Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m trusting you, Lane. And you usually don’t do me wrong. Don’t make me regret it.”

The words echoed through Lois’ head as she stepped onto the train platform, shrugging her messenger bag strap to a more comfortable position while simultaneously tugging at her luggage. She sighed, staring at the blinking board listing times under dark bold font that read “Gotham”.

“C’mon Lo,” she grumbled to herself, winding her way through the busy station. “You’ve won a damn Pulitzer.”

Her phone chimed, her eyes immediately rolling as she read the text.

Wasn’t that for a Superman article?

Stop spying, Smallville. It’s creepy. Almost like you’re obsessed with me

But Ms. Lane, I’m just a shy ol’ farm boy.

You forgot a word in that lineup

Lo, you’ll be fine.

Lois smiled at the text, the expression faltering as she looked up at the ever-grey skies that were presented to her upon exiting the station.

I sure hope so

Hey, if you need backup, you know I’m only a call away.

The double meaning of the word didn’t get lost on Lois, shoulders inching slowly downward from where they had moved to as she hailed a cab. 

She sat back after spouting her hotel’s address to the driver, staring at the blurring cityscape. The grey skies and ancient buildings were alien to her, the opposite to sleek glass and sunny days.

It’s fine, Lois supplied helpfully to herself, it's only for two weeks…

Lois groaned, rubbing hands down her face as they continued through the city.

Eventually, the car stopped, dropping her outside a modest but definitely run down hotel. She checked in, leaning against the creaking elevator wall as it ascended. As soon as she could get the door to her room open, she set her things carefully down, propped the desk chair under the doorknob, and flopped onto the bed.

She woke up to her phone vibrating in her pocket, groggily picking up the call as she put it to her ear. “Wha.”

“News on, now.”

Lois sat up, blinking harshly as she slapped for the TV remote on the side table. She clicked it on, sighing as she watched the live coverage of another burglary.

“That’s the third this week,” Lois murmured, watching as the coverage continued to roll on puzzled-looking police.

“And the seventh this month.”

Lois cocked her head. “Let’s see where this thing turns up. My bet’s on Brazil.”

“I say Thailand.”

“Hey, quick question,” Lois started innocently, crawling off the bed as she reached for her messenger bag on the desk. She quickly fixed her hair in the mirror above it, shoulder holding up the phone. “How far would you say that museum is from my hotel?”

“You can be there in 10 minutes if you run. Left from the lobby.”

Lois smiled. “You’re a gem, Clark.”

“Bye Lois.”

She didn’t bother to say her own goodbyes, already out the door as Clark hung up the phone. Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the elevator to descend, bolting out as soon as it opened. 

Within the 10 minutes, Lois stood outside the museum.

After an additional extra minute, she was next to the now-empty case and a not-so-enthused police commissioner.

“Still no leads, Gordon?” Lois turned to the grey-haired man, watching him sigh with hands shoved in pockets. 

“Press answer is we’re working hard to find any evidence that could be procured from these scenes. Anything that connects this one to the last few.”

“Other than that they’re all pieces on loan from some of Gotham’s richest families? Y’know, this emerald brooch, that Klimt painting, the diamond earrings…should I continue?”

Gordon sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “You want the me answer, Lane?”

“Always.”

“We’re damn stumped.” The commissioner gestured to the police officers littering the room, shaking his head. “There’s nothing left. No trace of camera footage, samples of hair or blood, and no damage. It’s like the thing just up and left itself.”

Lois hummed, looking around the room herself. “Sorry to hear that, Commish. Bet you’re happy it’s just burglary and not like, murder.”

Gordon looked up at the ceiling, muttering something under his breath. “This better be off the damn record, Lane.”

Lois crossed her chest, giving the man a sharp smile.

“I’m personally glad that our big issue right now is this.” Gordon frowned, continuing on. “But those families you’re talking about? Not too happy about their priceless things being stolen, which means they’re on our asses to find ‘em.”

“Not to mention…” Gordon paused, looking around before looking back at Lois. “I’m worried about what this burglar might stir up. The rich assholes are one thing. But if they try and pick off something from one of the mob families?”

Gordon’s mustache twitched. “I don’t exactly need an all out gang war because some idiot decided to fuck with Falcone’s private collection, ya hear?”

“Loud n’ clear.” Lois held onto her bag strap, looking once more around the room before posing her question.

“So-“

“Lane, I’ll let you look around quickly. And that’s cause I trust your journalism over whatever trashy overinflated crap the Gazette wants to make this case into. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” Lois mused, quickly snapping back to it. She waved off Commissioner Gordon, turning to her own investigation.

She surveyed the room, walking around and glancing from floor to ceiling. Quickly, she understood what the officers meant—the place seemed clean. No marks, no mess, no remains.

Lois sighed, stepping back to stare at the pedestal from a distance. She frowned, already imagining how Perry would have her ass for the lack of substance.

Not my fault, she thought. Not even the police can pull something up.

Something caught her eye, drawing her out of her thoughts. 

The dome high above the room let in what sunlight could be let in, and another, stronger light had been positioned over the exhibit. Except—

“Why the hell does that look so wrong?” 

