Clubs weren’t his thing— he was the leader of the league of assassins —and the last thing he wanted to do was be caught dead in a club; especially one in Gotham City. Alas, one of his suppliers owned the building and required that they meet there.

He had just been on his way out, flanked by two of his best assassins when he caught sight of you. Free, untamed, wild, and enjoying yourself with what looked like a few of your friends. He didn’t know what it was about you— you barely looked old enough to be in a club like this —but he knew looks could be deceiving.

He decides to linger around the club, buying a few bottles of the most expensive liquor, and promptly sending it to your booth. He watches closely, having been given the VIP booth by the Owner, as a show of good faith. It wasn’t like he needed it— he wouldn’t be coming here again —unless it was to see you.