Something wet and rough against her cheek pulled Selina out of an uneasy, painful sleep. Her head was throbbing. Her lips were cracked and dry. She felt drained. She didn't even know she fell asleep. How long had she been out?

A soft meow brought her fully back to consciousness, and her eyes fluttered open. The calico had been licking her cheek.

She sat up and groaned loudly in pain, rolling the garbage bag off of her. The calico backed up a few steps and sat on its haunches, licking at its paw.

"Ohh…" she moaned and struggled to sit up. Her legs were stiff and screaming with pain. Her back was cramped and her shoulder throbbed. Her elbow had been scraped and it hurt to move her arm. She put a hand to her forehead and blinked, trying to think back on what had happened.

She fought Batman.

"Shit…" she whispered out in pain and scooted forward, attempting to stand. Her vision nearly flipped upside-down and she put a hand out towards a brick wall, steadying herself. She was still dizzy. She reached a hand over to the back of her shoulder, winced in pain, and looked at her glove. The wound was still fresh; it hadn't yet fully clotted. How much blood had she lost?

"That asshole," she gritted her teeth. She had tried to help him, and for what? He put a gash in her shoulder. Sure, she punched him first…but that was because he pissed her off. She wasn't going to steal. She had no intention going into that warehouse and coming out any richer. She just wanted to watch him work. She nearly got shot for it. She put herself in harm's way to protect him. And in return, he treated her like a nuisance…again. He didn't thank her. He didn't even acknowledge the fact that she helped him. Instead, he shunned her and accused her of trying to steal.

Well, she wouldn't have stolen if he hadn't said anything to her. But if that's how he wanted it, fine. She'd steal.

The punch was an angry parting gift. Stealing the diamonds was a last-minute decision.

The diamonds.

She reached over down in the trash pile and pulled out the statue. Miraculously, she had managed to run like hell and hide away without breaking it. She looked around and was suddenly aware she was possibly carrying close to a quarter million dollars in a dark alley. It was time to go home. She blinked up at the sky. It was still relatively dark, but the air was damp and it had that certain smell only early mornings had. She had to hurry back. She must have passed out for at least an hour, and if she was caught with the sun up, things would get dangerous...fast.

Feeling every bruise and scrape on her body as she moved, Catwoman attempted to stand a second time and succeeded. The pain was unimaginable. It felt as if she was attacked by a meat tenderizer and had a hangover.

Fucking Batman.

The bitterness rose in her throat as she resented him more and more. What kind of self-righteous vigilante did he think he was? He attacked a woman and drew blood. She wouldn't forgive him for that. Her surge of triumph, however, blanketed the anger. She had gotten away with some diamonds. She at least beat him on that front.

I just made him right about me, she argued with herself. This time, he actually saw me committing a crime. There's no going back now.

She took a deep breath, shook the grogginess away, and started to jog towards the direction of her apartment. Who cares, she thought angrily. I'm a theif. I've always been a thief. Catch me if you can, Bats. It's on.

By the time she reached her condo, she thought her insides would erupt from the painful jog. She leaned against the brick wall and breathed hard, looking at the fire escape with dread. It took the rest of the energy she had to get to the utmost top, without grace or stealth. She had clamored up the steps and tripped several times, but the brick walls were heavily insulated and nobody was awake at this hour. Luckily, she didn't attract any attention. Upon reaching the top, she rolled over the lip of the building and landed on her side. Blinking, she numbly stumbled up and headed towards the elevator, which brought her to her floor.

...

At 3:56 a.m., Rosa's phone rang. She awoke with a start, blinked at the digital clock, and was immediately and fully awake. She knew it was Selina.

"Hola?" she whispered in Spanish, just in case.

"Rosa…" Selina's voice was faint, tired, and strained.

"Chica…? Are you okay?"

There was a long pause, but Rosa could hear her breathing. Something wasn't normal.

"Bella, talk to me," she pressed in a stern, worried voice. "What's the matter?"

"Rosa…I'm hurt."

...

"Chica, I don't know why you go so far," Rosa said in a stern voice over Selina's bare back. Three deep puncture wounds were still bleeding and raw, peppered across Selina's shoulder blade, each connected by a thin slice as Batman had scraped his arm alongside her skin before he pulled away. They had argued about going to the hospital, but Selina was adamant about staying away from any sort of professional treatment. She couldn't reveal where she got such a unique wound in the middle of the night without raising some sort of suspicion, so Rosa finally conceded and agreed to stitch up the gashes herself. Selina was hunched over the kitchen counter on a stool, while Rosa had a table ready with cotton balls, towels, a sewing kit, hydrogen peroxide, and a lamp with the shade turned up to drive the light across her back.