Lois stepped closer, looking at the odd shape in the light that fell to the floor, refracted through the glass. She turned to the case, fingers following where it would match up on it.

There.

Almost unseeable, a small circle of slightly thinner glass was present on the side of the case. The warp in light matched the shape of the cut, showing that—

“They put it back.”

“Lane, did you say something?” Gordon turned to her, a few cops turning their way.

“Sorry Commish, talking to myself,” Lois lied smoothly, internally wincing at the split second decision.

Sorry Gordon. I’ll tell you eventually. 

Lois straightened up, walking towards the man with her hand outstretched. “Thanks again, Gordon. You make my job easier.”

Gordon shook the hand firmly, giving her a tired smile. “Just payback. Sometimes you make mine easier too.”

Lois waved as she walked away, smiling at the start that she had on her work. She paused as she stepped on something, reaching to brush away the object. 

Her eyes widened as they locked onto a small silver trinket. It was shaped like—

Lois closed her hands around the object, stuffing it in her pocket. 

She had work to do.

Chapter Text

Lois was about 86% sure her back wasn’t supposed to make that noise at her age, but she chose to ignore it for the sake of her sanity.

Instead, she focused on the various articles pulled up on her screen—every article about Catwoman that she could find that wasn’t focusing on her and Batman. Even Gotham enjoyed some romance.

Between her fingers rolled the silver claw she had nabbed from the museum, matching it up with the ones protruding from the fingertips of the person in her photos. 

“Maybe I should become a cat burglar,” Lois mumbled, “I’m pretty good at this whole stealing thing.”

“Please, don’t do that.”

Lois smirked as a blur in her vision became a concerned man, sitting up from where she rolled on the hotel room bed. “Don’t worry, Boy Scout. You won’t have to arrest me. I prefer writing about the crime, not doing it.”

Clark huffed, sitting on the too-small-for-him desk chair. “You really think it’s her?”

Lois looked back at her computer screen as he gestured, sighing as she zoomed in on one of the images. “It’s oddly fitting, isn’t it? This wouldn’t be the first rich person she’s robbed. But then again…she’s never done it in this frequency.”

Crossing his arms, Clark frowned, looking between the silver claw and the pictured sharps. “I don’t know. She’d have to have some motivation.”

“Thanks for summarizing what our job is Clark! You’re so helpful!” 

Lois snorted as she dodged the pen that was thrown at her. “Hey, maybe you should ask your Bat boy-toy about her. All those tabloids talk about is their—and I quote—‘steamy, romantic, moonlit meetings’.”

The way Clark wrinkled his nose drew a laugh out of Lois, collapsing back onto the bed as she giggled. 

“I don’t ask B about his business. Besides, they haven’t been together in months. I doubt they’d be getting back together as she’s doing these burglaries.”

“They’re broken up?” Lois asked quickly, sitting up again with interest reignited.

“They were never…together? Officially. I-hey, stop doing that thing where you extract info from me, you know I hate it.”

Lois leaned over her document on the computer, typing ‘Batuationship’ before clicking off the tab. 

“Okay, so they’re not together. But it doesn’t sound like Big Bad Bat is too worried about these events.”

Clark shrugged. “He’s busy. There’s a lot going on with the League and some bigger cases he has. Besides—“Clark rubbed at his neck, smiling sheepishly”—it’s a bunch of grouchy rich guys that she supposedly stole from. Would that really be the top of your priority either?”

“Maybe a little when these rich guys control your damn city,” Lois muttered, looking over the stuff one more time before slamming the computer shut. “Wonder who the next victim will be. I mean—“ Lois spun to face Clark with a mystery smirk. “She hasn’t even touched Bruce Wayne yet.”

Clark tugged at his shirt’s collar, looking mildly uncomfortable. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t drop in tonight.”

“Aw, Clarkie,” Lois teased, leaning forward. “Don’t want a little cat burglar to interrupt your night of being shamelessly flirted with by a drunk Wayne and you secretly liking it?”

Clark leveled a glare at her, which made Lois just laugh. “Whatever. I’m heading back to change. See you there at 7?”

Lois nodded, waving as Clark sped off into a blur once more. 

She glanced at her computer once more, grabbing it and setting it on the desk as she began to get ready for the gala.

At 6:40, she was hailing a taxi, climbing in armed with a small clutch, a pen, and a notebook.

At 6:58, she sprinted as much as she could in heels up the steps of the event hall, diving through the sea of reporters to end up at Clark’s side.

“Sometimes, I think cutting it close is your specialty.”

Lois grinned, tapping the other’s watch as she looked forward. “Shh, people are arriving, it’s 7.”

She winked as Clark rolled his eyes, sliding the camera off his neck and handing it to her. Technically, she wasn’t even supposed to be at this event. But since Lois was in the city, and since the society beat usually involved some form of tag teaming, she had convinced both Clark and Perry it was of vital interest to her case to be around the city’s richest, covered in their most precious—read: expensive—items. 

Half of her case was true; tonight was a good time to see if the target really was just those with money, in which case Bruce Wayne, the lovably rich ditz he was, made the perfect target. And if not? Well, it would prompt a deeper dive into the families who’d been stolen from, trying to find how they all connected.

