Thanks Agent-G, I know its a bit AU i was going to put that in my header but I'm a bit of a space case sometimes...so to new readers, like i just said its a bit AU so take that into consideration.

Disclaimer: I in no way own this original story of batman or its character, I just here to play with them XD

Prologue

My name is Selina, well that's the name I was born with anyways. So, here I stand on top of one the tallest buildings in Gotham City in a leather cat outfit, cornered by a fine-looking man in a leather bat suit. And no it's not Halloween; actually it's my night time hobby. And the bat is a party crasher, albeit a handsome and VERY appealing party crasher. I could almost lick those fulminous lips. But I have been a very naughty kitty and he means to put an end to my fun.

I have always been...difficult, even as a child I was always getting into things that I shouldn't. My parents were...ordinary, there was nothing special about them. My dad was a handyman; he went around the neighbourhood fixing things here and there earning a little cash. Then there was my mother, she worked two jobs, a cashier during the day and cleaned buildings by night. They were great people, loving and patient despite my reckless behaviour. But one night, while I was sleeping at a friend's house when I was ten, my parents were caught in the middle of a gang war and were gunned down as they tried to take cover. The cops couldn't figure out who killed them, nor did they care. We lived in the low end of the city that sort of thing happened all the time.

Unfortunately for me, I had no relatives nearby so they shipped me off to some foster home. I hated it there, I felt trapped and suffocated. These people had four other kids all around my age. But they were animal haters, something I was definitely not. I loved my animals, especially cats. I wished I could be a cat; they are so care free and independent, they do what they want when they want and they don't listen to just anybody. In the months after my parent's death, the cats in the alley behind my foster parents home were the only real family that I felt I had and they were the only things that gave me comfort.

Five months after my parents died I met my uncle for the first time. Uncle Sly, what a sweet and wonderful man. He was my father's older brother. To the rest of the world he was Doctor Sylvester Kyle, the Zoologist majoring in the study of large cats in the wild. He had returned to Gotham City from Africa just for me. When he first heard the news of his brother's death, he took the first flight he could find and flew to Gotham to get me, or that's what he had told me. But you know men; they aren't always very truthful in such matters. Anyways, he took me away from that awful family. I felt a little guilty leaving my cats though, but Uncle Sly told me that cats are survivors they always land of their feet. So I waved good bye to my cats, promised I would return one day, and was whisked off to Africa to help my uncle in his research.

He taught me a great many things, not just about those precious cats but the different cultures that surrounded us. But I also learned about the great injustices that occurred on daily basis too, not just the lion's of Africa but cats and people all around the world. After a year we left Africa had a quick stint back in the states but were quickly whisked off to another country to study other cats.

As I got older, I got angrier at the injustices that were happening to these poor defenceless cats. Men were hunting them for the pure pleasure of it. The local governments weren't doing anything about it and it seemed no matter what my uncle and I did, nothing helped. So finally I decided to take things into my own hands. The forests had become my play ground; I knew them inside and out. And the predator's who lived in the jungle left me alone; I seemed connected to it and them somehow. Especially the cats, I could walk up to any wild cat and pet them and treat them like they were a house cat. They would come up purring and would rub their faces against me. So I used these advantages and decided to hunt the hunters.

I was sixteen when I first donned a cat mask. But I did so to scare the hunters, to take advantage of their superstitions. I was young and very athletic and those hunters had no idea what hit them. After the first successful night I found myself going out again and again, until I couldn't stop. Even after we up rooted again and moved somewhere else I couldn't stop, leaving a wake of frightened and confused hunters.

A few years later, my uncle got brain cancer. The University couldn't put out enough money to pay for his medical bills and wouldn't pay for him to return, all because his contract ran out. At first I tried working in honest jobs all across northern Russia, where we had been studying the tigers. Eventually I had made enough money to get him to a big city hospital. But it seemed no matter how hard I worked it was never enough.

Then one day I was browsing through a local newspaper when I saw the most beautiful thing, a golden cat statue on display at the local Museum. At first I laughed at a notion that popped in my head. Stealing a priceless artefact, it would be impossible to steal! But then out of curiosity's sake I went to a library and tried to find the museums layout and you know what, not only did I find the floor plans but all the security information I needed, the wonders of the internet.

Only a crazy person would attempt to steal that precious golden kitty. I surely wasn't crazy but I was desperate. And many would say taking on poachers single handed was crazy too, and I had done that just fine. So after wrestling with my conscious (which really wasn't all that hard), I decided that the museum didn't need that precious kitty anymore. I told myself that all the money that I didn't use would go towards legitimate charities.

So it was I made my plans. I checked and re-checked my plans to make sure everything was perfect. I only need a few homemade tools with me to get the job done, what I needed most was my athletic abilities and my catlike flexibility.

On the night of my first heist, everything went puurrrfect maybe a little too perfect. I got my cat, fenced it for some big time cash, covered all my uncle's medical bills until he died six months later, and gave the rest to charity like I promised myself. At the time, though I didn't realize it, but that was the moment that my whole world changed I'd like to think for the better but many might tend to disagree.

That leads me now to my current situation, with a rather handsome and familiar man dressed as a bat.

This is just the beginning so, rate please I wouldn't mind knowing if i suck or not...i can take it really i can! Oh and point out my grammar errors...i'm good at noticing others but not my own...anywhoo