Title: Alternate Lives

Author: Jinx

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Pairings: (B/H)

Ratings: PG17 (to be safe – some violence, some bad language… no sex…)

Disclaimers: I don’t own Birds of Prey or any character created by WB used in this story. I’m making no profit on this and wouldn’t want to – as it’s ‘borrowed gods’. This is pure fun – and an entertaining way of passing the time when one is bored out of ones mind. (Although, most of the story-line is my own – together with some characters; I leave it to you to figure what and who J).

Author's Notes: English is NOT my first language, so please excuse any strange grammar or wordings… And – the story is “un-beta’d”, so please overlook my spelling-mistakes (if anyone feels compelled to ‘correct’ the story for me, feel free to e-mail me with suggestions at below address…)

Special Thanks: This is a Thank You-story for Aeryn Sun!!!

Summary: The story is set in an alternate time. What would happen if Barbara never got shot, and if she and Helena would meet later in life? (Um, sorry to say, though, there’s not much sex… What can I say? I’m a shy girl… J) The story is set in either (mostly) Helena’s or Barbara’s POV.

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INTRODUCTION:

I was a night-stalker. They called me Huntress and whispered my name as they would a terrible nightmare with no end to it.

My mother taught me everything about Gotham’s shady streets and dark alleys – I could walk them in my sleep if I had to – but it was not until she died I begun ravaging them like a hurt animal mad with rage and pain.

She was shot in her home and died bleeding in my arms. The murderer was never caught, but I dreamt about that night and heard someone chuckle in my sleep – in the darkness of the shadows outside the windows of my mother’s bedroom.

I didn’t know who was to blame so I took my revenge on them all – all the time looking for, searching for the one responsible. I was truly mad at one time, giving up the life I had been leading and left all things bright and merry behind me. I became as a blood-thirsting vampire roaming the streets at night for easy preys.

I blamed my father for my mother’s death, but he was nowhere to be seen. He left town when my mother was killed. He fled like a coward – an old man, not fit to fight anymore.

I never met my father, not once in all those years. I never missed him either; my mother took well care of me, teaching me everything I needed to know. “These things I can teach you”, I remembered her saying. “But the greatest lesson in life you’ll have to learn on your own.”

“What’s that, mom?” I asked and she looked at me with gentle yet mysterious eyes – hiding secrets I knew nothing of.

“Love, my kit-cat. Nothing but Life itself can teach you about love.”

I didn’t want love and I didn’t think I needed it.

Until I met her…

PART ONE

I didn’t know who my father was until my mother died. His name was the last thing she told me before dying in my arms. Before that night she always told me he was dead and that he had powerful enemies when he was alive – it was better, she said, that no one knew he had a child. I took my mother’s word for it, trusted her to know best as only a loving child can do. When she was shot, bleeding to death in my arms, she looked at me with this lost, vulnerable look. “Your father”, she said while I was trying to make her save her strength. “His name is Bruce Wayne… Batman… He is still alive. Forgive me… If you can…”

The only thing I could think of at that time was that she was going to die and that I couldn’t save her. It was not until afterwards that I realized what she had said and what she had done. For whatever reason she had lied to me during all these years and I was left – devastated, alone – with all these questions I couldn’t find an answer to. I was angry at her for lying, but that anger was nowhere near the rage I felt for her dying and leaving me alone. She had been my mother, my sister, my best friend… This beautiful, wonderful, wild and somewhat crazy woman. And then – she was gone. In the blink of an eye.

She was murdered and as I kept searching for a reason why the clues led me to my father: Bruce Wayne – Gotham’s and one of this country’s wealthiest men.

My mother once told me my father had been one of the best men she had ever known. “He was righteous and strong, never shrinking from standing up to what he believed in. He fought the good fight, Helena – never giving up. But he had many enemies who wanted him dead.”

Bruce Wayne was my father. He was also Batman – this creature of the night waging an endless war against Gotham’s bad guys. No one knew who he was. That is – until someone found out the secrets he lived with and killed my mother to cause him pain.

Word got to me right after my mother’s death that Bruce Wayne had left town – no one knew where he had gotten to, but the rumors had it he’d left to Europe to start some business there. I probably would have believed it if it hadn’t been for my mother’s last words. Bruce Wayne… Batman…

I loathed him for leaving. Not for leaving me – I doubted he even knew I existed – but for leaving without finding my mothers killer. To do so became my duty and I wouldn’t have managed if it hadn’t been for the changes seeing my mother bleed to death had wrought within me. I was twenty-two at the time – young and naive in some ways, but not as innocent and vulnerable people often took me to be. My mother had raised me well. When I was old enough she confessed to me she once had been a thief, raiding the wealthiest homes in Gotham until she found out she was pregnant with me. She didn’t want to raise me living like that so she gave up her old ways, but I knew there was a part of her always missing that life. I could see it in her eyes sometimes when she watched the full moon at night. She was a creature of the night and she taught me to love everything about the dark. She taught me how to move in the shadows – how to hide and stalk people without them ever noticing.

There was something different about my mother and she told me there were more people like her in town. She called them meta-humans – people with abilities that ordinary humans lacked. “We are feared”, she told me. “Some of us are nice – like ordinary people. We keep to our business and disturb no one, but others… Shisss…” She frowned, hissing in the shadows. “They are bad, kit-cat. Bad!”

She told me she had been worried I would show some signs of being a meta-human, being her daughter, but the only thing about me at that time that was out of the ordinary were my incredible reflexes. She taught me to use them in fights – teaching me kung fu and other martial art techniques. “It’s always good protection for a woman”, she stated matter-of-factly. “And you never know when it comes in handy.”

I was an ordinary young woman at that time. Well, almost – except the night-raiding part, maybe. I had been to Europe twice and even traveled in Asia. My mother thought it a good idea for me to see some of the world before I settled with my studies. I had recently returned from my last journey and was studying art and interior design at the University of New Gotham when my mother was murdered. Before that I never thought I’d make a break with that kind of an ordinary life. I always enjoyed school and then to study at the University. I had friends and a boyfriend and I lived the life of a quite ordinary young woman… Although it turned out I wasn’t that ordinary after all. One can’t hide the stripes of a tiger – they’ll always shine through in the end.

My mother didn’t really use any weapons, but she taught me some fighting techniques with sticks and batons. “I know a girl”, she said once when we practiced in the private arena of our basement, “who’s the master of the staff. I never learned quite fully how to master that weapon, but she’s a champion. She saved my life once”, she added, somewhat distractedly. Then she smiled at me and punched me in the chest. “Always be prepared, kit-cat, even while on a break… Your enemies won’t take time-out.”

When looking back at it I realized she trained me to be a fighter. For what purpose I didn’t know. Maybe she only wanted me to be able to protect myself, as she said. Given what happened I didn’t doubt it – and I owe her my life for that training.

Six months after my mother’s death I had managed to form a somewhat proper picture of my mother’s past and my father’s identity. Apparently my mother had been this clever thief known as Catwoman (I even found a couple of her masks in a secret compartment in our home after her death) and my father… I knew of Bruce Wayne, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew of Bruce Wayne. I had even seen him in real life once, on my graduation day at college – he had made a public appearance and held a speech. Some of my classmates had real crushes on him (I was glad I never did, considering…).

I had heard of Batman in equal measures. Both of them figured in the newspapers regularly – but for different reasons, obviously. Some years ago Batman captured the most famous of Gotham’s criminals – the Joker. There was this massive fight causing an explosion that divided Gotham in two parts. Where the explosion took place new houses and offices were built and with its tall skyscrapers it seemed to be a completely different town. It became known as New Gotham.

I never liked New Gotham; I preferred the shadier streets of Gotham and the beautiful buildings with its older architecture. The old Clocktower was one of my favorite buildings. I always used to watch it with my mother at night, seeing the light from the gigantic clock above the city lights – much closer to the stars.

I had left town just a few days after the capture of the Joker – to study French in France for five months. It was my mother who had wanted to get rid of me. She had booked the trip for me only a few days before the showdown between the Joker and Batman and after her death all those years later I kept wondering if she somehow had known what was going on back then and been worried for my sake. She had been happy to see me when I returned and by then the Joker was safe behind bars. I never asked about him or showed any interest in him – why would I? Life went on.

A year after my mother’s death I wasn’t any closer to her killer, but I never doubted her death was somehow related with my father – either as Batman or as Bruce Wayne. Both men had their share of enemies and one of those had used my mother to get to him. Although – the word on the streets had it the Joker somehow was behind the murder. He was still at Arkam Asylum, locked up with the other insane criminals of this town, and I went to see him once. He didn’t look as if he was capable of anything in his state – a gibbering mad man, inaudibly reciting texts from God-knew-where. Maybe it was an act – I couldn’t tell – but the visit didn’t give me anything useful. I left Arkam as frustrated and angry as I came, feeling the darkness in my soul as a creature feeding on my heart.

I dropped out of University, took a job as a bartender at the Dark Horse bar and begun moving in the nights like my father had done before he run away from the responsibility. I didn’t catch criminals out of any goodness of my heart, or because it was the right thing to do – I did it out of vengeance, as I understood my father once had. His parents had been killed in a robbery – an event that created a legend several years later. I kept wondering if my mother’s death would make a legend out of me – or a nightmare.

I felt the change in me already the first few months. I became something I didn’t think I was meant to be. It was the rage and the pain that filled me and – I guess; I didn’t know of these things – altered parts within me. I became… not human anymore.

When I understood what happened to me I begun searching for others like me and I found this place: No Man’s Land – a bar for meta-humans only. When they asked for my name I gave them the first name that came to mind: Huntress.

I found the name fitting, both in relation to my mother’s past, secret name and for my mission: I was hunting down my mother’s killer.

After a year I was nowhere closer to finding the guilty part than I had in the beginning, but I kept on in my pursuit – I had nothing left to live for. I had a small apartment above the Dark Horse, but I was rarely there. I spend most of my time at the bar or scaling the buildings, chasing criminals in the dark. It was on one of those nights that I came in contact with the people that were about to change my life.

I was having a fight with three local thugs in a dark alley, minding my own business when a pool of water suddenly attacked me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It rose by my feet when I kicked the last one of the three to the ground and was about to tie them up. Before I knew it the water took shape in a shimmer wave and flushed right over me. It pinned me to the wall behind me and seemed out to suffocate me with its mass. I struggled to get free, but the water kept pouring at my face. I was momentarily stunned and felt a slight tinge of panic as I realized I was in danger of drowning on dry land.

I was blinded and needed to breathe when suddenly a dark figure stepped out from nowhere, aiming something at the flooding waters and me. In the next instant flames bursts out all around me and the water took shape of a man – screaming. Before I knew what was going on the dark figure behind the man threw something through the air. Blue light exploded in what seemed to be a cloud of shining dust.

“No!” the man in front of me screamed. “No!” He looked at me with a disconcerted look before he toppled backwards – unconscious.

I looked at the slight, dark-haired man with the fox-like face and then raised my eyes to the stranger in front of me. It was a woman.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, taking her in. She was dressed in dark-blue and black leather, with some yellow color to it, and she wore a mask covering her face. All I could see was red hair, her nose, strong jaws and full lips. In the background I heard one of the thugs I’d beaten up whisper something in awe, before the three of them took the opportunity to flee from the alley.

“Well, you’re welcome”, the woman said amused and lowered her weapon. She tilted her head to one side, eyeing me. Her voice was low, but clear – slightly hoarse. Something about her triggered my memory, but I couldn’t place her. I was sure I had met her some other place, but she didn’t seem that familiar I would know her name.

“Welcome? I didn’t need any help.”

“No?” She shrugged. “My mistake.”

She stepped closer and grabbed the unconscious guy at my feet by the collar. When she looked up at me she smiled and I could see that her eyes were green. My eyes were still convexo-convex shaped disks – like the eyes of a cat – but she didn’t seem to react to them.

“We’ve been tracking this fellow for weeks now. Thanks for the help.”

I looked at her dragging the guy of whom she was speaking along the alley. “Fuck!” I said as I understood something about this situation. “You were using me as bait!”

The unknown woman checked her efforts and looked at me, again tilting her head to one side. “Using you? And here I was thinking you volunteered.” She flashed me a quick grin and I didn’t know what to say.

“Volunteered? What the hell…? Who the hell do you think you are? What the fuck are you doing in my alley, anyway?”

“Your alley?” She looked around, inspecting the damp walls, the overturned steel-bins and the rotting food. “I think you ought to take better care of you property, my friend… Otherwise there’s nothing left of it soon enough.”

Fuck! Did she mean to piss me off or was she just an idiot in general? “I’m not your friend. And who the hell are you?” I demanded.

