Author's Note: Chapter 10 is finally up. I'll be pretty busy in April and early May, so the next chapter will hopefully be posted late May/early June. Enjoy :)

Stiles was officially panicking. It was a quarter after midnight and Cat was a no show. He slid down the brick wall, a hand clutching his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take deep, slow breaths.

"You have to stay centered, Stiles." His dad's voice reminded him. "Inhale. Now count with me. One. Two."

Three. Four. Exhale. Stiles continued the breathing exercise until he could think clearly again.

"Where are you, Cat?" He asked the empty air.

"Up here, darling."

Stiles tilted his head upwards and caught sight of a woman perched on the ledge above him, wearing a black bodysuit, red goggles, and were those cat ears?

"Oh, I get it. Cat for cat burglar. That actually makes a lot of sense. Although, I think you're taking the term a little too literally and do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"

Cat jumped off the ledge and landed in a crouch in front of him. "Thievery doesn't usually happen during the daytime"-she offered him a hand-"and it's Catwoman. From here on out, we only use code names."

"What's mine then?"

"How about kitten?"

"Kitten? No way. What about Catman? No...that sounds dumb. I'm not even dressed up. Maybe-"

"Catboy?"

"Oh, come on!"

"It's not that bad and hurry up, we don't have all night."

Stiles snapped his fingers, a name suddenly coming to him. "Call me Wolf."

Cat rolled her eyes. She handed him a black domino mask. "Fine. Now get up and put this on."

"What's this?"

"A disguise. The red hoodie makes you stand out like a sore thumb. The mask will at least hide your face. Keeping your identity a secret is a must if you don't want to end up in Blackgate."

"Street kid, remember? It's the only thing I have."

"Just put it on."

"Alright," he pressed the mask against his face, "What's next?"

"You're going to love this part," she said, producing a gun with a hook on the end.

"Why-"

She grabbed his waist and shot it up into the air. Then, his feet left the ground and they were speeding upwards.

"-fuckkkkkk!"

Suddenly, they came to a halt. He looked down, instantly regretting it. A wave of nausea hit him, blurring his vision and making his stomach queasy.

"Easy, huh?"

"No." He said through clenched teeth. "Not at all."

"You'll get used to it." She hefted him over the roof's ledge and then herself.

As he dusted his jeans off, Cat circled an open skylight. "I've disabled most of the security. Cameras. Motion sensors. The inside is more tricky. Kane made sure of that."

"What about the night watchmen?"

"They'll wake up soon enough," she said. Cat turned to Stiles, grappling gun in hand. "We're going down this time."

"Not again," he whined. "Why couldn't we go through the front door?"

"It's safer. We're less likely to be seen."

"Fine. Let's just get it over with."

He let her wrap an arm around his waist and this time he kept his eyes closed, the feeling of weightlessness the only indication that they were falling. Cat put his feet on the ground and he opened his eyes, surprised to be still in one piece.

"Afraid of heights?"

"You could say that." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The museum was dark except for a few emergency lights, but he could tell that they were inside the Hall of Gemstones. Cat handed him a flashlight from her backpack, and he pointed it at the back of the room. There, was the Cat's Eye. He walked over to it, the green glow beckoning him forward. He outstretched his arms, ready to lift the glass, but was yanked back by his hood.

"Not so fast." Cat took his flashlight and shined it around the glass. "Tripwire."

She flashed the sharp nails on her glove, which looked more like claws, and used one to scratch a circle into the glass. She pushed it in, and carefully, she lifted the emerald out of the display case.

Cat had a triumphant grin on her face. Behind her, Stiles saw a white gas forming. "Is that supposed to happen?"

She turned around and cursed. "Should have known the actual thing was rigged."

"What does that mean?"

"The alarm's been set off. We need to leave before we can't see anything at all."

She took her grapple gun and shot it at the skylight, but it was knocked out of the air by a fast-moving projectile.

"Catwoman."

Stiles flashed the light in the direction of the voice. With the bat symbol on his chest, he was, unmistakably, the Batman. Unlike the ball, when he had only caught glimpses of him, here he stood in front of him in all his intimidating glory. "Oh, shit."

"Batman. What a wonderful surprise. Have you met my new protege, Wolf?"

He waved awkwardly at the Batman. "Hi."

"Leave the gem, Catwoman." He said, gruffly. "No one needs to get hurt."

