Anger and rage really were her new forte nowadays.
She hadn't stopped thinking about Bruce since she stormed out of the manor, even after she'd run all the way back from the manor to her apartment in the city, did some meditation, and tried to shove some dinner into her before she started to get ready to head out for the night.
Who did he think he was?
The entitlement had clearly gone to his head like it never had before if he truly felt like he had the right to come in and take the information off her like she
It's for the good of the city, she could almost hear him say.
Good of the city my ass.
She had been helping to defend Gotham for years, she would and had put it ahead of nearly anything else in her life. She had cracked bigger cases without him while he was off being brooding about robin and she knew she would again in the future. He had been a great teacher, the best in fact, but he had thought her all she needed to know and now she was well able to not only defend herself but the citizens of Gotham.
The master of all things knowing should have known that the demanding intel from her on the verge of a patrol was going to mess with her head. That was unless he had done this all as a ruse, a plan she didn't yet see to make her so annoyed by even asking for it that she would compromise herself and end up playing right into his hands.
It seemed outlandish, but you really couldn't take any chances with Wayne.
Of all the things that had changed in her over the years, the paranoia and second-guessing were the worst. Every single decision came with overthinking, every choice had to be carefully planned out and every truth told to her had to be analyzed for any hidden deception.
Her trust issues were now sky high and she often wondered if she would ever trust anyone fully and with her whole heart again, but somewhere deep inside her wished she could.
No matter how difficult and frankly scary it was to give yourself over to another human, completely and with all your heart to the point, you would trust them with your life, there was nothing quite like it. It gave you a rush of confidence that you would never have anywhere else.
She wondered if that was why Bat brain kept accepting new understudies because no matter how little they could trust him, he always knew he could rely on them.
So much for working alone.
She stood in her room, looking down at her equipment spread out across the bed. It was no Batcave, but it did the job. Her suit was lying flat across her bed as if it was resting before a long night of work, and beside it lay her tool belt, filled with batarangs, tear gas, a taser, a grappling hook, a swiss army knife, and a laser.
She let out a breath, almost in anticipation, before she moved to start putting on the metal suit. The legs went first, dragging against her skin, heavy like a weight, then the arms, one by one, and then a long zip that went from her stomach to the side of her chest, so as not to disrupt the large yellow bat symbol on the front.
She reached down, grabbing her cape, and clipped it to each of her shoulder pads. The yellow inside of the cape matched the bat symbol, giving the outfit almost a fashionable look as if it was designed to be on the front pages of a magazine.
Batgirl saves the day again!
Young vigilante following in the footsteps of the masked crusader bests Gotham's finest criminal minds yet again!
No one had warned her that fighting crime would be more blood stains and less Vogue.
Bruce Wayne wanted her to look professional to intimidate the scum who wore nothing but their badges of crime. However, all that did was encourage them to play dress up too, a bit of an unexpected consequence.
She pulled her all-black gloves on and activated the controls on them, which helped amplify grip and stop her from any nasty gashes from a knife that someone might try to stab her with as she gripped it in a twist.
Finally came the mask. The only thing that protected her and the ones she loved from her second life, the demons that she battled within back allies, rooftops, and prison cells. The ones that would skin her family alive just to get at her or the batman. What's one life to a crime lord who could use it to take down the one thing stopping him from world domination.
It was the first lesson that Bruce Wayne ever thought her, and it was the most valuable one too.
It went up and over her head, like a helmet, and sat right into place around her eyes. When she was younger, she told Bruce and Dick she would cut off all her hair so she could keep it out of her face, but when Alfred fashioned her, this new mask that kept it completely out of her face to the point she hardly noticed she had any.
She took a moment to look into the mirror before she rushed out into the night.
Her eyes bore into her reflection, almost as if she was judging herself. Her posture was straight, and her muscles were stiff as if she was ready to fight at any moment's notice. That was another advantage to this suit, it got you into character, ready to begin the act.
She was tired, but not just physically.
