Author's Notes: This exists solely because I was trying to actually write an original story, but for some reason could not get Birds of Prey out of my head during my writing. I just kept on thinking about the character's, specifically the Birds, and what would have made a second season awesome. And how underused Barbara was. So this is what came of it. There will probably be a second part, because I already have it in my head. And it will probably be a lot darker than the show ever was.
It also might share a bit more in common with the comics, specifically the adding of characters to Gotham City. So it's of mix of both the show and the comics. Enjoy.
As the Bird Flies, part 1
Barbara Gordon was cold and frustrated, neither could be helped at the
moment. She was cold because there was a giant hole in her Clocktower where
the face had been before she and her ward had crashed through it. She was
frustrated because even though she and her team had won the battle she knew
her problems were far from over.
She sighed deeply as she surveyed the once pristine lair that now lay in
disarray. They couldn't stay here at the moment. While the city itself was
not a problem, the riots had extended the damage to property far beyond her
tower and because the building was owned by Wayne Enterprises the city would
in no way be involved in the repairs.
Barbara sat facing the screen of one of her many computers and her hands
expertly utilized the keyboard as she forced her way into Arkham Asylum's
secure server and from there to their security feeds. Dr. Harleen Quinzel
was currently residing in cell 143F, one of the many cells used to house
recently acquired inmates. According to her sources and the video feed
itself the doctor had been tight lipped since her arrival to hospital.
Barbara had no idea whether she would stay that way, but never the less,
even if she didn't talk to the police or the doctors Barbara knew the woman
was intelligent enough to get messages out of the asylum. As a result at
any moment scores of the criminal element could easily find them. Or the
police. She'd want vengeance. Barbara was certain of that.
The phone on a nearby desk began ringing, forcing Barbara's attention
elsewhere. She stared at the phone as it rang, making no effort to answer
it. She didn't quite feel in the mood for chatting and anyone currently
important had other means to contact her. After the eighth ring voicemail
picked up, and Barbara heard her own voice requesting a message and a long
beep. She assumed it would be a message from the Principal from the High
School, either needing a teacher for some class, or perhaps calling to
inform her of the damage to the school. She was wrong.
"Barbara," a man's voice, deep and concerned. "It's Dick." Barbara rolled
her eyes...she knew that and he knew that she knew. "I saw the news and was
calling to make sure you're okay." She scoffed, she wasn't but he had no
way to know that. "I'm coming into the city in a few days I thought maybe
we could have dinner...let me know, okay?" Another beep signified the end
of the message.
Yeah, that's what she'd do. She'd go out bang her ex boyfriend to try to
forget about her dead one. She bit her lip, unintentionally recalling the
discovery of his body on the floor of her bedroom. Limbs broken from being
dragged carelessly. Deep breaths forced her to keep her composure.
Then a spark went off somewhere in her brain as an idea began to form. She
moved her chair towards the phone and picked it up, dialling a number
memorized years ago and waited. He answered on the third ring.
"Alfred, I need you to come over," she said quickly and he responded. "Yes,
I'm aware it's late, we've always been a fly by night operation." A few
words were said on the butler's end of the line. And then he hung up
without saying any parting words. Barbara couldn't fault him for that; most
people didn't enjoy 2:30 am phone calls from obsessive redheads. She hung
up the phone and offered a glance around the tower again. She didn't have a
lot of time.
An hour and a half later, with the help from her former mentor's loyal
butler she was there. A place she had never thought she'd be in again.
Though, desperate times did cause for desperate measures. Helena wouldn't
be happy, but they would all be safer. At least for the time being.
Alfred had agreed to wait at the Clocktower, in order to bring Dinah and
Helena back to the manor. It served Barbara's interest well. She wanted to
be the first to enter. Alone. She had no doubt that Alfred was well aware
of this, which if perhaps why he agreed to go collect the others. In the
main study she couldn't help but notice that the Manor was still as spotless
as it had been the day Bruce had left. Nothing had changed in the least.
And Barbara wondered briefly whether there had been any changes to the main
areas of the house since the night Martha and Thomas Wayne were murdered.
She moved herself into a position near the grandfather clock and had to
struggle to move the hands of the clock to the designated place, 8:15. The
hands sunk into the face as the clock itself as the huge piece moved itself
to the side, allowing the former Batgirl entrance. She rolled herself into
the secret passage stopping after the clock had retaken its place.
Stairs, she had forgotten about that. She sighed again for what seemed to
her to be the thousandth time that night and was getting ready to exit the
passage the way she came when the lights above her activated due to her
presence.
The passage had been widened since her last visit to the house...the stairs
were there, however next to them was a ramp. Steep but still navigable.
She chose the ramp and for the first time during the night she smiled.
The trip took less time than it would have had she been using her legs and not a motorized wheel chair, an upside she hadn't really thought of before. As she reached the end of the ramp the lights in the cave activated one after another, starting with the display case against the room where Barbara's eyes automatically wandered.
A memorial of sorts for them...for the service they had provided the city for a generation. Costume's on mannequins, sewn and patched back together to create a lasting icon. Something tangible...to prove that they existed. Even if no one knew about it. Her eyes darted from one case to another, containing various incarnations of Batman's and Robin's costume and she paused briefly to look at a case displaying her first costume and cowl. When she forced her attention away she realized that it was not just ramp. Someone had actually made the cave entirely wheel chair accessible.
"Bruce," she said softly to herself. It was certainly possibly that it was Dick, Alfred or Tim that made the changes. But her money was on Bruce. The others would have told her, but Bruce...always cared a lot more than he would ever let anyone know.
She made her way to the center of the room to the computer. The keyboard was void of dust which led to the idea that Alfred still kept the cave in working order...whether as a memorial, or a contingency she had no way of knowing.
The Batcomputer was just as fast as ever and upon activation took less then thirty seconds to completely boot up. Barbara got into work mode almost immediately and began rerouting her satellite and the entirety of her Clocktower systems to the cave when the sound of the door in the distance told her that she was no longer alone in the Batcave. For a fleeting second she thought it might have been Bruce but instead the voice of his daughter rang out in the silence of the cave.
"Barbara!"
Moments later Helena Kyle appeared in what her generation considered the garb of a vigilante. She looked less than pleased, which Barbara determined was due to the fact that she had left the Clocktower and moved their operation to her father's lair without so much of a conversation.
"Look, Helena, I know you don't like the idea of him, but this isn't a permanent solution. It'll be just until-," she stopped midsentence upon noticing the look on her face. "What's wrong?"
Helena moved over to the computer Barbara currently sat in front of. "It's Dinah."