The other half was to see her darling best friend flounder under the attention of a rich man who seemed absolutely besotted with him, to the point of said rich man abandoning the idea of bringing dates to these events due to a few not-so-pretty public fights. 

And Clark was in the middle of it.

Lois enjoyed herself, every now and again.

They watched as different affluent guests walked into the building, hounded by the tabloids that weren’t going to be allowed any further in, the more credible journalists holding back as they waited for their own entrance. Soon enough, they were allowed inside, following the gaudy opulence with their own attempt at elegance: rented tuxes and reused dinner gowns. Lois snapped a picture here and there, eyes finding where Clark was grabbing quick sound bites and jotting down quotes.

Her pasted-on smile was replaced by a very real smirk as a stumbling Bruce Wayne, champagne glass in hand, approached Clark, leaning his chin on the taller man’s shoulder. Lois watched as the man refused to flinch, though his neck and ears turned three shades redder than it had been a moment ago. She shook her head fondly, turning to the table of bite sized hors d'oeuvres.

I don’t even want to know what Wayne is trying tonight.

”Quite a show he puts on at these events.”

Lois turned to the sound of the voice, not able to hide her gape as she looked at the absolutely gorgeous woman that stood to her side.

The woman smiled warmly, shifting the fur on her shoulders as she stuck out a hand towards Lois. “Selina. Kyle. Is that your friend over there that’s being terrorized by Bruce, or are you into him too?”

Glancing Selina up and down—the woman was wearing a striking pinstripe suit, fitting her like a glove—Lois took her hand, shaking it firmly. “My type isn’t rich and airheaded, even for how endearing Mr. Wayne is. But you’re right on the first half. Seems like that might be his type.”

Selina laughed, a sound that went straight through Lois’ chest, bouncing around her ribs like a ricocheting bullet. “I don’t blame him. For all he acts, he is really a kind man.” She leaned in, her breath close enough to brush over Lois’ ear. “When we were something, he donated a million dollars to the animal sanctuary of my choosing for a birthday present.”

Pulling back, Selina sighed. “Sometimes I think it’s a shame we didn’t work out. He paid attention more than you thought he would. But,” she paused, the warm smile turning more predatorial as she looked over Lois, “I can’t say I regret that I’m now more open to other things.”

The look made Lois swallow hard, quickly composing herself, begging her journalist mind to work. “So, Ms. Kyle. Were you and Mr. Wayne official then? Why be at his gala if you’re not together anymore?”

”Selina, dear—“ Lois inhaled sharply at the pet name “—and no, never anything official.” Selina chewed on her lip, Lois cursing her mind for replaying the image. “Maybe that was it all along. We liked each other, but our lives didn’t let us commit. But we could commit to being friends, so that’s why I’m here.”

She reached over to the table, grabbing a canapé and popping it in her mouth. The two strands of hair that were curled out on her head reminded Lois of whiskers. “Also, I’m not stupid enough to say no to free food and alcohol. Does that answer your question, Ms-?”

”Lane. Lois Lane.” Lois sputtered the words out, fumbling her clutch. “Lois is fine. I hope you don’t think I was trying to interview you. Y’know, with the whole-“ she gestured to the camera, her hands falling as Selina laughed.

”Don’t worry, dear. I’m just making small talk with someone who isn’t an insufferable asshole. Though,” Selina continued, the smirk coming back to her lips, “I wouldn’t mind being interviewed by you.”

Lois laughed, ignoring the rising heat on her face. “Thanks, but society isn’t really my beat. I’m here as backup, I was already in the city for another story.”

Selina’s eyebrow raised, one hand grabbing two champagne flutes off a passing tray. She handed one to Lois, keeping the other for herself as she leaned against a column. “Oh? Do tell, if you can.”

“I mean, it's not exactly top secret,” Lois started, passing the glass between her hands. “The recent burglaries? Across the city? The ones with no lead or connection, except for the fact that they’re all from rich Gothamite families, which isn’t really that much of a connection—“

Lois cut off her ramble, draining the flute in one go and setting it on the table beside her. “I’m sorry. I’m still in investigative mode. I was at one of the scenes yesterday, and it's still just running through my head.”

”What exactly about it is plaguing you?”

”I-“ Lois huffed, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t tell you this.”

Selina laughed, leaning her head against the column in a way that let her gem-studded earrings glisten in the light. Lois could hear her heart in her ears. “Dear, that just makes me want to know more.”

Lois shook her head again, betraying her brain as she began to speak. “While I was there, I noticed a—discrepancy, on the glass case. It was like someone had cut it and somehow put it back together? I don’t know. But that, along with another piece of evidence, kind of gave me a lead on who it might be?”

”You’ve got me on the ropes here, doll,” Selina purred, batting her eyelashes. Lois wondered if the room was really that warm.

”It’s just a theory. And I’m no cop.”

Selina nodded. “You’re better than a cop.”

”Catwoman.”

The word seemingly made Selina freeze. She paused, opening and closing her mouth with no sound being made. Slowly, the odd mood change seemed to fade off, leaving a smile in its wake. 

“Well, isn’t that a theory.”

“And it’s just that right now,” Lois added. “A theory, until I find more evidence.”

