It hadn't rained for two days, but in this city there was always a dampness in the air, as if a storm was creeping up behind you. The breeze was chilled, not uncommon for a September evening but certainly not welcomed while she crouched on the rooftop of an apartment building. She peaked down behind her; seven stories did not seem that far to climb up, but the drop down would be much faster. Her right shoulder and hip hugged the edge of a rusted vent unit as she strained to hear two boys arguing over some trivial detail as to who would tell their boss about the botched drop. Stupid thugs, she thought. It won't matter after I string you up for the cops to find.

She waited, impatiently, for their boss to arrive. Although she wasn't sure if he would be coming to them, or they leaving to go to him. She had a hunch of the former, otherwise why the rooftop meet-up, yet stayed poised to lunge in case they started to move.

When the chatter between the young boys subsided into a thorough description of Tiffany's fine ass, she slumped down a little, dejected slightly of the crude and unimaginative way they emphasized their desire for said Tiffany. Barbara felt an urge to tap her foot out of frustration with the long wait for some action tonight.

Instead, taking a deep breath to relax her nerves, she focused on the sounds around her.

To the left of her, two pigeons landed on the roof, one splashing in a puddle, thwipping it's wings into the murky water, while the other pecked lightly at the ground, mistaking gravel for seed. Idiot. On the next roof over, just over six feet away, a dilapidated flag softly flapped in the breeze. The metal ring clanging continuously, once every 4 seconds. On the floor below her, a window opened slowly. Barbara could tell it was original to the century old building as the wood frame of the window resisted movement against the wood trim. Soft, soothing humming drifted out from inside the apartment, mixed with the faint smell of Indian take out.

Great. Now she was hungry.

A phone buzzed. Her attention was quickly refocused. The smaller of the two boys reached in to his back pocket, pulling out the blue screen.

"Not tonight," he read.

"Seriously?" The bigger one looked pissed. Like he would much rather have been shot down by Tiffany at the bar across town then get stood up by boss man. At least then he'd have a drink.

"Let's go."

Damn! No lead. No bigger fish. But two guppies would have to do for tonight. She reached for her phone, texting the address to her contact at GCPD. As soon as her finger hit send she heard his deep, yet playful voice address the boys to her left.

"Hey fellas! Sorry I'm not who you were expecting, but we can still have some fun, right?"

How dare he swipe my collar? I've had to sit through their tripe for the past 24 minutes and you just swoop in and think you get all the credit? Barbara stood from her crouched position, pins tingling her right foot as the blood flowed back through her whole body. She stood just in time to see the raven haired man blocking a sloppy punch from the larger thug. He grabbed the thug's right wrist with his left hand, pivoting so his back was facing his attacker and flipped the 280-lbs man over his shoulder, landing hard on the asphalt roof. Easy take down for him, but as he was dancing with his rotund partner, the other kid was sprinting to the edge of the roof. Barbara starred as she thought of his choices. Obviously running away from the masked man was the right choice, but he was also running away from her, and the fire escape was directly behind her. She watched, confused, as he put one foot on the edge, then leapt off the roof, straining to cling to the next building's ledge, a good foot higher. He pulled himself up swiftly, swinging his right leg over the ledge. This guy had guts. And a huge desire to avoid jail time.

Since the boy wonder was distracted hogtying his captive, he only realized Barbara was there when she dashed passed him, chasing the other thug he hadn't got to yet. He watched as she gracefully bounded from one roof to the next, a smirk danced on his lips.

"Hey-" the tied up man tried to get his attention, but he hit him across the temple, knocking him unconscious.

Two can play at this game, he thought, as he started running in the direction of the streak of red hair.

Even at her full speed she wasn't catching up to this guy. He was climbing further up to higher buildings, leaping from one ledge to the fire escape on the next building, climbing like his life depended on this intense game of tag. Well, she supposed it did. She was matching him step for step, but his head start made it almost impossible for her to reach him. Finally, he stopped. No more buildings to leap to. They were high above Rochester St, the bustling four lane street smack in the middle of downtown.

"Just stop, dude," she shouted at him from across the roof. A few seconds later the raven man climbed up next to Barbara.

"Now it's two against one," he chimed in. She rolled her eyes. He always had to say some quip, something catchy. Barbara stared at him as he took a step towards her perp. At the same time, in her peripheral she saw thug number one disappear off the side of the roof. Boy wonder froze, eyes wide, not quite believing the guy would rather die than spend a couple nights locked up.

Barbara's instinct, however, was to run. Her feet sprinted from the opposite side of the pavement, across the twenty feet until she leapt off the same spot he did. Ridiculous, but as she fell from the fifteen or so stories, she grabbed the gun from her hip, pointed the spot her feet had just pounced off, and shot a hook out so that her plummeting momentum changed into a forward swing once the claw attached itself to the roof. She had slightly less rope than necessary to get all the way to the street. Letting go, she dropped to the ground running, slamming in to a parked car to stop her speed. She looked around, seeing if she could see where her assailant had landed. Two cars back from where she was propping herself up, a car was crinkled under the weight of the roof runner. She saw a stream of blood trickle down the car into the gutter as she approached the body. Nothing more she could do, she reached in to his back pocket, and found his phone. Screen cracked into a hundred fragments, case split in two, and wouldn't turn on. Completely busted. But not a bust. She tucked it behind her belt on her lower back and turned from the body. This kid was scared. And she was determined to find out who scared him. She moved down a nearby alleyway, back towards 73rd St as red and blue lights flashed behind her.

Time to hack a phone.