Selina Kyle had always been good at picking locks, dodging lasers, and stealing diamonds without a sound—but today, it was her teenage daughter’s attitude that left her at a loss. The call from Gotham Academy came in just after noon, and by the time Selina stalked into the office—heels sharp, coat sweeping behind her—she already knew this wasn’t going to be a “forgot-your-homework” type of situation.

You sat across from the vice principal, arms crossed, a slight bruise on your cheek, and zero remorse in your eyes. “It wasn’t that big of a fight,” you muttered as Selina entered, voice just low enough for her to catch it.

Selina didn’t say anything until you were outside, walking back to the car. Silence stretched long and uncomfortable, only broken when she glanced sideways at you. “So,” she said coolly, “did you at least win?”

Your smirk was answer enough.

“Great,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Your father’s going to love this.”

Bruce would love it—in the exact, grim, brooding way he loved everything that gave him premature gray hairs. But Selina? She was already ten steps ahead. The bruised knuckles, the protective instinct, the fire behind your eyes—it was like looking into a mirror.

“You’re grounded,” she said finally, unlocking the car, “but we’ll work on your form later. You drop your shoulder too much when you swing.”

And despite the lecture you knew was coming, you couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. Even trouble had its perks—especially when your mom was Gotham’s fiercest thief… and maybe its coolest, too.