"But where's the fun in that?" She tossed Stiles the emerald and unhooked a bullwhip from her belt.

Batman fell into a fighting stance. Then, Cat lunged at him, claws at the ready.

Stiles dove behind a display case, emerald held tightly against his chest. He peered around the case, catching the moment when Cat threw Batman against the wall.

The smoke was starting to fill up the room, making it difficult to see. He turned off his flashlight and crawled towards the exit.

His hands hit something hard. He patted whatever it was, trying to make out the shape. "These. These are shoes."

"Yeah, they are."

It didn't sound like Batman or Cat. Without thinking, he rammed into the person's legs, knocking them off their feet, and dashed out of the exhibit.

He was running when he felt a sharp pain in his lower leg. He hissed and fell to the ground, the emerald flying out of his hands.

"Robin 1. Dumb robber 0."

Stiles scrambled to his feet and turned around to face the newcomer. Under the hallway lighting, he could clearly see that it was another kid, who couldn't have been much older than him, in a red and green costume and a green domino mask on his face. A yellow 'r' was emblazoned on the top left of his chest.

"Does everyone dress up like it's Halloween?"

"Says the robber hiding behind a mask."

"Touche. So, Robin. It's Robin, right? What are the chances that you're just going to let me walk out of here."

"Not likely."

"Can't say I didn't try."

Stiles looked between Robin and the emerald.

He didn't get this far to leave with nothing, and he absolutely couldn't get arrested. He'd have to fight his way out.

Stiles made the first move, swinging a fist at Robin. He caught it mid swing and secured a handcuff around his wrist with an audible click.

"Dammit."

"Not much of a fighter, are you?"

Stiles stomped on his foot, and Robin let out a yelp, releasing his hand. "No, but I still have a few tricks."

He sidestepped Robin's next punch, ducked under his other, but was too slow for the last which was coming straight for his face.

His hands shot up instinctively to protect himself from the blow. But it never came. Instead, he heard a loud crash.

Stiles lowered his hands and saw Robin lying on the ground a few feet away from him, unmoving. "Robin?"

"Robin," he tried again but closer.

"Ughhh."

He kneeled by his side and shook his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay? What happened?"

Robin's eyes flew open, and he grabbed his wrist in a death grip. "You did," he said hoarsely.

"What?"

Robin shoved his hand into his line of vision. Any rebuke died on his lips. Wisps of blue light were coming off it. He looked at his other hand; the same thing. "I don't-, that couldn't have been-"

Robin let go of his wrist. He sat up, albeit slowly. "It was. I saw it."

"That's impossible! I'm just me. Regular old Stiles-" He clapped a hand over his mouth.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing."

"You said."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

Then, without warning, he ripped the domino mask off of Stiles' face. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, I think it's pretty obvious."

"No, that's not what I-forget it. You need to get out of here." Robin was on his feet. He pulled Stiles up roughly. "Now!"

"Hold on. A minute ago you were trying to arrest me and now you're telling me to go. Which is it?"

"I can't explain." He handed his mask back. "You're going to need to trust me on this."

"Trust you!"

"Take the back exit." Robin pushed him backwards. "Just go!"

Stiles hesitated to run, but the seriousness in Robin's voice convinced him that he probably should. He snatched the emerald on his way out, never looking back or stopping for anything.

Finally outside, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I thought you took off."

"Cat!" He yelled in surprise. "What happened to Batman?"

"He's a little tied up at the moment. Do you have the emerald?"

He opened his fist. The Cat's Eye was resting on top of his palm. "Right here."

They drove back to the Batcave in a tense silence. On their return, Bruce made a beeline for the computer and Tim went to put away his gear. As he unhooked his belt, his fingers brushed over his shuriken and he was hit with instant guilt. Had he known it was Stiles, he wouldn't have thrown it. But that just brought up another question. Why was he there? It couldn't have been just for the emerald. Stiles didn't seem the type.

And what was that blue energy?

"Tim can you come here a minute?"

"Sure." He hung up the belt on the rack and walked over to where Bruce was furiously typing away.

"What can you tell me about Wolf?"

"Wolf?"

Bruce turned around in his chair to face Tim. "Catwoman's apprentice. You fought with him outside of the exhibit."

"Um," Tim averted his eyes, "Not much. He's young. Not an experienced fighter."

