I Bet On Losing Dogs

Go With the Flow

AN: short one as my mind is five chapters ahead and im still settling in after moving lol lemme kno abt the characterization of course lmao im trying my best w/o watching stuff bc of moving and working

Kate's apartment isn't that far from the Bat Tower. Her car is a sleek black with red seats and wood accents. Everything is new and shiny. You wonder if it's one of Bruce's gifts to her as Batwoman. She doesn't talk, which is a nice change. You keep glancing back as if you can still see him. Her luxury garage is white with walnut wood accents. She parks her sports car near the back, but she has other cars too. A navy blue and orange car with all-round edges catches your eye as you get out. She smiles, taking her mask off. "That one is a beauty. I love taking it out, but every time I take it out, some man wants to take selfies with it." She rolls her eyes as she heads to the elevator.

Her condo is what you expect from a socialite. There are white marble tiles that shine and white walls that ascend so high. There are black circular lights above as you continue down the main hall and reach the open space of her living room, kitchen, and dining room. Her curved couch is white velvet with a golden trim around the bottom and a matching white gold chair that's plush and expensive-looking. Even though you've been staying at the Wayne's mansion upstate, you still feel out of place in expensive homes like this. It feels straight out of a magazine.

Kate goes to the kitchen, washing her hands before getting two glasses down. "Do you drink?" You shake your head, feeling woozy by the night's events. "Okay. I have water, and I think maybe some pop if you want." "Water is fine." You reply, looking at the all-black kitchen with sleek black appliances that blend in. You wonder how much it all cost to put together. How much her rent is, or if she owns it.

"You can get comfortable, (Y/N). I'm not going to be weird or anything like that." She chuckles as she sticks your glass in the ice maker. "Well, I might ask uncomfortable questions to get to know you since you are dating my cousin, but that will be all." She hands you the glass with a broad smile. "I haven't been able to grill someone about their dating life with a Wayne in..." She pauses to think, and her eyebrow raises. "Maybe about three years. But don't worry. It was not your Brucie. It was my sister." The corners of her mouth twitch down as she steps back. You heard about her sister and mother's death. It was all over the news. "I'm sorry." You say automatically. She shakes her head, "Don't worry! It's been a while. And we don't need to be down about that!" She heads back to the kitchen, opening another hidden appliance, the wine cooler.

"It's all about you and Bruce Wayne." She pours herself a red wine. "I want to know how it started. Bruce doesn't give interviews, so like everything I've learned is what people assume." You sit on the black and gold barstool as you look into your cup. The ice is swirling around. "What's our given origin story?" You ask, curious. You have some idea from the pings you get, but you never looked into yourself further than what people thought about your clothes. "I think the most accurate was from the Daily Planet from Clark Kent. He's a cool man, by the way, if you ever have to be in print media. He always does a thorough job with his research." You smile at her digression, but you don't think you've ever met him. "He suggested it started as a work fling and that Bruce wanted to make it public at the Gala. The pictures that came out confirmed it, you know. I can't ask Bruce because he'll tell me to mind my business, but I feel like it's more than that." You sip your water. If Bruce's journals were any indicator, he was into you way before you were into him. "It's briefer than that," You start, shrugging. "Briefer?" She asks, frowning, resting her elbows on the counter.

"Yeah. He asked me to the Gala for work and then so on and so forth." You giggle, remembering the bridge. How long ago. "Damn. I thought I was going to get something juicy." "I'm sorry we're not that interesting." "You sell yourself short. "Don't say that. I mean, no offense, but why is there a creepy man after you? What happened at the Tower?"

You shrink at the questions, frowning. "I don't know Scarecrow. I don't know his motive besides that I stopped him twice now from doing whatever. And I don't know about Thomas Elliot. I don't really want to know or talk about him." She sips her wine, nodding. "Fair."

