Love(s) of My Life: Barbara

ID: Which in a round-about way brings us to Barbara Gordon- the commissioner’s daughter, and all of the naughty naughtiness that implies.

B: Barbara was a friend. I knew Jim socially, though not personally- at least not personally outside of the costume. But Barbara, Barbara made Bane look like a primate. She figured out who I was without really trying. Just one day figured it out on her way to classes.

She wanted to help me, in my crusade. She saw how tortured her father was, how the bureaucracy made it almost impossible for him to protect people the way he wanted. So I guess she also wanted to help him, too.

I turned her away. It was too dangerous a life. And she was just a happy policeman’s daughter. She wanted to help, but… she should have been out volunteering for the homeless, or working at women’s shelters, or doing that kind of thing. Not swinging from rooftops or

ID: That seems like rather flimsy logic. I mean, you already had Robin running around in tights. Were you just afraid of a strong woman back then?

B: She was strong. She took martial arts classes and mastered several different disciplines. She graduated years ahead of time, I think she had just turned nineteen. If I had been recruiting, she would have been top of the list. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t really been recruiting when I found Robin, either, truth be told.

But at least with Robin, I had been able to keep him in check, keep him off the streets long enough for me to train him, to make sure he wasn’t going to get himself killed. I think my main worry was one of quality over quantity; I worried I might not be able to keep them both trained up and safe- or at least as safe as you can make someone whose running around in a cape punching violent criminals armed with guns.

ID: So you were being paternalistic- not technically sexist.

B: You continue to astound me with how big an ass you always manage to be.

ID: It’s a gift; maybe even a superpower. Maybe I could join the League as The Gigantic Ass.

B: I’m horrified at the costume possibilities.

ID: But for all of your good intentions in trying to keep Barbara Gordon out of harm’s way, harm managed to find her anyway, in the form of the Joker.

B: He was there primarily for her father, whom he was trying to drive insane. But he shot her, through the spine.

I still wonder… if I shouldn’t have killed him for that.

ID: What?

B: For all of my moralizing, all of the things I do honestly believe about my parents, and their legacy, and their memory. I don’t know if they would want him alive. If, for a moment, they weren’t dead, and I could ask them, should I kill him to keep people, people like Barbara Gordon, and like Jason Todd, safe, I don’t know if they’d say I shouldn’t.

And Barbara… that’s one of those moments, where I don’t know. I don’t know how I got through it without murdering him.

To her credit, Barbara doesn’t waver. She hates him, don’t get me wrong. But she’s a more forgiving person than I am. Maybe that’s just because… if I’d murdered him, I think her father would have gone insane. And if I’d murdered him, the Joker would have won; her injury would have been a part of his sick triumph, rather than a tragic happenstance. I don’t know. Sometimes it’s hard to get into Barbara’s head.

ID: That’s okay. I’m more interested in how you got into her pants.

B: Careful.

ID: Sorry, it was just too perfect a segue. But you’d just joined the roller brigade.

B: Yeah. In less than the space of a year, I went from being able to bench 600 lbs., to not being able to use my legs. And I was dangerously close to becoming a hugely self-important ass; I wanted to feel sorry for myself. The thing I’d spent my life working towards was slipping through my fingers, and I felt like I’d failed, and that I couldn’t not fail, from that moment on.

And then Barbara rolls into my bedroom. She’d been researching, not just Bane, but what he’d done, the criminals he’d loosed. She was already starting to formulate a plan, contingencies for Nightwing, Robin and the new Batman.

I was hostile. Even mean. But she bullied her way through, anyway, and all the time I barely looked at her. Then she asked if I’d been outside, since the accident. And I hadn’t. She said, “Let’s go for a walk.” And before I thought about it, I glowered at her. And then I realized, well, duh, she can’t literally walk, either. And I felt suddenly very silly, and also ashamed.

But she was there because she wasn’t going to let me wallow; she’d been there, and she knew where wallowing got you, or maybe she knew how dangerous the almost desire to wallow can be.

I had a chair of my own, but I hadn’t used it. I glanced towards it, but I had no idea how to get into it without sending it flying across the room. And she noticed. She taught me how to get into my chair. And I know that sounds small, but it was the first triumph I got after being paralyzed. She got me back on my feet- or at least, out of bed.

I was happy for a second, exhilarated; it seems silly now, but for an instant things seemed possible again, and there were reasons to be hopeful. And I kissed her. And she got really red in the face, but then she brushed it off, and I realized she was more mature than I’d been giving her credit for.

And, I think she always had kind of a schoolgirl crush on me. I think that’s part of where her wanting to run around with me in tights came from. But she hadn’t really been a girl for years by that point- she was a woman, completely. Which was something I don’t think I’d paid attention to.

