There wasn't a lot of time to prepare. Wayne's gala was only a few days away, and Selina needed to memorize every inch of the floor plan. She had to know every way in and out of the mansion. She had to know where the press would be, and more importantly, where they wouldn't.

She had to find a dress. Sneaking in wasn't an option this time. Wayne's security was much tighter than Blake's had been, and Selina never did two jobs the same way. Even using a party as her in was dangerous. Especially since it was Wayne's party, and now he had a face to match her voice. For the hundredth time since the Penguin had invaded her apartment, Selina wondered if they were setting her up to fail. It sure as hell felt like it.

Most importantly, she needed an invitation. Without that, all of her planning went to waste. Thankfully, she had a guy.

"No."

"Manny, come on," Selina said, sticking her foot in the door before he could close it on her. The tall, dark-haired man at the door only scowled.

"Alleycat, I love you, but your kind of crazy isn't something I need in my life right now."

"My kind of crazy is exactly what you need in your life right now, especially when you owe my kind of crazy a favor." Selina said smoothly, ignoring the childhood nickname that she'd spent years trying to grow out of.

"Manny who's at the door – Selina!" Another man came to the door, throwing his arm around Manny's shoulders.

"Speaking of said favor," Selina said, grinning. "Hey Ollie. I need your help, both of yours."

"Come in, come in," Oliver said, ushering her inside. "God, Manny, where are your manners? What can we do for you, Sel?"

"The Wayne gala," Selina said once they'd shut the door behind her. "I need an invitation, both electronic and print. Can you do it?"

"You're insane," Manny said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was a hacker, one of the best Selina knew, and Oliver was something of a savant when it came to forgery.

"Very likely. Can you do it?"

"Of course we can," Oliver said. "Between the two of us, it's a wonder that we don't attend every major party in the city. Besides, we owe you. Right, Manuel?" Oliver said sweetly, giving his boyfriend a significant look. Manny looked murderous, and Selina knew that she'd won. She'd known Manny for years, and was the once who had introduced him to Oliver. He'd been so angry at first, insisting that he wasn't interested. Selina smiled at the memory. Manny's sexual preference was the worst kept secret in the Narrows, not that anyone cared. With a crime war going on and the poverty line rising every year, people had their own problems. It had taken a lot of digging her heels in and a little time, but Manny had fallen hard for Oliver. Two years later they were still together, and that's what they owed her. Selina had never pushed it and she had never planned to, but she was desperate.

"Fine," Manny grumbled finally. "I'll get you on the goddamn guest list."

"And no one will ever know that your invitation didn't come in the mail," Oliver said happily. "Come on, babe, let's get to work."

"You two are lifesavers, thank you," Selina said, kissing Oliver on the cheek. They didn't know how literal she was being, either of them. "Ollie, I have one more favor to ask. I need a dress."

"You are a stereotype," Manny said, rolling his eyes. "You ask the gay guy for fashion advice?"

"I have something perfect," Oliver said, cutting him off.

"I hate both of you," Manny said, throwing his hands up. "Dios mio."

"Ignore him, he's just cranky," Oliver promised. "Come on, I'll hook you up."

Everything was falling into place. The dress that Oliver gave her was perfect, classy enough to fit in at a blueblood party, and just short enough that she could flirt her way out of a corner. Manny and Oliver had delivered on all counts, so getting in wasn't going to be a problem. And most importantly, Selina had out which catering company was working the gala and stashed a duffel bag in one of their trucks. She was meant to be stealing Wayne's last connections to his parents, and they wouldn't be small enough to fit into her tasteful clutch.

She was ready. She was prepared for this job and she had a hundred and one contingency plans that covered every possible outcome. Including running into Bruce Wayne. The first time she was in all-black and a hoodie; at the orphanage, Selina had been wearing ratty jeans and an old jacket with fake fur trim and goggles that she never wore but somehow couldn't get rid of perched on her head. Now, as she looked in the mirror, inspecting the outfit one final time, it occurred to her that she didn't even recognize herself.