“I could ask you the same, you know”, she said, still with this bemused note in her voice. “I’ve seen you around, catching bad guys – bringing them to the police station.” She paused, before adding: “Haven’t found what you’re looking for yet, have you, Huntress?” in a completely different voice. I got the feeling she was taunting me, but more as in a challenge than in contempt. “Maybe it’s time for you to consider your options. There’s more to life than shadows.”

I didn’t know what to say and she gave the alley a last look.

“There’s more to life than this alley, for sure”, I heard her mutter, not sure if it was her intention to let me hear those words. “See you around, kitten.”

Kitten?

In the next instant she was gone and I hadn’t done a thing to stop her. I wasn’t sure why, but I suspected it had something to do with the fact that she knew who I was. She knows me, I thought. That gave her an unfair advantage. I didn’t know a thing about her. She’d said she’d seen me around. She knows my mission, I thought, still standing rooted to the ground, like a tree. Maybe she even knew who I was looking for.

The thought finally got me moving. I jumped several stories up on the closest building behind me and rushed along the rooftops until I found what I was looking for.

She was alone now – without both the fire-weapon and the man she’d caught – and striding a motorbike not far from the alley. A police-van stood parked not far from her and I noticed two police officers locking up the slim water-pool bad-guy that had tried to drown me. A meta-human, no doubt.

My attention shifted to the woman on the bike. She left the streets and drove at full speed through the city. I tried keeping up with her, but she was too fast even for me. I might have been quick and agile as a cat, but a motorbike was a motorbike and driven by a master… I caught myself thinking that.

“Kafka”, I mumbled, standing at a rooftop looking down at the vanishing motorbike. Gibson Kafka will know who she is.

I returned to No Man’s Land late that night, finding the owner of the bar behind the counter. The bar was closed, but the young meta-human with the ability to remember everything he had seen, heard or even smelled in life since before birth usually allowed me some trespasses.

“Mmm, isn’t it my lovely smelling friend showing up”, he said when he noticed me and smiled that crocked smile – a mix between insanity and shyness.

“Don’t say that, Gibson. It always gives me bad associations and creates complexes about my smell.”

He laughed. “Always the lady. What can I do for you this late at night, Huntress mine?” He winked at me and I repressed a sigh; his crush on my begun to annoy me, even though he was a sweet man.

“I met someone tonight…”

“Ah, thou thorn of sorrow, piercing my heart…” He placed his hands above his heart, giving the ceiling a lost look.

“Gibson…” I said sternly and he grinned at me. “Not like that…”

“Ah, sweet music to my ears…”

“Seriously… I need your help with something.”

“Right.” He leaned in on the counter, looking expectantly at me. I told him about the woman, leaving out some details about her saving if not my life at least my dignity. If I hadn’t been able to defeat Mr. Pool (which would be as difficult as catching my shadow…) I would have had to run away. Not an option that would have made me happy.

“So… leather and a mask. Who is she?”

Gibson looked at me as if I was the insane one. “You’re not actually saying… are you?” He looked inquiringly at me.

“What?” I said annoyed.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Who she is?”

I sighed. “No”, I said slowly, looking him in the eye. “I don’t know who she is. Why would I ask you if I did?”

He shrugged. “Maybe you missed my company…”

“If I ever meet you in my next life I’m going to turn around and flee in the other direction as soon as I see your shadow…”

“You’ll love me in our next life and marry me.”

“Come on, Gibson”, I said, realizing he could go on all night. “You might have the whole night, but I have work to do.”

“She’s Batgirl.”

I blinked. “Bat-what?”

“It sure surprises me that you haven’t heard of her. You who ask everything about the big Bat.”

“Yeah, but…” I frowned. Batgirl? It did sound familiar. Maybe I’d heard the name but brushed it off. The only thing I was really interested in was my mother’s killer – not much else.

“His protege. She fights with him to keep Gotham clean from… garbage…” He made a face.  “Not meta, though. Never been here and is not welcome…”

I nodded, distractedly. Meta-humans could be picky about people sometimes. “What can you tell me about her?”

“Her?” He shrugged. “Don’t know. She fights in a team with Nightwing and what’s assumed to be Black Canary’s daughter.”

“Black Canary?” I blinked again. Her I had heard of.

“Yeah. The great legend. She died a few years back and Batgirl took in her daughter and trained her. She’s a great meta – she’s often here, although she’s quite young. But what a fighter for her age – and strong…” He sighed. “Some get all the lucky powers.”

“What do you mean?” I asked him sharply.

“You know – telekinesis, mind-reading…”

“Great”, I muttered, softly under my breath.

“You know I love your ways, Miss Huntress”, Gibson said looking at me with a slight excuse in his eyes. “But…”

“But what, Gibson?”

“You scare the living hell out of the criminals of this town, but it’s the Bat-gang they respect. You’re just another angry kid in the city, kicking ass…”

That hurt, especially hearing it from Gibson, but I didn’t show it. What was his word worth, after all? What was anyone’s word worth? I went my own way, created my own life on my conditions and no one else had any say in the matter.

“Right”, I said.

“No, no ‘right’.” Gibson shook his head, almost sadly. “Listen, my Miss Huntress. The real bad guys are not to toy with. You’ve been lucky this long, to have avoided them and their businesses… But when the time come you need a safety net, otherwise… Swish… Kaboom!” He let his hand fall to the counter and smashed his palm with full force in the desk with a smack. “Down you go… The end of the short story of Miss Huntress.”

“I don’t have time to listen to this.” I turned and walked away, leaving Gibson to his dark philosophy. Me – needing a safety net? Who did he think I was? I didn’t need anyone.

The next day I left my quarters to take a stroll down town in the middle of the day. I went to New Gotham – which was in the direction Batgirl had headed on her motor-bike the night before. I couldn’t get the meeting out of my head – it both infuriated and intrigued me.

I never really had any closer girlfriends than my mother and wasn’t used to women challenging me like the woman yesterday. My best friend in High School later turned out to be an assassin, a fact that somewhat made me doubt other people. Just goes to show you really don’t know anyone. And in Gotham every other person seems to have a secret identity.

It was Sunday in the beginning of spring. The weather was lovely: blue sky, birds chirping below the warming sun; happy people everywhere. I didn’t feel very happy, but I wasn’t really my usual broody self either. It was difficult to be broody on such a lovely day.

I passed the Clocktower; the landmark dividing Gotham from New Gotham. One noticed the changes instantly: the dark buildings of Gotham faded into high, glass-paneled skyscrapers. The lower part of the Clocktower had been exposed to the fire seven years ago and had been reinforced and rebuilt. The building was a landmark for everyone – connecting the two parts of this town and being both a reminder of the past and an inspiration for the future.

I headed towards Gotham Central Park, almost by the foot of the Clocktower. I didn’t know why I was drawn in that direction, except I had no business in this part of town and I remembered hearing about a fair when I was working at the bar the other night. It was a charity fair held for the town’s orphanages, arranged by Bruce Wayne’s trust fund. There would be merry-go-rounds and other kinds of attractions for children; lottery, games, radio cars… And everything would be for free.

When Bruce Wayne left Gotham he left amongst other people Barbara Gordon in charge of his great wealth. She was the one arranging this fair on behalf of the children. I didn’t know what to think of it. I had met Miss Gordon once – even though I wasn’t aware of whom she was at that time.

I had been the only person attending my mother’s funeral. It was a cloudy day with occasional drizzling rain – not that I minded. I didn’t care much for the weather or other people that day. I stayed by the grave till twilight, when a woman I recognized but couldn’t remember meeting suddenly was standing by my side. She didn’t say anything. She only laid a red rose at my mother’s newly dug grave and then stood there with me, in silence. Somehow – even though I didn’t know her – I was grateful for her presence and her consideration. Her presence seemed to calm me without her having to say a word. She stood by me in the rain until night fell, the rain stopped and the stars shone through dark clouds. Then she said, in a low voice: “I’m sorry for you loss”, and placed a card on the stone. “If you ever need anything… To talk…” She didn’t say much more, but turned around and was gone.

I had seen her picture in the newspapers and her face on the television since then. She was a close friend of my father and daughter of Gotham’s former Chief of Police. Mr. Gordon was still involved in a few cases and turned up at a lot of social events – he had a close bond to the mayor, as had his daughter.

Barbara Gordon moved in the highest circles of society in the town, being just as envied for her beauty by the younger girls as desired by the boys. I never knew what to think of her. My mother seemed fond of the younger woman and always watched her appearances, but I couldn’t make up my mind about her: if she was a shallow party girl as some magazines pictured her or a clever businesswoman. I never thought I would have liked either of her personalities, until I met her on my mother’s grave. The card she left for me noted her name, address and phone-number in print on front, with a handwritten number on the back. I used to wonder what interest Barbara Gordon had in my mother and me, but that day – when I walked through the park, noticing laughing children and smiling adults among the attractions and booths – I felt a slight, tingling shiver down my spine. Barbara Gordon had been a close friend of my father; he trusted her with all his wealth – a man like Bruce Wayne (or a man like Batman) would not trust just anybody with such a responsibility.

She has red hair, I thought, remembering the young woman at my mother’s grave; she had been some years older than me. I suddenly regretted not paying more attention to her when I had the chance, but I had been too overcome by guilt and grief at the time.

I looked around at the fair, remembering that I’d heard that Barbara Gordon would attend the fair in person. I had a vague recollection that was what she used to do when she arranged charity events like this.

And then – as on cue – I found her. She was standing at a booth not far from me, side by side with a tall, dark and handsome man in her own years. He laughed at something she said and she playfully slapped his arm.

“Give me now”, I heard her say while she reached for something in his grasp. He gave her three colorful balls and she placed them on a line on the counter in front of her. I watched as she chose one of them and aimed at the pyramid of steel cans further in behind the counter. A young man stepped aside, smiling at her while she frowned in concentration. Above his head a shelf with soft, fussy animals of all sizes were lined up.

“If you hit one I’m going to do the dishes for the next two weeks”, the tall man by her side said. She grumbled.

“Alfred wouldn’t let you”, she said and the man laughed. I suddenly knew who he was: Dick Grayson – Bruce Wayne’s adoptive son. That would make him my brother. The thought felt strange and yet… intriguing.

He’s too handsome to be anyone’s brother, I thought, appreciating his shape.

“Crap!”

My eyes fell on the good-natured face of Barbara Gordon. Her exclamation maybe expressed annoyance, but her eyes sparkled with delight despite the fact that she had missed the pyramid by several feet.

“No, no”, Dick Grayson said soothingly. “That’s no word for a lady. What would Alfred say?”

“He’d agree”, she said with a smile creating a dimple in her cheek. She looked so young in her pale yellow dress and her hair braided that I found it difficult to believe she actually run one of the most important businesses in town. Except managing Bruce Wayne’s millions she also run a computer company in her own name.

The next throw missed as thoroughly as the first and she made a face.

“It’s not my day today.”

“Is it ever?” Dick said dryly and the young man behind the counter struggled to hide a grin. I didn’t blame him – the intimacy between the two people at his booth was obvious. The bond between them created comfort in other people, which – I realized with a start – was probably their intention. My eyes narrowed, watching the woman.

Party girl or cleverness?

“My last one…”

Barbara Gordon took aim and threw… The blue and green ball hit the rack below the pyramid and bounced back straight at her. With a yelp she threw up her arms before her face as she lowered her head and the ball hit her squarely on the scalp, while Dick Grayson laughed beside her. What a girly, I thought with an amused smile.

“My turn”, Dick Grayson said and collected the balls from the man behind the counter.

“Right”, Barbara Gordon said, brushing herself off. “I did promise Dinah a bear. If I can’t get it…” She glared at him. “You better will.”

Dick winked at her. “Watch me.”

I did watch him, but he was no better than the woman was. Well, maybe a little – he did manage to knock one of the cans off the pyramid and got to chose between a couple of small animals not larger than tennis balls. The disappointed look on his face almost made me snort.

“This is it?”

“Dinah’s going to kill us both”, Barbara said matter-of-factly.

“Not me – at least I got her a gift.” Dick grinned and held up the small panda bear he’d chosen.

“Great”, the woman said feigning exasperation and turned away from the booth.

The booth was by now surrounded by people pressing against Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson. I hadn’t noticed the crowd growing behind and around the two of them, so preoccupied I had been watching her. She smiled at the people surrounding them and they grinned back at her; children talking to her, wanting to touch her.