ID: Because she’d been in a wheelchair?

B: I don’t think so. I think I… I got used to brushing her to the side. Because she was younger than me, young enough that it kind of weirded me out.

ID: Like in the early seasons of Buffy, where she’s completely hot but it’s still skeevy for Angel to date her.

B: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

ID: Liar.

B: Anyway, it started out pretty innocuously. She took me outside. And my home is very nice, but if you want to be depressive, and shut all the curtains, it can actually be a pretty cold and unhappy place. But outside, in the sun, with birds, and a clear sky. It was a different world than the one I’d convinced myself I would be stuck in.

And I think that encapsulates what I had with Barbara. She showed me different sides of the city, different sides of being alive. She was integral to my spiritual rehabilitation.

ID: Okay, but did you have sex with that woman?

B: I’m quite capable of hurting you.

ID: I find ‘no comment’ is more succinct, but I get your point. But it ended. How, and why?

B: Barbara was good for me, emotionally. Psychologically. But physically, I still had a lot of healing to do. And I think… some of the shine had come off. I was part of a white knight fantasy of hers. Even if I hadn’t been in the chair- the fantasy equivalent of trading my white horse for a donkey cart- even ignoring that aspect, I wasn’t, I couldn’t, ever live up to who she wanted me to be, or thought I was. Nobody can.

Every relationship has that point, where your preconceptions, and assumptions, and everything else, have all been peeled away, and you’re left with who they actually are day to day. And I think we liked each other, but that didn’t mean we wanted to pursue more.

And I remember we were in the Gotham Zoo, and we stopped by the tropical birds. She had hold of my hand, and she told me, “I love you, but I don’t know that I love you like this.” And I knew exactly what she meant. I think it was something I’d been thinking about, too. But I was glad she broached the subject- I’ve been known to womanize, and I didn’t- I didn’t want what we had to just be another example of that.

We decided to take a break. I was scheduled for some intensive physical therapy, and was going to be largely unavailable anyway. We decided to spend time apart, and if we really missed what we’d had, then we could go back to it, and if not, it was a pretty clean place to leave it.

And a lot happened in the interim, I’ll admit. But when we again had some time, I had her go first. She said she’d missed me, but because she missed spending time with me, not romantically. To emphasize the point she kissed me and said, “See, nothing there, right?”

I said, “You’re right on the merits, but you shouldn’t do that. You’re still a very beautiful woman, and I’m”

She interrupted me and said, “A dog?” Which, yeah. Pretty much. And we’re still excellent friends. And I wouldn’t trade that.

ID: I know there’s a ‘but’ in there- named Shondra.

B: Right. Well, she was part of that interim. But Shondra was my trauma therapist. She was more than that- in that she had some special healing powers. She’s the only reason I can walk, today, in fact.

ID: But I don’t care about that. See, it’s the other part of your relationship with Shondra that has me asking about her.

B: Fine. But shut up, and let me tell it my way.

We’d been working together for a few weeks. She was also working with Jack Drake at the time, who had also been paralyzed.

ID: That’s the bio-dad of Tim Drake, your second adopted son.

B: Right. Jack was a neighbor. And it was through him that I met Shondra. He was making a miraculous recovery. Doctors hadn’t thought he’d ever walk again, but instead he was wiggling his toes, he could even bend his leg from the knee down- you know, just a couple seconds at a time, but it was a faster recovery than anyone expected.

So I hired Shondra. And she was a miracle worker, no question. But then she was taken, along with Jack. Kidnapped by her brother. Eventually I tracked her to England and was able to free both of them, but like with what Barbara had suggested, suddenly not having Shondra, I realized what I had lost. And it was more than just a healer. I’d started to love her.

ID: So your road to recovery was paved with the bodies of compassionate, nubile women?

B: That’s not fair.

ID: You ran right from Barbara to the arms of your physical therapist; that summation sounds kind. Have you ever wondered if you’re just clinically co-dependent?

B: I get accused of being too much of a loner, most of the time. So co-dependent? I appreciate women. Greatly. They might be the only thing in life I really enjoy in anything approaching a normal capacity.

But, too, I think there was a, I’m sure there’s a clinical term that’s escaping me, but I was vulnerable. And for the first time in I think my life I was forced to slow down. Take stock of things. And sit around. Be with and near people in less of a utility-minded fashion. In both cases, I think it might have been more about appreciating them trying to help me than love.

ID: So you think these relationships were confusing care for love?

