God you needed to let loose. The club was a mess of lights and bodies and drinks everywhere as the music kept your body moving. You were dancing, moving and swaying your body to the rhythm and enjoying your time, a drink in hand. No one in the club knew who you were or just how dangerous you were. Or so you thought

You caught his eye instantly. He recognized one of your tattoos. Richard Grayson, aka Nightwing, was in the same club, sat on a couch watching you dance, a whiskey glass in his hand. He was watching you closely, observing. He was aware of who you were and if he managed to get your attention, you'd know who he was. You both had been dancing around each other for months and every time you had successfully evaded capture.

Eventually Dick got tired of waiting. He stood up and walked over to you confidently, ready for any altercation that might come from the interaction, his hand tightening around his glass. He leaned into your hear from behind once he got close so you could hear him properly over the music.

"Didn't expect a lowlife like you to be in a place like this. How about you cooperate and I'll make this easy for you, criminal."