I followed Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson on safe distance for almost an hour, watching them exchange pleasantries with adults, playing some with the children and then holding a speech in the middle of the fair. Barbara Gordon seemed so much like a young, innocent girl enjoying herself at a fair that I wasn’t sure I was right in my sneaking suspicion that she was the woman I had met last night, dressed fully in leather with a weapon in her hands. Her voice was different – lighter somehow; her movements were not less graceful, but less powerful and more like a girl in her late teens – somewhat clumsy at times. But her mouth, her chin and her jaws… Her nose…

I didn’t know I had memorized Batgirl’s face so clearly, but imaging Barbara Gordon in leather, with a mask covering half her face… For some reason the thought made my heart race and I felt a slight blush on my cheeks.

In the next moment I lost sight of her. Damn! I thought, looking around for her. Dick Grayson was in conversation with a tall, blond girl that had joined him and Barbara a few minutes before. She seemed to be in her late teens – sixteen, seventeen. I noticed he handed her the panda bear he’d won and wondered if this was Dinah. For some reason I had pictured her to be younger when Barbara talked about her earlier, maybe even a child.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

The sudden voice almost right at my left ear made me want to jump, but I repressed the impulse and slowly turned my head. She has the most brilliant eyes… like jewelry… I thought, distractedly.

“Yes, thank you”, I said politely, not wanting to admit how it disturbed me that she so easily had managed to sneak up on me. I was leaning on the railing to a terrace in front of and slightly higher than the attractions below. Behind me was Gotham Park’s Restaurant, crowded with people. Barbara Gordon stood beside me, half leaning on the railing, looking at me with pale, green eyes – almost like jade.

“Have you tried the attractions?” She made a gesture towards the area in front of us.

I shook my head with a bemused smile. “I think I’m too old for merry-go-rounds…”

She laughed. “No one is ever too old for them. Besides…” Her smile faded. “Here are children that hasn’t anybody to go around with – they would love someone to take them.”

I felt a pang in my chest; some kind of pressure that made it hard to breathe. “I’m no ones babysitter”, I said, more bitterly than I intended. Her gaze was inquiringly when she looked at me, but she didn’t say anything. She watched the children move around the fair in the different uniforms representing their particular homes.

“Money can give them something, but not everything of what they need”, she said sadly, leaning more fully on the railing – resting her hands beside me. I was surprised to see she had strong hands – a fighters hands. I even noticed a small scar on her wrist. “What they need is attention and love. To know… to learn that they have some value in this world. If we can give them that – even for a brief period of their lives… maybe it will be enough.”

I didn’t know what to say. She made me feel ashamed of myself, but how could I forget my past? How could I give up my mother’s memory? How could I forget the sight of her bleeding to death in my arms? I couldn’t leave the anger and the pain behind me – and if I did… I was afraid I would forget her if I did.

“Better they learn how to trust themselves”, I said. “There’s no one in this world that will care for them better than themselves…”

She didn’t say anything at first, but then looked at me with gentle eyes, not hiding the sadness in her voice. “That’s a harsh point of view… and a lonely way of living your life.”

Again I felt this pang in my heart, seeing her watching me like this – talking to me like this. No one talked to me like this since my mother died. No one dared.

Barbara suddenly smiled and raised her hand. She waved at someone further away and I noticed the blond, younger girl in the crowd, waving back.

“I have to go.” Barbara turned away, but hesitated and glanced at me over her shoulder with a small smile. “It was nice to have met you, Helena Kyle. Come and visit me.” Then she winked at me and I felt my mouth go dry when she gave me a wry, amused smile that I instantly recognized and added, in a low, hoarse voice: “If you dare.”

I moved towards her – I didn’t know why; to stop her, to demand her to tell me who she was and what she knew about me – but she laughed and was gone before even I had time to react.

Damn! I thought annoyed. Not again! That woman… Who the hell is she, actually?

I watched her as she moved through the fair and met up with the blond girl. They linked arms and then were gone, swallowed by the crowd.

PART TWO

That night when I went on patrol I kept my eyes open for more than petty thieves and criminals. With Batgirl’s words in mind – that she had seen me around town at night – I knew someone had been watching me without me noticing. The thought disturbed me, but I had the feeling that Batgirl – AKA Barbara Gordon, I was sure of it; even though it occasionally did seem somewhat farfetched, if I thought about it – wouldn’t make contact just to leave me to it. She had asked me something… Barbara Gordon also asked me something, I realized and when the thought hit me I stopped dead in my tracks. She wants me to join them… The thought would have been absurd, but for the fact that both Batgirl and Barbara had hinted at the thought that there was a larger meaning in life beyond revenge and pain – and dark alleys.

My father fought for the greater good. If I knew anything about him that was it – he fought to make this place a better world; a better town to live in.

“You’re just another angry kid…” Gibson’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe… Maybe there was something else out there, some other reason to do what I did.

“They need attention and love…”

She had made me ashamed of myself. What do I care? I thought angrily and went on my way. Why would I care what she thinks?

Except she had been right. I had been so wrapped up in my own anger I didn’t even considered the lives of those kids I had seen the same day. I could have given them a helping hand, a smile… I hadn’t. Despite the blue sky and the sun I had brought my brooding cloud of anger and hurt to that fair. I’m such an idiot, I thought. I used to care about children. I used to care about people. Now I didn’t give a fuck. Was that the kind of person I wanted to be – or become: hollow, but for the pain?

What would my mother think of me? I thought dejectedly. A noise behind me made me turn around to face a short, broad-shouldered man.

“Hey, you…” he said, waving at me with a gun.

You got to be kidding me? I thought. “You know, I’m not really in the mood for this”, I said indifferently, but with a hint of steel in my voice.

“I have a proposition for you…” He lowered the gun and tilted his head to one side.

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Huntress, right? We’ve heard of you.”

Another one? What was this – some kind of recruitment going on? “Sure, what ever.” I turned around, making myself ready to leave by jumping off the building. I fleetingly wondered how the man had made his way up here.

“My boss would like to have a word with you. He offers you to team up with his… group.”

“Group?” I said with my back towards the guy.

“Yeah – it’s your choice. He said to let you know he gives you a fair deal.”

I turned around, looking at the man with changed eyes. I saw him retreat a few cautious steps. “And exactly who is your ‘boss’?”

“If you come with me you’ll know.”

I tilted my head to one side. “He’s not one of the good guys, is he?” I asked and the man grinned.

“He’s very good to my friends and me.”

Pervert… “Right. I’m not interested…”

“You’re meta… You don’t belong anyplace else than with us…” The man said, looking me straight in the eyes. “The world out there will never tolerate you…”

“It doesn’t give me a reason to become a criminal”, I said and he smirked.

“You already are, aren’t you? What do you think you are – a vigilante?” He laughed hoarsely, condescending. “You’d be a thief if you didn’t have a job and a murderer given the right cause…”

I took a quick step towards him and grabbed his collar regardless of the lowered gun. “You listen to me, your little prick…” I could smell his fear, but he still smiled.

“Don’t you think we know you, Huntress? Don’t you think my boss knows what’s your hearts greatest wish? What if I told you he could give it to you? Wouldn’t it be worth it? Wouldn’t it be worth crossing the line for it – only once? Just do us a little, tiny favor… and you hearts wish will be yours.”

I was tempted. I looked into this ugly mans face and knew he was telling me the truth. I didn’t know what answer I would have given him, because in that instant someone else joined us on the rooftop.

“Would it be worth to defile your mother’s memory in such a way?” Batgirl said.

“What memory?” the man smirked, glancing in her direction and then looking back at me. “The memory of her bleeding to death in your arms? We will give you what you need to know… We will make your dreams come true. Revenge…” – he smiled – “is best served cold, don’t you think? Think of what you can do…”

I knew I would have taken him on the offer had it been the other night, or any other night before that. My soul had been dark and craving dark since my mother died – empty and shallow – and I wouldn’t have thought twice about crossing that shady line between right and wrong, good or evil. I wouldn’t have cared. But this day… This day I had looked into the eyes of Barbara Gordon.

I knew it was her standing next to me now, in silence – as she had stood beside me by my mother’s grave, asking nothing.

“Scum”, I said and twisted the gun from the man as I lifted him from the ground. He still smiled.

“Look out!” Batgirl moved, but it was too late. The man spit me in the face and in the next instant he literally slipped through my fingers as he faded into the shadows and disappeared.

“What the hell…?” I dried the spit from my face with a disgusted grunt, but was more confused about how the man had disappeared like that. This meta-human world was still quite new to me.

“He’s called Shadow”, Batgirl said, looking around. “Remember the water-guy from yesterday? This one turns into shadows. They’ll take him anywhere…”

“Hmm”, I grunted and stepped hard on a shadow just to make sure he wasn’t there. I noticed the amused look on Batgirl’s face and arched an eyebrow at her. She smiled.

“No need to save you tonight”, she said teasingly and turned her back to me. With one leap she jumped from the top of the building, falling gracefully through the dark. I rushed after her, but while I leaped from the building – falling equally gracefully through the night – she suddenly changed direction and continued upwards towards another building. I heard a soft, swirling sound and noticed a thin wire through the air.

Damn! I thought, still falling and not able to change direction. I wouldn’t be able to follow her until I had reached the ground and could begin ascending the next building. Even before I landed I knew that it would be too late by then.

I stood in the dark alley watching the skyline and the rooftops above my head. She turned around from the top of the building – a dark shadow against the stars – looking down at me before disappearing. Maybe she hadn’t saved my life today, but I knew – someplace deep within me – that she had saved me from making a terrible mistake.

The next morning I left my apartment and made my way to the address on the card Barbara Gordon had given me almost a year ago.

Gordon Technologies was located in a building right next to the Clocktower, in the newer part of Gotham. It wasn’t a skyscraper and didn’t even reach half way up the Clocktower, but it was paneled with dark glass. I realized, standing in front of the Clocktower, that the address written on the back of the visitors card was Barbara Gordon’s home-address and it was located on the other side of the Clocktower – an older, beautiful building with large windows. This information seemed important to me somehow, but I wasn’t sure why.

I went to the reception at the first floor of Gordon Technologies and asked for Barbara Gordon.

“Is she expecting you?” the friendly receptionist asked.

“We didn’t set a time, but she asked me to come see her”, I said. It wasn’t a lie.

“Miss Gordon is in a meeting at the moment. They should be finished soon. If you don’t mind waiting you could take the elevator to the top floor. Her office is straight ahead from the elevator. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” I nodded and did as instructed.

When the elevator doors opened I was greeted by a spacious room with large windows along the right side, another reception in front of me and a row of glass walls to the left along the corridor. Behind the glass I could see an oval-shaped table by which a number of twelve men and women were sitting. Their attention was directed at a woman in front of the room, dressed in dark blue trousers and a white shirt. Barbara Gordon.

The reception was empty and the door to the room was open as I walked into the large hallway. I didn’t know what alerted her – maybe my shadow moving across the hall, or the soft sound from the elevator – but she turned her head and noticed me. She had a concentrated look on her face, but she waved me towards the room with one hand without silencing. I walked closer and she directed her gaze at the people in the room.

“Greg – I can’t let you go through with this closure…”

I hesitated in the door, but Barbara Gordon glanced at me – waving at me to sit down beside her desk, where an empty chair was seen. She leaned on the desk, with her red hair bound in the neck by a green silk strap. I moved silently into the room, glancing at the people sitting at the table. Some of them gave me a wondering look, but no one questioned Barbara’s decision. I sat down in the chair, watching the woman slightly to the right in front of me.

“We’ve already made a deal”, a blond man in a dark suit protested.

Barbara rose from the table, swirling a pen expertly between her fingers. This was yet again another woman, different from the ones I had met before. Her face was hard when she focused, her eyes sharp and somewhat distant.

“And who, may I ask, gave you permission to even approach Blackbird Cooperation?” she asked bitingly, giving the man a piercing look he couldn’t face. Seeing the chill in her eyes I couldn’t really blame him.

“With all due respect, Miss Gordon…” A slightly older man in a gray suit leaned somewhat over the table as he spoke in a fatherly voice. “Blackbird Cooperation is a respectable…”

“Greg – we do not deal with Blackbird as long as they are involved with buying and selling of weapons. I thought I had made myself clear.” Barbara didn’t even look at the other man trying to interfere and I could see it affronted him. Tough luck, I thought wryly.

“You did, Barbara”, the man called Greg said. He nodded. “It will cost extra breaking the contract, though…”

“I’ll pull it from your wages”, she said and turned around.

“Miss Gordon”, the other man tried again, as a younger dark-haired woman glanced at him with dry amusement. “Blackbird Cooperation is…”

“Mr. Dale”, Barbara said as she paced the floor and stopped in front of the large windows with her back towards the room, looking out over New Gotham. “You are new to this firm and so also new to how things work around here. I suggest you take the time to learn our policy before making any suggestions about my choice of partners. We do not deal with any company or private person who has any connections to any kind of illegal or immoral businesses. This includes corruption and bribes amongst their board members.” She turned around, leaning on the steel-frame between two windows and held Mr. Dale’s gaze with a piercing look. She was strikingly beautiful as the early morning light reflected itself in her hair. “Has I made myself clear, Mr. Dale?”

