Author's Note: Hey everybody, I hope you've been enjoying the story so far. As a heads up, there may not be a Friday update this week. It's nothing serious, it's only that my access to the internet will be questionable. If I can find a way to do update in a timely manner, I will do so, but if I am not, then expect the next chapter next Monday. Without further ado, enjoy.

Giddy Up Jingle Bells

Following someone was an artform. You had to believe one of two possibilities: the person you were following knew you were following or did not know you were following. The latter was easier to believe when you started, and that was when you became careless and gave away your pursuit. If you believed that they knew you were following, you were more careful but you kept enough of a distance that it was easier to lose them.

The middle ground was nearly nonexistent, but it was there. A tiny little sliver that took years if not decades to master and even then it was so easy to mess it up. Gordon knew he was no master, yet he had his experiences with following suspects and persons of interest. It was easier to place yourself along the known route and watch than to follow, communicating to your brothers in blue confirmation of what you saw, passing along the baton as it were.

There was none of that support now. He was on his own, practically pro bono but he had been asked to and so he would. Since there was only one of him, he allowed Chip Shreck to leave unmolested. It was Mugsy and his friend he trailed, reaching to his car so he could better keep on them. He wasn't as young as he used to be and the cold was starting to get to him.

With the engine purring and the heater taking its sweet time, he followed after the pair, pulling over periodically in case they were aware of their surroundings. The former commissioner kept his distance as much as possible, trusting in his car to close in quickly when needed and taking advantage of every traffic light, especially when they were red.

The two men seemed comfortable in their surroundings, no sign of them rushing or even hiding. Gordon knew that appearance; it was the same kind of appearance that old guard mobsters had. In particular, the made men. Of all the people in Gotham, back in the day, the made men were truly the safest and so felt comfortable enough to commit some of the most heinous crimes imaginable, sometimes completely at random or because they felt like it. What did they care? Only their boss could give the okay to have them murdered and so long as they kept bringing in money, nothing would be done.

Mugsy and his friend gave off that vibe. Who was it they were working for that emboldened them with that kind of confidence?

Down various streets they went, entering the poor neighborhoods. There was a turn onto Washington, Gordon continuing to keep his distance even when he made the turn. Through narrowed eyes, the former commissioner noticed the change in the two men's gait, even this far back. They were approaching their destination.

He kept his foot on the accelerator, keeping to the speed limit as he passed by them, heading further down the street. Through his rearview mirror, he watched as the pair took a turn, and then he was searching for the closest parking space. That took much longer than he wanted, and so getting out was rushed too much. Already, his quarry was out of sight and he needed to catch up on foot.

No running. That was a dead giveaway. You made too much noise, the very act drew attention, and not to mention there were the winter weather conditions. Ice had to be watched for, and slipping for him might put him out of action for a while.

Gordon reached the turn that Mugsy and his friend had taken, and at that point he slowed down so that he could peek around the corner. Further than he liked, he saw the two coated figures moving ahead. He glanced around at his surroundings, the one building of note was one that had three storefronts, all connected together, and all closed down with no signs of life in them.

Up ahead, Mugsy and his friend made another turn which took them behind the closed down building that was three non-existent businesses in one. Exhaling, he started after them, powerwalking and doing his best not to make too much noise. He drifted closer to the building that was a candidate for the destination. By the time he reached the back, he only bore witness to one of the backdoors closing shut.

That was lucky. A couple seconds later and he would have missed that. Regardless, what was he to do now? The obvious solution was to use the door he himself had watched closed, but if it was only those two in there, he would give away that he had followed them.

Such a situation was not one he wanted to walk into. If nothing else, it might give them all the motivation to kill him, and then what? Already he had a meeting between those men and Chip Shreck, and that was information that needed to be passed along. However, he was here and what might be a base of operations. Who knew what was going on inside? Who knew who else was in there?

So what to do? The front was an option, however the lack of any activity behind the windows of each storefront indicated that no one was in that part of the building. It also meant that if closed down, those doors were locked and breaking in might be noisy. Going in the back was too risky. Well, there were at least three doors back here, and he had only seen one open. He could try to check the other doors…why not? So long as the back of this building was not connected, it might be a way in…but if everything was divided, then he would be closed off to where Mugsy and company was.

What was another way to see without drawing attention or getting caught? Look left, look right, look around, and then look up. Nothing but night sky, black and dark. Hmm, what would a friend of his do?

Was there a way to the roof?