"If Batman did this to you, then you should stop going out at night," Rosa continued, driving a needle through Selina's skin. Selina sucked in a hiss and bit her lip.

"It was sort of my fault," Selina mumbled. Wait. Why am I defending him? "But still. That goddamn prick. I tried to help him." She sucked in another breath and breathed out as the thread tugged through her flesh. "Ugh, that bastard!"

"Language, bonita," Rosa warned her. "I don't like those crude words. And what do you mean it was your fault?"

Selina sighed. It was 4:30 a.m. She wasn't in the mood to explain. However, once again, she had pulled Rosa out of her home in the middle of the night to help her with another Catwoman crisis. Her children had to be awake and at school within hours.

"Someone was going to shoot him. His back was turned. I stopped the shooter."

Rosa stopped sewing and looked over at Selina. "Dios mio, chica. Where were you?"

"It's a long story, Rosa."

"Okay, okay." The sharp pain of the needle came back. Selina clenched her teeth. "Why did he hurt you, then?"

Selina glanced at the pale statue. She lowered her gaze as she thought about how she had stepped into him…under his arm. Like an armadillo or a turtle may have their soft spots, she knew Batman had his. The sides of his suit were thinner and didn't have as much armor so he could move around flexibly. She looked at her leather cat suit, which was lying in a heap on the floor. One set of claws had dried blood on them.

"I hurt him first," she replied softly.

"You what?"

"I got mad," Selina admitted. "I didn't mean to…but…I was just trying to defend myself."

Rosa sighed. "Chica, this is one man you do not want after you."

"He's after me now."

Rosa clipped the thread with a pair of scissors and closed off the first stitching job. Selina clenched her teeth and groaned in pain.

"Still," Rosa said in a low voice, "el demonio. Helping la policia or no…I didn't know he would do something like this. He could have really hurt you."

Selina remained silent. She had a feeling that it had only happened in abrupt retaliation to get her razor-sharp claws away from his ribcage, but she didn't mention it. At first, she had been incredibly angry at him…but the guilt was slowly seeping back into her consciousness.

"You still didn't say what you were doing, bella," Rosa dipped the needle in hydrogen peroxide and started to stitch up the second cut. Selina winced. "Gunshots and Batman…and you come away with that thing?" She motioned towards the white statue. It wasn't even a foot tall. "So I may be an older mother of cinco bebés, chica, but I don't think that white piece of clay will get you much."

Rosa's agitation was beginning to show as Selina felt the thread tug harder. She bit her lip and remained quiet.

"I don't know who's crazier," Rosa continued in a bitter voice. "You or Batman."

"Rosa," Selina interrupted softly, "could you go fetch a trash bag?"

"Qué?"

"A trash bag."

Rosa hesitated. "Chica, you hit your head or something? You going to be sick?"

Selina rubbed her eyes. "Please. They're under the sink."

"I know where they are, chica, I'm housekeeper."

Rosa was grouchy and becoming snippy, but Selina kept quiet. Eventually Rosa would understand what the statue was all about. She didn't know if her reaction was going to get worse, however. The smugglers probably brought in blood diamonds…and Selina was hesitant about getting involved in a blood diamond ring. Something deep down told her that trouble was brewing. The diamond operation was obviously illegal, or Batman wouldn't have been there and the diamonds wouldn't have been smuggled in phony statues.

Rosa yanked out a trash bag from under the sink cabinet and held it out towards Selina.

"Put the statue in it," Selina instructed.

Rosa lifted her eyebrows in curiosity, but after a brief pause she obeyed.

"Smash it," Selina said.

"What?"

"Break the statue."

Rosa grumbled something with the words loco and ridiculoso in the sentence, but dropped the trash bag to the ground. The statue broke apart easily inside and Rosa picked the bag back up.

"Okay, es roto. Now what?"

Selina cocked her head towards the bag. "Look inside."

Rosa brought the bag up to the counter, set it down, and spread the opening wider. She plucked out a few large, white clay pieces, but suddenly gasped.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God."

"That's why I took it."

