Reverse Thievery

[Selina Kyle]

There was something utterly irresistible about the glittering of jewels. The movement of lights across their delicately cut surfaces whispered to her in the most sinful way, and she found it nearly impossible to ignore their call. The sheer number of colors they came in fascinated. There was a gem for every color of the rainbow, and just as many different shapes and styles, and as many ways to wear them as there were days in a lifetime. She could wear nothing but jewelry and be quite comfortable, she was sure, but then she was always a bit of an exhibitionist that way. Maybe she would just take a quick pop into this jewelry store...

No, not tonight, Selina Kyle strictly reminded herself, continuing to haul herself foothold over handhold up the side of an imposing building. There were still lights on in some of the rooms she passed by as she carefully made her way to the roof, but she was very careful not to be seen and not to make too much noise. She was good, perhaps, but this was Gotham City Police Department she was talking about. It required a little bit of finesse. The jewelry store across the street would simply have to wait.

Besides, tonight her mission wasn't supposed to be thieving. Tonight, in fact, she was righting wrongs. Her time in juvenile detention hadn't been kind, but it might have been far less harsh had it not been for the Headmistress of her center, a woman whose personality was as severe as her looks. The living conditions had been deplorable, and she had never quite trusted the look of the staff. A break in a few nights ago had confirmed her suspicions that the officious woman was swindling money from the city, and she was determined to deliver it into the right hands. The woman's prize diamond necklace she had included was a gift to the center, one she was debating keeping every moment it burdened down her tiny backpack. She could feel the heavy, crystal clear, diamond-cut gorgeousness hanging around her neck, all glittery and stunning.

Bah!

She at last slipped onto the ledge she had been eying the entire time, a floor or two below the rooftop. She stooped in the six or so inches she had to work with and slipped a razorblade under the window sill, working at the window locks in near silence. She would just pop this onto the commissioner's desk and then off she would go, easy peasy. Little did she know, she was not the only person in a mask roaming the city's skyline that evening.

[Bruce Wayne]

It was time. As Bruce Wayne, he’d found Batman’s newfound exile and recently acquired public disdain quite refreshing. For those who were on the outside looking in, Bruce was simply a fresh-faced young man with very little brains one helluva bank book. He lived as he pleased with apparently no concern for the consequences that such a frivolous existence afforded and, all in all, he was fine with that – on the surface. Lurking within Mr Wayne’s conscience, however, was the Dark Knight. Filled with determination and vengeance, he could not be as easily satisfied.

On this night he prowled the city, taking comfort in the shadows cast over the urban labrynth like a spectral fishing net. What foul villains would he drag into the fold in these treacherous hours between sunset and sunrise? Or - in a bizarre twist of fate that still left a bitter tang in his mouth since the fall of Harvey Dent - would he be the one who was brought to face Gotham’s questionable justice? Muscles bunched and then relaxed as he moved with silent grace from rooftop to rooftop, the distinct snapping of his membranous cape the only fading evidence that he had been there at all.

He needed to speak to Gordon. He needed to clear his name and begin working with Gotham PD again if they were going to get anywhere. The events of the past couple of weeks; the attack on Gotham PD’s computer network, the mysterious package he received and the killing of an officer at his birthday party all distinctly pointed to a new and more dangerous foe laughing from his VIP seating. Then of course there was the threat of the woman calling herself Poison Ivy. His mind reeled at what destruction lay before Gotham and, although he was somewhat reluctant, Batman had no choice but to turn heel and backtrack.

The stoic façade of Gotham PD loomed before him. Leaping from the edge of a nearby skyscraper he glided towards it like a true bat honing in on its prey. Landing with a soft thud and a cautionary look at the balcony where he had met with Gordon on so many previous occasions to discuss business, Batman felt suddenly ill at ease when he thought he had quelled the more destructive nerves. When his colourless eyes stopped their scan of his surroundings at the window to the Commissioner’s office, he knew why.

“Forget your key?” he asked in a gravelled tone.

[Selina Kyle]

Selina's mouth dropped open plainly in an expression of shock. Really? No way. Even though he had been all over the newspapers a part of her had never really believed that the Bat Man existed, or if he did that he was really as omnipresent as some people seemed to think he was. She had never considered him as she started on her new career, assuming, perhaps, that if he did exist and if he was as mysterious and powerful as everyone thought he would have much bigger fish to fry than a girl with an eye for shiny things. Maybe, though, she was wrong, and she certainly didn't want to get on the wrong side of some whacked out psycho killer in a mask.

