Fight!

"Return the statue and I'll let you go," Batman demanded.

"Let me go? You haven't caught me yet!" Catwoman scoffed. "Besides, I don't think I want to part with my new gold kitty."

"Don't make me do this," he growled.

"Do what?"

"This!" The Dark Knight dashed forward, surprisingly fast for a man 6'2" and 210 pounds sans his armor and gear, and leapt at Catwoman with a flying kick. She easily dodged to the side and deflected his swing as he quickly regained his footing. With the flick of her wrists, her retractable claws popped out but they were useless against his Kevlar padded ceramic composite armor. However, he had his Achilles' heel -- his exposed mouth.

Catwoman maybe a cat burglar who avoided physical confrontation if possible but, like any cornered animal, she would fight. She may not be a match to Batman's strength but she was more agile -- he could not hurt her if he could not hit her. Also, she lacked his martial prowess of many various fighting techniques but she was trained in the dragon style kung fu by the Armless Master, allowing her to hold her own against him, at least until she had an opportune moment to flee.

The two did a deadly dance of punches and kicks on the rooftop. If anyone was watching the fight would have looked like it was choreographed. He would punch and she would dodge. She would rake and he would block. Kicks were blocked with parries. This was not a contest of who would land the last blow but who could endure longer. Catwoman had no intention of finding out. Seeing an opening she managed to scratch Batman's chin, not deep enough to scar his handsome face but enough to draw blood.

"First blood," she purred and did a back handspring to avoid his grasp. Landing on the ledge she blew him a kiss before throwing down a smoke bomb to conceal her leaping off the roof.

Batman growled as he ran through the dissipating smoke and dropped down to the alley below, slowed down by his cape spread out to act as a parachute. The Dark Knight landed surprisingly graceful for a man his size and he immediately dashed down the lane, only to stop suddenly in front of dumpster and instinctively parried Catwoman's foot that would have landed solidly against his jaw.

His riposte jab was easily countered by the feline fatale. Batman's typical foes were brutish thugs that were sometimes double Catwoman's size and they were often armed with bats, chains, and guns. He had sacrificed mobility for armor to protect him against a dozen attackers at once, a fact that Selina proudly exploited as she rolled, leapt, and dodged his punches and kicks. Deciding that the fight had gone long enough, Batman hit a button on his utility belt and in the distance a low rumbling noise was rapidly approaching. As the two continued their martial stalemate, car alarms were going off as the V12 engine sound became louder and louder.

"Seriously?!" Catwoman exclaimed, leaping up to avoid being run over the the sleek, armored black car that plowed through the dumpsters in the dingy alley. Batman ran up the hood of the Batmobile, which stopped mere inches from its master, and grabbed hold of Selina by her waist before she could flee. He pulled her down and pinned her against top of the car.

"New car? I never seen this one before," she noted with a sly smile. Batman indeed did have a large selection of vehicles back in his lair, each one customized, tweaked, and modified to serve a role based on the mission at hand.

"Get in," he growled, letting her go.

"You're not going to arrest me?" she purred. Every time they tangled Batman had never handed her over to police. In fact, more than a few times they gave into their carnal instincts. She teasingly spread her thighs apart.

"Not here." He unlocked the doors. "Get in," he repeated.