Asshole.

Fucking holier-than-thou asshole.

Kala's mind was stuck on a profane loop, seething over the dismissive way that trigger-happy nutjob had handled the situation. His case originally or not, who the hell walked into a takedown in progress and started shooting it up? No matter how well he aimed, it was too big of a risk.

They'd made it to the safe house in good time, a seemingly abandoned garage in an even nastier part of town, and were now waiting for their host to arrive, tucked into the darkest corners of the old parking deck as dim yellow light from old overheads buzzed irritatingly. Kala didn't know what was bothering her worse: the realization of just how wrong they'd been about what Black Mask was moving—and she could definitely tell how bad it was bugging Bruce—or the scathing dismissal she'd received. She made a face then, annoyed with herself as she leaned back heavily against the wall. That sounded so pathetic. The truth was, as many saves as she'd been on since she'd first started backing Jase, this was one thing she hadn't encountered yet. Yeah, she'd known things like this happened, but this was the first time she'd seen it first-hand.

It wasn't as if it didn't happen in Metropolis, either; she knew it did, but never so openly. She couldn't even imagine Dad's reaction. Or Jason's. Maybe there was a reason her twin never really talked about his training here, only his memories of the more amusing incidents. She felt a surge of sympathy for him then. But maybe they needed this, the occasional punch in the gut to remind them how dark humanity could get, so they could appreciate the brightness. God, how many people could they have killed… And there was no way to save them now. It hurt to know it. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she pushed the thought away. There was nothing she could do, not now. Even with her powers. It was too late now. Too little, too late.

Enough, she told herself with a frown, shifting uncomfortably. It won't do any damn good to dwell on it now. Let it go, Kal, or you'll make yourself crazy. This is Gotham; things like this happen every night. We just have to be good enough to stop the next one. It's over. We managed to at least save the organs in time and that'll save a few more lives. Drop it.

Knowing that it would eat at her, she forced herself to switch gears to the less-important injustice. Just hearing the curt way Red Hood had singled her out made her grit her teeth. Exactly who the hell was he to point fingers, if half of what she'd heard was true? And why wasn't he already sharing information with Bruce if he was supposed to be working with the family again? She could hear his snide voice in her head now and all his inflection had implied. The way he'd looked at her… There was no holding back a surge of temper then.

She turned her head to face Dick, who was leaning against the wall just to her left, scowling to himself. "Is he always such a sanctimonious bastard?" she asked through gritted teeth, not even bothering to say the jerk's name. "And why are we even bothering to wait? I'm sure we could find his files in a few minutes. Would serve him right."

Dick huffed out a laugh, turning to meet her gaze with a slight smirk. "Oracle could be in and out in less than that, but that's not how we operate. Not with … family, anyway."

Something about the way he said 'family' piqued Kala's interest, and she couldn't help the rise of an eyebrow. Clearly, things weren't so cozy with all the Bats as they tried so hard to make everyone believe. Not that it should've been a surprise; she'd known about the other brother, knew he'd become Red Hood, but what else had happened along the way? And just how rifted had this family been?

"Besides," Dick went on, lowering his voice to almost a whisper, "For once … Jay was right. He had intel we didn't. We need to find out how he got it, and maybe find a way to keep this from happening again."

Kala nodded minutely, the image of the cooler of organs still vivid in her mind. One thing she'd learned for sure: the Bats didn't like to let bad things happen twice, and certainly not on their watch.

An elbow poked her side, and Kala brought her attention back up to Dick. She hadn't realized she'd gone so introspective. "Sorry, Dick. Brain-fade. Go ahead."

"To answer your first question, though," he said with a conspiratorial half-smile, "he is. Jay can be pretty self-righteous when he wants to be. But I don't blame him; we all get that way sometimes."

Kala smirked knowingly. "Yeah, I think I might've noticed that. Must be a Bat thing, huh?"

They traded looks then before Dick nodded, still smiling. "Oh, yeah. Took us all a long time to realize it. But Jay's got … special circumstances to account for his ego. It's been kind of a pain for the family to get past it."

