Despite a few drawbacks this week, here we are. We also have a cast list for the newer heroes that you're meeting that will grow as time goes on. It'll be posted over at the Livejournal, as I can't post it here. ;)
It was a lovely Saturday afternoon for a day out with the girls, and after the news she'd heard earlier in the week, Lois needed it. The situation in Gotham was never far from her mind, or from Clark's. He was gone more after, trying to keep an eye on Bruce, and when he was home his mind was still in Gotham City. But she couldn't dwell on that; there was nothing she could do at the moment, so she had to keep up appearances and live in the moment. Which that afternoon meant going for their regular girls'-night-out.
Lois sometimes marveled at the fact that she'd been able to maintain such long-standing friendships. Lucy was her sister, of course and Lana—well, she couldn't get away from Lana, given the way the family was arranged, even if she wanted to. Cat Grant and Tobie Raines had known her since college, and if they hadn't driven each other away with their competitiveness by now, it wasn't going to happen. And the friendship between a police inspector and a reporter had yielded too many clues to too many cases, so in spite of their occasional arguments about ethics, Maggie Sawyer wasn't going anywhere.
Still, it amazed her sometimes. Lois didn't consider herself good at relationships of any kind; she knew she'd gotten lucky finding Clark. Star-crossed as all hell, with everything they'd been through, but still lucky. Richard was a major stroke of luck, too. There weren't many men in the world who would love a woman enough to propose to her, and then love her still more to let her go. Privately she guessed she'd done something amazing in a previous life or something to have so many people who cared so deeply about her.
But this wasn't the moment for reflecting. "Pull!" Lois called, bringing Maggie's Browning Citori 725 over-and-under shotgun to her shoulder. Luckily for her, it had almost no kick; that right shoulder didn't need any unnecessary stress. Behind her, Maggie pressed the button that launched the clays—two this time. Lois tracked the low target and blasted it out of the sky with the little visceral thrill that skeet-shooting always gave her, then followed up on the high one. She had to hurry to make the double, but managed to break the second clay.
"Nice," Maggie said, and Lois moved to the eighth station for her final two shots of this round. They didn't always get out to the skeet club Maggie belonged to, but when they did, she was one of the better shooters. The rule was that the winner had to buy dinner for everyone, and Lois found herself paying quite often.
Lois missed the low shot at station eight, and swore pungently. Since it was the first one she'd missed, she got to re-shoot it, and blasted the clay target with especial vengeance. Then she handed the gun over to Tobie for her turn and joined the group who'd already shot or were still waiting to go.
Cat, who'd gotten a double this time and was still excited about it, beamed at Lois. "When the zombie apocalypse comes, I'm hiding at your place."
"Nope, I finally kicked the kids out, I'm not letting you move in and eat us out of house and home," Lois retorted. "If the dead start walking the earth, go freeload with Mags and Tobe. They have more guns, anyway."
"Yeah, but you have the penthouse. It'll be a lot easier just barricading the stairwell," Cat replied.
"Someone's been watching too many horror movies," Lucy chuckled.
Cat rolled her eyes. "Blame Richard. He's the one who waxed poetic to Ian about 28 Days Later. In the last two weeks I've seen that, the sequel, Shaun of the Dead, a couple of older films I don't even remember, and now he's recording The Walking Dead. It's gotten so I feel weird if I don't dream about zombies attacking the city."
Lois couldn't help chuckling while Lana apologized. Richard's love of horror films was her favorite target of blame for Kala being Goth, and now it looked like he had something else to answer for.
Finally shrugging, Cat said, "It could be worse. Ian could be stuck on German Expressionist films again. I do love him, but I'm starting to think all film geeks should have a warning label just so we know what we're getting into. I can't rent a movie anymore without thinking about the cinematography and how the director is expressing his particular style."
They all shared a chuckle at that, and then Lana remarked, "Cat, you said you wanted to ask us all something when Lois got done shooting. What was that?"
"Well…." Cat trailed off, looking over at Tobie, who had worked her way through the stations during the conversation. Skeet was a relatively quick sport, especially for experienced shooters. Tobie had just missed a double and cursed in aggravation. "Okay, I don't want Tobe to feel left out, but you guys all have some qualifications that she doesn't. So … do you think I'd be a good mom?"
Lucy, Lois, and Lana all looked at each other for a moment in utter surprise, and even Maggie turned her head from where she was managing the trigger on the traps. That made Tobie look around, too, and she lowered the gun to call, "What? Jeez, woman, don't tell me you're pregnant."
