A/N This chapter is actually Barbara-centric. I love her character so much and so I wanted to devote a little more of this fic to her. I also just wanted to write about Babs taking care of herself when put into a bad situation.

As always, please enjoy!

XxX

Barbara glanced up at the wall clock. Her shift at the Gotham Public Library was almost over and she was looking forward to heading home.

"Barbara?" Mrs. Harrison, the elderly librarian, called from her place behind the reference desk. She only had a few left, then she'd help Mrs. Harrison lock up and go home, where she'd relax, have dinner with her father and, if Batgirl wasn't needed tonight, catch up on a few of her shows.

Barbara looked up from her work, putting returned books back on their shelves. "Mrs. Harrison?"

The elderly woman shuffled around her desk, as the last patrons of the day walked out the door, several books each tucked under their arms.

She reached for her glasses, perched atop her mountainous up-do. She peered at her apologetically. "Would you mind emptying the bathroom trash for me, dear? It's the last thing that needs to be done before closing."

Barbara looked up, putting the last of the books away in its proper place. Taking out the trash would only make her around five minutes late in heading home. The Dumpster was located behind the library. Not really a good place for a girl to be at this time, but there was no way she was going to allow Mrs. Harrison do this.

Barbara wheeled the cart back to its place behind the desk. "Of course."

The woman smiled gratefully and Barbara got a glimpse of her exhaustion peeking through the cracks. It had been a long day. "Thank you, Barbara."

"It's no trouble." Barbara put on her best, warmest smile. Really, it wasn't.

The woman sighed, shaking her head. "Really, where would I be without you, Barbara?"

"You'd be without someone to take out your garbage, that's for sure," Barbara joked, earning a light slap on the wrist from Mrs. Harrison.

"You smart aleck, you!" she scolded, but the fondness was clear in her eyes. "Go take out the trash and don't get yourself into any trouble, you hear?"

"I hear," Barbara answered over her shoulder as she tied the bag from the trash can nearest the reference desk closed, before replacing it with a new one she'd grabbed from the drawer.

The Gotham wind blew her hair in her face as she stepped outside and settling a chill in her bones.

She shivered, tucking her hair back, and stepped carefully down the stairs and into the wide alley beside the library.

The sun was already setting, leaving just enough light to see by, and she sighed, trudging to the Dumpster and hauling the trash bag along with her.

Barbara lifted the lid, hoisting the trash bag in and dusted off her hands.

She took a step back, finally allowing herself a weary sigh of relief.

It had been a long day. She was happy to be heading home.

"Hey, sweetheart." Barbara gasped, as a hand caught hold of her wrist, spinning her around so that she was face to face with her antagonist.

He was a young man, hair spiked, ear piercings, tattoos running up and down his arms.

He smiled at her, but there was nothing friendly or charming there.

Barbara narrowed her eyes dangerously, even as her heart rate increased.

Stupid. She'd been stupid. Tired and anxious to go home, she'd forgotten to pay attention to her surroundings.

"Let go of me," she warned, keeping her voice low. She didn't want this to turn into a physically violent altercation, but if she had to fight him, she would.

"Why would I do that, sweetheart? You and I were obviously meant for each other." Was that his idea of a pickup line? Barbara almost gagged. "No one has to get hurt," he coaxed, that damn smile never wavering.

"No," Barbara plastered on her best fake smile, "but someone damn well will if you don't let go of my arm right now. Just walk away and I won't hurt you."

He laughed, loud and raucous, swaying a little, and Barbara realized he had been drinking. Maybe not a lot, since he still seemed to possess basic articulation skills, but it should make him easier to deal with. "Y're funny," he slurred, still smiling that damned smile.

"I'm sorry," Barbara said, really not sorry at all, "but I really have to go. My dad is waiting for me." Which was stretching the truth only slightly. Her dad was waiting for her. Just not nearby as she was trying to imply. Hopefully, thinking that she wasn't here alone would be all that was needed to convince him to leave her be.

The man didn't seem at all concerned. "Let him wait."

Her forced smile didn't falter. "You don't want to meet him. He's the police commissioner."

He was close enough for her to smell his reeking breath now. "Your dad could be the president for all I care, hon."

Okay, here goes. She'd let this go too far.

Barbara slammed the heel of her palm into the man's chin, snapping his head back and causing him to release his grip on her hand.

"Bitch!" The man swore, spitting blood on the pavement, and Barbara turned to run.

The man grabbed for her arm again, but she tore out of his grip, felt his nails leave scratches down her arm, didn't feel the pain.

She hadn't gotten far when she felt someone grab her, dragging her back. Damnit, Drunk had a friend.

Barbara opened her mouth to scream, but the sound never left her throat as the man holding her realized what she was about to do and silenced her with a hand over her mouth.