Selina nodded. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for. It’s time for me to disappear, doll. Maybe you want to go save your friend from Bruce?”

Lois turned, snorting as she watched Clark get pulled off into a side room by a smiling Bruce Wayne. “Maybe I better.”

“It was…good to meet you, Lois,” Selina said softly, giving Lois’ favorite smile of the night.

”You too, Selina.” Lois hesitated before adding: “Maybe I’ll see you again.”

Selina smirked at that. “I don’t doubt that you will.”

Lois watched as Selina walked away, the fur wrapped around her shoulders swaying where it dropped down by her waist. She turned back to the door Clark had disappeared into, starting over to it.

Then, it was pitch black.

A cacophony of sound broke out in the hall, the sound of glasses smashing, people screaming, and people colliding into things and other people echoing through the room. 

As quick as it happened, the lights were back on, showcasing the shower of broken glass, disoriented people, and a general air of confusion.

Lois blew out a breath, hoping for the idea that it was simply just an energy surge, until—“my bracelet!”

Quickly, the sound of obnoxious sobbing sounded out, Lois locking in on an older woman dripping in pearls and lace, with layers of makeup on her face that were now smudged from tears. She gripped her wrist, showing blank skin under the sleeve of her dress.

Lois rushed over to her, leaning close to the woman, trying not to choke on her expensive perfume. “Ma’am, what happened? What did you lose?”

”My pearl cuff bracelet,” the woman blubbered, rubbing her hand, “and I didn‘t lose it, it was obviously stolen off of me!“

The woman continued to sob, the crowd surrounding to console as Lois stepped away. A glint caught her eye, though her brain was disbelieving as she reached down and grabbed another silver claw. 

She looked around quickly, stashing it in her clutch before turning back to the commotion. A none-too-pleased looking Bruce Wayne stepped onto the staircase, clinking a glass for attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, there is no need to worry. The police are on their way, and I‘m sure they‘ll be able to help recover the precious bracelet, Mrs. Wertherly.“

Lois watched as the placating smile he had placed on melted again to something akin to annoyance, the man disappearing once more, but that wasn‘t the focus of her thoughts for now. 

She grabbed her phone, typing out a quick goodbye to Clark as she left the building. After climbing into the nearest cab and telling the driver the address, she slumped back into the seat, digging around her tote until she came back with the same silver object that sat back in her hotel room. Lois turned it in the little light that came from passing streetlamps, watching as the sharp silver glittered.

“Now why would a highly-skilled thief leave not one but two of these behind,“ she murmured to herself, putting the claw back into her bag. “It‘s too messy. Unless-“

She pulled out her phone, opening back up her messages to Clark.

How fast can the Fortress run a material scan on something?

Lois sat back once more, letting her phone fall to her lap.

“Unless you want to be found.“

Chapter Text

Lois chewed on the end of her pen as she scanned the report, taking it out of her mouth as she scribbled onto the notepad next to her. 

“And you’re sure this is the only place these could’ve come from?”

“Fortress is usually accurate. And it would make sense. Working in Gotham, get your stuff in Gotham.”

“Yeah,” Lois sighed, underlining the address of the factory in her notes, “it does. I just wish I understood why the second one was marked and not the first.”

“Maybe they came in sets? So you only marked one per set?”

“Oh yes, let me just order my monthly set of silver claws that are sharp enough to cut glass.” Lois smiled as she heard Clark snort over the phone, tapping the button to turn off the speaker and she put it up to her ear. “Alright, Smallville, I got this from here. Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime. And Lo? Be careful. Gotham in general isn’t great, and the East End is the worst of it.”

Lois laughed, tapping her fingers on the back of the phone. “Listen, I may be 5’1, but you and I both know I can beat some serious ass. And I have pepper spray!”

“And an alien best friend who can be there in a second.”

“That too. But won’t Batsy get all grumpy if you invade his territory or whatever?”

Lois held back her snicker at Clark’s groan. “I think he’d be fine if it meant getting you out of his city too.”

“I interrogated him once.”

“A bat never forgets.”

“You’re thinking elephants.”

“No, a Bat never forgets.”

“Ah.” Lois shifted the phone, reaching over to rip the page out of her notes. “Talk to you later, Boy Scout. I got some investigative journalism to do.”

“Bye bye, Cronkite.”

Lois dropped the phone as the call ended, proceeding to shut down her laptop and throw it on the desk. She stuffed the notepad and pen into her bag, typing the address into her phone as she began to walk out of the room. Pausing, she moved the pepper spray from the zipper pocket it was in to her coat, pulling the edges down before continuing towards the elevator.

23 minutes later, she stood outside a dilapidated warehouse in the Industrial District of East End Gotham, contemplating how her career had gotten her here.

Exhaling the breath she held, she approached the door, giving it a push. 

It didn’t budge.

When all else fails, Lois thought, adjusting the strap of her bag as she stepped back.

Swiftly, she threw up her leg in a kick, aiming for near the doorknob.

The old door flew open, slamming against the wall inside. Lois peeked in, expecting a dusty factory floor and finding—

Anything but that.

The place was strung with lights, illuminating it in a soft glow. The inside, though still full of metal and machine, was draped with blankets and rugs and visibly old but comfortable looking furniture. 