B: I think caring for someone is a large part of love. I think it’s almost impossible to care for someone, physically, and not also feel for them emotionally. There’s just too much overlap between the two. So I don’t think it’s confusion, per se. I just think it’s easy to take people for granted, until you can’t anymore. And when you really need people, that’s when you notice who stays, who’s really there for you. And you appreciate them more.

But it’s not uncommon. Jack, as an example, married his long term care nurse, Dana, for I think similar reasons. That, and I don’t want you to succeed in stripping these relationships of their meaning. Because they were important, and are. I loved Shondra, and Barbara. They put me back together when I was broken. I will forever be in their debts for that.

ID: But I think it’s fair to ask if it was love.

B: It was, in both cases, but I think it sprung from different places. Barbara I’d known for years. I had an older brother/girl next door affection for her

ID: That combination is fairly disturbing, on account of the incest.

B: But you know what I mean. I loved her in a platonic way for half of her life. But she was there for me, in a way I don’t think anyone else could have been, when I was really down, and really vulnerable. That’s overwhelming. And I don’t think it takes anything away from what we had to say that it was temporary and situational. I loved her in part because she was there for me, and she loved me because she could be. And sometimes I think it’s too bad that it didn’t translate into a longer-term relationship, but those end, usually with acrimony. And that would have cost me one of my most important friendships.

ID: And Shondra?

B: That ended tragically. Her brother tried to use her gift, pervert it, to hurt people. She was able to stop him, but the damage he tried to make her to do to others, she absorbed it. It cost her her mind. She’s been all but catatonic since.

ID: So you rescued her, but in the doing she was turned into a shell. ‘

B: Yes.

ID: That sucks.

B: Yeah.

Broken

ID: I’d like to talk to you about Barbara Gordon.

B: That could be tricky.

ID: I know. But I like a challenge. But to get to Barbara, there’s a back-story.

B: Careful…

ID: Well, the two of you ended up getting intimate because you shared something. Don’t try to be menacing; you’ve yet to actually hurt me in any way, so it’s really losing its edge.

B: I’m more patient when I’m not wearing a quarter of my weight in body armor. And that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.

ID: Relax. Take deep, calming breaths. Because the thing you two had in common isn’t much of a secret: you were in wheel chairs. You look relieved. What, were you afraid I’d found out something dark and sinister?

B: I don’t think Barbara has anything dark or sinister in her past; having something approaching affection for me at one point is probably as low as it goes.

ID: Fair enough. But Barbara ended up in a chair because of the Joker. You landed in yours because of Bane- and that’s why there’s so much back-story. So start us off at the beginning- your crippling, to be specific.

B: Bane was a genius. He deduced my identity, even before the Riddler. But unlike Edward, he used that information to try to destroy me. He staged an elaborate break from Arkham, freeing nearly every inmate at the same time.

I did what I could to stem the tide of insanity, but there were too many. I was reaching my breaking point, physically and mentally. And that’s when he attacked me in the cave. I barely put up a fight, I was just so… I was already broken. What he did to me really only made me physically into what I was psychologically.

ID: Though specifically he broke your back.

B: Correct.

ID: And how did that feel?

B: Nice therapist tone. It was devastating. It wasn’t that long since I’d had my own dalliance with venom, and failure, but this took failure to a whole new level. I wasn’t just butting up against the natural limits of being human, I was destroyed.

ID: You might want to be careful, lest the disabilities lobby tear you a batcave.

B: I don’t think I’m saying anything that hasn’t been said before. I felt like less than a man- less than a person. I was catatonic. Alfred tells me it was exactly like what happened when I lost my parents, that the same dread and despair descended over him. Because he couldn’t be sure I’d ever snap out of it.

Even after the medications worked their way through me, and the painkillers wore off, it was days before I spoke. The people I cared about were gathered around, waiting outside my bedroom. They wanted to know what to do. They wanted revenge, and to get me better, but there was not really a clear path towards either.

I think it was even scarier, because Clark had just died- and I mean the first time, when Doomsday killed him. And I was being looked at to fill the void he left, and suddenly I was out of the picture, too. I’m not blaming Clark, or trying to escape culpability, but I know that weighed on me, too. Made things harder. The deaths, and the violence, everything that went wrong because of the mistake I made, that’s on my head.

But the first thing I did after Bane was to name a successor. Nightwing was there, but I didn’t- he wasn’t the first person I spoke to. There was a vigilante known as Azreal. He was violent, but I’d been working with him, and I thought he’d become someone I could rely on. I knew Bane was still out there. And I didn’t want him approached; he was too dangerous. I didn’t want whoever became Batman in my stead to pursue him, but I knew Bane would seek a new Batman out, so they were going to have to run.

