Chapter One

            For over an hour they'd talked; the sixteen-year-old daughter of a once famous cat-burglar and the former rooftop adventurer turned information gatherer. For over an hour they'd asked each other questions, each one subtly gauging the other to see if there were any suspicious incongruities in the other one's answers. Neither woman could find any.

            For Helena Kanly, daughter of the infamous Catwoman, the night still hadn't lost its edge. She still felt nervous, tense, even though, deep down, she felt she could trust the woman sitting across from her. After watching her mother's murder and having two attempts on her own life, and now finding out another attempt by a criminal mastermind had been made to locate her for unknown reasons, Helena wasn't surprised by her inability to instantly trust someone.

            For Barbara Gordon, formerly Batgirl, now the information guru and world renowned computer hacker known as Oracle, the night had also taken on a bit of a surreal quality. She'd never expected to become the guardian of the child of a known super villain. Having to explain her work as a cyber-super-hero was even further from her mind.

            She could tell Helena was having a difficult time, anxious and eager in one moment and sullen and withdrawn the next. Barbara felt for her because she knew some of those conflicting emotions herself. Every time she felt like she'd come to terms with living the rest of her life in a wheelchair, something would happen to reopen those mental wounds. Only time and a strong will had any hope of overcoming such things and even they were fickle beasts.

            "So what is Batman's real name?" Helena asked.

            "Sorry," Barbara smiled. "I can't tell you that."

            "You told me who you were."

            "Not entirely by choice," Barbara reminded the girl. "Even so, I don't have the right to spill other people's secrets. And even some of my secrets need to stay secret if they could possibly compromise someone else."

            Both women turned at the sound of another's approach. Dinah Lance, also known as the Black Canary, walked down the stairs wearing a pair of jeans and a black, sleeveless shirt. As she got closer, Barbara could see a bruise starting to form on her temple where she'd been hit earlier with the butt of a gun. Concealer couldn't quite cover it completely.

            "If everything's okay here, I'm going to head down stairs," she said. "Do me a favor and keep any life threatening emergencies to a minimum for the rest of the night."

            "I'll buzz you if we need you," Barbara said. "I don't see any reason why we should, though. Tell Gibson I said hi." Gibson was the manager of a bar Dinah own at the base of the Gotham Clock Tower, in the top of which they now stood. The Clock Tower consisted of mostly business offices, with Barbara's apartment and secret base of operations taking up the top two floors and the main clock area. A secret elevator connected the top of the tower to the rest of the building.

            "I'll do it." She started to leave but noticed Helena staring at her. "Yes?"

            "I thought you were a blonde?" Helena asked.

            Dinah twirled a strand of the dark wig she was wearing. "Secret identity. A pair of glasses and a cow-lick doesn't work for everyone."

            Dinah winked a Barbara and left. When Helena turned her puzzled look to Barbara, the older woman said, "Don't ask."

            After a brief silence, Helena asked, "How did my mother save your life?"

            Barbara took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

            "You don't ask the easy ones," she said.

            "Is it bad? Did she do something wrong?"

            "No, no," Barbara said, waving her hand to dismiss the notion. "That part's not. It's just that a lot happened that day, including this." She thumped the arm of the wheelchair. "It's also the day that…well, let's just say that a lot happened that day. It's a long story." 

             "We have time."

            Barbara nodded and tried to think of a way to avoid the subject. She wished she's never said anything but it was too late for that. Her palms were sweating just thinking about it and she rubbed her palms against her skirt.

"Okay. Let me get another cup of coffee and I'll tell you all about it."