This is a weird AU thing I wrote. It's a kind of thief-AU thing, with Artemis working for the League of Shadows and KF & Robin working for the Justice League, which doesn't so much fight crime as thwart other crime organizations. No powers.

Characters aren't mine. Constructive criticism welcomed.

Song is "Something's Gotta Give" by OneRepublic.

OOOoooOOO

"And then you showed yourself, all the colors that you fear."

OOOoooOOO

The relic sits on a pedestal in the center of the alcove, lit only by the spotlights scattered around the room. She knows where each of the five cameras are, even the 'hidden' one. Each camera scanned in a seemingly random pattern, giving the illusion that they could turn on you at any moment—while in reality it was just complicated—and she's been sitting there for so long she has it memorized. Downstairs, three doors to the left of the stairwell, is a security room, where two IT's and three security guards sat monitoring the feed for these two floors. All five are currently unconscious, and will be, for the next twenty-four minutes. Maybe a little longer for the lightweight IT's, but the guards are a bigger concern, and they are who she measured the dosage for.

The camera currently trained on the relic has been there for seventeen seconds, meaning it'll stay there for another nine, but only eight before the other camera comes to overlap. She begins to slink her way across the room, keeping in the blind spots to avoid being seen. It isn't any real harm if she is; she's already left the Shadow's tag in the security room, and in her black uniform and mask there is no way they would be able to discern her identity anyway. She avoids being seen mostly for fun; it is a bit of a game to see if she can make through the room without being spotted. If she does, it also means she won't have to doctor the tapes later, a task she has no skill in but is still obligated to do. Life would be no fun if they could put a face to the mysterious League of Shadows.

She pulls a compact crossbow from the holster on her leg and fires a bolt in the hinge of a camera just before it is set to turn towards the relic, preventing its movement. A moment later, she hears the tell-tale whirring meaning the other camera has turned.

She has twenty-two seconds to disable the security system and get the relic.

In reality, this is the easy part. While the focal point of this room, the relic is far from the most valuable piece at the museum. When the heist had initially been assigned to her, she found that no matter how she thought about it, she couldn't fathom what the Shadows wanted it for. She then learned that you don't question orders.

She slides a thin vial from the many on her belt and dribbles it along three sides of the bullet-proof casing, the corrosive agent working its way through the glass instantly. While that dissolves, she attaches a metal disc to the side of the pedestal, which she knows will blink red twice before glowing a steady green, signaling any security is disabled. She doesn't notice, however, when the lights flicker once and stay red; her attention is more on the sudden whistling that picks up down the hall.

Instantly, she drops to the floor, unfolding her collapsible longbow and nocking an arrow all in the same movement. She crouches in the shadows, out of sight of both entrances to the alcove. She grows steadily tenser as the whistling grows steadily louder, and try as she might to relax herself, she's never had as much luck at it as her sister.

The whirring of a camera behind her startles her so much it almost causes her to fall over. She draws and fires an arrow on instinct before really thinking about it, the light-weight carbon arrow slicing through the metal arm holding it up, sending the camera crashing to the ground.

The sound is shocking through the quiet of the museum, and the silence that falls afterward is worse than the whistling. All movement has stopped; it seems as if even the air has frozen. She glances quickly around the room, and when she turns her gaze back to the entrance, her gray eyes meet bright green and it takes her a second too long to realize what she sees.

She swings her bow around, fully intent on slamming it into the side of his head when suddenly he's not there anymore. He's halfway across the room, leaning casually against the case containing a three-hundred year old piece of pottery. Dressed head-to-toe in black body armor, not entirely unlike hers, a mask covers the top half of his face, leaving just his eyes and mouth uncovered. What she assumes to be infrared goggles sit atop his head next to a shock of bright red hair, so distinctive she's amazed it isn't covered.

He looks over at the mess of shattered metal and glass that used to be a camera and says, "What'd that camera ever do to you?"

The question is so casual, as if the two of them aren't thieves that have broken into a museum at 2:43 in the morning that it takes her a beat to comprehend it. Instead of deigning such a stupid question an answer, she snaps "Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question," he says. He glances casually around the room, and his entire posture screams that he's not the least bit afraid. She feels the need to pounce at him, bring him to his knees and show him why he should be, but she can't figure out how to move. Finally, she begins to stand, mostly because the half-crouch position she's in is very uncomfortable, when his gaze locks back on hers and she's frozen again. "I'm called the Flash."

She can't help but snort, even though this is far from the time. "What?" he asks, and although his tone suggests it, his eyes say he's hardly offended. Chances are he's heard it before.

"And who calls you that?" she asks, because she can't resist the taunt, but he shakes his head.

"You first. You still haven't told me your name."

She isn't sure when this turned from a standoff to a social gathering, and she's not entirely comfortable with the switch. She wants to attack, to knock him out and grab the relic and get out of there—she's been in this museum far too long and it seems as if every second that passes is a second closer to when she's caught. This whole situation is entirely too casual, too open, and it makes her feel vulnerable so something needs to be done. Problem is, he's the fastest person she's ever seen and some part of her can't shake the thought he'd snatch anything she shot at him right out of the air.

So she answers him instead. "Huntress," she responds, and the panic in his eyes is enough to make everything worth it. When she joined the Shadows, she took her mom's mantle because the Huntress is already feared and there's power in a name. She'd intended to give it up when her mother got out of prison, but when she returned home in a wheelchair the title got formally passed to Artemis.

But the panic only lasts a second before it's replaced with amusement, and any satisfaction she felt before vanishes. "Oh, so something happened to her. We were wondering. There's been a distinct drop in assassinations bearing her MO. You obviously aren't up to her level yet."

She stiffens, her hand tightening on her bow, and she wonders again why she hasn't just shot this guy yet, because the fact that she refuses to take assassination jobs is a sore spot for both her and the Shadows. She doesn't want to take lives, and her firm stance on this almost got her kicked out. Truth be told, she's not quite sure why she wasn't.

But then her brain latches onto that one word because what if it's the 'we' she thinks it is. What if he's a part of that new organization that's been repeatedly frustrating the Shadows by thwarting their jobs as often as they can? From interrupting assassinations, to bugging intelligence grabs, even stealing targets before the operative can even arrive on scene. Her superiors have been trying for months now to track them, at least figure out how they're getting their info, but to no avail.

It would do wonders for her standings with the Shadows if she could get info, maybe even catch them…

That doesn't mean she's about to let that jibe about her abilities go, however.

"Yeah, well," she says, leaning against the well behind her, trying to mimic his casual attitude, "at least I'm not called the Flash."

He flushes red and looks ready to retort when an eerie cackle echoes through the quiet, sending shivers down Artemis's spine. She nocks an arrow and draws it back, keeping it at the ready as she searches for the source of the sound.

"What do you think that was?" she asks, and looks over at him, expecting to see him tense and ready to fight, as she is; instead, he seems even more at ease than before. He grins broadly, a smug look clearly saying he knows something she doesn't. It infuriates her.

"That, Huntress, is my cue." Another cackle, this time much closer, from the hall to the right of the entrance. 'Flash' begins meandering towards it, and Artemis has the urge to shoot him, if nothing else than to get rid of his arrogant expression. He winks at her. "I'll be seeing you."

And with that, every light in the museum flickers out.