The wind howled through Gotham's streets, biting at anything in its path. Snow swirled around the city like a blanket of cold indifference. Even in the dead of night, Gotham breathed—its heart beating in the alleyways, under the cover of falling snow, and within the shadows that moved unseen. Batman rode his motorcycle through the slick streets, a silhouette against the frozen backdrop of the city. It was freezing tonight, colder than usual. Gotham was always cold in its soul, but now, the air had sharpened to match the city's unrelenting edge. Snow fell in thick sheets, dimming the glow of the streetlights. He patrolled silently, eyes scanning for any sign of movement, when his comm buzzed softly—a silent alarm had gone off at a jewelry store nearby. He turned the bike down a narrow street, barely needing to make a sound, and parked in the shadows. The glass door of the store had been cracked open—a professional job, slick and quiet. And there, inside, he saw her. She moved with feline grace, her black suit clinging to her like a second skin, long hair spilling over her shoulders, goggles perched on her head. Batman stayed in the shadows, studying her, while she worked the safe's lock with delicate fingers. It didn't take long for her to feel him watching. Catwoman turned slowly, a smile tugging at her lips when she noticed the imposing figure in the dark. "Looks like someone's a little late to the party," she teased, her voice smooth as silk. "I was just about to leave." Before he could respond, she darted toward the window in a fluid motion. Batman was quicker, cutting her off before she could escape. A burst of energy followed, and the two of them were out of the store and into the icy night, with Catwoman leaping onto the rooftops with the agility of her namesake. He followed her across the skyline of Gotham, their chase a dance between predator and prey, though it was never quite clear who was who. The rooftops were slick with snow, but she moved with confidence, and Batman matched her pace, never letting her get too far ahead. At the edge of an abandoned rooftop, she finally stopped, catching her breath. Batman landed a few feet away, his cape billowing in the frigid wind. Snow fell around them, heavy and thick, the city's skyline glittering in the distance. Catwoman stood facing him, her lips curling into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Persistent, aren't you?" she said softly, her breath visible in the cold air. Batman said nothing, his gaze steady, unwavering. She took a step closer, the smile still playing on her lips. "You're not the first man to try and catch me, you know." He watched her carefully, his eyes narrowing under the mask. She was close enough now that he could feel the heat radiating from her, a stark contrast to the biting cold of the night. She tilted her head, as if studying him, and took another step closer. Her hand grazed his chest, and though the touch was light, it was enough to create a tension neither of them could deny. "I'm not like the others," Batman said, his voice low, almost a growl. "Oh, I can tell." Her fingers lingered for a moment longer before she spun, catching him off guard with a swift kick aimed at his ribs. Batman blocked her strike, and within seconds, they were locked in a flurry of blows. Their movements were fast, precise—each testing the other, each holding back just enough to avoid doing real harm. Catwoman's body pressed against his in the struggle, her breath quick and shallow, her strikes nimble and fluid. He caught her wrist mid-swing and pulled her close, pinning her against the cold stone of the rooftop. The sudden closeness made her pause, the fight momentarily forgotten as their faces were inches apart. Her lips parted slightly as she stared up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. Batman could feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek, her eyes locking onto his with a dangerous glint. "Guess you've got me," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the howling wind. But there was no fear in her eyes, only challenge. She arched against him, her body brushing against his, the contact sending a jolt of tension through the air between them. For a brief moment, neither of them moved. The snow fell silently around them, the world seeming to pause, leaving only the two of them caught in the space between violence and something else. Then, with a quick twist, she slipped from his grasp, spinning away from him like smoke in the wind. Batman lunged, but she was already gone, disappearing into the night as swiftly as she had appeared. He stood there, his breath steady despite the intensity of their encounter. The cold of Gotham's winter pressed in around him, but the heat of the chase still lingered in the back of his mind. Catwoman was gone, but he knew it wouldn't be their last meeting. The city was quieter now, the snow piling higher, muffling the streets. As Batman stood on the rooftop where Catwoman had slipped away, he felt the weight of the winter night closing in around him. The chase was over, for now, but there was no doubt in his mind that they'd cross paths again. She was too good at playing games—and something told him she wanted him to play along. But he didn't linger long on the thought. There were more pressing matters. The city was still bleeding from within, criminals taking advantage of the brutal winter, and Hush, the phantom behind all the violence, was still out there. Every lead brought him closer, but not close enough. His motorcycle was waiting for him where he left it, a simple machine compared to the behemoth of the Batmobile still under construction. It cut through the snow-covered streets with a quiet hum, the black tires leaving deep tracks in the slush. The wind bit through his suit, but he hardly noticed anymore. Gotham's cold had become just another part of him. As he drove deeper into the city, he kept to the shadows, the alleys and backstreets where no one would notice him. His mind still lingered on the woman in black, her face framed by that dark hair, her eyes flashing with something that was both playful and dangerous. He shook the thought away. The night was far from over, and Catwoman was only a distraction, for now.
