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Detective Montoya responded to the call because amongst the shrieking about limbs getting cut off and railing about costume villains with gimmicks, the old woman who'd called in had said the magic word "bat-birds."
She was not prepared for Deathstroke the Goddamn Terminator, sitting on a fire escape cradling his bloody, nearly-severed arm to his chest.
According to the caller, it had been entirely severed fourteen minutes ago.
The alley was also thick enough with pepper spray to make Renee's eyes water.
The bat-bird in question was out of his usual range.
Nightwing was plonked on his ass in the middle of alley, laughing so hard he'd flipped his whiteout lenses up to wipe the tears from his eyes.
Renee could feel a headache coming on, and she was entirely unprepared to share a glance of commiseration with Deathstroke the Goddman Terminator, but he looked like he was having the exact same feeling.
"Somehow this is your fault, Bird," the mercenary drawled.
Still giggling, Nightwing asked, "How do you figure?"
"In any other city in the entire world, I could sit here on this fire escape, quietly minding my own business while my arm heals," Deathstroke growled, and the gravel rumble raised the hairs on the back of Renee's neck. He was dangerous, and she knew it, even with his arm half-severed.
"How'd you get your arm chopped off, anyway?" Nightwing asked.
"Fucking ninjas," Deathstroke snarled, unperturbed by Nightwing interrupting what was shaping up to be the weirdest villain monologue Renee had been present for.
"Aw crumbs," Nightwing said, wilting. "I'll have to tell B the League is making trouble in his city again."
"And not the mercenary?" Renee wondered.
Nightwing beamed at her. "Officer Montoya!" he chirped happily. "Looking good!"
Renee rolled her eyes. He'd only started flirting with her when he'd learned she was gay. "Hi Nightwing," she said flatly. "Who's your friend?"
Nightwing grinned. "Renee, would you believe I have no idea who this is?"
"No," she said.
"Bird you wound me," Deathstroke said dryly.
"Not as much as I could," Nightwing replied immediately. "You were telling me about how your bleeding arm wound is all my fault," he prompted.
Deathstroke, maskless and visibly irritated, shook his head. "Not the arm, Bird, the cop."
"Oh, yes, I can see how I would be to blame for the Gotham Police Department," Nightwing said pertly, rolling languidly to his feet. "Officer Montoya, thank you as always for responding to my whims."
Renee made a rude gesture that Nightwing wasn't looking at her to see. Deathstroke nodded at her in approval.
"Any other city in the world?" the vigilante prompted the mercenary.
"What?"
"That's where you were in the monologue," Nightwing said.
Renee was glad she wasn't the only one thinking of it as a monologue. She leaned on the wall at the corner of the alley, figuring this was going to take a while.
Deathstroke growled wordlessly at Nightwing, leaning threateningly towards the edge of the fire escape he was still slouching on. It was… not a threatening as he probably hoped.
Nightwing wrapped his arms around himself, shivering visibly for show. "Ooh," he said, "So scared." Then he made a circle-motion with his finger. "Any other city?" he pressed. "I'm burningly curious how I did this."
Deathstroke growled again. "Any other city in the world and I could sit here, healing, in peace, with no one to even notice I was here!" he said, warming up to the idea again as he spoke. "Because only in this Godforsaken Hellscape do people ever look up!"
Renee was slightly offended on Gotham's behalf. It might be a godforsaken hellscape, but it was her godforsaken hellscape.
Nightwing said, "Oh, yeah, I guess that kind of is my fault. Me and B, anyway."
"Exactly," Deathstroke hissed. He pointed fiercely at Nightwing with his now-only-partially-severed arm. "Your fault!"
Nightwing sighed. "I'll see what I can do," he said.
Renee had a sinking feeling.
Nightwing turned his blinding grin on her. "Detective," he said, a familiar wheedle in his voice.
Renee crossed her arms over her chest. She had literally zero intention of trying to arrest Deathstroke the Goddman Terminator without backup, but she was really curious how Nightwing was going to convince her. "Nightwing," she said flatly.
He spread his arms, always a showman. "I don't suppose I could convince you that you didn't see anything?" he asked hopefully. Like a puppy. She had no idea when he'd flipped the whiteouts down, but even without being able to see his eyes, she could tell they were wide and hopeful.
"Not on your life," she said flatly.
He drooped. "Please?" he asked. His lower lip wobbled threateningly.
Renee snorted. "I'm reporting this as it happened. Deathstroke the Terminator, injured and healing slowly, handled by the Bats."
Nightwing opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Then his mouth split into a wide grin. "This is why you're my favorite," he said, darting in to hug her before she could dodge.
He was out of range again before she could slap him away. "Get out of my sight," she ordered, and couldn't quite keep the fondness out of her voice. "Both of you," she added to the now-fully-armed mercenary. In both senses of the word; his arm was healed, and he'd produced a handgun from somewhere on his person, though it was held low, and his finger was off the trigger. "This is so above my paygrade."
"Bird's fault entirely," Deathstroke told her, still wearing the commiserating wry grin.
Renee had seen the same expression on Batman's face, and Commissioner Gordon's. Nightwing just had that effect on people. "Noted for the record," Renee agreed.
Deathstroke grinned, and it was a truly terrifying expression.
Nightwing, doing a showy flip from one fire escape to the next, clutched his chest like Deathstroke had shot him. "Rude!" he protested.
"True," Deathstroke retorted, and then they were both gone, vanishing into Gotham's shadows with only the glint of steel and a flash of blue.
Renee sighed and headed back towards the car, trying to decide how, exactly, to explain to Gordon what had just happened. She was almost to the car when she heard the soft swish.
She didn't want to know, but she still looked up.