And if I’m really honest, and self-critical, I think maybe I knew Nightwing couldn’t do that. Bane hurt me. And he’d challenged everything Nightwing had built towards his whole life. If I’d made him Batman then, he would have gone straight for Bane. He still might have, if I hadn’t made him swear to me he wouldn’t. Which maybe have saved his life. Or maybe I just prevented him from finally becoming the man he is, today, for just a little while.

ID: Because now Nightwing is Batman. So I take it you’d trust him to take on Bane today?

B: I have no doubt that he’d beat the hell out of Bane in record time. And the deaths, and the violence, everything that went wrong because I put the wrong man in charge trying to shelter him, that’s on my head.

[Continued Friday, or earlier.]

Love(s) of My Life: Baby Mama

ID: I’m going to be uncharacteristically provocative and just drop this research bombshell: you have a bastard son.

B: I suppose that’s technically true.

ID: And I know who the baby mama is. Daughter of the infamous ecoterrorist and founder of the League of Assassins, Ra’s al Ghul. Wait. He’s her father. The baby mama is Talia, his daughter.

B: That’s… less accurate, on account of a questionable legal technicality.

ID: Meaning?

B: We were married at the time of his conception. Technically.

ID: Okay, there’s a story, there.

B: I was captured by the League of Assassins, and drugged. It’s called ‘groom kidnapping,’ colloquially Pakaruah shaadi. A form of nonconsensual marriage.

ID: Wait, isn’t that an Indian thing?

B: We were in India at the time.

But the first time I met Talia was during a power struggle within Ra’s organization; she saved my life, then. We had a connection. Maybe that’s just because we both grew up in the shadow of determined, successful men, and spent our childhood training, our entire lives in preparation. We were both intelligent, capable, beautiful- mostly I mean her, on that last one.

The fact that she was Ra’s daughter added a whole Romeo and Juliet angle that I think just made it

ID: Hotter?

B: Forbidden. Taboo. Which made it hotter, I guess. It created tension, even more tension on top of the fact that… I’m trying to figure out how to say this without coming off as a complete douche bag, but… I could kill you in a moment with my bare hands. I can outsmart most people- even those with enhanced minds. Back in the day I could bench over 600 lbs.

ID: Jesus.

B: And Talia is basically my female equivalent. And if you’re talking psychological damage, she might even be more than my equal.

ID: Sounds kind of like a dig.

B: It isn’t. When you get a certain level of damaged, you stop being able to really relate to people who haven’t suffered traumatically. The people I know the best, the ones I really relate to, all have personal, familial tragedies. I think it helps you put your own experiences into perspective. So finding a woman with problems comparable to mine, was nice.

We had a longstanding flirtation. In fact, India wasn’t the first time we hooked up. But that time, we were, like I said, technically married. Which made me less cautious than I might have otherwise been. And I knocked her up.

For a long time, Ra’s had been trying to make me his successor, which meant taking over his League of Assassins and also marrying his daughter. And I wasn’t happy, when I found out I’d been forcibly married. But I also… I loved Talia. Her father was cruel, and manipulative, maybe even evil, but the moments I had with her were so perfect. And I’d never even really thought about being a father, and finding out I was going to be… it was probably the happiest day of my life. Because it was something that wasn’t part of the plan, part of my obsessive quest to protect others. It was something selfish, something that was just mine. And maybe it was even a way out for me.

By that point, my first Robin was all grown up, and I thought maybe it would be okay for me to retire. Maybe the world could make it with a different man running around in a pointy-eared cowl. And there was a part of me that thought I could use the League of Assassins. They were already heavily trained martial artists highly skilled in stealth. I thought it might be a viable start to an organization of international batmans, a Batman, Inc., if you will.

But I wasn’t the only one vying for Ra’s mantle. Unbeknownst to me, I had a rival in the League. He attacked me- attacked both of us- at dinner. I fought him, but he would have killed me had Talia not shot him. And as a result of the attack, Talia had a miscarriage.

We mourned together, and it was the closest I’d ever been to those moments after my parents’ death- only I wasn’t alone, this time. And I probably would have stayed with her- not in India, obviously, but with her. But she had a change of heart. She told me I wasn’t the same man when I was married to her. I wasn’t going to survive the life her father wanted for us- and I was no good to her dead. So we dissolved the marriage.

ID: But, that isn’t the end of the story, of course. Because little Damian didn’t die.

B: No. I wonder if that was her father’s doing or not. Maybe that was how he planned to get his successor- not to use me, as I was, but to mix my genes with his family’s.

Maybe Talia simply had second thoughts. Maybe she wanted to let me go, because she didn’t want me if it had to come from her father’s goons dragging me to her.

