I don't own any of this except, fine, for Kala and the gangsters.

Oh and pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssseeeeeeeee review. Really. Please.

So.

She'd been stalking them long before they'd come. Maybe that was what made her snarl softly in frustration. Those goons were hers! It was her right to exact punishment! It was her vengeance that should be unleashed! Damn it, it was her life they had destroyed, and she must complete at least this task before she succumbed to death. At least this before she take her life.

So now what to do? Yes, she welcomed death now and would gamble all for revenge, but all three strangers looked overly intimidating no matter how much she told herself that they were just lunatics in ultra-durable pajamas. And even if she did dare to confront them, her cover would be blown instantly. There was only so much a moldy pile of blankets could do, after all.

So just sit. And glare. And wait.

Perfect.

Even as V-dude vaulted up above her prey, Circus Kid and Cool Cape maneuvered stealthily until the gang was between them. Kala ground her teeth in frustration even as she felt tension crawling through her back. What were they thinking? Jesus Christ, those guys were armed enough to be part robot, and three mis-dressed musketeers want to take them on with no guns whatsoever? She ignored the little voice in the back of her mind that pointed her two, puny knives to her, and shook her head in disgust. Stupid people. So what if they moved like something out of nightmares and novels? Stupid people. . .

She soon took that back.

At some invisible signal, V-dude swung down from his perch at one, heavily armed gangster. Circus Kid kept in time with him, catching a slightly lankier one in the jaw before lashing his foot to another guy's chest. V-dude paused, uttered something in an amused, I'm-just-gonna-throw-out-the-trash sort of voice before dancing –dancing? –away from another attack and delivering some payback.

And Cool Cape? Kala swung her head in search of Mr. All in Black before spotting him on the opposite side. He's ambitious, she thought idly as she saw him up against four, five, six gangsters. The first swung at him, only to find himself on the ground a few seconds afterwards. That was the first. The second and third followed in approximately twelve seconds. As the fourth tried his luck, Kala found herself wishing for popcorn.

Then, suddenly, she spotted something behind him. Something dark and sneaky and sinister-looking. Something that had a glint of silver sub-machine gun. Cool Cape was thoroughly occupied with a little swarm of robo-guys, and Kala saw a flash of the 'if no one steps in now' future for just a moment.

She was enough. Damned if she'd let them take another.

Even as Kala leaped out from her loyal blankets, she saw the shadow take shape and take aim. A mental scream of 'you've only got two knives!' ran through her head even as she flung one of the sharpened quicksilver weapons at it. Cool Cape swung around to stare at the gunman, then at her, then continued with his onslaught.

Stupid girl, now you've only got one knife! She snarled under her breath as she gave up her cover and started at the gangsters. She knew street fighting only, but it had served her in the past and would do so now. Even if she was used to two knives. A pointed mental glare at Cool Cape was at this point issued.

Then-

Thwap

She stared blankly at the black dagger-thing in her hand.

So she did have two knives.

Instinctively, Kala settled into the ever-wary street fighter crouch, knives held out threateningly. Maybe it was her size, or gender (which it better not have been), or lack or Halloween pajamas, but the gangsters ignored her completely. Fine, then. Easier for her. At least she wouldn't get shot so quickly.

She lunged quickly at a man facing his back to her, stabbing his hand to rid him of the gun. Then she hefted the knife steadily despite what she knew for a fact was a ghost-white face. Kala gritted her teeth and slashed out-

Only to find her blow deflected by the lunatic Cool Cape. He glared at her menacingly.

"No. Death."

And with that, he delivered a punch hard enough to send the gun man flying back to dreamland.

Fine, then.

Kala attacked in earnest, keeping herself discreet and lunging forwards only at moments of enemy distraction. And yes, fine, she did have an annoying habit of going for the back or blind spots. She was a scrapper, after all, and moral took second place to avoiding bullets.

Two, three, four down to her, by which time all three pajama boys were done and tying the gang up. She'd have joined in, really she would, but anything more complicated than a double knot was a bit out of her league. Anyway, she was more than willing to tip toe a little ways out of he-

"I would speak with you a moment," Cool Cape growled without looking up from his work. His voice, she realized, was dark and soft, somewhat like an all-consuming shadow.

Another voice, serious but full of laughter, and both at the same time, spoke up.

"Batman, I think you're scaring her."

"Enough, Nightwing."

"Aye aye, sir. Anything, sir. Should I run to get you Starbucks coffee, sir."

"Nightwing."

Enough was enough. She was not scared of anything, much less some. . . 'Batman' and 'Nightwing'.

"I'm sorry?" She demanded, "Why should I be scared of you? That was my mission you guys stole! And anyway, I saved your life!"

Cool Cape –Batman –dropped his gaze for a moment in barely evident discomfort.

"Your interference was. . . useful. However, please do not delude yourself into believing in its necessity." His voice was low and threatening and Kala found herself gaping in shock.

Who did he think he was! She snarled in anger and would have probably said something not so pretty had she not seen Circus Kid frantically shaking his head. The foreboding in his eyes –foreboding for her –stalled her little outburst.

Fine, she could deal with this. She gritted her teeth as Batman turned back to his work. Nightwing slipped next to her with a wink and an apologetic grin.

