Chapter Text
When Bruce had practically gotten on his knees, literally at one point too, and begged Selina if he could meet her friends, she had only agreed to shut him up in the moment. He was just so whiny about it, complaining that she had already met all of his friends (although, Selina didn't consider Alfred or his children enthralling company) so why couldn't he meet hers? It had gone on for weeks. She thought he would drop it but, in true spoiled child fashion, he didn't.
Each day, she had woken to not-so-subtle hints over breakfast; random texts proposing activities that made her stomach churn; and the stupid way he constantly preened at her, thinking it would help his cause. While she admired his conviction that had inevitably led to her caving in, she didn't realise how adept he was in the art of lamenting. Foolish on her part, in hindsight, given the whole… you know.
She regretted everything now. Regretted allowing Bruce to buy her that vintage, off-the-shoulder Mugler dress she’d been eyeing up for months, regretted taking his suggestion for matching shoes (which had surprised her when he’d actually picked out a rather chic pair), and was severely regretting inviting Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy to meet her billionaire boyfriend. She knew they'd accept; they were just as eager to get their claws all over the mystery man as he was to finally be let into a small part of her world. As if they had needed further convincing, Selina had told the couple that her boyfriend would be paying for the entire evening. The response was more than enthusiastic.
“You look effervescent.” Bruce commented, glancing at her in the mirror of his vanity where he was trying to keep his bow tie in place.
Selina sighed, and took a moment to drink in her reflection at the full length mirror she was posing in front of. “If I was a can of soda, perhaps.” In all actuality, she looked fucking incredible, but no shock there. “How on Earth have you not learned by now?” She chastised as she slowly meandered towards him and pulled his hands away from the mess he was only adding to.
“They're tricky.” He conceded.
She glanced at him once, meeting those bright baby blues for a second, as she swiftly undid the material. “Or perhaps your fingers aren't nimble enough.”
“Or maybe I prefer when you do it for me.”
She held herself back from rolling her eyes.
The night before, when she was laid in Bruce’s bed, alone and waiting for him to come back from patrol, she’d made a promise to herself to at least try to be amicable for the evening. When he finally did return, all weary-eyed, garbling his words, and desperate for nothing other than to sleep in her arms, she thought it might not have been such a hard promise to maintain.
Selina met his eyes again, and felt a part of her resolve melt away. “There,” She said, tightening the knot and patting his chest once for good measure. “Done.”
Bruce took hold of her hands and kept her from moving away. “Thank you, Selina.”
He was still, to her core, exasperating. She would even go as far as to say astonishingly so.
“Should we have a drink before we leave? Just a small one, since it's such a special occasion.”
But, he had an endless supply of… well, everything and anything she could imagine, including affection, so she put up with it. Sometimes, it proved to be worth it. Selina would have liked to see her gamble pay off more times than not but dating Bruce Wayne would have always been precariously titillating, no matter how she felt about him. Plus, he did look rather fetching in a custom tailored three piece, and Selina would never deny herself the pleasure of having some eye candy dangling off her arm who doubled as a lovesick puppy who would do absolutely anything for her.
“Lead the way, handsome.” She purred as her lips met his in a kiss that reminded her of all the reasons she continued to tolerate him, and every inane part that came with such a devastating excuse of a man.
“Is this the right place? I’m not familiar with this part of town.” Harley wrinkled her nose at the snotty so-and-so’s that we're giving both her and her girlfriend some less than polite stares. “It's crawling with blue-blooded bastards.”
“Play nice, Harls,” Ivy looped her arm through Harley’s and steered her away from an aristocratic family of three who had caught her eye. “This is the address Selina texted me.”
“I still can't believe she asked us to meet him.”
“Right? She must be smitten.”
“Or she's finally cracked.” Harley giggled, hoping the second was truer than the first.
“Are we early?” Ivy asked, checking her phone for the time. “She said seven-thirty, and you know she's always late.”
“Who cares? Let's get shitty drunk on tequila shots before they get here.” Her eyes mischievously sparkled with excitement. “I want that poor sap to go into cardiac arrest when he sees the bill.”
“Now, you know I’ll never say no to blowing the one percent’s very disposable income.”
