"I didn't need to look. Worlds Greatest Detective, remember."
As she stepped closer, he let the cloak drop over his shoulders, it seemed to be his usual defense mechanism whenever she was around and decided to get touchy. He didn't move away however, in fact he stepped closer to the railing, close enough to smell her perfume, one he of course instantly recognized, Clive Christian, only ten bottles ever produced. So like her, under the impression that being wearing it wasn't one of a thousand clues to who she was under the mask.
"Speaking of presents..." His fingers slipped into the utility belt and pulled out two small plastic cards, a full day at the most luxurious spa in Gotham. One card belonged to a spa that specialized in people, and one that specialized in pets. His hand slipped out of the cape toward her.
"Running into Catwoman on Christmas Eve is not the strangest contingency I'm prepared to handle right now. Pamper yourself, at least this you can do legally."