I huffed in frustration as I dumped the last of my boxes in my new room. I ran my fingers through my shaggy black hair as my green eyes scanned the small bedroom. There really wasn't much to my stuff, anyways. I guess that's why Mom gave me this room. I opened up my box of books and started to place them on the small bookshelf. I hooked my alarm clock up on my small desk and set my school bag on the computer chair before moving to make my bed. Once that was done I hung my shirts up in the small closet and folded the extra jeans and placed them in the bottom draws of the closet before placing my spare boots in there with them.

There was also a small bathroom attached to my bedroom, which I was thankful for. I packed some towels into the cabinets and put my shampoo and body soap on the shelves in the shower and put my toothbrush, toothpaste, and comb on the sink.

I re-entered my bedroom and pulled out the last, and most important things, out of my leather messenger bag. My sketch book, my laptop, my retractable hover board, and my Ipod. I plugged my Ipod into my alarm clock so it could charge, and I could listen to music, and placed my laptop and hove board on my desk so I could continue working on updating my board. I left my sketch book on my bed and moved my bag to the floor so I could sit in the computer chair. I opened the computer and pulled up the blueprints for my board before pulling out my tools.

I was just about to start putting in the wireless camera when mom called me.

"Mitchell! it's time for dinner." My mother, Helena Wayne-Kyle, called up the stairs of our two story house.

"Coming, Mom!" I replied putting my stuff away and logging out of my laptop. I hurried downstairs following the smell of chicken and steamed vegetables. I swung into the kitchen dining room to find Mom placing two places at the table. "Hi, Mom." I said kissing her cheek.

"Hey, sweetie." She smiled up at me, I was a whole head taller than her, now that I was seventeen. "You remind me so much of my mother, Mitch." I smirked and winked at her.

"Grandma Selina was always the wittiest between her and Grandpa." I chuckled as I scooped some chicken and vegetables onto my plate. I sat down across from my Mom and began shoveling food into my mouth. What can I say? I'm a teenage boy. Mom gave me a look and I slowed down. We finished with dinner and I helped her clean the dishes before I headed off to bed.

"Night, Mitch." Mom said kissing my cheek swiftly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Mom." I smiled. I laid in my bed for half an hour to make sure Mom was asleep before I snuck out my window. I dropped to the ground and snuck to the rundown garden shed behind out house where I hid my equipment and suit.

Tonight would be the fist night in a week since I donned my alter ego, Alley Cat. I slipped into the black leather body suit, pulled up the cat-eared cowl, pulled on my wide-eyed goggles with heat-vision, x-ray vision (Which I'm still working on), and magnified vision. My utility belt was silver and held smoke pellets, foam pellets, and glass/wire cutters. I pulled on my gloves and squeezed my hands into fist and watched as my cat claws shot out of their sheaths, I pressed a button on the inside of my glove and watch as electricity ran through the enhanced metal blades.

I pulled out my bo staff and twirled it before pressing a button that broke the staff in two make my escrima sticks. I pressed another and the escrima sticks turned into my nunchucks, then I retracted my nunchucks and flicked my wrist causing my cat-tail whips to snap out. I returned it to my escrima stick and hooked them to my silver utility belt before pulling out my finished hover board that was painted black.

I smirked. Gotham, here comes Alley Cat. You're new Cat Burglar.

So, this is another new story...I've been struggling with some other stories, so I'm just playing around with new ideas. I saw a picture on the internet and this story came from it. I'm using it as my cover for this story. I hope you enjoy it. Tell me what you think.

And, no, this is not a Terry/OC story.