Harley grinned and dragged her girlfriend through the revolving doors of the swanky restaurant they’d been strolling towards. They approached the welcome desk with clasped hands, and waited until the woman whose name-tag read Clarissa finally looked up at them.
“Yes? Are you lost?” She asked, dry and dead-eyed.
Harley clenched her jaw; she fucking despised hoity-toity, stuck so far up their own asses that they started resembling a twisted rubber dinghy, elitist shitheads.
Ivy rubbed a thumb across the back of her hand to settle her down before she exploded. “No, we've got a reservation. It should be under the name Selina Kyle.”
Clarissa, a stupid fucking name Harley noted, started tapping on the keyboard in front of her for a few seconds before she looked back up. “Party of four at seven-thirty?”
“Yep, that's us,” Ivy continued talking for the both of them. “The others should be here soon. We can hang out at the bar if the table isn't ready yet.”
“This way, please.”
The hostess led them through the restaurant, past a hundred faces of people Harley would normally be smushing under her mallet than cheerfully smiling at. Ivy had told her to be on her best behaviour before they'd left at which she'd scowled and protested her innocence by saying she was always on her best behaviour! Best behaviour was whatever the fuck she wanted it to be. But, after some very smoochy kisses intended to win her over, Harley was feeling too lightheaded to do anything but agree with her girlfriend.
So, best behaviour tonight meant bashful smiles, congenial language, and no mention whatsoever of anything Ivy considered lurid. It was going to be a boring night… until she sat at their table and snatched up the drinks menu.
“Oh my god, thirty whole dollars for a Long Island?” She wafted the menu around, incredulous. “What the fuck’s in it? Gold leaf?”
“Harley…” Ivy warned with a gentle tone from across the table. “Language, and volume, baby.”
“Come on, Red, they aren't here yet.” She said slightly quieter. “I need to get all my F-bombs out now or they'll build up.” Her eyes shifted over to the selection of spirits. “Fuck off! You can mix and match any fucking liquor you want!”
Ivy gave her a look but it fell a little flat from the smile that was peeking at the corners of her mouth.
A generic looking waiter ambled up to them, pen and notepad at the ready. “Good evening ladies, I’m Antony, I’ll be your server tonight. I understand we're still waiting on the rest of your party?”
“Yeah, they’ll be here a little later.” Ivy informed him, Harley noticed the edge of nerves in her voice.
“Perfect. Can I get you two started with any drinks?”
Harley skimmed the menu again, at a loss. There were too many options. “What would you recommend, Antonio?”
“For a… drink?” The waiter asked, unsure.
“There's just so much! I would have them all, if I could!”
“Any winning favourites, Ant?” Ivy prompted him.
“Well, what kind of a night are you in for?”
“All out, hair-raising, white-knuckle thrills.” Harley answered, directing her beady, jittery eyes at him.
“Then my personal recommendation would be the cocktail-tree.” He pointed with the end of his unnecessarily large fountain pen at a picture on the menu of a decorative rack that held a number of varying cocktails. “It comes with five shots, all of your choosing.”
Harley’s face lit up. Not only did this tree of cocktails seem to fit right in with her specific brand of debauchery, but it was also the most expensive thing on the drinks menu.
“Oh, you're wicked, Antony, completely evil.” She looked over at Ivy and cracked a wide grin before she had the chance to ask for something else. “We’ll have that.”
He couldn't believe it. Even while they were parking up behind the restaurant, him more focused on her re-applying a dark purple lipstick than reversing into the spot, he was dumbfounded. Selina had actually agreed to the idea of a double date. He thought all his beseeching might have read as miserable instead of moving but, evidently, it had paid off.
She hadn't told him anything about the friends he would be meeting but that didn't matter, they had the whole night to get intimate. Bruce was certain he’d win them over before the entrées were set down.
“You remember what I told you?” His girlfriend asked as she smoothed down her shimmering powder lavender dress.
He crossed to her side and offered out an arm. “No boring stories. Or sad stories.”
She took it and Bruce smiled down at her, wishing for once there was a camera pointed in his face to capture the moment.
“Good boy,” Selina pressed a light kiss to his cheek before they entered the restaurant. “Seven-thirty reservation for Kyle.” She told the hostess without waiting for her to look up.
