I perched in the rafters, watching as the newly-escaped Nygma fiddled about with his plans.

He had been the one to contact her. He hadn't really specified why, but she wasn't dumb and could guess. He was planning something and needed something rare and hard-to-get.

I shifted my weight and dropped, landing near-silently on the chipped warehouse floor. "Hey, Nygma."

He flinched and whipped around, a learned response to surprises, courtesy of the Batman. He seemed to relax when he saw me, "Riddler, please."

He had a smoothness to his movements, a kind of grace that he only had when he assumed his Riddler identity. When he wasn't Riddler, when he was just Edward Nygma, there was this kind of a stuttering demeanor with a glint of knife-like cleverness underneath. But even still, he wasn't well. Eddie may be slightly nervous and low-energy when he was on his meds, but at least he was mentally stable. When he put on his bowler hat and suit and called himself the Riddler, there was this ever-burning obsession with him.

"Alright, Riddler." I walked up to his desk. "What do you need?"

"I need you to steal something."

"Yes, I gathered as much." I leaned against the side of the desk, a hand pressed against the surface. I glanced at the papers there. If there was any kind of organization there, it went unnoticed to anyone but Riddler.

"Hands off the plans, please."

I snatched my hand back off the desk, crossing my arms across my chest, shifting my weight so I wasn't leaning against the desk.

"Thank you." Riddler intoned, leaning back in his chair to look me in the eye, crossed arms mirroring my own.

"Well?"

"Well," he began in his Riddler voice, "What has a face and two hands but no body?"

"Please, no riddles, Eddie."

He looked at me.

"Riddler, I mean."

"Fine," He began, "I need this." He plucked a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to me.

I took it from him, holding it carefully to make sure I didn't poke a hole in it with my claws. "This?" I asked, skepticism tinging the outer edges of my voice.

It seemed a bit like a random item. But, then again, it always did with Riddler. He wanted a watch taken from a security deposit box. Sentimental, I decided, if you're going to rob a bank, why not steal money? Unless he needed it for some other reason. A clue, probably, knowing Riddler. I decided the reason why wasn't very important to me. I thought about the job. All in all, it was going to be easy, not that I was going to tell him that. When making deals, always play up the difficulty; it helps keep pay high. "Okay, Let's talk payment."

"Of course." He intoned. "10k."

"30k," I argued. "20% upfront."

"20k." He agreed, "10% upfront."

"Make that 15% and call that a deal."

"Fine." He acquiesced.

"Good." I examined my claws and outstretched my hand, waiting for him to hand me a thick stack of hundreds. I rifled through them, making sure it seemed legit. Not that I didn't trust Riddler to pay me, he definitely knew better, but it was a good habit to have. "I'll have your watch next week."

"Of course." He continued, "Drop off at 2 A.M. here."

And that was the end of that. I nodded, and left through where I came.

It was ten till two and I perched on the rafters again, waiting and watching Riddler as he waited. I liked being just a bit early, which helped to avoid traps. I dropped at 2:08, knees bending to absorb my impact.

"About time, Selina."

"Don't get your crook in a twist, Riddler." I snapped, "And don't call me that when you're in costume."

"Fine, Cat." He seemed affronted, crossing his arms. "Do you have it or not?"

My lips pulled into a fangish smile, "Of course." I swung out a satchel that contained the security box. "Did you think I wouldn't have it?"

"I thought you wouldn't give it to me."

"You paid me, Riddler." I raised my hand to my chest, "I'm a girl of my word."

"Mmhmm," Riddler intoned and I chuckled.

"And your part of the deal?"

"I'm a man of my word as well, Cat." He offered a suitcase. "17,000 in cash."

"Purrfect," I rumbled, hand on my hip, testing the weight of the suitcase in my hand.

"How cliche, Cat."

I had already disappeared into the night.