2012-10-18 He Is Batman

There are very few people Selina actually allows herself to reach out to, a scant three... maybe four people at the most. Several are acquaintances and one is someone she has let in close enough to consider a close friend, but there's only one person she thinks to turn to tonight when a bout of depression set in. Her phone is picked up and she scans through her list, the various names scrolled through until Bruce's comes up. Taking a deep breath, she sends a text, the hope that she isn't going to sound desperate hitting as she types:

Bruce - I need you. Please come by tonight.

That done, she goes into the kitchen, prepares herself a cup of green tea, and then curls into a chair.

It's one of the things they have in common-- though the way Alfred would tell it, nine times out of ten, it's him who winds up dealing with Bruce's depressive or destructive periods. Bruce would just assume tell you he doesn't have such fugues at all. It's a busy time for the Dark Knight-- jet setting in Gotham turned into a terrorist plot that may trump everything currently afoot in Gotham, but he can hardly ignore the peril of a missing child, either... or superpowered extremists from underneath the sea getting their hands on an artifact of unknown potential, but obvious importance.

Some men go rather above and beyond the call of duty to make sure the world.. exists, after the night passes, even if it means rushing from place to place, running on less sleep than most people would consider tackling a day job on; even if it means stopping to break up a drug war in the making in the worst, poorest, most violent part of town on the way from one emergency to the next. That's why it takes him some time, Selina's tea would be cold by the time her balcony doors swing inward-- making noise likely only because Batman wants them to.

When Batman enters Selina looks up, just about to take a sip when she hears his footfall. Her expression is wry - a slight smile and a brow that's arched some - but it's also welcoming. "You have a good sense of timing," she says while the large mug is set aside and she gets to her feet, the latter action taking a bit of effort as sitting caused her injured leg to seize up on her. When she approaches the darkly clad vigilante it's with a limp to her gait, a deliberate care taken in how she shifts that limb.

When she is finally standing in front of him she lifts her chin, the thief about to place a soft kiss upon his cheek as her own way of greeting him. "I do hope you've been well," she begins with, sounding worried. She knows how much he pushes himself and, while she knows it's necessary - or at least he thinks it is - she still has a large of amount of concern for him.

The french doors are closed with a subtle 'click' behind him, once his cape has another instant to follow the Bat into the penthouse. It's easy to see when he's been 'at work', or at work too long; there's just no wasted motion, an efficient grace to every movement that borders on supernatural. It is, after all, mental acuity that allows him to operate the way he does at all. He noticed her on the periphery of the Atlantean robbery-- and trusted she would get clear of the aquatic assailants. The fight very nearly went the other way even with Aquaman's unexpected support. Even with Selina's talents in evasion and discretion, the Caped Crusader wasn't able to secure the artifact they lifted from the museum, however.

It's only one of the reasons he hasn't made it to check on her until now. "Busy." Bruce answers simply, frankly. There's no resentment in the tone-- it's direct, and clearly very true. One suited arm slips around Selina's back when she approaches, contrastingly gentle as he turns slightly to reciprocate the affectionate greeting, "Are you alright, Selina?" He has no idea the extent of her injuries, just that there seem to be some; or maybe he's picked up on the other signs of her mood, as well. Batman's voice lowers, undertoned with concerns of his own.

It really isn't often that Bruce decides to allow himself to be affectionate, especially when in the guise of the Bat, but Selina has learned to soak it up when he is if only because she'll never know when she will be gifted with another bit of it again. "I got shot while in NYC," she starts to explain, her eyes holding to his own despite the cowl he wears. "And then my first night back here I about got robbed by this... guy."

This is not going to be a short story at all, truly, and the longer Selina stays on her feet the worse the throbbing gets. A tilt of her head invites Bruce to join her while she moves towards the other part of the room herself, Selina wincing. A bottle of OTC pain killers is gotten from the coffee table as is a half-empty bottle of water, the latter then used to wash down a couple pills. "Got time to hear about the entire thing or do you need the abridged version," she asks, her voice cracking when she lowers herself onto the couch. Despite her best efforts at comfort - her sweats are so baggy there's no way they can rub her wound the wrong way - she is still hurting.

