Jazz nervously stands outside the study where Bruce is waiting for her, feeling like a grade school student sent to the principal's office for the first time. With a deep breath, she finds the courage to walk in and stand facing Bruce, but her eyes remain glued on her feet. She waits quietly for him to start.

"I'll let you explain yourself first," he starts, placing his mug of tea on the side table.

"Henry found out Max was a part of the murder so I tracked him and decided to get the information myself," she replies without lifting her eyes.

"Is there a reason you didn't trust Terry to do it?"

"It's a personal issue. I'd rather get it done myself."

"Why did you throw him over the edge?"

She shrugs. "Felt like it. I didn't think he would talk to the media." The silence that follows is the worst punishment she has to endure before Bruce lets out an annoyed sigh.

"Next time don't let emotions get the better of you."

Surprised, her eyes shoot up to meet his. "Next time? You're not-?"

"There's no point in suspending you if you'll just find another way to get what you want. Working against us doesn't spell teamwork."

"Uh, thanks," she stammers.

"Have you started physical therapy yet?"

"No."

"You start today then; Terry will supervise."

"Bruce, there's something you need to know," she shifts her weight and looks down at her feet again. "Henry found out I'm Batgirl."

The first sign of anger crosses his face. "How?"

"I had to get stitches the other night, and after he saw the news, he put two and two together. But he doesn't know that I work for you or about Terry."

"Just a matter of time," he grumbles getting up.

Looking up at him, Jazz takes a step back to let him pass. "We can trust him, Bruce. He's not going to brag to anyone." But he doesn't reply as he walks away. "What do you want me to tell him?"

Stopping at the doorway, he turns to her. "Nothing. You can't reverse this, so don't make it worse." She nods once and watches him walk out, glad the meeting went better than anticipated. But the relief is short lived when he adds, "you're lifting weights tonight."

With a shoulder that's still sore, she realizes adding weights is going to make therapy a grueling process. Groaning inwardly, she heads to the cave entrance, disappointed that she didn't get away without punishment.


Glad to finally reach her stop, Jazz gets off the subway train and walks the last 3 blocks to her apartment. Unsympathetic to her condition, Terry pushed Jazz to her limits during training, exhausting her by the time the two hours were over. Arriving to her building, she absent-mindedly punches the code opening the main door and rides the elevator up. With eyes lowered to the floor, she accidentally bumps into someone trying to get on as she steps off. Without looking up, she mumbles an apology and starts moving past the person before he grabs her elbow stopping her from walking away. Her eyes shoot up to find Henry is the one staring at her with a raised brow.

"Where have you been?"

"Work," she replies shaking off his grip.

"You haven't been answering your phone."

"Forgot to turn it on," she lies. She turned it off after she left the manor not wanting to be bothered. "What are you doing here?"

"Well since you weren't answering your phone, I decided to stop by to talk to you."

"About?" She asks turning towards her door.

"How you're doing." She raises a questioning brow at him as she unlocks her door. Inviting him in, she tosses her bag on the floor and heads to the kitchen to get an icepack.

"Never better," she replies holding the icepack against her shoulder.

"Somehow I doubt that. Look," he starts as he leans a hip on the counter. "I'm not here to yell at you or anything like that. What you do on your own time is your business, but I don't want you pushing everyone away while you're doing it."

"I'm not pushing anyone away; you're the one who got pissy at me," she counters.

"Yeah, cause you took advantage of me," he replies, crossing arms over his chest. "I don't like being used, Jazz."

Sighing, she takes a seat at the kitchen table and begins rubbing her sore neck. "I know, I'm sorry," she apologizes. "It wasn't my intention. It's just, everything was happening at once."

Although he's still hurt by the way she abused their friendship, he can't help but sympathize with her plight. It's what compels him to join her at the table.

"It doesn't mean you should risk your life like that."

"Well I've learned my lesson, thanks for the concerned talk," she cynically replies.

Rolling his eyes, he leans back in his seat. "Look, do you want my help or not?"

"I don't need it. I can manage on my own."

"That got you an icepack on a shoulder that'll never heal properly." She glares at him for a moment. "Jazz, I know you and I know how determined you could be; but if you want to live to see your next birthday, I suggest you stop acting like the world is working against you."

She can't help but scoff at the statement, making him frown. "A friend pretty much said the same thing earlier today," she explains, looking down at the tabletop.

"A friend, huh?" Henry replies, remembering his encounter with Terry.

"I heard you met him," she goes on, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Not long enough to catch his name."

"Terry McGinnis."

"Wayne's go-for?" Henry asks with surprise.

She nods in reply. "How'd you get mixed up with him?"

"Wayne was looking for someone to take care of his dog," she lies, knowing Terry wouldn't want him to find out Batman's identity. "Terry had too much to do, so I took the job."

Although he remembers Terry denying any affiliation with Batgirl, he still can't help but speculate on the subject.

"It's not him," Jazz suddenly says, as though reading his thoughts.

"Never said it was."

"Right," she raises a brow at him, before sighing.

They quietly stare at each other from across the table, trying to predict what the other will say before Henry leans forward.

"I know you still need me to find Falon, but I'm not sure I want to considering what you did to Hemming."

"That's not going to happen again."

"That's not very convincing."

"Trust me, I've learned my lesson. The media's kicking my ass, cops want me arrested, and my partner hates my guts. Last thing I want to do is make it worse."

Drumming his fingers on the table, he debates whether he should trust her confession. He knows she's a hardheaded and stubborn woman, but she also can't lie to him.

So it's the sincerity he finds that prompts him to say, "Falon's hiding out in the suburbs."

She's surprised to learn Henry still looked for Jimmy despite the Hemming fiasco. Before she could thank him, he interrupts with a warning.