"How did you hear that with a shotgun next to your ear?" Cat complained.
The brunette kept the gun pointed at the ground as she turned around and propped her free hand on her hip. "I didn't need to hear you. I felt a disturbance in the freakin' force. Whatever happened to Cat the wild and free, no commitments, you'll date the guy for years but you won't marry him because it'll ruin the relationship?"
"Ian and I aren't getting married. And I'm not pregnant," Cat retorted, blushing. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. You're just going to be an ass."
"You also suck as a reporter," Lois jeered. Any time was a good time to refresh their rivalry. "If you hadn't been an editor so long, you'd remember Cat did that piece last month on those kids with disabilities that are stuck in foster care. You thinking of adopting, Cat?"
The blonde sighed. "Well, there was this little boy. Adam. He was in the second segment, and he's just the sweetest thing. And I remember some ASL from that one guy I dated who was deaf—you remember, right? So I could talk to Adam some in between takes, and I think we really connected. And…." She shrugged helplessly.
The other five women shared a significant glance. "Go for it," Tobie finally said. By that point no one was especially interested in finishing the round, and no one else was waiting to use the skeet range. "I mean, if you're still thinking about him a month later, it means he's really important to you. Me, I've never really been into the kid thing, but I think you'd be good at it."
Lucy mused, "You do have a way with kids. Lo's twins never went to anybody they didn't know, at first, but the day they got here you were carrying Jason around like his long-lost aunt."
"You should do it," Lois affirmed. The idea of freewheeling Cat with a child was kind of mind-bending, but not in a bad way. She'd done a lot of growing up in the last ten years or so: getting sober, advancing her career, actually staying in a relationship for more than a few months.
Cat was still fretting though. "I don't know. I mean, I don't know the first thing about raising a child. Looking after you guys' kids for a few minutes or a few hours is nothing, I'm pretty sure I won't break them and I can always send them back to you, but adopting a child is a huge, huge commitment. I'm not thirty anymore, either. And I don't have any way of knowing if I'll be any good at it! I just … I don't know how to be a mom. "
Lana put an arm around her shoulders, leaned in close, and stage-whispered in conspiratorial tones, "Neither did we, but our kids survived."
That got them all laughing. Finally Lois said, "Motherhood is the one test where you're encouraged to crib off everyone else's answers, Cat. And you've got all of us to ask for advice."
"Including how not to panic when your kid comes home from college and casually announces she's moving in with her boyfriend next semester," Maggie said, arching an eyebrow. Jamie Sawyer's romance with Lee Escobar, an engineering major she'd met on campus, had been the topic of the day at their last meeting.
"Yeah, Adam's nine. Girls still have cooties. I think I've got a ways to go before worrying about him moving in with anyone else," Cat joked.
"Oh, I miss the cooties stage," Lucy sighed. "Michelle's just now discovering that boys are the same species. Nora's getting married this year, and Sam's talking about having a baby. I don't think Sarah's quite ready yet, but he is. And then every time Joanna calls she's talking about someone new."
"Well, she is traveling a lot," Lana said.
Lucy sighed. "Yeah, when your ambition is to paint every inspiring coastline from Maine to the Florida Keys, I guess romance takes second best. Oh, speaking of the artist lives-like-a-gypsy gene, hey Lois, what's new with Kala?"
Lois groaned. "So I hear the new one's named Alan, and his idea of date-night conversation is telling my daughter all about his sword collection…."
…
There's nothing like an audience yelling your name, Kala thought. She felt super-charged, like she'd been sunbathing for hours, rolling on the adrenaline rush. Sebast and the boys were scattering to their various vices, and Kala smiled wickedly as she took off her own makeup and changed into plainclothes. After being in a corset for the last five hours, that meant jeans and an off-the-shoulder blouse, clothes she could breathe in. The she headed backstage to find Alan.
He'd finished his set earlier; her group was gaining popularity, so they sang later in the night. By the time Kala got to him, Alan had ditched the stage makeup and was halfway through a bottle of his favorite beer. "Well, hello beautiful," he said at the sight of her, a broad smile curving his mouth.
"Hello yourself," Kala laughed, and kissed him. She was still wearing boots, so she didn't have to stand on tiptoe to do it. Alan frowned slightly; Kala knew he was touchy about his height. He'd once proclaimed that he would never, ever date a girl taller than himself. She thought five feet ten was perfectly respectable for a guy, even if it was only a little more than her own height.