She quickly wiped the expression of surprise off her features, her clever mind clicking through her options methodically. She could run, she could hide, she could scream and try to get the attention of all the cops within the department. All valid options, but each had their own merits depending on how this played out. In the meantime, she needed to buy some time, so she stood up, smiling in that aw shucks way she might have used if this hadn't been a late night, high rise meeting in a precarious location. For them, after all, this wasn't such a unique occurrence, was it?

"As a matter of fact, I did," she told him, slipping her hands onto her hips as she considered him, and mentally sensed her surroundings. There was a slight breeze that night, a breeze that when it went rushing through the alleyways could kick up to quite a gusty inner city wind. Despite that, she thought she could jump down from the ledge and make it to the famous flagpoles out front if needed, a perch which would allow her to swing away and begin a run. If only she could get a quick look first; she didn't like the idea of jumping blind.

"I don't suppose you could help a girl out?" she asked, tilting her hips sassily. "Big strong guy like you could make quick work of a rusty old window like this." Her lips turned up in a smirk.

[Bruce Wayne]

Something about her fascinated him. It wasn't merely a pretty girl in an insinuating outfit; he was far beyond such trivialities. She had an air of self indulgence that he recognised simply through years of imitating it. He refrained from showing any such knowledge on his lower face for the moment, keeping hsi expression pressed into the mould that he had so long ago constructed for it out of a mask of hard skin and a determined jaw. A brow did manage to hitch itself beneath the thick black covering he wore as the Bat; an action that might have gone unnoticed by the woman had his voice not hinted at it as well.

"I probably could," he agreed blithely, his gaze following through to ook at the window she had been trying to jimmy open. "But I think it would be a conflict of interests. You see," he said, stepping closer to the charismatic woman and leaning with a studied nonchalance against the stone wall of the building next to the window with one well-developed arm draped protectively across the top of the frame. He was only inches away from her, his presence making an attempt at subtle intimidation. He didn't want to threaten her without surely knowing her purpose there, but nor was he going to fuly sully Batman's reputation by aiding and abetting.

"I'm generally known for keeping the bad guys out. Or the bad girls in this case."

[Selina Kyle]

She opened her mouth in a perfect "O", though no sound came out. "I do see," she replied, though her tone was tainted by doubt. She lifted her chin and let her eyes coast across his mask and face, but it was hard to tell anything about him with his face obscured by disguises of many kinds, both Kevlar and flesh. His close proximity did put her senses on high alert, and she was painfully aware of the nearness of the ledge that could easily become her last perch. She would rather not have to test her skills in a free fall if she could possibly help it, so the time was soon coming for her to try to talk her way out of this, if she could.

"You know," she told him, taking a very small step forward. She mirrored his posture by placing one hand along the near side of the window frame, as if to claim it back from this encroaching interloper. The nearness was deceiving, as the small step allowed her to move the leg that wasn't holding her weight slowly backward a few inches until she could feel open sky behind her. Now able to judge her escape to freedom if needed, she took up the conversation again.

"I had heard that you were one of the bad guys," she told him, tilting her head softly, as if this would help her judge him better. "You know, just idle rumors, news clips, a police report or two." She added the last one in as a bit of cheek, a nod to the fact that she had been trying to break into the police station. "Makes sense," she added, shrugging a shoulder higher as she then lifted her face to his. "After all... why would a good guy... wear a mask?" She let the question hang on the air as she looked at him.

[Bruce Wayne]

The nearness of her actually had the opposite effect to which he had originally intended. Whilst his motive had been to intimidate her and possibly put himself in a position where his strength in close quarters would come into his own if needed (not that he was in the habit of picking fights with women), he found instead that he was the one who suddenly felt unsure of himself. Her undeniable sass and audacity as she mimicked his protectiveness over the window frame was unexpected and distinctly bold and even though the Bat was used to criminals in this town hefting their brass it was, for some reason, a different ball game entirely when slung by this woman.

Instead of offering a witty retort or even trying to change her opinion of him he merely stood there and occupied his space, mentally whipping himself for his self-sacrificing tendencies. Now that he had decided to pull his socks up (thanks, in large part, to a rather scathing pep-talk from Alfred) it was going to take time to recover the ground he had lost in recent months. He decided to try and put a different spin on it and he looked at her intently, his greyish eyes stitched to hers. Normally he could get a feel for people, pick their more obvious tendencies and use them to his advantage. For all her cheek and sultry body language, however, he was completely at a loss.

