1.

It was simple, he just wanted to work as he usually did. When asked what his job was, he would answer 'President and CEO of Wayne Enterprises.' But that was neither his job nor what he was working on. While true, that's what he did; his actual duties were to the city and keeping her safe. Simple. That was what he wanted to do on that particular night. Knock some bad-guy heads together, maybe stop a mugging or two, or if it was a particularly jazzy night even disarm a death ray. Simplicity. That's all he wanted. Apparently, that was too much to ask.

Fingers flying on the keyboard, Bruce Wayne sat at the helm of the Batcave mostly armed in the suit, cape and belt slung over the back of the chair for less distraction and cowl removed from his face. He was focusing on several screens at once, following current incoming 9-1-1 calls, police dispatches and diving further into the current burglary cases he was investigating. The connected burglary cases he was investigating.

"Sir?"

The familiar British accent rang behind him, but Bruce barely heard it. "Hmm?" Was all he managed as his mind concentrated on finding any traces of evidence the cops might have missed via the crime scene photos. "Are you in need of anything before you leave, sir?" Alfred inquired. "Nngh…" Was the eloquent response, and a wave of his gloved hand in dismissal. An eyebrow quirked up on Alfred's face, but he didn't press for an answer. He knew all he would receive were grunts and occasionally a murmur of something incomprehensible when Bruce got like this. Rising to his feet, Bruce finished dressing in the Batsuit. "Be back later, Alfred." His smooth voice rumbled as he crossed the cave in large strides. "Try not to get shot, Master Bruce." "Mmm."


As Batman perched, the edge of the current building he was on serving as the perfect vantage point to scan the streets, he observed silence. He'd been working on this area of Gotham for a few days now, and criminals had noticed. They either took their business elsewhere or chose not to take part in illegal activities altogether. It pleased a small part inside of him to know that his mere presence on a ledge could halt crime for several blocks.

Bruce stood, cape lapping at his ankles in the breeze, and sobered up from his pride. He had been working in this area because several robberies had occurred and for the life of him he couldn't catch the perpetrator. Every which way he thought of to get even a glimpse of the thief, it seems said thief had thought of as well. While the ever elusive criminal was stealing what they wanted, when they wanted, he barely had a lead on what sort of weapons they were equipped with. A growl escaped his throat at the thought and his ire was sparked anew. He was not leaving the streets until he had more information.

They had to be smart to plan such perfect crimes. Very smart. They also had to be strong, athletic. The athleticism necessary to weave by all the cameras and make such clean escapes was not found in average people. That meant they could probably put up a good fight. But, while this person was muscular, they had to be agile and probably fairly small. Batman himself could pull off the same sort of movements, but he or anyone with his same build wouldn't be able to slip out of the windows this thief escaped from, the tiny holes they'd made and slipped through, and they would have a tougher time hiding-

There was a woman on the ledge of the building diagonal from him.

Batman's throat went dry. Was she attempting to kill herself? It wasn't uncommon in Gotham. She was on the ledge, looking over the sides. The roof she was on was taller than his and both the angle and the physics to catch her were risky. But as he watched the feminine silhouette, he began picking up odd details.

For one, she had some sort of points on her head. Second, she wasn't walking around on the edge; she was frolicking on it, as if balancing for her life was a game. And third, he recognized the building as the home of one of the snobby colleagues he frequently invited to benefits. Their penthouse sat atop the upscale apartments. And now there was a woman atop the roof of the penthouse on the upscale apartments. In an area where burglaries were happening nearly every night. Something was very wrong.

And then she jumped.

His breath hitched anyway and he readied himself to glide and attempt to catch her, but in an instant, the woman released something that caught the flag pole attached to the next building over and as the crack of a whip reached his ears, she swung around the corner out of sight. Batman leapt from his perch, shooting his grappling gun and swinging in pursuit of the thief that was finally within his grasp.

Once around the corner, he watched his prey clawing up the side of the wall before disappearing onto the roof. He quickly reeled himself to the fire escape of the neighboring building. He was going to shadow her and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Keeping a healthy—yet manageable—distance from her, Batman kept to the shadows and made sure she was in his sight the whole time. This was a fast, slippery woman and he wasn't going to let her take a sharp turn and lose him. As she dropped to an alleyway, Bruce swung across the way and watched her movements carefully from above.

