Title: Once Bitten

Chapter Completed: April 9, 2004

The usually dark and empty halls of Arkham were lit and busy. A whole department of the GCPD had conjugated in the gothic wing of the building. The Joker's escape was enough to draw a crowd, but add it that the female accomplice and the danger doubled – as did the attendance.

Batgirl walked through the corridor, trying her best to ignore the rising catcalls. The affectionate name of bitch regenerated most commonly from cell to cell. She had had a hand in most of their incarcerations.

Commissioner Gordon gave the crime fighter a welcoming nod as she approached. "We couldn't move them," he felt he should offer some sort of apology for having her go through that. He always felt this strange need to protect the female third of the city's crime fighting sect.

She simply nodded, taking a look around. She always hated dealing with her father in these situations. It made the double life seem like a lie.

"The Joker escaped, with the aid of a female…" Gordon began immediately with business.

"Harley Quinn?" Batgirl asked, peering into the now uninhabited cell, the empty uniform and straightjacket on the floor.

"Locked up on her own," he continued without missing a beat, "Just unlocked the door and let him out. Cleaned out his effects too. Not one guard stopped them."

The hero nodded along, listening and looking.

"Left you that," Gordon pointed to the card and envelope in the wall, "At least I think it's for you." He ran his hand through his hair.

"Anyone touch it?" Batgirl asked, cautiously approaching the left over relic.

"No one wants to," came the blunt reply.

Again came a nod. Reaching with her gloved hand the hero carefully pulled the trademark card from the wall, releasing the addressed envelope. She held her breath before cracking the seal – when the Joker was concerned one could never be too careful. But the content was only a folded piece of paper, which she dumped in her hand. Unfolding it, the small note read:

B,

Hey hon, long time no see. But I told you I'd be back, didn't I? Unfinished business you know. But don't worry, I haven't told anyone of your little secrets, relax Babs. It'll be good seeing you again though.

Kisses –S.

Batgirl quickly refolded the letter, careful not to appear alarmed and also to not allow anyone to see the text.

"Do you know who sent it?" Commissioner Gordon voiced the important question.

"Ah, yes, actually," she was lost in her thoughts, remembering her encounter with the letter's writer.

The rooftop of Gotham Arms Apartments was slick. It rained hours earlier, giving the night an ominous, calm feeling. It put everyone on edge. This city was never calm.

Batgirl found herself stationed atop the building in a stand off with an almost hysterical brunette, who was teetering closer to the edge: both figurative and literal.

"You're going to hurt yourself," came the lame warning. She was trying to coax her in from the edge.

The young woman laughed. A broken, twisted laugh, "Like they haven't hurt me already!" She turned sharply, but did not come off the stone ledge.

"Please," the hero took a panicked step closer to her. She felt worried for the girl, feeling some strange pity for her.

"Don't pity me!" she suddenly shrieked.

"Just please come down," she called back, "You don't want to fall…"

The stranger laughed again in her sad way, "I've already made two people jump." And with that she hopped off the ledge and on to the flat roof surface.

"Two people?" the hero tried to question, but the other just continued.

"Although I wouldn't call them people, not for what those bastards did to me. He raped me and the other let him!" the young woman continued to rant, facing the costumed audience, "Don't you hate it? The way these men take you and use you anyway they see fit? To hell with what SHE thinks or feels. It's for your own good he says, trust him he says. After all he has the power, he's the man. He can use you anyway he sees fit!"

The rant slowly resided and made sense to Batgirl. Each uttered statement she had experienced. And the other woman knew it, she could read it.

"I see you know too," a small smile tugged at her mouth, drawing up the corners, "Tell me, what does the Batman do to you, Barbara?"

Batgirl stumbled back. How could she know who hid under the mask?

"Don't worry," she spoke in a soothing voice, slowly creeping closer, "I won't tell them your secrets, any of those secrets." She was only inches away, her eyes sympathetic and hand gently caressing what was exposed of her face…

Batgirl shook her head, clearing the metal cobwebs and to answer the waiting officer. "Sara Adams," she replied clearly, "The one with the Joker is Sara Adams…or Star."

The Commissioner nodded, almost confused by the nickname, but went to report the all-important details to the other officers.

Batgirl though, was plagued with the other memories in her head.

It was the second time Barbara had met Sara, only this was without the pretence of cap and cowl. There was no point with her, she already knew. Claimed she could read it in Barbara's mind. That was part of the reason she was there, locked up for help at the upscale psychiatric hospital. The bankroll by Barbara and the recommendation from Batgirl had kept her out of Arkham. It just didn't seem right to lock her away in that dark place. But Barbara felt many different things when it came to this new woman.

"Hiya Babs," Sara didn't even look up from her book. Being locked away and studied gave her plenty of time for her own research. At the moment it was Telekinesis.

"Sara," she carefully entered the white washed private room. She didn't fear her, but she was still on edge.

"I hear I'm to thank you for me accommodations," finally the inmate put away her book and looked up at her guest.

A half smile tugged at Barbara's mouth.

"But I'm not crazy," Sara stated bluntly, rising to her feet and advancing on the guest, "But you never believe me."

"Well, you believe you can control people's minds," Barbara began to justify herself.

"Because I can. Read them too," she smiled at her, a twisted little smile, "You mind is an interesting book."

Barbara took a large step back, shaking her head. The very idea disturbed her.

"Let me show you," a twinkle showed in Sara's eyes. Easily she pushed a small call button, signalling doe an orderly to come to the room.

In good time a broad shouldered man, dressed in a white cotton pantsuit, came strolling into the room. "Problem?" his voice was gruff and uninterested.

"Just need help," Sara smiled, than began speaking in a soft, musical tone, "Fetch me that jug." She pointed across the room.

Automatically, he retrieved the object for her and waited patiently for the next command.

"Not convinced?" she asked the audience of one, "I'll take it up a notch…" her smile twisted. Turning to the man the sweet musical tone left her mouth again, "Dear, jump out that window."

In shocked awe, Barbara watched as the orderly began to carry out his orders. The man went to the room's only window and started throwing himself against the bars and glass. It wasn't until the glass shattered and blood began oozing from the cut on his forehead that Barbara broke from her awe and panicked.

"Call him off! Call him off!"

Sara sighed, "Stop," she suggested to the dominated man.

And he again followed the direction, stopping his movement. A confused look covered his face, "Anything else Star?"

Sara simply shook her head and dismissed the exemplified man.

Turning back around she caught the questioning gaze of Barbara, "I was thinking of using that as my name, when I continue with my work, Star." She pulled at the collar of her shirt to reveal the corner of the star shaped scar on her chest, "Seems fitting." It was, after all, typical to name oneself after what creates them.

Barbara looked at her almost sadly, "You need help."

Sara laughed, "And you really think this place will help me? Why would the same bastards who hurt me ever help me? They made me doll, you of all people should understand that."

Even now, the two years later, she saw it. Batgirl and Barbara could relate to the same feelings that Star and Sara expressed. She just had no idea how deeply the social cuts went for Sara. But she was about to find out. As was the rest of Gotham.