Gotham City- once rated as America's capital of crime and the den of gangsters and supervillains alike. In the years since Batman first took up the cowl, it has fallen silent. Things feel... normal again. For many, it's the first time the city's ever felt normal. It's not perfect, sure... new eccentrics always rise up to cause havoc but the really bad ones? The Jokers and the Twofaces and the Penguins- they've all been put away.
Batman himself? He was moving on to greater things.
"So this... Justice League-'' Tim asked, scratching his neck. He had the look of a scoundrel or a pauper boy dressed in a preppy trust fund sweater-vest and slacks that ill fit the young man, "-Some kind of Superhero club? That's not really your style, Bruce."
The older man- the... much older man, picked up his cowl. The grey hairs on his chin were starting to show and he replied in a worn gravelly voice, "Not a club. Things bigger than Gotham are happening out there. Things bigger than even Earth."
"That sounds like Superman's M.O." Tim said with a shrug. He was raven haired and blue eyed, shaping up to be almost a carbon copy of his mentor. Only difference between them (and it was quite a difference indeed) had been that whereas Bruce stood just over six feet, his protege was well under average height.
"Superman needs all the help he can get." Bruce said, donning his cowl and becoming Batman, "I can't know for certain how long I'll be gone. Eventually, the criminals will get wise to it. Could be trouble."
"Well, don't you worry about that." Tim answered with a grin, "I'll be here to hold down the fort."
Batman took one long look at him and then marched on past him, leaving the younger man by the Batcave's armory. "You won't be alone." The caped crusader murmured, "This job can't be done by any one person..."
Of course, it was Tim who persuaded him of that fact in the first place. The youth turned around to follow after him when he saw, of all things, a woman standing by the batmobile.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tim called out, "Hey, uhhh, you can't be in here!"
She was... well, ravishing. A tall vixen with short black hair and the most alluring womanly figure- with wide hips and long legs. The deep plunging V of her black dress displayed her ample cleavage prominently. Tim judged her twenty or thirty, but in truth she was only a little younger than Batman. If his brooding lifestyle caused him to age prematurely, this woman's carefree antics kept her unnervingly young.
"You didn't tell him?" She asked with the smile of a woman who just learned the juiciest gossip.
"Selina." Batman gruffly said.
"Bruce." She replied with a saunter.
"Selina... Kyle?" Tim said, walking over to the two, "Catwoman? I, uh, didn't recognize you."
"Never seen me out of the suit, hm?" She laughed, "Well, can't say the same about Bruce, can we?"
"That was a long time ago." Batman murmured, walking past her as the batmobile opened up, revealing the cockpit-like front seat, "Tim, you remember my rule."
"Yeah..." The youth grumpily replied, "I can't fight any known killers. Not on my own."
"Selina's dealt with the worst of them before." The older man said, hopping into the seat, "Back before you even took up the mantle of Robin."
"Wasn't she, uh... a criminal too?" Tim scratched the back of his head, then turned to the woman, "Um, no offense!"
"None taken." She cooed. Now that they were standing together, they both noted how she stood a few inches taller than him... even without heels!
"She knows the deal." Batman said, pushing some buttons and revving up the engine, "No guns. No stealing."
The woman smiled too sweetly, dimples forming on her cheeks.
"Try to get along, you two." The older man said, sealing off the batmobile before Tim could protest any further. The circular platform rotated the vehicle away and an instant later, the afterburner kicked in and batmobile took off down the secret tunnel.
Tim sighed, "He, uh... does that a lot."
"Oh, believe me." Selina grinned, "I know."
...
...
...
"Didn't you have a butler or something?" Selina asked as Tim took her bags out of her sedan, carrying an almost comical amount of luggage.
"Alfred?" He replied, hoisting up two large bags, "He retired a few years back."
"So it's just the two of you, huh?" The woman said with a grin as she took one, and only one, bag, "No wonder Bruce was always so pent up."
"What do you mean by that?" The boy asked as they passed into the main hall of the illustrious Wayne family mansion, once completely destroyed and now since rebuilt.
"Aren't you just precious?" The woman teased. He wasn't even joking! The boy was genuinely confused, "Now that I think about it, it must be even worse for you. All those... mm, hormones!"
"I'm not some kid." He groused, "I can control myself just fine."