That reminded her again, of how during her band's first tour, she had come out to Gotham to help her twin and Cassie keep Steph from hunting down this jackass, who'd come home and homicidal in a big way. Like a murdering-gangsters kinda way. "Special circumstances, huh? Why do I get the feeling this has something to do what what happened a few years ago? With Black Mask, even?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. But you'll have to ask him if you want the details," Dick replied, mirroring her posture. "Things have changed a little since back then. And the past isn't something we like to spread around."

Now that had Kala hooked. As expected, the 'special circumstances' had damaged their family so badly that they couldn't even talk about it. She had never been privy to the details of the lockdown in Gotham; that said, you didn't have to be Batclan to know that Red Hood was the Robin that had disappeared. Beyond the most basic rumors, she didn't know more than Spoiler had told her that night and Jase had just barely told her anything. What he'd heard had to be pretty bad, considering the things she did know about most of the Bats' family history by now. But then, her own family had been keeping their fair share of secrets, so maybe it wasn't something so unusual after all.

Dick continued with a humorless little smile, "But if you do ask him, be sure to watch out for the knife he'll try to stick in your ribs. He doesn't exactly like thinking about those days, himself."

Kala couldn't help a laugh. As if he'd even get half a chance, regardless of whatever his deep, dark secret was.

This was one of the things she was really starting to love about Dick, though; he could always find a way to make her see past the worst parts of the job. Though Hood's rebuke still burned, she couldn't stop the snicker that rose to her lips when she thought back over the confrontation. "You know, it's kinda sad. I would take his smart mouth a little more seriously if he hadn't taken a last look at chest level before he swung out. Lotta guts for a guy dressed like he thinks he's an extra in a 50s tough-guy film."

"At least I don't put all my goodies on display. Like Dickie, here."

Holy God. … Kala barely suppressed a startle at the sudden voice in her comm, Red Hood sounding entirely too smug. She resisted the urge to throw the thing across the parking deck in a flare of irritation, only a deep breath in and a slow exhalation quelling the urge. Activating the unit in her ear to send, she gritted out, "How the hell did you get on this frequency?"

Dick only quirked an eyebrow at her as she responded to Jay's interruption; clearly, he wasn't getting the signal. Scowling, she took a moment to mouth, Red Hood.

"Had Oracle patch me through," Jay explained smoothly. "You'd be surprised what you can get done with a few incentives. Such as access to Black Mask's networks."

So she was right; he was doing this just to mess with her. He wanted her out of her comfort zone. Well, then, she had no intention of complying. Matching him tone for tone, she gave a snort of derision. "I'll bet. So lucky me, I guess this means I get to be your messenger girl. Oh, goody." Her narrowed eyes flicked to Dick. "You gonna get here any time soon? We've only been waiting, what, ten, twenty minutes?"

"So sorry to inconvenience you," he snickered nastily. "Coming around the corner now. Had to make a pit stop to beat up a little prick dealing meth."

With that, the connection cut out, a hiss of static momentarily bursting in her ear before she got her comm switched off, and the rumbling purr of what sounded like a very expensive bike caught her attention, growing louder in the Gotham night. Kala straightened from her place against the wall, Dick following suit as Tim and Bruce appeared out of their respective shadows—always the shadows with those two, she mused absently—and the bike came roaring into the garage from the street, the steel security gate closing behind it. The sickly yellow light from the few functioning overheads reflected off of Hood's helmet in weak flashes as he gunned the engine and sped straight toward them, leaned down close over. the front wheel.

Kala simply crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. Typical.