And kids.

Lois blinked, frozen the same way the kids were, locked in an unintentional staring contest. One of the older girls was the first to break, running to the makeshift counter and grabbing a knife, holding it out from herself as she stood back. 

“Don’t come any closer!”

Quickly, Lois threw her hands up, stepping in and closing the door with her foot. “Hey, hey, it’s okay! I’m not a cop! Or a creep! I’m a journalist!”

“Yeah?” The girl asked, her arm trembling, “Well how do I know you ain’t gonna rat us out for being here?”

“Cause I’m not here for you. I didn’t even know you were here!” Lois’ voice softened as the girl’s arm began to shake harder, the knife now moving. “Listen, I came here because I got a tip that this might be where some evidence I got could’ve come from. Obviously not.”

“Evidence?” The girl’s voice was small, the knife falling to hang at her side now. 

“Yeah.” Lois’ eyes lit up as an idea formed, reaching into her bag. “Hey, maybe you can help me with it?”

She pulled out the claw, holding it out for the girl to see. The girl set the knife back on the counter, approaching the same way a stray cat would approach a human. Slowly, she touched the silver, looking between Lois and the object.

“It’s hers.”

Lois nodded, nudging her on. “Whose?”

“Catwoman’s.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The girl seemed plainly shy now, not as scared. “Marcie.”

“And how old are you, Marcie?”

“13. It was my birthday last week.”

Lois smiled. “Happy late birthday, Marcie.”

“Thanks.”

“Now,” Lois shook the claw slightly, bringing attention back to it. “How do you know that this is Catwoman’s?”

“Cause she brings us food!”

Lois turned and watched as a little boy, no older than 5, ran up to them, smiling brightly with a missing top tooth.

“Danny!”

“Oh,” the boy looked sad at the scolding, eyes turning to the floor. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Lois kneeled, looking him in the eye. “She brings you food? Does she bring you anything else?”

Danny looked up slowly, glancing at Marcie, who gave him a quick nod. He turned back to Lois, wringing his little hands. “Everything. She’s why we can live here.”

Lois nodded, reaching out and ruffling the boy’s hair as she looked back at Marcie. “Why are you guys here?”

Marcie shrugged, tugging at the flannel she wore. “We’re all foster kids. Homes were bad, abusive, neglectful, all that. So we ran away, in a little band. Catwoman saved us from becoming the Penguin’s little child laborers. She helped us set up this place. Brings us everything we need, makes sure we’re safe and taken care of. Let’s us be us.”

Standing once more, Lois surveyed the room. Heads popped up from behind couches and beds, from around doorways and corners. She looked back at Marcie, cocking her head. “How often does she come?”

“At least every other day. Sometimes she’s gotta be gone for longer, but she stocks us up and gives us numbers we can call if we’re really in deep shit.”

Lois turned to ask Marcie another question but froze, her ears picking up on the TV that was turned on next to the couch on the opposite end of the room. 

“Reports of a new burglary-“

Lois ran over, watching the breaking news as she swore softly under her breath. She ran back to Marcie, patting the girl on her shoulder.

“Kid, I gotta go. Thanks.”

Lois reached the door, pulling it open and wincing at the damage. “And I’m sorry for the door! I can pay you back?”

Marcie waved it off. “Don’t worry. André’s good at locks.” A boy about Marcie’s age waved from a recliner with mismatched upholstery.

Once she was out the door, Lois ran, cursing more and more until she reached a not-so-abandoned street. “What the fuck was that.”

She hailed her cab, jumping in hard enough that it shook the car. “Diamond District, now please.”

“But where-“

“Just in the district okay?”

The driver grumbled but took off, Lois slamming the divider shut and tapping her foot impatiently as she pulled up the live feed on her phone.

“A jewelry box, encrusted with precious sapphires, rubies, and diamonds, reportedly worth 245,000 dollars alone, was stolen this afternoon. It was on loan to the Diamond Gallery from the Medinci’s, and was reportedly holding an antique blue diamond and gold necklace worth over 3.5 million-“

The taxi pulled to an abrupt stop, Lois not even thinking as she threw the bills into the front and jumped out. She sprinted down the street, bobbing and weaving through the slowly-getting-denser crowd. 

As she arrived at the Gallery, Lois waved down Gordon, the even more exhausted looking man walking over to her. “Lane, right now is not a good time-“

“I don’t even need a quote right now, Gordon,” Lois interrupted, looking inside. “Just let me have my glance inside. I’ll come back for the quote. Please?”

With a sigh, Gordon lifted the tape, ushering Lois into the scene. He squeezed her shoulder, looking her square in the face as he spoke. “In n‘ out. No messing with my guys. Y’hear?”

“I just need ten minutes, Commissioner.”

“Then that’s what you got.” Gordon sighed even deeper somehow, turning back to the door. “I’m gonna go bare my neck to the lions out there.”

Lois watched him walk away, turning back to the scene as he disappeared back outside. Her eyes raked from floor to ceiling for any hint of a clue, dodging police officers and forensic technicians as they worked.