They marched up a long set of stairs as Tim struggled to keep her luggage from bumping up against the steps. It was indeed a lonely place, rays of light piercing through the curtains and painting the the dark interior of the manor in their pale yellow hues.
After a bit more banter and a few long hallways, they finally arrived at the western guest bedroom. The younger man had broken out into a sweat, but they managed to get it all done in one trip. He set the two bags down just feet away from the door and one of the tables shook from the impact.
"Where's your room?" Selina asked.
"Why do you want to know?" Tim shot her a suspicious glare.
"I like to cuddle at night."
He remained silent... though she could practically see the gears turning in his handsome head.
"Y'know..." She raised her eyebrows, "Like a cat?"
"Never had one." He answered, looking away from her and towards the mirror which displayed them both.
"Your loss." She said with an oozing shrug, "I'd have brought mine but... well, this place is strange and I've got a cat-sitter. Besides... cats prey on birds."
"Not this one." He said, turning away from the mirror and walking out of the room.
"What if I need you?" She said, in more of a declaration than an inquiry, "It's a big house."
He closed his eyes and sighed, "Three rooms down, on the right."
...
...
...
The sound of fists and elbows hitting wood punctuated the air. Tim was honing his hand-to-hand skills on a Mu ren zhuang, a wooden practice dummy commonly used in Wing Chun. The poles that composed the dummy's 'arms' swung and rotated with every blow, forcing him to attack as well as defend.
Every day he took some time to practice on it. More of a detective than a fighter, close hand combat was his weakest area. He had a slender frame, though his muscles were lean and toned, displayed remarkably in a tank top and track shorts.
"You're up bright and early." Selina cooed as she approached from the gym entrance, dressed for aerobics- in tight fitting yoga pants and a crop top. In spite of her age, she had quite some tone and musculature of her own to boast about.
"Crime never sleeps." Tim said, pausing for only the briefest of moments between repetitions.
"My, you're trying so hard to be like him." The woman laughed, "Oh, it's charming though."
"I'm going on a patrol tonight." The boy said, finishing his set with a dramatic double handed chop meant to shatter an opponent's collar bones, "You can stay here if you'd like."
"Really?" She gave him an expression of mock surprise, "But I'm here to back you up!"
"I looked over your files." He said, "You've been out of the game for nearly a decade. I don't need back-up if you're just going to be a liability."
"Well, yeah, I've gone straight and narrow." She cooed, "But a cat's claws never go dull, sweetie."
"Prove it." Robin challenged, walking grumpily over to some mats laid out for Tae Kwon Do practice, "Show me what you've got."
"Huh." The woman closed her eyes as she followed, "That's my line."
He assumed a fighting stance, one borne of rote muscle memory and countless hours at practice. Selina left him there looking all too serious as she started to stretch, languidly putting her lithe body on display. She was still quite flexible, having no trouble touching her toes and even the back of her feet. Tim's eyes darted down to her cleavage... if only for a moment.
"Are you done?" The boy impatiently asked, "Criminals aren't going to wait for you to warm up."
"Oh, honey." Selina smiled, turning away from him and kicking her leg back, until her foot hit her soft behind. She reached backwards for her ankle to get a good thigh stretch out of it, "I'm warming you up, not the other way around."
His eyes shot up from her ass to her eyes.
"I'm ready to go whenever you are." She said, switching to her other leg.
He loosened up, hopping on his toes and switching left to right on which foot he favored. He got low and flicked his nose... and then hurled himself forward, foot first. The cat effortlessly slunk out of her stretch and danced away from him like a trained boxer.
She made no effort to counterattack, merely observing as Robin kept up the offensive. He swung his leg again in a wide roundhouse but it connected hard with the back of her arm.
Even as he was still bringing his leg back to the floor, Robin threw his fists out in a renewed assault. Selina blocked them all and then wrapped her arm around his shoulder. She stomped her foot behind his own and threw her whole weight in a cylindrical motion that sent him head over heels onto the mat.
She quickly put some distance between them as he threw himself back onto his feet with a dramatic kip-up. Selina, meanwhile, was taking off her top. He didn't hesitate, throwing another haymaker when she whirled around and caught his wrist in her bundled up shirt.
In that split second, his eyes drifted away from the action of her hands and instead went to her breasts, at her cleavage peeking out from beneath her sports bra.