Whatever the case, I suspect she didn’t know about Damian, either. Because I don’t think she would have chosen to raise him in the League of Assassins. And if she had, I guarantee you, he would have learned compassion much more thoroughly. But that’s the story of how I lost Damian. His mother, on the other hand, never went far.

Because her father’s ambition never stopped. And so she and I had lots of opportunities to bump into each other

ID: ’s uglies. Sorry, couldn’t resist.

B: I don’t suppose you could. But I think ours became a love that was unrequited out of necessity. To be with her, I was going to have to stop being Batman. And for her to be with me, she was going to have to abandon her father. And I don’t think either of us was prepared for that.

But years later, after the earthquake, I lost hope. I was a man in a bat costume. The world was in chaos, and all I could do was hurl batarangs at it. That’s why I went to Washington to ask for help. The things I usually did to tackle a problem, weren’t going to work. So I tried to do something else- possibly something more grown up. But because of Luthor’s grip on the political conversation at that point, nothing came of it.

So I went away empty-handed, without a plan of action. And for me, not to have a plan- I was rudderless. Talia found me, in my hotel room. I was drunk- actually drunk. And she sobered me up, and convinced me to go back to Gotham. In retrospect, she was working with Luthor by that point, and probably knew something was afoot. But the important thing was she found me, in a moment of weakness, and helped me get back up.

ID: So wait, Talia finally had a chance to have you to herself, when you’d already lost the taste for being Batman, and she pushed you back into the costume?

B: Yeah. I think she knew that she could have me, but that what she’d have was a shell. I couldn’t be happy having failed Gotham; I couldn’t retire then. I had to be standing, on my feet, first. Maybe it was just her same MO: letting me go, and hoping I’d return to her in my own time.

ID: Well, you’re not Batman anymore. So why haven’t you gone back to her?

B: Not to cheapen our relationship, but that feels a little like asking a man why he ordered the steak and not the lamb.

ID: Actually, given your more recent proclivities, it’s like asking a man why he’s ordered the salad after being offered the steak and the lamb.

B: Cute. But I think it comes down to the fact that I used Bruce Wayne as a distraction and a deflection. By being boring, and shallow, and vapid, in my “personal” life, only people who read gossip columns cared, and even then, only superficially. But coming out- even only half out- that would have led to all kinds of questions, and increased scrutiny. I’ve always been, curious, I guess might be the worried, about the same sex. I’ve experimented, sure- it’s not like these are my first forays- but for the first time I feel freed up to test those other waters, without endangering the people I care about.

Which isn’t to say that I’m going to never eat meat again

ID: I can’t but feel that our metaphor was accidentally backwards.

B: Just that right now I’m feeling more like a salad. Maybe, as in noneuphemistic dinners, it’s just an appetizer, but right now that’s what I’m craving.

ID: Okay, to get back to Talia for a second, here’s something: you had unprotected sex with her.

B: She was my wife.

ID: Not my point. Presumably, back then, you weren’t HIV positive, or riddled with the AIDS. But since your love life, using very vague timelines in my head, crossed over that threshold, there must have come a point when you had to stop her and demand that you use protection.

B: I’m Batman. I always use protection

ID: Nice PSA

B: outside the context of monogamous, long-term relationships- and since Talia wasn’t usually either of those things, pretty much all the time. But it did come up. Because I think there’s a responsibility, there, to be forthright, and honest, and just extra cautious. We were kissing, and she reached for my utility belt, and I just stopped her, and said, “I’m HIV positive.”

And she said, “I know,” and went back to kissing me. Which made sense. I told you, she’s as close to me having a ‘my other half’ as I’ve ever been. And I would have known if she’d tested positive.

ID: Doesn’t that strike you as a bit of a violation?

B: It might be. I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve always been an information junky. Because information is what’s kept me alive, doing dangerous and potentially stupid things, for most of my life. I rarely stop and consider the morality behind it. I think there are probably still people in my life who would be offended by that. But it’s who I am. I’m not trying to justify it, rationalize or say that that makes it okay. If you’re offended you’re offended. But that’s just who I am. I don’t think I could change it, even if I felt I needed to. It’s a compulsion to know, to be prepared.

ID: And yet they used to call Clark the Big Blue Boyscout.

B: As far as preparedness goes, Clark never had a thing on me- though he did wear more blue.

Love(s) of My Life: Selina

ID: Okay, I've been hoping for an opportunity like this one.

B: I shudder to think.

ID: Both as background, and anticipating we might end up using it as a sidebar, I tried to contact the subject of this week's interview: Selina Kyle.

B: She turned you down.

ID: She's a slippery minx- though I've had much worse; people who agree to an interview then duck, dodge and weave around every attempt to actually set it up. At least Selina never gave me more than a maybe- and even then, it was a vague maybe. But enough about my inability to catch the Catwoman, tell me how you did.

