“This is a little excessive, don’t you think?"
Oh, they were all the same. Men. Perhaps not all of them, but most certainly the majority. Selina had grown weary of the arrogance. Give a man a smidge of control, allow even a little crumb of audacity, and watch them morph into those stereotypical misogynistic caricatures, with unjustified egos complementing their self awarded swagger. Mansplaining all the air out of the room and calling it intelligence. What a fucking joke. To be clear, Selina was not a man-hater. That would require too much energy. Besides, she could attribute a significant portion of her accumulated wealth over the years to the gullible, patriarchal imagination of man. So easily manipulated to work in her favor, it had become a sport. Flutter her eyes a little, sway her hips in just the right way…show a man what he expects to see, and he won’t look beneath the surface. And she’d admit, the leather bodysuit certainly did wonders to aid her campaign. "Not that I’m opposed to a little bondage, mind loosening these zip ties a little boys. I’m delicate”
Walter Crockett was just the type of scum of the earth male that Selina didn’t care for. A little stump of a man that Gotham hardly considered an established criminal – but at least he wasn’t proclaiming some outlandish gimmick. Not a face painted henchman in sight, what a delightful surprise. He did, however, possess an inflated pride and a delusory sense of authority. Though she knew someone had to be financing Walter, she couldn’t fathom him organizing something this intricate with such a pitiful reputation. And that was the tricky part. “You broke into my warehouse, made fools out of my security team, and stole my property. I think this is just what you deserved” he sneered. Crockett alone was small potatoes and Selina would have had little issue squashing him beneath her expensive stiletto boots. Even as he attempted to impose his meager five foot three figure of her – tied to a chair with his lackeys surrounding her – she could easily overpower him. But, she had to play it cool to figure out who his backer was and weather she actually was in serious shit. “All this over a tiny little diamond? Walter, be reasonable”
Selina clenched her teeth against the looming eye roll as she felt the cool barrel of a handgun press against her temple. Rather than that, she tilted her head toward the henchman brandishing the weapon, offering him an intentionally sultry simper. “Perhaps it would operate better if the safety was off, darling,” she observed, evidently irritated the tiny villain. Selina cocked her head back as Walter drew his gun and aimed it squarely at her delicate nose. “Shut up!” his outburst was uncalled for and unwelcome. Selina only cocked her head around the barrel and pressed her lips forward in an enticing pout, releasing a sigh. “No need to shout Walter, I’m sure we can work something out,” she purred, unfolding and refolding her leather-clad legs. As he took a glimpse down, she could see the tremble in his grasp. Poor men, always confusing their pistols with their privates.
Bruce remained crouched in the rafters, his form completely concealed in the deep, dark shadows that were cast above the dingy warehouse lighting. He’d been tracking Crockett for some time, mostly from the comfort of his penthouse in Central City, tapping into Gotham’s CCTV and traffic cameras from time to time. He was a crook, and it was high time he paid for his crimes behind bars. Sure, he wasn’t a big bad, but a low-bar criminal was exactly what he needed for his first run back in the cowl.
As far as he could see, there was only one hostage, but they were restrained, so that put a bit of a kink in original plan. When Crockett pulled a gun on the woman, Bruce knew he couldn’t wait a moment longer to drop into the action. Hooking his repel gun to the rafter, he quickly descended from his perch. His feet landed on the ground harder than anticipated, sending a jolt though his body and aggravating his nearly healed ribs.
“Let her go,” he growled, giving Crockett a chance to yield before he went about disarming the man. The other man’s head whipped around so quickly, his grip tightening on the gun as he tried to hold it steady. “Crockett,” he started, hand moving to grasp a batarang as he spoke. “You have failed this city.”
Wait, no. That didn’t feel right; Did that just come out of his mouth?
“You could have did so much good for this city, but instead, you followed the wrong path. Let her go, and maybe we can chat. Perhaps I might even talk to Commissioner Gordon about taking some time off your sentence.” He could almost feel the agitation in the other man rise. Before anything dramatic happened, Bruce flicked his wrist, sending a batarang flying through the air. For a moment, it felt like everything was in slow motion as the light reflected off the metal, the sharp edge skimming the surface of his hand, causing Crockett to drop his gun before clutching his bleeding hand. “Or maybe we’ll add on a few years for attempted murder,” He commented with a whisper of a smile, his voice full of mirth as he closed the distance, kicking the gun further from the man before restraining him.
“Are you alright?” Bruce turned to the restrained woman, his eyes growing wide when he saw who it was. “Oh. It’s you.” His words were nonchalant as he bent over to retrieve the previously thrown weapon. “I could cut you loose and release you, or I could leave you here and let CCPD finally take you in. What say you, Catwoman?”
