A/N: Just a short oneshot that somehow came from a prompt on reader's digest. Please enjoy.Donna rinsed her face with cold water. As cold as the tap would provide. No one would ever believe this. No one. Not even her younger sister, who seemed more inclined to believe her crazy stories. Even May would think her mad is Donna told her what she had seen in the wee hours of this morning.

It was one thing to notice strange aspects of some people: how their eyes seemed oddly cat-like, how their skin had greenish tints and scales, how some only had one eye, even when she wasn't looking cross eyed, and, wait, did that person have miniature wings?

It was another to admit to seeing a small, eager, furry face pressed against her window at two in morning, its maroon, slit eyes glowing like lanterns. She might have been able to ignore it and just roll back into sleep, but then the creature grinned, widely, like the Chesire cat, who used to come calling in Donna's nightmares as a young girl.

She had kicked herself inside as she pushed off her delightfully warm covers and had made her way over to the window, strangely aware that her nightgown, young though it was as she had gotten it before she reached ten, hugged all her curves, which had grown larger since her childhood, even if her height hadn't changed much. He (it was he, she could tell) was only a (most peculiar) cat (and it wouldn't have surprised her teenaged body if this cat was a 'peeping tom').

But she had pressed her face against the glass, looking at his. But he retreated away from the window, but certainly not out of sight. He rose and stood on two paws. Donna had watched in astonishment as he began to...transform. He grew taller and larger, into a man's figure.

At one point, the fur had begun to change color, until it resembled a tuxedo much more than normal cats said to have 'tuxedo' coats.

And then, he really was human. Not dressed in a tux though More like a nineteenth century suit complete with waistcoat and tails.

His eyes were...more human, but his pupils were still slits, still set in maroon irises. When he grinned, Donna had shivered; his canines were sharp.

The cat-man had turned tail (and she had thought she saw one peeking through the suit too) and left. That night she dreamt of tribes of jungle people who sharpened their teeth.

And unfortunately, Donna remembered both the event from last night and the dreams. She left the bathroom, opting to skip breakfast so she wouldn't miss the bus to school.

The cat was hanging around the bus stop when she got there. Flirting (because apparently cats could flirt now) with the other girls from her neighborhood, who had had the legendary pubescent growth spurts which she had (fortunately, though she hadn't always thought so) missed out on.

"I wouldn't hug him like that," she said, advising one of the girls cuddling him up to her chest.

"Why not?" Her eyes were big and innocent. Donna could almost feel the cat smirk (at this rate, nothing would surprise her anymore, or at least cats).

"He's a pervert. A peeping tom if you will." He kept on smirking.

The girl laughed. "He's only a cat, silly."

The next day, Donna wound up at a psychologist's. May had the hots for him for a long time. He had maroon eyes. It was then Donna decided to be a dog person.

"And how are you doing today, Miss Angela." Angela was her first name, but she vowed never to use it again after hearing his voice use it.

"Its Donna, Mr.?"

"My name's Sebastian Michaelis."

And she prayed that Bruce Wayne would never need another butler.