Red Hood didn't break off as he got closer, though, and for a brief second, Kala couldn't help the little spike of adrenaline that told her body to fucking run. It was only the rational part of her mind that got her to stand still in the bike's path, all the training she'd been through coupled with the certainty that Hood couldn't possibly be that stupid … could he? No one could possibly be that suicidal; even not knowing who she was, she ran with the Bats. No, he was just trying to psych her out, make her sweat a little, haze the new girl. He had to be. He—

Thankfully, the rational part of her was rewarded when Jay and the bike—that looked like it'd lost a fight with Hob's Bay, all muddy and mucky—turned swiftly at the last moment to careen to their left, toward a broad metal door that rolled upward with a horrible grinding and screeching in protest at his approach. Cutting the engine, Jay brought the bike to a stop with a squeal of tires and a fishtail maneuver inside what appeared to be an inner-garage, a brightly-lit space whose light poured almost obscenely out into the dim parking deck.

Kala took the initiative to follow him inside first, the guys all close at her heels. As uneasy as Jay made her, she refused to give him ground, taking advantage of the situation to observe him now with keen eyes, even if it did feel weird for all of them to suddenly be standing in full light, still clad in all their best leather and armored finery. "I was right earlier," she observed smugly, stopping to prop a hand on her hip as the garage door groaned to a close behind them. "You really are a motorcycle fetishist."

Hood just turned the blank face of his helmet at her as he dismounted the bike, and she got the distinct impression that he was grinning at her beneath the thing, like some sort of shark, all teeth and wild glee.

Which only made her want to put a fist through the helmet's gleaming red surface. And which, in the long run, probably wasn't a good idea.

But after a stare-down in which neither of them gave ground – insufferable jackass – Jay reached up to undo the hidden clasps on the helmet and tug the damn thing off. He was wearing a red domino beneath it. Jesus, he really is determined that no one know who he is. But considering his history in this town…

"Maybe," he answered her at last, his too-blue eyes striking her with their intensity beneath mussed, raven-black hair that really shouldn't have surprised her, considering Bruce's track record with sidekicks who shared his coloring. "But I'm not the one that rubs his Ducati down with a diaper every night. Right, Timmy?"

Her gaze followed as all eyes turned to Tim, the youngest still hanging back, his arms crossed over his chest and sudden indignation on his face, completely unhidden beneath his own domino.

"Hey, I work hard to keep my bike in good condition. Not my fault yours looks like it's been run through the mud," Tim countered, sounding pretty calm for someone who'd landed in the hospital thanks to this asshole. "What is that, anyway, a Honda?"

All eyes volleyed back to Jay. "Are you nuts?" he bit out. "You don't even recognize a BMW HP2 when you see one? You're not the only Bat with resources, Baby Bird. And besides, I can't be held responsible for road conditions in this city," he spat back, swiping a patch of muck from the bike with his sleeve to reveal its logo.

Kala was sure she heard Bruce's teeth grind after the 'resources' comment, and made a mental note to follow up on that one, but she couldn't resist the snort of amusement that escaped her over the whole exchange. Shaking her head, she barely resisted a facepalm. Family rift? As dark as the history had to be, she was starting to get the impression that their rift these days wasn't much more than an overblown case of sibling rivalry.

"All right, enough," Bruce cut in at last, putting an end to the boys' bickering with a firm tone. "We don't have all night, Jason."

Jay just shrugged, replying, "Fine by me, I don't need to be insulted in my own place, anyway." And tugging off his white leather gloves—crap, they did have blood all over them, Kala noted, realizing he hadn't been kidding about the meth dealer—Jay dropped them on a workbench against the back wall, next to his helmet. He typed a code into a panel beside a blank metal door that Kala hadn't noticed before, and gestured over his shoulder for them to follow him as a click sounded and the door swung open. "Come on, everything's downstairs."

Following, first again—seriously, are they just herding me in front as a human shield or something?—Kala made her way down the stairs behind Jay. Somehow, on the trip down, her eyes found themselves wandering despite the best of intentions. It likely had to do with his comment earlier, the way he made himself sound like the be-all-end-all epitome of everything. And though she was loathe to admit it, stuck behind him and having to watch where she was going, it was a pretty nice view, which was ironic considering his prickly personality. Not as good as Dick's, but then, Jay had been all too right about Dick putting his goodies on display.

