Taming the cat.

You watched from your drone's video feed as Catwoman exited the museum via a skylight she'd previously sliced one round, catburglar-sized hole in and made her way across the rooftops, into the rainy night and towards where you stood concealed.

Catwoman was a world-class thief, it had taken her all of five minutes to get in and out with the diamond. Honestly, any Gothamite who put a rock that expensive on display was asking to have it stolen, just like the Cat was asking for it, wearing that tight, tight catsuit, tantalisingly unzipped on her nightly excursions.

You'd been following her for a while now. Watched her pull off a handful of jobs over the last few nights. After a while, predicting her movements was easy enough. You'd been trained to track and take down prey as smart as her, albeit not for the reasons you had in mind.

The fact was, you were a recent transplant to Gotham's underworld. Why work your own score when you could rip off a major player like the Cat? It'd give you respect with the various factions, you could take her haul. Better yet, Catwoman had something of a reputation as a lone wolf. Sure, there were the rumours about her and the Bat, but none of the major gangs would come gunning for you if you took down the feline thief.

Of course, the fact Catwoman was a stone cold fox only sweetened the deal.

As she drew close, you moved into action, savouring the pounce, the feeling of having gotten the drop on her. You lobbed a smoke bomb towards her path and jumped down from your vantage point, landing with a flip.

You strode out of the billowing cloud confidently. The Cat had stopped in her tracks.

"Damn it, I was hoping you were Batman. Turns out you're just the dime store version." Catwoman said, looking you up and down, from your dark grey body armour to your black helmet.

"I'm nothing like Batman, Cat." You say simply. For one, the tools hanging from your utility belt were a little more... practical. In your experience, a round from a silenced .45 put an opponent out of commission faster than a batarang.

"You say that... but when you see him, you're gonna realise you both wore the same thing to the party. And Bruce's is more expensive. Awkward!" Catwoman said mockingly.

"You do have a point there. However the Bat pays for his equipment, it obviously cost a lot more than mine. But I'm just starting out, a hungry young start-up with a lot of potential for growth. And from where I'm standing, that diamond'll make for great seed capital."

Catwoman smirked, pacing from side to side and nonchalantly stretching. This had the added benefit of giving you a great view of her lithe, toned body. Part of you knew she was playing you, trying to dazzle you with her considerable feminine wiles. Still, you were glad for a look over the merchandise before it came down to brass tacks.

"I know, let's split it. I found it, got there first, pulled off the job and got out unseen. You stood on a water tower and threw a firecracker. So I'm thinking a nice, fair 100-0 split?"

"One chance, Catwoman. Put the rock on the floor now and get lost. I'll let you go... unmolested." You said, idly resting a hand on your pistol's grip.

"You are a lot like the Bat. Same aversion to the chase, the fun of it." Catwoman says, a vital spark in her green eyes.

"My fun's what happens after you put up a fight." You tell her. "I'll level with you, my offer was bullshit. I know you're not leaving without a fight, and Pussy? That's fine by me."

Catwoman flexes her fingers and her gloved claws extend, glinting in the moonlight. Wordlessly, she licks her lips and readies to pounce at you.