The Gotham Museum of Natural History was not one that Catwoman had intended to return to. However, her prize of the night was kept here. So long as she made sure it wasn't a replica, she would not be caught off guard by a booby trap again.

It seemed the way she had used last time was still available. Oh, wait, sensors on the rooftop window panes that was situated right above the replica of the Egyptian Sphinx monitored whether they were open or not. Not bad. Fortunately, she knew another way in.

That way hadn't been updated or secured. It would be a trade secret to reveal how she got in, so use your imaginations kiddies. Now, to go hunting.

So artifacts from across the world, some were naturally made and others by mankind. The ones by man were her target, but it wasn't any of the Egyptian ones she was interested in. No, this time, it was a different empire, a different culture, one almost as old, and no less impressive. At least, if any of it still remained. Islam tended to have a nasty habit of destroying ages old relics.

Persia had been around a long time. While her preference was for Egypt, every once in awhile, that ages old empire piqued her interest and she would more than want to add one of their artifacts to a personal collection. Alright, the personal collection was a huge lie; her ties with the Calabrese would make it a cinch to fence.

While the Persian Empire was a name that came up many times in the history books, museums never truly had an exhibit worthy of it. Very hard to come by. You would get pieces here and there, but you were more likely to find Mesopotamia than Persia. Still, this museum had managed to obtain a few pieces, and only one had her attention.

Catwoman knew that the museum had done more than to monitor the windows. All internal security had been revamped. So a bit of a challenge there…but not by much. Part of breaking and entering was the thrill: would she get caught? Chased after? Forced to fight? The uncertainty added an extra edge, raised the tension, and kept a mind that found so much boring sharp.

She knew her way around laser grids. No matter how random they tried to make it, a person was doing the programming so a pattern would inevitably emerge. Reaching the one display, a podium in the middle of the floor, surrounded by similar podiums, and each with their own prize encased in a transparent box. Just one in particular, one that held a nice item that was most importantly portable.

Perhaps you might scorn her, but a statuette of a cat in a laying down position, what the kids these days called a "catloaf," with the head turned to the right, and a polished bronze that still retained some of its age was her prize for the night. Eyeing it critically, she then tested the satchel she had brought with her, making calculations on whether it would fit in.

Ultimately deciding to go for broke, she flexed her fingers and extended the claws out of her gloves. Spreading her fingers out, she placed them against the transparent surface of the display box, the tips of the claws pressed in, and then rotated her wrist. Back and forth she turned until the shape of a circle began to form.

Careful here, some of these cases were rigged with motion sensors. Easy does it. Make sure this case doesn't tremble in the slightest. Ah, there. Now, pull back and…easy…there. In one hand, held by fingertips was a circular piece of Plexiglas, one that she lowered to the floor and placed down. Pausing, she critically eyed the hole and then the statuette within. The hole was too small. All of that effort…

Yes, all of this effort and it was still so…where was the rush? Wasn't this what this night was about? Reliving the glory days? Why didn't it feel that way?

So far, this was underwhelming. It made her frustrated in a way that she could not put her finger on. She had beaten everything that was supposed to keep her from getting to this point…so what was missing?

A hand balled into a fist as she frowned, then quickly shook her head. Stay in the game. Now was not the time to get distracted. Just grab the damn thing and…

Doing her best to dispel…whatever this was. Catwoman returned to work, making sure to cut a bigger hole for the prize inside. It took much longer to do, care needed to be taken to not set off any sensors, but the burglar was able to do it. Her hand reached inside to grasp the statuette and then remained there.

What were the odds there was a pressure sensor too? And here she was without a bag of sand. Picking it up ought to set off the alarm. Not much of a worry there since she already knew her way out. It was that easy.

Why should it be easy?

Removing her hand, free of the statuette, Catwoman abruptly spun and lashed out with a kick, striking another display and causing it to fall over with a crash. Instantly, the continuous ringing of the alarm started, the whole room lighting up in red.

Ah, that was better. Music to her ears.

Now she grasped the statuette and crammed it into the satchel bag she had brought with her. It wasn't a perfect fit, and the head was peeking out.

Time to go, but not so far. With the alarm going off, anyone who was anyone would be showing up. Who knows, maybe someone tall and black might surprise her with some endurance. After all, the thrill was in the chase, was it not?

The chase after her, that is.

The alert that one of this city's numerous museums was in the process of being burglarized interrupted Damian's thoughts. He had chosen to remain behind, still trying to decipher the meaning behind Colin Wilkes' words. Now, the Usurper's computer was alerting him to the break-in.

