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[center][h1]March 19th, 2005[/h1]

[h2]National Television, United States (6:00 PM)[/h2][/center]

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[b]"This transmission was transmitted through the internet several hours ago, and I warn you that the following recording is not for the faint of heart. If you have any children watching, I suggest you take them out of the room now."[/b]

Vicki Vale's pretty, red-headed, Marilyn Monroe face flashes briefly on the television screen. She's all in dark today. Dark, plum lipstick, heavy globs of almost-winged eyeliner, perfectly arched eyebrows painted so deeply black they look almost out of touch with the symmetry of Vicki's face. 

"She's a hottie," Holly Robinson comments, "What I wouldn't give to bang her."

Beside her, sitting on the couch with the unnameable price-tag, is Alice Tesla. Alice snorts, but her eyes never pry away from whatever she's tinkering with to watch the news. The news is important, Holly thinks, though she's tempted to flick through the channels and find something more entertaining. If only Alice would watch with her. It's so much easier to digest something boring when you've got a friend to discuss it with. But Alice is all-together preoccupied, and could care less about what gorgeous Vale has to say.

Holly forces herself to keep watching. Vicki waves one of those elegant long arms, and the screen switches from the image of Gotham's best personal sexy journalist (take that, Lois Lane), to some symbol that Holly could care less about. A disgusting...[i]thing[/i] raises its zombified red dome from the bottom of the screen and begins blabbering about something. 

Holly wants to not listen. His face is...disconcerting. But she listens because she thinks what he says is wrong. Getting rid of the big guns...the weirdos and freaks that protect the world today...doesn't sound like a particularly good idea.  

The thing ends its disagreeing speech with “Heil HYDRA," and just like that, Vicki Vale's attractive face and voluptuous lips are back on screen. Hydra sounds familiar, like something Holly learned in school, that maybe she should have paid more attention too. She dotes on it for a few moments, before her mind drifts to lighter things, and she begins pestering Tesla, who's put down her little machine. Her eyes are glued to the television screen, and Holly assumes she started listening sometime when the man was mid-way through his disgruntled complaints.

"Do you think Vicki is [i]gay[/i]," Holly drones, and Alice, who seems tense, laughs, relaxes and sinks into the sofa. 

"Why don't you ask her?" She retorts, while Vicki starts going on about the local superhero news.

"And where exactly would I meet her?"

"The broadcasting building, duh." Alice says, and Holly wants to smack herself because it's such an obvious answer.

"Just stand outside like a creep, waiting for her," the girl continues, "And when she walks out, ask her if she wants to have sex with you."

Holly bites her lower lip, resisting the urge to laugh, because she knows its a joke. Alice is blatantly smiling, because she knows it'll never work. 

"Do you think she would have sex with Catwoman?" Holly asks.

"Why?...[i]Oh.[/i] I really don't think Selina would approve of you using the catsuit for that kind of thing."

"Oh come on. Lots of people do kinky cat fantasies. Maybe Vicki'd be into it."

"[i]If[/i] she's even gay."

"Hmm...Oh, look. Sel's boyfriend is on."

Vicki's voice dabbles on as a brief, looping video of Batman and Robin grapple hooking from building to building plays on the screen.  

Just then, there's the clicking of multiple tumblers going off, coming from the front door of a loft too decked out to be real. Selina shuffles in; a big purple bruise has blossomed out under her chin, spreading from its laceration like water colors on paper. She's looks sheepish, beaten and bruised as she is, and her hands are tucked away snugly behind her back. There's a...suspicious smile on her face, mischievous, like she's done something she shouldn't have.

It's honestly not a far cry to suspect she [i]has[/i]. Sel isn't particular about the law, especially when it applies to theft. 

"What happened?" Holly and Alice ask in unison, and Selina grimaces for a moment, one of her hands reaching out from behind her back and up to her face, flitting lightly over the lash she's received under her chin.

"Some guy, trying to harass one of the girls." Selina always refers to prostitutes as "the girls," as though she has an intimate connection with every prostitute on the streets. Though, considering their blossoming reputation for saving prostitutes, it could almost be said that she deserves to refer to them that way.

"He clipped me under my chin. Left a nasty cut and this ugly ass bruise."

"Aw, poor baby," Holly says, and flits off the couch to go peck Sel ever so lightly on the lips.

"You guys are [i]weird[/i]." Alice comments, though not in a nasty way, "To be friends, or not to be friends," she murmurs, more to herself than the Catwomen.

Both ladies smirk, but don't say anything about it. Their relationship has always been "weird."

"So," Holly says, "Where's the dough."

"Well," Selina eyes the ceiling for a little while, then, slowly, pulls out from behind her a small bundle of gray and white.    

"No, please, please no." Holly says, and Alice is shaking her head. There's the part that hasn't been mentioned yet. The cats. All the cat, slinking around in the unknown corners of the loft, coming and going as they please, from the open window in Selina's room.  

"You're an impulse buyer, Selina."

"I didn't [i]buy[/i] her, I [i]found[/i] her." She shoves the small kitten in Holly hands, who grimaces, but cradles the animal like a human infant anyway. There's no merit in being cruel to animals. 

"We've never had a kitten before." Alice says, as the woman make their way to the couch, where they, all three, squish together comfortably to continue watching T.V. The kitten settles happily in Holly's lap, and jealous Isis, Selina's naked molerat of a cat, comes and curls herself up on her master's lap.

"Where's the [i]other[/i] dough," Holly asked, and Selina grins, zipping down her suit and sticking her hand in her bra to reveal...taadaa...an amalgamation of jewelry.

"I hope you don't have earring in there," Holly mutters, and Selina rolls her eyes, extracting from her suit's pocket a variety of studs and loosing hanging ear jewelry.

"Hmm, who'd you hit this time."

"Some big gothamite. I don't even know his name, but he's loaded up his wife with all sorts of trinkets to keep her happy. But, I guess she won't be so happy tonight. Oh," Selina's emerald eyes light up like jewelry reflecting sunlight, "Something momentous, [i]did[/i] happen."

Holly raises an arched eyebrow, and Selina continues, "Penguin's contact me," she says nonchalantly, though the excitement is reflected in her jittery hands, that can't stop pulling at Isis's pink ears, "Wants to meet up with me some time soon. He said...he has a job for me. Something only Catwoman can do."

"Ohh," Holly drawls, "This should be interesting."