I never really though that after everything that I've gone through, that I'd be sitting on top of Wayne Enterprises. Okay, maybe it's more like swinging my legs back and forth from sixty stories up, but it's still strange that I'm here of all places.

It's actually kind of fun, so I guess I can see why Goldie and Bats like staking out up here. It's a nice view of Gotham City, which is kind of hard to see some days. But, it's New Years Eve, and the light show from the fireworks is pretty nice to watch.

A cool breeze flows by, and my black curls annoyingly brush my face. I push them behind my ears, but they only come flying back out. Sometimes I have to wonder why I don't just cut all of my hair off, but then I remember that it's the only thing that distinguishes myself as a girl in my uniform. I quickly pull out my hair band, and wrap it around my neck to tug it around the top of my head.

I've always been rather proud of my suit. That's random but I mean I look sexy as hell in it. It shocks a lot of people when they actually see that I'm not some girl that is doing this for kicks. Okay, I do have some fun with this, but that's not the point. The point is, is that I feel confident in what I'm wearing. It's any girl's favorite part of fashion. Even I can say that's right.

My black knee-high boots are over a gray pair of combat pants along with black Kevlar long sleeve under a leather motorcycle jacket. I can move freely, and it's comfortable.

Though, I should probably also note the red helmet that I also wear over my mask. It's the symbol of my name, Red Hood, for obvious reasons. I pat the helmet sitting next to me, and grin. It's gotten me through some tight spots because of the high tech computer inside of it along with a gas mask built into it.

My eye catches sight of a young girl being pushed into an alleyway, and I put on my helmet. I pull out my grappling hook from my utility belt to launch myself to the closest building. I run across the roof, and watch the group that had shoved her into the wall. One of them has a knife in their hands, and another has a crow bar.

I grit my teeth, but leap off of the roof, and land right on top of the criminal. He falls down to the ground, and I kick the weapon away from his reach.

"Eh?" The other two look over at their unconscious friend a bit too late, and I kick the closest one off balance. All right! One left.

This guy decides to pull out a gun, and I can't help but snort. "Are you kidding me?" I easily dodge his shots as I remember having to avoid worse than a measly pistol. I grab the gun out of his hand, and hit him in the chin with the butt of it before ramming my shoulder into his abdomen. "That was pathetic."

I look towards the young girl that was staring up at me with wide eyes. I'm not a Martian, but even I could tell that she was conflicted between her admiration and fear of me. I can't blame her. Watching someone knock three guys out can be pretty intimidating to someone as young as she is. She must be no older than thirteen.

Of course, I was out fighting criminals even before I was that age. Ha! Maybe that's why I turned out the way that I am.

I bend down a little bit as I take off my helmet, and I smile at her. "Hi. I'm not here to hurt you." These are the moments when a mask is better than the helmet. It doesn't scare off the young kids when they see that I'm actually a normal human being. They don't need to be even more terrified after witnessing this. "What's your name?"

"C-Clara." The girl tells me obediently.

"Do you have a cell phone?" I ask, and she pulls one out from her pocket. "Good. You should call 911 so the police can make sure that these guys never hurt anyone else again. Okay?" She nods her head, and I chuckle as I ruffle the top of her brunette hair. "You're a tough one, and don't hide that part of you. That'll save you some day if I'm not around to kick some butt for you."

She blushes a little bit from the compliment, and I put on my helmet. "Stay safe, Clara." I shoot the grappling gun at the roof before shooting through the air.

I watch the police pick up her and the criminals from the top of Wayne Industries. Well, at least I can say that I saved someone in Gotham City on New Year's Eve.

The Bat would probably be happy to not have to add three names to my list of kills. I doubt that he cares anymore though; since I'm just that one kid in the family that everyone avoids talking about.

Someone suddenly straps something on top of my head, and I react immediately, by hitting them hard in their sensitive area. Aka, their balls. "Yow! Jay!"

I purse my lips together when I realize that it's Goldie. I should probably say Nightwing, but Golden Boy deserves a better nickname. Besides, everyone understands whom I'm talking about when I call him that. He's like the Golden Boy of Golden Boys. "Oops, did I hit you there? I'm sorry. I thought you were a girl, Dickie bird."

That's another one of my nicknames. You see, he's got a secret identity like me. He's not always Nightwing. If he were, people would think Dick Grayson was suicidal because of how many times he was jumping off buildings. And yes, that's his name: Dick Grayson. I'm not the one who gave it to him, but whoever took Dick from Richard must have been seriously high.

The acrobat limps to the side of the building next to me while holding his 'man' area. "I wanted to say happy New Years." He grumbles, and a feeling of pity and regret suddenly appear in my gut.