It's an intimidation tactic. He's going to feel me up with his eyes, I can go right back at him. Just because he's built like a giant doesn't mean I'm going to let him push me around, she thought coldly, scolding herself to focus on why they were here. If she wanted something gorgeous to eye, she had Dick. Dick, who had manners and a sense of humor that didn't rely on sneering at everyone else. In the twenty minutes she'd known Jason Todd, he'd shown himself to be a complete jackass, a show-off, and a presumptuous bastard. Nothing to change what she had assumed before tonight's little performance. And, to top it all off, he had intel they needed. Three strikes and an out before they had spoken a dozen words.

When she hit the bottom of the stairs, Kala's train of thought stuttered to a halt at the sight before her. The little basement was wall to wall computers, training equipment, and weaponry, each area complete with a tightly-focused overhead light. It was as if Jay had shrunk the Cave to fit into a fifteen-by-fifteen foot room. Hell, there was even a tiny area that looked like a med bay, wastebasket full of bloodied bandaged and all. And covering everything was the reek of menthol, tobacco, beer, blood, and entirely too much air freshener, as if he'd known he'd be having company, and didn't want to completely offend anyone's delicate sensibilities. Kala couldn't imagine someone raised in the same household with Alfred Pennyworth could live like this. The whole effect was just … strange, contradictory, and added another layer to the mystery of the family's rift.

Kala slid her incredulous gaze to the Bats to her right. She had been with them for over a month and there had never been a sign of this many contradictions in family ties. And just what the hell was Jay's whole story, anyway? This night, and the whole family's dynamic, was starting to confuse her in way that made her want to strangle her brother for not explaining.

…

Shucking his jacket, Jay tossed it over the back of a chair and headed to his main workstation, a bank of three networked systems and six monitors. It wasn't much, compared to Daddy Bat's setup back in the Cave, but it got him through, sure as hell got him intel that they hadn't been able to get at, even with Babs' connections. Part of him hated letting them meet him here, in his own base of operations, but they had to know where he lived these days. With their resources, they would've tracked him down as easily as Babs had. Besides, they wouldn't screw around with anything, they had to know the place would be more booby-trapped than the Manor. And too, he knew where they all lived.

"Well?" Dick prompted him impatiently from behind, moving close enough to be breathing down his neck.

Jay tossed a dark look over his shoulder. "Hold your fucking horses, Dickie." A quick glance at the rest of them found Bruce scowling, as usual, the new girl scrutinizing Jay's armory with a look that could very well have meant she was scanning it with some Kryptonian bullshit x-rays or something, and Timmy looking way too closely at one of Jay's works-in-progress. "And don't touch anything. I've got sensitive equipment in here," he spat, covering his bases.

Turning back to his workstation, Jay pulled up all the pertinent files with a few clicks and passwords, keeping an eye trained on Dick to make sure the Golden Boy wouldn't gank those passwords. He'd change them after they all left, just in case, anyway.

"Voila," he said, transferring everything to a flash drive—no encrypted emails for stuff this sensitive, no way. "Almost everything you ever wanted to know about Black Mask and his operations. Client lists, employee manifests including the 'medical staff' that did the dirty work, delivery schedule, the works." A quick tug and a flick of his wrist, and he tossed the drive at Dick over his shoulder.

Dick caught it with a fist, and frowned again as Bruce spoke up from the little shadow he'd managed to find, voicing what was probably on all their minds, "If you had all this, why didn't you stop it from happening sooner? Why didn't you come to us?"

Jason shook his head, standing from the workstation. "I didn't have most of the pieces until today. And they'd already finished their harvesting by the time I got the warehouse address. There's a lot I still wasn't able to get, too. A few missing pieces of intel that I still need, so I can take the fucker down for good. Shit that'll make charges stick for real."

He could practically see Bruce's eyebrow raising behind his cowl, all skeptical disbelief. "How did you get all this, anyway?"

