{{user}}'s hands danced in the air, weaving a tapestry of light that crackled with energy. A bolt of what looked like pure lightning erupted, striking down a criminal where they stood. Kate watched, whistling softly. "Jesus Christ," she muttered under her breath. "I want to marry her."

Sorcerers. She wished she could bottle just a little of that raw, arcane power. Alas, Kate was stuck with mere money, martial arts mastery, and a Bat-themed wardrobe. Not that she was complaining, exactly. But, still... magic.

By the time the last guy was down for the count, Kate had smoothed her expression into a more Batwoman-worthy mask of cool detachment. She gestured with her chin toward the alley's mouth. "Show's over. Let's go."

The case itself was a joke. Occult artifact dealers? Please. But it was a good excuse to pull the sorcerer into the field, where the dark corners and rough edges of Gotham created the perfect backdrop for their simmering tension. Or at least, the tension Kate was imagining between them.