“I have terrible acne,” he eventually replied to her last supposition, his tone attempting monotony and falling just shy with a hint of sarcasm. Deciding that their banter had carried on for long enough and it was time to get down to business he lifted his chin, a sub-conscious effort to exert some kind of authority. “What are you doing here?” he questioned her, noticing for the first time the backpack straps running over her shoulders and hugging her lithe frame.

[Selina Kyle]

A quaint laugh escaped her nose at his quick quip. Somehow, she doubted that. He might have some other kind of defect, but judging by the rest of him, if she could judge through all that armor, well, he had nothing to be ashamed of. She was still certain that the mask betrayed some perceived deeper defect, and she was sure that if she wanted to she could rib him about it a little longer. But she didn't. He seemed less dazzled by her overwhelming presence than he had been at first, and she didn't want to take her chances. That said, she didn't trust him, either. No way she was telling him anything about herself, least of all what she was doing here.

"Midnight stroll," she responded, using the exactly same tone that he had used in his evasive answer. "And if you don't mind, I think I'll get back to it." Using her backwards foot as a kind of marker for where the edge was, she stepped back and let herself fall backward off the balcony, only catching herself from a several story fall by grabbing onto one of the flagpoles jutting out from the building, the city's flag whipping beneath her. With agile ease she swung herself upward like an Olympic gymnast on the high bars, eventually lifting herself into a crouch on the pole. She took half a moment to regain her balance and judge her surroundings before quickly making her way down the length of the flagpole back to the stone wall nearby. She moved easily across the length of space towards the nearest window, making use of the decorative architecture as a rock climber does on the sheer face of a mountain.

She was nearly to her destination when the aging building betrayed her and a small part of the antique facade came loose beneath her fingertips. She tried to reestablish her grip but by then her precarious balance had been thrown off and she felt herself falling backwards towards the unforgiving pavement below. She gave a small gasp of surprise and a flailed her slender arms, and at last found her saving grace. The fabric of the American flag behind her billowed against her and in a desperate bid to keep from falling she grabbed hold, barely clinging to the fabric.

The wind howling through the city streets no longer seemed a mere breeze as she held on for dear life now stories above. This high up they seemed a whirlwind and they blew her black hair around her face and made her breath feel stolen. She looked up to the pole above and gingerly tried to reach up to grab it, but missed. As she waited on a second wind, she could do nothing but look down and hang out, and hope that if the Bat were still around he was really the good guy he said he was.

[Bruce Wayne]

Batman was used to bad guys with a little more gun power and a little less finesse. He had opened his mouth to speak again when she stepped away from him and free-fell from the ledge, his hand automatically reaching out to grab her on instinct and instead being rewarded with a fistful of chilly night air. He glared down into the abyss that would see her dissipate over Gotham PD’s expansive steps below, trying to pick out her black-clad form in the darkness. His keen eyes locked onto a flicker of movement and he watched in awe as she scrambled up the building’s facia, nimbly swinging herself up and onto the flag-bearer. Appreciation soon turned to concern when she slipped, and he reacted without thinking twice.

Having been in the game a little longer he had a few more tricks up his sleeve, tricks which he put into great effect in that moment. After having leapt from the precipice himself, Batman flicked out the electro-magnetic wings that made up so much of his signature image. Holding his arms out to his sides in a manoeuvre that slowed his fall without deviating him from his course, he bent his right arm in to snatch the woman from her predicament as he plummeted past her. The imbalance caused by now only having one wing in operation forced him to swoop in a swift arc around the flag pole and past the front of the building. Bringing his left arm in as the ground neared, he concentrated on the landing and made it with relative ease considering he was used to doing it solo.

For a few moments he just stood there in his half crouch, his arm securely around her and her exercise-heightened body heat filtering slowly but surely through the thick Kevlar encasement that he wore. He looked down into her face, wondering if she would have a clever remark after such a near miss and taking his bets that she did. Her eyes were a mystery and he held them with his even as his clever left hand peeled open her backpack and reached inside for the contents.

“Maybe next time you decide to go for a stroll,” he advised, secreting his find away on his person, “You should look both ways.”

It was now, as their faces were only inches apart and he held her in a semi compromising position that he felt the first flushes of guilt rise in him. He shouldn’t be standing here like this with someone he suspected was a criminal! Pressing his lips together for a second he released her, stepping back and removing himself from both the woman and the situation in general but the damage had been done. Across the street in a shadowy window was a person with a digital camera; a man who had been trying to take photos of the new moon but who had just made himself a fortune in digital video footage once he could find a decent buyer.

