Notes: Please read my story "Strays" before you read this… and also "Of the Rest of Your Life", "Lost and Found", "Visited" and "Status Quo".
I give you this advice for three reasons – a) "DE" makes sense all on its own, mostly, but there are some whopping big spoilers for those other stories, b) I think reading things in order is right and good, and c) I am happy to take this chance to shamelessly pimp out my other fics.
Whichever way you choose, enjoy. :)
With the exception of the very first, all of the chapter-header quote things are from Proverbs, beginning with 7:9.
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Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things.
The honest thief, the tender murderer,
The superstitious atheist.
Robert Browning
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…in the twilight, in the evening,
in the black and dark night.
And, behold, there met him a woman
with the attire of a harlot, and subtle of heart.
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The first time he sees her, it's an anticlimax.
He's a full city block away, standing on the ledge that runs around the twentieth story of a distinguished old building, listening to the police band and prioritizing. There's no particular reason for him to be in this neighborhood – just the opposite, in fact; it looked like a quiet spot to stand and listen. A quiet spot to figure out where he's going next.
But his eyes keep scanning the city around him, out of habit and good sense. And he looks the right way at the right time, with his starlight lenses on, and he sees her.
At least, he sees someone. Someone with no business being on a roof in the middle of the night, someone dressed in dark colors with something slung over one shoulder. The distance and the darkness combine to obscure any real details. He isn't even certain it's a woman until she turns and he sees her figure in profile.
Up until this point, she existed only as a voice on an answering machine and the handwriting on a half-mocking card. He still has the recording he made of that voice, and he still has the card, in case he ever needs it for comparison. He has a list of police files that he suspects are examples of her work.
Now he has a visual to add to those tokens.
She doesn't see him, or else she chooses to ignore him, because she moves unselfconsciously on her path and vanishes from the roof within the next few moments.
By the time he reaches the spot where she was, less than half a minute later, there's no sign of her and the trail is already cold. She's a professional; she doesn't leave any evidence.
Four hours later, when the police report is filed, he learns what she was doing in that neighborhood: Stealing a Cezanne worth an estimated quarter of a million dollars from a poorly-secured law office.
He hates that he was so close and didn't prevent the crime, or recover the stolen painting, or confront her and determine whether or not she knows she pulled Superman's son out of that League of Shadows den.
That last question is very important. It'll have a considerable impact on how he handles her.
He tells himself that next time will be different.
It is.
But not the way he expects.