Sapphire was good at what she did.
Never mind the fact that what she did was lie and thieve, but in a city like Gotham, a city of liars and thieves and killers, she figured it didn't make much of a difference anyway. At first, in her opinion, she did what was strictly needed to get by. Things got especially bad after the house fire that killed her parents. She'd been six when it happened, and all she could remember was the feeling of a white hot burn singing her, chasing after her, a red hot killer, and her father screaming at her to get out of the house, to get as far away as possible, and find one of the neighbors.
Saf made it out of the house, of course. Her parents weren't so lucky.
Saf ran away from the orphanage a total of forty times in her first eight weeks living there. She tried everything to get away. At six, she was scrawny, and she'd hacked all her dark hair off with a rusty switchblade she'd found in an alleyway, but the police always found her, always brought her back. She'd beg and scream and cry on the drive to the desolate gray building, but they'd haul her out of the patrol car, and hand her right back to the matron.
"Sapphire!" The plump, stringy- haired woman would shriek to the heavens. "What do you think you were doing?!"
"Leaving, Ma'am," Saf would whimper in return, shuffling her feet and fixing her dark eyes on the peeling wallpaper to either side of her, and the matron would scowl and yell, and then she'd hit Saf, refuse to let her have dinner as punishment, and send her back off to the girls' wing. Saf would go willingly, she didn't want to be with the other children, the little bullies they'd become, and she didn't mind missing dinner. It was always gross anyway.
The orphanage was more of a prison than anything else. There were bars over the windows, and the beds were old, with iron headboards, saggy, worn mattresses that hurt her back, and threadbare blankets. All the kids wore the same dull gray clothes, ate the same tasteless gray meals, and lived the same boring, gray lives. Sapphire was tired of it within the first four days. Every night, after curfew, she'd climb up onto the window sill, and watch the stars, ignoring the hushed whispers of the other kids. She wanted to leave so desperately, and every time she managed to slip out, she was gone a little longer, got a little further away, and she was sure that with a few more attempts, she could actually make it.
She just had to get out first.
On the day of her seventh birthday, Saf stole a red scarf from the Matron's closet, and a good pair of shoes from one of the 'good kids', and snuck out the broken area of the attic roof during lunch. The shingles were slippery, and it was raining, but Saf pulled the scarf around her head, and leaped onto the fire escape of the neighboring building. For once, she was thankful for the narrow space between buildings in cities like these. She quickly scaled the fire escape to the roof, icy rain pelting her body and wind stinging her eyes, but she climbed anyway, feeling herself swell with pride when she reached the top. She'd always escaped through the kitchen door and gone south. Now, she was going west. This would throw Matron off for a while.
Saf steeled herself, taking a deep intake of breath before she leapt across to the next building. She slipped, falling onto her stomach and evidently bruising her front and scrapping up her palms and knees, but she made it, and she was safe. She kept up the roof jumping until the alley next to the end of the block, where she stopped and climbed down the fire escape, brushing her bloody hands against the red scarf before burying her hands in the pockets of her drab gray pants, head bowed, slipping easily through the lunchtime throng of people, going pretty much unnoticed as she switched directions at random, tagging along with one woman or another, to make it look like she was there with a purpose.
She must've walked for nearly an hour before a patrol car passed, and she ducked into the shadow of an alley. The rain had eased up, but the wind only got worse, and she was soaked through to the bone. When the rain finally let up for good, she found a dry spot in an alley under an overhang, and curled up in a little ball, desperate for sleep.
"You out here alone, kid?" Saf glanced up at the voice. He didn't look like police, just a curious young man, most likely, but Saf's eyes widened and got that wide, teary quality to them and he sighed. "A Gotham street ain't exactly a good place to cozy up for some sleep. That's how ya get yourself killed." Saf sniffled and nodded, to show she understood. "You got a family to go to?" She was hesitant before shaking her head at him. The man sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated gesture, judging by his posture.
"I'm not going back to the orphanage," Saf informed him, her voice shaking. "I refuse."
"I get why," he muttered, sizing her up. "Why don't ya come with me? I could show you the tools of the trade kid, I'm sure you'd be good."
"What's the 'trade'?" Sapphire asked, taking his outstretched hand.
"I'm gonna teach you ta steal," he replied casually. "Make a good little thief outta ya."
Saf cocked her head, confused, because her dad had always said thieves were bad, but nonetheless, she followed the man willingly away from the alley, back to his home, the center of his little operation.
"Stop right there!" Saf, almost nine years old, sprinted full tilt down the street, her shoes slapping the wet pavement as she ran from the police. She ducked into an alley as soon as she could, finding it ironic that the one time she wasn't stealing anything, the cops had to decide that a little girl hanging around outside a bank was suspicious. She grunted, annoyed, and turned the corner sharply, winding up on another street, jammed with unmoving traffic. Shooting a glance behind her and seeing the cops, still being stubborn and persistent, chasing her all over the city, she ran out onto the street, sliding over the hood of a bright yellow taxi, ducking and weaving through bumpers and fenders before bursting out on the other side. She didn't pause, instead choosing to continue her zigzag path in hopes to elude her pursuers.
She was actually quite surprised they'd managed to follow her thus far. They both had potbellies, from too many donuts and coffee, Saf guessed, and they were obviously too clumsy to be good officers, tripping over themselves and each other and innocent bystanders. Sapphire was almost tempted to laugh as she ran, but she needed the energy, and wasn't going to risk being caught, especially by officers like these.
She almost had them beat when she ran into the woman. They were both knocked flat, and Saf apologized breathlessly while she turned, to find that the police had caught up. She flinched out of fear of returning to the orphanage, when the woman she'd knocked over suddenly wrapped her arms around Saf tightly, hugging her tearfully in an almost over exaggerated way.
"Oh, sweetie, I was so scared when you got lost! Thank you, kind officers, for returning my daughter to me," she seemed so sincere even Saf nearly believed her for a second, the woman's wide green eyes portraying what seemed to be real emotion. "How can I ever repay you?"
One officer - the older one, with coffee breath and the bigger belly - coughed awkwardly. "Just doing our duty, Ma'am," he told her, looking down. "We're glad your daughter was returned to you safely." He grabbed his comrade's arm and began to drag him back toward where they'd ditched the patrol car.
"Thanks," Saf said, stunned, as she looked up at the woman, who was now back on her feet. She was of average height, Saf noted, with short, dark hair and bright green eyes. She was dressed like a typical Gotham Socialite, and Saf briefly wondered why she was being given the time of day. "You really saved me there."
"What kind of woman would I be if I didn't keep kids safe from a place like that awful orphanage?" The woman shuddered. "The streets aren't much better though. Why were they even chasing you?"
"I was waiting in front of a bank," Saf replied.
"Waiting for what?"
"Somebody to pickpocket," the girl blurted, before her eyes widened and she clasped a hand over her mouth. To her surprise, the woman laughed.
"I think we might just get along." She informed Saf. "I'll bring you back to my place. What's your name?"
"Sapphire. But, I like to be called Saf."
"Pretty. Nice to meet you, Saf, my name's Selina Kyle."
A/N: And end Prologue. I've wanted to write DC for forever, so yeah. Young Justice. Tim/OC. Cat and Mouse relationship, Hero/Anti-hero, maybe I'll make her a hero at some point, but, yep. No update schedule. Will update this whenever I feel like it. Will follow season 2 timeline somewhat, and possibly after, I dunno.