One was dark gray, moving with ruthless precision, his cape whipping through the narrow alley like a flag.
The other was black, slender and agile, darting between dumpsters and fire escapes like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She clutched a bulging leather bag.
Catwoman.
She moved like black lightning across the night sky. With a light push off the slick fire-escape railing, she flipped onto the edge of the roof. She was about to slide down a drainpipe on the other side when something came hurtling through the air behind her.
Batman's claw caught her ankle with perfect precision.
Catwoman twisted at the waist in midair and swung her other leg toward his face. Batman tilted his head aside, and at the same instant, his free hand shot out and caught her kicking ankle.
With both ankles caught, Catwoman lost her footing and fell. Batman pulled her toward him, turned half a rotation in the air to absorb the impact, then pinned her against a ventilation duct at the roof's edge.
Catwoman's back pressed against the cold metal. Batman held both her wrists in one hand, raising them above her head and pressing them to the duct.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her black Bodysuit gleamed faintly in the moonlight, and her cat-eared cowl had slipped to one side, exposing a short lock of dark brown hair.
"Let me go, you Bad Bat." There was laughter in her voice, not a trace of panic at being caught. She sounded as though she were greeting an old friend.
Batman ignored her protest. He took a pair of specialized handcuffs from his belt and snapped them around Catwoman's wrists, fastening them to a bracket on the ventilation duct. He was precise: tight enough that she could not escape,