The Red Rose was a fancy yacht run by the Falconies that not a lot of people could get into but Selina Kyle, Selina Kyle always found a way.

Here amidst the aristocrats of Gotham and a crime family pushed into obscurity, Selina had a mission. Backless black dress and silent footsteps across the Gambling Hall, Selina was looking for some files in the yacht’s offices. Her brain was telling her to focus but she was having a hard time controlling her hands seeing all the rich and the clueless walking around bedazzled in glittering jewellery and expensive watches. They all walked around thinking in ignorance thinking that they were safe, that their possessions were safe. Ignorance was a bliss after all and ignorance made for the easiest target. On her way to the offices, she thought a little detour wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Wallets, watches, necklaces all for the taking. So easy, so expensive but Selina liked a challenge and a challenge she got.

Mrs. Travers, 41-year-old real estate owner and both a figurative and literal glutton. Around her two necks was a necklace, big and golden with a bright green emerald in the centre. The thing about rich people is that it was easy to nick a watch or a wallet. Unless it had sentimental value, they wouldn’t miss it. Mrs. Travers on the other hand would miss her necklace and that’s what made stealing so fun.

Selina was going to make sure she did this one directly. She’d love to see the look on her face when she stole the necklace. She’d be hiking up prices over Alleytown, stealing away homes from the people who lived there. Selina wondered how she would feel being stolen from.

Her eyes darted around; the office was in the northmost part of the Casino. Once she took the necklace it wouldn’t take long before people start crowding around her and if Travers was as smart as she didn’t look, she’d point out Selina in less than a few seconds. The guards would start looking for her and probably follow her through to the offices making her life difficult and challenging. The job would be much, much easier if she just went to the office she was looking for.

But Selina liked challenges.

She blended in with the crowd, ignoring the men calling after her. The ball leapt around the roulette, the cards snapped on the blackjack table and rolled on the poker table. Selina stepped in front of Mrs. Travers and bumped into her, in the process spilling wine on her glittering white dress.

Mrs. Travers was startled at first, staring at the bright red blotch on her precious dress. Selina mumbled a half-hearted sorry before slipping into the crowd. Mrs. Travers was dumfounded at the stain on her dress before her face lit up like a neon sign and she called after Selina.

“Come back here this instant.”

Five seconds later she noticed her necklace was missing. “Thief!” she screeched.

By that time Selina had already disappeared into the crowds, slipping the necklace into her purse but that didn’t stop the guards from perking their heads up like meercats and start looking for her.

The crowd was panicked, everybody clutching their valuables to them like they were their children. All the while Selina made tried making her way to the offices.

“There she is!” Travers shouted at her. The crowd parted and Selina started making a dash for it as guards sprinted towards her. She groaned as she realised the dress was slowing her down. One of the guards grabbed her, she turned around, grabbed his wrist and flipped him over.

“No touching,” she said. She sprinted to the office rooms, dress hoisted up and burst into the side door as guards rushed past the door, screaming after her. When she was sure the coast was clear, Selina rummaged through her purse.

“Time to change into something more… comfortable.”

She pulled on her black leather spandex, tightly fitting around her body. With a black mask over her face and bright red goggles. She pulled on her gloves and flexed her fingers to make sure the claws were working before she left the room. Unfortunately, her weapons would have been easy to detect by the metal detectors at the front of the ship so she had to settle with the claws. She slipped the emerald necklace into one of her pouches deciding she could pawn it off later.

Catwoman (as Selina elected to call herself when she wore this thing seeing as there was already a Batman and a Spider-Man) snuck through the narrow hallways of the ship, slipping into one of the offices if a guard passed by her. One of the guards was standing in front of Carmine Falcone’s office, the office she was looking for. She slipped on the roof, the magnets of her gloves and boots attaching her to them and wrapped her legs around the guard’s mouth, the guard clawed at her legs before his body sagged. Selina got off and made sure the coast was clear before dragging his body into the office.

The office screamed Carmine Falcone. A window looking out into the sea (and Catwoman’s escape route). Expensive carpet, desk, shelf and chandelier hanging overhead. A vase filled with roses (Carmine loved roses as much as Catwoman hated the Falconies) and a safe right out in the open almost as if an ode to an era where they thought they were untouchable. Catwoman wasn’t here for the safe (though it wouldn’t hurt to check it out later) she was here for the accounting books on the shelves. More specifically the books that were 28 years old. Catwoman didn’t quite like being reminded of her age but it was a necessary evil in the search for answers.

Catwoman shuffled through her pouches, looking for the tiny torch she always brought with her as she skimmed through the files before 1988 and during 1988.

She didn’t have the time to read through all of them so she just stuffed them in her pouch wrapped around her side and went over to the safe, ear pressed against the metal surface as she spun the dial.

There was an invasive silence. Catwoman kept an ear out for any sounds, any guards that would distract her.

Click.

She heard shuffling footsteps in the distance. It would be wise to go but Catwoman never left a job undone.

Click.

Footsteps getting louder. She even heard guns being loaded.

Click.

Just one more she thought as the footsteps grew closer.

Click.

And she was exposed to a treasure vault of jewellery and money that wouldn’t fit in her pouch. She tried stuffing it all in when…

“Catwoman,” Batman said.

Catwoman turned around and saw Batman standing behind her. She barely heard his footsteps.

“And what are you doing here?” Catwoman said, hands behind her back slipping it into her pouch.

“That’s none of your business.”

“So stiff,” Catwoman purred. The door behind Batman swung open and she noticed unconscious bodies littering the hallway. “And cold. Maybe you should ease up a little.”

“You’ve stolen from museums,” Batman said. “Banks and jewellery stores. You’re a kleptomaniac that justifies her stealing by claiming it’s virtuous.”

“Now that’s just mean.”

“I’m here to stop you,” Batman said, taking up a fighting stance.

“You wouldn’t hit a girl, would you?”

“I don’t discriminate.”

Catwoman swung her right leg, Batman ducked and threw a punch which Catwoman narrowly avoided. Batman threw three Batarangs and Catwoman dashed out of the way, returning the favour by throwing the vase of roses. Batman held up his gauntlet and the vase cracked, spilling the roses and water all over. Catwoman pounced at him which Batman returned with a kick to her stomach, Catwoman rolled back on the floor.

“It’s over,” Batman said, yanking her up by her arms. “I have you.”

Catwoman smirked. “You’ll find I’m good with my hands.” Nestled in between the fingers of her free hand were smoke pellets. Batman had no time to react as Catwoman threw them on the ground. Smoke invaded the room and despite the coughing fit, Batman still had a strong grip on her arm. Catwoman didn’t like that; she used that moment to turn around and wrap her legs around his torso flipping him over with her weight. Catwoman quickly ran to the window, it didn’t take long for Batman to recover as he bounded for her. He almost grabbed a hold of her but Catwoman leapt out of the window.