"Well, we have to start somewhere," he teased in his dry fashion, pressing his lips to her scalp without kissing it. It was a side of his personality far more natural to him, but one that he was unaccustomed to showing her until very recently. It made him wonder what she, who had always been able to see through Bruce Wayne's playboy joviality, made of Batman without his mask.
The masks had only been the first hurdle in their relationship, Bruce knew. The letter Superman had written to Selina had said many true things, but one of them in particular was that when it came to affairs of the heart, Bruce had never been very successful. There were any number of reasons for it, many of them coming right back to his masks, and others having to do with his personality, but what it all boiled down to was the nature of his life.
Bruce had spent years living in darkness, his house an enormous museum, warmed by memories of his ancestors and now and then, the voices of children. He was withdrawn and moody when working on a case, distracted and absent for days until he found an answer. He could be surly and awkward with those he cared for. He went without sleep, food, sunlight, or human interaction for days, at times. Worst of all - he could be so focused on something that he'd never even notice his behavior until long after it had happened.
There were few people in his life - few people at all - who could put up with that kind of behavior, and if Clark was right in believing that Selina could, Bruce supposed that they certainly couldn't have picked a better time to find out. With everything standing against them already that they needed to work through now, to add to that the knowledge of Damian, the implication of Talia... it was definitely a test of her fortitude.
He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not that she didn't go straight for the most difficult subject, and started with something a bit simpler. Exhaling, Bruce thought back through the years to when he'd first encountered Catwoman, and Selina, and remembered when he'd begun putting the pieces together.
"No, you weren't obvious," he said quietly. "It was early on, though. Batman was visiting Leslie one night in her inner office; I needed a bullet removed. Normally I would have waited until the end of the night and let Alfred take care of it, but it had nicked an artery and was bleeding badly, so some stitching was required, as well.
"Leslie was the only one in that late, but she'd been right in the middle of an operation. When she went back to ask the person to wait a few minutes for an emergency, I caught a glimpse of the cowl - and the burns on your back." Bruce's hand traced lightly over the few that remained from the larger, more horrific scarification he'd seen then.
"I remember asking Leslie what had happened, but you know how she is about confidentiality, and I was so light-headed that by the time she was done with me and I'd recovered enough to leave, I was focused on Falcone again.
"A few months later," he continued, his hand coming to rest over one scar in particular. "I saw you at the fundraiser for the re-opening of the Gotham Museum of Antiquities. You were wearing blue - the collar came up to your neckline in front, but it draped into a cowl in back. It covered everything, but," Bruce's mouth twitched. "I happened to be watching closely. You turned to admire an exhibit an just the edge," he traced it again, slowly. "...and I remembered. Of course, it helped that you were checking out the display of Egyptian artifacts dedicated to the goddess Isis. I made a note to be there later that night, wearing a different black suit."