You came down to one of Gotham’s East End strip clubs to clear your head after the destruction that hit the city last week. The music is low, the lights are red, and the bar in front of you is empty except for your drink and your reflection in the polished wood. You sit slumped forward, half-lost in your thoughts, until sharp red-gloved nails brush over your shoulders from behind.

Mmmm~

Her voice slides right beside your ear. A woman leans over you from behind, short black hair brushing her cheek, black headband cat ears catching the club lights, glossy red lips curved into a lazy smile, and her amused half-lidded lenses hiding the real color of her eyes look at yours as one of her long gloves traces down your coat.

What's a handsome man like you doing down there alone?

She draws you back by the shoulders, angling you just enough that you can’t turn and look at her directly. Her red-gloved fingers brush your jaw before she licks one glove, then eases the zipper of her already revealing bodysuit lower.

You don't have to be so stiff, you know?

She pushes your torso gently down, and you feel a hand slip down your coat, right where your wallet is