Work Text:
Selina Kyle had heard the saying, ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ more times than she could count. It was a risk you ran if you picked a cat gimmick in a city where all crime and crime-fighting hinged on corny puns.
However, Selina didn’t think it was too much to ask for some creativity. Especially considering the amount of people trying to kill her that were certifiable geniuses.
But no, it was always the same old routine. Selina breaks into a place where she shouldn’t be. The owner shows up dramatically and says the line. Then they try to kill Selina. Honestly, the whole thing became stale after the first few times.
But the monotony of it all didn’t bother Selina as much as how false it was.
Curiosity didn’t kill cats, boredom did. Curiosity was like junk food; tasty and addictive, but not healthy to binge on long term. Boredom was a powerful poison, lethal even in a small dose.
The dose Selina was experiencing was enough to take out a venom-infused Bane.
The worst part? She knew all of her suffering was her own fault. No one to plot revenge against or blame except for herself.
She had been showing off during a heist. She was bragging while performing tricky maneuvering over rooftops with Ivy and Harley when she slipped. The mortification of slipping was worse than the pain in her leg, which was now stuck in a bulky boot for the next two weeks.
After getting her leg taken care of, Ivy and Harley decided to never let her live down this shame. They had even found a human-sized cone of shame for her to wear. (Selina didn’t want to think what website Harley could have used to discover it. That was between her and Ivy.) The pictures had been sent in the rouges group chat. Eddie had sent a compilation called, ‘Cats getting into trouble’, in response.
On second thought, maybe she did have a couple of people to plot revenge against.
But as she tried to think of a suitable punishment for them, her imagination failed her. Her best ideas came when she was running or walking around the city; the lack of movement had severely stifled her creative process. It was the same reason she wasn’t planning any heists. Anytime her brain tried to think past the word heist, it shut down completely.
She sighed and looked around the empty apartment. Ivy and Harley were out for different reasons. Ivy was picking up groceries and Harley was taking her hyenas to the groomers. It left the apartment unbearably empty of victims to annoy. The closest thing to a sentient life form was one of Ivy’s more exotic-looking plants, and Selina was under strict instructions not to touch it.
Messing with its leaves provided relief for maybe ten minutes. Plants had never been her interest, her heart was always with animals. She could still remember when she wanted to be a pet shop owner, or maybe a veterinarian. What would little Selina say if she could see herself now?
Distractions, she needed a distraction.
Most of the games in the apartment were designed for multiple people. Theoretically, she could play Cards Against Heros with the stuffed animals. But she couldn’t deal with the ego blow if random chance gave Harley’s stuffed octopus a funnier card than her.
Puzzles had been banned from the apartment after Ivy had destroyed their coffee table over a missing jigsaw piece. (Despite fervent accusations, Selina refuses to fess up to stealing it. Not like Ivy would ever find her proof anyways.) That was okay, Selina found most puzzles mundane and repetitive.
Ivy always had plenty of colorful chemicals laying around. Selina remembers begging for a chemistry set as a kid, maybe now was a chance to rectify that.
They were categorized by some system she didn’t understand.
The only things she recognized were a few explosives set side with a note saying, “NO TOUCHING! (HARLEY)”
Or maybe not. She couldn’t recognize or even pronounce most of the chemicals. (Honestly, what even are allelopathic chemicals?)
She would love to watch TV or a movie, but their TV had a remote stuck in it since it decided not to play one of Harley’s wrestling matches. Their internet had also mysteriously started acting up yesterday. While no one had claimed credit for this, Selina suspected Eddie. Harley owed him money.
A third person to exact revenge upon, even if he didn’t take away their internet. He would've likely done something else to make him deserving. In fact, the cat video was enough.
She couldn’t do anything to rectify the situation right now. All she could do was pace the apartment like a caged tiger.
She knew the boredom had won the battle when she stopped in front of the bookshelf where Ivy and Harley kept all of their reading material. The old thing had been fished out of the trash and lovingly repainted green by Harley.
It held mostly science journals on varying topics since that was their semi-shared interest. Accompanying the journals and treated with equal prestige were Harley’s gossip magazines. Selina occasionally paged through them because they published funny, usually false, stories about Bruce. She had already read the latest issue, which had Bruce on the cover, smiling charmingly. The story itself was about Wayne Industries' competition with LexCorp. Bruce said he thought they were ahead, even if it was by just a hair.