[Selina Kyle]

And out of nowhere, her wish was answered. There was a distinct thud as the Bat's strong, armor-covered arms collided with her middle and she instinctively released her grip on the flag. Quickly, her iron grip was transferred to the man who now carried her through the night on his mythical wings. This didn't seem all that much safer to her, and she vocalized a short and soft yell of, "Oh!" as they careened towards the ground. She closed her eyes shut as they came down for a landing, and was a little surprised when they didn't go splat with a bunch of bruising and scraping. If anything was bruised, it was her ego, and if anything was scraping it was her body against his steel-plated form.

Nevertheless, it took her a moment to breathe again, and to open her pale green eyes onto her surroundings. Ahhh, she was alive, and forgive her if her first thought wasn't to let go of the bulky, six-foot-handsome hero who had saved her life. It took her a good few moments to even contemplate moving, and when she did, heaven help her, she only thought about moving in towards him. It was her mistake, she would later realize; apparently she wasn't the only person in Gotham capable of distracting the opposite sex while she did a little dastardly deed. She would later find this lingering embrace had given the Dark Knight the perfect opportunity to deprive her of her glory for the evening, in more ways than one.

But that moment was not now. For now, she simply looked up into his face when he looked down at her, unable to keep her chin from tilting up a little so that their mouths were, totally coincidentally, aligned. By now the sexual magnetism she exuded was so second nature that she put off the vibe without considering it, but it was especially pronounced now, with him so close and her so grateful. When he used her own line against her, her lips turned up into a catty grin, and she responded easily. "I wasn't worried. A cat always lands on her feet."

The spell was broken when he forcibly pulled away, leaving the younger woman stranded for balance and his touch. Hmph! What a tease! She visibly pouted from beneath her mask, her mouth getting the better of her. "But I guess she doesn't always get the cream."

[Bruce Wayne]

Ashamed to think he was breathing a little heavier than he ought to, Batman took store of the words that she used. A cat? Only later, when he had the chance to inspect the things he had stolen from her in private, would he realise what she meant by such a term. Her pout reminded him of his position, and he folded his arms over his chest in an attempt at self-preservation. He really was at an impasse. On the one hand, he hadn’t caught her doing anything more sinister than attempting to break and enter which, by Gotham’s recent standards, was hardly a crime at all. On the other, he was pretty sure that she had been up to no good.

For the time being, however, he was simply going to have to give her the benefit of the doubt. He had no evidence either way, and he was sure that if he was patient he would find out what she was up to. He had a feeling that this wasn’t the first ‘stroll’ she had taken, and his intuition taunted him that it wouldn’t be the last. Her comment caught him almost completely off guard and he looked at her sharply, stunned to know that he hadn’t been the only one to feel the unnerving (for him) sexual chemistry between them.

“At least you still have eight lives left,” he reminded her with a hint of warning. “If I were you, I’d try not to waste them showing off.” He smirked.0

[Selina Kyle]

She mirrored his smirk, able to read into his words and tone the things he didn't say, like that she was off the hook. "So I get away with just a slap on the wrist?" she asked, sounding an odd mixture of pleased and disappointed. And she was. She was pleased because she fancied that getting herself out of trouble had been the work of her charm and wit, rather than his pickpocketing. And she was disappointed because... well... it's best in her own words.

She moved to walk past him, the smirk still tainting her pale pink mouth. Her tone was a tad dry and a lot suggestive as she let her words fall like raindrops over her shoulder in her wake. "And here I was hoping a good spanking might be in order." Like a good cat she swished her tail down the alleyway, only chancing a look back when she reached the end and turned halfway to see if he was still watching. If he was, it was the last glimpse he would get of her, because a moment later she disappeared around that corner and again around another beyond that.

If he followed her, she would never know, but one thing she did know; he would think about her. And in the end that was all the catty little kitten needed.

[Bruce Wayne]

Paying attention to his inner guide, Batman decided to let bygones be bygones. Her smirk, her tone and her feline-like saunter were all formidable weapons in their own right, and he had bigger fish to fry that evening without looking for undue trouble. In his experience criminals usually stayed away from the police headquarters instead of actively hanging around; perhaps she was telling the truth. Willing, in this instance, to give her the benefit of the doubt he simply melted into the shadows of Gotham, waiting for another night to delve into the newest mystery to present itself to him.