“Miss Gordon…” he objected. She raised a hand and he silenced.

“Mr. Dale – I suggest you confer with Miss Stetson to your left what are considered immoral business and make up your mind if you agree or not. Or I will find myself forced to reconsider my decision to employ you.”

The man swallowed and nodded.

“Good. This concludes the meeting.”

I should expect her staff to glance at her in an almost evil way after that performance, but they only collected their stuff, shared smiles with her and went on their ways.

“You did a good job with the Caleb-closure, Greg”, Barbara said as the man in the dark blue suit passed her. He grinned.

“I know. It was great smacking Boyd on the fingers for once.”

Barbara laughed. “I wish I had seen it. You’ll notice I’ve given you a raise”, she added. “Well, you will notice… once you’ve paid me for the Blackbird-affair.”

Greg made a face. “I made a mistake, I admit, but their offer…”

Barbara slowly shook her head and the man silenced. “We’ll talk about it later”, she said friendly and he nodded, glancing at me. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right”, he said and left.

When Barbara and I were left alone I rose from the chair to face her. She looked at me with green eyes impossible to read. I wondered with an eerie feeling if this really was the same woman I had spoken to only yesterday.

“So, why have you come to see me, Miss Helena Kyle?” she asked in this business-like voice that was nothing of neither Batgirl nor the Barbara Gordon I had seen in the park. I held her gaze wondering if I had made a mistake coming here.

“You asked me to”, I said stiffly. She didn’t move, but a slight smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.

“I did, didn’t I.” Her eyes grew even sharper as she pulled her eyebrows together. “Maybe it would be more accurate to ask why you’ve chosen to take my invitation seriously this time. Do you think I have something you want?”

I felt anger stirring and fought an impulse to let my eyes change color and shape. I was about to speak when a thin, older woman showed up in the doorway behind me, glancing at me before speaking to Barbara.

“Miss Barbara, I’m sorry – I was…”

“Nothing to mention, Glynis. I was expecting her.” Barbara motioned towards me as she again leaned her hip against her desk.

“Oh, right…” the woman said.

“Do you want anything?” Barbara asked me politely. “Coffee, tea… soft drinks?”

“Beer”, I said quite rudely without taking my eyes off her. She didn’t even raise an eyebrow, only nodded to Glynis behind my back.

“An ice tea and a beer for Miss Kyle.”

“Coming up, Miss Barbara.”

The woman left and we were left to stare at each other.

“Well”, she said after a few minutes. “Why did you choose to follow up on my invitation?”

“Did you invite me to insult me?” I asked, feeling the anger tickling my skin. I didn’t know what I had expected, but it wasn’t this… cold and indifferent welcome.

“Again – it depends on the reason to why you have come to see me.”

“Why did you invite me in the first place if you question my intentions?” I asked insulted. Who the hell does she think she is? And what is she, anyway – psychotic? Suffering from schizophrenia? It wouldn’t surprise me, the way she seemed to shift between personalities.

“Your beer, Miss Kyle”, Glynis said and put a tray with two glasses on the table between Barbara and me. Barbara still held my gaze and I sure as hell wasn’t going to avert my eyes.

“Thank you, Glynis”, she said softly and looked at the woman. I felt a fleeting sense of triumph when she had to give in before me. “Will you please close the door?”

The look Glynis gave me indicated that she wasn’t used to Barbara’s door ever being closed. I wondered what that said of the woman in front of me.

“Is everything fine, Miss Barbara?” Glynis said and gave her a worried frown. Barbara nodded and smiled softly.

“Everything is fine, Glynis. We only need to talk, that’s all. Oh – and could you let Dick know I might run a little late? Tell him I’m having problems with our cat – he’ll know what I mean.”

“Yes, Miss Barbara.”

Glynis frowned at me before leaving, but she closed the door behind her.

“Cat?” I said scornfully.

“Yes – it’s a lovely cat.” She reached for a photograph on the desk and showed it to me. “See?”

The picture showed three people close together, laughing. It was Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson and the girl Dinah I had seen yesterday, but a couple of years younger. The girl held a white cat in her arms.

“It’s sick, poor thing.”

She put down the picture and gave me the glass containing beer, before drinking of her own. Serves me right, I thought. Not everything is about me…

“I run a business”, she suddenly said, making a swift gesture with her arm around the room. “We deal with everything from Nano-technique and space-programs to basic educational programs for children or games for teenagers. To me it’s important to know my clients – what they want, who they are and most importantly… To know what they want from me and what they are willing to give in return.”

She held my gaze and I felt a slight shiver of fear down my back. This woman was not some sleazy scumbag easily defeated in a dark alley. She fought another battle – one that my mother had never prepared me for.

I was never much for psychology or the philosophy of things – I preferred it the straight way: if you had a problem with someone – beat the crap out of them. I never liked the way some girls at high school and college went behind each other’s backs to create intrigues and shaped lies. I loathed that game.

“I want the truth”, I said and finally noted some reaction in her eyes. Something shifted and I was sure she looked pleased with me, as if I had passed some unspoken test – or something. The thought filled me with at strange sense of almost delight – I had done something right in her eyes. Then I was angry at my reaction – what the hell did it matter to me what she thought?

“I don’t have the whole truth”, she said. “I will give you what I can.”

“And me?” I asked, leaving my beer untouched. “What do you want in return?”

“The information I give you comes free of charges”, she said with a dry smile. She rolled the last of her ice tea in the glass and finished it before placing the glass on the table. I put my glass beside hers.

“You want nothing of me?” I asked suspiciously.

“I didn’t say that.” She held my gaze. “You will get the information you want regardless…”

“Regardless what?” I snapped.

She glanced behind me and then rose. “This is not the right place to discuss these things”, she said and moved away from me, towards the door. I lost my temper with her and grabbed her wrist, twisting her around to face me. My eyes changed as I looked at her.

“You listen to me”, I said. “I’m not your little toy… You tell me now what you want from me or I…”

“What?” she said coldly. “You’ll kill me?”

“Miss Barbara!” Glynis opened the door and hurried into the room. Barbara’s gaze left mine, but I didn’t let go of her and she didn’t try to break free.

“It’s fine, Glynis. Leave us.”

I expected the woman to object, but something in Barbara’s eyes or maybe in her voice made her obey without another word. When the door closed Barbara looked at me again.

“I suggest you let go of me, before my secretary call the police. We’ll talk later.”

I held her wrist a moment longer, before letting her go. “Fine.”

“Thank you”, she said, rubbing her wrist. I smirked at her.

“I didn’t hold you that hard”, I said.

“Maybe you don’t know your own strength”, she retorted and this time there was a hint of Batgirl in her voice and in her amused smile, but it was gone just as quickly again. “Do you want to leave a contact number for me to reach you?”

“I’ll find you”, I said and turned to leave. The last thing I heard, so softly spoken under her breath I wasn’t sure I really heard it or if I was meant to hear it, was her saying:

“I’m sure you do.”

The rest of the day I spent tracking down this Dinah girl and Dick Grayson. Dinah proved to be the easiest – she went to New Gotham high school not far from the Clocktower. According to some information I picked up from a quick conversation with the schools guidance counselor – Wade Brixton – I found out that Barbara Gordon had been Dinah Lance’s legal guardian since the girl was nine. It surprised me. Barbara must have been quite young herself at that time and I wondered what would have made her take a decision like that… Unless…

Gibson had informed me about Black Canary’s daughter. Could this be her? That young, innocent looking girl from the fair?

In that case I had no problems guessing who Dick Grayson’s alter ego must be: Nightwing – Batman’s other protege. The pieces in this gigantic jigsaw were finally coming into place.

Later that night I watched the Clocktower closely from the shadows at the foot of the high building. I remembered the rumors of Batman’s Batcave and knew it was too convenient that Barbara Gordon’s office was placed on one side of the Clocktower and her home on the other side. It seemed a logical decision from Barbara Gordon’s point of view – close to home; close to the office – but even more logical if you knew her alter ego.

All organized criminals and all organized vigilantes needed a base. I didn’t have one and never felt I needed one – but on the other hand I didn’t consider myself to be particular organized. What better place for Batgirl to hide a secret lair than in the Clocktower, with connections to both her home and her work? It shaped a perfect net.

The question was: how would I find a way in?

I didn’t. Finally I had to give it up. It seemed the Clocktower was a fortress and in the end I just decided to scale the building. It was one of the highest buildings in town, but I often climbed the highest one – reaching for the stars late at night, finding peace in the shadows from the anger craving me.

That night I climbed the Clocktower for the first time in my life, wondering why I hadn’t done it before. When I was almost at the top I reached an open aired ledge where a man stood leaning at the brick-wall behind him, apparently waiting for someone. It turned out he seemed to be waiting for me.

“Hi”, he said when he noticed me. I recognized him as Dick Grayson – AKA Nightwing. “You must be Huntress, I presume.”

I felt like kicking someone, but nodded. “I know who you are”, I added.

He smiled. “Of course you do. Nice to finally have met you… sister.” He gave me his hand and I took it, after some consideration.

“Hmm”, I said.

“Not very talkative? That’s fine… Bruce wasn’t either, really. Follow me.”

Dick went before me through an open door with windows on each side, leading to an open space far above a large room below us. I didn’t know what to think about his remark, but seeing the interior of the Clocktower I forgot everything else.

Where Dick and I stood there was a kitchen in front of us, with a railing to the left from above which we looked down at the space below. The railing continued across the room, below the high ceiling – creating a living room further away, broken only by the large stairs leading down to the room. An elevator was to be seen opposite the stairs on the floor were we stood.

The room below contained a massive desk with computers, screens and technical gadgets I had never seen and wouldn’t know how to use. A woman was sitting at the desk, looking up at the massive screens above her head. She wore glasses, which I found quite cute on her.

I recognized her, of course.

Suddenly an old man stepped out of the elevator, pulling a small wagon with glasses, cups and plates behind him.

“Oh, dear – visitors.” He eyed me frankly, then smiled softly. “Would you care for a cup of tea, my dear?”

“No more tea, Alfred!” Barbara Gordon called from below the railing. “Go home, old man! Go to bed!”

“Miss Barbara”, Alfred said, looking injured. “Is that the way to speak to an old friend? Especially when he only does his duty – to tend to guests of the house?”

“Oracles always speaks as they wish, Alfred, don’t you know?” Dick said with a grin. “They always speak the truth.”

I looked about the railing, noting the blond girl – Dinah – appear from somewhere beneath the kitchen on the floor below. She stopped and looked up at us with a smile. She waved when she saw me and I instinctively waved back before I caught myself. Barbara Gordon was still watching the screens above her head and I followed her gaze, noticing they showed different camera shows of various places in Gotham. It was like watching the news.

“Satellite pictures”, Dick said in my ear. “She’s a wizard at the computer – hacks in everywhere you can imagine.”

“Right”, I said, not knowing what to add. I knew nothing of or cared about the first things about computers – more than how to arrange a room in a 3D-hologram, being part of my former education.

“Come… I’ll introduce you properly.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Helena”, Alfred said and I gave him a surprised look. Did everyone know my fucking name? “I’ll get you some tea”, he added.

Dick showed me the way to the stairs and when we descended Barbara Gordon finally turned to look at me. She tilted her head to one side as I had seen her do before and watched me curiously as I walked closer.

“This is Dinah”, Dick said, halting me by the blond girl.

“Hi”, the girl said with a broad smile. She didn’t extend her hand and I didn’t either. “You’re the famous Huntress.”

I blinked and Dick laughed.

“Trust the child to get straight to the point.”

“I’m not a child”, Dinah said somewhat affronted, but Dick winked at her and she pulled a face at him. She looked a child to me.

“I hope your cat is feeling better?” I said politely. Dinah gave me a strange look.

“Our cat?”

“Yeah – a white one… Soft and furry…”

“Oh, Gadget? He died last year. He was old.”

“Did he, really?” I said sarcastically, turning to Barbara Gordon still watching me. She shrugged innocently. The impertinence of this woman…! “And you are Batgirl…” I said pointedly.

“Actually, I’m Oracle… at the moment. How do you do?” She rose and extended her hand to me. I didn’t hesitate, but took it in a firm grasp. This was the first time I touched her, save the violent grasp of earlier today. Thinking about it I noticed a slight bruise at her wrist. Either she bruised easily or she was right: I didn’t know my own strength. Startled I caught her gaze, wanting to apologize, but she winked at me and pulled away.

