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Eddie forced a smile as he tipped the valet. As confident as he was in a coming payday, frivolous spending before he'd actually completed the job always left him anxious.
But Edward Nygma was nothing if not resourceful. And he was committed. Getting back into the game of the Gotham criminal underworld was never going to be simple or easy - if The Riddler wanted to make money, he'd have to spend some.
As he watched the valet drive off with his car, he turned to face his target.
The Gotham Museum of Antiquities, lifted above the street side by a grand incline of steps. Its name was carved into pale stone slabs supported by a row of mighty pillars. It was one of the city's most beloved landmarks. And sometime very soon, The Riddler was going to rob the place.
Not that he was going to keep the loot or sell it off the black market or anything similarly barbaric - there were many priceless items resting within those walls. So priceless that the city would give anything to get them back - no ransom would be too small for pieces of Gotham history.
But first, Eddie needed to case the joint.
He adjusted his tie, straightened his coat, and started up the steps. Delving deeper into a forest of high society Gothamites. Blue bloods, nouveau rich, local celebrities, and no doubt a spattering of genuine curators and conservators. All here to mingle and network. Eddie fought back a wince. He pushed through, navigating the crowd until he was indoors.Ā
The air was nice and settled now, no cool breeze making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Eddie moved slow and casual, but kept his eyes sharp. He looked around and began to take notes.
Normally, he'd have somebody else do this sort of legwork - back when he had henchmen and enough funds to pay them. But now, back on the street as a free man, Eddie was working with considerably less. Which meant, for this job, he'd have to do the prep work himself.
That was the price if he wanted to get back into the game. And he needed to get back into the game. Not just for the money, but for simple pride. While Eddie's jaw had completely healed, he still felt the ghost of an ache every so often. A little parting gift from Gotham's Dark Knight. But it wasn't just a rematch with the Caped Crusader that motivated him so. The simple fact of it was, Gotham's new generation of criminals were terrible. Just complete and utter buffoons. They were nothing but fodder for the Batman, offering not a shred of challenge. It almost made Eddie sick.
A hand clapping upon his shoulder shook Eddie from his thoughts. Very nearly jumping right out of his oxfords, Eddie turned to see none other than James Harmon, the museum director. An older gentleman, with neatly combed graying hair and dark-rimmed glasses set over narrow but spirited eyes. He was grinning, quite pleased to see Eddie. It made sense - he was the man who invited him.
"Mr. Nygma!" Mr. Harmon greeted. "A pleasant surprise. I feared you were going to ignore my invitation again."
Eddie had done so many times - once word got out of his early release, his email had been full of inquiries both professional and personal. Invitations for televised interviews, to be a guest on this show or that event - all those sorts of vapid, nonsense things an intellectual like The Riddler would normally ignore. But once Eddie decided the Riddler would face the Batman again, an invitation into Gotham's largest museum was suddenly much more alluring.
"I figured it was time to get out of the house. See the sights. Get myself a taste of that freedom." Eddie forced another smile. It was an effort not to roll his eyes. Though he wasn't entirely dishonest. His current headquarters was a cheap apartment situated on the far side of the Gotham river. Eddie didn't need much of an excuse to spend some time away.
"Indeed. Well, I'm glad you thought of us here at the Museum of Antiquities. I hope you don't find the Gotham Supervillain display too tacky. We made sure to present only the cold hard facts, as little bias as possible. I'm sure we sent you emailsā¦"
Eddie waved the director's concerns off. It was clear what he meant - the museums' supervillain displays included damn near every rogue criminal the Batman had ever facedā¦ including the manner of their eventual defeat. The Riddler was no doubt among them, accompanied by that famous image of Eddie Nygma getting slugged by the Batman's mighty fist. A very popular image it would end up becoming, memed to oblivion and back, to the point where Eddie couldn't escape it. Not even in his prison cell.
"I'm sure it's fine." Eddie lied, forcing himself to relax. "It's been years. Everyone knows how that business went down. Batman meets The Riddler. Batman fights The Riddler. The Riddler goes to prison with a broken jaw."
