Wren and Selina have claws (laminette) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-05-14 13:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, catwoman, lois lane, superman |
Who: Clark, Lois, Bruce, Selina
What: A gala, some Clois, some theft
Where: Metropolis
When: Let's say last evening
Warnings/Rating: Nope
The drive to Metropolis was heaven for Selina, who had been away long enough that she felt like she’d been caged for years without being able to stretch her limbs or extend her claws. Lacking consciousness in Las Vegas was a good thing, but after long periods away, she felt like something kept on a leash too long, and she just wanted to prowl and scratch and get into more trouble than she could get herself out of. Tonight was one of those nights, and the ride from Gotham to Metropolis on the “borrowed” batpod was the only thing that kept her from crawling right out of her fur and going after something more immediate than the thrill the gala would bring. But the night air was cool and crisp, and it lightened as she left Gotham behind for the brighter, cleaner Metropolis. The kitty cat didn’t like all that fresh air, not as a rule, but tonight was made for straying far from home, and the anticipation made her purr.
Tucking the batpod out of sight in Metropolis was a bit of a challenge, but Selina arrived at Lois Lane’s apartment with an hour to spare, a duffel over her shoulder and a pair of perfectly normal gray cargo pants and black shirt on her thin frame. Without the cowl and goggles, she looked her age, too young, too much like trouble. She didn’t bother with the door. She let herself in the bathroom window, gloved claws on her hands and the fire escape helping with the rest, and she dropped down on the tile loudly enough that Lois would know she was there. “Changing,” she called out from the bathroom, like she had every right to let herself in. But then she was a cat, no matter what she was wearing, and everyone knew you couldn’t keep a kitty cat out, just like you couldn’t keep them in - not if they didn’t want to be kept.
Lois was both shocked and not shocked that Clark had agreed to come to the gala as her plus one. Then again, it was still Clark even though she’d made him quite cross. Maybe he still liked her after all. The only thing she couldn’t work out is why he thought she didn’t trust him, maybe they had some work to do but she didn’t like the idea of a world where she didn’t trust Clark Kent. If you couldn’t trust Clark Kent then there was no hope left at all.
Lois had been in her bathroom earlier and managed to get her hair curled and her make-up on before the desire for a glass of wine to calm herself down took over. She didn’t know why she felt antsy, if she looked at it as another night of work that made it all that much less glamorous. But, she was bringing Clark as her date and as far as he knew they didn’t go out on dates. She’d been through enough in her life to wonder if she was somehow messing with the space time continuum, but considering she had a morning show host living in her head she guessed all bets were completely off.
With the thought that she was going out on a date with Clark Lois was quite happy, thrilled free gT, even if he decided she wasn’t all that impressive at least she’d know. Then there was the added issue that she was walking a dangerous line between Cougar and socially acceptable. That she hardly cared about but in this moment it was worth thinking about. She was wearing her bathrobe and standing in her kitchen glass of wine in hand when she heard Selina announce her presence. “Drinking,” she answered back from the kitchen.
Selina liked that Lois didn’t scream, or cry out for her squeaky clean superhero, or even bat an eyelash at the fact that doors were off limits for the kitty cat. It was stupid, since Lois Lane was very well known as Superman’s shiny bauble, his non-green weakness, but she appreciated that the other woman wasn’t fainting on a couch like so many other damsels. She didn’t know Bruce’s boring lawyer, but she liked to think that she was the kind of woman to faint when she saw her own shadow; she liked that idea, and she was keeping it.
The kitty cat hopped in the shower, and she washed the Gotham right out of her hair, and she spent an inordinate time on hair extensions and makeup. Oh, it wasn’t for Batsy, not strictly speaking. She had a feeling Lois’ +1 would escort her right out the door if he recognized her, and she didn’t want her fun cut short, not tonight, not when she hadn’t been able to wrap her tail around anything at all in ages.
Dressed in open-back black, with heels and no stockings, Selina walked out into Lois’ living room, long black hair (for the evening) loose and BBB in 1920s style, thick, precise waves held away from her face by an diamond-and-emerald clip that surely came from a jewelry box in Wayne Manor. Her green eyes were lined in perfect, cat’s eye black, and she leaned against Lois’s kitchen counter and folded her arms, looking more like a Mafia daughter than she ever did on a normal day. All young socialite trouble, and not a piercing or tattoo in sight. “So, how’d it go with the boy scout?” she asked, a smile on her dark red lips.
Lois was polishing off her glass of wine and making her way to her bedroom when she met up with Selina. She looked her over, because that’s what Lois did, and she smiled at the question. “Well he’s picking me up at 8, so I should probably not be in my bathrobe,” she said sighing a bit. “I’m going on a first date, with someone I’ve been on lots of dates with, awkward.” She said finishing her glass of wine and setting on the credenza nowhere near the counter. “You look great,” she said honestly and sincerely, “It’s bound to be an interesting night indeed.”
Selina ignored Lois’ bathrobe in favor of her hair and makeup, and she turned around and leaned back against the counter, giving the reporter and honest and appraising look, all warm kitty green eyes and genuine fondness. “You’ll knock his socks off,” she promised, pushing away from the surface. “If he doesn’t think you’re amazing, then we need to find you a nice Gotham crime fighter,” she offered, though she couldn’t imagine a world in which Superman wasn’t wrapped around Lois Lane’s little finger. It was an institution, the two of them, and the kitty cat had a soft spot for happy endings when she liked a person. She walked across the room, all perfect balance in her heels and a catlike slink, even without an audience, and she tugged on the robe’s belt. “Go get dressed. I’ll see you there,” she urged. “Wear red,” she added, making her way back the way she’d come, leaving her duffel on the floor of the bathroom, intending to come back to Lois’ to change once the evening was done - hopefully with some shiny baubles on her wrist to add to the evening’s enjoyment.