B: We met at a fundraiser for an animal rights group... it wasn't PETA, but the specific charity is escaping me at the moment. Anyway, my assistant had caved, and agreed for me to meet Ms. Kyle. I knew her by reputation, and was more than happy to donate to her cause, but less thrilled about actually talking to her.

ID: So she had a reputation?

B: Yeah. Actually, the reputation wasn't bad; she was an activist, and very quick. I guess, in retrospect, she had kind of a Michael Moore ability to ambush businesspeople with questions about their companies, usually aspects they weren't aware of, to shame them into donating small fortunes. And Bruce Wayne was supposed to be the dull flack, not a lightning rod. So I spent most of the night at this fundraiser avoiding her.

And I did what I thought was an admirable job keeping her at a distance, until a presentation. A beautiful woman stood up and, it was about jungle cats and their shrinking habitat. And she spoke so eloquently, that it was difficult to remember that we were talking about animals and not human beings. She moved quite a few people in the audience to tears.

And when she finished speaking, she fixed me this look, and it was just like the look in those jungle cat's eyes in her presentation- stunning, emerald eyes. I asked my assistant, a little breathless, “Who is that?” Meanwhile, the woman starts to stalk towards me, and my heart starts to race, and I thought that must be how rabbits feel, or maybe how the criminals I hunt feel. My assistant was nose deep in her planner, and the mystery woman had closed half the distance before she looked up and said, “Oh, that’s Ms. Kyle.”

Of course, my first thought was, “Oh sh-”

ID: “it.”

B: My second was, “You know, I think I'd let her embarrass me in front of a room full of rich people.” So I let her catch me. And maybe my company was a little better than the average; maybe she took pity on my

ID: Because of the lantern jaw and the piercing blue eyes?

B: Or because she saw that the better way to my wallet was with a softer touch. But she did give me a hard time for running from her all night. Let me see, I said, “If I had any idea how stunning you were, I'd have found you.”

“So now I'm the prey?” she asked. And, Selina was fun. And wild. A little unpredictable. I had more champagne than I think I'd ever had up to that point in my life- I was actually a little tipsy. I offered to give her a ride home- with Alfred driving, of course- but she said she'd rather walk. We got about a mile from her home before she kicked off her heels, and said, “I'll race you to my apartment.” And I thought I had her, since I was still wearing semi-functional shoes. But she was fast, and kept just ahead of me. But once we got to her apartment, she bounded up the stairs, leaping majestically up several flights of stairs while barely touching down. She was graceful, athletic.

ID: You're getting awfully worked up; you sure you're not at least still bi?

B: Nobody's that gay. Selina is easily- easily- the most sexual woman alive. Just saying her name aloud makes my heart race a little. But you're derailing.

She beat me to her door by so much that by the time I got there she was already inside, looking out at me through a crack. I pushed on the door, thinking she was just holding it for me, but she held it mostly shut. And she said, “I hope you didn't think I was inviting you in. Silly man. I'm not that easy to catch.” Now, it was a little frustrating, but there was something in the way she said it, and the way she smiled at me, that little glint in her eye, I smiled, and went away happy.

I ran into her later that night. Only this time we were both dressed differently. She was in the condo of a wealthy industrialist, one with a lousy environmental record, particularly as it concerned wildlife. He had put in a silent alarm just before he went on vacation- it was new, which is probably the only reason she hadn't known about it. She was removing jewelry from a wall safe when I arrived. I snuck up on her, and grabbed her wrist.

I think we were both still worked up from earlier, because she whirled around and kissed me before she said anything. Then she blushed, and said, “Purrfect.”

ID: That is so weird hearing you trill like that.

B: And I was definitely still worked up, because then I kissed her, and let go of her wrist entirely. Which was great, until she shivved me with some claws in the side and got away. She was more careful after that. I played a lot of catch up, but it was some time before I saw her again in costume.

But what's strange is, even though Selina and I, in our normal lives, dated for a while, it wasn't until we had sex that I realized they were the same person. They kissed differently. But when she was deep in the throes of passion, then, suddenly, she kissed like the Catwoman. And my mind was fairly blown. It probably should have been obvious- just from the amount of time I spent staring at both women, but I suspect, like Lois with Clark, that I really didn't want to know. I wanted to have them, have both of them. Which doesn't even touch the idea that if- or when- I caught her, I was going to lose them both.