For a moment, Jay considered giving him a cryptic answer, and he crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow in return. But what the hell good would it do to hold back? Especially after he'd promised Babs he would play nice. "I found a man on the inside," he finally admitted. "Tracked him down when I found out Mask was behind the disappearances and threatened to slit him ear to ear if he didn't start talking. Though I think he still held some of it back. Might be a separate system, I don't know about for sure."

"He just gave you an in to Mask's networks without putting up a fight?" Dick asked. "Doubtful."

Jay couldn't resist flashing a quirk of a grin at him. "What part of 'Columbian necktie' don't you understand? You think I just said 'pretty please' and he coughed it up? You really don't know me, do you?" The injuries he'd inflicted wouldn't be immediately visible, since he wanted to keep his new informant inside Mask's organization, and looking like he'd been beat to shit would make it obvious the man was compromised. Still, Jay knew plenty of ways to hurt someone that didn't leave such obvious marks.

A quick glance around, and he caught Kryptonian Barbie grimacing at the mental image, her little black domino not doing much to hide her disgust. Man, was she gonna have to toughen up; a girl that naïve wouldn't last too long around here, related to Big Blue or not.

But Bruce put the brakes on Jay's fun with another inane question, stepping into the circle of one of the overhead lamps and crossing his own arms over his chest. "What about the disappearances? How did you connect them?"

Jason just rolled his eyes. "Why else would hookers, transients, and runaways suddenly start to disappear? The only answer was that they were being kidnapped. And as all of our usual kidnappers are either in Arkham or Blackgate at the moment, it either had to be some new serial killer, or someone looking to take something that wouldn't be missed, for some other intrinsic value than to provide entertainment or satisfy a blood-lust. I've been living undercover on the street for months, getting real names of the missing and any gossip on the disappearances I could scrounge. Finally tumbled to a decent lead on the actual kidnappers, got Babs to run it for me, and when it ran back to Mask, I knew who to chase down. The guy folded pretty damn quick when he realized who had him."

At Bruce's darkly introspective look, Jay added, "I take it you had another theory?"

"We were following a few leads," Dick piped up, his way of saying they had absolutely nothing. "There were signs that pointed to Victor Zsasz—"

"Who's been in Arkham for the last three years," Jay cut him off.

Dick reached up to rub at the back of his neck, looking more sheepish than Jay remembered him ever looking. "Yeah … well, we thought he might've had an apprentice, so. …"

Jay shook his head and pursed his lips, cutting his gaze over to the new girl. "You believe this crap? Please tell me you weren't in on this investigation."

New girl took a long moment to turn to face him, her eyes cool when they met his. She merely raised an eyebrow at him, much like before, and gave another soft snort of amusement. "So now you're trying to make me your sounding board? After you try to run me down?" she retorted drolly. "Cute. Don't drag me into this. I just came along to make the take-down look good. Shame someone stole the show on debut night." Her gaze flicked over to Dick and Bruce for a moment, her lips quirking up in a brief smile before she speared him with her gaze again, the smile gone, as if it'd never been there. "But that seems to be your modus operandi in most situations from what I've seen, Mr. Hood. Seems like you have a desperate need for attention. Glad we could oblige."

"Yeah, well, I like to make an entrance," he countered, smirking darkly.

Again that sardonic smile. "Obviously. The last thing you could call that was subtle. Good thing we weren't trying for it."

Bruce merely shook his head in the midst of their verbal sparring and gestured to Dick and Tim. "Time to go. We've got everything we need here."

"Aw, but you all just got here," Jay whined with a mock-pout and a slight head-tilt. Having them all in his space was honestly making him twitch, but he wouldn't let them see it.

Dick huffed at him as he moved past to get to the stairs, Tim glaring openly as he followed behind. Another withering glance from the girl as she rose from where she had been leaned against the wall and started after the boys. "And it's such a shame to be leaving," she tossed over her shoulder in clipped tones.

"Go on," Bruce said lightly to them, "I'll catch up in a moment."