“Oh, Mr. Wayne-” The woman beamed at him. “Wonderful to see you! And Miss Kyle too, yes, of course.”
Bruce shot her a practised smile to appease her and take them to where they actually wanted to be.
She blinked at him a few times before she started moving. “P-Please, this way. The rest of your party has already arrived.”
“Punctual.” He whispered in Selina’s ear as they made their way through the restaurant.
“And that's about where their decency for others ends.” She hissed back to him.
“Please,” He chuckled lowly. “How bad can they be?”
“Selina!” A very familiar, distinctly high-pitched voice squeaked. “You're finally here!”
Teetering towards them with outstretched arms, wild eyes, and gloss smeared lips was none other than Harley Quinn. Clown princess of Gotham City, and recent Joker divorcée.
She made a beeline for Selina and pulled her into a tight hug.
“And you're drunk. Marvellous.” The brunette murmured.
There was a drawn out wolf-whistle from the clown’s companion, Poison Ivy, Bruce was familiar with her too.
“You've scored big this time, Kyle.” She offered her hand to him when he had staggered closer to the table. “I’m Ivy, it's good to meet you at last.”
Bruce shook it once and was suddenly aware of how dry his mouth had turned.
“Shy, is he?” The overgrown weed sneered.
“Shy? I wish.” Selina got out in between the kisses Harley was plopping all over her cheeks. “Harley, please, show some decorum. This foundation is YSL.”
“I don't know what that word means.” She giggled as she peeled herself away from Selina, meekly dabbing at the red stains on her face before she turned her attention to Bruce. “Now I get why dinner’s on your dime.” She remarked blithely. “Selina Kyle and Brucie Wayne… that's just scandalous.” Then, she was pulling him for a hug too, and squeezing her tiny arms around him so tightly he thought he might burst right out his waistcoat.
“Quinn…” He started brusquely after she’d let go, but caught himself, as well as Selina’s side-eye, and quickly edited his tone, remembering he wasn't wearing a cape and cowl or atop some blustering rooftop, but in the middle of a civilised, lavish restaurant. “Harley Quinn, I've heard some fascinating tales about you.”
“And I know about you, obviously.” She giggled some more. “I mean, we should just rename Gotham to Wayne City, right?”
No one else was laughing but it didn't put her off. When she was seated again, she was wiping tears from her eyes.
“So, Ivy,” Bruce said when he’d taken his own seat between the other couple and opposite Selina. “What do you do?” He was intrigued by what she'd come up with.
“Technically speaking, I'm a biochemist. Morally, I'm an ecological activist.” She replied, casually lacing her green fingers together – strikingly green, he realised, now that he was so close up to her – and rested her chin on them. “But you probably have a different impression of me.”
She could say that again.
“Actually, I thought I’d reserve judgement solely based on how tonight goes.”
“Does he always talk like this?” Harley nudged Selina under the table who was staring off into space. “Like he’s swallowed a dictionary?”
“Unfortunately…” She drawled, sounding painfully too relaxed.
“Harley.” Ivy blinked at her.
“Sorry, sorry, ignore me.” She leaned forwards and placed a hand over Bruce’s. “I think mixing five different cocktails with three shots of Patrón in less than twenty minutes makes me forget other people can hear what I say.”
Bruce stared at her pale skin and the black and red nail polish that coated her fingertips.
“No harm done.” He assured her as affably as he could manage.
“Oh, I’m so glad we're all here.” Harley cooed. “I’ve missed hanging out with you, Selina.” She grabbed her hand and nuzzled it to her cheek.
Surprisingly, she didn’t have a scowl on her face, or smack her off.
“I’ve missed you too, Harley.” She said, which shocked Bruce even more.
When their waiter interrupted them to take their orders, he held the menu in front of his face, pretending to be engrossed in the antipasto column, concealing the frown he knew was showing clear as the fact the Prince of Gotham was attending dinner with three known lawbreakers.
This was a deliberate set up more than it was an innocent double date. And he’d been the one to put himself right in the middle of it.
