Holly took a battered flip phone from somewhere in her clothing and opened it.
She stared at the screen, frowned, then moved it through the air as though a better signal might be hiding several centimeters to the left.
“There’s no service.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mattheus rubbed the back of his neck.
“That’s because of the building.
The owner is this really paranoid guy who put something inside the walls that blocks telephone signals.”
Holly looked at him.
“You said you were the owner.”
“Of the pub, not the building.” He shrugged.
“The landlord had it installed after someone tried tracking him through his phone.”
Holly nodded, as though that made complete sense, and Mattheus had to stop himself from staring at her.
Wait, was that actually believable?
God, I love Gotham.
Holly’s expression changed after realizing what the lack of a signal meant: to call Selina, she would have to leave the pub.
Holly looked over her shoulder toward the door she had remained pressed against since entering.
“I can call her for you,” Mattheus offered.
“You can stay in here.”
She tightened her grip around the phone.
Mattheus waited, and after several seconds, Holly slowly extended her arm toward him.
Mattheus approached carefully, stopping as soon as he was close enough to take it.
Holly released the phone the moment his fingers closed around it, and he immediately stepped back to restore the distance between them.
Oh!
Right, almost forgot.
Best not to go outside just yet.
“I’ll call her in about half an hour,” he said.
“Maybe a little longer.”
Holly’s head shot up.
“What?”
Mattheus raised both hands, the flip phone held between two fingers.
“The person—or people—chasing you might still be outside.
If I walk out now, they could see me.”
Holly glanced at the windows.
“And despite these impressive arms”—Mattheus flexed one arm, achieving an effect that was not particularly impressive—”I’m not exactly built for a brawl.”
Some of the alarm left her face.
“Give them time to move on,” he continued.
“Then I’ll go outside, call your friend, and come straight back.”
Holly looked uncertain, but she nodded.
Mattheus gestured toward the table.
“I was about to eat.
Do you want to join me?”
Her eyes landed on his breakfast.
“You can have mine,” he added.
“I’ll make another plate for myself.”
“No, I am not h—”
Holly’s stomach growled loudly, and they both looked down at it.
Mattheus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
What incredible timing.
Things like that only happened in anime and comics.
Then again, he was standing inside a pub connected to a comic-book universe, speaking to Catwoman’s friend.
“That sounded like a yes,” Mattheus said.
“I’m not—”
“Holly, it’s breakfast, not a legally binding contract.
Sit down and eat before your stomach eats itself.”
She hesitated before slowly leaving the door.
Mattheus returned to the kitchen and brought out another set of silverware.
He moved his untouched plate to the opposite side of the table and took a step back.
Holly approached cautiously.
She sat where she could see both Mattheus and the entrance, placed her hands beneath the table, and stared at the food.
“Go ahead,” he said.
That was all the encouragement she needed.
Holly devoured the pancakes and eggs with enough speed to make Mattheus wonder when she had last eaten.
She barely paused between mouthfuls, washing everything down with his apple juice before immediately returning to the food.
Mattheus did not stay to stare at her eat (that would be creepy, and he was no Edward Cullen).
He walked into the kitchen and began preparing another breakfast for himself.
He made three pancakes this time and a larger portion of scrambled eggs, just in case.
By the time he returned, Holly’s plate was empty.
Mattheus placed his own food on the table and sat several seats away from her.
“Do you want more?”
“No.”
Her gaze remained fixed on his pancakes.
Mattheus looked at her, and she quickly looked away.
He sighed, pushed one pancake onto her plate, and added some of his scrambled eggs.
“I said I didn’t want more.”
“I made too much.”
She stared at him and Mattheus ignored her and began to eat his breakfast.
Holly picked up her fork after watching him eat for a few moments.
Seeing her eat eased some of the concern in his chest, but it also made him curious.
If this truly was Holly Robinson and she had Selina’s number, why was she still living on the streets?
Selina was many things—a thief, an occasional vigilante, a socialité—but she did not abandon the people she cared about.