Out of a pouch on her belt, she retrieved an item that he figured was likely the necklace of the victim's wife. Bruce had seen it before and it was a very expensive, diamond encrusted piece of jewelry. The thief fondled it a bit before pulling out another item, this one piquing Batman's interest more. A gem, a big one, which sparkled so much he could nearly see it from his distance. She held the light green treasure up to the moonlight and examined its beauty.

He moved his foot slightly, a subconscious adjustment that sent a few tiny pieces of gravel to the ground. The woman below froze. She stood still for a moment and Batman wondered if perhaps she hadn't noticed. Moments later when she bolted, he knew otherwise. She quickly stuffed her prizes away as she dashed down the street, then pounced through an alley and sunk her claws into the brick of the nearest wall.

She was halfway up the side when she looked up and saw his menacing form looming over her. Quick as lightning she sprang off the wall and caught the ledge of the neighboring window, using it as leverage to send her frame flying into the shadows of the deep alley below. She had a grace and strength that even Batman had to respect—although her current actions helped him to quell the feeling. He never even heard her land but he knew she was moving fast.

As she darted around several buildings she tried to find one she'd have enough time to climb, but the Bat was mirroring her. If she could get off the ground she knew she could lose him. Finally, she took a sharp turn and hid in the shadows under a fire escape. Figuring the many levels and darkness would conceal her; it was also a good spot that had the moonlight filtering in from behind. She tried to get her ragged breath under control as she watched for the pointy-eared shadow. Silence. There was nothing but silence for what seemed to be forever. Her feminine intuition told her it was not safe to come out, but then she hadn't seen nor heard the man chasing her in—

Leaping and sticking her claws into the platform above her, the woman's lithe form dodged a Batarang that otherwise would have stuck her in the leg. Dropping just as quickly down and rolling out from under her shelter, she dodged three more. Each would have dealt non-lethal blows she figured, but temporarily crippling ones. They weren't difficult for her to dodge. And she imagined he knew that by now. She caught a glint from the corner of her eye and flipped backwards to avoid two more sharp, flying objects. A smirk crossed her lips. "Instead of trying to move me with knives, why don't you come out and do it with your hands?"

"I doubt you'll enjoy that."

In an instant, his boot nearly connected with her, but being the spring that she was, the woman dodged the body blow. Curling her fingers around her whip, she let the length snap and catch his leg. Lunging further back away from him, she used her momentum to pull his leg with her and out from under him. She heard a small grunt before her whip sent her flying forward as he gave it a return yank. Batman quickly wound up more of her whip and sliced it with his arm blades, rendering the weapon useless. Her eyes widened in horror. "That one was my favorite, thank you very much!" She flipped around, swinging her leg towards him, which he dodged, but he couldn't miss the quick claws that slashed his chest as she gracefully came back up in one swift movement. With a hiss through clenched teeth, he caught her arm and swung her up, around, and into the brick wall behind them. He could hear the breath knocked from her body and she momentarily went limp, allowing him to pin her arms to the wall.

"Is that any way to treat a lady?"

"Is that any way for a 'lady' to behave?"

A wheezed chuckle escaped her and she tilted her head to look at him. Normally, when crooks looked Batman in the face, he saw fear in their eyes. He struck them with self doubt, a doubt that they could do nothing other than surrender. When this woman looked him in the eyes, however, her lids fell half closed over her soft green orbs and she let out something he'd equate to a purr. Batman tensed. She nonchalantly looked him over and made sure her approval of him was known with a series of hums. His stomach knotted itself. "If I had known the infamous Batman was such a perfect specimen I might have let you catch me." His heart did a few back flips.

He tried to keep his eyes on her face—her oh-so-close, oh-so-lovely face—and not let his gaze wander—wander down to the skin-tight suit that left little to the imagination or to the hips that could make a man cry or to the legs that were a mile long—no. He wouldn't let her do that to him. He had gashes from this woman. She was a criminal and she had been a thorn in his side for too long already…

But he had the sinking feeling that thorn was only going to dig itself in deeper.

