Girls (Catwoman)

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Harvey had been having one hell of a week.  Got told to go home from work, then that night he'd had an emotional night with Selina, not to mention getting shot last night and having a late supper/early breakfast with Shayera and now Vicki Vale was wanting to have him out for dinner for god knows what, probably to get her hooks into him.  Oh and don't forget the little urchin, Roxanne, that he helped get cleaned up and get some new duds.

Harvey was in a bit of a juvenile mood so he put a Beastie Boys record on the turn table.  Without thinking, when he heard one of the songs off the album he forgot was there, he tossed a plate he was washing down at the ground, shattering it without mercy. 

He growled and threw down another one before he was satisfied.  He was in his boxer briefs and headed to the turn table, stepping over the broken plates, managing to cut his foot on one.  He didn't care though.  He grabbed the album and began to march off through his hallway, bedroom, and made it out to the balcony with the intent of throwing the album to the street below.  Once he was out of on his balcony he growled at the wind as it's icy cold stung his, mostly exposed, body.  He lifted the record over his head when a thought hit his head. 

No, no, no, no, no!!!!

And just as he turned the balcony door slid shut, a little click indicating it locked behind him.

"GOD DAMMMMMMMNNNNNNNNN IT!!!!"

At least there was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, dusted delicately by the light snow fall.  He wanted to throw the record, but stopped himself.  It was of no use now, he'd already been enough of an idiot for the moment.  He sat on the one of the chairs around his little table and picked up the lighter and pulled a cigarette from the pack.  He lit it and just began to smoke.

Within an hour he was passed out, dusted by the snow fall, shivering in his gruntled sleep.

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She'd been out for at least three hours, and was not amused. It was too cold for anyone to really be out, and she hadn't spotted a damn thing worthy of picking up. So while she skirted the park, taking a well-loved route, she heard the scream. Wait. Men didn't scream that often, now did they? And something that familiar? Peculiar. Turning left instead of right, and skirting down several stories of slippery, snow-dusted rooftops did she spot it. Detective Bullock. Snow-covered, and asleep on the deck. In....she flicked down her binoculars for a moment...in his boxers, only. Was he daft? Rolling her eyes, she made the quick drop, roll, and slide to where she could catch her feet on an adjoining balcony. It wasn't hard to slip into his neighbor's living room, tiptoeing through the building, and then unlocking, relocking, and shutting the door behind her before making her way to his door. A quick door to break, she snickered before slipping into his place, the familiarity rushing home to her.

It was only a quick detour to his kitchen, where she oddly saw the aftermath of several broken places, and started a kettle of water to boil. Only then did she walk quietly through a home she knew better than most, and opened the balcony door, a flick of a claw making sure the lock wouldn't hit. Standing there, she could have been imposing. Instead she was curious, in head-to-toe black, a thick wave of unruly hair out the back of her mask. Gloved, and booted, she toed at the nearly naked man in the cold, crouching to whisper to him, "Get up," in that sultry purr most knew as Catwoman.

They'd encountered one another more than once. She'd used her whip a time or two, and had been surprised to know she'd left a mark on his shoulder from one of their little 'moments' in the night.

So if he really wanted to start shit with her now, to provoke the cat, she'd walk right back through that doorway, and let him freeze.

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Harvey, not paying particular attention to who it was for the moment, did as commanded once he was awoken by the lady's words. Her voice was somehow familiar, but Harvey could not think or speak very well, thus he was not able to spend any time on thought. Soon he was in his bedroom again and he went straight to his bed, shaking snow off before getting there. The room itself was warm enough to make him happy. He went to lay on it, just falling into it.

He pulled a blanket at the corner of the bed over himself and finally turned over to his back. After a minute or two he finally got enough heat in him to start to wonder Who let me back in?

The question was answered when he looked in her direction. Quickly, he was on his feet, holding a pillow over his pelvis, covering himself from the le chat noir.

"W-W-Whattaya doin' here? Whattaya want? How did you get in?"

Harvey was shocked and had a moment of 'oh shit' before he took a defensive stance, ready to deal with her if he had to, still covering himself with the pillow.

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Queerly, he got up from the balcony and marched right past her without a second glance. Was he drunk? Blinking as she closed the door behind the both of them, she just shook her head. What a peculiar night. Following closely behind the man, it was as if he didn't realize who had just let him in. Not until he collapsed in his bed, and stared at her from beneath his comforter.

And then he bolted upright, a pillow over his groin, as if he thought she was going to place a poised kick, right in the family jewels.