She'd actually showered, for one thing. Her dirty-blonde hair, usually a disheveled mess of curls, had been straightened and brushed until it hung to her shoulders in a shiny curtain. The dress fit perfectly, giving her curves she'd never had before, and she had stolen some shiny heels to match. Oliver had insisted on doing her makeup, and Selina's whole face was covered in powder that had magically evened out her already-fair skin and somehow made her pores disappear. Her eyelids were bronze and shimmering, turning her eyes even brighter green, and there was some kind of shiny goop on her lips. Even if Wayne did see her – and she would do her best to avoid him – there was no way he'd associate her with the skinny street rat from the orphanage. The only details out of place were her still-healing knuckles, but Selina doubted that anyone would notice.

"Name?" the burly man at the door grunted at her, giving her a passing, cursory glance. Selina flashed him a winning smile.

"Catalina Black," Selina said, trying not to choke on the irony. Black cat, really? Selina had to appreciate Manny's sense of revenge. The guard nodded her in and ushered Selina inside, ducking her head to shield her face from the blinding flashes of the paparazzi's cameras. Breaking into Wayne Mansion was all well and good, but getting caught on camera was unacceptable. Thankfully, none of the press were allowed inside, which made Selina's life considerably easier. She didn't need to be dodging cameras as well as baby bluebloods.

Selina let herself be swept along with the crowd through the main entryway, marveling with the other guests at the interior of the mansion. She'd seen many of the other manors on White Hill on TV, but never the Wayne's. The richest couple in Gotham had been private when they were alive, and when they'd died, Bruce Wayne had practically become a shut-in. But damn, did they know how to decorate. Selina descended a curving spiral staircase into the ballroom, which was all marble floors and crystal chandeliers. Selina had stolen some impressive sums of money and had ripped off more jewelry stores that she could remember, but she'd never seen this kind of wealth. The ballroom on its own could fit her tiny apartment a dozen times, and just one jewel from the chandelier could pay her rent for a year. Selina couldn't help but scowl when she saw that buffet that was laid out over ten tables. There were people dying – children starving – in the Narrows, and the bluebloods could afford all of this. Unbelievable.

"Hey there beautiful," a slimy voice said at her shoulder. Selina turned to see a boy in a perfectly-tailored suit walk up to her, smirking. "You know, someone as pretty as you should smile more," he said with what he obviously thought was a charming smile. "Lucky for you, I noticed you anyway."

"Lucky for me," Selina repeated blandly.

"Rodger Tate," he said, not getting the hint. Did they not teach sarcasm at Gotham Prep? "What's your name beautiful?" Selina stiffened, feeling his arm snake around her waist.

"Catalina," she said, ignoring every one of her instincts that shouted at her to force him away. Selina fixed a vapid smile to her face, allowing Rodger to lead her onto the dance floor. She needed to get to the East Wing of the mansion anyway, and marching across the ballroom floor would draw attention. So she let the baby blueblood hold her hand and grab her waist and guide her around the enormous room.

"Rodger!" Selina's smile died on her lips as Bruce Wayne walked up to them. Selina's heart jumped and she ducked her head, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Wayne," Rodger said, shaking his hand. "Thanks for the invite, man." They lapsed into remising about prep school and Selina took the opportunity to shake Rodger off and disappear back into the crowd. She wove between the gala's patrons, trying to regulate her breathing. That had been way too close. She couldn't really blame him considering that it was his party, but it was starting to feel like he was stalking her. It was time to get moving, anyway. Selina didn't have all night.

She danced her way to the other side of them room and slipped away down a side hallway. She didn't go straight to the East Wing, instead making her way to the kitchen, where her duffel and a change of clothes were waiting for her. As much as she liked her little black dress, it wasn't conducive to a major heist.

"You owe me Sel," one of the workers said, handing over the bag.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Selina said. She changed quickly, replacing the dress with black jeans and, t-shirt, and jacket, along with comfortable sneakers. She a blade in one of her sleeves – an unnecessary precaution she was sure, but they made her feel better. Finally, she pulled on a pair of gloves, slung the bag over her shoulder and picked her way through the dark, unoccupied halls. A few of the hallways were blocked off by locked grates, but she made short work of them. Selina had never come across a lock she couldn't pick.