Kala let her knees go a little slack and her shoulders fall rounded, just enough so Alan wouldn't notice she was easily looking him in the eye. She'd learned that trick from her father. To further distract her boyfriend, she said, "Well, we're free for two days. Wanna go out tonight?"
"Sure. I hear there's a pretty good club in town, too." Alan slung an arm around her waist, waved to his band, and they headed out.
Predictably, his hand dropped to the curve of her hip when they reached the door, and Kala caught it there to forestall his typical ass-grab. He only pulled that nonsense in front of his band; once she got him alone he'd be a gentleman, but around the boys he acted like he had something to prove. Laughing, she leaned into him.
The pretty good club turned out to be more like mediocre, full of angry Goths who just wanted to unleash their frustrations in the mosh pit. Kala decided not to dance based on that. She could kick higher than their heads, but with her luck one of the would be the mayor's maladjusted kid or something and she'd wind up in jail. So she settled for nabbing a booth as soon as one opened, snuggling with Alan in the corner.
Luckily the music wasn't so loud as to make conversation impossible. Alan rambled about his band and how well they were doing … and the fact that they'd auditioned a second bassist. "Hey, Alan, you know I need one of those too," Kala interjected.
Alan paused, disconcerted. "Oh, yeah, right. Well, I don't think you'd like this guy. He's kind of a rough-cut person, you know? Very … unpolished."
"Believe it or not, neither I nor my self-image are made of glass," Kala said, irritated. Just two days ago she'd had a long conversation with Alan, and he'd promised to send any talented bassists he met her way. Bass wasn't Morgan's strength, he preferred guitar, and besides he really didn't want to be living in cheap motel rooms playing third-rate tours like this. He'd rather stick to garage bands and teaching, or make the leap to actually getting signed, but this kind of grunt work wasn't for him. Morgan was only sticking around as a favor, and Kala hated to drag him into this.
Alan knew all that, he'd promised her, and then he hadn't even told her until his band was auditioning someone for a second bass. Sighing, Alan took her hands and looked down, then forced himself to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, babe. It was thoughtless of me not to at least send him over to you first. It's just … I don't think he has the right energy for your band, anyway. You need someone with balance and talent and tact."
More than halfway mollified—he had incredible eyes, lashes thick and dark as a girl's, and Kala melted every time she looked into them—she still said archly, "Are you saying I'm a diva? I need special handling?"
"No, Kala, you're not a diva. But Sebast is."
That got them both laughing, which got them past the awkward moment, and then Kala reported on her drummer. Ned was settling in nicely, though he hadn't quite become a friend yet. He would, eventually. Caravanning and sharing motels and eating breakfast at Huddle House at 3 AM so they could hit the road before sunrise didn't leave room for ambivalence. In those circumstances, people either became friends as close as family, or bitter enemies.
As the hour grew later, the music in the club became slower and more melodic, and Kala leaned her head against Alan's shoulder. He'd been in the midst of telling her about a sword he wanted to buy on eBay, but someone had kept outbidding him, so he used some software workaround to get in a bid at the very last second, winning the sword by three cents or some such ridiculous margin. Kala's conscience prickled at that, but she kept quiet. It was Alan's life, after all, and he'd never had ethics lessons from Jor-El. Still, she figured it was his mom's money he was spending, he could afford to raise the bid more than an insulting amount.
"Hey," Alan said, tilting her head back with two fingers under her chin. "You're real quiet tonight. Something wrong?"
"Nah," Kala demurred. "Just tired." Strange how she'd been so energized earlier, and now she wanted to curl up in bed.
"Wanna head back? I could tuck you in," Alan offered, with that little grin she loved so much. Every time Kala saw it she wanted to kiss him. And he was a very, very good kisser.
"Mm, why do I think you have in mind a lot more than just tucking me in?" she teased, eyes sparkling.
"Can't blame me for trying." Alan shrugged. He never got embarrassed; she liked that too, that he was secure in himself.
That was how they ended up going back to the motel, Kala with a nice little buzz—but not much more, even after a couple of hard ciders. Alan didn't need to know how well her body processed alcohol, though, so she made herself a little unsteady on her feet. The rosy flush in her cheeks and the way that everything seemed funny, that she didn't have to fake.