"Not as funny," the original man gasped, rubbing his chin and looking dazed, "as I thought."

"You're crazy, Lenny!" the man holding her snapped and, furious now, Barbara reached up grabbing two fistfuls of his hair and yanking with all her might, as she slammed her heel down onto his foot.

The man cried out, releasing her, and she spun around, kneeing him in the stomach, and the man doubled over gasping.

Barbara finished it with a kick to the face, then turned on her previous attacker.

"You still think I'm 'funny?'" she snarled, seething.

The young man, Lenny, took a step back.

"H-Hey, we were just messing around," he stammered, raising his hands in surrender.

Too bad.

Barbara lunged forward, catching the man with a right hook to the face.

As he slumped against the wall, unconscious, Barbara sucked in a shaky breath, tears stinging her eyes.

What had just happened? What had just happened?

She wasn't Batgirl right now. She wasn't equipped with her usual gear so she was forced to just leave them and wait for the police to show up.

Turning, she staggered out of the alley and to her car. Leaning against the doorframe, she buried her face in her palms, before composing herself enough to reach for her phone.

She needed to talk to someone after that. She just needed to talk.

"Barbara? Barbara, is everything alright?" Mrs. Harrison called out, locking the library's main entranceway and carefully making her way down the steps and towards Barbara.

Her eyes roved over Barbara's disheveled appearance before alighting on the unconscious thugs. She gave a little gasp, hand flying to her mouth. "Good heavens, Barbara! What…?"

"Mrs. Harrison, please, can you call the police?" she asked, pleadingly. "Those men…"

She didn't need to go any further. Mrs. Harrington understood immediately and a spark of rage lit up her features.

"Absolutely!" she huffed indignantly. There was no doubt in her mind who was in the wrong here… and that "who" was not her star library volunteer. "Have no worries, dear!" She glared furiously at the unconscious bodies, before leaving with a shake of her head. "Young ruffians… think they own the world!" Barbara heard her mutter under her breath.

If she hadn't been so shaken, Barbara would have smiled. Mrs. Harrington was like a grandmother to her.

Barbara scrolled through her contacts. Her thumb hovered for a moment over Dad before she changed her mind, selecting the one right below it, bringing the phone to her ear.

Her dad would find out once she informed the police and she didn't need to deal with his worry or his rage right now. It wouldn't do anything.

"Hello?" A cheery voice answered after the second ring. "Babs, that you?"

"Dick?" Her voice sounded shaky and breathless, even to her own ears.

"Barbara?" The change in tone was immediate. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"I-I'm fine." Breathe in. Breathe out. You're okay. You're fine. Breathe in. Breathe out. The words were like a mantra. "I'm fine now." She almost regretted calling him and making him worry. There was nothing he could do either.

"Barbara." Dick's words were gentle, meant to coax the truth from her. "I know you want to talk about it, because you wouldn't have called otherwise. Where are you?"

She opened the car door, sliding into the driver's seat and resting her forehead against the steering wheel. "The library," she answered. Before Dick could ask about it being after hours, she continued, "We were locking up… I was taking the trash out for her and…" Barbara swallowed. "There were these men in the alley…"

She heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end and hastened to add, "Dick, I'm fine. I mean it. Nothing happened. I took care of them." She allowed herself a small smile. Funny how she was the one reassuring him now. "I… I don't think they'll be bothering anyone for some time."

There was a shaky laugh from the other end. "You show 'em, Babs," he said and even over the phone, his grin was infectious. Then, more seriously, "Barbara, do you want me to come down there?"

"What?" That hadn't been her intention at all. She shook her head even though, over the phone, the gesture was pointless. "Dick, you can't come down here! What about your homework?"

"You really think I'm worried about my homework right now, Babs?" Dick sounded shocked. "You're going to have to wait down there for the cops anyways. Are you sure you want to do that alone? I'm sure Alfred would be willing to take me."

"No!" Barbara said, a little too quickly. Then she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Please don't tell Alfred anything, Dick. Besides, I'll have Mrs. Harrison with me," Barbara assured him more gently, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

"Okay," Dick said seriously. Barbara could sense his reluctance. "Fine. I won't tell Alfred, Babs but just… please, be careful."

"Barbara!" Mrs. Harrison was hurrying back, waving the phone in her hand. "The police are on their way! We'll soon set those vagabonds straight!"

"Barbara?" Dick's voice was far away and her attention immediately returned to the phone.

"I'm still here," Barbara said. She turned her eyes back to Mrs. Harrison. "I… I have to go. The police will be here soon, but…" she quickly wiped her eyes, "thank you, Dick."

She ended the call.

A/N I apologize if it seems that that ended abruptly, but there's more to come next chapter, which will be out next week.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please review!