Late-night city sounds drift up to the rooftops like smoke: People in arguments slamming apartment doors and yelling through windows into the street—totally oblivious to the three women who protect them. Huntress scanned the street below from the flying buttress of the old Episcopal church. She was a mile away from the bay, along the stretch that was once the industry district... twelve years ago and before the earthquake that devastated it. Now, a more appropriate title would have been drug district.

And wherever there were people in a position to be taken advantage of, there was always someone a little stronger and more cunning to take advantage of them. Helena ran into a gang—merely a pain, ordinarily—with switchblades—bordering on pain in the ass, during her sweep last night. Huntress was here checking the area again, under the pretense that she had missed some. And the fact that Oracle didn't have the New Gotham PD tapped yet. Apparently, criminals had the entire week off. Funny, how they get the week off. And we don't, Helena thought irritatedly, I get to bar-tend.

A car horn blew—drowning out the passionate cries of the couple in the nearest motel. Braked squealed as a driver stepped on the pedal, followed closely by the unnerving sound of a two-ton car skidding easily on its tires. Huntress peered into the street.

Two vehicles, a run-down black Cadillac and a red-rusted-to-brown Chevy were blocking the road. Both had freshly mangled bumpers.

On the buttress, Huntress watched with mild amusement. If things escalated beyond cat-fight, she would have an excuse to intervene, read something to do.

The heavy-set chevy driver got out and slammed his door shut in a rage. In the Cadillac, the driver watched warily—his gleaming, perfectly slicked-back hair a stark contrast with his Cadillac's dark, dirty, and disorganized interior. Slick-Hair cautiously opened his door as the older and more powerful man approached. From her perch, their words were indistinct to Huntress. The glares, however, were understandable even with the distance. Huntress noted, with some disappointment, that the accident had placed the vehicles so they naturally formed a barrier.

A barrier that wasn't unappreciated by Slick-Hair as he cowered beside his car.

:Huntress.:

"Here, Oracle." Huntress absently touched her earring communicator. Watching the accident out of the corner of her eye, she scanned the next block over. "Please tell me through some stroke of luck you found something." She turned back to the street below her. The chevy-driver was gesturing wildly up and down the street. Brief snippets of the discussion drifted up to Huntress. Apparently, he was lecturing Slick-Hair on proper driving. She turned her attention back to her mentor with desperation. "'Cause this is getting ridiculous."

:Sorry, we're in the dark until Delphi is plugged into the police scanner.:

"This was a novelty at first. A challenge," Barbara heard rapic footsteps and the rustling of Helena's trench coat. Without warning, the foosteps fell away; static, actually wind disturbance picked up by the microphone, vibrated from the sound system. Bemused, Oracle shook her head, the young vigilante hadn't so much as paused while jumping from building to building. "But now?" Huntress continued. "A frustrating... mess."

Huntress sauntered to the ledge of the new roof to peer into the local pawnshop. Quiet and empty. i>Damn

:Yeah, things are gonna be hard for awhile. A lot of priceless stuff was destroyed....: In the Clocktower there was a soft, electronic beep. A message-window blinked incessantly on a small computer screen, demanding attention. It had taken every day of the past week to get things running semi-smoothly again in the control room. Every member of the small team had been involved in the daily process of removing cracked and useless computer monitor, slashed furniture and various scanners with fried electrical systems.

On the ledge, Helena winced. Shit. "Barbara, I-"

:Huntress, let's not talk about it right now.: Oracle said stiffly. :I have a call reporting a domestic disturbance at Fenders. One of the patrons had a little too much to drink, seems he's reventillating his car.:

"Could be someone I know." Huntress said jokingly. She was relieved when Oracle snorted, amused.

:I stand corrected, bartending fits you perfectly.:

"I'm touched by your sincerity." Huntress tapped her foot impatiently. "So, where's this bar? Don't want it to end before I show up." In the street below, a cop car cruised alongside the accident.

:It's on the corner of Mangrove.:

"That's over two miles from where I am." Huntress said, surprisingly calm She looked skyward. "And it's going to pour any minute!"