Rosa averted her eyes, closed them, and then looked back into the bag as if she were staring at a mirage. "Oh my…oh my…uno…dos…trés…quatro…Dios mio…cinco…"

Upon seeing the look on Rosa's face, Selina smiled. "There's over two hundred thousand dollars' worth of diamonds in there."

Rosa stared at her, wide-eyed. "What? How do you know that's what they're worth?"

"They have to be worth at least that much. The smugglers were obviously going through a lot of trouble to get them into Gotham."

Rosa gave Selina a sharp look. "Smugglers? Chica, what is wrong with you?"

Selina bit her lip and remained quiet.

After a long silence, Rosa waved a hand and shook her head. "Whatever. It's too early in the morning and I've got to stitch you up before los niños wake up. You can explain it to me later."

Selina breathed a sigh of relief as Rosa continued the stitching, cleaned up, and helped her into bed.

...

Selina had cancelled all her appointments with clients from her trading firm and also with volunteering hours at the Gotham SPCA, claiming she had become slightly ill and would sleep the day off. After several rounds of painkillers, however, comfort seemed impossible. She indeed had tried to sleep most of the day off, but her throbbing shoulder, scraped knees and elbows, bruised legs, and sore muscles made the task much harder. Rosa had come in to check on her after sending the children to school, and she would prepare meals and seltzers for Selina to make her feel more at ease. The diamonds were kept in a small safe, which also housed a semi-automatic 9mm pistol and a wad of cash for emergencies. It was late afternoon when Rosa came into the bedroom to pick up Selina's tray of food.

"How are you feeling, chica?"

Selina's bare back was to Rosa. She was lying on her good side and looking out of the balcony window of her bedroom, watching the silent, sunny glare of the glassy buildings across downtown. Rosa looked at Selina's wound. It was already starting to look less swollen, but it had oozed a bit. She gently sat down at the edge of the bed and ran a damp cloth over it, then applied some antibacterial ointment across the stitches. Selina stiffened but didn't utter a sound.

"Bonita…I'm sorry for being angry with you earlier…but you know how I worry about you."

"No, Rosa. It's okay. You shouldn't have to apologize. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"It's just…I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, chica. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Selina didn't reply.

Rosa looked at Selina's bare back. Ugly purple bruises had blossomed up sporadically across her creamy white skin.

"I can't imagine someone out there wanting to hurt you…especially this Batman…someone who's supposed to protect Gotham…"

Selina swallowed. The guilt slowly seeped back into her consciousness, yet she didn't have the heart to tell Rosa that she practically instigated the entire thing.

"I want to help you, chica. Whatever you need, understand?"

Selina blinked at the horizon. She realized what she had to do.

"Rosa."

"Sí?"

"The diamonds can't stay here. I need you to run down to the post office for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you the address of an anonymous buyer I know. You've got to ship the diamonds out of Gotham as soon as possible. Just put them in a small baggie, then wrap them with some paper and stick them in an envelope. It'll be okay."

"Are you sure, chica? Should I at least put them in a special package or buy insurance or something?"

"No. I want to make it as inconspicuous as possible."

"Qué?"

"I don't want to attract any attention. Make the letter as plain as can be. Nobody will find them."

"You're making me nervous, chica. What's wrong?"

Selina sighed. "I should never have stolen those diamonds."

...

Alfred yanked open the thick curtains of Bruce's bedroom to allow the late afternoon sunshine flow in. Bruce's growl of protest followed and he moved deeper within the covers.

"I wouldn't presume to ask what you were doing last night, Master Wayne, but it's been over eight hours and you've had enough rest."

"Do you have tomato juice?" Bruce's muffled voice asked under the bedspread.

"Yes, sir."

"Aspirin?"

"Three capsules, sir."

Satisfied with Alfred's lure, he poked his head out of the covers, squinted and screwed up his face from the sunlight, and reached out towards the glass that had been set on the nightstand.

"Has Lucius called?"

"No, sir. I've taken the liberty to let Wayne Tower know that you're indisposed and cancelled all of your appointments."

"Did I even have any important appointments?"

"No, sir."

Bruce nodded. "Well…I guess that's good to hear."

"You did have a trip to the hospital scheduled, but it's been rescheduled later in the month."

Bruce adjusted his pillows and sat up. "Damn. I forgot about that. Don't let me miss the next one."

"Of course, sir."