In the comics, she had looked after Holly when they were young and helped get her off the streets after returning to Gotham.
Tim was twelve, so Jason Todd was currently Robin, and that meant Batman had been active for several years.
Selina’s debut changed depending on the version, but she generally appeared during Dick Grayson’s time as Robin, or sometimes a bit earlier, so she had probably been Catwoman for at least a couple of years.
In some comics, Holly stayed in the East End and worked as Selina’s informant, keeping track of what happened on the streets.
That could explain why she was still there.
Except Holly’s hesitation to contact Selina suggested otherwise.
Perhaps Selina had offered her a way out, but Holly refused.
Perhaps she had left the streets and later returned after something happened.
Or perhaps this universe followed an entirely different continuity from the ones he knew.
With so many versions of DC, predicting anything with certainty was impossible.
Mattheus considered asking but decided against it.
Holly had only just stopped looking at him like he might attack her.
Interrogating her about her relationship with Selina Kyle was unlikely to improve the situation.
They ate in silence and when Mattheus finished, he checked the time: a little over half an hour had passed.
“I’ll call your friend now.”
Holly straightened and looked at him with anxiety.
“You’ll stay here,” Mattheus said.
“The door will lock behind me, and nobody else will be able to enter.”
“What if they’re still outside?”
“Then I’ll come right back in and pretend I suddenly remembered I left the oven on.”
“That won’t work.”
“Of course it will.
Nobody questions a man in an apron.”
A faint smile touched her lips.
Mattheus stood and walked toward the entrance.
He unlocked it through the app, opened the door a few centimeters, and peered outside.
The section of the street visible through the gap appeared empty, so taking a deep breath, he stepped through.
For the first time since being kidnapped by a bolt of lightning, Mattheus placed one foot outside his pub, then the other, and the door closed behind him.
Mattheus stood completely still for several seconds, taking in the sights.
The pub occupied an interesting location in Gotham.
Its street could reasonably be considered part of the East End, Downtown, or Little Italy, depending on where a person decided one neighborhood ended and the next began (several of his customers had argued over it).
Tall brick buildings rose on either side of the street.
Fire escapes climbed their walls, old signs hung above narrow storefronts, and black bags of rubbish rested beside an alley near the pub (the smell was strong enough to reach him).
The road was damp, and a thin layer of grey clouds covered the sky.
It looked exactly like he had always imagined Gotham.
Mattheus glanced in both directions: a few people were walking at a quick pace, and a couple of cars were stopped at a traffic light, but no one appeared to be paying attention to him.
His first excursion into Gotham.
He had imagined this moment many times during the past two weeks.
Perhaps he would walk around the block, see what businesses were nearby, buy a newspaper, or eat something at a restaurant.
Instead, he stood less than a meter from his door wearing an apron while holding a prostitute’s flip phone.
Not quite the grand exploration he had pictured.
Mattheus opened the phone, found Selina’s number, and pressed the call button.
It rang twice before the call connected.
“Holly?”
The voice that came through the speaker was smooth, low, and incredibly sexy.
Mattheus’s brain briefly stopped working.
That was Selina Kyle—Catwoman—one of his oldest fictional crushes had just answered the phone.
Calm yourself, Matty.
“Holly?” Selina repeated.
“Ah, no.
Sorry.
My name is Mattheus.”
There was a brief silence, and when Selina spoke again, every trace of warmth had disappeared from her voice.
“Why do you have Holly’s phone?”
Mattheus could practically feel the ice coming through the speaker, accompanied by enough danger to make him stand straighter.
“She’s safe,” he said quickly.
“She ran into my pub about half an hour ago.
Someone was chasing her, and she asked me to call you.”
“Put her on.”
“She’s inside.
The building blocks phone signals, so I had to step outside to call.”
Another brief silence followed.
“Is she hurt?”
“She has bruises and some scratches.
Nothing looked immediately life-threatening, but I’m not a doctor.”
“Where are you?”