And I struggled with it, for a while. I really, really wanted to just leave her be. The fact that there was a cat burglar in the city, that didn't need to be my business. I mean, I cared about keeping families from being torn apart by violence, not industrial profiteers losing small fractions of their ill-gotten wealth. But I knew I was rationalizing, too. Having Catwoman emboldened others- and not all of them were going to keep to her basically nonviolent code. So I watched her for a couple of weeks. She was keeping her scores in several different hiding spots. I made sure I knew where all of them were. Then I emptied them. I left safe deposit keys or other identifying hallmarks in a small pile on her coffee table, with a note that read, “It stops or I stop it,” and a little bat symbol.

She sent a card to the Manor, and all it said was, “Thanks, Bruce.” It was the first inkling I had that she knew, too. She disappeared, and I didn't see her for a while. The next time I did, she was operating in more morally gray territory, sabotaging animal experiments, exposing exploitation. And when I saw her in costume, we flirted like we always had, but when I saw her socially, she was different. I think she was hurt, by the fact that I hadn't trusted her enough to come to her as Bruce, to tell her who I was since I knew who she was. I wonder... that might have been the breaking point, actually. I loved her. About as deeply as I ever have loved anyone. And I think, if I hadn't hidden behind Batman, I think she would have married me.

ID: So you asked?

B: Not then. No. Because after that she was distant.

It changed after the earthquake. She really stepped up. When people needed help, she put aside her pet cause, and saved lives. And I think from there, it was inevitable. We always had an affection for one another. I'd never formally told her I was Bruce, and one night, when we'd just kind of bumped into one another patrolling, I gave her a lift in the Batmobile. We passed her street, and she caught herself almost objecting. I drove her to the cave, and once we were there I took off my mask and kissed her. She told me she'd been waiting for years for that. I told her I was scared; I didn't want to put her in even more danger. She said she could handle herself, and that she wasn't willing to give me the choice this time.

ID: Okay. But it ended. So why?

B: Because I was scared. I think that's always been, and always will be, the problem with Selina. She doesn't have fear. She'll leap off a moving train to save a single tiger, or a building to get away from me. But I'm afraid. I was afraid to tell her who I really was- which I think will always be a point of contention. And I'll always be afraid that I've put her in greater danger, caused her more harm and pain.

ID: Okay, that's the background, but get specific. You two were a hot item, and then maybe cooled off, but what was the catalyst, the final straw.

B: Hush cut out her heart.

ID: Seriously?

B: Yeah. He had some help, cryogenically, from Mr. Freeze. I wonder if I have Victor to thank for her surviving- since I imagine he'd have seen a kinship with someone else whose love was frozen.

ID: But he cut out her heart?

B: He was a surgeon. And it was entirely to get at me. If she'd bumped into him on a patrol, or whatever, it might be different. But he targetted her, to get at me. It was the realization of my fear. And I couldn't be afraid. Batman can't be afraid. He has to be able to trust the people he works with to keep themselves safe. And with her, I couldn't. Which isn't entirely fair to her, I know- and I don't know if she'll ever forgive me for it. But that's how it is.

ID: That's... sad. But... you're not Batman anymore. Why not track her down and give her some When Harry Met Sally speech?

B: I wouldn't say never. But I will say that, right now, I don't think Selina's interested. Once bitten, twice shy; but that's twice now she's been bitten. I couldn't blame her if she was just through with me.

Love(s) of My Life: Zatanna

B: But getting back to our look at the women I’ve loved, I thought we’d talk about Zatanna. Because she’s a magician.

ID: I would have gone with the obvious, “Wonder Woman called me this morning,” but whatever, it’s your dime.

B: But in honor of Zatanna, I figured I’d use a bit of misdirection.

ID: Clever.

B: Zatanna might have been my first real crush.

I remember the first time I met her. My dad put together a big event for the local children's shelter. I think it was a Christmas thing, though he shied away from doing too much Christmas-y, that year, because he found out Gotham actually has a goodly sized Jewish population, too. So he had a petting zoo, and magic.

Zatanna’s father was a stage magician named John Zatara, and he came on stage with a flash of light and smoke. And out from behind him stepped a cute girl about my age, with dark hair, and big dark eyes, and a smile that made even the most down-trodden orphan smile with her. And I told my mom, “He's got a lovely assistant,” and she smiled down at me the way mothers do.

There was a little flower shop a couple of doors down from the shelter, and I got my allowance from my mom and bought her some roses, and handed them to her when she and her father were taking their bows, and she smiled. And she was at that age where she had a mouthful of mismatched, oversized teeth. I was so smitten I still thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen- not that I guess I had too active a social life back then.

We palled around for the rest of the night, but she and her father were nomads- they travelled around the country performing. So when I asked if I could see her, maybe for dinner or a show, she told me she would be gone to Metropolis the next day. And in New York the day after. Then elsewhere. But she promised, next time she and her father were in Gotham, we would.