They were both staying in a Hampton, much better than the no-name fleapit across the road that the tour had booked, and Alan walked her to her room, his hand at the small of her back to steady her. Kala leaned against him more than was necessary. He wasn't a big, husky guy like Jason; leaning against her brother was like leaning against a warm and forgiving brick wall. But Alan was strong in a streamlined, supple way, the build of a martial artist rather than a prizefighter.
At her door, Alan turned her around and cupped her face between his hands. "Kala," he said quietly.
"Yeah?" she said, lifting an eyebrow and leaning back against the door.
"What is it with you, hmm? You have some kind of … special powers or something?"
That turned her spine to ice, instantly sobering her. Oh, shit. How the hell did he figure out…?
In the next second, though, he smiled and continued, "Every time I see you, it makes my day better. I can be exhausted, pissed off, whatever—seeing you makes everything right again. How do you do that?"
Oh, jeez, I'm such a paranoid dimwit, she laughed at herself. He had no clue he was dating a girl who could light cigarettes with her eyes and win races with sports cars and fly. "Alan, honey, if I told you…" She leaned in close, practically nose to nose, and lowered her voice. "…I'd have to kill you."
Alan laughed, and kissed her.
Five minutes later he was still kissing her, his hands ceaselessly framing her body from shoulders to hips. Kala had her hands under his shirt, and he had the great six-pack abs she expected. She could've gone on kissing him for the next hour or so, easily.
Except, her phone chirped. That got her attention, and she pulled away from Alan reluctantly to see who was texting her.
The message on her phone's screen was 'Hot or not?' and it was accompanied by a photo attachment of a grinning blond boy in a dark club. 'Hot enough,' Kala replied quickly, and dropped the phone back in her pocket.
Alan was less than thrilled at the interruption. "Let me guess. Sebast."
"Hey, it could've been important," Kala said defensively.
He just sighed. "You two are way too joined at the hip."
"Alan, he's my best friend," Kala explained, for what felt like the fiftieth time. Every single boyfriend she ever had ended up jealous of Sebast, even the ones he hit on.
"I know. I just don't like anyone coming between us." He sounded resigned.
"No, you don't like being interrupted while making out with an extremely hot chick," Kala pointed out mischievously.
"That, too," he admitted.
For a moment, just a moment, she thought about inviting him in. They hadn't slept together yet, and she didn't want the night to end quite so soon. But practicality reasserted itself; there were more important considerations than getting her groove on. It was all fine and dandy for the boys to stay out all hours of the night drinking; they'd be hung over and miserable tomorrow, and Kala wanted no part of that. "I hate to say this, but we should both be getting some sleep. On the road again tomorrow morning. At oh-dark-thirty, too."
"Yeah, we should," Alan sighed, clearly let down but seeing the sense in it. He caught her face again, and kissed her, this time sweet and simple. "Good night, Kala."
"Good night," she purred back, with a little lift of her eyebrows and an extra sway in her hips when she turned to open the door.
Alan's appreciate chuckle followed her to bed.
…
Jason got a very different text the same night. Tim's hurt bad. Meet me at GGH. That was from Cassie, coming in on an ordinary Tuesday evening, and making it anything but ordinary.
By the time Jason got the news, Tim was already out of surgery and recovering in a private room in Gotham General Hospital. According to the second message he'd received, Tim was in stable condition and would probably go home after a night of observation. Alfred and Dr. Thompkins plus the Bat-Cave's resources were more than enough to ensure his complete recovery.
Jason dropped in anyway, wanting to see for himself. He found the window ledge outside Tim's room rather crowded. Steph was there, of course, worrying her lower lip and staring inward. Dick was perched on the other end of the sill, also looking in. Cassie had settled for hovering, which Jason couldn't do, so he managed to balance on the narrow upper ledge.
Cassie was the one who looked up at his arrival. "He'll be okay," she said. "He woke up, and he's talking to Bruce now."
Of course Bruce would be inside with his youngest. "What happened?"
Dick shifted uncomfortably, but Steph was the one who answered. "That sonofabitch Red Hood got hold of him. Vandalized the Cave, then hunted Tim down while wearing a version of his old Robin uniform, and tried to kill him."
"Wait, what?" Jason yelped. "Did you say…?"
"Yeah," Dick said, his voice freighted with grief. "Red Hood is Robin Number Two. And as soon as he knew Bruce knew, he decided to go after his successor."
"He's not right in the head," Cassie explained.
"Yeah, and after he went ten rounds with Tim, he's probably not right in the body either," Steph growled.