She was young but felt a million years old.
She was ready, but never so unsure.
One more deep breath and out her window she went, jumping straight into Gotham's arms.
She didn't even take notice of the fact she was headed towards the docks, that's just where she had found herself going nightly for the past few weeks.
It itched her to know that Batman would know exactly where to find her tonight if he wanted to track her down, but she needed to be here. It had been weeks of back and forth between Falcone's men and this new mysterious buyer and she knew sometimes this week would be a substantial meeting, ether between Falcone himself or his top henchman.
She landed roughly on top of a cargo crate, probably destined for somewhere in Europe, but tonight acting as leverage for her to see the entire Harbour.
Then she waited, another thing she didn't know would be a huge part of her career, and looked out for any signs of activity.
She didn't have to wait for long as towards the right end of the docks, right between two high-rise cargo containers, Babs saw the flickers of light that could only be torches. The docks had security, but they were often low-paid workers who would happily look the other way if it meant they could be slipped some much-needed money under the table.
The world was never all black or all white.
She waited until the sidemen had done their 'checks' around the surrounding area, hoping that they wouldn't bump into anyone ready to hit them with their crowbars, and when the lights stopped flashing aggressively, she snook over and perched herself in the shadows where she could see them, but they couldn't see her. She felt the cold container under her knee even through the suit, which was saying something.
All dealers met the same way.
Two sets of semi-circles facing each other and only ever two people talking. The rest were there for intimidation and protection, no one of importance but were usually the first to get hurt when It came to going up against the firing squad.
Tonight, was no different, a group of regular Falcone men stood around in a semi-circle, surrounding Arlo Griffin, the top man who ran all dealings when it came to buying and transporting product into Gotham. Once it was in it was passed down to the regular dealers who could pass it out to Gotham's communities, where they would usually wreck the lives of normal, hardworking people trying to make it day-to-day.
She wished she could solve the greater drug problem in Gotham by herself, but she knew that was going to take a lot more than just beating a few of the head dealers to a pulp and her band of merry bats to do that.
Arlo Griffin was a short stuffy man, attractive dark features with sharp eyebrows that meant he always looked serious even if he was laughing, which he rarely was. Tonight, as usual, he wore black trousers matched with a denim jacket that was closed up to the neck and let a gun hang off the side of his belt to look intimidating.
It usually worked, however, tonight he was opposite someone who Barbara had never seen before, but who definitely didn't look intimated.
The man looked like he belonged more in a lab than a drug deal. He was tall and lanky with large round glasses that made his nose look extremely pointy. He had sandy blonde hair and even though he looked out of place, his calmness showed he wasn't worried about the situation in the slightest.
Barbara caught them in the middle of their conversation.
"This needs to be done Griffin, we expected the shipment last week, my boss doesn't take kindly to timewasters."
"What would make you feel more comfortable with the job?" Arlo called to the un-named man, looking like he couldn't care less what the man wanted, but more just wanted to move the conversation along.
"I need to speak directly to your boss."
That caused a murmur and a few low laughs.
"Clearly you don't understand Gotham" Arlo spat.
Now it was time for the other man to laugh, a low almost evil laugh that caused the hair on the back of Barbara's neck to stand up, and she wasn't one to scare easy.
"Oh, believe me, I do. As does my boss." At this point, the man started pacing back and forth between his group of men and right in front of where Arlo was standing. "We know why Falcone has a problem with being seen in public because no number of bozos like you can protect him from the Batman."
That almost incited a reaction from Arlo, Barbara could tell as he placed his hand on the top of the gun on his waist, but he resisted reacting at all and she was impressed when replied in a cool tone as if he couldn't have cared less at the insult that was just sprung his way.
"End of the day, the boss won't come face to face unless your boss does, he doesn't usually deal in this type of product, so he is taking a risk by doing it already."
The other man stopped pacing and walked directly up to Arlo, so close Barbara could barely hear them speak.