“It’s confusing, you know”, Dinah said beside me, as I was locked in eye contact with Barbara. “I never know what to call her. Can’t call her Barbara when in suit and not Batgirl when in a dress, in front of whole Gotham’s…”

“Dinah”, Dick said softly and the girl stopped. I glanced at her and noticed her blushing.

“Sorry”, she mumbled. “Speech-diarrhea – wish there was a cure…” She looked at me and shrugged apologetically.

I felt confused and didn’t know how to react. I looked around the room. “Great place you’ve got here”, I said, sounding non-impressed.

“It’ll do”, Barbara said.

It confused the hell out of me that none of them seemed surprised to see me. I wanted to ask, but didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing I felt confused.

Suddenly some lights on the screens in front of us begun flashing and an annoying beeping sound was heard. Barbara – Oracle; I was confused about this change of names – turned towards the screens and begun pressing some buttons.

“It’s the Townhall… Nightwing…”

“We’re on our way”, Dinah said, suddenly not sounding like a young girl anymore. Dick pulled out a dark mask and tied it across his face and Dinah hid her face behind a similar mask, but white.

Barbara looked at me. “Go with them”, she said and held my gaze. Her eyes were not as cold as the businesswoman’s I had seen the same day, but neither were they as soft as that woman’s eyes as I had seen yesterday in the park. I looked at her for a moment and then nodded, knowing this was the reason she had asked me here: to join them. And I knew – deep in my heart, where the secrets of my own self were waiting for me – this was the reason to why I had come.

PART THREE

I was about to learn that to fight in New Gotham was different from fighting in the older parts of town. It was not as damp and dark – even thought the shadows where thick enough – but the main difference was the crooks. The ones I had spent my time catching had been lower thugs – second or third grade fools and often the failing part in some bad-ass gang. Every now and then I had been lucky enough to get involved with someone who actually managed to make me break a sweat (water-pool guy included), but more often than not they were only full of muscles, no brains and probably not especially high-ranking on the hierarchy of Gotham’s Underworld. These were the kind of guys I kept myself busy with and self-satisfactory beat the crap out of. I guess I should have reckoned there would be smarter criminals around town, but I was too wrapped up in my own need for revenge to lift my eyes to the horizon. The only thing I needed was someone to beat in to a bloody pulp.

That night I discovered an almost whole new world: the fabulously organized crime syndicate of New Gotham. And that was only a small part of it.

Nightwing rode his motorbike to the Townhall only ten minutes walk away. Dinah – maybe not surprisingly for a teenager – used her rollerblades. I had never seen anyone roll like her and I doubted I would again. She used them in fight, confusing the hell out of our adversaries – being in all places at almost the same time. It was truly amazing to watch: hell on small wheels.

When I arrived to the crime-scene the sight that met me made me come to a halt on the roof of the Townhall. At the square below, in front of the great building, almost twenty-five black-clad warriors in ninja-suits greeted us. They carried shining swords that they directed at Nightwing and Dinah when the two of them walked up to meet them.

You’ve got to be kidding me? I thought, my first thought was that this was a stage, set for a film-production we didn’t know about. Then all hell broke loose.

“Shit!” I said, sliding down the side of the building when three ninja-warriors attacked Dinah with raised swords, looking infinitely deadly in the pale moonlight. “Hey, you cowards – take on someone your own size…” I shouted, but then stopped dead in my tracks, seeing a great, bluish ball of fire sweep towards the warriors from Dinah’s outstretched hands. The men were thrown through the air across the whole damn square and I stood beside the young girl, looking like a fool with my mouth open. Further away Nightwing was involved in a fight with another four of those black dustbin-bag guys.

“What?” Dinah said, glancing at me with an amused smile, waving her hand in another direction – this time no blue fire shot from her fingers, but two ninjas were lifted straight into the air and were held there by some invisible force. Dinah didn’t even glance at them. “Never seen someone with telekinesis at work before?” The two guys in the air kicked wildly, before they were thrown the same way as the others.

“A hand!” Nightwing called and Dinah turned her head in his direction. One fling of her finger and two of the six men struggling to get through Nightwing’s persistent defense flew through the air and collided with another pair of three on the middle of the square.

“Thank you, pigeon!” Nightwing grinned, flashing white teeth in the dark.

“Don’t call me that!” Dinah objected. “What if it sticks? I’m definitely not going to be known as Pigeon!”

I laughed out loud, not able to prevent myself – the whole situation was just so absurd. In the next instant both Dinah and I were overrun by ninjas and needed all our concentration on protecting ourselves. I noticed that Dinah was an almost as capable fighter as Nightwing and recognized some of his martial art techniques in her. I had yet to see Batgirl fight, but it wouldn’t surprise me both she and Nightwing had spent their time training Dinah the way my mother had trained me.

“Huntress!” Dinah called and came up to me, managing to close the space between us. The ninjas didn’t seem to tire by the beatings, but kept coming at us at with the same strength.

“What?” I kicked a guy in the face and he – or she; it was really hard to tell the true sex of these things – fell backwards against another.

“Oracle says this is useless.”

Oracle? I turned around, but couldn’t see her anywhere. “What?”

“She says there’s no reason for them to attack the Townhall. She thinks it’s a decoy.”

That would make sense. None of the ninjas had been the slightest bit interested in anything else than fighting us. I nodded. “So – what’s the real deal?”

“I don’t know. She’s checking into it.”

Checking in? I finally realized Dinah must have some kind of radio connection to the Clocktower. I glanced at her, but couldn’t figure out what would work as an intercom.

“Shit!” Dinah said and instantly turned around on her rollerblades, abandoning the fight. In the background I noticed Nightwing doing the same. “Huntress!” the girl called. “Get a ride with Nightwing. It’s Arkam!”

Arkam? Shit! I knocked out two ninjas and headed for Nightwings bike. Dinah had already disappeared in the shadows amongst the buildings – a lightning on her wheels.

“Hold on!” Nightwing shouted as I mounted the motorbike; it was already rolling as I sat down and we sped through the night towards Arkam.

Arkam Asylum – the institution for anything Gothams ordinary health-care could neither deal with nor explain and the place for a whole bunch of insane criminals – was placed in the older part of town. It was an old, Gothic-looking building surrounded by steel, brick walls, electrical wires and guards. It was said it was a fort where nothing could either break in or out. Well – that proved to be wrong.

That night someone had definitely made up their mind about Arkam. The high iron gates were wide open when we arrived – one of them was even torn from its hinges – and a chaotic war between at least thirty black ninjas and the guards was weighed on the courtyard. All lights were out and I realized there was a war going on inside of the building as well. Windows were smashed and guards were thrown out from the top of the building.

The thing with Arkam was that it was placed in a quite desolate part of Gotham. No one wanted to live close to the institution and the buildings close by were only warehouses seldom visited and mostly empty or abandoned. If the lights were out and the communication broken it would have been possible for the ninjas to break in, kill the guards and let lose the most dangerous criminals of this town without anyone noticing until the morning. As it were the police were already on their way – I could hear the sirens in the background: courtesy of Oracle, no doubt.

“Let’s pick a fight…” Nightwing said, hurling himself off the motorbike. “Ladies first”, he added with at grin, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“That means you first”, I said, feeling the thrill of the fight. He laughed, but didn’t object and rushed headlong into the fight. Dinah turned up beside me.

“Batgirl’s on her way”, she said and in the next instant I heard another motorbike driving up behind us. Only – this one didn’t stop. I noticed Batgirl’s red hair flying in the wind behind her as she went through the gates, pulled her bike into a slide on the ground and crashed headlong into a group of ninjas. She kept the speed up, turning the handles and created a perfect spin. Her bike went in circles and cut at the legs of the warriors.

Dinah grinned at the sight and I felt a stretch in my chest, seeing this display of perfect control and power. She’d be a challenge to fight, I thought. In the next moment I rushed in beside Dinah and hurled myself into the fight.

It was total chaos. The police arrived not long after Batgirl, which – together with those inmates who’d managed to break loose – made the confusion even greater. I tried not knocking some police officer on the head, but in the mess of bodies, firearms and blazing swords I probably kicked some of them in the wrong places. Once a black policeman turned his gun at me, holding it steady.

“Freeze!” he commanded and even though I usually preferred men with an attitude this was absolutely not the right time.

“I’m on your fucking side!” I said and hurled a policeman’s helmet at an ugly looking man behind the police, who was just going to split him in half with an axe. Where the hell did he get an axe in here? I thought. The policeman turned around and shot the ugly guy in the leg.

The cop looked down at the guy sprawled on the ground before him and then back at me. “Sorry”, he said. “Could you blame me? The way you look?”

The way I look? “Take an advice, Judge Dredd”, I said. “Do not – and I mean it… Do not insult a woman about the way she looks – especially not at work.”

He blinked and then grinned. “Point taken. See you around.” He winked at me before returning to his mission.

Great – I got a fan.

“No time to be lazy, kitten. Admiring a man’s ass you got to do on your spare time.”

I swirled around, finding myself face to face with Batgirl. She smiled amusedly at me. When I didn’t say anything she winked at me.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Come on – let me see some of those famous reflexes.”

I felt like kicking her someplace. Hard. To take that arrogant grin of her face. Somehow I always seemed to loose my senses around her – or at least my tongue. I frowned at her, but she only laughed and returned to the fight. She fought with two short sticks made by some kind of metal. When she turned away from me she somehow pressed them together and with a clicking noise they unfolded themselves to become a stick in her size. She expertly swirled it around, breaking bones and disarming ninjas as she went forward. I kept on fighting, but held an eye on her. I could see she was an expert with that staff and seeing her I remembered my mother’s words, once long ago. “I knew a girl once, an expert with the staff… She saved my life…”

I had never been in a fight like that. It was exhilaratingly… amazingly… dangerously – fun. When it was over I felt as if I could have done another round; my heart pounded, my blood rushed – adrenaline surging through my system.

“What ya think, kitten? Not bad for a first date?” Batgirl said when it was all over, with bodies laying all around the yard.

I grinned. “Not bad at all. I must let you take me out more often.”

She laughed, but then turned and walked away towards a tall, blond policeman whom I knew on sight: Donald Drake – Gotham’s Chief of Police; the one chosen some years ago to fill the shoes of Barbara Gordon’s father. Tough job. I watched Batgirl talk to him, but was interrupted by Dinah coming up at my side.

“What’s the damage?” I asked the girl, looking around to see if I could locate Nightwing.

“Well, the good news is we saved Gotham from an invasion of insane, psychotic bad guys. I talked to a detective right now and he informed me the criminals are behind bars again. The power’s back on…”

I nodded. The lights had been turned on right before the fight ended. “But…?”

“But we don’t know if anyone escaped and in that case how many. It will take some time to count them all. And we don’t know who’s behind all this. Will they try again?”

“This dustbin-bag guys might talk.” I kicked one of the unconscious ninjas in front of me with my foot. He – or she – felt oddly stiff.

“They won’t”, Dinah said flatly. “They’re dead.”

I looked again and then bent over to uncover the facial sock. The face meeting mine was deathly pale, with some kind of white drool at one side of the mouth.

“They all look the same”, Dinah went on. “And they’re all dead.”

“What do you mean – they’re all dead?” I grabbed the guys’ wrist; it felt cold and lifeless. When I let it go it fell to the ground with a fleshy sound.

“Well, that part isn’t hard to understand. They might have taken poison…”

I looked up at her. “So?”

“You should ask about the looking alike part. They all look exactly the same.”

I frowned. “You serious?”

“Yeah. Batgirl says it’s cloning.”

“Wow!” I whistled impressed. “That’s…”

“Macabre, if you ask me”, Dinah said dryly. “Considering they’re all dead, as well… It’s like – the one hundred and one Dalmatian in a rabies epidemic.”

I only looked at her. “You do have a strange way of putting things”, I said finally. She shrugged and then suddenly yawned and I was abruptly reminded of her true age. “You know, you ought to be in bed by now.”

“Don’t…” – she yawned – “remind me…”

I shook my head in amazement, finding this secret identity versus real life collision a little hard to catch up on. Then I noticed Batgirl coming our way again.

“Come on, kitten. You’re with me. Pigeon – Nightwing waits on the yard for you.”

“Oh, please…” Dinah sighed exasperated and I couldn’t help but grin.

Batgirl went ahead of us to collect her bike and I followed with Dinah by my side.

“See you at the headquarter”, Dinah said as we parted by Batgirl; I nodded and saw her roll away towards were Nightwing waited closer to the gates. Batgirl sat on her motorbike, looking at me with a helmet in her hand.

“Coming, lazy-cat?”

