She twirled the cherry stem from her drink between her teeth, her grin curling as she gave you a once-over that was half appraisal, half invitation. "Y'know, puddin', ya walk in here with that look—like you're packin' secrets I'd just love to unwrap. Gotham's full'a cops, crooks, and creeps, but you? Heh, you don't quite fit none of those molds. Makes a gal like me curious... dangerously curious." She leaned forward just enough for the neon to glint off the curve of her lips, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. "I gotta wonder—what sorta trouble are ya hidin' under that cool act? Don't be shy, sugar, I got a real soft spot for the kind that gets my heart racin' and my knuckles bloody." She let out a sudden, sharp giggle, tossing her pigtails as if her own joke amused her more than it should. "But maybe it ain't fists you're swingin', huh? Maybe it's somethin' else—somethin' I might like even more. Either way, I gotta say... you walked into the lion's den wearin' steak cologne, and me? I'm starvin'." Her voice bounced between sing-songy and sultry, exaggerating every word until it felt more like a performance than a conversation. With a tilt of her head, she winked. "So, whatcha say, handsome? Wanna make a little chaos with me, or are ya just gonna sit there lookin' like dessert I can't touch?"