Batman and Catwoman: Crime Comic? or Romance Novel?

Dream

Back at the cave, Batman stepped out of the tumbler, greeted by Alfred. Oh boy, here we go. The Dark Knight braced himself for his butler's remarks on his conversation with the cat burglar. He removed his cowl to reveal the prince of the city, shaking his head to set his wavy, clean cut, jet black hair into place.

"Have a riveting evening tonight, did we?" Alfred said with an obvious smirk on his face and in his tone.

"Drop it Alfred." Bruce replied, half annoyed.

"She is an interesting creature, Master Bruce. Has more brains than the average criminal, and skill just shy of your own if I may say so."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to set me up with a criminal," Bruce snorted.

"At your rate, I'd set you up with a chimpanzee. Plus, she seems more *cough* interested in the Dark Knight."

"That is a life for neither of me," Bruce sadly whispered to himself.

He replied going up the steps to the activity room, appearing from behind the bookshelf. He went up to his room to shower and kept the night rerunning in his mind. The guts in that woman. The billionaire stood under the showers in his master bathroom, grateful for such after coming home from an exhausting night of crime fighting. I send off grown men running, quivering not of the cold, but of my fear. And then there she is, the audacity to look me in the ey-. He flinched as pumping hot water hit his wounds, new and old, cutting him from his thoughts. He quickly finished and wrapped a towel on his lower half, running his hands through his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom to get a change of clothes.

Behind and the scabs and scars, the boy billionaire had a body worthy of the attention Bruce's apparent character brought him. Broad shoulders with at least three mounds on each bicep, connecting to an equally broad and strong chest. Above his sternum started rows of abs, four on each side, an eight pack, running all the way down his torso, ending in a muscled "v" shape going below his towel. He covered them with a private school boy's navy blue turtle neck, with a pair of black pants, with navy blue socks following after. He towel dried and slicked back his hair and made his way down to the family kitchen to have dinner with Alfred.

"You know, I still haven't given up on you. Never have, and never will till I'm in service," the butler said when Bruce entered the kitchen.

"Thank you, Alfred. You know, despite my attitude, you're the only family I have left. I'm grateful you're still here. Are we not having dinner tonight?" he asked, after noticing no preparation being made for dinner.

"Your aunt Leslie called, insisted I send you over to hers for dinner tonight. No formality, so your current outfit should be ok. The staff's not here, so I would suggest you go over to hers."

"So, the Rolls Royce then?" he asked, half teasingly. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"As long as you bring it back with a-"

"A full tank. Got it." Bruce finished his sentence, chuckling to himself, appreciating the innocence in his butler.

"Alright then, good night, Master Bruce"

"Good night, Alfred. See you in the morning." Bruce bid goodbye to his butler, picking up the keys from their basin by the entrance, not knowing what awaited him tonight at Dr. Leslie Tompkins' penthouse in upper Gotham.