Chase could feel a crick in her neck developing and rubbed at it, hoping it would go away. Why had she had to look up at the Batman swooping through the Gotham night sky, gawping like everyone else? After all, she knew who the man in the suit was. She knew intimately, as intimately as she could have wished when she'd first encountered the Batman.
Chase knew precisely why she'd looked up and stared. Because he was impressive. In more ways than one.
She wondered if Bruce was equally good at massage. The crick in her neck was his fault.