There was something strange going on with Selina’s date. Ivy couldn’t decide if he was more petrified than he was letting on or if he was preoccupied by something else entirely. Whatever was bothering him didn’t appear to have the same effect on Selina who had taken to the evening with a lot more vigour than Ivy thought she would.
They were all three rounds deep into their impromptu wine tasting session, except for Bruce who had insisted on sticking to ginger ale, and Selina’s giggles were starting to match the same frequency of Harley’s. It was very satisfying to see; she rarely let down that cool exterior.
“And I told him, I said 'Mistah J, twenty rocket missiles is far too many for one lousy middle-school.' Perfectly sane concern to raise, right?” Harley held her glass of rosé by the stem, completely off-balance, between a finger and thumb.
“Any moron knows that.” Selina urged her on, leaning closer into her side.
“Exactly. But ten, ten rocket missiles is classy.”
“Definitely.”
“He didn’t listen. You know, we could have spent that cash on something better than blowing up pre-teens.”
Ivy saw Bruce clench his jaw and watched with a little horror as his expression hardened even more than it already was. “Um, guys, do you think we could talk about something less… murderous?”
“But it’s not like it mattered.” Harley let out a small huff to blow some hair out of her face. “Batman stopped him anyway.”
“Batman.” Bruce said suddenly, uttering his first word in several minutes. “Thank god for him.”
“If you believe in that sorta stuff, sure.” Harley kept babbling. “Sometimes, it felt like such a waste of time. Always being thwarted by a loser in spandex.”
“I read that his suit is made of triple-weave kevlar.” Bruce took a sip of his drink. “Very different.”
“Well,” Selina interjected. “I’ve never had a run-in with the Bat that I didn’t come out the other end of any worse for wear.” She shot a smirk over at her date and mimicked him by taking a long gulp of her wine.
“Lucky.” Harley grumbled.
“Or he just has his favourites.” She winked at him this time.
Even while she was shitfaced, Ivy was slowly starting to piece it together. It felt ludicrous and made her uncomfortable for even letting the thought enter her mind. She needed to steer the conversation away from the dangerous territory they were sinking further in before someone let something slip that they’d never recover from.
“Bruce, have you ever considered making Wayne Enterprises greener?” Lame, she thought, the single lamest thing she could have blurted out but at least it was on-brand. And actually quite a pertinent concern of hers. “All those factories and whatnot… lotta toxic gases.” She quickly took a gulp of her own glass of wine, hoping it could wash away the embarrassment.
Harley and Selina stared at her, faces verging on annoyed, but Bruce turned towards her, head tilted curiously to one side, with something she thought might be an interested gleam in his eyes.
“We’ve actually been testing out alternatives to fossil fuels in some sectors.”
She didn’t expect it to pay off but returned his captivation with an encouraging nod of her head.
“Nothing major, though. It’s hard to win over most of the board.”
“Right, of course, those pesky boards.” She took another swig of wine and drained the glass. “If you’re ever looking for a knowledgeable consultant to fight your corner…” She trailed off, knowing a reputable businessman like Bruce Wayne would never normally so much as even glance at someone like her, less so hire one.
Still, he smiled and reached for the next bottle of wine in the line-up, “Then I know where to find one.” and re-filled her glass.
“Jesus Christ, you guys, we didn’t get all dressed up to talk about greenhouse gases.” Harley deplored, waving her own glass in his face for a top-up. “I hear enough about the increasingly fragile and crumbling state of the environment as it is.” She lessened the blow by beaming a huge, toothy grin at her girlfriend. “Which is fantastic, well, not fantastic for the environment, but fantastic that you’re so passionate about it, babe. I love it.”
Bruce held her hand steady and poured an adequately small amount in her glass. “Ivy raises a good point. All conglomerates should be aiming for zero emissions. It’s really quite a pressing matter, not just for-”
“Bruce.” Selina cut him off. “Darling.”
“Right,” He said, suddenly looking very sheepish. “Has anyone seen anything interesting on TV lately?”
“Oh, god save us all…” She whispered into her glass.
Then, as if hearing her silent prayers for something to swoop in and save them from the dwindling conversation, Ivy sat up straighter when their waiter returned to the table with their starters.
At least now everyone had an excuse not to speak.