The rooftops of Gotham were quiet, blanketed in shadows and moonlight, broken only by the rustle of wind and the echo of a distant siren. Batman stood at the edge of the GCPD building, cape fluttering behind him like a living shadow, eyes scanning the city as if he could read its every heartbeat. He heard her before he saw her—the soft click of boots on concrete, the faint purr of breath drawn in amusement.
"You always did like the high places, Bat," Catwoman's voice curled around him like silk, teasing and familiar.