Mr. Harmon offered a faint but sympathetic smile.
"That's not the end of the story." He added. "The Riddler reforms. The Riddler mingles, networks. And now he's ready to rejoin Gotham as one of her more colorful figures!"
That drew from Eddie a small but mirthless laugh.
"Right, right. I'm a good boy now."
"And a local celebrity." Mr. Harmon reminded him. "Be glad you came, Mr. Nygma. There are many connections to be made with this sort of crowd."
The older gentleman wasn't wrong. But the connections he was talking about didn't appeal to Eddie. And more likely than not, they were of no use to The Riddler. After allā¦ he wasn't here to make friends.
Eddie returned the man's smile - and not quite as insincerely as he thought.
"I don't doubt that one bit, Mr. Harmon."
Seemingly satisfied, the older man clapped him on the shoulder one last time and went back to his mingling. Leaving Eddie to continue his prep work. His eyes quickly returned to the routine, scanning the walls, the ceiling, the corners. He was looking for cameras. He was looking for weaknesses. Gaps in security. Faults that he could exploit. The more he learned, the better he could plan. And if there was any supervillain who could make a damn good plan, it was The Riddler.
But as his keen gaze swept through the interior of the museum, Eddie caught sight of a striking figure.
A sensual shape, garbed in deep black. A slinky dress, flowing down to a pair of dark, open toe stiletto heels. A split through the fabric, revealing legs all the way to full, creamy thighs. She moved with effortless grace and calm confidence - exuding elegance and allure in equal measure.
A woman no man could ever forget. Not even a focused genius like Eddie.
Selina Kyle.Ā
The Catwoman.
-Ā -Ā -
Selina felt eyes upon her. Which meant her "tactically backless" dress was doing its job perfectly.
For most thieves, the rule was to go unnoticed. But for Selina, she found that she could accomplish her goals just as easily while drawing attention. Much attention. It was simple really - they were admiring her body. And that meant they weren't paying attention. Not to what she was really doing.
Selina smiled to herself as she glided through an ocean of stuffed suits. While horny rich guys were ogling her legs or drinking in the exposed curve of her back, she was gathering intel on the museum interior. Weaknesses, exploits, anything and everything. Selina had been in the game for years, so this sort of thing had become second nature. All the info she could ever need - all she had to do was look.
But thenā¦ she got that feeling, a buzz that crept up her spine. Selina had learned long ago to trust her gut. Someone was approaching.
Immediately, Selina grew tense. She bit her tongue, ready to force a smile - if only to hide her contempt. Too often these rich jackasses had it in their head that they owned everything in the room, whichever room they happened to be in. Selina heard footsteps drawing closer, closer, closer. She closed her eyes - she really didn't want to have to break some guy's wrist again.
The guy - it had to be a guy - was almost upon her now. Selina turned, dreading the incoming pick-up lineā¦ and blinked as she was met with a familiar face.
"Eddie?" Selina's brow pinched as she narrowed her eyes. It was him alright. Same pale face, same dark red hair, same blithe look in his eyes. Eddie Nygma. The Riddler.
And he was wearing a tuxedo.
Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, looking surprised that she had noticed him approaching. But the shock faded quickly from his face, replaced with what Selina could only assume was professional admiration.
"You haven't lost your edge." He said, impressed.
Selina pursed her lips proudly.
"A professional should always keep herself sharp. How long have you been out?" Selina remembered the night she found out The Riddler had been arrested. The weeks-long duel of wits between him and the Batman ended with a showdown at City Hall where Nygma and his hired guns had taken several members of the city government hostage. A broken jaw later, and The Riddler was taken away in cuffs. Last Selina had heard, Eddie had been convicted and sentenced to ten years in Blackgate. Clearly, that didn't pan out.
"Thirteen months." Eddie answered.
Selina was stunned. One of Gotham's supervillains was back on the streets and she didn't know about it until he was standing right in front of her. Sloppy.