After that, it was easy. There were a few more doors to break into, but the Penguin had given Selina a list of the things she needed to steal. He didn't say how he'd gotten it, or how he knew what artifacts were the deceased Waynes', and she didn't ask. It was easier that way. There wasn't much to get. It was almost a little sad, how little of the original Waynes there was left in the house. Absently, Selina wondered where it had all gone. Had Bruce thrown away his parents' things when they died? Or had they just not been the kind of people to keep personal items? That didn't seem likely. Bluebloods loved their toys, the lot of them, even philanthropists like Thomas and Martha Wayne. Even so, Selina went through each room on the just like a good little thief and picked up every last thread that connected the prince of Gotham to his parents. It was easy.

It was wrong. Selina shook her head, reaching into a glass case full of priceless items and plucking out the leather-bound book that was hidden within it. She didn't care about right and wrong, she cared about not dying. Like Oswald had said, Gerard wanted to kill her, and Selina had seen firsthand what he could do to people. They didn't even look like humans by the time he was done with them. She was living on a probationary basis, and if she could prove that she was useful, they wouldn't kill her. Right and wrong didn't matter. Right and wrong couldn't matter, not if she wanted to keep breathing.

"You look different." Selina froze in the last room, her hand inches away from the last item: An antique stethoscope. Thomas Wayne came from a long line of doctors, helping to build the family fortune before Thomas himself had gone into business and become one of the richest men to walk the earth. "I almost didn't recognize you before, when you were with Rodger."

"No offense buddy," Selina said cavalierly, turning to face him, "but you are a real pain in my ass."

"Likewise," Wayne said, sounding almost amused. He was smiling, while she was standing in his home with a bag full of his stolen stuff. "And you are nearly impossible to get ahold of."

"Sorry, I don't date bluebloods," Selina said. Wayne laughed again. He was laughing at her. She was starting to think that his parents' death had left him with more than a touch of PTSD. More like complete and total psychosis. "If you'll excuse me." She moved to push past him and Wayne threw out an arm, barring her way. "Move," she ordered.

"No. I have questions."

"I don't want to hurt you," Selina said, her voice low and dangerous. Wayne barked a short, derisive laugh.

"I doubt you could." Selina bristled at the challenge, slipping her knife out of her sleeve and holding it at the ready. She wanted to laugh out loud when Wayne reached for a fencing saber, an honest-to-God sword. She'd been expecting a gun, or for him to call security at the very least, but it seemed like Wayne wanted the fight.

Almost as much as Selina did. She circled around the office and Wayne matched her step for step, sweeping his saber in long, low arcs. Selina could see that it wasn't dull like normal practice swords, but would cut through her as easily as any knife. She waited, a small smile playing on her lips, until Wayne rushed forward, slashing at her. Selina could've cheered. Rule one of any fight: Never make the first move. It allowed your opponent to learn too much about your fighting style. Selina ducked away from the blade, blood thrumming in her veins. She was fast and smart, but that didn't help the fact that she'd brought a knife to a swordfight. His reach was far longer than hers and she couldn't get inside of his guard, no matter how quick she was.

Besides, Selina was improvising. She'd never even seen anyone use a sword before – there was a mercenary a few years back that had been known for running people through with katanas, but he'd been locked up. She danced around the office, avoiding every advance, trying to get close.

"So," Selina said conversationally, hopping lightly onto the desk to avoid getting skewered. "If you win – and you won't – what do you get out of it?"

"I told you – " Wayne said, slashing at her feet. Selina danced out of the way, stepping over the saber like it was a jump rope " – I have questions."

"God you're boring," Selina sighed, jumping over the sword again, but landing on it this time. It was more of an accident than anything, but Wayne was thrown off-balance, caught in a lunge. He yanked the blade out from under her and Selina leaped at him, seeing the opening. Wayne stumbled backwards, bringing the saber up faster than Selina anticipated. She froze, suddenly unable to move unless she wanted to get her throat slashed. Wayne blinked, looking as surprised as Selina felt.

