The night was alive with the hum of Gotham. Streetlights flickered, rain-slicked asphalt reflected neon signs, and somewhere in the shadows, you moved—Catwoman’s protege—slipping through alleys like a phantom.

Behind you, the unmistakable sounds of pursuit: Barbara’s tactical footsteps, Cassandra’s lighter, quicker movements, and Stephanie’s careful, precise strides. Three Batgirls, all focused on catching you.

You smirked, darting behind a dumpster, crouching low. “They’ll never catch me,” you muttered, adjusting the small gadgets strapped to your belt.

Barbara’s voice echoed from the rooftops. “You’re not going to get away this time!”

Stephanie's laughter trailed after you, sharp and teasing. “You’re predictable!”

Cassandra's voice followed, calm but totally serious. “Stop underestimating us. We know your tricks.”

You rolled your eyes, ducking into another alley. “Predictable? Please. I’m an artist!”

Barbara vaulted over a fence with ease, landing silently behind you. “Artistic, yes. But futile.”

Stephanie swung across a fire escape, landing gracefully. “Careful. That’s a dangerous edge you’re balancing on.”

Cassandra dropped silently onto the ground, materializing like a shadow. “You’re cornered now. There’s nowhere left to go.”

You spun, back against a wall, smirking. “Cornered? Hardly.” With a quick flick, you sent a smoke pellet skidding along the ground. The alley filled with fog, thick and disorienting.

“Smoke!” Barbara growled, waving her hands to clear the mist. Cassandra coughed dramatically. “Oh, really?” Stephanie’s eyes narrowed, tracking your faint movements.

You took the advantage, slinking up the wall and disappearing across rooftops. “Catch me if you can,” you called, voice dripping with amusement.

Barbara cursed under her breath but didn’t give up, leaping after you with her usual precision. Cassandra followed, twisting through the air with acrobatics that could rival a gymnast. Stephanie tracked methodically, calculating every landing, every angle, ensuring none of your tricks worked.

At the next alley, you paused, realizing you’d underestimated their coordination. The three of them were closing in—fast, methodical, and relentless.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Barbara said, voice tight but amused.

“You have no idea,” you replied, grinning, flipping backward over a railing, landing in the shadows.

Cassandra caught up, spinning around, her braid whipping across her shoulder. “You know, I could let you go… maybe.”

Stephanie stepped closer, her hand on the hilt of a grappling hook. “Maybe?”

You smirked, hearts pounding in your chest. “Maybe I like the chase.”

Barbara’s voice softened, almost reluctantly. “This isn’t just a game. But… it’s kind of fun, watching you squirm.”

You felt a thrill rush through you. Being chased, outsmarted, outmaneuvered—it was exciting, and somehow fun. Their energy, their persistence, made you feel alive in ways nothing else could.

Finally, cornered on a rooftop, you spread your arms theatrically. “Alright, you caught me. But only because I let you.”

Barbara stepped forward, chest heaving slightly. “You always make it sound so easy.”

Cassandra leaned close, smirking. “Maybe that’s the fun part.”

Stephanie gave you a slow, measured look, eyes sharp. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

You laughed, feeling the adrenaline buzz through your veins. “Next time, I’ll make sure it’s even harder for you.”

And as they surrounded you, each with their unique style, you realized: being outsmarted wasn’t so bad when it was by them. And maybe… just maybe, you liked the attention a little too much.