As Bruce threw the pills in his mouth and gulped down the tomato juice, Alfred eyed him curiously. Bruce set the glass down and glanced at him.

"I nearly got shot last night," he explained nonchalantly.

"Not to be sarcastic, sir, but you nearly get shot every night. Why was last night so different?"

"Because this time I really would've gotten shot. Someone stopped the shooter."

Alfred's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Indeed, sir?"

"You're not going to believe this. It was Catwoman."

"The same cat burglar we're trying to catch, sir?"

"The very one."

"I'm not sure I understand, sir. She was the shooter, or she stopped the shooter?"

"My back was turned and she stopped the guy from shooting at me." Bruce paused and bit the inside of his cheek. The very fact that he had his back turned to someone with a gun didn't seem to bother him as much as not realizing that Catwoman was there. He had underestimated her. Even worse, she protected him from potential harm. It was now even tougher to distinguish whether or not she was one of the good guys or the bad ones. Sure, her motive could have been the diamonds…but then why didn't she sit back and watch Batman get shot? It was the same when she had lifted a hand to scratch his face. She didn't go through with it, and he saw it in her eyes. She didn't want to hurt him. He felt slightly relieved and bothered at the same time. She was simply a cat burglar, so he didn't have to worry about murder or drugs or anything else on her rap sheet…but did he owe her? Could he still arrest her after she tried to help? Perhaps it was all calculated; maybe she had anticipated this. But she didn't even know the crooks at the dock were smuggling diamonds until she broke the statue. Her intent wasn't to steal at all. The reason she did was partially his fault. Bruce rubbed his head and sighed, not wanting to think about it anymore. Alfred watched his expression.

"Assuming that Catwoman hadn't been there, sir, would you still have been harmed?"

Bruce shrugged. Usually panicked shooters missed their mark. Shooting at a figure in the dark lessened the chances of a good hit even more. The odds were in Batman's favor, but his back was turned long enough to give the shooter some time to recollect himself and take aim. His armor was thick enough to soften the blow of a bullet, but he still could have been fatally wounded. Thanks to Catwoman, he hadn't been hit at all.

"In all honesty, Alfred, I don't know."

Alfred nodded and remained silent, picking up the empty glass.

"But I…" Bruce suddenly remembered striking her and cut himself short. "Shit."

"Beg pardon, Master Wayne?"

Not only was she following him around, but now she was pissed and probably wanted revenge. He threw off the comforter and lifted up his arm, displaying a red blotch covered up with a butterfly bandage near his ribcage under the armpit. The cut wasn't so deep that it needed stitches, but it was enough to remind him that Catwoman had found his weak spots and could indeed cut through the suit. She knew what she was doing. It was a tiny little memento.

"She's pissed at me," Bruce murmured.

"Not exactly something you should lament over for a long period of time, sir."

"It's not that…I just think I've made it worse. She's going to steal stuff in retaliation. She was an ally last night…but what if she's my enemy later on?" Bruce ran a hand through his hair. Even though he felt guilty about hurting her, he couldn't help but feel annoyed. This Catwoman was the last person he wanted to deal with right now. As if the issues of women in real life weren't enough…now he had to deal with it even as Batman. What luck.

Alfred couldn't understand why Bruce was pondering over a criminal for so long. If anything, he seemed worried about it. But why? Because she was a woman? If that was the case, things would spiral downhill…fast. On the other hand, she had possibly saved his life. To that extent, the mysterious burglar had a conscience; not something the rest of the criminals of Gotham possessed. Strangely enough, she might be just what the doctor ordered…she might be what Batman needs – something to lift his gloomy spirits. If she was the catburglar, it also meant that she only stole from the rich and greedy. Not so much a horrid crime compared to others. She displayed compassion towards Batman last night, and that exposed a tiny sliver of moral. There was really nothing to do but to wait and see who exactly this Catwoman person would become.

"Master Wayne, perhaps time will tell. I wouldn't jump to conclusions so soon. As for right now, however, I believe it's time for a shower."

Bruce nodded. "In the meantime, we also need to check the diamond brokers and high-class jewelry stores. Check the dealers and wholesalers. Somewhere out there in Gotham someone's close to a quarter-million dollars richer."

"Very good, sir."

"And bring up the research I pulled up last night from the cave. They're on a Russian crime syndicate that's recently shown up in Gotham. Gordon thinks that they might have something to do with the diamonds brought in last night, but we still don't know for sure."