"If you pull another stunt like yesterday's, Jazz, I'll to be the worst thing you'll ever face."

A smile stretches on her lips. "Thanks, Henry."

"For what?"

"Sticking by me."

"Thick as thieves and all that," he shrugs, standing to leave. "Stop by tomorrow so I can take your stitches out."

"Wait, you didn't say where in the suburbs."

"I will when you come over tomorrow," he replies, stuffing hands in his pockets and making her scowl. "I'll see you at five," he smiles at her before heading out the door.


Bruce makes it down to the cave in time to see Terry getting ready to leave for rounds. He takes his usual seat at the console and starts up the surveillance systems and police radio. Terry walks over to his side as he threads hands into his gloves.

"Where am I going first?" He asks, looking at the screen.

"You already know, so don't patronize me," Bruce replies without looking at him. "What's the problem now?"

Shifting his weight onto the other leg, Terry nervously puts a hand to the back of his neck hesitant to confess what had happened. "I met Nicole." Grabbing his full attention, Bruce looks up at him and waits for an explanation. "She was at the coffee place by Jazz's apartment. She said she wanted to talk to her."

"Did she give you any contact information?"

"No," Terry regretfully replies before Bruce looks away in thought. "We still don't have anything that would tie her to the murder."

"We do once we find Falon; he's the only link," he explains, pulling up the most recent information regarding Jimmy's escape.

"Even if we find him, getting him to talk isn't going to be easy," Terry says, lowering his arm.

"You'll find a way."

"You're turning me into a hypocrite," Terry scowls at the back of Bruce's head as he puts his mask on.

"You realize I used to do it all the time."

"But not right after you yell at your partner for doing the same thing," he mumbles as he walks towards the car.

"Hurry up; two victims are still trapped in the accident on I-297."


"Wake up, McGinnis," Jazz unapologetically shakes him awake, surprising him. He was sleeping on his side before she walked into his room that morning and took a seat next to him.

"What the hell?" He asks, looking up to find Jazz's face staring down at him. He looks at his watch before glaring back up at her. "It's 7:30 Jazz; get out," he orders before lying back down and turning away from her. To get his attention, she gets up and opens the blinds letting in the obnoxious morning light.

"I need to start locking my door," Terry mumbles to himself as he hides his face in his pillow.

"I need your car," she demands.

"What for?" He asks, squinting at her.

"There isn't a subway stop where I'm going."

"Which is where?"

"It doesn't concern you. Where are the keys?"

"Pants," he points to them lying on the floor as he hides his face again.

She picks them up and fishes out the keys. "I'll be back soon."

Knowing he can't just let her leave without an explanation, he groans as he turns over. "Jazz, where are you going?" Terry asks again, sitting up.

"I already told-"

"No more secrets, remember?"

Sighing, she rolls her eyes. "My mom's in town."

Terry doesn't hide his surprise. "Uh, how'd you find that out?" He cautiously asks knowing there's no way Bruce would rat him out.

"When you dropped me off last week, I found a package at my door that was hand delivered by her. I have the address to my old house from the insurance papers, so I'm guessing she's staying there."

"You're going alone?" She shrugs. "I can come if you want," he offers, somehow knowing she would rather not go alone to a house that reminds her of tragedy.

"I'll be fine."

"Jazz, listen," he gets up and walks towards her. "I met her the other day," he hesitantly confesses and braces himself for the worst.

Surprisingly though, she remains composed. "Where?"

"Café by your place."

"What did she say?"

"She wants to talk to you."

She tosses him the keys, making him raise a brow. "How long do you need to get ready?"

"So you want me to go?"

"Only if you hurry up," she replies, leaving the room before letting out a quiet sigh of relief.


Driving up to the residence's closed gates, Terry turns the car off and looks at Jazz. "So, what now?"

Her eyes are glued on the mansion at the end of the short driveway when she answers, "ring the doorbell."

They both get out and Jazz presses the intercom button on the side of the gate. She waits a moment before pressing it again when no one answers. Receiving the same silence, she approaches the gate and looks around for signs of life but finds none. Giving it a moment's thought, Jazz pulls off her sling and begins climbing the gate.

"Hey," Terry stops her. "You're not breaking in."

Already two feet up, she replies without turning, "it's not breaking in. This is technically my home, so are you coming or not?"

Groaning inwardly, he follows her over the gate and walks the short distance to the mansion's large oak doors. She bends over to study the lock as Terry checks the first floor windows. He tries a few before finding one with a broken lock. Pulling the window open, he calls Jazz over and sneaks in with her closely following. Taking a look around, they find themselves in the family living room and a nostalgic smile crosses Jazz's lips when she finds the fireplace. Terry, meanwhile, takes a look around and drifts off into the hallway.

Jazz picks up a dusty picture frame and stares at the family photo taken when she was two. She wipes away the dust covering her father's face and smiles before putting it back to go look for Terry. She finds him wandering in the dining room and running a finger across the table.

"It's clean," he announces without looking up. "She's definitely here."

"The living room isn't."

"She probably hasn't gotten to it yet."

She turns and heads up the staircase, repressing the last memory she had in the house as she reaches her room with Terry close behind her.

When she opens the white and pink door to peer inside, her eyes go wide with shock before she quickly closes it and turns to Terry.

"What?" He asks, surprised by her reaction.

"She's in there," she whispers, pointing at the door.

Before Terry could say anything, the door swings open revealing Nicole's angry face before she recognizes the two intruders. Her jaw drops when Jazz spins to face her and, for a second, neither one can breathe.

Jazz though, takes a step back bumping into Terry before she finds her voice. "You wanted to talk?"