I pull off the party hat that he had put on me, and I snap it onto his head. "Happy New Years!"

"I forgot about your sensational way of sharing compassion." Goldie smiles at me with a wink, and I roll my eyes. Compassion? Oh please. He's kidding right? "You haven't been in Gotham for quite awhile."

"I've been busy." I turn my attention away from the hero, and watch the cars driving on the road below us. "I'm a bit surprised that you're not out with the other Batboys."

"Batman and Robin are taking care of everything along with the Batgirls, Red Robin and the Titans." Ah, yes, that's the beauty of having a whole family of superheroes in one city. It's easier to slack off on some nights. But, it's also difficult because this is Gotham. 'Crime never sleeps' here is a literal meaning in this waste of a city. I can't believe anyone even wants to live here still.

Even with the help, that still doesn't explain the other reason why Dick is here. I twirl my helmet on my finger while I ask him that.

"I told you, I wanted to say happy new years!" He exclaims, sounding like he got hit in the balls again. "What else would-"

"Please shut up." I stop the helmet, and put it on my head. "I've got business here that I need to take care of, and you're wasting my time."

I get up, but Dick grabs my hand. I glance back at him, slightly surprised by this. His shaggy but handsome dark ebony black hair is hiding his facial features as he looks down. His gloved hand is strong and large compared to my smaller hand. I should kill him for touching me like this, but that would make me a target to every hero in the city. And, I've already got enough problems already.

"Don't go after the Joker, please." Dick says, his voice taking on that renowned worried and serious tone of his. "I know that you know about his recent break out of Arkham, and the fact that he always has a special crime planned for New Years. We've got it covered, just like we always do."

I snort, and shove his hand off of mine before pulling out one of my guns from the holster on my hip. I point it towards his head, threatening him, without telling him that the safety is on. "Oh yeah, just like always. I do remember a certain Bat family about to get boiled in a pot of acid with an unconscious Batman, until I came along, and saved all your asses." I should have, could have I mean, left them to die that night but I guess the festivity of the new year had gotten to me.

"And we thank you for that, but Bruce has intel that this Joker's preparing for you, specifically, this year."

"Oh boy! I'm so scared!" The sarcasm is practically bleeding out of my voice, yet it felt like the truth.

Why would a psycho clown scare the bajeezus out of me, the Red Hood? Okay, I'm not telling Goldie or the other Bats that, since that would ruin my bad reputation with them.

You see, I've been avoiding thinking about this one part of me that I honestly can't deny that is a part of myself. I know, this sounds so cliche, it's making me cringe too, but that statement is true.

I was once Robin, or the second one after Goldie. Yeah, I was the Boy Wonder, or maybe I should say Girl Wonder. No one saw me as a girl because of my short hair then and lack of a chest. I never tried to correct them, and Batman, yes the Batman, would lead them to thinking that I'm the same Boy Wonder that he's always had to protect my identity.

How did I get stuck as being the Robin to the Batman? It's not a happy story, I can tell you that. But it's New Years, and isn't that a time for reflection? My entire existence is based on the past, just like anyone else's, but mine's better. I promise that I'm not a confident naive ass like Goldie can be, but I've got one hell of a unique back story.

My real name is Jane Todd, the daughter of Catherine and Willis Todd. We lived in the slums of Gotham City, so it's not much of a surprise that they met Death when I was just a little kid. I lived on the streets, and fended for myself by stealing and fighting to live. I've heard a few people say that I grew up too early, but in Gotham, early is never early enough.

I'm not exactly sure what drove me to steal the tires on the Batmobile, but it was definitely a stupid move, anyone could see that. And, somehow, that led to me being the adopted son of the rich player, Bruce Wayne, otherwise known as the Batman. After being Robin, I can say that he stalked me for a while before that. I should have run away before I made the connection, and he showed me the Bat Cave under Wayne Manor.

Bruce and Dick had given me their blessing to wear that famous, overly bright leotard that the last Robin (ahem, Goldie) wore. I was in my preteens, and I was out dodging bullets and taking out the bad guys almost every night.

And then the Joker had to get smart. Or, smarter I guess. Batman and I were taking him down during one of his many crimes, but this one turned out a bit different from how we usually defeat that blasted clown.

Dick suddenly taps the face of my helmet. "Hey, Jay? Are you in there?" I blink a few times as I remember that I'm not alone up here. Okay, maybe reflections aren't a good thing for me.

I put the gun that was still pointed at him back into the holster, and take a few steps back from him. "Whatever you do, Goldie, don't get in my way tonight."