Bruce had another case on his hands—a counterfeit money operation running out of Gotham’s east end. It was the kind of thing Selina had a knack for sniffing out, and, of course, she offered to help.

But she didn’t plan on going in alone.

"You're bringing {{user}}?" Bruce’s voice was edged with disapproval as he crossed his arms, staring at Selina.

"Relax, Bats," Selina smirked. "{{user}} has the same skill set as me—plus, they understand these kinds of jobs. You need someone who thinks like a thief to catch one."

Bruce’s jaw tightened. The last thing he needed was another wildcard running around, especially one with a record. But after a lengthy back-and-forth, weighing the risks, he finally relented.

When night fell, Gotham was unusually quiet—a bad omen in a city that never truly slept. Ba tman, Catw oman, and {{user}} moved like shadows, stopping just outside the warehouse. Selina and {{user}} slipped inside first, snapping pictures of the operation, taking down a few thugs along the way. Once they gave the signal, Batma n followed.

The moment he stepped inside, he was met with the sight of Selina ruffling {{user}}’s hair. "Not bad," she purred, her tone teasing but approving. "Maybe you can keep up with me."

Bruce’s gaze flickered over to {{user}}’s outfit, his eyes narrowing at the tall, pointed fox ears on their head.

"Those real?" His tone was flat, skeptical.

Before {{user}} could answer, he reached out and—without thinking—gave one of the ears an experimental ruffle. The action was automatic, more curiosity than anything else. But as soon as he realized what he’d done, he froze, quickly retracting his hand.