Disclaimer: I do not own Batman.

Salve, Salvage, & Salvation

- - - - - Prologue: "Salve" - - - - -

SWITT!

Selina felt the wind of the unexpected blade as she dodged, just barely in time. Another inch, and it would have embedded itself in her spine.

Whoever it was had some nerve to attack her! She'd had a long night already, what with stealing the prize jewels from a private exhibit, one that was secretly being patronized by none other than Harv - or as he preferred, Two-Face. She honestly didn't know or care why he was taking an interest in jewelry, but she hadn't forgiven him for giving away half her loot to his lecherous gang four months ago. Payback time!

She had almost gotten away unscathed, until a strong wind had blown a leaf in the room, through the glass roof pane she'd left open. A leaf. Then the next thing she knew, sirens were blaring and she was running harder than usual, racing across the rooftop as the cops arrived at the gallery. Not surprising their alarms were so sensitive, with the size of those rocks. She had gotten away unseen, moving in shadow, and she was now several blocks away and victorious, even though her stamina was a little shot. No worries.

…Until this loser, whoever he was, decided to make a play at skinning her? He was going to regret it! Catwoman turned to look at who could be so foolish to attack her. She got quite a shock.

"Mr. Zsasz. What the hell do you want?"

"What I want is simple," the Butcher replied with a leer. "I am here to offer you my gift." As usual, he was shirtless, and his scars gleamed in the orange streetlights. He was wielding a very large blade, as well as several smaller ones for throwing. God, total knife nut! she scoffed to herself. And good aim too, damn it all...

It was past dark, way past Gotham's bedtime, and this was when Arkham came out to play. Catwoman had seen all sorts of fellow rogues in the night. From the malevolent smile the Butcher was giving her, she could have gladly gone without seeing him.

"Does your gift have a return policy?"

"So pointless to delay the inevitable." It creeped her out when he talked like this. "I need your mark, Catwoman! I want it!"

"My mark? Oh, that's rich. You, take on me?" She took out her bolas and almost casually began to swing them. "C'mon."

Zsasz wasted no time in charging her, knife outstretched, and Catwoman barely dodged. Mentally she cursed. She had forgotten about his speed. She released the bolas, and Zsasz dodged them in turn, knife still outstretched. He looked manic.

She just barely managed to move out of the way when he came at her with three quick swipes. One caught on the leather of her outfit, but just a glance, and then she was holding his arm still, throwing a quick knee into his face, and moving back again on the defensive.

"You fight so well, Catwoman." She flinched at his sneering voice. "So very well for an existence of stealing and looting, looting and stealing. What kind of life can you call that?"

"Before you begin, stop with the cure bullshit, I don't want to be 'liberated' or whatever creepy thing you call it!" she hissed. Briefly, morbidly she wondered how he would pose her if – IF – he ever managed to kill her.

She wondered if Batman would find her.

Zsasz's voice grew even higher. "I am offering you a gift, one of salvation! I can paint the walls right here with your crimson blood! I will save you from a life filled with fear of what would happen to your life without your precious robbing. One of coming home to your cats but never a person, always alone…"

"Oh please!" As the Butcher charged her again, she threw caltrops on the ground. Zsasz groaned as he tripped on one, pulling the offending steel out of his foot and backing up, but quickly came up with a handful of throwing knives, which he wasted no time in unleashing toward Catwoman.

She just barely dodged the knives. One nicked her across the back, slashing through her costume and drawing blood. She hissed silently, not letting him see her reaction. When she turned, he was already on his feet, with two large knives this time. She purred.

"Ooh, nice, wanna see mine?"

He saw a blur as she lunged out. He felt the wind as her clawed fingertips barely grazed his nose. Just a scratch.

Catwoman twirled, advancing forward with each spin, leading with her clawed hands. He was moving backward fluidly, out of reach of her attacks, though some came close. He moved to the other side of the caltrops. If she wanted to follow she might trip on them herself and be at his mercy. Either way, no matter, she would die. He still had more throwing knives.

"You will bleed, piggy!" he shrilled. "I need it! I need your mark!" He brandished a knife and aimed.

"Don't make me humiliate you, Mr. Zsasz," Catwoman cooed, right before she struck.

Her whip, her most famous weapon. Why didn't he anticipate this? The Catwoman was tricky. Her first blow scratched his wrist, making him drop the knife with a cry of pain. The whip sang through the air, slashing across his forehead. "Oooh, did I mess up your body count?"

With growing horror, he reached up to feel the deep gash across his once-perfect marks. He gasped in fury. "You- you- harpy! When I get my hands on you-!" He covered his forehead, blood dripping through his fingers, and affixed her with a murderous stare that chilled her to the bone. "I was saving that spot!" Suddenly the biggest knife she had ever seen was in his hand, and he was aiming it toward her stomach. Catwoman snarled and prepared to pounce – when the blaring of sirens came suddenly and very close.

In another sudden mood swing, she coyly blew him a kiss. "Sorry, Zsasz, a girl's gotta run! It's been a blast!"

He turned to deliver a feral gaze. "We will settle this later, piggy!" When he realized he was talking to air, he made an angry sound.

Once she had run far enough away on the rooftops, the cocky catburgler stopped and rubbed her leather-clad arms, shuddering. "Man, Mr. Zsasz gives me the creeps!" She absently rubbed her back, where the blood was still fresh from his strike. "Next time I see him, I'll turn him into a scratching post, but for now… Time for a long hot shower and a good night's sleep!" And with that, her whip cracked and she disappeared into the night.

Left alone, Zsasz frantically looked around for a house, somewhere with a First Aid kit. He wasn't picky; it didn't matter to him if there were people in there or not. He just needed something to stop the bleeding and hopefully stop the scarring as well. He spotted a nearby apartment, not shabby-looking at all. It happened to be empty. Well, the residents were in for a surprise when they came home.

He found the Neosporin in their bathroom. Gritting his teeth - it was all he could do not to shatter the glass of the mirror in his frustration - he washed off the blood and swabbed the ointment over his forehead – all over the mark he didn't make. Damn you, Catwoman! He was saving this spot, for someone special…

She had better hope that the mark her whip made would disappear. Otherwise he would have to collect on that mark …and if he couldn't kill the Batman himself, then what better way than skinning a certain cat?

-0-

A/N: I've heard that in the comics his "special spot" for Batman is under one of his eyelids (edit: just heard that it's actually for Jeremiah Arkham, nevermind). Given his graphic design in the video game, I'm making it his forehead here, because it seems that's where they were going.

Props to all the Zsasz writers here. The world needs more Zsasz stories! :D