Some men were easy to read. In fact, a good majority were. At least, a good majority of the men Selena Kyle attracted.
Except Bruce Wayne… She thought musingly. Bruce was smarter than most men; he was also less of an ass. This behavior wasn't consistent with what Selena had learned to expect of trust fund babies like him. She had another run-in with him one morning, at Mammoth Apartments' floor-level café. It surprised her how long he could carry on an intelligent conversation. Apparently philanthropy was something he took part in personally, instead of letting his advisors handle all the decision making. Selena even concluded that she might be genuinely interested in this man, so she took all of the standard precautions.
Of course, that meant doing a bit of spying. If she'd learned one thing, you never know how a man acts when you aren't around. A simple audio bug placed on his front door allowed her to know when he was going to be out recreating. This gave her the perfect opportunity to see what he was like around other people, or so she soon found out, other women. She expected him to be just as impressive, but she was very wrong. In the company of simple floozies, he became little more than a floozy himself. Bruce pretended he didn't even know what his trust fund advisors were up to at the moment. He also couldn't seem to talk about anything but the next yacht party, and what swimsuits each girl would arrive in.
Instead of being angry, or even disappointed, Selena was now very interested in Bruce Wayne, if also a bit confused. After following him in the company of several other people, she gathered that this man changed his behavior depending on who he was with.
Why would he need to worry about that? Selena wondered, unless he has something to hide?
The way Bruce put on his act was eerily similar to her own. The way his eyes shifted when he thought no one was around, how his mood could switch from carefee to absently preoccupied with a glance at his sidekick screamed that he was a man with something to hide.
A cat rubbed her tawny ear against Selena's ankle.
"Come here, sweetie," she crooned, lifting the cat into her lap and gingerly kissing the top of its head. That was quite enough thought about Bruce Wayne for one night, Selena decided. .All of her preparations had come to this: The apex of another job. Selena was what the layman would call a catburglar, one particularly interested in precious gems.
When Selena was young, her parents died, leaving her with a small fortune and one particularly valuable sapphire. The money didn't last long, and soon she was forced to sell the gem. However she didn't use the money to pay rent or buy groceries, with it, she financed her very first robbery, a jewlelry store down her street. The rest, as they say, is history.
This time around, the most difficult part had been obtaining the blueprints to the Gotham Museum, which was hosting a certain emerald the size of her fist. She had claimed she needed the blueprints for a tour she was planning. For realism she added a bit of scorn, pointing out that she wouldn't need them if the museum had allowed her to host a few pieces in her penthouse and hold the tour there. Upon investigating the security system, she found that no new tools were needed, her scrambler and laser kit would cover the whole thing. Too easy. But what should she expect? There had to be some reason why major criminals (like herself) were so irresistibly attracted to Gotham. The city may have become too overconfident, what with the Batman roaming the streets.
She sighed, looking out at the nocturnal city from her vanity stool. There hadn't been a sighting of the Batman since the Joker's stunt with the ferries, not since the manhunt began. Luckily all the manpower was focused on finding a bat, not a cat.
Arkham Asylum, Cafeteria
"So," The Joker began, "What do you think about the plan?"
Crane said nothing as he sat down opposite his fellow conspirator. The Joker had his wrists restrained closely to the table, just enough slack was allowed for him to be able to get food from his tray to his face.
"Did you even get my note?"
"Yes, I got your note," Crane blurted, swallowing a spoonful of green bean jello, "I'm currently trying to get its taste out of my mouth."
"S'cuse me Doc?"
"…I had to pretend to eat it to keep the handlers from reading it." Such indignities. The Scarecrow was more than ready to be free from this hellhole.
"And? What do you think?"
Crane glanced at the monitors pointed at their corner of the long cafeteria table.
"I don't like it. Too much risk involved."
The Joker slammed a fist down as hard as he could on the tabletop, and leaned closely to Jonathan's side. "Risk. Is the only thing that will get us out of here," he spat. In an instant, he leaned back and continued happily munching on his peach cobbler. "Besides," he said with his mouth full, "It's not like you have to do anything especially difficult."
"Well shoot, Barney. Looks like the sick freak made a friend." One guard mentioned as he watched the two on the security monitor. Barney wasn't quite as amused.
"Keep an eye on them. Two fugitives like them suddenly take an interest in each other? That can't be good."
"Very true. But I help but think it's hilarious to watch Crane squirm whenever he's around the clown."
"Better him than us," Barney admitted.