Note- Catwoman and Gotham are DC Comics copyrighted. A.J. Raffles stories written by W.E. Hornung. This tale is a spoof on the same for fun only. Set on Earth-19 where the world is still in the age of the Industrial Revolution.
xxx
Gotham City, 1889.
Catwoman, the costumed alias persona of Selina Kyle, was a cat burglar extraordinaire. Beautiful, strong willed, and with a life long love of everything feline and sparkling. A master of tracking and stealth she was the most accomplished jewel thief east of the Missouri River. Lithe, well formed and as agile as a leopard, the stunning woman was strong willed, determined and proud. Selina stepped out of the hansom cab and looked up at the opulent brownstone mansion in front of her. Stately Wayne Manor.
"Well, here we are again."
It was an unseasonably warm night for the time of the year as she strolled up to the enormous front doors and entered into a great hall. The occasion was the annual Thanksgiving gathering and Bruce Wayne, self styled playboy and millionaire had been planning the dinner and dance for months. Selina, an on again off again acquaintance of the eligible bachelor had considered the residence for the same period of time, and had decided that it was worth cracking after all.
"There he is."
When she entered the ballroom all heads turned in her direction. Just as she intended. The proud woman seemed to glide across the floor as she headed straight towards the host without a glance at anyone else.
"Good evening Bruce. It appears that I am the last to arrive."
Just as she had planned, he thought.
"Selina. That is quite the most outrageous gown I have ever seen."
"Does that mean you like it or not?"
The formal floor length evening dress, if you could call it was a sexy sheer number with floral sequins and long bell sleeves. In the light of the overhead chandelier and gas lamps the hunter green dress looked to be almost transparent to the eye.
"It catches the eye." He answered as he drank in her figure with big eyes.
Her silver heeled shoes gave her five feet ten form a couple of extra inches, although the bulky Wayne, at over six feet tall still towered over her. He looked into her mesmerising green eyes until she averted her gaze nonchalantly and studied the other guests. Conversation twittered in the background as ladies mingled with the gentlemen. The young woman normally shunned these high society bore fests but this evening she had an ulterior motive. Her pale neck showed as he looked at her profile and he delighted at her flowing raven hair that wound around her shoulder. She looked pallid, with almost translucent skin as she turned back and looked at him from head to toe.
"You're not so bad yourself."
Wayne nodded in gratitude and ran a hand through his wavy dark hair. Elegant and refined in his black coat and cloth trousers the only thing white was his crisp shirt and small neck tie. On his hands were the most expensive gloves that money could buy.
"Drink?"
The passing valet Alfred offered a glass of champagne from a silver tray and Selina took one. Dancers tripped past them as they stood and watched. One man in particular caught her eye.
'Who is that gentleman dancing with Miss Gordon?" She pointed with a slender finger.
Wayne looked across the gas lit room and spotted his newest friend from England. Arthur J. Raffles was in a single breasted dress coat with black kerseymere trousers and ruffled white shirt as he twirled and spun to the music. He stopped dancing when Bruce beckoned to him and he and Barbara Gordon came over laughing and merry.
"Barbara, are you enjoying yourself?" Asked the genial host.
The twenty year old daughter of the Commissioner of the Gotham Police Department nodded breathlessly. She had her on best gown, the taffeta one with the fitted bodice and open neckline. The single woman loved to dance and her toned figure was the happy result. "It is the best thanksgiving I ever had. Thank you for inviting me."
"Anytime. Selina, allow me to introduce Mister Arthur Raffles from London. He is an exceptional sportsman and plays cricket for England. Arthur, please meet Miss Kyle, a dear friend of mine."
She shot a look at Wayne and then spoke to the handsome Englishman.
"Cricket?" Said Selina confused.
"It is a gentlemen's game with bat and ball between two teams of eleven played on a green field in the summertime. And may I say that you look absolutely stunning tonight."
Raffles smiled, took Selina by the hand and kissed the back of it lightly. His piercing blue eyes bored through hers as she studied his curly dark hair and clean shaven appearance. He had a strong, unscrupulous mouth and white teeth which captivated the slim woman.
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted. Come Barbara, let us dance."
Wayne took the rather glowering young woman by the elbow and steered her to the dance floor.