"Where are they?" His voice didn't come out as threatening as he'd wanted—not even nearly threatening. Her leg lightly brushed the side of his. "Where are… what?" She looked so innocent. Don't fall for it. He pushed her harder into the wall, tightened his grip, made her wince. "I won't ask again." There was half the growl that sent most felons running. She arched her back, brushing her body against his and shooting fire through his veins. "The Bat likes it rough, hmm? Whatever you want, honey, I'm easy—" He squeezed her arms tightly to make his point.

She groaned some, "Alright, Mr. All-Business-All-The-Time. They're in my pocket." He looked down at her frame for 'the pocket.' He caught an eyeful of her ample chest, a glimpse of her thin waist and a look at the display when she arched herself into him again, but didn't see the elusive pocket. Her belt had several and in the dark he couldn't see how many others she was concealing on her perfect form. "Which pocket?" Batman snapped, frustration bubbling up from so many places. Mostly south of his belt. The infuriating woman hummed softly. "Sounds like someone could use a little stress relief." A throaty chuckle vibrated from her before she slid her leg up and hitched it around his hip, "The one on my belt, this side." Now, there were at least three she could have been talking about, but he wasn't about to prod any further. Partially because it was pointless, she was a master at playing coy, and partially because it was an excuse to put his hands on her.

Batman shifted his grasp on her, grabbing both her wrists in one of his large hands and pinning them above her head. She made a small noise of delight that he chose to ignore altogether. His free hand now migrated down and brushed over the belt that hung on her hip. His fingers might have—coincidentally, of course- brushed her thigh or her hipbone, but what had to be done just had to be done. Trailing from one pocket to the next, he finally found the necklace and gem, tucked in the one furthest on that side, and he quickly plucked them from her and tucked them away in his own belt.

"I think you enjoyed that." She mused, a breathy quality in her voice. He snarled at her to which her smile only got bigger. "You think highly of yourself." His husky voice rumbled. "Mmm, partially. I mean, what's not to love?" The giggle that followed was almost melodic, "But I think the other part is that you like me. Do you like me, Batman?" Her question sounded so childish, so sweet, so silly, yet he still felt flustered. "I'd like to see you behind bars." He managed.

She leaned her head up some, invading even more of his space than before. Only now he had no reason to allow it. "So is that what happens now? Are you gonna cuff me?" The last two words came out on a whisper and she brushed her full lips against his jaw. His insides shuddered. "Gonna take me in?" She moved a little higher and ghosted her lips over his. He forced himself not to swallow. She couldn't see any more weakness than she already had. And he couldn't let the heat flaring through his body get any worse. "Or do you have something else in mind?" She then leaned in for the kill, and she halfway succeeded in getting a kiss out of The Bat, her lips brushing against his for a half a moment before he released her completely and stepped back.

In the time it took for her to catch herself, bracing back against the wall and blinking away her daze, he was gone. She pouted and huffed before the sound of sirens caught her attention and she bolted down one of the other alleys and escaped.

He watched her. From the shadows nearby, Batman watched her take off and vanish. He'd let her go. He'd caved and he'd let her go. Bruce grappled to the top of a building and took a few moments to gain some composure. He had busted female criminals before. He'd busted attractive (albeit crazy) female criminals before. Take Poison Ivy for example, she was beautiful and she flaunted what she's got on a regular basis. But none had the effect this one did. None of them frazzled his mind and body the way this woman did, and she was without pheromone control. The outright magnetism he felt to her in those few minutes was more than he'd felt with just about any of the women he'd dated, much less apprehended. Running his hand over the exposed portion of his face, he took a few breaths.

"For the record," He quickly spun around, "You can call me Catwoman." She bit her lip lightly as she gave him another once over with her eyes and winked before leaping off to the next roof. His eyes narrowed and his heart made its way back down from where it had nearly jumped out of his throat. Bruce had no intention of chasing her down, not in the state he was in. He cursed himself for it, but he knew it was time to return the stolen goods and head back home. He would get her next time.