Raising a brow, she was almost mocking him. "You scream like a girl. And don't act so scared. I'm a thief, not the BATMAN!" she mocked. "I know a thing or two about B&E. I fixed the lock on your door. I'd hate to see one of the better detectives on Gotham's Finest die in his panties in this snow." She shrugged, the tight leather rippling slightly on her body as she leaned against the doorframe. "I may walk a fine line, but I still have a heart, Detective Bullock," she purred, curious to see his reaction.

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Harvey huffed at her and threw the pillow down. He held his arms and hands in a ready place. That dangerous smirk came across his face, like she had seen a couple of nights across his face.

"You wanna go, furball? I'd love to tango with you-"

He shut up and stopped being so defensive when he realized she was being nice to him, something he was not used to. He cleared his throat and stared at her long and hard for a moment.

"Sorry, I just ain't used to you doin' anything but giving me scars and bruises, toots."

Harvey did indeed have a rather notable scar on his right shoulder from their very first encounter. There was a set of four parallel scars over his left pectoral muscle where she had caught him damn bad with her claws. The rest of the scars on his body he had some of the other rogues to thank for. He looked a little embarrassed at her mentioning fixing his lock.

"Thanks."

Harvey inhaled sharply and got the surprise out of him and finally came out from around the bed and walked a bit slowly to her.

"Well, I never doubted you had a heart, Cats, I only doubted that you had any sense, but then again... I know I was wrong on that one. What you do have, though, is a god damn mean streak, so again, a little off putting that I'm not actually trying to catch you or chase you down."

Harvey looked her over a bit generously before reaching to grab her hand and look her claws over.

"Though, I suppose a bull dog's always gotta have a cat to chase."

Harvey laughed at his joke. He kind of wanted to try to cuff her, but he was nearly naked as it was. He really didn't want those claws stinging him... or did he.

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Raising a brow, she was shocked to see he was bold enough to...oh, wait. He stood down, once he realized she wasn't being a bitch. Funny. But it would have been rather ...ballsy for the man to take her on...barely clothed. In polka-dot...boxer briefs.

She had to stifle a chuckle at that, barely keeping it quiet as he gave her a long stare, and then spoke again. "Mmm. Haven't heard 'furball' before. And usually you're chasing me, not me following you home. Cats doing what they want, and all..." she waved her hand dismissively, her claws slipping from her fingertips as she admired them as one would their freshly manicured nails.

"I do have a heart, you know. And like I said; it'd be no fun if you died. I have to have someone with brains on the PD to play with. Gregson and Bivins are morons. No meow in that at all."

Nodding she was about to turn and leave when she heard the sharp exhale, and felt, more than saw the slow approach of the tall man. He just...didn't stop with the nicknames. Not even endearments, but...nicknames. "Cats aren't known for their mercurial moods for nothing," she snapped, narrowing her gimlet eyes. He was quicker than she had expected, his large grip encircling her wrist as he got up good and close with her claws, something that made her skin crawl. She never let someone get this close to her. Well, a few..but those few she could count on one hand. And even so, while she knew Harvey, she didn't want to risk him peeling off her mask as she was pinned, and exposing her identity.

"Always with the puns, you know. Every one of you does it. No one ever has anything original to fire at me." She glared at him. "You done yet?" Narrowing her eyes, she just felt the urge to run. And fast. He was eyeing her up, and who knew what was going to happen, then. He knew better than to back a cat into a corner.

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"OH MY GOD, I am not punning! It's an expression. Dogs freaking love chasing cats, come on."

Harvey finally smiled a bit, dangerously, as he had earlier.

"Besides, its always nice to chase you. I get such a great view."

Harvey was pleased with himself. And he really was a dog sometimes.

"And don't get all fussy, I enjoy the chase much more than I do the catch, toots. I think you're smart enough to know that."

Harvey sat on the edge of his bed and leaned back on his left hand.

"C'mere, this is a rare opportunity for me, I never really seen you in light this good. And you know..."

Harvey leaned back on the bed, now resting on his elbows, propping himself up, looking her over again.

"You're not as bad as you act. I could give a damn about all those diamonds and jewels you just love stealing. Way I see it you never put the hurt on someone that didn't already have it coming from me in the first place, so really, you're my pal, toots."

Harvey chuckled a little and used his head to beckon her toward him.

"How aboutsa game, Cats. If you can spot the scars you gave me I might give you somethin' nice..."

Harvey wiggled his eyebrows a little playfully.

"Ruff" he barked under his deep breath.

