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It always starts the same.A well-intentioned call for information, a rooftop rendezvous. Batwoman doesn’t respond to the floodlight—that’s Batman’s beacon—but Renee has her own methods, and they’re much more covert. There’s always an amused edge to her voice when she takes Renee’s call, a lightness in her tone that makes Renee feel as though she’s toying with her. Insinuations and innuendos, jibes and taunts. Renee grits her teeth, keeps her tone curt and professional. Tells herself she won’t give into them, won’t give into her.And yet, it always ends like this—Gauntleted hands under her blouse, around her waist, over her breasts. Lips on her collarbone, on her jaw—each and every kiss a testament to Renee’s rapidly-fraying resolve. A low voice whispering filth in her ear, a tell-tale chuckle that says I have you right where I want you.Batwoman draws back and Renee sees red. Red lips, red hair, the red emblem she wears like a badge of honour. Renee curses herself for ending up in this position once again despite telling herself over and over that each time would be the last. But then Batwoman’s thigh presses between her legs, right where she’s wet and throbbing, and Renee can’t bring herself to regret a single decision that led to this moment. She grinds against Batwoman’s thigh, her hesitation already forgotten, the hard kevlar allowing her just the right amount of friction even through the fabric of her own clothes.“You like that, don’t you?”Renee bites back her retort. Reminds herself what she came here for.“What do you know about the murders in the Bowery?”Batwoman sucks a bruise under her jaw. “Hmmm, you’ll have to be more specific.”“Four victims. Suspected strangulation. Ring any bells?”Batwoman ignores her and pops the last couple of buttons on her blouse, mouthing a trail down to her breasts. Renee gasps when her lips close around one of her nipples, the sensation maddening even through the thin fabric of her bra. She arches into the touch in spite of herself, threading her fingers through Batwoman’s hair to hold her in place.Renee can’t stop the whine that escapes her lips as Batwoman draws away. “That depends, what have you got for me?” Her lips curve onto a smirk even as she ducks her head once more.“I uh—” Renee’s breath stutters as Batwoman begins mouthing her other nipple. “I found out who Internal Affairs is considering. Rodgers, Pérez and Pearson.”Batwoman makes a considering noise as Renee scrabbles ineffectually at her armoured shoulders. Batwoman never removes suit, not even her gauntlets; it’s always Renee who’s stripped bare, who’s left vulnerable while Batwoman is utterly impervious to any of Renee’s attempts to reveal the woman behind the mask.The symbolism is not lost on her.“I already knew about the first two but Pearson… that’s interesting.”Renee can’t muster a verbal response, too lost in the feeling of Batwoman’s hands on her. It takes her some time to realise she still hasn’t gotten what she came here for.“The Bowery murders?”Batwoman chuckles again—that infuriating sound that Renee loves and hates all at once. “What would the Commissioner say if he knew you were asking me for help?”Renee growls, pinning Batwoman’s shoulders to the wall. “If you’re not going to cooperate—”“Forensics showed traces of fulvic acid at the scene. Your perp’s a hiker.”Batwoman’s hands drift down Renee’s waist to cup her ass, guiding her movements. Renee gasps into her mouth, the renewed friction between her legs making her ache with need.“Our forensic reports—”Batwoman cuts her off with a kiss. Renee’s lips part easily, desperate to connect with the only human part of her. Batwoman’s breathless when they finally break apart, and there it is: the chink in the armour, the evidence that she’s affected by this too.“I’d say my forensic lab is slightly more sophisticated than the GCPD’s.”“Sounds like you already have a suspect.”Batwoman’s lips form a wry smile. “You’re not the only detective in town.”Renee’s retort is cut off as Batwoman kisses her again, harsh and desperate. Her movements are growing increasingly fervent, the pressure on her clit sparking waves of pleasure through her body. She’s so close, moaning shamelessly into Batwoman’s mouth when suddenly—“Aren’t you going to get that?”Renee’s hips stutter. “I—what?”“Your cell phone’s buzzing.”Renee’s eyes widen. “Fuck,” she says, fishing through her discarded jacket for her phone. Her panic intensifies when she sees the name BULLOCK and she hurries to answer the call.“Montoya here,” she says, hoping she doesn’t sound too breathless. Harvey skips the pleasantries and gets straight to grilling her for her absence. She barely has a moment to steady her breathing before Batwoman’s pressing two fingers between her legs, rubbing insistently. Renee was already so close, and now Batwoman’s bringing her to the brink again, teasing her with relentless pressure.“Uh yeah, just on the other side of town at the moment, following a lead—”Batwoman’s murmured is that what you call this is thankfully too quiet for Harvey to hear, having already launched into a tirade about detectives who think they can treat the station like a hotel. Renee’s heart is in her throat, feeling as though she’s only seconds away from being caught. She does her best to apologise but she’s far too distracted by Batwoman’s lips on her collarbone, dipping lower and lower and—She cuts him off. “Okay Harv I’m on my way back now, see you in ten.” She disconnects the call without waiting for a reply, tossing her phone back to her jacket.Renee doesn’t pause, just grabs Batwoman’s face with both hands and brings their mouths together, biting at her lip before licking into her mouth. The kiss is aggressive and heated, all of her frustration finally pouring out of her, and Batwoman—for once—yields.“You—you are incorrigible.”Maybe she senses the heat in Renee’s words because for all of her teasing and toying, she finally gives Renee what she needs, pressing firmly against her clit through her pants as Renee grinds down hard. Renee’s been on the edge for what feels like forever, and when she finally comes it’s with a drawn-out moan, totally heedless of anyone who might find them like this. Batwoman kisses her as she shudders through her orgasm, the constant pressure drawing it out.She’s still panting into Batwoman’s mouth when reality sets in. Renee’s sweaty and dishevelled on some anonymous rooftop, straddling the thigh of a masked vigilante with half her clothes strewn on the ground around them. She wishes she could say it was a first for her.She rises to her feet unsteadily and begins fixing her clothes, grateful for the fact that her complexion hides her blush. Batwoman looks as put-together and battle-ready as ever, is steady on her feet as she stands. Her lipstick isn’t even smudged.It’s Renee who finally breaks the silence.“I have to get back. Thank you for the intel,” she says curtly, trying to regain some of her composure.Batwoman’s sly smirk tells her she’s failed. “Anytime. We’re a team, right?”Renee’s mouth twists. She tries not to think about the GCPD’s official stance on vigilantism. “Of course we are.”She’s just shrugged on her jacket and is on her way to leave, when—“Oh, and Montoya?”Renee stops in her tracks, a sense of dread growing in her stomach. She turns with a slow deliberation.“Yeah?”Batwoman’s tone is deceptively light. “See what you can find on Pearson.”