Diversions & Digressions | fanfiction by mara

The Cat Always Gets Out of the Bag

The Cat Always Gets Out of th Bag

by Mara

Summary: You’d think Bruce would know better than to let Ollie start thinking about certain things.

NOTES: This fic was written for Tallyhohoho, who made a wish. (I’m not sure this
is precisely what you wanted, but it was the best I could do!) Thanks to Carmen
for canon help that gave me the idea and Kerithwyn and Morgan for telling me
what I needed to know, even if I didn’t want to know it.

* * * * *

“Oh. My. God. You totally did.” Ollie stared at Bruce, where he sat at the
Watchtower’s central monitors.

Bruce growled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Of course, Ollie ignored him. When had the man *ever* known when it was time to
stop talking? “I can’t believe it!”

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ was unclear?” A readout caught
his eye and he flipped monitor 3 to the main screen. Looked like Flash had the
situation under control, though.

“Stop playing with the toys to avoid me, Bats.”

Bruce turned slowly and glared. “Do *not* call me Bats. And you’re not even a
full member of the JLA, what are you doing here?”

Ollie wasn’t fazed. “Needed to talk to a couple of people and this is the best
place to corner ’em.”

“If all of your conversations were as inconsequential as ours, I’ll remove your
codes from the transporter.”

“Gimme a break. I’m just marveling that you and Catwoman…uh, well you…then
again, she’s damn good–”

Ollie, normally unafraid of Bruce’s moods, trailed off. “She’s *what*?” Bruce
managed through gritted teeth, one fist clenching on the edge of the console.

“Uh.” He took a step back before recovering his poise. “Nothing.”

If his teeth ground any harder, he was going to break his jaw. “What about
Catwoman?” Each word fell like a 6-ton weight into the quiet hum of the room.

“Nothing. Really. I’m sorry I brought it up.” Ollie gathered his scattered
dignity. “And now I’d better get home, make sure Mia and Conner have eaten
something. You know how kids are.” He nearly made it to the door.



“There’s nothing between Catwoman and I. It was…an aberration.”


“Now what were you going to say about her?”

Ollie twitched. “She’s damn good at what she does.”

“Try again.”

“Uh. She’s damn good in bed.” The words were mumbled like a small child making a
forced apology.

Bruce looked down at a strange sound and found he’d cracked the plastic edge of
the console. “Ah,” he said conversationally. “And you would know this…”

“It was just the once,” Ollie said. “We were on a case. Stuck in a hotel room.”

“I see.” An image of Selina laughing at him flashed through his mind. She did
that a lot, usually while running a claw across the bat emblem on his chest. He
turned back to the monitors.

Bruce expected Ollie to take this chance to leave, but instead he went on. “Look
that was a while ago, but she…talked about you. More than she realized, I

Bruce didn’t see the monitors, but he kept up the pretense, his fingers
automatically switching around the views.

“She’s a lot more complicated than most people think.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“And she’s, I mean, I know she used to be just a thief, but–”

“She operates in *my* city, Green Arrow.” Unspoken was the ‘and don’t presume to
tell me about anything that happens in my city.’

“Right.” Ollie cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sorry I said anything. Your
relationship with Catwoman is your own business.”

Bruce whirled. “There *is* no rel…” But Ollie was retreating down the hall,
the door closing behind him. “Damn.” He hissed in annoyance, slamming a fist on
the edge of console, remembering too late that it was already damaged. Several
pieces clattered to the floor.

When the door swished open behind him moments later, Bruce had had enough. “One
more word about Catwoman and I swear they’ll never find your body.”

“Catwoman?” Wally asked. “Why would I be talking about Catwoman?”

Bruce wondered how many alarms he would set off if he smashed his head against
the center of the console.

“Did I hear you mention Catwoman?” Clark asked, swooping into the room. “Hey,
the console’s broken. Did she get onto the Watchtower again? I thought she was
semi-reformed anyway.”

Bruce considered throwing himself out an airlock.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Wally replied. “Batman mentioned her first, but
I don’t know why.”

Clark chuckled. “You know what they say about Batman and Catwoman.”

Bruce considered throwing *Clark* out an airlock, instead turning to glare. “No,
Superman, what do they say?” His voice was so cold, it could have been used to
chill drinks. At the North Pole.

Wally and Clark both took involuntary steps backward.

“Go. Away.”

They were gone before he’d finished the second word. Good. Maybe now he could
get some work done.

**Bruce?** J’onn said in his mind. **Is something wrong? I can feel your
agitation from here.**

The only response he got was an inarticulate cry of rage.


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