Flashback Chapter 15 Learn As You Go

Babs came out of the gym, eager to get home and keep working on her Italian (the remnants of the Roman Empire were still around after all) with the massive help of her eidetic memory. Busy, busy, busy.

"Hey, Babs!" a voice called, and she turned to see Dick Grayson waiting for her. "Sorry about tracking you down like this, but…do you have a partner for the English presentation yet?"

"No, Annie and Katie both want to partner up with me, so I told them to sort it out between themselves," she shrugged. "It's a little irritating. Why; are you offering?"

"I know I'm not top of the class like you, but Wayne Manor's got a nice library, if you want access," Dick said. "I'd normally pair with Martin, but he never takes it seriously."

"So you figured you'd join up with the girl voted 'most likely to be valedictorian'?"

"I just thought you'd get more out of our library," he shrugged, then paused. "And I think Bruce is worried that I'm a Sophomore and have yet to have a good female friend, because he said I can invite you over anytime at all," he finished in a rush.

Babs blinked, and snickered. "Fair enough," she replied. "I can call my dad if you want to get started."

"That would be delightful," Dick replied. "Alfred's waiting to pick me up, so…?"

Babs quickly called her dad, and got permission as long as she was home by seven. As the two teens waited for their ride, Dick spoke up again. "You know Dance is on Tuesday, not Wednesday?"

"No it isn't," Babs retorted quickly. "That's Modern Dance, not mixed-style."

"It's Ju-jitsu today. Says so on the website."

"Are you stalking me?"

"Just wanted to know when you were finished. I'm quite fond of martial arts, so if you fancy a spar…"

"You have a gym too?"

"It's a big manor. C'mon, it'll be fun. And I bet we can teach each other a few tricks."

"If we have time. Presentation, remember?"

Babs roared along on a motorbike, Black Canary on the back. Killer Moth and his new partner, Firefly, had kidnapped her father, which had sent up a flag with the Justice League. Batman and Robin weren't responding (Robin had said they had business elsewhere when he gave her the bike earlier that evening) and, it seemed, Canary was one of the few people the Bat could tolerate in his city.

Killer Moth, aka Drury Walker, alias Cameron van Cleer, had a false identity as a millionaire, who was known to move in similar circles as Bruce Wayne, but a quick hack found serious financial troubles. The gossip from the underworld grapevine, obtained using eavesdropping and bugs, spread rumours that Killer Moth had approached mob boss Tony Bressi about a week ago, proposing a scheme that would make him a sort of anti-Batman, except he'd been turned down due to his defeat at her hands.

Firefly, however, was a complete unknown. All that could be deduced was that he was a pyromaniac.

"Watch your turns," Canary scolded Babs. The younger girl gritted her teeth to prevent a sharp retort. After all, she was the one who'd got the kidnappers' destination from Officer Bard at the scene, and she was the one who still had a bike after Firefly torched Canary's when they cornered the pair at Bressi's greenhouse.

Unfortunately, Moth and Firefly escaped, with her father.

So now they were chasing a pickup truck that kept spitting bullets at them. Hmm, that mean Firefly was driving?

'No, just waiting until we got closer,' she thought grimly, a sheet of flame erupting and making her swerve. Canary growled again, but Babs found herself a little more concerned with avoiding a roasting than a little road rash. She swerved again, and just had time to hear Canary cry out before something rammed her off the road and into a tree. Stars filled her eyes.

"Psst, Batgirl!" a young male voice hissed at her. Babs looked around spying Robin perched atop a billboard on the adjacent roof. He beckoned, then sprung down and shot off. Grumbling to herself, Babs followed, dropping into a dark alley (it was night; this was Gotham; all alleys were dark). Robin was standing next to an impressive charcoal-grey motorbike.

"Here. It's yours," the Boy Wonder said, patting the bike. "Drives like a normal one, but with a few other functions you'll need to get the hang of, and here, in the handle bar. Self-destruct. Flip the switch, count to twenty, and it all becomes a nice pile of incriminating evidence free ash."

Babs settled on the seat. "Nice," she murmured. "He won't mind?"

"We've got business elsewhere," Robin shrugged. "I could tell you stories about Tibetan assassin cults and deadman spirits yearning for vengeance, but…"

"Tibetan assassins, huh?" Babs smirked.

"They're based in the Middle East, but have training camps in the Himalayas," Robin explained. "Learn Arabic; be dead useful if you cross paths with them. And if you do, run and find B. That's what I'm meant to do."

"I'll remember that," Babs murmured.

Robin nodded, and passed her a black helmet with some little tiny pointy ears in the moulding. "Safety first, and here's some more smoke pellets." He handed her a wallet of gear. "Also, brand new rebreather, never used before guaranteed; and some nifty new batarangs with cords attached to carbines. You can just clip that to the outside of your belt and sort it out later if you want to get going. Have fun." And so, he left.

Babs hadn't quite been knocked out, but had certainly been disorientated long enough for the real Killer Mot and Firefly to tie her up. Pity Canary's cry had been exhausted earlier.

Bressi's mansion was quite something, big, plush, luxurious. And apparently the reserve bolthole for the fake evil bug twins it turned out they'd been following all along. As the genuine articles were following with their new captives, at least Babs was still on her dad's trail. So, halfway there…

From the sound of shouting inside, the fake bugs weren't meant to come to Bressi. Of course, that was a moot point as soon as Killer Moth kicked down the door and Firefly set Fake Moth alight. In the distraction, Babs twisted her arms, reached into the wallet still clipped to her belt, and pulled out one of the corded batarangs (the only ones she could reach).She sliced through the ropes on her wrists, and the ones on her ankles, before turning to Canary. Leaving the more experienced hero to deal with the evil bugs (the real Firefly determined to torch everything, mostly the fake Firefly; the fake Moth was beyond saving; and the real Moth was puking his guts out), Babs located her father and pulled him up. She staggered out, Bressi and his floozy following.

"Fire and police on their way," Canary announced a moment later. "Moth and 'fly took off, and you might want to, too." She discarded her smouldering leather jacket and stalked towards Bressi, countenance most upset.

"I'll sue you for this, you bitch!" Bressi screamed. Babs scarpered, half listening to the argument and looking back only to see Canary kick him in the face. Smirking, the teenager hared down the road, soon finding her smashed up bike. Locating the self-destruct, she burned the remains, sighing at the thought of the long walk home.

Making it back to Gotham, Babs took to the rooftops, keeping an eye out for crime. She sat down, pulled out the wallet of extra supplies and sorting the pieces into different compartments of her belt. A scream pierced the air.

A moment later, Babs leant on a windowsill, smiling slightly. It had just been a late night horror movie. For once, all was well.

AN: People keeping track may wish to be aware that the opening scene is all mine. Not from Batgirl: Year One. Or anything else that I'm aware of.

I reckon there's two more chapters here before going back to Family Ties. Could be wrong, but I think I'm getting better at judging it.

So, also this week, we have more LBV, and next week we're still here, and over to Black and Red as well. Lot of Babs at the moment, hmm.

And...we do have a new record for most reviews for a single chapter. It's now at six. Thanks, guys. Anyone feel like trying to maintain that high standard? And, as per usual, if I've confused you, you reckon I've got something messed up, whatever, let me; ask a question, I'll find a way to answer you.

So, see you next week.

Katara