With that, Jason set his jaw, tightening his arms over his chest defensively. So much for a fun ending to his night. He'd saved the damn day, had delivered an information gold mine, and had managed to play nice, not even shedding any unnecessary blood, so of course Bruce couldn't let him get away with that. He'd just have to steel himself for whatever crap lecture Daddy Bats was about to lay on him.

But he couldn't let the new girl get away without a last glance. Catching her eye as she moved to follow the others up the stairs, he grinned again. "Later, Supergirl."

The irate look that she aimed over her shoulder at him for that was fucking priceless.

…

His final potshot had floored her, the click of her boot-heels loud as she stalked forward, furious that he had identified her. Jason Todd was a dead man. She'd been pretty damn good about keeping her identity secret for years before she had even come here. And he had made her, without help, within a half-hour of seeing her. Even with the damn domino on! There should have been nothing to indicate that she was a Super. And she sure as hell wasn't trying to advertise who she was, by action or costume. Sure, she'd been training with the Bats and Birds for weeks, but this was her first patrol with Bruce and the boys. Hardly enough time for word to spread and assumptions to be made. Nobody knew the Blur was Kryptonian.

Keeping the secret was the top priority, and it just didn't sit well with her that the jerk knew anything about her, doubly so when it was clear Uncle Bruce hadn't passed it on. The pompous ass was just trying to piss her off and he'd succeeded. In spades.

The boys had continued ahead toward the vehicles while she slowed to try to get her calm restored. It had yet to work. Damn him for getting under her skin like that on the one night she had been determined to prove herself to the rest of them. She just couldn't catch a damn break tonight.

"—doesn't have to be like this, Jason."

Startled, Kala froze beneath the open inner-garage door. She hadn't realized that her hearing had keyed up even that much when her rage got the better of her control. Her brow furrowing, her innate curiosity reared its head against her will, and she found herself lingering. I don't think I've ever heard Bruce sound like that. 'Doesn't have to be like' what? She didn't need to hear this. Didn't want to hear it. But with a mystery right in front of her, she couldn't make herself turn away. Especially if it would improve her opinion of the creep.

"Like what, Bruce?"

Another surprise. For some reason, Jay sounded a lot less arrogant without the others around, and the prospect of there being some other side to him than the smirking, full-of-himself asshole caught her interest.

"This … this place. This life. You don't have to do all this on your own."

Kala was certain she heard Jay shuffling his feet, and could almost imagine the petulant look on his face, an amusing, if sad, thought.

"What is this, an intervention?"

"No, just observation. You're the one staying away, Jason. You … don't have to anymore."

There was a long pause and it was pretty obvious that this was a difficult conversation for them to be having. She couldn't help the way her conscience ate at her for listening in. Trying to figure Jay out or not, this was eavesdropping, pure and simple. And she really was fishing for bombs to lob. It wasn't right, immature asshat or not. Dad would kill me for this. This is totally none of my business and I shouldn't be sinking to his level.

The abrupt starting of an engine drowned everything out then, the intensity of the sound startling her and refocusing her hearing instantly before she had the chance. Kala shook herself, uprooting herself from the spot and trying to not look guilty. Saved by the bell, she mused, realizing Dick had started up his bike.

Glancing back the way she'd come, she turned back to find Bruce already up from the basement and heading out.

"Don't dally," he warned her with a tight expression as he breezed past.

"Yes, sir. I'll be right behind you." But Kala was beyond dallying at this point. She still had a score to settle with Hood, regardless of the strained conversation she didn't mean to overhear. Whirling, she caught him as he emerged from the stairwell, and strode back to him, an index finger leading the way to land on his chest with a firm poke. Just a little reminder that she did have strength enough to bypass body armor.

"I want to know exactly who are you getting information from," she started, practically hissing between her teeth. "Because I find it very unlikely that Bruce is the one that did it since it looks like it's been a bit since you last spoke. You might just be an urban legend in Gotham, but that doesn't impress me at all. Who told you who I was?"

