AN: To those who wanted a training session between Helena and Damian, here it is :)

-X-

Fighting sticks clacked together as Helena and Damian duelled on the training mat while John watched from the sidelines. Since Damian had been told to undergo another year of training before he might be allowed to go on patrol, he had been throwing himself into the training as if trying to prove himself quicker. While he was exceptionally skilled, he was a little too cocky sometimes and Helena was trying to get him to overcome that, even if that meant beating it out of him. He charged at her, swinging the wooden quarterstaff like an expert, but like a professional, Helena blocked every single move.

"Focus, Damian," she called, "Brute force doesn't always win. You have to outthink your opponent. Calm your mind and-"

She narrowly deflected a jab at her face and narrowing her eyes, she smacked Damian's stick aside, then parried his next move and slid her stick against his inner thigh, shoving hard and almost toppling him onto his back. Damian managed to recover his footing and block her next blow in time, but then pain flared through his ankle, back and head when her stick met the former and the latter two met the mat.

"Ow," Damian groaned, "That hurt."

"It was suppose to," Helena said, "How else am I going to get you to learn?"

"I am learning."

"Are you? Who's on the floor? Again?"

Damian didn't reply, his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he got up and stood in a stance, ready to go again. Helena shook her head in amusement, admiring his determination. He had that fire, the desire to patrol the streets fuelling his determination to prove himself to his sister, refusing to give up until he got what he wanted.

"As much as I would love to continue kicking your ass, I have a meeting to attend," Helena said, setting down her stick, "We can pick this up later."

"Fine," Damian muttered, putting his stick aside, but as his sister approached him, he lashed out with a punch.

Avoiding the fist, Helena deflected the next punch, then blocked his kick, before catching his arm and sweeping his legs out from underneath him, pinning him down with a grin.

"Nice try, little brother. Better luck next time."

"Damn it."

-X-

"Helena Wayne, thank you for meeting with me," Lincoln March greeted.

The original Wayne Tower stood high and proud in Midtown, a testament to its survival over the years. It had been constructed in 1888 by Helena's great-great-great-grandfather Alan Wayne as a symbol of welcome for people coming into Gotham City with an observation deck at the very top which was free and open to the public every day, as insisted by Alan. The windows had been created from only the best glass available, another demand of Alan's and as such, the glass was a kind of double-bonded, laminated float glass, designed to be crystal-quality and weatherproof, as well as, most importantly, unbreakable. Due to it becoming more of a tourist attraction over the years, a new Wayne Tower was built across town when the company was established. It was here Helena had agreed to meet with March to talk further about Terry's plan to build and vitalise Gotham City for the future.

"The pleasure is mine," Helena said, "So; you're the one who's going to take charge in Gotham? It's to my understanding you're the horse to back, even if some of your ideals are a little against the…protectors of this city."

"I take it you're a supporter of the Huntress?" March asked.

"Don't get me wrong, the police do a great job in fighting crime, but the Huntress is a great help to them. Without her or Batman and Red Robin, crime would be higher. They do a public service and they don't ask anything from us."

"Regardless, they are vigilantes, people taking the law into their hands. We have the police to maintain the law. If they wish to become part of the police force, I'm sure we could work something out. However, that isn't my only concern. The city's future is my main priority and I wish to be on board with you and Mr. McGinnis. Together, we could really make Gotham City the great city that it should be."

"You know, I only just support Terry. This was really his brainwave, so you should really talk to him."

"You're so humble. Mr. McGinnis is a busy man and you're the one with the real power. After all, isn't it your family name above the company's front doors?"

"Something tells me you're not just here to throw in an endorsement. And because of that, it's why you're talking to me instead of Terry," Helena said.

"That's true. I'm looking for your vote and support in my campaign," March admitted, "Your family name has been revered and admired greatly over the years. I understand that you may be reluctant, given my stance against the Huntress, but I assure you, the city's future is my main concern."

"Hm-hmm."

"Helena, it's a win-win situation. I am supported by the Powers family, of whom I'm sure you're aware and with your vote, it can help me take the top job. In return, you will have funding from the Powers family and their wealth combined with yours can greatly help Gotham City advance into the future."

"I suppose the Huntress is just a small matter compared to the rest of the city," Helena said, "And I can see that you are honest in your ways, a hard-worker who's built his small company from nothing. I just simply inherited something because of my last name. What I am saying, Mr. March-"

"Please, call me Lincoln."