Despite his refusal to venture on patrol with the Usurper and the rest, he had deigned to suit up. Thus, he was ready to spring into action. Feeling that perhaps tackling this burglary might help him find an answer to his conundrum, Redbird set forth to capture the perpetrator.

The rooftop was where he arrived, and sure enough he found the person responsible for the break-in. He took in the sight of the woman in black leather, casually leaning against the building's rooftop access, and was able to conclude that this had to be the thief known as Catwoman. She was a criminal that as of yet had not been apprehended by Father. Maybe he could change that.

"You!" he declared, announcing himself and almost smirking when the woman turned her head enough to look in his direction. At her side, he noticed a satchel, the head of what appeared to be a statuette peeking out of it. Further confirmation. "There's nowhere to run! Surrender yourself!"

If the woman was raising an eyebrow, her mask hid it. It did nothing for her voice, however. "You. I go out of my way to make this night a little interesting and you're the one who shows up."

"You should be lucky." Lips parted to make a bloodthirsty grin. "I will not say it again. Surrender yourself! Put your stolen goods on the ground and put your hands where I can see them."

"Mmm. How about…no." The tone was dismissive as the cat burglar looked away. "Maybe if you put on several years, several inches, and maybe I might entertain you. Kids aren't my style."

His eyes narrowed. "I am no child."

"Your voice isn't even cracking yet. Go home, Junior. I have bigger fish to fry." Another dismissal. Fine, then he would give her a reason to pay attention.

Redbird had been practicing, and so he slipped out one of his father's famed batarangs from his belt. Countless hours and countless days of practice had him throwing the weapon where it struck the rooftop access, centimeters away from the thief's head.

The black-clad head did not flinch. A pair of eyes glanced up to the batarang—exactly where he had aimed it—then returned to him. "So. You're sure you want to play."

"Does it look like I'm playing?" The threat lingered in the air, much like the condensated air he breathed out of his nose and mouth.

The woman's lips curved. "Have it your way."

It took less than a heartbeat for Catwoman to spring into action. Redbird took up a stance, ready for her as she—what was she…?

With long strides, Catwoman ran to the edge of the building and without a second of hesitation she leapt off of it. Her form became smaller the further she flew and then she fell out of sight as her body dropped. Redbird stood there, staring, not quite understanding what had just happened.

She ran away from him.

She ran away from him?!

Anger fueled his next movements as he took off into a sprint, giving chase. Reaching the building's edge where he had last seen the thief, Redbird skidded to a stop and did a quick survey—there! On the rooftop across the street! It was much lower in height compared to the museum, but he could see that black form right there!

Out came the grapple and he fired it, waiting for the cable to become taut before he made his own leap, hitting the retraction button as he did so. Whereas the thief had done a mighty leap, his was a swing followed by a quick climb to the top. Just as he had seen, she was there…waiting for him?

"A bit slow there, Junior. Much too slow for my tastes," Catwoman taunted. "Try to keep up."

He had barely gotten his foot up and onto this roof when the thief dashed off again. "Hey!" he yelled as he stumbled up and followed after her. She was pulling ahead, easily crossing alleyways and the like with simple jumps. His legs were not as long as hers, so he had to take two running steps for her every one. His jumps required more force from his legs, but it seemed like he was starting to catch up.

A whip was unslung, and while Redbird slowed his speed, the weapon was not used for attacking. Upwards she cast it, her aim for a gargoyle in which the whip's end wrapped around. Catwoman leapt upwards, pulled herself up along the whip, and when her jump could take her no further, a booted foot slammed down on the side of the building and she swung out and around, disappearing once more around the corner of that particular building.

This time he was ready for the grapple, firing it so that he could quickly take the high ground. Precious seconds seemed to move by at an accelerated rate, but the young vigilante and true heir had made it to the top. Catwoman should be below him, so he ran at an angle, hoping to reach the ledge of this building to peer over it.

Just the street below, lit up with streetlights. You could make out the moving vehicles, pick up on the reds, yellows, and greens of the traffic lights. What you could not see was any sign of the burglar.

Where had she gone? She should either be in sight or climbing up or…just where the hell had she gone?!

Air blew by his ear, and he knew immediately that that wasn't wind. Spinning around, Redbird swung a fist and watched in aggravation as the woman easily pulled back, exiting his arm length. Not willing to give up so easily, the young vigilante pressed forward, throwing punches and jabs, trying to at least hit her once. One blow ought to disrupt her, and then he could see about capture.