Mattheus gave her the pub’s address and described the storefront.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
The call ended, and Mattheus stared at the phone.
“She hung up on me.”
He looked down the street again before returning to the pub.
His first expedition into Gotham had lasted less than two minutes, and he had not moved more than a step from the entrance.
Still, he had heard Catwoman’s voice.
And, damn, she sounded sexy.
Holly looked up the moment Mattheus entered.
“She’s coming,” he said, closing the door.
“She said fifteen minutes.”
Relief swept across Holly’s face and she visibly relaxed.
He returned her phone and cleared their plates.
Holly remained seated while he carried everything into the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, the door of the pub opened, and a dark-haired woman wearing tight black pants, boots, and a leather jacket stood at the entrance.
Selina Kyle.
Mattheus stopped breathing for a second.
She was even more beautiful than the actresses and animated versions that had portrayed her—not that comparing a real person with cartoons was fair to anyone involved.
Her dark hair framed a strikingly beautiful face, and her green eyes examined the pub with wariness.
Keep your cool, Matty.
Don’t make a fool of yourself.
She’s just the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life.
No biggie.
Selina stepped inside.
Her gaze landed on him first.
It moved over his face, hands, and apron before finding Holly.
“Holly.”
She crossed the room in quick steps.
Holly stood, and Selina examined the bruise on her face before looking over the scratches on her arms and legs.
“You should’ve called me sooner,” Selina whispered.
Her voice was low, but the pub was silent enough for Mattheus to hear every word from behind the bar.
Holly looked away.
“I didn’t want to be a bother.”
Selina stared at her for a moment, then pulled her into a quick, tight hug.
“You’re family,” she said.
“You will never be a bother.”
Holly closed her eyes and pressed her face in Selina’s neck.
Mattheus looked down and busied himself arranging several perfectly arranged glasses.
Whatever had happened between them—and whatever Holly had been running from—was none of his business.
Selina released her and finally turned toward him.
“Mattheus?”
“That’s me.”
“Thank you,” Selina said.
Her expression remained guarded, but the gratitude in her voice sounded genuine.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t.”
Selina reached into her leather jacket and removed a thick bundle of cash.
Mattheus stared at it as she placed the money on the bar.
“This is for helping her,” Selina said.
“And for your discretion.”
Mattheus looked from the cash to Holly.
He considered refusing for approximately half a second, but this was Catwoman.
Selina could probably steal one hundred times that amount during a single heist and had no doubt already stolen millions, likely more.
He was also completely broke.
“Of course,” Mattheus said, nodding solemnly.
“I have no idea who either of you are.”
Selina studied his face and for a second Mattheus wondered whether he had overdone it, but then the corner of her mouth curved upward, and he relaxed.
“Good answer.” She turned toward Holly and rested one hand on her shoulder.
“Come on.
We’re leaving.”
Holly nodded.
Before following Selina, she looked back at Mattheus.
“Thanks.
For the food too.”
“You’re welcome.”
The two women walked toward the entrance.
Selina opened the door, glanced outside, and guided Holly through.
She looked back over one shoulder, and her green eyes met Mattheus’s for a moment before stepping outside.
Mattheus remained perfectly still for several seconds, and once he was reasonably certain Selina was not about to return, he leaned forward and pressed both hands against the counter.
“Catwoman was in my pub.”
A huge grin spread across his face.
Catwoman had even smiled at him—sure, it had only been a tiny smile, but it still counts.
“That was so fucking cool.”
His gaze fell upon the bundle of cash, and he picked it up.
The money disappeared in a flash of light the moment it touched his hand.
A notification appeared on his phone.
2,500 SP deposited.
Current Balance: 2,500 SP
Mattheus stared at the number.
“Well, that was an interesting morning.”
He was no longer broke; he had met Catwoman, and he had helped Holly Robinson get away from whoever had been chasing her.
Best of all, his pancakes had turned out great, so he was seriously considering adding a breakfast option to his (non-existent) menu.