Disclaimer: Birds of Prey, its characters, and concepts are the property of Warner Brothers, Tollin-Robbins Productions & DC Comics.

A/N: This is an idea that I've been playing with for some time.

This story takes place shortly after Barbara's paralysis (before she becomes Oracle). I'd often wondered how she acquired the Clocktower, the trust fund to run it, etc. I hope you enjoy MY explanation, at least. :)

Mission: Impossible

Barbara sat in the lavishly appointed hotel room at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel, fingering the videotape that lay in her lap. A combination TV/VCR sat in the corner before her.

Why did Bruce bring me here? she wondered. What does he want with me?

She looked down at the videotape. The words "PLAY ME" were written in black Magic Marker on the label. Might as well, she thought as she inserted the tape into the VCR and pressed "Play". There appeared onscreen the image of a middle-aged Bruce Wayne with salt-and-pepper hair sitting behind an oak desk.

"Hello, Barbara … Batgirl," he said, greeting her in his familiar baritone. "My old friend."

Now that we've got THAT squared away.

"By the time you see this, I will have already left New Gotham."

Barbara picked up a remote control that was lying on top of the TV, pushed a button, paused the tape, and stared at the screen in disbelief. Bruce Wayne leaving New Gotham? she thought. I always thought the two were inseparable. She pushed another button and resumed the tape.

"I'm old," said Bruce. "I can't go on." Bruce paused. "That knee replacement two years ago should've told me something … but it didn't."

You always were a stubborn bastard, Barbara thought with a smile.

"Like it or not, this city needs a hero … and I can't do it anymore," Bruce continued. "I couldn't protect you … or Selina."

Barbara paused the tape. "Dear God … you can't be everywhere at once!" she yelled at the screen. She resumed the tape.

"I'm charging you with one … actually, two … final missions," said Bruce. "First, I want you to complete … my work."

Barbara paused the tape and looked down at her now-useless legs. You've gotta be kidding, she thought. How can I kick ass when I can't even … kick? She resumed the tape.

"I know what you're thinking," said Bruce. "I'm fully aware of your … disability." Bruce paused. "You may recruit as many assistants as necessary to carry out this task."

"Recruit an assistant," Barbara thought wryly. Easiest thing in the world. Just place an ad in the New Gotham Gazette: "Help Wanted: Superhero. Must be willing to dodge bullets and work long hours for no pay."

"Second," said Bruce. "I want you to take care of my daughter."

Barbara paused the tape and stared slack-jawed at the screen. Now he's REALLY lost it, she thought. I, Barbara Gordon … a mother? She resumed the tape and stared at the screen in stunned silence as Bruce droned on … something about a Clocktower … and Alfred. Me … raise Helena? I'd seen the kid off-and-on a few times since she was young (I'm still trying to figure out whatever possessed her mother to even let me come NEAR her) but I never dreamed I'd be asked to RAISE her.

Bruce signed off the tape by saying, "Good luck, Barbara … and thank you."

Barbara pressed a button on the remote and switched off the VCR. What will I do now?