Catwoman dodged the first few attacks, then gave another leapt, one that had her propelled backwards, had body flipped over itself several times until she landed onto an A/C unit. Thin metal rumbled, both from the weight that now rested on top of it and the spinning blades inside of it.

"Anyone ever tell you you have a temper?" Catwoman quipped.

His mother. Damn it, do not let her get into your head! It was bad enough a redheaded orphan had!

"Shut up!" he snapped, already knowing he was not helping his case. To his belt his hand went, a pocket chosen at—no, not at random. Here, this was the bola. Tangle those legs and let's see how fast she could run now!

His arm began to rotate, picking up speed with the bola while the vigilante ran at the thief. The costumed woman remained at ease, watching him, a teasing smile on her face that only served to enrage him more. He could see her body tense, getting ready to move, and another leap—!

The bola was thrown, there was nowhere she could go to evade it! The ball ends of the restrain spun around like a small whirlwind, its target helpless to stop it. Then, impossibly, the thief's hand stretched out, seemingly slipping under the spinning bola, and with a pinch of her fingers she caught it.

Her arm rotated much as his hand before, then the rest of her body twisted around as she began to descend. Redbird kept his head tilted back as he kept Catwoman in sight, his booted feet digging into the floor beneath him. The spinning bola was coming back into sight and then the whip cracked at him, its thin end snapping in front of his face.

He blinked.

His own bola wrapped around him, binding arms and legs together as was its purpose. The ball ends collided then wrapped around one another, locking in as was its design and down he went to his knees. At least, he would have had a gloved hand not caught him.

She was looking down on him. She was looking down on him with that amused smile of hers that was infuriating.

"You're not ready for this, Junior," she remarked. "It will take more than some kung fu and nifty gadgets for this game. Like I said, get some inches first, and maybe we can play again."

Redbird's clenched teeth were visible, his fury growing at this indignity. If Father—or Mother—saw him like this, he could not bear the thought! This could not get any worse!

Then it did.

Now this was sad.

That didn't mean Batgirl didn't take some satisfaction in seeing it.

There was…Redbird, tied up in a bola, the infamous Catwoman thief standing over him. It was certainly not a good look for the brat.

"Now this is hilarious," Bluebird remarked next to her.

Yes, yes it was.

Catwoman glanced up at the three Batclan members. "There's more of you now. Still small fries. I'm starting to think you hero types aren't taking me seriously."

Batgirl didn't reply; she took in the sight of this famed burglar, eventually spotting a bag hanging from her shoulder, the head of some statue sticking out of it. There had been an alert not too long ago about a break-in.

One did not need to be the World's Greatest Detective to put two and two together.

"Surrender yourself," she demanded, standing straighter so that she seemed bigger. Her thin frame didn't help her here.

Catwoman just rolled her eyes. "Already heard that from Junior here. That's a hard pass for me."

"Then you'll go down hard."

The corner of the older woman's mouth twitched up. "You want to try me too? Try to keep up."

In the blink of an eye, the burglar bolted, racing for the opposite side of the roof. The Batclan gave chase, watching as Catwoman dove over the side of the building, disappearing from sight. Reaching the ledge, the three stopped, seeing the woman use a whip as a makeshift grapple, its end wrapped around an unseen anchor point as she swung through the air.

"Dude, that was Catwoman," Bluebird murmured. "This is gonna be intense."

"Bluebird, I want you to head north and take up a position. I will follow her and force her in your direction. When you see her, pin her down with your taser rifle," Batgirl said. She then glanced to their third member, "Spoiler, cut Redbird loose and set yourself up nearby and be ready to ambush her once Bluebird has her pinned down."

"You sure?" Spoiler asked. "We can always leave him here. It seems safe enough."

The three of them simultaneously turned their heads to look at Redbird, who was struggling within the bola. "Do not leave me here!" he shouted indignantly.

As tempting as it was to leave the idiot here, Batgirl knew better than to do that. She really wasn't in the mood to hear him whine again. "Cut him loose and get into position," she reiterated before she threw herself off of the roof, activating the glider mode with her cape. The sound of a grapple gun firing happened a couple seconds later, telling her her orders were being followed.

Sailing through the air, Batgirl searched for her target, eventually spotting the thief a couple buildings away, running full out. Eying her direction, the dark-clad girl made a few adjustments to her flight path, heading for the next building. She was correct in her guess that Catwoman was heading for that one as she leapt over the alleyway that separated them, landing on it.

By then, the younger girl had pulled ahead. Angling one arm down and the other up, she went into a turn, leaning forward so that she was heading down towards the building. Once she was close, she let go of her cape and it fell limp, allowing her to land on the roof, her legs crouching. This put her right in front of Catwoman, who slowed to a stop upon seeing her.