"Do it," she whispered, feeling the blade prick her throat. "Kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you," Wayne said uncertainly.

"Then let me go," Selina tried.

"I can't do that either."

Selina smiled bitterly, feeling her heart sink in her chest. "I'm dead either way, billionaire." If he didn't let her go he'd call security, and then the mansion would be on high alert. People would hear about it. People like Gerard and the Penguin, and then she wouldn't last the week.

"Who are you?" Wayne demanded, lowering the saber just a fraction. "Who's trying to kill you?"

"You." Selina snapped. "You, you stupid, idiotic, pretentious rich boy, you are killing me."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You saw me! And because you saw me, because you are a witness, they are going to kill me." Selina took a long, shuddering breath. "If you call security, they are going to kill me."

"Who?" Wayne asked.

"They're going to kill me," Selina said, clenching her free hand and feeling nails digging into her skin. "They are going to kill me, and I want you to know that when they do, it is your fault." Wayne forwent the saber entirely and stepped towards her, eyes shining with something that looked like concern. He tried to say something but Selina struck, smashing the handle of her knife into the base of Wayne's skull. He crumpled and Selina barely caught him before he fell to the floor. "Sorry," she said, laying him down. "I'm not dying on your account." Selina grabbed the stethoscope and locked the door behind her. Someone would notice that Wayne was missing, but not for a while, not with so many people downstairs.

Selina retraced her steps back to the kitchen and snuck into the garage. There was a van waiting for her with the keys in the ignition, something she'd arranged beforehand. After clearing the Hill, Selina wiped all of her prints and abandoned the van. She caught a bus back to the Narrows, going over the heist again and again in her head. She'd been telling the truth. She had told Wayne the truth. He was killing her, and if she didn't do the job, Gerard would kill her.

Selina wanted to keep living. Which reminded her.

"Manny I need one more favor, and this one I'll pay for." Selina said without preamble.

"Jesús Cristo, Alleycat." Manny growled on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry, I really am. Please."

"Fine. What do you need?"

"Wayne's security feeds. I want them gone."

"Selina…"

"I know you can do it, Manny, so just do it." Selina hung up, not waiting to hear his response. It was an extra precaution, but Selina knew it was necessary. She'd spoken to him, to Wayne. She'd spoken to him as herself. And all he'd wanted was to know why she had stopped to help him. I'll let you know if I ever figure that out myself, billionaire, Selina thought bitterly. That was what had started this whole mess.

Well now, hopefully, she could finish it.

"Oh, Selina, you have done well by us," Gerard purred when she showed up at the bar, back to his polite, complimentary persona. "This is everything we asked for. I assume there were no problems?"

"Never are," Selina lied easily.

"I told you she would be useful," Oswald said, gloating and smug. "You may go, Selina."

"He's going to call the cops," Selina said, stupidly not doing what she was told. What else was new? "Wayne. Like you said, people get very attached to their stuff."

"Don't you worry about that, dear girl," Gerard said. "We have friends inside the force." So does he, Selina wanted to say, but she knew better than to push it. "Like Oswald said, you may go. We know where to find you." Selina inclined her head and left, feeling panic and dread swirling in her stomach. They knew where to find her. She wasn't done. They were going to keep her as their little pet reaper and there was nothing she could do about it.

She wanted to scream. She'd done what they'd asked, and some small, hopeful part of her had thought that they would set her free once the job was done. Selina wanted to kick herself for even entertaining the notion. Of course they wouldn't let her go; she was too dangerous, she knew too much. And now, the rest of her life would be doing jobs for them, always looking over her shoulder, until the day they decided that she was too dangerous to keep around. She was theirs now. Selina dug her nails into her palm, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She couldn't show weakness, not here. Her people could sense it from miles away.

But she couldn't stop them as soon as she rushed through the door of her no-longer safe apartment and locked the door behind her. Tears spilled over, wetting her cheeks and Selina couldn't help but think that it was all for nothing. She'd done the job in hopes of being free, she'd stolen every last connection Wayne had with her parents, for no reason. It was over.

She was trapped.

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