Gotham was a menacing place after dark: mobsters and supervillains alike prowled the streets. The only way to stay safe was to be one of these elites—or to be their sole predator, the Batman. All the same, Jonathan Crane never felt unsafe while outside. He as armed to the teeth despite his unassuming appearance, all lanky limbs and little else to compensate for it. Granted, the scythe he carried over his shoulder down the empty alleyways gave him a reaper-like aura but he was hardly threatening otherwise.

Pity the fool who thought they could overpower him: they would be dead of fright before sunlight was even a suggestion on the horizon.

A shadow flitted across the moon, causing the wild-haired former professor to pause in his stride, eyes narrowing as he followed the figure's movements across the rooftops, glasses gleaming when they caught the light. No cape, so it wasn't a crusader come to take him from the city streets once again. Probably just another criminal, out and about in the dark committing nefarious deeds.

And speaking of, Jonathan had some work to do.

The Narrows were the Scarecrow's favorite place to obtain his newest test subjects: more active at night, filled to bursting with the scum of humanity who wouldn't be missed if they never went back to work and nearly everyone who lived within had accepted the very real possibility that they could be killed at any time for any arbitrary reason. Truly, the perfect hunting grounds.

Hazel eyes scanned the wide road and tiny, empty park from the shadow of the nearest apartment complex, flitting over the locals and evaluating them.

Male, mid thirties, drunkard. Likely living with depressive tendencies or turbulent marriage. Intoxication could impact effectiveness of the Toxin. Track this one for later.

Female, early twenties, college student, involved with a drug racket. Likely blackmailed. Intriguing but also risky as she attends university and likely has friends who will notice and care, drawing attention to my activities.

Male, sixties, dying of cancer. No point in ending his life prematurely—he couldn't stand the stress fear and would be useless in obtaining data.

Someone to his left wolf whistled, drawing Jonathan out of his observational state. The offender was a man in his late twenties or early thirties standing outside one of the countless sinful venues on the street (a bar with brilliant neon lettering which likely had no difference from the strip club a few doors down aside from title). The target of the man's advances was a lovely woman—one that Jonathan recognized. They had passed too many times in Arkham's halls for him not to recognize those piercing eyes and shapely features.

Selina Kyle ignored the men catcalling her as she glided across the filthy streets, moving like a queen without a care in the world. Her silent watcher knew better: her eyes constantly roved, seeking something with an intent that was out of place here—there was nothing worth stealing. When she made it to the sad excuse for a playscape with two leafless trees making up the "park", she stopped at the base of the towering plants and glanced up, a pouting frown forming on her lips. The master of fear followed her gaze and noticed for the first time a small cat nestled in the wiry branches, a little ribbon around its neck.

The lithe woman was attempting to coax the feline down from its perch, speaking to it though not loud enough for Jonathan to hear on the opposite side of the street. The animal did not seem at all inclined to listen as it yawned in clear disdain for its owner and looked elsewhere. It was almost funny, actually; here he was, witnessing one of the most feared and hunted criminals in the city bargaining with a stubborn cat. No longer interested in observing the masses, the lanky man slid his scythe off his shoulder and tucked it out of sight, nimbly crossing through the traffic to loom behind Catwoman's comparatively tiny frame.

"Good evening, ms Kyle," he said simply, noting that while she hadn't flinched at his words she did shift her stance to lean herself away from his body.

"You as well, Dr. Crane," she purred in response. "Come to do a bit of fishing?"

"Your situation caught my attention more than any of these simpletons—it is unlike you to lose your handle over your pets like this."

"Milo is my newest little friend. He might appreciate the roof over his head when it's raining, but he has yet to adopt my apartment as home or accept me as his new mama."

Her phrasing amused Jonathan a bit. Try as she might to hide it, he heard the frustration in her voice at how the cat refused to pay any attention to her. How adorable.

"Animals are such troublesome things at times," remarked coolly. "Why haven't you gone to fetch it yourself yet? You are perfectly capable."

"Oh, pardon me sir, but a lady does not climb trees when dressed in a skirt and heels," Selina resorted, resting her hand on her hip and shifting her weight onto that leg into a seductive and alluring pose. The wiry psychologist looked her over apathetically then glanced back at the orange tabby in the tree. Without another word, he stripped off his coat—after pulling something from the pocket—and strode to the trunk. Like an overlarge spider, Jonathan ascended until he was within reach of the small feline, which twisted to watch him warily.

Stretching out his hand, Jonathan showed the cat the strip of meat he kept on hand for the raven that had begun living among his crows. The animal's ears pricked up in interest but it didn't approach right away. After a patient minute of waiting, the master of fear was rewarded by the cat creeping closer to sniff at the offering of food. When it tentatively took it, his outstretched hand was in the perfect position to take hold of the cat's scruff, lifting it off the branch where it perched and bringing it to his chest to cradle it as he descended back down the tree. The second his feet touched the ground, he held the young feline out to its owner.

"Hello again, Milo," Selina greeted it as she took it and held it at arms length. "It was very naughty of you to run away from your mama, my beautiful boy. You're lucky that the big bad scarecrow was willing to get you down again or you'd be stuck all night."

"A gentleman never leaves a lady with a problem on her hands," was the flat reply. "No matter the state of affairs between them."

"Aww, are you still sore about the clawing I gave you in Arkham?" the dark-haried woman cooed.

"Considering that I knew nothing of your relationship with Wayne's son, I think a mere verbal warning would have been sufficient. The spot is still tender to the touch."

"Well, you did help my little baby," she mused. "Perhaps I ought to reward you for such gentlemanly behavior. That is the proper action required of any lady of class, is it not?"

Not waiting for an answer, Catwoman stood on her toes and left a quick peck on Jonathan's cheek, her scarlet lipstick leaving a faint smudge. Then, just as swiftly, she whisked away, jogging down the street and ignoring the drunk men who called out asking for similar treatment. The lanky brunette stayed frozen where he stood, watching her go with slight confusion.

Selina Kyle was a flighty woman, he knew, and flirted with almost anyone who fell into her wide range of interest. He, however, had never been included in that circle, instead always being prodded at or ignored. Her deliberate teasing was a tad bit out of character for their relationship, which made the former professor wonder if she was attempting to play mind games with him—and if she was, then what ends was she playing at.

Almost unconsciously, Jonathan raised a hand to trace his thin fingers over the spot she had marked. No one had ever kissed him before—not even when Sherry Squires had pretended to like him in High School. He couldn't deny he liked the gesture, even if it were an empty one; it filled some sort of hollow spot in his chest with a small, fluttering sensation of happiness, of contentment. The glow faded, however, as he turned his thoughts back to his work. If he was going to get any sleep tonight, he needed to find a victim within the hour.

Selina Kyle was not his concern.

Hello readers and welcome to the new fic! Different genre than I'm used to—never done one based off a comic series before.

It's a funny story how I was inspired to write this out: I was watching a livestream from one of my favorite artists (known as Alomoria on DeviantArt) and the chat got a little out of hand. It was suggested (as a big "what if?" scenario) that perhaps Jonathan Crane and Selina Kyle could get together and have a relationship. It quickly got out of hand as the chat came up with scenarios that would happen between the two that quickly got y gears turning. After taking almost 30 screenshots of the chat ideas, I decided I wanted to write them out and we could all squee at the cuteness together.

The format for how I'm going to write this out is still very up in the air, though. The original plan was for all of the ideas to be their own one-shot chapter without any real chronology but as I was writing this first chapter I realized I wanted to write this as how their relationship would develop. Either way had its benefits and drawbacks so please let me know what you think would be best! (Personally, I'm more inclined to write the latter)