Jay lifted one corner of his mouth at her, just barely, and leaned into her space. "After what you saw down there, you don't think I have the resources to know just who's hanging around Gotham with my brothers and Daddy Bats?"

Her gaze never faltered. Give me a break. What are we, five? Are we gonna get in a shoving match next? Returning his flash of grin, she leaned in just as close. "Oh, yeah, because your dad and brothers can't take care of themselves, and need someone watching over their shoulders twenty-four seven. And you're just the man for the job, I'm sure, considering the history there." It was a low blow, one she normally wouldn't stoop to, but she was too angry to stop herself.

The smug expression on Jay's face only flickered for a half-second, but that was all that Kala needed to see the doubt there, even as he went on, "Well, excuse me for keeping tabs. There's a new chick in town running with the Bats, you think I'm not gonna follow up on that? And I had info that you all didn't. So, tell me again where I'm the one out of line?"

Kala scowled at him. The aggravation that had started with his spraying bullets in the alleyway just over-flowed. "You're a completely insufferable prick, that's where you're out of line. Where the hell do you get off treating me like some green-as-hell rookie? You don't know a damn thing about me beyond maybe a name and a guess, but you seem to think you can just leap in and—"

"And what? Steal your thunder?" he cut her off, another smirk threatening to break out over his face. "You think this is a stage show? A couple bright lights, a good beat, and you get to mop up all the credit? Just like your day job, huh?"

With that, Kala had had just about enough of Jay's crap and she brought up her hands to shove him against the wall next to the open basement door. "You know what? You can go to hell," she growled, gritting her teeth. "I've been training for a month and a half with barely a sunbath for tonight. To finally get out there and do something worthwhile in this hellhole. You ruined that with your little Expendables routine, which wasn't even necessary, so how dare you presume to know anything about me."

Jay's face grew thunderous at that, and Kala was about to go on when he reached up and shoved her back in retaliation. Dammit! Looks like I was right about the shoving match, after all.

"You are so far out of your depth in this city, kiddo, you have no fucking idea. You know what happens to girls like you, little girls who think being a singer means something around capes? Who think that because their daddies are somebody, they can do anything they want? They get raped, tortured, murdered, and tossed in a dumpster with yesterday's trash. Or they get drilled in the skull and left for dead. And that's if you're lucky. If not, somebody takes a crowbar to you until you can't even see because your eyes are all full of blood, and you're relieved when your skull finally caves in, because you don't have to take it anymore. Or somebody kidnaps you and cuts out all your vital fucking organs to sell and drops your remains in the fucking Gotham Harbor!" he finally finished, an arm flung out to point in the direction of the bay as he breathed heavily through his nostrils.

This … had not been what she had been expecting. For a moment, Kala reeled at the venom in his voice. No, not venom … more like grief. Like he was talking from experience. Dear God, what had he seen in this city?

But Jay's posture wasn't at all about grief. He was spoiling for a fight. Like he wanted to prove that Kala had no business playing in the big bad city.

And that would just not stand, although she felt just a little less sure of her position after his rant. There was a lot more going on here that Dick hadn't explained, that no one had feel the need to fill her in on, and she was going to get the answers the minute the Manor calmed for the night. One way or another, whether Dick liked it or not.

Chin tilted up and a hand going to her hips, she shot back, "You can back off the horror stories and back the fuck off my day job. What I do when I'm not in uniform is none of your or anybody else's business. I'm not exactly your average girl, as you've already blatantly pointed out. There's very little chance of any of those things happening to me, but just maybe I might be able to keep that from happening to someone else. Did you ever think of that? Yeah, so my Dad's Superman. So what? That makes me less capable of handling this? If anything, it brings more resources to the table. So back off. Or bring it on and let's get this over with."

A flicker of rage passed over Jay's face, and his mouth twisted like he was about to throw back a few more choice comments, but then he backed off, turning away from her to grab a rag from the workbench and start wiping down his bike. "Your ride's about to leave you, Princess."