That’s probably where it would have ended, just a silly little night of crushing; I don’t know if she would have taken me up on dinner or a movie. But my parents died. After I emerged from my stupor, I started to form a plan, the very rough outlines of what the Batman would become. And the very first person I sought out for that plan was Zatanna and her father.

I think John was important in my grieving process. It was more than just a desire to learn about illusion and misdirection. I wanted to disappear. And not just in a puff of smoke. Training with John let me get away from my parents' friends, and everyone who wanted to coddle me and swaddle me. It let me stop being the boy with the murdered parents, or even the Wayne heir; it let me be just Bruce for a while, when I really needed to be Bruce. So did Zatanna.

We dated, if anything kids that young do can be called dating. I don’t know if she cared for me, or if she just grieved with me.

ID: How did it end?

B: I finished my training. But I still stayed, months longer than I planned, than I needed. I told myself I was honing my skills, perfecting them before moving on to the next phase. But eventually I couldn't lie to myself anymore. Her dad had nothing left to teach me- at least nothing left I could learn without a talent for real magic.

ID: Real magic?

B: Magic exists. I think it was part of the reason I went to John in the first place. I… thought about bringing my family back. John… helped me see that I shouldn’t. There are a lot of challenges, and potential consequences, but it was the psychology of it that he focused on. Loss is a part of life. I needed to cope with that fact. He helped me see that. And Zatanna helped me survive it.

ID: But that’s not the end of the story, is it? You two reconnected.

B: She lost her father, during a crises several years ago. I flew in for the funeral.

ID: And that made you two even closer?

B: It could have. Except that she didn’t take it the way I had. Because for a while, my parent’s death murdered me. I wandered around in a daze, unable to think or to feel. I would have simply starved, if Alfred hadn’t fed me, with a spoon, like I was a baby. I had to relearn how to be alive after that. Even after I learned to function, it’s something that is with me, daily. It’s a conscious decision, now, but from a very young age, it was my purpose and my motivation, keeping other people from that kind of trauma.

Maybe it was because she was at that point already an adult, but Zatanna reacted differently. Maybe, in part, it’s because her father died a hero, fighting for something he believed in. Maybe she really is just a sunnier person than I am. And she was sad- heartbroken, even; she loved her father more than any other person in the world. But she was still a happy person. Hopeful. Optimistic. I love that about her. I love it enough, in fact, that I told her no.

This was years later, after the pain of her father’s death had passed- at least as much as it ever could. She reasoned I still owed her a movie, or dinner. And we went out. And she was wonderful. And beautiful. Sexy- if you’ve never seen her in civilian clothes, you have no idea how incredibly sexy she can look even without the revealing tuxedo. And she told me she loved me, and that she always had, since we were kids. I had, too, actually. And she wanted to see more of me. See if there was still anything there- or rather, whether there was something adult there, on top of a mutual childhood affection. And I said no.

ID: But, but she’s leggy. And, and adorable.

B: I know. And it was hard to tell her no, believe me on that. But it’s right for her.

ID: Isn’t that a bit… paternalistic.

B: I don’t think she views me as a father figure. But no. She’s my friend- one of my favorite people in the world. Her happiness is very important to me.

Too important, I’d say, to risk on a very unsure bet. Because the women I’ve been with… well, I don’ always remain friendly with them afterwards. They end up damaged and unhappy- and that’s not counting the ones who end up getting truly hurt- like Vesper. I don’t know if there’s a single woman whose ever been happier for having known me, and for most of them they leave with even more baggage. And I couldn’t do that to her, I couldn’t be responsible for making Zatanna brood, not even for an evening. It’s a selfish decision, I know, but I need people like her in my life far more than I do in my bed.

But on the subject, I think, at the end of my life, I’d like to disappear. I don’t want what Clark had, a year or more of people looking at him with pity. Treating every whatever like it’s my last, whether it’s Thanksgiving, or my sons’ birthdays. I’d like to be able to slip away in the night, without anyone having to expend any of that extra energy, just suddenly being gone, in a cloud of smoke.

ID: Okay. But because I'd like to do a fishnets thing, howsabout Black Canary?

B: Kissed her a few times, though Ollie, her new husband but longtime hanger-on, can rest easy, it never progressed past there.

ID: That's disappointing. You're making it difficult to live vicariously through you.

B: Really? You might be the first person to complain that I haven't been promiscuous enough. Particularly in light of the AIDS.

ID: Low blow. We were bantering, and you had to go and bring up life-threatening STDs. Now I'm depressed. Quickly, to the Baskin-Robbins-mobile!

B: All right, but you’re buying.