A/N: Thanks for the reviews, and thanks to my brilliant beta, Angel Queen.

Chapter Four—Temper Temper

She did make it in ten minutes, surprisingly. Sarah sipped methodically on her iced mocha, doing her utmost to ignore the high-pitched giggling across the Metro Tower cafeteria. She was pretty sure nearly everyone else in the room was doing the same, though with a little less success. "So," she said, "let's review. What are we doing here again, Kyra?"

Kyra Stewart looked up from her salad incredulously. "We're getting the Flash twins back, remember?" she demanded. "They took my diary, copied it, and splashed the pages all over the Metro Tower and the Watchtower!"

"I believe they only copied the pages where you describe Michael Queen as a 'total dreamboat'," Sarah commented.

Kyra glared at her. "Beside the point. The brats invaded my privacy and no one does a damn thing about it!" she snapped. "I can't get justice from the so-called adults around here, so I'm taking matters into my own hands."

Sarah heard Nicky's laughter join the giggling, but steadfastly refused to react to it. Draining the last of her iced mocha, she then said, "Honestly, Ky, if you–"

"Oh Nicky, you're hilarious!"

Sarah's hand curled into a fist, crushing the empty paper cup in its grip. "She didn't..." She turned and glared across the suddenly-silent room.

Michaela Kent and Nicholas Wayne sat at what practically the entire League referred to as the Dating Table, the table that only couples sat at because it provided some measure of privacy. In this case, though, Michaela's soprano tones pretty much negated any illusions of solitude. Everyone could hear her. She had Prometheus had been 'dating' – screwing around – for a few weeks now.

Sarah glared at the half-Kryptonian bitch and then turned to look at her twin brother. He never let anyone call him Nicky but her. Not even their parents called him that. It was Nick to everyone else. Or Nicholas from their grandmother when she was exasperated with him, not that that happened often either.

He wasn't correcting her. Hell, he was grinning at her like a moron.

Sarah growled and stood up.

"Reaper?" Kyra asked hesitantly. Sarah looked at her best friend and saw the scandalized expression on her face. She'd heard it too.

"I'm leaving," she said abruptly. Pushing her chair back under the table, Sarah stormed out of the cafeteria, ignoring any and all stares thrown in her direction.

She needed to kick some ass, now, and since beating the bottle-blonde's face in was not an option – too much paperwork and too many complaints from the adults – scumbags in Gotham were her best bet.

Technically she wasn't supposed to go out into Gotham alone, none of them were, and she definitely wasn't allowed to do it without letting anyone know, but that logical part of her brain had been shut off a while ago, lost in Sarah's sense of outrage and betrayal. She knew it was ridiculous, and probably beyond childish, but the bond between she and Nicky meant a hell of a lot to her. The idea that she'd apparently been wrong in thinking it was the same for him too, if he was just allowing anyone to call him Nicky. And Michaela? It was almost enough to make her feel sick.

Reaching the transporter room, she keyed in coordinates for the top of the WE building and vanished without saying a word to anyone. Gotham's cold night air welcomed her, cool on the exposed part of her face. It did nothing to calm her temper. Heading in the direction of Crime Alley, she bared her teeth in a fierce grin when the sound of gunfire reached her ears. One, two, three shots. Possibly a police officer – three shots to the heart to take the target down, or maybe, if she was lucky, some scumbag who thought no one would be around to stop him.

She was lucky.

It was an armed robbery of a liquor store on Seventh, one gunman and one terrified shop owner. The criminal was shoving a canvas bag at him, yelling at him to fill it with the contents of the cash register. Reaper took a few seconds to analyse the situation and come up with a plan, then went into action.

She threw a batarang through one window, which left a deep cut on the back of his hand but didn't, unfortunately, make him drop the gun. It did distract him long enough for Reaper to smash through the opposite window and swing through it. He brought the weapon up again, got off three wild shots, none of which hit her or the shopkeeper. He wasn't given another chance to fire – her foot hit him squarely in the centre of the chest, knocking him off his feet and into a row of refrigerators. He was up a few seconds later, proving himself tougher than most; this time he came at her with a broken bottle, swinging wildly. She ducked the first thrust, shoving his wrist up and causing the glass to fly out of his hand. Tightening her grip, she straightened his arm and slammed her fist into his elbow. Not meant to bend inward, it broke with a resounding crack. He let out a shriek of pain before she introduced his face to the counter. Unconscious, he finally slumped to the floor.

She looked at the clerk. "Are you hurt?"

"N-no. Thank you. I called the police on a silent alarm, but –"

"Their response time is six minutes on average; they won't be here for another three." She bent and handcuffed the would-be robber's hands together, then hog-tied him. "He won't wake up in that time."

"And what about the gun?" He bent to pick it up from behind the counter – Reaper was gone by the time he looked up.

She hadn't gone far, though – only two blocks away, there were the sounds of a scuffle in an alleyway. She arrived via the head of one of them, making him collapse like a concertina. There were three other muggers as well as the unfortunate couple they'd picked to rob. Two of them had knives, one of them a long chain which he threw at Sarah, aiming to wrap it around her neck. She threw up her forearm to block it, which the thug had apparently been expecting – he dragged her forward to where his friend was waiting to stab her. It would have worked, had her dad not designed the suit she wore to give her enhanced strength. Instead of working to his advantage, all she had to do was yank her arm back. When he stumbled forward, falling over, she brought her knee up. His nose broke, and then it was two down, two to go.