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She rolled her eyes. "Oh shit! I didn't know that dogs chased cats! At all!" she said back sarcastically. "Never would have thought that dawned on me, in this?" A hand ran down the supple leather she wore. Another eyeroll was indulged in as he commented on her ass, which she did know was rather...impressive. Yoga. And running. She worked at it, but played it off as 'God-given.' At least he backed up to the bed, and released her hand, finally. The distance let her breathe more.

"Every man wants what is just out of his fingertips. That is a known fact, Bullock. And I'm not just here to be oogled. You know better. Don't toy with a feline." Hand on her hip, claws indented on her thigh slightly, one finger wiggled at him.

But his words stopped her. No one, other than one, specific man had ever encapsulated who she was so succinctly. And it drove the fear home that he knew.

"I am a criminal. I am no friend, especially to a cop." She sassed back, spitting attitude she honestly wasn't feeling. And as he offered her a game, she hoped it would get him off her back. She approached him with the skepticism of a wary feline. One step, then two, then three brought her close enough to trace the marks carefully with a claw. "Here," she started, pointing to where her whip had bit into his shoulder. "And here." She drew a thinly etched circle around where she had clawed him on his chest.

At his canine bark, she snickered. "You sure your little girlfriend would like this? You, here with me, in your finest, Detective?" She teased, each word drawn out in her characteristically throaty purr.

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He just kept the dangerous smile upon his face when she hissed at him the way she did. He just loved that. He loved goading it out of her, too. He was just having too much fun.

Even as tough as he was he couldn't help but gasp just a smidge when her claw made contact the first and second time. He looked down at the places she noted them as she did it and then eventually darted his eyes back up to her as she stood over him, closer than he expected her to get. He furrowed his brow at her at the mention of a girlfriend.

"I don't have a girlfriend, I have a loyal friend. Besides, she's a lot sweeter than you. Though, she was once a decent little thief herself. You ever steal from her then I will start giving a damn about your love affair with nice things."

Harvey raised his chin at her and let the smile wash over his face again.

"And thank you, I'm glad you find it fine, toots."

Yeah, at first he was a little caught off guard to be in his underwear in front of Catwoman, but it was warmer now and he had nothing on his body to be ashamed of now.

"So, I did promise you something nice for winning the game. I'll give you a freebie. You can make a new scar wherever you like."

Harvey's eyes were darker than usual and he wasn't kidding. He still had sutures on his shoulder from getting shot at the other night.

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Seriously?

Shit. She had thought if she poked at him enough, he'd ...not egg her on more. Blinking, she tsk'ed at him, her hand going to her hip again as she tried to fight off the claustrophobic feeling sinking into her every pore. She didn't flirt inside with men in their boxers. Not...while she felt caged in. The briefest moment of panic flashed in those green eyes of hers as she withdrew the claw from his chest.

He had to be messing with her. On purpose. For all the times she'd marked him. Or teased. Something. She was loosing her grasp on her seductive, who-gives-a-fuck facade, not wanting to let it slip off her shoulders as he continued to poke at her, expecting to rip off the corner that was peeking through.

Instead, she laughed at him. "Mmm. She's not as good as me, or I would've heard about her. Two-bit, it sounds like. And to get caught? Tacky."

"How about I give you something, and we call it even." She wasn't going to mark him. She was quite aware of the clear GSW, and not wanting to inhibit a decent officer in Gotham. There were worse out there than her.

So, she'd give him a story. In one motion, she bent at the waist, and curved so she was seated across his thigh, almost as if he were Santa, and instead of giving, he was going to get. "No claws this time," she murmured, a claw turning his jaw to her.

With a slow wink of those large, lashed eyes, Catwoman drew close, and gifted him something most men dreamed of, but few ever had experienced; a several second long kiss with Gotham's most reviled burglar.

Slowly drawing back, she ruffled his hair, and stood, halfway out of his room before he'd think to take a breath. Tazer set to stun, she now only had a few seconds to get the hell out before his brain unfroze and started realizing what had just happened.

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Harvey was about to retort when she got in his lap. He shut right up and she kissed him for a few little seconds and then SHSHSSHZZZZZZ.

Harvey was stunned, but he'd recover in decent time. It was not the first nor the last time he would be stung with a tazer. She got out before he had a chance to react though.

Once he gained himself again he sat back up and looked around, the balcony door was open. He shook his head, still a little frazzled. He finally stood and went to go get his house coat, a simple black robe.

He would come back out to the balcony a few minutes later and be sure to make sure it was unlocked this time. He lit himself a cigarette and looked over the park and the city.

"Worth it."

Finally, he got to mess with her and get a little pay back on those scars and bruises from over the years.