She turned a corner, sighing as she leaned against the wall, hidden from the rest of the scene. “Dammit. Nothing? Really?“

Her shoe dragged along the floor, planting against the wall behind her as she rubbed her head. Slowly, she stood back up straight, stepping away from the wall, until her foot hit something.

Looking down, Lois gasped, quickly covering her mouth as she bent down to reach for a silver claw and a tag, seemingly ripped straight from a shirt. The label was faded, but the bottom had something scrawled across it. An address.

Lois stuffed both things into her bag, schooling her expression into one of tired defeat as she exited the scene. 

“Thanks Gordon. Always a pleasure doing business with you.“

Gordon turned to Lois, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Nothing either? Guess we‘re about on par with one another then.“

With a nod, Lois ducked back out, walking down a block before hailing a cab and heading back to her hotel. This time, she let her eyes follow the Gotham cityscape, imagining a figure clad in black lithely sprinting atop it. The image made her heart beat faster.

She blamed it on the thrill of the chase.

Chapter Text

You do realize where that address is, right?

Lois rolled her eyes at the message, continuing to get dressed as she grabbed her phone to reply.

I‘m not an idiot, Clark. I looked it up

I‘m not calling you an idiot. I‘m calling you slightly insane for going to Crime Alley by choice.

Sliding her jacket on, she paused, biting her lip as she answered.

It‘s not a choice. It‘s my job. My duty to the people, or whatever. Besides, Park Row used to be a nice neighborhood. I bet there‘s still plenty of nice people there

You know it‘s not the residents that I‘m worried about. 

You also know that I can handle myself. And maybe

Lois cut off the text, watching as it went through on accident. “Shit.“

Maybe what, Lo?

I just have a feeling these aren‘t just evidence left behind at the scene. I think…

I think she might be trying to lead me to things 

She set her phone down on the sheets next to her, leaning down to pull on her boots.

Like those kids?

Like…idk. Maybe she’s trying to explain herself

Anyways, I‘m off. Talk to you later, hopefully

Her phone buzzed one more time, but she ignored it, instead stepping out the door. This time, she was only armed with her phone, the clues, and her trusted pepper spray as a taxi was hailed once more. 

“Uh, you sure, Miss?“ The driver asked as she relayed the address. “That ain’t a place most people wanna go to.“

“I‘m sure,“ Lois stated plainly, offering no further words as the driver grumbled “suit yourself“ and started off. 

As soon as Lois stepped out, she almost turned around and got back in. The day was already dark from cloud cover, and the late afternoon didn‘t make Park Row an any more welcoming place. She watched as those who were littered around gave her weary glances, and she realized just how much she stood out. With a bowed head, she continued down the street.

She looked up as she reached the address, checking the label with the rusted numbers on the side of the brownstone. Slowly, she walked up the steps, trying the door.

To her surprise, it opened with ease, eyes focusing in on the bustling room. 

A soup kitchen?

Lois walked up to the side of one of the counters where a tall man was greeting those who went through the line warmly. “Um, excuse me?“

The man turned, a smile still sitting on his face as he looked down at her. “Hey there, so the line actually starts back there-“

“Oh! That‘s not-“ Lois paused, looking at the long line, and then back at the counter. Besides the man, there was a woman with greying hair and bright eyes, and a teenager who probably wasn‘t older than 16, chatting up one of the people in line.

“How would you feel about getting another volunteer for a couple of hours in exchange for me picking your brain?“

The man blinked, letting out a small chuckle at the offer. “I mean, we can always use the help. But what do you want to pick my brain for—um…“

“Lois Lane. I‘m a reporter from Metropolis, but I‘m here working on a story, and my sources led me here. So, what do you say?“

Sticking out his hand, the man began to grin again. “Harold. And that sounds like a deal to me, Lois.“

As soon as the agreement was set, Harold pulled Lois into the back, getting her gloves and an apron. Soon enough, she was at the front counter, standing in the spot where Geraldine—the older woman she had seen earlier—had been, now that she was back in the kitchen. She greeted the people as they came through the line, serving them before they continued down the counter. 

“You guys seem to be doing decent for a soup kitchen,“ Lois started conversationally, watching as Harold turned to her.

“I mean, we could use a few more volunteers here and there, but we‘re doing alright.“ Harold threw his thumb towards the back. “We‘re damn near full on stock, we could serve most of Crime Alley with what we have.“

Lois nodded, serving another person, smiling at the soft “thank you“ she got in return. “Really? How‘d you end up with all that? Big donor?“

Harold‘s eyebrow raised, leaning in closer to Lois as he spoke. “So what exactly is this story about, Lois?“

“If you‘re asking that question, then you already know.“

Lois watched as Harold frowned, turning back to the line. She sighed, looking down at the counter in front of her. “Look. I‘m not here to try and get her arrested. I think…I think she might have even sent me here. This address was left at the last scene. She funds you, doesn‘t she?“

Harold‘s frown turned into a small smile, shoulders relaxing. “She gets us our stock, sometimes recruits short-term volunteers. Sometimes she just makes sure people know not to mess with this place. She ain‘t a criminal like some of those guys are. No Joker or Two-Face or Penguin. She‘s our Robin Hood.“ Harold gestured with the spoon in his hand, swiping across the air. “Steal from the rich, give to the poor. In a world like this one, I don‘t see how that‘s so bad.“

Lois looked at the line that wrapped around the room, the full tables and soft voices that barely filled it. “Yeah, me neither.“

By the time Lois left the building, it was almost 9, darkness having fully settled in under the flickering streetlights. She waved back at Harold, watching as he swept the floor through the window. Pulling her jacket closed, she started to walk down the street, looking for any sign of life. 

