@batsie: we were friends, weren't we?
no, she wants to say, just to be contrary. it lingers in her mouth like a bad taste, spiteful and furious. you left me, she wants to say. wants to utilize those new gloves of hers and claw at his eyes. you fucking left me here.
but it would be a lie. because they were friends. he might have been her first friend, even. before she'd found ivy dying in a gutter and taken her to barbara's nice apartment, before she'd even started to hang around bridgit, there had been him. the wayne boy with the nice hair and the sad eyes and the scream that still haunts her, sometimes, in her dreams. and now -- now ivy's a different person, cold and cruel in a way that even selina isn't, watching plants spill from corpses' mouths and smiling about it; now bridgit's lost herself to the thrill of the flames, to the power of it, and selina can't pretend she doesn't understand not wanting to be the hurt little girl anymore but bridgit's gone somewhere she can't follow: point is, now selina doesn't have any friends left. she has a mask and a name -- catwoman -- and thousands of dollars in diamonds in the pouch at her hip. that has to be enough.
gotham's night air is cool against her skin and she pulls off her mask -- there's no point for it, here, on this rooftop. he sees her. he's always seen her -- that's the worst thing about bruce fucking wayne. he's always been so gddamn hard to lie to.
"there you go, bringing up the past again," she says, and hates -- hates -- how hurt she sounds, under the forced calm of her tone. lets her eyes flick over him, in that ridiculous batsuit. meets his eyes, defiant. "yeah, bruce. we were friends. but that was a long time ago."
how fast can she make it to the opposite rooftop, if she chooses to run? and, perhaps the more pertinent question -- will he give chase?
"what do you want?"