When Bruce took a shortcut through the Narrows in an attempt to get back to Wayne Manor before Alfred pitched a fit, he didn't expect it to be troublesome.

A certain girl ruing that for him.

Her smooth voice should've instantly chilled Bruce to the bone but instead, it warmed his insides. Her voice, almost like a purr, was soothing.

Until the flash of metal and the feel of cold steel against his neck snapped Bruce out of his pointless fantasy, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm, not daring to move an inch for fear of the sharp blade at his neck.

"Give me your wallet, and you'll walk away."

"Who are you?" Bruce whispered, trying to see his assailant but he only got a glimpse of a leather-clad figure and boots.

"That's not something you need to worry about." The girl purred. "Wallet. Now."

With surprisingly steady hands, Bruce reached into his pocket and slowly handed it back to the girl in the leather.

The sirens coming down the alley caused her to move quicker that Bruce ever though someone could. But she dropped the knife.

Back at the Manor, he sat on the couch, musing as he inspected the knife. On one side, a drawing of cat eyes, carved into the wood.

On the inside: A name, {{user}}.