“I can make it on my own, thank you”, I said roughly. She held my gaze for a second and then shrugged.

“Sure, Miss I-can-do-it-on-my-own. I was more thinking in the lines of you not having to use the window-entrance again. But if you want to exert yourself scaling the walls – go ahead. Or return to your own home, if that was your intention. I won’t stop you.” She turned away from me and kicked the motor running. I watched her, not moving, as she put the helmet on her head. I could return home – to my dark, damp apartment; alone and broody – or I could speak up now and follow her, to where they would gather and discuss the nights events. But in order to follow her I would have to humble myself and to do that in that moment was not an option.

Right then she turned her head looking at me through her dark blue helmet.

“Are you still here, kitten? Want a ride someplace?” She held out the spare helmet to me and without a word I went to the bike, took it from her and put it on my head.

“Anyone told you you’re a real nuisance?” I asked dryly when I sat behind her.

“Oh, I hear it all the time from the ones I put behind bars.”

“Go figure”, I muttered, but too lowly for her to hear above the din of the bike.

We left Arkam in the hands of the police and its guards, passing news teams, photographers and curious citizens drawn to the place, and went through Gotham’s dark streets to an abandoned area some blocks from the Clocktower, consisting of ruins and shadows. Here an old subway used to run, but its only remains were the mouth of a dark, hollow tunnel. Signs warning for danger and telling people to keep out protected the opening. Several large signs above the place said the area belonged to Bruce Wayne Limited – what ever that was.

Batgirl didn’t slow down when driving towards the tunnel entrance and seeing what happened I realized why. As soon as we drove into the tunnel soft blue lights on the ground lit up the way, directing us towards heavy iron gates. The gates swung open as soon as we got closer, revealing a stone wall. Batgirl continued towards the wall and just before we hit it, it slid aside, giving us free way through a tunnel lit by pale yellow lights.

I couldn’t tell how far we went, but I knew we were heading in the direction of the Clocktower. Right before arriving at our destination we went through massive, thick steel walls – two doors slowly swinging open as we approached. Behind the doors a large garage was hidden.

I counted three massive Batmobiles (the ones Batman was so famous for), several other dark cars of various sizes and designs (looking very fast all of them) and several motorbikes. Batgirl chose a spot and parked her bike between the one Nightwing had used tonight and another, red one. I stepped off the bike before she had time to turn off the motor and held the helmet in my hands as she shook out her long hair from hers, turning around to look at me. She hung the helmet on the bars of the bike.

“Nice place”, I said, looking around. I noticed a railing above our heads, a small stair leading up to it. Not far from us there was an elevator. I also noticed two steel doors of ordinary size at each end of the room. The garage was heavily protected with massive steel, concrete and some other metal that was unfamiliar to me.

“Behind that door is one of our weapon-chambers. We have another one upstairs, closer in reach.” Batgirl pointed at one of the smaller doors.

“We’re beneath the Clocktower?”

She nodded. “The other room is a training-room. We have another one upstairs as well. I’ll show you if you hang around. It has everything one would need.”

“The tunnel”, I said, glancing over my shoulders. “What if anyone else enters it?”

“Our vehicles are equipped with tiny devices triggering the lights”, she explained. “We need to press the buttons when driving into the tunnel to make everything work. Otherwise it will only be a dark dead end.”

I had more questions, but I was sure she had some logical answers to them as well and gave it up for the moment. If I stayed with them I’d figure how everything worked.

“Come on”, she said and lead the way to the elevator. She called it down by removing one of her gloves and pressing her palm against a flat, square mirror. When the doors slid open I noticed there were no buttons in it. The elevator was dressed with mirrors.

“First floor”, Batgirl said and the doors closed. “It’s voice triggered”, she added with a glance at me.

“Huh”, I said, feeling strange being surrounded by images of myself and Batgirl.

The elevator stopped after only a short ride and a buzzing sound was heard as one of the mirrors turned around its axis and changed to a wooden panel with a metallic number display.

“Safety procedure”, Batgirl said and typed a code on the display before pressing her thumb at a tiny glass-disk. The elevator begun moving again.

“What for?” I frowned.

“The mirrors are equipped with sensory devices scanning our bodies. When a strange body enters an alarm is triggered in the Clocktower. When coming from the garage or the basement for any reason, the elevator always stops at the first floor. It won’t move again until the right code with the right fingerprint has been given.”

“Where do you get these things?” I asked somewhat dazed.

“Oracle loves gadgets”, she said and I narrowed my eyes at her. She grinned.

“Alright, alright – I love gadgets. Happy now?” She tilted her head to one side and watched me with green eyes.

“What about me?” I asked, looking around in the elevator. “I’m a strange body…”

“You would have triggered the alarm, but Dick and Dinah are back already and will have checked it out. With your body scanned in Delphi Oracle can adjust the system and make the changes that are needed.”

My body scanned? The thought made me uncomfortable. “Delphi?” I asked.

“The computer system. It guards the town – it reports all events reported to the police or hospital, or any strange discrepancies in town occurring after nightfall.”

Dis-what…? I thought, but didn’t ask. “Your private guard hound”, I said.

“Exactly”, she said amused as the elevator stopped. “I’m starving”, she added as we left the elevator and I smelt the scent of scrambled eggs and toast, mingled with the scent of fried meat. “Alfred has made night-food.”

“I thought you told him to go home?” I said, seeing Dinah and Dick already at the table in the kitchen, placing food at their plates from the tray beside the table. Alfred stood a couple of steps to the right, looking down at the other two with a satisfied smile.

“Oh”, Batgirl said and removed her mask, looking at me with green, intense eyes. “He never does as I ask him to, anyway.” She smiled softly. “Want some tea, Helena?”

And just like that she was Barbara Gordon again.

“You were awesome!” Dinah said with sparkling eyes, looking directly at me. Barbara sat across me at the table, with Dick on her right and Dinah between her and me on her left. “The way you swung those two by the collar and dropped them – straight in the lap of those three attacking the cops. You saved some lives there.”

“Mmhm…” I said quite embarrassed, noticing Barbara’s slightly amused smile while she listened in on the conversation. She hadn’t said much since we sat down, leaving the talking to Dinah and Nightwing, but the look in her eyes indicated she didn’t miss a thing. Alfred wasn’t around anymore; he had left and finally gone to bed. “You weren’t that bad yourself, kid-o. That telekinesis thing is quite handy.”

“Tell me about it, but I haven’t got the mind-reading under control yet. It just started a few weeks ago and I don’t know when or by what it’s triggered.” Dinah gave me an apologetic look. “That’s why I try avoiding touching people.”

“Right”, I said, remembering she hadn’t extended her hand when we were introduced.

“Did you pick up anything from the ninjas?” Barbara asked, looking at Dinah.

“A little, but mostly shadows. I got the sense they were controlled… like they were the puppets on a string and the marionette-master was hidden someplace in the shadows. I don’t think they knew who created them.”

I glanced at Barbara as she nodded.

“That would make sense”, she said.

Dinah frowned. “There was this one thing, though… I kept seeing some kind of… emblem. A dark shadow, in the shape of a… bird, I think.”

I noticed Barbara stiffen and then she exchanged a quick glance with Dick.

“Oracle…” he said with a worried tone.

“I know”, Barbara said softly.

“What?” Dinah said, but Barbara shook her head.

“I’m not… sure. Not yet. It might be nothing.”

“Oracle”, Dinah pleaded. “You never tell me anything of importance.”

“No?” Barbara arched an eyebrow at the girl. “I just let you stay up way past your bedtime. How many kids your age are allowed running the streets fighting criminals the way you do? You tell me.”

Dinah blushed and glanced at me. “It’s only when we get into a serious fight like this one she lets me stay up past midnight on a school-night”, she said. She made a face. “Sometimes I consider thanking the bad guys for their perfect timing and even ask them to spread the word around town: ‘wait until after midnight for your misdeeds’. It would fully benefit me.”

I grinned at her playful show at indignation.

“Girl – you’re done”, Barbara said and pointed at Dinah’s empty plate. The girl sighed and rose.

“Not fair”, she muttered.

“Oracle?” I asked with an arched eyebrow at Barbara, but she looked at me and shrugged.

“In Batgirl-suit but without mask – Oracle”, Dinah said.

“Or when in glasses”, Dick said, glancing at the woman by his side. “She’s so cute in them.”

“But how do you keep up?” I asked, confused.

“Confu-usi-ing”, Dinah said with a pointed look at Barbara, who waved a hand, brushing off the conversation; I realized I had learned to recognize the gesture as one of her own.

“Never mind, you’ll learn”, she said, looking at me.

“But you?” I said, looking at her. “When are you ever yourself?”

“Me?” She laughed. “I’m always myself.” She winked at me and then gave Dinah a stern look. “Are you still here, pigeon?”

“I’m going, I’m going – I’m gone!” Dinah turned around and disappeared up some stairs in the background I hadn’t noticed before.

“Kids”, Dick said. “Can’t remember we were ever that young. Can you?” He looked at Barbara, who shook her head.

“We weren’t”, she said, suddenly somewhat distracted. “Do you think I sheltered her too much?” she added, looking at Dick. The man shook his head.

“Better that than the alternative”, he said and she nodded.

“She really Black Canary’s daughter?” I asked and Dick nodded.

“Yeah. She was orphaned at the age of nine. Black Canary asked Barbara to raise her if ever anything happened to her.”

“Why?” I asked, looking at Barbara.

“Someone had to, I guess”, Barbara said. “And with Dinah’s telekinesis… Black Canary couldn’t leave her daughter to just anyone. She found out my identity and trusted me to know how to care for her, I guess.”

I looked at Barbara, wondering what a legend like Black Canary had seen in the young woman Barbara must have been at that time to trust her so. “You don’t seem surprised I know who she is?”

“Oh, no. Dinah said Gibson told her he’d talked to you about it.”

“What?” I exclaimed, feeling extremely betrayed.

“Oh, don’t take it personally”, Barbara hurriedly said. “Gibson and Dinah are… close. Real close. He’s like… a brother to her. He wouldn’t keep any secrets from her.” She winked at me. “Even if he has a slight crush on Huntress.”

“Right”, I mumbled, slightly embarrassed by the look she gave me. “Still…” I shook my head in disbelief.

“And then Wade told me someone had asked about Dinah in school, so I figured you were on your way…” Barbara added. I looked questioningly at her.

“Wade Brixton – the guidance counselor at Dinah’s school”, Dick said. “Barbara’s fiancé”, he added with a grin at Barbara.

“What?” I said, completely dumbfounded. “What…?” I repeated, looking at Barbara. “That’s…”

“Amazing? I know.” She smiled sweetly at me. “He’s a real doll.”

I couldn’t believe this. Barbara Gordon – Batgirl – with a man as lame as a guidance counselor? Wade Brixton – I could hardly remember the way he looked, even though I had talked to him almost the same day. He hadn’t made an impression at all with me.

“I was going to say incredulous”, I said dryly.

“I agree”, Dick said. “Wade’s a good man, but he’s just so… ordinary.”

“I would please advice you not to insult my boyfriend, Dicky boy”, Barbara said. “Or – you want to discuss your latest conquests?” she added with a dangerously arched eyebrow. Dick amazingly enough blushed and shook his head.

“Um – I think I’m going to bed as well”, he said as he rose. He grinned at me and winked before leaving the table. “Don’t challenge her – you won’t win”, he added before he was gone.

Barbara shook her head, seeing him disappear in the elevator. “You’ve got a boyfriend?” she asked when the doors closed without moving. I shook my head.

“Not really. I had one, but I’ve been too busy with other things lately.”

“That’s a shame. I know a good guy. Remind me I’ll introduce you to him. I think you’d fit each other perfectly.”

“Save me”, I said, shaking my head. “There’s no time or place for boyfriends in my life. What about you and Dick?” I added. “You ever been a couple?” I asked, studying her. She smiled slightly, but shook her head.

“Actually no – but we’ve slept with each other once.”

I arched an inquiring eyebrow. “You don’t call that being a couple?”

“Well – no.” She finally looked at me, eyeing me closely. “You call yourself a couple with all men you’ve slept with?”

“How’d you know I’ve slept with anyone?” I challenged. “I could be a virgin.”

The thought made her laugh. “You could be. My mistake for being presumptuous.”

I grinned, feeling so relaxed with this woman it was almost scary. She held my gaze and her smile faded slowly.

“I don’t know who killed your mother, Helena”, she suddenly said and I abruptly leaned back in my chair, as if hit. She held on to my gaze. “They never caught him, I know, but there is one suspect…”

“Who?” I instantly leaned forward again, my eyes changing in excitement and anger.