"Very well then, Lincoln. What I'm saying-"

The elevator doors opened and a security guard dropped to the floor, his throat slashed, as someone stepped out onto the observation deck. Dressed from head to toe in black robes, the figure wore a harness over his chest that held numerous throwing daggers, the very same one used on the John Doe the previous night. Owl-shaped gauntlets covered his forearms, loaded with retractable talon-shaped steel claws, while his mask was fashioned in the shape of an owl, completely obscuring his identity. Lincoln March frowned at the intruder, but cried out in pain when a dagger impaled him in the shoulder, instantly dropping him.

"Wayne…" the Talon hissed.

"Oh, so you must be the guy who wants to put me on his kill list," Helena said, taking a quick look around the observation deck. Good, they were alone. "Although, I am curious as to why you've chosen me as your victim, but it doesn't matter. It's your funeral."

"Don't talk. Just die."

Sharp pain burst to life in Helena's shoulder, blood staining her white blouse and her first instinct was to remove the dagger. She had barely seen him move and he was also very accurate, knowing where to disable her. Soon, the pain would become too much for her to use her arm, which meant she had to act fast and right now. The Talon drew another dagger, intent on finishing his job, when Helena charged at him. The Talon slashed with his dagger, but Helena blocked with her good arm and lashed out with a kick to his knee, but his other hand stopped the attack, his boot slamming against her stomach. Helena's jacket was ripped from the blade when she narrowly dodged it, while blood was drawn along her abdomen from the gauntlet claws. She felt herself getting panicked, feeling she was out of her league here. The Talon was highly trained and very deadly. Fast, powerful and accurate, three deadly attributes that made a lethal combination. Helena tried a punch at the Talon's stomach, but while he deflected her fist, she avoided his elbow firing up at her face. However, his follow-through when he smashed his elbow onto her injured shoulder set off a firework of agony and another dagger impaled her, this time between her ribs. Ignoring the pain as best as she could, Helena smashed her elbow across the Talon's face and the assassin responded by kicking her in the torso again.

While the windows of the observation deck were unbreakable, they did have one weak spot by the edges. Designed to bend and flex against strong winds, they could shatter if the right pressure was applied, which happened to be Helena's body and the Talon jumped out after her, intent on killing her personally. As they tumbled through the air, blood flew from Helena's wounds and she crunched her fist into the Talon's face, forcing him off her while she was able to grab onto the scaffolding hanging low for the usual repairs. The sudden stop almost tore Helena's arm off and fresh pain flashed through her, but she managed to pull herself to safety, blood pumping from her wounds. The Talon, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate and plummeted to his death, coming to a sudden stop upon someone's car, crushing the roof. Helena was breathing heavily, her vision blurry from the blood loss and she struggled for her phone, hitting the speed dial and hoping that Terry was near his phone.

-X-

The elevator opened and Jesse was the first out of the car, closely followed by Damian, the pair stopping short when they saw Helena sitting at the computer beside Terry, watching over the video recordings from the observation deck. The eldest Wayne had her injuries bandaged and was wearing a loose T-shirt and slacks, one of the Talon's throwing daggers in her hand, the blade still coated in her blood. Then, she looked up as Jesse and Damian joined her.

"I heard what happened," Jesse said, hugging her while being careful of her injuries, "Are you okay?"

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and she closed her eyes, already feeling better in his presence.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Helena replied, "Did you get the body?"

"Already in the morgue, although there's no match in database. It's like he doesn't exist, much like his victim. On the other hand, Lincoln March is at Gotham General and he's in a stable condition. The dagger missed his major arteries. He'll be fine. I'm more worried about you."

"I've had worse, but this was definitely up there. Whoever he was, he was highly trained. I mean, he nearly killed me and I'm one of the best fighters around. I was just lucky to survive."

"What does this mean?" Damian wondered, "What exactly is going on?"

"I think that old nursery rhyme from a hundred years does have some fact to it," Terry said, looking at Jesse, "It's a very high possibility that they actually do exist. Helena's encounter only proves it for me."

"What nursery rhyme? Who are they?" Damian asked.

"The Court of Owls," Jesse replied, "And they've marked your sister for assassination."

"If they're going to try and take me out, best of luck to them," Helena said, "I'll bury them one by one until the Court is gone for good."

"Helena, I know you're trying to be strong, but you have to think about this for a minute," Terry said, "If one nearly killed you, how are you going to fare against the rest of them? According to folklore, they have a whole army of Talon assassins."

"I wasn't expecting them. Now I am. And if they're coming for me, then they'll also come for the rest of us. I'm not going to fall to a bunch of folklore nursery rhymes. Are you?"

Terry shook his head, knowing what was at stake.

"Good," Helena said, "We're going to find these sons-of-bitches and burn their nests."

-X-