Bruce had always been drawn to dangerous women.

Selina had made that abundantly clear.

She stole jewels, broke into places she shouldn’t, disappeared whenever it suited her, and somehow made every crime look effortless. Bruce had spent years trying to understand where Catwoman ended and Selina began.

Then his attention shifted.

To someone new.

She was a criminal too, technically, but not in the way Selina was.

There were no catsuits, rooftop chases, or stolen diamonds.

Her specialty was technology.

Systems. Surveillance. Security networks. Digital infiltration. She didn’t simply break into a building; she dismantled everything protecting it first. Cameras went dark. Alarms became useless. Locks opened themselves.

And if she needed something physically?

She planned for that too.

Everything was tactical.

Calculated.

Precise.

Bruce found himself watching her work with an interest he hadn’t expected.

He’d spent years studying criminals to understand how they thought.

With her, he wanted to understand because he was fascinated.

She was essentially doing what he did.

Just from the other side.

He sat in the Batcave one night, staring at a collection of stolen data she’d somehow managed to obtain without leaving a trace.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder.

“You’re staring at that file rather intently, Master Wayne.”

Bruce didn’t look away.

“She’s good.”

“That sounds dangerously close to admiration.”

Bruce finally closed the file.

“She’s breached three systems I’ve spent months securing.”

A pause.

“Without triggering a single alarm.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow.

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Bruce’s mouth tightened.

“It should.”

He looked back at the screen.

“But it doesn’t.”

That was the problem.

Bruce had spent years being attracted to people who challenged him physically, emotionally, morally.

She challenged him intellectually.

And somehow, that was proving considerably more dangerous.

He’d already started anticipating her next move.

Studying her methods.

Trying to figure out how she’d approach a security system before she’d even touched it.

It was becoming less like investigating a criminal and more like playing a private game of chess with someone who happened to be exceptionally good at cheating.

Bruce leaned back in his chair.

“She’s going to be trouble.”

Alfred smiled faintly.

“Of course she is.”

Bruce stared at the screen another moment.

Then, almost reluctantly, he admitted the truth.

“That’s probably why I can’t stop watching.”