It's a passing moment-- it's more distraction than he can really afford, just now, and perhaps less than one might prefer. It makes such ties dangerous, chaotic.. exploitable. It hardly means he doesn't care if she lives or dies, or who might be after Selina as well. Then again, that's another part of the sudden return to form as she heads for the other room, and a seat. He doesn't join her, as such, standing directly at the end of her couch poised not unlike a gargoyle, still and attentive and dressed to the gills in grim. "Leaving out details just wastes my time." The Dark Knight notes, a bit more harshly than intended; and not truly directed at Selina.

"Long story." It's close to a quick apology, and the tone tangibly softer. He's not an /oblivious/ man. "I want to hear it all. What happened?" One gauntlet folds over the other, arms crossing anew as he takes a moment to survey their surroundings. It's probably not that mysterious to a thief with Selina's skills that he's doing so across numerous different visual and electronic filters.

Right. His job. The top priority in his life. At least she already knows that about him. Makes it sting less when he says something like that. A last sip of water drains the bottle Sel has in hand and set aside, a slight diversion to give herself time to think. "Okay. No preaching at me," she starts with before getting to the nitty gritty. "I was sent to NYC on a job." She doesn't look directly at him when she says that, however, not wanting to see his expression. "I was sent after a relic, was told I could snag something for myself. I went for this necklace..." She stretches, trying to give herself a chance to brace for whatever might happen, especially when she says the next part.

Next thing I know, it's several days later, I come to, naked on some stranger's floor while he's patching me up. The woman he was with said I was... a cat." Yeah, this is going from fairly typical for her to just down right surreal. Now she's looking at Bruce directly. This is when being able to gauge his reaction is important.

On the flipside, in this case his /duty/ also involves solving crimes against her, and tracking down those responsible-- it's a process that all but necessitates efficiency. Or failure. We know which of those Batman does not consider an option. Cowl eyelets narrow slightly at the initial explanation; he knows exactly what she means. The set to his jaw gets just a little sterner, but the Dark Knight remains focused. It's important to a lot of people, and right now? It's important to her. At least, that appears to be the Detective's assessment, just now.

Batman's brow furrows several more stages throughout the tale, visible mostly in the narrowing of white eyeslits-- a little ominous-- but more explicitly in the decisively pensive set to his jaw, as Batman taps his chin thoughtfully. His first response is analytical, "Hmm."

Oh goodness. That expression. That means he's not happy with her and for a moment she feels a little guilty, not exactly proud over the source of all the problems. She doesn't have a chance to try and defend her actions however as Bruce questions her too quickly, it taking the fight out of her before it even has a good chance to build up.

"I don't know about who hired me," she starts with, opting to go from the top and work her way down as she answers, "The necklace got left behind as did my costume when I changed, I got patched up by the guy who was there when I changed back so no, no doctor, nor have I seen a wizard." See, Bruce? Selina can reply just as fast as she can be asked questions of. That done, she stands again, her brow knitting. "You don't think that whatever made me change to begin with stuck, do you?" God, she does not want to be a cat again despite her love for the animals.

"I won't know without running some tests." He answers her question first, direct and matter-of-fact, with unspoken sympathy that's only somewhat lessened by the unvarnished honesty. Whether it kills the moment when the Batman draws a small automatic syringe and reinforced vial from a rear compartment in his utility belt is another question entirely. ".. possibly finding a wizard to ask, depending on the source. I take it both necklace and costume are in the wind?" It's possible that the Dark Knight is actually momentarily /amused/ at that, but it would be very hard to call him on it.

There's also a somewhat morbid undertone to the search-- after all, if it /is/ a magical artifact.. then again, "You don't remember anything at all after taking the necklace?" Someone could have attacker her, cursed or transformed her in the interim. The Dark Knight is not, however, going to waste his breath arguing about her over her trade-- again. At least not right this minute.

"And you don't know who shot you?" He pauses, just a moment. "I know a doctor who will see you, no questions." He clearly thinks she should get fixed up properly. "Even a good patch job can't compare to expertise." Even the Dark Knight admits it... sometimes. "Let me see your arm." His empty hand is offered over gently, his intent to draw a small vial of blood with a quick press of the device over a vein along the inside of her elbow.