"You better get your boss to decide what is more important, his pride or his money. He'll be getting none of it unless we get our product by this time next week."
Arlo looked taken back, which was rare from a man who was known to cut peoples tongue's out when they got on the wrong side of him. Why was it suddenly this man who was setting him on edge?
Barbara couldn't tell but watched keenly as the man backed away from Arlo and let his eyes go wide in a mocking way.
"The rest is up to your side Mr. Griffin, you know what we want" and with that, he stepped into the car that one of the henchmen was holding the door open from.
Who the hell is this guy?
Who is his boss?
What is the 'special product' that Falcone was importing into Gotham specifically for this deal?
Well, you aren't going to find out sitting around here, Barbara thought to herself and let Arlo and his guys sulk off into the shadows while she somersaulted down the containers and as she jumped down to ground level, she wiped out a control button and pressed it, causing a beeping to start.
When she got to the ground, she landed gracefully as if she had jumped onto a trampoline instead of the gravel. As she was standing up straight, the beeping got more intense until finally, it stopped, and she shows her bike drive itself around the corner and stop right at her feet.
She quickly jumped onto it, taking off the cruise control and speeding off into the night.
The wind rushed around her as she used the bike's nav system to track the car which had left the docks not two minutes before. When she locked on its location, she used her skills to catch up in record time, and as if by lightning she was suddenly behind the car which contained the mystery buyer.
She knew she couldn't let them get onto the highway or main road of any kind, too much risk of crashing into an innocent by-passer, so she swung the bike to line up right beside the driver's side and flipped on the cruise control, letting the smart bike take over the driving. She stood on the seat and took a minute to balance herself.
She was thankful that the car windows were blacked out because she might have a chance to avoid detection while she leaped, but in a minute it wouldn't matter.
She leaped from the bike and landed with a thud on the car roof. She knew she only had a matter of seconds before the individuals in her car would start trying to kill her through the metal, so she wasted no time in reaching down to the right side of the car and swinging open the back door.
Barbara heard the yelp of the man that she was now throwing out of the car, meaning that she had gone undetected as she rode behind them, which she counted as a win at this point. Then, when he was tumbling down the road, passing out along the way, she threw herself into the car without a second thought.
"Hello fellas" she quipped as she landed in a sitting position in the back suit. "Any room for me?"
At that moment, the man sitting beside her pulled a gun and pointed it directly at her face, ready to send her to the pearly white gates in the clouds. Before he could give her that honor though, she grabbed the base of the gun and pointed it upwards, causing him to shoot the roof of the vehicle, where she had been lying seconds before. At the same time, she used her flattened hand to hit him in the throat which caused a reflex in his body to push back against the car door.
She reached over and opened the second door, pushing him out. At this point, the driver had slowed the car down, meaning the man would be ok, but hopefully wouldn't try and run back into the action, like his Buddie further down the road.
She took a split second to recognize what a terrible position she had found herself in. She was now lying flat across the back of the car with her back completely exposed to any weapon or danger the two front-seat passengers had. Immediately she pushed herself up but it was too late, the passenger seat occupant had pulled out a knife and slashed her back.
The suit took most of the damage, but she still felt a sharp pain in her back, knowing she would have to stitch that up later. She pushed past the pain and sat back up in the back seat, facing her attacker head-on, and used her fist to knock the knife out of his hand while reaching around and grabbing the seat belt which he had strapped in with.
The belt wrapped around his neck, causing him to panic and grab frantically at it, which gave her time to reach down to her belt, grabbing mace and popping the cap off. She sprayed it straight into his face until she felt him stop struggling with the belt and pass out.
Suddenly the car came to a complete stop and the sudden jerk distracted her enough to let the driver turn around and punch her full force in the face.
Ouch
Before she could even get her bearings, the man was out of the car and running down the road away from the car.
"Not on my watch" she almost shouted as she jumped.
She had a few seconds on the man as she didn't have to open the door that had swung off when she had kicked another man out of its moments ago. She reached into her belt and pulled out a Batarang, steadied herself, and threw it directly at the man running away from her position.