They attacked at once, one in front and one behind. She twisted at the last second, letting the one in front of her stab his friend in the shoulder. Behind them both now, she threw him into the other guy, knocking them both to the floor. While he went flying head-first against the brick wall, the one with the shoulder wound still somehow managed to get to his feet again, and get in one more wild stab before she took him down.

Hearing sirens in the distance, she left the highly relieved couple behind and shot into the air to the safety of the nearest rooftop, breathing hard. Rare she actually got that much of a challenge nowadays. Wow, I actually feel dizzy… Really dizzy. Why…? And not only dizzy – she was in pain, too. What in Hera's name?

She put a hand down to her stomach – when she brought her hand up again, the black fingertips of her gloves were wet with blood. "Oh fuck," she whispered. That last stab had obviously hit home.

With that realisation, the dizziness and pain increased tenfold, and blackness started to crowd the edge of her vision. There was a lot of blood too. Way more than was good. Her legs no longer holding her, Sarah collapsed to her knees, fingers fumbling clumsily at her belt. She just about got the distress beacon out, pressing the button at the same time as the world went dark.

Nick whistled cheerfully as he walked down the corridors of the Watchtower. His sparring match with Jonathan had gone pretty well, and his earlier date with Michaela had been awesome. He hadn't known she had such a cute sense of humor.

The voice of Green Arrow – Michael Queen – came over the intercom, interrupting his thoughts. "Prometheus to the Monitor Room immediately. Code Red emergency!"

Nick's eyes widened. Code Red – life threatening. Taking flight, he raced to the elevator. He punched the appropriate button, and he rose quickly to the Monitor Room. He hurried over to the computer. "What is it?" he demanded.

Queen pointed to the communications system. "Message from the Cave."

It was a typed message, brief and to the point.

Reaper injured. Come home. —M

Nick's blood ran cold.

Sarah knew she wasn't dead – because she hurt, mostly in the stomach area. Right. Stabbed. She had a massive headache as well, and she'd probably look like a ghost when she woke up properly. Which I should probably do – Mom and Daddy will be going nuts…

"Oww..." Sarah slowly swam up to consciousness. "Son of a..."

"Sarah?" Bruce was at her side in seconds, penlight ready to check her pupil dilation as soon as she opened her eyes. "Sarah, look at me."

She did, squinting her eyes open, then immediately shutting them when her father turned the tiny flashlight on. "Ow! Daddy!"

"How are you feeling?" he asked, ignoring her protests. "Any pain?"

"Only localised," she said.

"Dizziness?"

"No."

"Nausea?"

"No."

"Headache?"

"Nope." She opened her eyes fully and smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm okay, Daddy."

He nodded finally. "Alright."

She squeezed his hand. "How much blood did I lose?"

"Just under one and a half litres," he told her. "Luckily Terry was on hand to give you a transfusion."

She turned to Terry, who was looking slightly pale himself, and smiled. "Thanks, Terry."

He nodded. "No problem." With a small wince, he drew the needle out of his arm and then swung his legs over the side of the table. "I should head home. It's almost sunrise as it is. If my mom catches me out of bed this late, she'll kill me."

"You should eat something before you go," Diana insisted. "You've just given away two pints of your blood; your sugar levels will be decreased." She opened a drawer in the medical cabinet and pulled out a couple of candy bars. "Eat one now, another when you get home."

Terry took it, inwardly rolling his eyes. Hadn't realised I gained another mom when I took this job. Nevertheless, he did as requested and wolfed the chocolate down in three bites. "Happier?" he asked with a smile.

She nodded. "And thank you again, Terry. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't–"

"But I did, and Sarah's fine," he interrupted gently. "I'll see you tomorrow at nine, just like always. Rest up, Reaper."

She smiled and nodded. "I will. And thanks again, kid."

Terry waved to them all and left the Cave. "Right, let's get this thing out of me," Sarah said cheerfully.

Her father's hand settled on top of hers. "Not yet," he said. "You're still looking pale."

"Daddy, I'm fine. Look at me, sitting up and everything."

"Humour me."

Sarah sighed and finally acquiesced, leaning back on the bed again. "So I take it Terry is O neg?"

"No, actually," her mother said. "He has the same blood type as you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? He's AB negative too? Huh. Of all the gin joints…"

"Transport me to the Batcave. Now," Nick snapped, running over to the transporter. Green Arrow, much to his credit, didn't ask questions, nor did he hesitate.

Within seconds, Nick was faced with the familiar sight of the Batcave. He immediately hurried over to the medical area, set up by Alfred many years ago and carefully maintained by the rest of the family even after the beloved butler had died. He quickly spotted his parents standing over two of the tables. They turned to face him as he approached.

"What happened?" he demanded.

His mother stepped toward him. "She's going to be all right, Nick," she assured him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "She went out patrolling, someone got a lucky shot in and stabbed her in the stomach."

Nick cringed. Stomach wounds, even in the age of modern medicine, were messy things.

"The blade didn't hit anything vital," Diana continued, "but she lost a lot of blood before Terry could get to her. He only just managed to stop the bleeding."

Nick looked past his mother. Sarah lay on one of the tables, pale as death, though awake, with one end of an IV hooked up to her arm. The other end led to an already empty examination table, that had supported Terry at one point, he assumed.

"Terry has the same bloodtype as Sarah," Diana murmured. "Thank Hera."

A/N: Review please!