"Early release, huh?" Selina assumed. She was rewarded with a nod from the slender redhead. She had to give it to the man, he survived his time in prison well enough. Last she saw him, he was a scrawny fellow. Looking at his figure now, he was no clearly no Batman. He wasn't even a Nightwing. But Selina had to admitā¦ he wore his tuxedo well enough. "Soā¦ are you here to enjoy your new freedom or did you just get tired of good behavior?"
"I came here to consider my options." Eddie's answer was simple, almost curt. He made a face, as if weighing his next words. In fact, Selina could see that he was quite tense. Almost like he wasā¦ on a job. "Listenā¦ I don't want this to get complicated. If two people are marking the same-"
"Oh, relax." Selina took some liberty and snaked her arm around Eddie's. "I'm only here for one thing. The Obsidian Claw."
"Of course. You're really leaning into the cat theme these days." Selina could hear the man roll his eyes.Ā
"I always have, Eddie." So she appreciated the thematic connection. Sue her.
She led them on a slow walk through the party. They passed antique displays and envious stuffed suits alike. Before long, her prize was in view. They could both see it on display at the far end of the hall, situated safely in a large glass case.
A marvel of craftsmanship. It was exactly what it claimed to be, a jaguar's paw painstakingly carved from obsidian, the extended claws set with brilliant rubies. And at the center, the largest ruby of them all. Hundreds of years old, discovered in the wildest depths of the Peruvian Amazon. For the dinosaurs on the museum board, it might have been just one of their many relics. But for Selina, it was a treasure.Ā
She wanted it. God, she wanted it.
"If things go smoothly, no one will even know it's been switched." She whispered to him, still holding to his arm. "There'll be no fuss for you to deal with. So you can go back to casing for yourself. Let's just agree to stay out of each other's business."
"And if you get caught?"
It was Selina's turn to roll her eyes. A confident smirk played upon her lips. A look that she knew for sure sent his heart rate spiking.
"I never get caught. Unless I want to."
Selina let her hand slip away from Eddie's arm. Firmer than she expected.Ā
She gave her fellow villain a final look before slipping back into the crowd, leaving the man with a wink and smile. But as she felt the eyes of many admirers descend upon her again, she couldn't help but feel satisfaction at the flash of interest in Eddie's eyes. That sort of power always came in handy. And she couldn't deny the fun of it.Ā
Teasing men never got old. But it was time to get back to work.
-Ā -Ā -
Against his better judgment, Eddie stayed a while longer. It was the free champagne that kept him there, nor was it the hors d'oeuvres - even if both were miles better than anything waiting for him back at his headquarters. In the end, it was simple pragmatism - as long as Eddie was there, he might as well get a feel for the museum interior. Schematics and building plans were one thing, but actual first hand experiences were always better.
But just as his luck would have it, the alarm sounded.
Loud and blaring, obnoxiously high-pitched and disorienting, all by design to ruin any would-be burglar's night.
Damn it, Catā¦
Eddie swallowed his frustrations, gritting his teeth as the gathering of pricks and snobs bustled around him in panic. Over the blaring siren, some women even began to scream. It wasn't long before the security staff were ushering the guests outside, herding them like cattle. All the while, Director Harmon was desperately trying to placate the masses, insisting that it was all a mistake, a terrible false alarm.
None of it was any consolation for Eddie. Even if he gathered some useful intel, no one liked having their evening cut short. And this little episode would no doubt result in tighter security.
Just my damn luck.
Soon enough, Eddie was back outside, welcomed by the bitter evening chill. Rather than wait for the valet to bring his car, he tried pressuring them to just hand him his keys so he could get it himself. It took stuffing his remaining bills into the kid's hand to seal the deal.
Muttering the curses the whole way, he reached his car - by the time he got there, he could hear police sirens in the distance. Slamming the door shut and gripping the wheel, he started his long drive home. But then, just as he was pulling out onto the street, he saw her.
Selina. Catwoman. In full get-up. For a moment, all frustrations fell away. How could a man, any man, be angry watching her work? Especially when she dressed like that.