It hit him directly in the back of the head and as she was about to walk over and finish him off, she was grabbed by the neck and pulled off the ground, causing her to choke.
The man who she had kicked out of the car a few meters away hadn't passed out and decided he did want to come back for more action.
She tried to use his body weight against him by pulling downwards towards her feet. It worked for a moment, causing the man to release her neck but once she turned around to face him, he grabbed her by the neck again and pushed her down towards the car bonnet, and started inflicting a beating that even Batman would be envious of.
She was getting absolutely pummeled. It was the only word for it.
This guy was strong, and he had her pinned up against the car so that she couldn't escape his grasp, so she was forced to endure the beating while she tried to out-think her opponent. She felt her nose crack and then start to bleed while tried to breathe through the pain with every break between each punch.
As he was beating her into submission, she realized he was the same man who got up into Arlo's personal space, the man who looked like he was the leader working for the main boss, just as Griffith himself was.
She finally got her break when he decided to start attacking her body with a blow to the ribs, which gave her time to reach behind her back and grab a shard of glass and use it to stab the man through the cheek with it. He screamed in her face and reached up on a reflex to try to aid the pain.
She thought it was ironic that he had been inflicting mind-numbing pain on her moments ago, but the moment she fights back, he screams in anger, as if she should roll over and take her fate and not trying to change her destiny as if it was pre-written.
Barbara pulled herself together and used all her strength to pull herself off the ground. She knew most of her strength would be reserved in her legs, so without a second thought, she used the end of her boot to kick the shard of glass all the way through his flesh, and in one swift move, she grabbed the back of his neck and pierced his skin with a tracker.
She hoped the pain in his cheek would distract him to the point he wouldn't realize he had just been injected, but she didn't have the time to hang around and see if he noticed.
It was now her time to run, she knew when to back down and she had done what she needed to do and now it was time to leave. She wouldn't last one more punch let alone another beating and she did want to live long enough to see the fruits of her labor.
While the man rolled around in pain, she jumped onto her bike that had stopped itself once she had jumped from it to the roof of the car and let the cruise control take her back to her apartment, desperate for any slight respite that she could get.
Sitting at her computer in her one-bedroom apartment was a usual position that Barbara Gordon often found herself. No matter how much she trained in gymnastics, excelled in academics, or locked up another of Gotham's criminals, she felt she truly strived in front of a computer screen.
She could hack anything, faster than anyone and make sure no one was any the wiser to her intrusion on a company or a drug lord's accounts.
Tonight, she was waiting for her tracking device to come online, praying that the man hadn't realized he was being tracked and cut it out on the spot. So far it hadn't pinged online, but sometimes it took a few hours to synchronize with the tech.
She had already taken off her suit, washed away the blood around her face and nose, and stitched up her back, which had been incredibly hard to do considering she had to do it looking in a mirror. Now she was sitting only in a tank top and her underwear, letting the chill of the night creep over her.
She looked down at the digital clock and cringed as it read 5:49 on it.
The sun would start to rise soon, and she would have to face a new day of trying to cover up the excessive marks on her face. It was always a new challenge to her to try and come up with new ways to use makeup to cover up a black eye or a swollen lip.
A messed-up challenge for sure, but still one she semi-enjoyed.
You had to take all the small joys in life you could, and Barbara was determined to take any small win she could.
Just like when the tracker finally came online, and she realized she had gotten away with the implantation. She quickly scanned the screen, seeing he was in lower Gotham in a warehouse that she knew many of her victims went for medical attention as to not arouse suspicion in a general hospital.
She knew if she could keep monitoring him for even a few more days, she would have her key directly to this new buyer and find out what the hell he was trying to bring into Gotham.
Finally, the sun broke up through the horizon and almost hit her in the face, like a reminder she had to give in to her body and finally sleep. Which was at the exact moment she accepted that tomorrow's problems could wait till then.