The yank of the back of her jacket wasn‘t the sign she was looking for. 

Lois winced as she was dragged and slammed against a brick wall, hands trying to grasp for the pepper spray. The attacker was quicker than her, however, grabbing both hands and having them pinned above her head before she could think twice. 

She silently cursed as the barrel of a gun was pressed against her temple, face scrunched in annoyance as she looked at the crookedly grinning man.

“Hello there, pretty thing,“ the man rasped, his voice grating in Lois‘ ears. “Why don‘t you just hand over what you have, and then we‘ll have a little fun.“

“Can‘t exactly do that from the position I‘m in, can I?“ Lois retorted, immediately regretting it as her head was slammed back.

“What did you say, bitch?“

“She said it‘s not a smart move to play with the Cat‘s toy.“

Lois turned her head, eyes widening at the figure that was perched on the rooftop above them.

“What the-“ the robber began, not even able to finish as the figure fell, a whip cracking and slamming into his face. The man fell over, scrambling backwards out of the alleyway as blood trickled down his face. 

Catwoman landed silently, a smirk on her lips as she watched the man run. Her eyes shifted, landing on Lois as her smirk softened to a smile.

“I-I‘m not anybody‘s toy,“ Lois stated shakily, silently slapping herself in the face. She just saved you, you fuckin‘ idiot. 

“No?“ Catwoman questioned, one of her gloved hands landing gingerly on Lois‘ head. “But you played so nice for me, doll. Followed my little clues.“

I was right.

“You did plant those at the scenes,“ Lois breathed out, hissing as fingers pressed against the back of her head. “You wanted me to follow them. Why?“

The hand pulled away, Catwoman glancing at the fingers. Checking for blood. With a sigh, she looked back up to Lois. “Dear, you know why already. Why don't you tell me?“

“Harold…he called you Robin Hood.“ Lois stood up straighter, wobbling as her head pounded. Quicker than she could blink, Catwoman‘s hand was around her waist, pressing her into the taller‘s side. She leaned on her, closing her eyes as the throbbing slowed down. “He…they all…you do it for them, don‘t you? You‘re just…trying to help.“

Catwoman‘s voice was soft, something too soothing to come from a leather-clad woman with a whip at her side. “I take care of those who this city refuses to take care of. And I do it on those rich assholes’ dime, just to make sure they feel it.“

“Now, let‘s get you back to your hotel, Ms. Lane.“ Catwoman started to walk them out of the alleyway, Lois pulling back to stop them.

“No. I have…ugh, more questions.“

Catwoman pursed her lips, looking down the street before blowing out a breath and shifting Lois‘ arm across her shoulders. “Alright. I have a place.“

Lois nodded, closing her eyes and letting herself be guided through dark streets.

Chapter Text

Lois blinked, startling as something soft brushed against her ankle. Adjusting to the soft light only took a moment, some part of her brain registering that she had just been out. She looked down, a fuzzy gray cat blinking back up at her before letting out a soft meow.

“Sorry about Fiona,” a voice called out, Lois turning to find Catwoman in the doorway, a glass of water in hand. “She’s a cuddle bug. I still don’t understand how she wasn’t taken in sooner.”

Catwoman strolled further into the room, setting the water onto the side table next to the bed—am I in her bed?—along with two pills. She smiled as Lois eyed the pills, stepping back. “Just pain meds for your head. I think you’ll be fine, but they’ll help the process.”

For the sake of her head, Lois chose to accept that as the truth, throwing back the pills and water. Setting the glass back down, she turned to the other, eyes scanning the room. “What is this? Your hideout?”

The laugh that Catwoman let out startled her, watching as the other walked over and closed a set of curtains. “‘Hideout’. Darling, I’m not Batman. This is my apartment. And yes, you’re in my bed, if you were wondering.”

”Why?”

With a shrug, Catwoman flopped into a cozy-looking armchair, smiling as an orange cat jumped into her lap, a hand coming up to stroke it. “Why not? I doubt you’ll give the police my exact location.”

“You trust me.”

“Or else I wouldn’t have left those clues. Now, those other questions you had?”

Lois sat back, folding her legs beneath her. “Why those families specifically? I mean, I could guess why you avoided the mob families, but you haven’t even touched Bruce Wayne, and his wealth is more than all the ones you’ve taken from together.”

Catwoman hummed, cocking her head. “Well, you’re dead-on for those mobsters. Too much risk. They don’t go to the police when you steal from them. They’re more…hands-on. And as for Mr. Wayne, it's simple.” Another cat jumped atop the chair, a tuxedo with ears too big for its head. “He puts his money where his mouth is. Our city doesn't fund any sort of helpful program, he does. Every time they vote to downsize entitlement, he ups his donations, or creates a new foundation, or something else.” Catwoman smiled, leaning her head back. “For all he acts, he really is a kind man.”