"Yet he managed to escape with the emerald."

"I was"-he tried to think of the right word- "distracted. I'm sorry."

The revelation, the blast, it had all caught him off guard.

"Don't apologize. As long as you're okay. Can I ask what had you so distracted?"

Tim wanted to tell him the truth, but he wasn't sure of how Bruce would react. If he would be understanding or unforgiving. Stiles had crossed a line, but there was still time to bring him back. He wasn't lost to them yet.

"I saw Stiles at the museum. Yesterday, I mean. On my school field trip."

"How was he?"

"He...he needs help Bruce."

"I know."

"Maybe I can help with the Stilinski investig-"

"No!" Bruce put a hand up to stop any objections. "I shouldn't have yelled. I know you want to help solve this case for Stiles, but there's too many unknowns. I don't want to put you at risk."

"I can handle myself, Bruce. That's why you made me your partner."

"Just drop it Tim. I'm not going to change my mind."

"Fine. But I'm not happy about it."

He stalked out of the Batcave in anger. When he reached his room, he sat on the bed with his new cell phone, thumb hovering over his old phone number. Then, he turned it off. Stiles would call when he was ready.

GCPD Records Room

Dick tossed another stack of reports into a box on the floor. Things just weren't adding up. Dougherty's reports were littered with inconsistencies. Well, the ones he did find. The others were either incomplete or plain gone.

Dougherty was dirty, that was for sure. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something larger at play.

"Are you done, honey? It's almost one o'clock."

"I think so." He gave the records clerk a smile. "Sorry for keeping you so late, Helen. I really appreciate it. I needed to get through a lot."

"Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. Oh and by the way, do you happen to have a report for Officer Dougherty on"-he flipped through the papers on his desk-"the 9th of September or-"

Helen stiffened and began rubbing her arms anxiously. "Why would you want those?"

"I'm just checking some things."

"There's probably nothing interesting in them anyways."

"I would really like to have them." Dick pressed on. He could tell she knew more than she was letting on.

"It could take a while. Maybe come back tomorrow-"

"Look, Helen." He stood from his chair. "I'm starting to suspect that those reports aren't there. I think the commissioner would find that very interesting."

"Please! You can't let him know. I love this job. I had to do it. They threatened my daughter!"

Dick put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Who threatened your daughter?"

"I can't say!" Helen was frantic.

"Helen, these people aren't going to just leave you alone. I won't let anything happen to either of you, but you need to tell me who."

Dick helped her sit in the chair. "I don't know their names. A couple officers used to come in here asking for Officer Dougherty's reports. They told me to keep my mouth shut or else they would hurt Katie. So I never asked any questions."

"Could you point them out if I showed you pictures?"

"I-yes. But I won't testify or anything. I have a family."

"That's okay. I didn't expect you to. Would you mind if I took some of these home?"

"No, no. That's fine."

He picked up the stack he hadn't finished reading and grabbed his keys off the desk.

He found O'Hara on the main floor, sitting on her desk. She had a cigarette hanging between her lips. "Where you headed rich boy?"

Dick grimaced. "Don't call me that."

"That's what you are, aren't you? I did some digging. Eldest adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Worked at Bludhaven until he decided his time was better spent in his hometown." She caught sight of the reports in his hands. "What do you have there?"

"To answer both of your questions quickly. I'm going home, and second, it's none of your business." He put them in his backpack. "And I thought you left hours ago? Are you spying on me?"

"Spying, ha. I'm working overtime. Some of us need the cash Grayson."

"Do you need something or are you going to keep harassing me?"

"You suck. You know that?" She stretched her arms above her head. "I wish I had a rich father. I wouldn't be working here, that's for sure."

Dick rolled his eyes. "I like this job, happy?"

"Peachy."

"And you should probably put that out."

"Will do, Officer."

He shut down his computer for the night and made his way down to the parking garage. He got on his motorcycle and drove back to Wayne Manor.

Tim was sitting on the front steps when he arrived. He removed his helmet. "What are you doing up?"

"I need to talk to you. Straight answers. No lies."

"I'm all ears." He took a seat next to him.

"Why is Bruce keeping me in the dark about the Stilinski case?"

So that's what this was about. He put an arm around Tim's shoulder. "Everything Bruce does is to protect you. Ever since Jason's death he hasn't really been the same, so don't give him a hard time, okay."