And that wasn't at all what Kala had been expecting. No more snide remarks, no more shows of force or vivid descriptions of life and death in Gotham, just a bitter observation and final barb. Frustrated, she forced down the urge to yank him around and get him to finish this, but a shout from out in the parking deck cut off her.

"Blur, let's go!" Tim shouted, gunning the engine of his Ducati as he brought it around in front of the open garage door.

A last scowl at Jay, and Kala called back in a tone that was just slightly touched with hurt irritation, "Not that I give a damn what you think or whether or not you approve, this isn't a game to me. I have reasons for what I'm doing right now. And you can be sure that this isn't over, Hood," before jogging out to hop on the back of Tim's bike.

As they sped away to head back to the Manor for the night, she heard Jay toss down the rag and say to the empty garage, "You're right, kid; it's not." Vowing to find answers to what the hell his problem with her was, she only hoped this stupid pissing contest she seemed to have gotten into wouldn't drag out. The whole encounter left her feeling shaken-up and confused and a little defeated.

Training in Gotham was supposed to have been an antidote from her real life, dammit. Not a whole new headache. At least, not this kind of headache.

She was silent on the back of Tim's bike for a long moment, turning the entire encounter over in her head. Something was really strange about Hood's reactions to her, some of the things he'd said leaving her uneasy. Remembering the way Tim had bristled when Jay spoke to him, staying mostly out of the entire conversation, Kala started to smile. There was some serious tension between the youngest and the middle child. Maybe it would be better to ask Tim her questions.

…

As soon as his brothers' bikes cleared his exterior monitors, six blocks and change away from his building, Jay shut off his systems for the night and sat back heavily in his chair, his mind spinning with shit he'd rather not think about. Maybe he shouldn't have baited the pretty princess so damn hard. Here he'd been, thinking it'd be one hell of a game of cat and mouse; bat at his prey a little, give chase, let her think she had the upper hand, pounce, the usual. But fuck if she hadn't hit him right where he lived. Damn her. How the hell she managed to turn it all back on him was beyond fathom; just what the fuck nerve had he struck to get her to do that, anyway?

Maybe it was crack about her day job. Shit, that'd been over the line, even for him. Not that he cared; considering where the kid came from, she didn't need any ego boosting.

But whatever. Fuck it. It just wasn't gonna be much fun playing with Kryptonian Barbie if she was gonna play dirty because she couldn't take a little reality check. It wasn't fucking worth letting her drag all his past crap up, even if she didn't have a damn clue. He hadn't meant to let his own story get dragged up in the litany of bad shit that went down in Gotham. There were enough horror stories around, he could tell them for days without ever touching on his own. But for some stupid-ass reason he'd barfed up the words to someone he knew next to nothing about.

Maybe it was those kids back in the Bowery. Supergirl here had no damn idea what life was like for them. She'd never in a million years think the way Carl did. The way Carl had to. The new girl had never had to choose survival over dignity or safety or anything else. She had no right to swan into Gotham like she was gonna fix it with a little dash of Super-optimism.

And Bruce was probably gonna give him all kinds of shit later for tonight's mess, to top it all off. The last thing he needed was Daddy Bats going all protective over Superman's baby girl, too.

Then again…

Bruce had given him an open invitation, even if Jay knew it'd really been at Alfred's request. Maybe he would pop over around lunchtime tomorrow or the day after, hang around to hand the new girl her ass on the training mats, see what she was made of. If she thought her fucking special abilities were gonna save her, she had another fucking thing coming.

There was no mercy in Gotham, and no threat of the World's Finest Daddies was gonna keep him from teaching the pretty princess a lesson or two in humility. Somebody fucking had to.

Shoving himself out of the chair to head up to his little apartment on the fifth floor above him, Jay focused on round two. It'd be so sweet to give her a little taste of what Gotham's streets really had to offer.

If only he could convince himself that that was the only reason he wanted to punch her face in.