unison, reaching for Bucky's unshakeable metallic hand waiting to anchor her out, Bucky had was being unfailingly charming and ever constant with his genuine devotion, gleams of dawn’s light flitted through his lenghy, unkempt chestnut tresses as boyish softness crossed over the hardened planes of his stubbled, knife-edged features, making the striking depth of his steel-blue ireses alight with glacial intensity of a winter tempest over a becalm ocean; she craved to see the lethal menace of the beast machine split his pupils like lightning. Bucky was still fashionably garbed in his ripped Armani suit. The full arch of his shapely lips slanted into a downhearted smile. The soul-crushing weight of an impending reality of their love being induced by the beset curse was suffocatingly torturous for both of them. "This is going to be so much fun..." she played out with a derisive snort, frosted with contempt.

“Hopefully things will stay quiet till we sort this all out,” Bucky shrugged while absently rubbing the back of Selina’s neck to reassure her. He was instantly aware of her pinned gaze looking at him as if to say, “when have we ever been that lucky?” He smiled tightly at that and couldn’t help but wonder the same. They were anything but lucky to elude danger even when it seemed they were surrounded by a heightened state-of-security. His narrowed blue eyes scoped the exterior of the manner, mentally mapping its layout into his tactical mind for any points entry as well as exits in the event of an assault. Not an easy observation from the looks of it, the manor seemed to have well over a dozen rooms on the first floor alone.

“You two stay here, I’m gonna see who’s home.” Steve cautioned before making his way up the drive-way and towards the path leading to the steps of the manor house. Bucky instantly regretted him leaving as the tension he felt in the van moments ago returned swiftly as he and Selina were left to a gloomy silence. The weight of their conversation hung on their shoulders and for a moment, neither of them said anything in hopes of not returning to it so quickly. Instead, Bucky’s thoughts turned towards the house and its surprisingly unmentioned owner.

“Is…” He bit his tongue with uncertainty, knowing that it was a delicate subject for Selina as was most of her connected past to Gotham. She and Bruce Wayne had a complicated history and relationship that withered before it could actually flourish into something meaningful. Though Bucky had never met the man, he wasn’t sure how he would take to their presence here, and seeing Selina in the state she was now in. When it became evident Selina noticed his hesitation, he decided to be direct and ask. “Do you think Wayne will have a problem with us here? When’s the last time you saw him?”

"I'm not really sure, last time I saw, Gotham’ down and broke billionaire was in Florence and it's wasn't thrilling as I wanted it to be...We both came from shades of darkness, but he didn't want to play the game of shadow play anymore...Besides he didn't like girls having guns around... To make it simple, Wayne wasn't a very dance partner to engage a dance with...Unlike this charming Brooklyn boy, I know who can really kill it on the floor."

"You can sure make a guy feel special, darlin'." Bucky smirked at her choice of words. Though he was genuinely touched by her words, a shrivel of unease lingered inside of him as he considered the prospect of coming face-to-face with one of Selina's exes. He didn't know Bruce Wayne, nor had he heard much about him save for tidbits of information collected from his conversations with Selina and the various news articles he'd glanced through. He was presumed dead and his estate was passed onto his guardian and caretaker but even that was a lie according to Selina. Bucky had always sensed there was more to the man than what the world knew, but he never questioned it. Perhaps now he might get some answers. As Steve stood in front of the lavish double-doors to the immaculate estate, he mentally prepared himself for the rather incredulous story he'd have to regale whoever answered. A calloused thumb pressed against the doorbell and listened to the gentle chiming inside that reminded him of an old tea-shop he once visited during his time abroad. He waited patiently for a moment, wondering just like Bucky, what kind of man he'd be dealing with given Kyle had been short on the details. Just when he considered ringing the bell again, he paused at the sound of the lock unlatching and the door opening. To his surprise he was met by an old man who looked aristocratic and proper as if he had opened this door a thousand times and never missed a step in his routine. Kind yet curious gray eyes settled onto him with a pale light that spoke of untold worry and grief but also an unshakable strength that wouldn't yield to despair. A strange feeling enveloped Steve as he stared at the old man, speechless yet deep in thought as if he knew him from somewhere. "Uh. Hello," he began good-naturedly.