At about ten o'clock, Barbara came into my room. I had left the door ajar on purpose; I wanted to give her the opportunity to talk about what had happened when she was ready without feeling like I was angry at her. "You know, when I need to blow of some steam, I go to the gym down the block." I couldn't help but think of how peculiar it was for that to be her first sentence to me since our fight, but I went with it. I got out of bed and walked over to her. "Is this an invitation?" I asked. She nodded, and then finally addressed our argument. "I'm sorry I hid all of this stuff from you, Claire. It's just that, well, I really didn't want to worry anyone. My dad doesn't even know about this all. He thinks I'm just living in the Clocktower because it's wheelchair-accessible and convenient."

I understood why she didn't want anybody to worry about her, but I still just didn't get why she felt the need to hide something like this from me. Yes, it's true that we hadn't seen each other and that we were both busy, but almost every other week there was a letter in my mailbox from her, telling me what I thought at the time to be everything that was going on in her life. And a few days later, there'd be a letter in her mailbox with a summary of the most exciting events of my recent life that I could think of at the moment.

But I had never really realized how far off grocery shopping and dating were from being the most exciting things going on for Babs, and I was almost annoyed with myself for not suspecting that she was excluding something big. Babs had always had an exciting life, and had never been one to spare any details when it came to our letters. However, now that I really thought about it, her letters had become more and more vague as time went on.

She shrugged and then continued. "And I mean, being Helena's guardian was no secret. If I remember correctly, you've even met her before." I nodded, remembering a much younger, more angst-ridden version of Helena visiting my parents and I back at home a few years ago with Babs. "I.. I didn't even recognize her," I replied, feeling even more like a complete asshole. "And Dinah took both Helena and I by surprise, and everything happened so quickly that I didn't even know what would last, and what was worth mentioning in my letters to you. And-" "Babs, it's okay. I mean, I had no right to freak out at you like that, and I'm really sorry. I was just surprised and worried and shocked all at once, and because of that, my common sense was absent long enough for me to freak out irrationally." "I understand," she said. "Let's just move on, alright?"

I agreed to leave it behind, and that's just what we did. There was no time to waste over little misunderstandings; there was simply too much to worry about. I had to worry about starting school on Monday at New Gotham High School (where Babs is an English teacher, by the way), and we both had to worry about packing up the entire apartment and moving into the Clocktower by Sunday. And quite honestly, I think that both of our minds were far too occupied to worry about being upset at each other.

"I'll be right out," Babs called to me from her room. By then, I had put on clothes for the gym, and I looked completely ridiculous; I had red basketball shorts on with a white tank top and red knee socks. My hair was tied up in a high pony tail that came down from the top of my head somewhat like a veil. My sneakers were looked as though they had been attacked by a wild bear; I had worn the same pair of size seven Nikes in gym class since the eighth grade.

"Alright," I called back to her, patiently waiting on the couch. She came out of her room a few minutes later in gym attire that was almost as ridiculous as mine. I couldn't help but wonder why it was nearly impossible to have decent-looking exercise clothes. After one look at each other, we couldn't help but laugh. I noticed that she had switched from her powerchair to a manual one. "Why the switch in vehicle?" I asked lightly. "I prefer to work out in this one. It's less bulky." "Ah, makes sense," I replied as I got up from the couch and opened the door for her. After grabbing two water bottles from the fridge, she left the apartment, and I closed the door behind us. We entered the small elevator down the hallway and pressed the shiny white button that would take us to the ground floor. The strong, metal door of the elevator closed itself in front of us as tried to fit comfortably in the tiny space, and then we began to travel down to the first floor. That very moment, my first adventure in New Gotham had begun.

The gym was three blocks down from the apartment building, across the street, and around the corner. It took us about twenty minutes to get there, because we stopped every once in a while so Babs could give me a miniature tour of the area. It wasn't anything too spectacular; there was simply a bank here and a diner there. A convenience store on the corner, and one with better prices on eggs and Pop Tarts three doors down. And this tour may seem like a waste of time, but I had no idea where anything was in New Gotham that evening, and by doing that, Babs had made me feel a lot less like a clueless tourist.

The man working at the gym seemed to recognize Babs. He waved to her, his huge bicep and tricep muscles seeming to pop out of his arms. She waved back, making her way over to the weight room, and then she gestured for me to follow her.

She led me to a room filled with more dumbells and other miscellaneous body toning equipment than I had ever seen in my life. The room was surrounded by mirrors instead of walls. There was a huge, gray carpet with a few darker stains, and a gigantic punching bag in the back corner. "Well," Babs said to me, "it's time for your training to begin." This confused me; I thought we were just going to the gym to blow off some steam. "Training?" She nodded. "If you're going to be living in the Clocktower, you're bound to need it eventually. People in New Gotham in general should know how to defend themselves. Especially you; it's almost inevitable that you're going to get in some kind of danger someday, and you'll need to know how to handle it."