"I am assuming the necklace is back where it belongs," Selina says with a roll of her eyes, "and that my costume is in the hands of whatever authorities it might've been handed over to." She doesn't want to think about it but with how the museum is not a small little gallery and the nature of how the theft went down her costume probably was handed over t the FBI for inspection. Not a pleasant thought.

While pushing the thought of being brought in by the Feds to the side she holds her arm out, offering it out of the trust she has for him. Yes, he could very well be seeking to arrest her himself but a part of her doesn't believe he'd do that to her. Especially in light of all that has transpired. "No, I do not remember anything between the attempted theft and the time I woke up and that includes who shot at me." That said, she watches him, curious about the small device. "If you're referring to Leslie I know her," Selina murmurs, smiling. The lady doctor is one she has known for quite a long time. "I will go and get myself looked at."

There's a small huff of breath, deep but quiet, with the news. "It's not much to go on." The Dark Knight notes, perhaps admits. He's ginger as he can be, precise and practiced taking a small sample of blood and skin with a prick from the capsule, which is subsequently tucked away in a sealed compartment in his belt before a medicated swab helps seal the wound. He holds it pressed there a moment, simply studying Selina's face. "But I'll see what I can turn up. This might tell me something." His free hand drops from her arm to pat the belt compartment, as the other offers the sterile pad to her instead. "

If not, I have some other ideas. Forward me all your files on the museum, both your target and the necklace." The Bat knows she's no slouch in her 'job'; such as it is. "And.. good. Gunshot wounds can be serious, Selina." Even along extremities, with her arteries obviously intact.. the cost in motion and rehab leaves the Dark Knight rather less than pleased with the prospect; even if he does have scars to show his own less-than-perfect record. The concern is evident, it even leads to a moment's hesitation. Then a more forceful and train of thought, "You don't even know who you were doing this for, or /why/. It could be anything. If you're wrapped up in something that hurts innocent people or crosses over with a more serious investigation, I won't have any choice, Selina." The Detective doesn't have to /like/ it. Nor does he seem to feel he has much choice in the matter-- the difference between occupation.. and duty.

The only sign that the blood taking is felt is a slight wince, a pained expression that is the only indication that Selina felt that. "You know me," she purrs playfully after taking the gauze, that then doubled up and applied to the needle site. "Since when have I ever made anything easy for you." Despite the light tone to her voice there's a slight sadness to her eyes, a twinge of conflicting emotion. Lifting a shoulder, then, she turns around when it seems like the heavy mood is about to get weighted down more.

The bottle of pain medication and the empty water bottle are picked up from where she left them and takes them into the kitchen to be put away. Or thrown away, as in the case of the latter.

Being in the kitchen acts as a buffer from Batman's next words, about how he'll have to turn her in, spares him from having to see the maelstrom of emotions as they flit across her features, her injury forgotten as is the conversation about it. "Do you really think you could catch me if I didn't want you to," she asks, her voice vaguely echoy as it bounces off tile floor and cabinets alike. "Honestly, Bruce. Do you really think you could even find me? I'm good at running away, you know." He should. She has ran from him quite often and it's probably safe to assume that the times he did catch her were when she /wanted/ to be caught. The Cat is good at what she does. "So now that we have managed to thoroughly depress me, do you want to hear about what happened the night after I got back or are we trying to get me to the point where I do great bodily harm to myself while listening to that emo crap the kids now-a-day like?"

The Dark Knight doesn't pursue Selina directly, but his words carry evenly enough to the next room. His own conflicts wrestle in more subdued manner than hers, played out clearly in the tone of her voice as it rings back to attuned ears. Alone in the other room, for just an instant, Batman out and out frowns. A steadying breath follows easily, and the Detective takes a moment to crack his neck. "If anyone could." It's hardly a hopeless statement, or flippant: maybe she'd get away, maybe she wouldn't. It doesn't appear the Bat finds -that- particular detail overly important.

"Suppose it were tied to the kidnapping of a child I'm not sure is alive or dead right now, Selina? Suppose it's the same group running surveillance with high-end encryption and an established willingness to commit murder and expertly pressure targets with blackmail?" There's a moral to the story, maybe, beyond ranting and raving in his own intense manner-- never quite yelling, but never quite /not/ yelling, either, until it fades into a deeply murmured, "I don't think it is. This time. Forget if I could catch you, Selina; doesn't matter if you could get away with every job, free as a bird, forever."

