"Oh, he'll see *me,*" Selina Kyle breezed as she made a deft 
maneuver around Fiona's desk, avoiding the executive secretary's 
outstretched hand. Bruce heard her through the open door of his 
office and called out.

"It's okay, Fiona, Selina's welcome here anytime."

Fiona huffed a little and went back to her computer screen. Selina 
grinned at Bruce as she came in and set a picnic basket down on 
the corner of his desk. "Anytime? Really? That's so *sweet* of 
you!" she cooed in an exaggerated voice.

Safely hidden from Fiona's gaze, Bruce rolled his eyes at her but 
played along. "Aw, Selina, you know I can't resist you."

"Flatterer," she purred, lounging against the desk. "I like it. Just for 
that, I'll let you take me to the boat show this weekend. There's a 
*darling* new sailboat going to be on display...."

"I thought cats didn't like water," he murmured, dropping the 
'Brucie' voice.

She smiled at him, showing teeth. "I didn't say anything about 
*buying* it."

Bruce was fairly sure that was a joke. Well, about 95 percent sure. 
Although....

Selina shook her head sadly. "As if. *Much* too hard to fence, 
don't you know?" She got up, stretching extravagantly, and 
sauntered back to the door to address Fiona outside. "We're going 
to have a little picnic. Hold any calls, would you, dear?"

Fiona smiled back condescendingly. "Of course, *dear.*"

Selina let the door swing shut. She turned to look at Bruce, one 
hand creeping up behind her back, and he heard the distinct sound 
of the lock turning.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "So?"

"So, what?" Selina smiled guilelessly and glided back across the 
carpet to his desk.

"What's the occasion?"

"I can't visit you on a whim?"

"Not if you're going to antagonize my secretary, you can't," Bruce 
said pointedly. "Do you know how hard it is to find someone who 
can organize the notoriously air-headed Bruce Wayne?"

Selina shuddered. "Don't do that. I *hate* that third-person crap. It 
makes you sound like Harvey."

He glared at her. She glared back, holding his gaze. Finally he 
snorted a little and let it drop. "Fine."

"Fine!" Selina said brightly. "Now that we're over *that* little 
display of...battiness..." she smirked at him, "why don't you ask me 
what's in the basket?"

He leaned back in his chair. "You said a picnic. Please tell me you 
didn't cook. I left all my antidotes in my other suit."

"Me-ow! Positively bitchy. I'm impressed. Did your little blonde 
bird teach you that?"

His brow furrowed. "Blonde... you mean Dinah? What on earth are 
you talking about?"

Selina shrugged. "All those rooftop chats you've been having--"

Bruce laughed suddenly, surprising himself no less than Selina. 
"You're jealous of *Canary*?"

Selina tossed her hair. "Of course not."

"We're...hm." He took his time, ostensibly thinking about it, 
knowing Selina was eyeing him suspiciously and waiting for him 
to deny any interest. "We're colleagues."

"Uh-huh."

"We've known each other for a long time."

"Uh-huh."

Bruce sighed. "Dinah has absolutely no interest in me whatsoever. 
She thinks I'm a lunatic."

"Well, she got *that* one right." Selina didn't look ready to let it 
go. "But there's two things wrong with what you said."

"Oh?"

"Oh. Yes. First, you didn't unequivocally reject the idea. And 
second..." she snickered, seemingly despite herself. "The woman 
has *eyes.* And you can't tell me she hasn't looked."

"Yes, well." Bruce locked his hands behind his head and put on his 
most arrogant tone. "You can't say she doesn't have excellent 
taste."

He'd expected Selina to smack him down for that. Instead she 
cocked her head at him thoughtfully. "Taste. Mm. That reminds 
me. Hungry?"

"I suppose," he replied, going along with her mood shift. With 
Selina, it was only self-preservation.

"Me too. But suddenly I'm not really in the mood for anything...in 
the basket." She slid across the desk, somehow failing to displace a 
single bit of the clutter there. She slipped lightly down in front of 
his chair, ending up in front of him...on her knees.