:I thought you were desperate. Change your mind?:

Huntress sighed. "I'm on my way, Huntress out." She stood and casually stepped off her ledge. Helena landed lightly, her knees bent to absorb the shock and coat billowing around her. Her eyes changed briefly—feline and back to human—then she was out off her crouch and racing across the dark rooftop toward Mangrove.

Five stories below and two blocks ahead a second-story door opened. The two men quickly stepped down the double flight of stairs leading to the street. Their features were hidden, but they both wore the common attire of jeans and a dark jacket.

Across the street, Huntress paused on a tall apartment complex and briefly glanced at them. They don't say a word to each other and skirted the occasional pothole and trash pile with familiar ease. They walked like they had no where to go. It wasn't unusual, and Huntress was about to jump when she realised her eyes had become completely feline. She stopped, her instincts had saved her countless time and now didn't seem like a good time to ignore them.

The cop car from earlier approached--Helena couldn't resist a grin when she saw the chevy-driver slouched in the back--she turned back around and found the men too casually concealed in the shadows. They were having a relaxed discussion, but Huntress could see their too tense smiles and the way their eyes nervously followed the flasing lights down the street and around the corner. Huntress smiled encouragingsly, in more earnest than they showed. She turned on her heels and headed trowards them. Within a few minutes, she was crouched above them on a window ledge.

"Huntress?" Barbara asked through the earpiece, concerned when Helena started in the wrong direction, when she knew the city as well as her own face. "What's going on?"

Huntress watched them for a couple seconds before answering. They were having a heated converstaion amoung themselves. "I found some possibilities."

"Possibilities? You sound like you're trying to decide on a pair of boots." Oracle's disbeilieving voice commented. Great. I love being her sole source of amusement, Helena thought, her delight at having found a play thing at last hardly dampened.

"Are they doing anything, Huntress?" Oracle asked, tone only slightly more serious.

"Implying that I randomly selected men to pummel?" Huntress asked as she dropped onto a ledge a couple of feet lower. Below her the two men continued their argument, oblivious of their eavesdropper.

"Are they doing anything?" Oracle asked again slowly.

"They were headed somewhere when a cop drove by, they almost took off into the nearest alley. Not a criminal offense I know, but I just have this feeling." Huntress caught a glimpse of metal under a jacket. "Oh, look! They have a gun. Don't they know those are dangerous?" She said mockingly.

"What about Fenders?" Oracle asked when she sensed Huntress start to get out of control. She thought about the last time she had almost lost control.

Huntress quickly dismissed it, unaware of Barbara's introspection. "There's probably a cop they by now. I hate getting to the party late."

"You can't go around stalking people because you feel they look shifty." Oracle tried to reason with her.

Helena was getting impatient. "Look Oracle, this is what my instincts are telling me. I don't blame if you don't believe me, but I'm gonna follow them either way."

"Damn it, Huntress." Oracle muttered, she rested her forehead on her hand, well aware the headstrong young woman was no longer listening.

"What's Helena doing?" A voice asked behind her.

Barbara started in surprise then turned around at Dinah's hoarse voice. "Following two unknown mean armed with guns." She held her hand up and vaguely twirled it. The movement, meant to express mild irritation, was rigid with frustration. Barbara quicly lowered her hand and looked at Dinah critically. "You should be resting."

"I have been! You heard Alfred this morning, it was ridiculous! You wouldn't believe me if I said how much of his chicken soup I'de eaten today." Dinah countered hurriedly. Barbara wheeled over and felt Dinah's forehead with the back of her hand.

"Fever's down. How do you feel?"

"Like I was run over by the Hummer."

Oracle raised her eyebrows at Dinah's exagerration. :Dinah's up finally? You were asleep for hours earlier kid.: Dinah made a face, thankful for the unexpectedally and irritated by kid.

:Hey, O. We might have a problem.:

Barbara swung away from Dinah, listening to her protege and adjusting the volume. "Huntress? what kind of problem?" Barbara brought up the map displaying Huntress tracking device, she had only traveled a block or so. "There's nothing in that part of town. What are they doing?"

Huntress shifted her weight on a delapidated diner, watching the two men. After carefully looking around, they disappeared into an inconspicous doorway. Behind them the door lazily swung in the wind. "They went underground, into old Gotham." Huntress said angrily.