“I can’t tell you at this moment”, she said and I hissed at her, rising from the table. She remained seated, still holding my eyes. There was no fear, no anger, no blame in her look – only gentle understanding. “I will tell you when I know for sure”, she went on. “I’ve been trying to get a lead on this case for years, but it’s complicated…” She hesitated. “I know what I’m going to ask of you is difficult, but… Will you trust me to help find your mother’s killer? Will you trust me when I tell you I won’t hide anything from you when it comes to his or her identity?”

She held my gaze and I saw sadness and pain beneath the tenderness of her deep eyes. I swallowed, not knowing what to say. I sat down.

“I don’t trust easily”, I said. My mother had taught me to trust only her, for the love that bound us together, and when she was gone… “There’s no one in my life I trust, except myself.”

“I know”, she said softly with a slight nod. “I’m only telling you I’ll let you know when I know more about your mother’s killer. I don’t ask anything of you in return.”

I nodded. “I can live with that.” I didn’t want to think about my mother no more – it hurt too much. I averted my eyes from hers – it seemed to me she saw too deeply in my soul; discovering things about me that none seen before. “How come you live here, anyway?” I asked, looking around the place.

Barbara – or Oracle, I was still confounded by that thing – followed my gaze.

“Seven years ago, after the Joker was captured and part of Gotham went down in the big explosion, I asked your father for funds to build a headquarter closer to the city. I chose this spot – from here we have complete control over the whole of Gotham, both the older and the newer parts of town. Bruce always preferred his own Batcave, but occasionally he stayed here as well. We’ve upgraded it through the years, as the technology advanced.”

I nodded. “And no one ever connects you to Batgirl?”

“No. None except Gibson knows who Dinah really is and for the rest of the world she’s a long lost relative to Alfred that I was kind enough to take care of when her parents died. When we move around town at night we try not to move in threesome, but sometimes it’s necessary – as today.”

“So Oracle are you behind the computer, right?”

She smiled. “Right. Batgirl is kind of me when I was Dinah’s age. I was a terrible nuisance”, she added, sharing a smile with me. “Impertinent and arrogant, I was. I’ve got some trouble letting her go”, she added, almost fondly. “I’m actually becoming too old to keep up scaling skyscrapers at night or fighting bad guys…”

“Too old?” I asked doubtfully. What I had seen of her this night ‘old’ wasn’t a word I would use to describe her. I wondered how old she actually was.

“Could you see Barbara Gordon the director of Gordon Technology in a fist fight?” she asked me with an arched eyebrow. I remembered the woman I had met the day before at Gordon Technologies and made a face.

“I wasn’t particularly fond of her”, I said frankly.

She grinned at me. “You’re not particularly fond of Batgirl either”, she said and for some reason that remark made me blush. She shook her head. “Dick and Dinah doesn’t like me either when I run my business, but it’s the way I have to be. It’s another kind of fight going on there and if you’re the least lenient or weak everything you’ve built will crash upon you.”

I nodded, realizing she was right. It didn’t mean I had to like the woman she became when running her business.

“I try spend as little time as possible in my office and more with the real people…”

“You’re more like Oracle then, right?” I asked, beginning to understand something about her, and she gave me a somewhat surprised and appreciating look.

“Right”, she said and before I had time to say another thing she rose. “We have a spare room, if you’d like to stay. It’s next to mine. I’ll show it to you.” She held my gaze, waiting for an answer and before I knew what I was doing I nodded.

“You live here?”

“Yeah, I really do. This place is connected to both my house and my office, so I can come and go as I please. I prefer it here – it’s closer to my real work.”

I watched her as she showed me to the stairs where Dinah had ascended and I realized this was what she lived for. Beneath the glamour of the young woman she once had been and the sharpness of the businesswoman she was there was something that kept Barbara Gordon and all her alias’ going: the good fight. She fights for justice, I thought, following her up the stairs. Just like my father did.

But somehow I felt there was a difference between the way Barbara fought and the way my father had done it. Barbara did what she did because it was the right thing to do – and my father… Even though I didn’t know the first thing about him I got the feeling my father wasn’t a very happy man. I think he fought the good fight and was the good guy because something within him craved him to be. I think that as he fought the criminals of this town he actually fought himself at some levels. Maybe that was why he left when my mother died. He knew he had been to blame and couldn’t face the consequences of his own dark self.

I shivered, thinking that.

We left the stairs and walked through a dark corridor.

“Dinah’s room is on the level below us. Only mine and the guestroom is at this floor”, Barbara said as we halted outside a closed door. She pressed the handle and the door swung open. “This is it. Not much, but at least you’ve got your own bathroom.”

I stepped into the room. It was neither large nor small. Big windows lit the chamber. There was a desk, an empty bookshelf, a wardrobe and a bed and further in there was another door – probably leading to the bathroom.

“My room is further down the hall”, Barbara said and pointed along the corridor. I nodded and noticed a set of clothes and clean towels on the bed.

“Presuming much again?” I said as I realized the clothes were my size; dark jeans and a bluish T-shirt with a red rose on it, and some underwear.

“Just Alfred being the ever practical”, Barbara said lightly. She smiled when I turned around to look at her. “Sleep tight. See you… later today.”

I nodded and she left, leaving the door open.

I looked around the room. It was smaller than my own place, but despite its lack of personal things it somehow felt more like a home to me than the flat above the Dark Horse. I knew why: I was close to her here.

I didn’t know what it was about her that made me feel… at peace, almost. As if my quest to find my mother’s killer wasn’t as important anymore when she was around. When looking into her eyes I felt as if there could be – almost as if there was – another life for me. A life without this emptiness, the mad rage and the hurt.

Remembering my mother reminded me of the one thing I wanted an answer to before I went to sleep and I turned around and left the room.

Barbara’s door was slightly open and I went in without knocking. Her room was larger – she had a lounge with a set of couches, a television and bookshelves. It was dark, but further to the right a door was left ajar and in the soft lights from the room behind the door I watched her pass, completely naked – drying her hair with a large towel. She disappeared behind the door.

My intention was to knock. Later I couldn’t tell why I didn’t. The lights went out the same moment as I pushed the door open and then I heard a clicking sound as I felt the blade of a knife pressed against my throat.

“Don’t move”, I heard a cold voice say and inhaled slowly.

“It’s me”, I said and heard Barbara gasp before she lowered the knife. The lights went back on and I saw her bend to pick up her towel from the floor. Her skin was soft, seeming to be smooth like cream in the pale lights.

We stood in her bedroom.

“Jesus, Helena!” she said when she straightened her back. “You scared the living hell out of me.”

“Me? I scared you?” I snapped. “Fuck – you were the one almost cutting my throat!”

She looked quizzically at me. “I don’t get why you got to be angry. I’m not the one intruding”, she said and I wondered again if she deliberately tried to provoke me.

“I knocked”, I lied flatly. She looked at me and shrugged as she put away the knife on a cupboard close by. To the left a door stood open, showing the interior of a bathroom.

“My apologies then”, she said, draping the towel around her body, but not before I had time to notice the deep, jagged scar in her left side. “I ought to listen better.”

I knew I hadn’t fooled her for a second.

She threw herself on the bed – arms spread wide at either side of her body as she closed her eyes. “What a day”, she sighed. “I’m exhausted and I’ve got to get up in a few hours.”

“Skip work”, I said, still standing in the doorway, looking at her.

“No can do. It’s too important.”

“What’s so important about computer hardware” – or software, what the heck…? – “that you can’t take a day off? You deserve it, if anyone.”

She opened her eyes and sat up, leaning at her elbows and looking at me. “Did you want something in particular, or you just thought you’d drop by to scare me to death?”

“You look very much alive to me”, I said, again flatly. “You really enjoy provoking me, don’t you?” I added as an afterthought.

She tilted her head to one side. “I thought you enjoyed a challenge.”

“Is that what I am to you?” I asked curiously. I just didn’t get this woman.

She smiled and rose. “Why would you be anything to me? I don’t know you.”

She stood in front of the wardrobe along the left side of her bed and let the towel fall to the floor. The gesture – or the sight of her body, more like it – distracted me enough not to rise to her bait. She’s got muscles, I caught myself thinking, letting my eyes linger at her back and her shoulders. Then the sight of her scar shook me out of my reverie.

“Did you save my mother’s life once?” I asked frankly. I remembered Dick’s words: Don’t challenge her – you won’t win. Playing games with this woman wouldn’t get me anywhere. She glanced at me over her shoulder and then pulled a red pair of silk pajama-trousers out of the wardrobe, together with a white sports-bra.

“I did”, she admitted as she dressed. The Barbara Gordon I had met that morning had also responded in earnest when I was straightforward with her. I liked that, I realized. She knew how and when to be serious about things. “You may sit down”, she added, gesturing towards an empty chair close to the bed. She picked a hairbrush from the bathroom as I sat down and then returned to the bed, sitting down cross-legged and brushing her hair before she went on: “It was seven years ago.” She lowered the brush and touched the scar in her side, half hidden by her clothes. “I got this.”

“I’m… sorry”, I said, but she smiled softly at me.

“Don’t be. It was a mild prize to pay, considering.”

“Why – why didn’t I know of this?”

“You were in Europe at the time.”

I nodded, remembering.

“The Joker had been caught, but he still had his… followers on the outside.” Barbara looked down and I realized this was difficult for her to talk about. I was suddenly sorry I had chosen this moment to ask this question – she was obviously tired and she was no meta-human that would heal quickly.

“He ordered one of them to assassinate your mother, to get to your father. The thing was…” She hesitated. “I was chasing this guy for a totally different reason, but knowing he somehow was connected to the Joker… I was lucky that night and caught a trail on him. I got to your mother’s aid just in time. She was making one of her rounds around town late at night when he caught her. I was stupid and careless and he slit my side, but I saved her life.”

“And the assassin? Could it have been him killing my mother?”

“No – he was caught that night. I knocked him senseless and tied him up. Your father brought him to the police – he was wanted for other killings. He did swear he would break free to kill both your mother and me, but he’s been at Arkam Asylum ever since. They call him Clayface and he’s… well, he’s meta, I guess. He’s what you’d call a shapeshifter.”

“He can turn into other people?”

“Something like that.” Barbara nodded. “They have a specialized cage for him at Arkam. It couldn’t have been him.”

“Right.” My mind drifted. “Thank you”, I added, looking at her. She smiled softly at me and I rose to leave.

“Helena”, she said as I moved towards the door. I liked the way she said my real name – when she wasn’t taunting me or calling me kitten.

I turned around. “Yes?”

“I knew of you then”, she said. “Your mother brought me to her home, to tend to my wound. I saw pictures of you.”

It didn’t register at first. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your mother told me about you. When I saw those pictures of you… I knew who you were. Bruce’s daughter.”

“What?” I whispered, making my way back to the bed. “Why…?” I was at loss for words.

“Your mother made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“Shit.” I sat down beside her on the bed. “Why?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Why would she do that? Why would you?” I looked at her, demanding an answer. She hesitated.

“She did what she thought was best for you – as any mother would. She wanted to protect you – and your father, too. His life was just too dangerous to involve a girl… a child.”

“My mother gave up her past life…” I objected. “If she’d told him. If you’d told him… They could have…”

“No. No, it’s not the same.”

“What? Why? Because he fought ‘the good fight’?”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit”, I snapped.

“You don’t understand”, she said softly. “You don’t know what it’s like… Why we do this… What we fight for...”

“No. No, I don’t”, I said angrily. “And I don’t care.”

“That may be as it is, but… Black Canary didn’t give up her way of life and she lived in constant fear of her child – Dinah. She once told me she considered giving Dinah away to foster-parents. I don’t know what made her change her mind about that. She kept Dinah, but she never felt safe, knowing she had a girl to care for. A child that could be orphaned any day… Dinah saw her mother be killed, Helena. She was a child, never understanding what happened.”

I swallowed, thinking of the cheerful, young girl I had seen and what pain she must have gone through. “I…”

“Bruce wouldn’t have given up being Batman for you. Not because he wouldn’t love you enough, but because fighting crime is more than something we do – it’s something we are. Every time he’d end up in a fight he’d think about you – fearing for you. He’d hate himself for the choice he would be forced to make, but he wouldn’t be able to act any differently. That’s why I chose to keep my promise to your mother and not tell him about you. The knowledge of you would be his death in the end, as it would distract him from what he was doing.”

“Now it was my mother’s death”, I said bitterly.

“I am truly sorry”, she said, leaning over and placing a hand on mine. Her touch was gentle, soft. She smelt of lavender soap and… Barbara.

“That’s what you told me back then”, I mumbled, not used to body contact in this way. Whatever man I’d taken to my bed since my mother died hadn’t treated me very gently. I hadn’t let them.