"Bruce. Did you see what she's wearing? She's practically naked!"
"Barbara Gordon, do I sense some jealousy?"
"Jealous? Not I. Why she must be all of thirty!" Barbara huffed and was then whisked up in the arms of Bruce.
Selina and Raffles sat by the grand piano and exchanged pleasantries as they watched the guests dance to the orchestra.
"So, Mister Raffles. What brings you to America?"
"Oh, I've always wanted to see the country. Cricket season is over until Spring, and I got a good deal on a first class cabin on an ocean liner."
"You don't appear to be needy that you should want to save money."
Raffles flashed a look at her expensive dress, diamond studded cat choker and diamond ring. You seem pretty well off yourself he thought. He lit a cigarette which he produced from a silver case and mused for a moment.
"Oh I get by somehow." He said as he flashed his engaging smile at her again.
If she only knew that he rivalled her as a gentleman thief, capable of carrying out ingenious burglaries. Always after that big haul that would mean he could settle down permanently he stole at night and played by day. He was cynical about Victorian England believing that the distribution of wealth left a lot to be desired and chose to steal from those upper class citizens who could afford some losses. Now in America he had travelled from New York City, plundering several wealthy Americans homes and relieving them of their jewellery. He had arrived in Gotham and he had learned that Bruce Wayne had a substantial amount of gems in his personal safe. Selina saw his glance at her and read his mind.
"Believe me, Mister Raffles. I have known poverty. I was brought up in a Gotham slum before I was kidnapped from my father and raised by others. I feel for the weak and oppressed, although I myself adore fine clothes and food."
"I can see a lot of you in me, my dear Miss Kyle."
"Indeed?"
A young man asked her to dance but she shrugged him off as she waited on the next words of Raffles.
"Yes, indeed. Do you think that because a fellow has fine clothes, plays a sport, and attends extravagant parties and socialises in wealthy company, he must have a balance in the bank? I exist on my wits, as, I think do you."
Selina was speechless. He DID see something of her in him. Her bosom rose and fell as she digested his words and his eye imperceptibly lowered to look at her enviable cleavage.
"Shall we dance?"
Raffles and she stood and he took her by the waist and they waltzed around the room. Selina was an independent creature to be sure, but at the same time was a woman through and through. The English gentleman had a firm hold and was light on his feet too. She closed her eyes and surrendered totally to the music and his arms. Then the music stopped and their faces came to within inches of each others and time seemed to stand still.
"Thank you, Mister Raffles. If you would excuse me I have a headache."
The elegant woman relinquished her hold on his back and glided across the room and was gone.
x
Catwoman prowled along the corridor like a big cat stalking its prey. The beautiful thief had waited until the hour of two in the morning until she changed into her professional outfit. She appeared from her room and glanced from left to right. Only when she was certain no one else was abroad did she close her door behind her and venture out. It was absolutely quiet, no sign of life now that any overnight guests had retired for the night. As she passed a window in the hall on the first floor the moon shone its pale, almost ethereal light onto the athletic figure in black. Each silent foot tread was as if she were walking on paper as she made her way to the private study of Bruce Wayne. Her jet black hair was loose about her shoulders and she kept the fine locks out of her face with a velvet mask with two ears that hid her features.
"Curse the moon."
Her sleek figure was encased in a tight cinched whale boned bodice that stopped at the waist and enhanced her cleavage. Elbow length black gloves ended in special cat claws, perfect for detailed work and defence. With the waist high tight leather leggings and knee high black boots she gave a sexy cat like silhouette.
"There."
She paused in the shadows and inspected the door. Having produced a skeleton key, newly twisted and filed, she opened the lock and turned the doorknob of the study in her left glove which gave way easily and she opened it a crack. As fortune would have it made no sound and she slipped inside cautiously and closed the door again silently. The room was dark apart from one moonbeam that shone through the large paned window. A mix of desks and armchairs were the only furniture in the room, and the air had a smell of old books from the many shelves. In the dim light Catwoman made for the big portrait of Bruce Wayne's father where she expected to find a potted plant to the left of it. Behind this was Wayne's not too clever hiding place for his personal safe where he kept untold amounts of valuables.