[Spending the night at Wayne Manor wasn't something Selina did. In fact, recently, it was something she was very careful not to do. But she was willing to break her own rules; she was fickle, after all. Helena wasn't here, and neither was Damian, and all the reasons she'd stayed away didn't seem so impressive in the wake of Bruce's loss. And, alright, maybe she liked the warm bed and the safe arms that came with it, too.
She slept in, and she soaked, and by the time she padded down to the kitchen of the Manor it was past lunchtime. She had no idea when tea happened, and she wasn't going to ask; asking wasn't her style. But she knew where the kitchen was, just like she knew where everything was in this house, and she made her way there. One of Bruce's dull grey shirts that hung nearly to her knees, those pearls she so liked to borrow, and a pair of socks to her shins.
She walked into the vast space, and she smiled at Martha, who was following at her heels. Too many dogs in this house by half, and the cat jumped up onto a shiny, clean counter. She grinned.] I don't think the old butler is going to like you doing that. [She scratched beneath the cat's chin, and then she slid up onto said counter herself. Annoying butlers was, she thought, a good way to start the day.]