In a flash, Batgirl whipped her arms out, sending a couple of batarangs flying towards the thief. Catwoman threw herself to one side, going into a cartwheel as she planted one hand after the other on the ground, legs flying through the air until she landed back on them.

Springing off of the roof, Batgirl raced towards her foe, leaping into the air as she swung a kick for her opponent's head. Seeing this, Catwoman backed away, dodging the kick as it sailed harmlessly by her face.

Undeterred, Batgirl continued to spin, using the momentum from her missed kick to speed up her spinning. She planted her previously extended leg down on the roof and immediately kicked out with her other leg, aiming to ram it into her opponent's gut. Again, Catwoman backed away, drawing herself closer to the roof access on the building.

Bringing her foot down again, she lunged forward, throwing a punch. Punch after punch few, yet Batgirl never landed a blow as Catwoman kept backpedaling. It was frustrating. She could read the woman's body language and saw she had no intent on attacking. She kept herself defensive, more so evasive. She kept moving backwards to avoid each punch thrown at her. Yet, despite seeing this and knowing it, no matter how Batgirl adjusted to bring herself closer and increase her odds of hitting her foe, somehow Catwoman was able to bend herself in mid-dodge to counter these adjustments.

And then she darted to one side as Batgirl threw yet another punch. However, they had moved right up to the roof access, and the young woman's fist slammed right into the brick. Though it hurt, the force of her blow actually cracked the bricks, small pieces crumbling off.

Ignoring the throbbing she felt in her knuckles, Batgirl turned her head to keep her eyes on Catwoman, who actually stared at the cracked bricks. "You can hit hard," she observed with approval in her voice. "I might actually have to take you seriously."

Abruptly she threw her arm out, her hand grasping her whip. With a swing of her arm and a flick of her wrist, the end of the whip snapped at the dark-clad girl. She just tilted her head to one side to avoid it, seeing the attack telegraphed in an instant.

Back and forth, Catwoman snapped her whip, Batgirl gliding from side to side to avoid each strike. Once she got the rhythm, she waited for the next attack to come before charging forward. She went low, her arms held tightly at her sides as she rushed towards her foe, who's eyes widened.

She was going to dodge, left or right, Batgirl could tell based off of the wide spread of the woman's legs, and the angles her feet pointed. The moment Catwoman darted to her right, Batgirl's left, she was onto her. Lunging, Batgirl went into a slide, swinging a leg that managed to land a kick to the back of her foe's foot. This tripped the burglar up, sending her tumbling forward.

Only for Catwoman to turn that tumble into a dive, going feet over head as she went into a roll, ending back up on her feet. She immediately took off running, heading for the edge of the roof.

Damn it, quit running! Batgirl demanded in her head.

As she reached the roof's ledge, Catwoman dove off of it, lashing out with her whip to no doubt snag an anchor point and go into a swing. Running to the end of the roof, Batgirl saw her assumption was right as the thief had managed to snag onto the railing of a fire escape, using it to swing herself down towards the ground. Leaping off of the edge, Batgirl grabbed onto the ends of her cape, using it to parachute herself down to the ground. She landed within seconds of Catwoman on the ground, who darted down the alley they were in, taking a sharp turn into an intersecting alley, one that made it a four-way crossing.

Arms pumping at her sides, Batgirl ran towards the intersecting alley. The turn she had made was taking her in that north direction she wanted her to go, so she wanted to make certain the thief didn't double back. Reaching the turn, she—

A foot slammed right into her face, stars erupting before her eyes. Batgirl's head snapped backwards and she stumbled back a few steps until her back hit the alley wall. For a moment she was stunned. She hadn't ever taken a hit like that before and it startled her.

A blur ran right by her, causing her to turn her head. There was Catwoman running in the wrong direction, leaping up on top of a dumpster and using it to spring up into the air. Her whip lashed out, finding another anchor point, one the burglar used to swing-slash-pull herself up into the air.

It took a moment for Batgirl to register this before she scowled. She reached to her belt to pull out her grapple gun when she sensed someone nearby. Jerking her head, she spotted Redbird nearby, a smirk on his face. "Not so easy, is it?" he taunted her.

"You're not in position," was all she could respond to that.

"The position you want in your flawed plan," he retorted. "Allow me to show you a superior plan."

"You mean the one that gets you tied up in a bola? I don't think so."

Author's Note: What's a story with Catwoman without a classic Catwoman chase?