"It's not fair."

"It's not, but he has his reasons." He leaned back. "I've been working an angle at the GCPD. Might have a lead. Nothing solid yet."

"That's why you transferred," Tim said, realization dawning on his face. "Why did he bring you in and not me?"

"Trust me. If Bruce could do it himself, he wouldn't have asked me to."

"What did you find?"

"That a lot more people are involved than I thought. But don't worry your little head about it. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

The door opened behind them. "Master Dick, you're home."

"Alfred. Is everyone awake?"

"Just Master Tim and I. Can I offer you anything to eat?"

"I'm starving."

"I'm going to bed." Tim said, standing up.

"Tim," Dick tugged on his sleeve, "we'll talk more later, right?"

"Yeah."

Cat had taken them back to an apartment in the Upper East Side. He was sitting on the couch while she bandaged his leg, humming under her breath.

"Do you live here?" Stiles asked, trying to fill the empty space.

"I have a lot of places."

"It's homey."

He winced as she tightened the gauze around his wound.

"You talk a lot."

"My dad says so, too. But he finds it endearing."

"Where is your dad?" Cat asked.

He shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "He's...not around."

"Does he have anything to do with why you wanted to steal the emerald?"

"I thought we were in a no questions kind of partnership."

"Call me curious. You went toe-to-toe with Robin for it when most people would have ran. It seems desperate that's all."

Stiles didn't know why she was suddenly prying into his personal life, but his reasons were his own. And frankly, he wasn't willing to share. Though at the mention of the fight with Robin, he couldn't help but look at his hands, half expecting to see the blue light from before.

"Maybe it was. But you were there, too. What's that say about you?"

"Ouch, kitty's got claws. I do it for the thrill. This is a way of life for me."

"Fighting the Batman?"

"Especially that." She said with a smirk on her face. Finished with his leg, she stood up from the couch and walked over to the adjoining kitchen. "Are you hungry, Derek? There's got to be something in here."

"A little." He watched as she rummaged through the cupboards and when her back was turned, he reached into his pocket but found it distinctly empty. "Cat, where is-"

"Looking for this." She said, holding up the emerald for him to see. "It took you long enough to notice. I thought I'd hold onto it for safekeeping."

It seemed that Cat didn't trust him either. "When did you take it?" He asked.

"Back at the museum." She reached a hand above the fridge. "Here it is! I knew I had some cereal."

Stiles cursed his luck. Cat having the emerald complicated things. He hobbled over to the kitchen and sat on one of the bar stools at the counter. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Find someone to fence it. Don't worry, like I said before, I'll make sure you get your cut."

"I'm not worried." Stiles said despite feeling otherwise. Cat had all the bargaining power. If he didn't think of something quickly, he was going to end up with nothing. Slipping the handcuffs she had taken off him earlier under his sleeve, he got off the bar stool. "I think I'm gonna go Cat. I left my stuff in a locker at the rail station, and I don't want anyone taking it."

"Eat first." She said, taking out some bowls.

"No, it's okay. I-" He deliberately put pressure on his bad leg. "-crap!"

Stiles fell down, and Cat came around the counter to help him. "Careful, kid! You're still hurt." She put a hand on his shoulder but was surprised when he slapped a handcuff on her wrist and the other on the metal bar of the stool. Instead of being angry, she started to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't know what I expected. I was training you to be a thief and that's what I got. But there's a little snag in your plan." She waved her uncuffed wrist at him. "You can try to take it from me, but you know what, I'm going to let you have it."

Stiles stared at her, flabbergasted. "Why?"

Cat placed the emerald in his hand. "What? You think I didn't expect you to try something like this."

"You were testing me." He said, finally understanding.

"Why do you think I work alone? You can't be too trusting in this line of business."

"Did I pass, then?"

"Barely. You really should think your plans through."

"I like being spontaneous." He quipped.

"Spontaneous can get you killed."

Stiles pocketed the emerald. "So you're going to just let me take it."

"Uh huh."

"Just like that. No strings attached."

"Sounds about right."

"I don't get it. You work alone but you help me. I steal from you and you don't bat an eyelash. What gives?"