At some point the Bat fills the doorway, lowering the overall intensity level substantially as he appends, "Do you think you could live with yourself?" He knows she's not evil, not even especially greedy; as people go. He knows there are things that matter to Selina more than she likes to let on, on top of that. A hand comes up to forestall immediate answer, "You don't need to justify yourself to me." Just think about it. She /did/ say she was depressed, after all. "Tell me about the break-in. You know I'll always help you if I can." It goes for both that and the more complicated topic, implicitly.

He's right. Always is. Or at least he's more right about this kind of thing than Selina's comfortable with. Not that she doesn't put any thought into the subject but Bruce tends to see things from a different angle. Sees things in the black and white she's incapable of. "You suck," she quips without any true feeling to it, that single, two word statement not said seriously. It doesn't help her to feel better, however, not when she now has the kidnapping on her mind as well as everything else.

A swift turn to face the exit out of the kitchen about puts her face to face with Bruce, her head jerking up as she looks at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You're wrong. I always have to justify myself to you." Even if he doesn't ask her to she feels like she is required to do so as well as live up to his lofty expectations. That's not expanded upon however. She instead moves on to the last subject. "It wasn't a break-in," she starts. "This was when I was out getting Isis some more food. Some guy tried to rob me but then saved me from these other guys. They shot him but..." And now she's back at delving into weirdness and she falters.

"It's been said." comes the dry but not necessarily unsympathetic reply. Saying what people want to hear may sometimes be Bruce Wayne's way of dealing with a certain type of person, but it's far more seldom the Batman's.. nor would he try to ply Selina as if she were.. idle-minded. There's more respect between them than /that/, to say the least. A textured fingertip of the surprisingly dexterous gauntlet traces one cheek, lightly, as she steps forward.. even if the tears are restrained.

"What happened? What other guys?" As before, he tries to piece together the exact situation as clearly as he can. "Is someone after you, Selina?" It's not /completely/ out of the realm of possibility that she's just.. getting into this much trouble, though. It's not like the Dark Knight finds /less/ himself. "Details." He reminds her firmly, giving both shoulders an affirming squeeze without moving out of her way, just yet.

"No, I'm not targeted, Bruce," Selina whispers while leaning in against the finger, the way she does getting her tears to fall. "It was a random mugging attempt that then turned into a heroic... the others who wanted to rob us shot at me and he pushed me out of the way. The bullets. They passed through him." If she were scientifically-minded she might use fancy words like 'phasing' or something similar. She might even theorize that the man who wound up keeping her from becoming hole-y is a mutant. But she isn't and because of that such theories are left for other people to make.

Now done telling Bruce about her week, Selina falls quiet, not exactly sure what she should say. Can say, even.

"So he tried to rob you, you both got assaulted, and he helped protect you?" Batman confirms, just to be sure he's got that right. "What did he look like? The men that shot at you, still at large? I'll keep an ear to the ground for them, too." There's a grim sort of promise to that. It's not always easy to hunt down lone vermin in Gotham City, but like he said before; if anyone can do it..

There are a few reasons to be interested in the metahuman criminal-- from what he might do or be doing in Gotham, to his motivations in the events Selina describes. The Dark Knight is not ignorant of the volumes of desperate people city-- perhaps worldwide. "And don't worry: I'll find the girl." And save the Senator, maybe even the city's soul in time; let's not get ahead of ourselves, though. The Batman is well aware of the uphill battle he's in on all fronts. There's more to the words than rests on their face value.

"Yes, he tried to rob me and then saved me. Don't ask. It doesn't make sense to me, either." The details of Kwabena - her assailant-turned-savior - are given then although they're not too numerous. She can tell him that the man was of African descent and a few other important details, enough to perhaps give Bruce something to work on. All done, she steps in closer, seeking to embrace Bruce, not caring one lick that he has the protective suit on. "I know you will," she whispers, her voice cracking. She believes in him. She knows he'll save her and take care of whomever is responsible for the kidnapping. It's what he's good at.

He /is/ Batman.