I suddenly remembered Jack. It was ages since I thought about him, I realized distractedly.

“And I meant it.” She watched me until I finally felt compelled to meet her gaze. Her eyes were as gentle as her touch. “There’s more.”

“What?” I said hoarsely, feeling myself drowning in the gentleness of her – in her.

“When your mother died… The same night your father decided to leave… I told him about you.”

“He knows?” I whispered. “He knows – and he left anyway.”

“He had to…”

I pulled away from her and she didn’t prevent me from getting up.

“You are defending him.”

“He was… is, my friend. He couldn’t stay.”

“Not even for me?” I asked coldly.

“He wanted to. Believe me, Helena. He wanted to so badly, but he wasn’t up for it. He was raw, bleeding – like you were last year. Like you are still.”

I held her gaze, looking down at her, not knowing what to think about her speaking of my pain in such a way. As if… As if she knew – me.

“He wouldn’t have been much of a father in his state and you… wouldn’t have been much of a daughter. You would have ended up killing each other.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure she wasn’t wrong, but I was still angry. “It’s not right.”

“Not everything in life is right”, she said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean we can give up trying to do what’s right…”

I turned away from her, not wanting to listen.

“Helena”, she said and I felt a shiver down my spine. “This – our lives, our relationships… they are a mess sometimes, but it doesn’t help closing our hearts to what’s around us…”

And what do you know? I wanted to ask, hurt and angry, but I didn’t. “I… need to think about this”, I said with difficulty. It was too much in too short a time. She didn’t say anything and I moved towards the doorway, where I turned my head and glanced at her worried face. I didn’t like seeing her like that – sad, in pain. I wanted her to smile, so I said: “Those pictures… You didn’t happen to see the one…”

She grinned, as I hoped she would. “Oh, yes. You looked adorable.”

I sighed, remembering my mother’s favorite picture of me: me at the age of six with ice cream smeared in my whole face.

“Your father used to look exactly the same eating ice-cream”, she said.

“Right”, I said doubtfully. The thought of multimillionaire Bruce Wayne with ice cream smeared over the face wasn’t something easily pictured.

“Honestly!” She made a scout sign over her chest. “Swear to God”, she said with this innocent face making me want to laugh.

What a strange woman she is, I caught myself thinking, studying her. She’d thrown me through a whole spectrum of human emotions in the space of an evening. Whatever happened in the next days I doubted I would ever meet anyone like her again. The though of not having her in my life suddenly made me sad.

“Good night, kitten”, she said with a wink. “Close the door behind you, will you? I want to be able to hear if anyone knocks…”

I blushed, but nodded and left, thinking the strangest thought ever: If I were a man she would be the woman I would want to spend the rest of my life with.

PART FOUR

I slept late the next day – or the same day, depending on how one was counting. It was already noon when I strolled into the kitchen in the jeans and the blue and red T-shirt Alfred had left for me in the guestroom. The older man greeted me in the kitchen, but except for him no one else was around. I still wasn’t sure of what Dick Grayson did for a living, but he seemed to have an ordinary life as well.

“Good morning, Miss Helena”, Alfred said. “Should I get you something? Coffee, tea, orange juice?”

“Just point me in the right direction and I’ll see to it myself, Alfred”, I said, greeting him with a smile.

“Oh, the shock of it!” he said, pretending to be insulted. “It’s out of the question, Miss Helena. Sit down and I’ll make you breakfast.”

I realized there was no use arguing the point. “Milk, please”, I said.

“Ah, must be your mother’s genes making themselves known”, he said.

“Ha, ha – funny”, I said dryly.

“I apologize for any insulting remarks an old fool like me could make”, he said. “I was very fond of your mother, mind you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Somehow I would think it a mistake to take you for an old fool, Alfred”, I said as I sat down. He only smiled friendly towards me.

“You don’t say?” he added, in a very British accent that made me smile.

“You met my mother?”

“Yes, yes I did – indeed. A very lovely woman.”

“Yes”, I agreed with a slight, sad nod. “She was.” I watched him as he poured me milk and orange juice, made me scrambled eggs with mushrooms, toast and porridge. “You knew my father quite well, didn’t you?”

“I was… like a father figure”, Alfred said with a slight melancholy note. “Poor Bruce, losing his parents so young.”

I only nodded. I had done my homework quite well in regards to Bruce Wayne and Batman. I had no doubt I knew everything about them that there was to know unless you were as privately involved with them as Alfred, Barbara and Dick. And maybe Dinah, but I doubted she’d had much intimate contact with my father. She seemed closer to Barbara and Dick.

“He is a good man, your father. Few as they come.” Alfred placed the food on different plates on the table and an empty plate before me. “Not all people understood him – he was lonely behind his mask. Both of his masks.”

“You mean he wore one as Bruce Wayne as well?”

“Oh, yes.” Alfred nodded knowingly. “That’s what it’s like, being a living legend. His two faces could never meet, you see. He always had to choose between the one and the other. It takes its toll on a man, living like that. Luckily he had Miss Barbara and Master Dick to balance him. They were quite good for him together.”

Remembering the two of them at the fair, playing at hitting the pyramid, I understood what he meant and nodded. I could believe that.

“He was a man of mysteries, your father.” Alfred smiled at me. “Much like yourself, Miss Helena.”

I blinked. “What – me? No.” I shook my head. “No mysteries there. Only me.” Only anger and rage. Alfred made a tssking sound.

“I beg to differ, Miss Helena. Just beware not to lose yourself amongst the shadows. It’s a dangerous game, the one you and your father are playing.”

“I’m not playing anything. If he wants to hide in the shadows that’s his business. I’m only trying to find someone…”

“Scaring the living daylight out of the lower thugs, so I’ve heard”, Alfred said with a nod. “Even heard the greater fishes are out to get you now.”

“You hear too much to be a butler, Alfred”, I said and he laughed softly.

“Maybe, maybe so.”

We heard the elevator at the same time and turned our heads towards it. It took a couple of seconds before it stopped at the floor below us.

“Miss Barbara usually comes home for lunch”, Alfred said right before the elevator doors opened. “But never on a Tuesday.” He stepped towards the railing, looking down with a slight frown. I remained seated at the table, finishing my breakfast. Alfred had made way too much food – even for me.

“Alfred!” Barbara called from the floor below us as she stepped out of the elevator. I couldn’t see her, but when hearing her voice something in my chest thudded harder. I heard on her steps she was in a rush. “Good to see you, Alfred.”

“You too, Miss Barbara. Is everything…?”

“The dinner, Alfred. I forgot about the damn dinner tonight.”

“Ah”, Alfred said with a smile. I finished my orange juice, listening intently and with interest. “The gala for the mayor’s birthday. Did I forget to remind you, Miss Barbara?”

“I’m sure you didn’t”, I heard her say and grinned when I noted the slight aggravated tone, “so stop sounding so apologetic.”

Alfred grinned too, winking at me. Apparently Barbara was looking in another direction.

“Is Helena still here?”

“Oh, yes – she is.”

I rose and went to the railing as Alfred stepped back.

“Hi”, I said, looking down at her. She was dressed in a black suit and looked amazing with her red hair pulled back in a loose tail. She looked up somewhat startled, standing by the computer system (Delphi – or whatever).

“Oh, hey”, she said. She stood watching me for a second and I became uncomfortable with the scrutiny, not sure what to make of it. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Alfred made me some breakfast, but it’s enough for that ninja-company we run into yesterday. There’s more. Want some?”

She smiled and my heart lifted immediately. “Yes, please.” She ascended the stairs, still talking. “I only came home to snatch a couple of hours sleep.” She tilted her head to one side as she reached the top of the stairs, watching me again. “Slept well?” she asked gently and I nodded.

“No nightmares about identical multiple twins in black ninja suits”, I said.

“None about killing me in my sleep either, I hope?” she asked in a low voice with a swift glance at Alfred in the kitchen. I shook my head.

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. Last nights conversation was still fresh in my mind, but I didn’t know what to make of it yet. Things seemed to happen too much too quickly and I had decided I was going along with it so far – to see where it took me. I figured I could always make a break at it later on and run if it seemed too… unhealthy. “No.”

“Good”, she said with a smile and moved to the kitchen table.

“Busy day?” Alfred asked, pouring some tea for Barbara and placing it on the table opposite my seat. I sat down with her.

“God – yes!” She glanced at the table and snatched my plate from beneath me. “Don’t mind, do you?” she asked as she filled it with scrambled eggs and mushrooms. I shook my head and watched her with an amused smile as she ate.

“This Mr. Boyd making trouble again?” Alfred asked, making conversation.

“Loads”, she said with her mouth full. She chewed, drank and continued: “He lured Greg Taylor into a deal he was in no authority to make and now wants to sue me for breach of contract.”

“Shouldn’t Mr. Taylor get the blame for this?” Alfred asked.

“Greg is a good man – I won’t throw him to the fishes for one mistake. Dick’s on to it. He found some old cases with similar dilemmas and thinks he can work around the problem. But he said it will cost us a lot.”

“Always does”, Alfred said sadly, but Barbara shrugged.

“It’s only money. I prefer this battle – no cost of actual lives.”

Dick? I thought. A lawyer? Go figure.

Barbara finished her tea in a rush, her plate already empty, and stood up. She flashed me a quick smile. “Sorry I didn’t get time to speak to you, but need to get some hours sleep before next meeting. You can watch the gala with Dick and Dinah from Delphi tonight.” She made a face. “It’s bound to be boring, but you never know. See you later.”

And then she was gone again.

“Always on the run somewhere, that one”, Alfred said lowly at my side as we watched Barbara disappear up the stairs. I didn’t argue with him on that one.

Later that day the old man showed me the entrance to the Clocktower. It was lodged to Barbara Gordon’s house and from the outside it seemed to be a backyard entrance to her place. The thing was – the outer door leading in to the hallway ended quite abruptly. Then you had two options: to get through the massive oak- and steel reinforced door in front of you – leading to the rest of Barbara Gordon’s house – or to find the secret entrance to the Clocktower. To find the secret entrance you needed three things: a code, an entrance clearing and to know where and how to use your code and the clearing.

When in the hallway you needed to find a certain panel in the wall, press it softly and it would slide aside, revealing a small, embedded disk with numbers and a mirror. You had to press the right code and to press your hand on the mirror. Doing so the wall behind you would slide away, giving entrance to a short tunnel protected by steel walls. The tunnel ended in another wall – steel enforced. You had to repeat the procedure from before to get the wall to slide to one side and reveal the elevator.

“It’s a fucking fortress, this place!” I said as I’d gone through the procedure.

“That’s the whole point, Miss Helena”, Alfred said, slightly affronted. It took awhile before I realized he reacted to me swearing.

“Um, sorry”, I said, belatedly.

“Miss Barbara told me this morning she had programmed the mirror to acknowledge your handprint”, Alfred added. “She picked up your handprint from the elevator-ride you did with her yesterday. Apparently you leaned on something.” He blinked innocently at me. “The code I just gave you is the one assuring your entrance. Remember it and never tell anyone about it. It’s a great responsibility.”

I shook my head. “I won’t tell”, I said, sure I would carry Barbara’s secret with me to the grave.

“Good.” He smiled at me. “Then you’re welcome at any time, Miss Helena. You don’t have to call before… and you most certainly don’t have to use the window entrance.”

“I might anyway”, I said with a wink. “It’s more fun that way.”

I went back to my apartment above the Dark Horse and looked around in the gloomy room. Nothing in there felt like mine. The wallpaper was torn, the sink was leaking, the fridge smelled and cockroaches seemed more attached to the place than I. The previous inhabitant had been a drunkard and died suffocating in his own bed. I had gotten the room cheap. There was another apartment right next to mine that was larger and in much better shape. If I had been the least interested in my life the last eight months I would have chosen that one, but as it was… When I traded my spacious, almost luxurious two-room apartment at the outskirts of the University Campus for this one I would have accepted a newly dug grave as my lodge.

“Shit”, I mumbled as I realized I would never want Barbara Gordon to walk in through that door seeing my place like this. Maybe she was right in what she said that night, when she was Batgirl. There were better places to spend your life than in shadows and dark alleys.

Maybe I ought to fix it up? I thought and looked around. Some new wallpapers or paint, new floor instead of the seemingly always damp carpet… some cleaning up and food in the fridge. Even if it was small it had potential. I decided I was going to do it. It was time for a change in my life – it didn’t mean I would forget about my mother or the way she had died.

I spend the day cleaning up as far as it was possible and that in itself seemed to make the place a less dark space; the windows really needed a cleaning.

At twilit I returned to the Clocktower, where I found Dick and Dinah watching the screens above Oracle’