Lois smiled and nodded, “Sounds right up my alley,” though it wasn’t at all. She was prepared for a very odd night, though she quirked an eyebrow when Selina told her to wear red. She hadn’t been planning on it. Red and white were two colors she’d ruled out early on. But it gave her something to think about. “I’ll be there with bells on!” she said only sounding half miserable about it. She was going to work after all, and the last thing she expected was for something truly newsworthy to happen. But she had been surprised before. Leave it to Catwoman to scale out of
her building in evening wear.
It took some wincing and serious scraping under the couch cushions to come up with enough money to rent a tux on such short notice, especially since Clark apparently qualified for “big and tall” which was confusing and embarrassing all at the same time. He felt like the kid that went to prom, and he had a brief moment of agonized uncertainty at the florists as he tried to remember if grown women went for the tiny flowers that hooked around their wrists anymore. In the end he just went for the cut bouquet and prayed it wasn’t a big mistake. Clark drove his tiny sedan the short distance and long ride (traffic) to the foot of Lois’ building, parked carefully in a legal zone, and forgot to check his appearance before he ascended in the building elevator and stared down the hall in consternation. He didn’t know the apartment number. He felt like he should, or had, but he really didn’t.
Clark hesitated a moment, looking from left to right, and finally sighed. He closed his eyes and opened them again with a careful focus of unseen muscles, looking through the walls for the right woman in the right place.
Lois was finished getting dressed and staring at herself in the mirror in her room. Every dress she owned was on the floor at her feet and she stood there with one hand on her hip trying to decide if this particular dress was going to make the cut or if she was going to be heading out in jeans and a tee shirt with a pit stop at an all night dress store...Which was ridiculous but she supposed her overactive imagination might be considered a “good” thing once in a while. Just not today.
Lois looked down at the floor and kicked at the pile a bit. There were red ones, and blue ones, and green ones, black, grey, sparkly, ridiculous...They were all ridiculous. But she was finding herself more and more fond of the long dress she’d settled on. The back was a bit much for a first date but she didn’t care. Not anymore, because if she stood there staring at herself much longer she’d call the whole thing off. And more wine wasn’t an option, she didn’t need to be tipsy on top of it all. There would be plenty of time for tipsy later. She made a hilarious face at herself in the mirror, and kicked all the rest of the dresses into her closet and closed the door. No one saw anything.
Clark blinked and the white wall he’d been staring through resolved itself once more. He felt his neck get hot. It wasn’t like he was expecting her to be still getting ready, as he was perfectly on time and he hadn’t even thought that she wouldn’t be too. Lois was always there for a story before half the staff even thought there might be one, and he hadn’t expected she wouldn’t be just as punctual about everything else. He felt like apologizing to someone, even if there wasn’t anybody to apologize to, and he hadn’t actually seen anything besides a lot of white back. Mouthwatering as that was.
Clark tried to compose his expression and knocked, awkwardly attempting to get the bouquet out of his face before she opened the door and nearly dropping it twice.
When the knock came Lois closed her bedroom door and moved across the living room to the front door. She stood there for a moment, took a deep cleansing breath, and exhaled slowly before she pulled the door open. And she saw flowers. And Clark. And she felt better. This was still the weirdest thing she’d ever thought she’d do (and that was saying something), but there were flowers. And there was Clark. And she didn’t even realize that she was standing there like an idiot with a stupid grin on her face for way longer than was socially acceptable when opening a door. “Sorry!” she said with a chuckle, “Come in, Clark,” she stepped aside. It was a bit like deja vu really, but she didn’t say as much she didn’t want to delve too much into the crazy situation they were in between the two of them.
Clark was temporarily stunned by Lois, visibly resplendent in her magnificent dress, which sparkled in a way that made Clark feel like a very drab sparrow next to a swan. His opening greeting stuck in his throat, and he choked on it before coughing and forcing it past his tongue. “Lois!” he said, sounding more alarmed than anything. “You look...” He temporarily ran out of words. “I mean. Wonderful.” He looked past her at the room but then stuck out his arm with the flowers instead. “Actually I think... I’m running a little late...? Maybe we should get going. Unless you need more time, I mean.” Blank. He gave the flowers a slight twitch in the air toward her.
Lois’s eyes got wide and her smile got a bit brighter at his alarmed greeting, and chuckled just a bit. “No I think you’re right on time,” she said taking the flowers and giving them a smell, “They’re beautiful, thank you. I should probably put them in some water before we go,” she said nodding toward the kitchen, she grabbed a vase from about the fourth cupboard she looked in and filled it with water once the flowers were in water she walked back over to where he was standing and before she could really stop herself - it was habit for her by now - she smoothed the lapel of his jacket just a bit, “You look very handsome, Clark.”
Clark was temporarily unmade by the combination of movement and the low, casual tone of Lois’ voice. She’d never looked nor spoken to him like that before (in the whole month that he’d known her) and it was like being abruptly plunged into hot water. He blushed, a strangely boyish picture composed of a soft smile and glinting blue eyes, and came out with a “thank you” only because his mother had ingrained that sort of thing in him early and he didn’t have to think about it. Without thinking he put out a hand and touched her hip with the tips of his fingers, nothing grasping, just a light contact with the rough sequins of the gray dress, and then he shifted toward the door, offering his arm as he did so. “Shall we go?”