"I was you once. The streets were hard to navigate; I needed to move up. You obviously need the emerald more than I do, whatever reason you have. I'll find it again. It'll take a little more work, but the fun is in the chase. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

"Don't you need help getting-"

"I got it." She took a bobby pin from her hair. "Come back if you want to learn anything worthwhile."

"Thanks, Cat. You don't know how much this means to me."

"Well, it's only happening this once. So don't get used to it."

He left Cat to her lockpicking and yelled a quick goodbye as he walked out of the apartment and then down into the cool night. Exhausted, he headed straight for the park. He needed all his energy for his meeting with Sergei.

Stiles knocked on the club door anxiously, fiddling with the the emerald in his pocket.

"Can I help you?" Someone behind the door asked in Russian.

"I-" Stiles attempted to answer. "The Gotham trains run through the old city."

He heard someone whispering loudly behind the door, and then it swung open.

He stepped into the club. The lack of windows made it darker than outside. Purple neon lights lit up the room and booths lined either side.

The place was deserted. He spotted Sergei and Dimitri at the booth closest to the bar. Stiles approached their table and set the emerald down, interrupting their card game.

"I brought you something better."

Sergei looked up from his cards, "Do you play blackjack, Derek?"

"What about the emerald?"

"We'll get to that. Come, sit down." Sergei patted the seat next to him. "So do you play?"

"I've played once or twice."

"Then you know the risks of hitting too high. You shoot too high you might lose it all my friend." Sergei laughed to himself. "Looks like you lost this bet, Dimitri."

Dimitri cursed. He then glared at Stiles. "Fucker's going to get himself killed."

"What did he say?" Stiles asked Sergei.

Sergei waved his hand dismissively. "Don't listen to him. He is very negative." He picked up the emerald. "Looks good." He said, handing it to Dimitri. "Where did you get it?"

"The museum. It's the Cat's Eye."

Sergei whistled, impressed. "That was you. I heard the Batman was there."

"He was." Except if it weren't for Cat, he wouldn't have made it out of there.

"No one escapes the Bat! What, did you get lucky?"

"As I said, I'm quick on my feet." The pain in his leg, however, reminded him of how slow he had actually been.

"Are you Kid Flash or something?" He chuckled. "Okay, take it upstairs. First door on the left."

"What's upstairs?" He asked.

"Just go, Derek." Sergei turned back to his cards. "The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Stiles slid out of the booth and walked up the steps, Cat's words echoing through his mind. They could just kill him and take it. There was nothing stopping them. He tightened his grip around the emerald and turned the knob, taking a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Hello?"

He poked his head inside; it was an office. An older man was sitting behind a desk in the corner. His blue checkered suit made him look more like a businessman than the head of the Russian mob.

"Ah, are you my wannabe gangster?" He held out his hand.

Stiles stepped forward and shook it. "My name is Derek Hale."

"Alexei. Sergei said you have something for me?"

Stiles placed the emerald in front of Alexei. "This is the Cat's Eye. Net worth of about three million."

"Really, huh." Alexei reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small magnifying glass. He held the emerald to the light and examined it.

Stiles held his breath, waiting for Alexei to come to a conclusion.

He leaned back in his chair. "I'm impressed. Tell me, Derek, why is it that you're so interested in joining us?"

"I wanted to put my skills to better use."

"And you think they're better used here."

"Yes...sir."

"What exactly are your skills?"

"I'm smart, a fast learner, and as you can see a formidable thief."

"A nice resume, but this does not prove anything to me. You bring me this emerald and you expect me to welcome you with open arms. Get lost, this is not a playground. I have serious work to do."

Alexei was showing him the door. After everything he'd been through-he wasn't just about to leave.

"Please," He begged. "I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. Have somewhere I belong. I'm not going to treat it like a joke."

Alexei sat there, considering. "Alright, Mr. Hale. I'm willing to test this out, but the only reason I am going to do that is because you helped Sergei and Dimitri. You want to be a part of my family; you'll earn your place. However, if I doubt you for one second, I won't hesitate to do what is necessary. Understand me."

"Yes, sir."

"Now leave."

He nearly ran out of the office but forced himself to walk. Sergei was standing outside. "You're not dead."

"Very much alive. Is he always so...intense?"

"Alexei? He threatened to cut off my balls the first time we met." He handed him a slip of paper. "This my number. Text me so I have yours. I'll only contact you through this."

"When will I hear from you?"

"Soon, brother."