He watched through the car window, captivated by the way she moved, so fluid, so graceful, sprinting across the narrow ledge high up on the museum's third floor. Thenā¦ she jumped! Leaped through the air, catching a flagpole on the way down. Now she was swinging, effortless, showing a mastery of gymnastics that olympians would kill to possess.
It all took but a moment. Catwoman was back on the ground. Back on her feet. Fleeing the scene of the crime.
Just around the corner, Eddie could see flashes of light, red and blue swirling together. As good as Selina was, she would never get away on foot.
It was then that Eddie had a debate, a battle of conflicting thoughts at the center of his mind. The matter was settled in all of two seconds.
He rolled down his window, poked his head out.
"Hey, Cat." He called out. "Need a lift?"
Selina's eyes jumped up, meeting his. Hers were deep green, bright and intense. He saw as she cycled through a series of emotions. Shock, confusion, before finally settling on relief. He'd take it.
It was a bad idea, he knew that. Women were generally a distraction and the last thing he needed was to be unfocused if he was going to rebuild The Riddler's bad name. But a man of his intellect could never ignore the truth. Especially when it was so clear to see. Selina looked good. She always looked good.
A smile cracked across her face. She darted towards his car, wrenched the rear door open, and dove into the back seat.
Eddie's hands tightened on the steering wheel. She'd gotten in and closed the door just as the cop cars came around the corner. They raced by without stopping and suddenly Eddie could breathe again.
He heard a giddy laugh bubble up behind him. In his rearview, he saw Selina poke her head up. She met his eyes through the mirror - green orbs glittering with life and nerve.
"My hero." She purred. Then her voice dropped, low and urgent. "Drive."
"I am." Eddie said, annoyance creeping in. "But speeding will attract attention. It's better to take it slow. Less conspicuous. So relax."
He saw the woman roll her eyes but she didn't argue. And to his surprise, the woman obeyed. With a huff, she laid back down in his back seat. Leaving Eddie to continue with the escape. He drove on down the road, leaving downtown and all those cop cars in his rearview mirror. Before long, the flashing lights and sirens faded, leaving them with nothing but the common bustle of Gotham nightlife. Eddie's grip finally loosened. He sank back into his seat with a sigh.
Aside from the alarm, it was as clean as getaways got. But from the curse he heard snap from the back seat, Eddie knew Selina didn't feel the same.
They came to a red light. Eddie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Soā¦"
"Security was more sophisticated than I expected." Selina's voice was hard, bitter. She was not pleased. "Nothing like the schematics at all. So my contact either gave me outdated intel on accidentā¦ or he screwed me over."
Eddie shook his head.
"Probably the former. These next generation crooks don't hold a candle to the older guys."
"You think I'm old?" Selina's tone was even, her face inscrutable. Green eyes set upon him through the mirror.
Eddie winced.
"You know what I mean." He turned his eyes on the road as the light turned green. "None of them are as good as Gotham criminals used to be. No imagination. No brains. No ambition."
"You've got some opinions, I take it?" Humor had seeped into her voice now. Enough for Eddie to relax.
"I've got a few."
"Well you can tell me all about them once we're in the clear. We need to lay low. Your place." Selina insisted. Though the easy confidence in her voice made Eddie feel like he really didn't have a choice.
"Mine?" He asked, trying not to sound too insulted.
"The museum almost got burglarized." Selina reminded him with a wry look. She pointed to herself. "Who do you think their prime suspect is?"
"Right. My place."
Eddie gave a nod. He turned the corner, starting on the route back home. Fighting back a wince, he gripped the wheel again, doing his best to focus on the road.Ā
But every so often, his eyes would wanderā¦ flicking to his rear view mirror and that lovely, alluring figure sitting in the back seat. She was a distraction, no doubt. But such a beautiful distraction, wrapped so snug in black, shiny leather.
He tried to relaxā¦ only to be confronted with a sobering realization: Catwoman would be seeing his headquarters very, very soon.