Because Selina preferred having ebooks, the only true books on the shelf were Harley’s romance novels. They were the epitome of trashy. Each time Harley placed a new book by the science journals Ivy’s eye twitched. She would never say anything due to the sheer joy the books brought to the woman she loved.
Staring at the books now, Selina thought this was the universe’s twisted punishment for her laughing at Ivy’s dilemma.
Some twisted part of her whispered, maybe they’ll be funny, and the boredom poisoning her mind sweetened the voice.
Finally, she grabbed a random one off the shelf and stalked to the kitchen. There was no way she was reading this without wine. After getting herself a generous-sized glass, she settled back onto the couch.
She inspected the cover, trying to find the willpower to not read the book. On it, there was a shirtless cowboy. He appeared to be covered in oil. He stared off into the distance with a moody look, the tilt of his head accentuating his chiseled cheeks. His thumbs rested in the loop of his jeans, pulling the ever-so-slightly downwards.
He looked absolutely ridiculous.
A few minutes later, she broke and opened the book. It wasn’t terrible. Not good, but not terrible either.
After a few chapters, she sat the book down. Realizing she had nothing better to do, she picked it back up. That was the moment it all went downhill. She got hooked on a modern-day equivalent of a dime-store romance novel.
The main protagonist, Mabel, was a sweet if not slightly dimwitted girl. Her father’s new farmhand, Jeremy, had a dark past that he was trying to hide. Mabel was trying to discover the truth as she kept finding trouble with bandits and the like. Meaning Jeremy had to save her while protecting his secret. Selina was personally hoping that he murdered his abusive father.
She was so invested in Mabel and Jeremy that when Ivy entered their apartment, she didn’t want to put the book down.
Luckily not all common sense had left her brain. Her logical side forced the rest of her to hide the book. Death was preferable to anyone catching her reading that book.
Ivy was happy to complain about her grocery trip without looking to Selina for a comment. That was good because Selina, lost in her own head, barely heard a word she said.
Her mind was consumed by thoughts of that cursed book. Why did one of the bandits know Jeremy? Was that even his name? How the hell was Mabel’s father supposed to make ends meet when the buyers refused to set a fair price?
After some close calls, she had talked to Ivy long enough to avoid suspension. Or at least she hoped she had. Either way, it was all she could take.
She snuck the book back into her room easily while Ivy fussed over her plants.
After locking her door, Selina laid back on her bed and relished once more the drama and cheesy romance. Mabel was about to finally get some cowboy dick when her door swung open.
Harley had been home for a while apparently. Long enough to make trash can nachos for herself and Selina. Her face was dumbstruck as she processed the scene in front of her.
Selina moved with as close to superhuman speed as her stupid boot would allow. Slamming the door, she covered Harley’s mouth just in time to muffle the squeal.
She cursed herself internally for teaching Harley how to properly pick a lock. At the time, it seemed optimal for stealth, but now Selina would rather Harley use her mallet. Then she would've had a chance to hide the book.
Harley licked Selina's hand.
“Gross,” Selina wiped her hand on the sleeve of Harley’s shirt.
Harley giggled, “I can't believe-”
“Keep your voice down,” Selina hissed, “Ivy could hear you.”
Harley obliged, whispering giddily, “You're reading my books.”
“Only this one. Because someone broke the TV.” Selina glared at her.
Harley wasn't shamed by Selina's accusing tone, nor was she perturbed by the withering glare. “Where are you?”
Instead of answering, Selina just handed the book to her friend. She would have to go on the run now, there was no possible way to love this embarrassment down.
“Ooo,” Harley said as she excitedly scanned through the page, “You're just getting to the good part.”
Harley sat on the bed and patted next to her. When Selina arched an eyebrow in reply she said, “Come on, I want to see your reaction. I'll read over your shoulder.”
Selina knew arguing was pointless; Harley now had serious blackmail material on her. Plus, she really wanted to continue her book.
Harley behaved better than she anticipated. Even though she finished each page before Selina, she waited patiently for her friend to absorb each word at her own pace. Watching her reactions carefully while munching on the nachos.
Selina decided to stop reading when she felt Harley fall asleep on her shoulder. Wouldn't want her to be too lost when she woke up. Selina threw the book under a pillow in case Ivy decided to check on them. Then she nudged Harley's body so they both could fit in the bed and fell asleep.
She would not admit, even under the penalty of death, that she dreamed of shirtless cowboys.