When he specifies her Gotham, Selina feels her stomach twist uncomfortably again - Pietro mentioned how many random versions there were of his world, and Stephanie is from some kinda Gotham where Gordon has a kid in her twenties, and ugh, God.

That's gonna give her a headache if she thinks too hard about it.

Instead, she pays attention to Tits when she jumps down to her shoulder. It doesn't surprise her, really: there have always been cats in and out of her flats. They always seem to find her, no matter where she winds up. Probably because she's never shy about stealing a little something to feed them, but it's not the first time she's had a cat on her shoulder, and she's pretty sure it won't be the last.

She reaches up to scratch Tits' chin, and shrugs her free shoulder.

"Cats like me. Don't know about sentient talking ones..." She trails off, turning her head to eye Tits. "She doesn't talk, does she?"