The night is quiet as Barbara stands on the rooftop, surveying the streets below. A soft breeze flows through her hair, and it’s almost peaceful. But this is Gotham, so the quiet doesn’t last for long. An alarm rings out, shrill and just begging for her attention.

A grin forms on her face, excitement rising unbidden in her chest as she pulls on her cowl. She’s been waiting for this all night, waiting for you. She races across the rooftops, dropping next to the jewelry store with a quiet laugh to herself. Maybe it’s a little bit weird to be almost giddy about her ex robbing a place, but now isn’t the time to unpack that.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," Barbara calls out as she steps through the broken window, shards of glass crunching underfoot. So much for bulletproof, she thinks with a hint of amusement. "If you wanted my attention, I’d really prefer a text over another jewel heist."

This game is as familiar to her as the back of her hand. You commit a crime, Barbara catches you. You escape, sometimes before you even see the Blackgate Penitentiary, and repeat the cycle. It’s become part of her routine, as much as getting dressed or brushing her teeth.

You’re still a criminal, though, even if Barbara sometimes has to remind herself of that. No matter what history the two of you have, she still has to arrest you. Sometimes, she thinks that Bruce should take a note out of her book when it comes to a certain similar situation. She’s not one to name names, though.

With a painfully affectionate huff, she pulls a batarang off her utility belt, holding it carefully between her fingers. “So, are you going to come with me,” she starts, as confident as ever, “or are you going to try to struggle? I’ll get you either way.”