You check your phone for the first time seeing the many pings of being tagged in pictures, your friends checking on you, and missed calls from your mom. "I miss the days when my phone would have no notifications." Kate laughs, tilting her glass towards you. "That will only happen if you break up with Bruce or never leave the house again." She steps back, resting against the back counter. "I'll admit it. I'm not that close to my cousin. He's a recluse in every sense of the word. I have been busy in my own world, but as I've gotten older, I understand why Bruce is how he is." She grimaces, looking at her cup. "He was the only one who reached out to me when I lost Elizabeth and my mother that understood my anger. Then I didn't understand what he was planning, the Batman. And now look at us. Vigilante cousins." She finishes her wine. You nod, not sure what to say. "Anyway, let me show you the guest room. Well, one of them. I'll let you choose since you're Bruce's girlfriend." You hide an eye roll as you follow her past the fancy gold and black dining room and white and gold sitting area.

The first bedroom has white walls and a high ceiling with a projector above the bed instead of a TV. The bed is gray with various shades of monotone color for the blankets and pillows. There's a wall feature of skinny light gray wood paneling with a light-emitting from behind. There's a built-in floating vanity made from dark grayish brown wood next to the bed with a large circle mirror with a soft rounded chair off to the side, and random toiletries placed carefully on the vanity top. Bruce would choose this room if the other one isn't all black. "This one is pretty cute. I like it a whole lot. Sometimes I want to sleep in here, but my room is so nice." Kate moves on to the next room, which is next door. It has the same bed except a darker gray, not yet black. It has more storage on top instead of on the side. It also has a door that leads to a balcony area. You look out the window, considering. You're too far up for someone to break in, but tensions are high.

You go back to the other bedroom. "This is fine. Bruce said that he would send clothes by the morning, right?" Kate nods, resting on the door frame. "Can I borrow something?" You ask, not wanting to ruin this expensive dress more than you already have. "Of course." She disappears down the hallway before returning with an army shirt and basketball shorts. "That door leads to the private bathroom. Is there anything else I can help you with, Your Royal Highness?" You smirk at the nickname.

"Do you have any contact holders?" "You don't keep your own?" She asks, giving a disgusted look. "Bruce gave me these special contacts, and I feel like they'll be terrible to sleep in." You explain quickly, pointing at your iris. "Oh! Those." She nods, disappearing again. You look around the room, your mind on Bruce. The Bat and the Cat. You wish you were half as strong as Selina and Kate, so you didn't have to be hidden away like this with a new babysitter. She returns with a case. "I hope Bruce makes them a little thinner. Just like a tad. Then they'd be as comfortable as other contacts, for me at least." Kate says with a sigh. "They're interesting." You say, blinking a few times, self-conscious they're there. "They are. Well, if there's nothing else, I'm heading to bed. My bedroom is down the hall to the right if you need me. Don't worry, though. My apartment is locked down like Fort Knox. No one can get in or out with many clearances and my approval." She gives you a quick hug before finally leaving you.

You almost kick yourself for not asking for a charger when you already see one on the vanity. She must have thought of everything her guests could need or forget. You head to the bathroom, turning on the shower carefully. It's the same hardware as the Gotham Towers, the waterfall starting almost immediately. You let the steam fill the room as you reflect on tonight. You see marks on your neck from Batman, his touch lingering. Frustration builds momentarily. Why can't you have one typical night out? Why does it have to be tainted by the corruption and crookedness of this city? You at least deserve that. You reach for your phone, greeted by a 10% battery warning. You turn the screen off, bringing the phone's edge to your forehead, the coolness soothing whatever anxiety builds. You wash your hands quickly and remove the contacts before you undress. You let the fabric billow out before carefully laying on the bed and promptly heading back into the bathroom.

The shower is refreshing, but you still stay on edge. You figure it's because of the new area rather than Bruce's mansion or the Tower. You lie next to your dress, staring at the vaulted ceiling. You hope Bruce comes to you as soon as he can.