The words clicked in Lois’ mind, head spinning as she bolted upright. Catwoman matched her, eyes looking on in concern. “What’s wrong?”

”Take off the mask.”

Catwoman recoiled at the words, the cats in the room scattering as they both looked at each other. “Why.”

”Selina, please.”

Quick hands peeled off the gloves, and then, slowly, the mask came off.

Selina stared at Lois as her breath caught, eyes flicking between her face and the mask in hand.

”You—you used the party? To spy?” Lois gasped. “You were the person who cut the lights. That’s why you walked away.”

“Doll, I didn’t know you were covering the story,” Selina said softly, stepping closer. “I thought the crime scene was clean. But then I learn this brilliant journalist is onto me. I was intrigued.” Selina laughed softly. “And then she admitted to withholding evidence from the cops, and I knew she was the one.”

Lois’ mouth moved, but no sound came out.

”I knew that the claw was marked. One of the kiddos wanted to practice his work, and I told him I’d try it and see if it was any good. That’s why I left that one.”

Selina stepped close, only a few inches between them. “I knew you’d investigate. I’d gone home and read all the articles I could find by you. You are a real talent, y’know? I suppose you do, seeing your prizes.”

Lois couldn’t breathe.

”The jewelry box, I knew you’d look again too, as soon as you heard. So I left something more obvious.”

”The soup kitchen address.”

A nod. “And our little calling card. Sue me for having some fun.” Selina sighed, slowly taking Lois’ hand. “It’s not often I’m matched by someone. Especially someone so…enticing.”

Lois broke, hands finding the sides of Selina’s face as she pressed her lips to the other, standing on the tips of her toes to catch them in full. She sighed as hands wrapped around her waist, pressing her against the other.

Pulling back slowly, Lois heaved a deep breath, blowing out shakily as she refused to look up. “I’m-“

A hand to her chin cut her off, lifting her face to look at Selina’s soft gaze. Feather-light, she kissed Lois back, peppering her lower face with them.

”Oh.”

Selina laughed at the statement, the hand on Lois’ face coming up to cup her cheek. “Doll, you beat me to it, and somehow you’re still the one surprised.”

Leaning into the hand, Lois hummed, closing her eyes. “I’m processing the fact that I just kissed the subject of my story, which—okay, not the first time—but oh god my ethics are shot.”

”Well, something in me doubts that you’ll be naming the subject of your story, or mention that you kissed them. Am I right?”

”Yeah,” Lois grumbled, rubbing her face against the hand.

”I’m serious, Lois. I’m trusting you. Don’t make me regret it?”

That damn phrase.

This time, it wasn’t a threat. It was a challenge. 

Lois liked challenges.

Chapter Text

Lois groaned as her phone rang, her hand slapping at the side table as she tried to grab it.

”‘llo?”

”It’s great Lo. You really did a great job with that one.”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Lois mumbled, rubbing at her eyes as she sat up. “I forgot the story was out today. And you can’t say that, Clark, you literally edited it.”

”I didn’t know there were so many wrong ways to spell ‘burglary’.”

“Fuck off and go interview yourself.”

”Hey, everyone in here is praising it right now. It takes quite a talent to not reveal things that could be game changers for the sake of someone.”

“Well, I’ve had pretty good practice at that, haven’t I?”

“I think that just means I prepared you thoroughly for your new romance.”

“Why the hell would you word it like that, you freak,” Lois said between yawns, running a hand through her hair. “Fuck off and let me be gay in peace, will you?”

”You never let me do that.”

“Well yeah,” Lois agreed, “but that’s because you’re the most entertaining train wreck I’ve ever seen, Smallville.”

“Har, Har. I guess I’ll see you on Monday, Cronkite?”

“Mmm, depends,” Lois drawled, stretching until she heard a satisfying pop. “Might decide to run away to Gotham and become the beau of some criminal. Apparently I’m really good at getting myself into trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your free time. Bye, Lo.”

“Bye, Boy Scout.”

Lois hung up, smiling at the phone as she set it back down.

”Sounds like someone’s story is a hit.”

The smile only grew as Lois’ eyes fell to Selina, standing in the bedroom door. She gazed at the oversized t-shirt that hung off her shoulders, eyeing two mugs clasped one in each hand.

Selina walked over to the bed, nudging Lois with her hip to scoot over and make space. They sank into the mattress together, Lois taking the mug of coffee offered to her and taking a generous sip. 

Lois sighed, leaning over to kiss the crown of Selina’s head as it came to rest on her shoulder. “I have to go back to Metropolis, you know.”

Selina looked up at her, a wry smile on her face. “I know. I also know how to get around, doll, so don’t be too concerned.”

”You mean, maybe I’ll see you again?” Lois said, replaying their meeting at the gala.

Selina rolled her eyes, but obliged. “I don’t doubt that you will.”

Lois leaned down, catching Selina’s lips as the other pressed back with even more fervor.

She squeaked as a body was suddenly on top of hers, mug held up for safety as Selina tortured her with long, languid kisses. She pulled back with a laugh, the morning light framing her in a way that made Lois stop breathing.

Another win for Lane, Lois thought, as she dove right back in for another kiss.