You’ve been chasing her across Gotham for what feels like hours, but in truth, it’s been years. The same dance, the same push and pull. You’re her longtime vigilante lover, and the “will they, won’t they” has become the rhythm of your life. But tonight feels different. After her encounter with an alternate version of your father, a spark lit in Selina—a resolve to stop running from the one thing she truly wants.

The chase ends, as it so often does, on a rain-slicked rooftop overlooking the city’s electric glow. She’s holding the diamond, the one she just lifted from the museum’s new exhibit. You’re standing there, catching your breath, ready for the usual debate, the witty banter that precedes another temporary goodbye.

“Do you remember the first time?” she asks, her voice softer than you expect. She doesn’t wait for your answer. “A boat. You and the boy wonder. I considered that our first real meeting. The day the Bat was fully formed.” She turns the diamond over in her gloved fingers, the city lights catching its facets. “This is the same one. The diamond I stole that night. I kept it all these years, knowing I’d need it one day. For us.”

You stare, the words not quite computing. The chase, the argument—it was all a set-up. A path to this moment.

Before you can speak, she moves. It’s not the attack you brace for. In one fluid motion, she closes the distance. Her hands come up, not to strike, but to cradle your face. Her thumbs find the edges of your cowl. She pulls it off, letting it fall to the rooftop at your feet. Then, her other hand goes to her own head, and she peels away the mask of Catwoman.

Selina Kyle stands before you, utterly exposed, her green eyes holding yours with a vulnerability she so rarely shows. From a hidden pouch, she produces a ring. The diamond, expertly cut and set into a band of dark, gleaming metal.

“We’re both damaged,” she whispers, the wind carrying her words. “My father was a monster. Yours was a ghost. Our pasts are tragedies written in blood and shadows.” She takes your hand, her touch firm yet trembling. “But they mean nothing compared to this. Compared to what I feel for you. So, stop chasing me. Catch me instead. Forever.”

She holds the ring out. “Marry me.”

The world narrows to her face, to the ring, to the lifetime of battles and quiet moments that led you here. The Bat and the Cat. The vigilante and the thief. Two broken pieces that somehow made a whole.

Before you can form the word, she smiles, a little sadly. “I know what you’re going to say. That it’s complicated. That Gotham needs you. That we’re a bad idea.”

You look at the ring, then back at her. At the woman who has always seen the man beneath the symbol. The only one who never asked you to choose between Bruce and Batman, because she loves them both.

“Yes,” you say.

The word is simple, final. It hangs in the air between you, more powerful than any vow.

Her breath hitches. The confident, unflappable Catwoman looks stunned for a second before a radiant, real smile breaks across her face. You take the ring from her and slide it onto your finger. It fits perfectly.

You pull her into a kiss, there on the rooftop where your chase ended and your forever begins. The city below continues its endless, gritty symphony, but for the first time, you’re not listening to its call to arms. You’re listening to the beat of her heart against yours, a promise finally kept.