There was a lump in my throat. My heart was pounding. I didn't want any of this. Just hours ago, I was freaking out at Babs for putting her life in jeopardy by being Oracle. I hadn't realized until then that I was doing the same by living with her. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "So I guess I'm going to have to be a hero now?" I asked hesitantly. "No," she replied, "not necessarily. I'm going to give you the tools you need to be able to defend yourself. What you do with them is your choice. You could end up never needing these skills. You could end up using them once or twice in emergencies. You could end up becoming the greatest hero this city has ever seen." She paused, and then continued. "And, of course, you could also end up being its worst villian."

It took a minute for that to sink in. Never, not even once, had I imagined myself in this position; in a gym being mentored by a woman who had fought side by side with one of the greatest heroes of the era. Yeah, it was scary as hell to think that I'd eventually be in a situation in which I needed to use the skills I was about to learn, but what kind of idiot would pass up such an opportunity? Not that I could; I had no choice. I took one more deep breath, and then opened my eyes. "Okay, I'm ready."

The next hour was a whirlwind. I went from delicately lifting five pound weights and poking at the punching bag to kicking the living shit out of it and lifting almost half of my weight. Babs went from gentle instructing me to hollering commands; pushing me to work my hardest and then even harder. I was sweating so much I felt as though I had just been drenched by a tsunami, and I had pushed my muscles so hard that I was shaking by the time we were finished. Quite honestly, I had never pegged myself as the "badass" type, but damn, I felt like it by the time we were done.

I sat down in the corner of the room, drinking my water bottle as I watched Barbara briefly work out. Never in my life had I seen someone lift such heavy weights without cringing, or punch a punching bag so hard, repetitively, and steadily for such a long time without being winded in the least bit. In fact, she was phazed so little that she spent the entire workout talking to me; telling me stories of her adventures as Oracle that she was finally able to share now that I knew her secret.

At about a quarter to midnight, we left the gym and started to travel across the street, around the corner, and back up the three blocks to our apartment. We were passing the convenience store with the cheap Pop Tarts, when a tall man wearing a clown mask and black trench coat stepped in front of us, blocking our path. "Excuse us," Babs said to him politely, trying to maneuver herself around him. He shook his head and pulled out a dagger. "Sir, I don't think you want to do that," Babs calmly stated, slowly moving back a bit and signaling for me to stand behind her.

I was terrified. My whole body was trembling. I needed to do something. Yeah, Babs kicked ass at the gym, but was I really going to hide from a thug behind my paraplegic cousin? Before I could continue thinking about my next move, Babs had a black, eskrima fighting stick in each hand and was going at the man at full force, using one stick to shield herself from his blade and the other to attempt to incapacitate him. I simply couldn't help her. I was far too amazed at the fight going on in front of me to do anything but stand and stare. I could barely even think.

She was so graceful; each movement flowing into the next; alternating between using her arms to fight and to move her chair. I could see absolutely no fear or weakness in her eyes; only bravery and strength. The man seemed almost as shocked as I was. He was doing a pretty decent job at keeping his composure, but I could tell that he was afraid. I couldn't help but wonder how much of a great fighter she must have been as Batgirl. She used to tell me stories of jumping from rooftop to rooftop, feeling the wind blow through her hair. How she felt like she could do anything, even fly. I always believed that she could do anything that she put her mind to. Watching her fight that man from a wheelchair confirmed that.

I saw her hit a button on her watch when she had a free second. "Huntress," she said into the watch, holding it up near her mouth with one arm and shielding herself with the stick in the other. "Do you copy? Huntress." A voice replied from the watch. "I hear you loud and clear, Oracle. Are you alright?" "Outside Brady's Deli. Need backup," she said quickly before pulling the watch away from her face and fighting full force again. Within minutes, Helena arrived quietly, hoping to sneak up on the man. She struck him from behind, knocking him out.

Babs stopped to catch her breath. "Thank you," she said, panting. Helena nodded. "Who is this clown?" She looked down, saw his mask, and laughed. "Literally." Barbara did not react to Helena's joke. "One of the thugs behind the cop murders," she said after taking a few more heavy breaths. "But you're not a cop," I said, stepping out of the shadow that I was hiding in and finally snapping back to reality. She nodded. "Yes, but I am a civilian, and if he did something to me, it'd be an easy way to get into prison. That's where all of these murders are happening. They're trying to break down the New Gotham police force from the inside out." Helena took out her phone. "Let me call Reese really quick." Babs nodded.

"You alright by the way, Claire? I've never seen you that terrified before," she said to me. I laughed. "Well, that was my first time seeing a man with a weapon and violent intentions," I replied. She laughed. "Welcome to New Gotham, kiddo."