"Sorry about Mr. Dark and Scary here," he said in a not-so-soft whisper, "we've tried everything, honestly: two dozen psychiatrists, a couple hundred stress balls, even that one mad scientist with a cure all inve-"

"Nightwing."

"So sorry, sir. Won't happen again, sir," the laughter in Nightwing's brought a little smile to her own, the first since. . . she didn't want to think about that.

"Robin. Hurry up." Circus Kid, or Robin, rather, nodded seriously and quickened his pace. Nightwing merely slowed down and stared expectantly at Batman.

"Nightwing, you too," the sigh was audible in the order. The younger man laughed quietly and carried on, as Batman turned his attention to Kala.

"You tell me that too, and I will punch," she said with a glare of her own.

"I doubt your punch will damage," came the emotionless reply.

"Wanna bet?"

"No."

Kala opened her mouth, then shut it again, trying and failing to think of a comeback.

"Well, screw you," she snapped finally.

"I'd rather not," came the reply, and she almost thought she saw his mouth twitch upwards.

Kala was not amused.

"Excuse me. If there's nothing else you have to say to me I'll be going now." I have a grave to visit, a death to plan. . .my death to plan. . .

"There is something else." Batman waited until the last of the gangsters were tied and the police called before continuing.

"Follow."

Kala glared.

"Says the man of many words," Nightwing grinned as he swung towards the nearest building behind Batman.

Kala's glare lessened.

"Sorry about that," Robin said casually as he passed.

Fine. No more glare. But how was she going to reach the roof of that building.

Stairs. Of course. Stairs. Fourteen, fifteen flights of stairs.

Brilliant.

She started slowly for the building before suddenly feeling a thump and thud and a world without any ground.

"Oops, sorry about that," Nightwing flashed a disarming smile that effectively reduced her annoyance by about half, "I thought Robin would do the grunt wo- the great work, but apparently not."

"Grunt work?" She questioned suspiciously.

"No, no," he denied, thinking quickly, "the gruntwolz. It's this thing where you pick up someone by-"

This time Kala laughed out loud.

"You lie horribly," she snickered as the rooftop came close within sight.

"Yes, I do," he admitted with absolutely no remorse, "but I'm cute enough to get away with murder."

"Well, maybe not murder," she sighed as distant memories rushed through her. Nightwing was wise enough not to comment, and they reached the rooftop in silence –not the uncomfortable, get-lost-please silence, a nice silence. And nice was a word that had not been with Kala for a while.

Batman was waiting with his back to them. Nightwing gave her a final encouraging grin before letting her go. Almost regretfully, she made her way there as the now-familiar and hated voice began to speak.

"You spoke of this being your mission. In what way." It was a statement rather than a question, and Kala felt her hackles rise instinctively.

"That's for me to decide if I want to tell, now, isn't it," she snapped back, hearing Robin's sharp intake of breath and sensing rather than seeing Nightwing's silent laugh.

"Then will you."

"Will I what?"

"Tell."

"NO!" Her yell was anger and frustration all in one. Batman remained unperturbed.

"I would be glad to know if there were another crime fighter in my city."

"You mean 'will you dress up in fancy pajamas and swing around town'? I think not," she said harsher than she intended, but maybe not as harsh as was needed.

"Then?"

Damn him! Could he not let up?

"They. . .took something of mine," she snarled through gritted teeth.

"And what was that."

My dream. My home. My love.

"My life."

Now Batman swung around to stare at her. He must be cleverer than she'd given him credit for, then. Nightwing's sharp hiss and Robin's gasp told her much the same.

"A life should not be taken so lightly," he replied carefully, as if weighing his words with a scientific scale.

"It hasn't been," she retorted dryly, suddenly just too damned tired to care anymore, "believe me, it hasn't."

"It feels that way for some time," he nodded to her when she gaped at him, "it feels like you've had your soul ripped from you at first, then later as if you have nothing left to really live for. It never really stops."

"They say that time will tame it," she murmured softly as tears fell unnoticed down her face, "they told me that it'll be gone one day, but-"

"It never will," Batman seemed to be staring at the something that was not quite there, "you'll smile again, and talk, and live, but it will never go away."

"Then. . . then how could you carry on?"

He sighed then, and gazed at her, and she knew truth when she saw it.

"You have to weigh what you've lost with what you have left. I had revenge. Then I had duty. And then as time past. . ." Now his gaze softened and his lips shifted into a bittersweet smile, "as time past I had another. One that tipped the scales completely."

He turned slightly to look at Nightwing, who stood as if frozen, before smiling softly again and starting away from all three of them. Black called to black and soon he was shadowed by darkness. Before he disappeared completely, a voice rang quietly through the still night's air.

"What do you have?"

What did she have? She who had lost so much, seen so much destroyed. What did she have?

Nightwing turned and gave her a grin bright enough to encompass most of her heart. Robin looked near tears. And as they swung away into the darkness, she thought she knew.

Hope. That bright green sapling amidst all the dirt and despair. She had that. It wasn't much. Compared to the canopies of green and gold it once had been, the little sapling wasn't much at all. But maybe, just maybe, it was enough. Just this once, it was enough.

Kala gazed quietly into the blanket of nightfall before slowly heading down the staircase to her new life.

Fairies came out at night.