Jason had to concentrate on hanging on to his perch. The other Jason, Bruce's second son, the second Robin, the one who'd died. The one whose uniform had sent chills down Jason's spine when he saw it hanging ghostlike in the memorial case. He was the new crook in town, this Red Hood who killed wantonly and defied the Bats' attempts to catch him.
That was when Batman stepped out onto the ledge. He looked at the assembled Titans, and said only, "He will recover. And this will not happen again."
"Damn right it won't," Steph snapped.
The cowl turned to her, but the words were for all of them. "Do not go after Red Hood. Leave him to me." With that he stepped off the ledge, spread his cloak, and soared off into the night.
Steph stepped into the room, going to the bedside, and the rest followed her. By now the staff of Gotham General had certain standard procedures whenever one of the caped crowd came in. Masks stayed on, identities were preserved, and visitors who didn't check in downstairs were expected. So the nurse who walked in to check Tim's vitals didn't even bat an eyelash at four costumed heroes in the room. She only said with a hint of scolding in her voice, "He needs his rest."
"Don't worry. We won't bother him. It's just … we had to see for ourselves," Steph told her, taking Tim's hand. The nurse checked his chart and left. Only then did Tim's eyes open, and Steph whispered softly, "You look like shit, Robin.
Tim smiled gamely at her. "Should see the other guy," he managed to mumble.
Dick took his other hand. "You've got to get better, little brother. You lost the last card game, and you've got to wash my car this weekend."
That got a weak laugh, and Jason eased up alongside Steph. "I see. You set this up just so you wouldn't have to do any more paperwork, huh?"
"Busted," Tim managed to say. He was half falling asleep again in front of them, and Cassie had just enough time to say they'd keep watch over him before his eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out.
"What's he even doing in Gotham General?" Cassie asked quietly.
"Civilian found him," Dick said. "I was en route; Oracle caught part of the fight and sent me to assist, but it was over by the time I got there. No trace of Hood, either, so I came here."
They talked about treatment and recovery time and who would take over which duties while Jason listened with half an ear and nodded at the right times. He was watching Tim carefully, listening to his heartbeat and breathing, as if by doing so he could somehow help him heal. Once again he was struck by the fact that all of his powers were utterly useless here. He could deflect bullets, outrun a cheetah, jump a sixty-story building, and pick up a freaking train, but none of it could help Tim.
The two had met when Jason went to Gotham when he was sixteen, and after a false start caused by Jason's factual assertion that he couldn't be hurt—and Tim taking it as a challenge to his martial arts prowess—they'd become fast friends. These days Jason considered Tim his best friend. One of two best friends, actually, because he still kept in touch with Dustin Carmichael in Smallville. It was sort of like having a best friend for each half of who he was. Although Tim knew him as more than Superboy, they didn't get to hang out in plainclothes all that often. And Dustin didn't know his best pal was half-alien.
Tim was—well, he was a lot of things. A hell of a lot better trained than Jason himself, but then, he had to be. Gotham chewed up capes and spit them out in pieces, so if you couldn't bounce bullets off your chest, you had to get really good at dodging them. Like Jason, Tim could be very serious and dedicated, but he took it a step further and Jason saw it as his duty to lighten him up occasionally. Another thing they had in common was geekitude. While Tim didn't share his taste in monster movies, they did like most of the same sci-fi books and films.
Sometimes Jason forgot that things like this could happen to people he knew and cared about. He should've known better; his own mother had never quite regained all the strength in her right arm. But it was very human to forgot, to pretend that bad things never happened to good people, to think his love could shield his friends from the cold truths of the world. Perhaps that was how the mind protected itself. If he had to remember every day that someone could shoot Tim, or Kala, or Mom, he'd go crazy.
"Hello, Earth to Superboy? Come in, Krypto-Clone?" Jason startled when Cassie waved her hand in front of his face. He'd been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't followed the conversation at all. "Come on, we've got to go. Robin will be safe here tonight."
"You're sure?" he couldn't help asking.
Dick smiled. "Oracle and I will be keeping a very close eye on him."
"And besides, Batman didn't actually give us permission to be here," Cassie added, glancing toward Dick.
He shrugged. "You're welcome in Blüdhaven, but in Gotham, it's Batman's rules. So let's go ahead and … where's Spoiler?"
Jason and Cassie both turned around to where they thought Steph was standing, but she was gone. Realization struck them all at the same time: she'd gone after Tim's attacker. "Oh, shit," Jason whispered.
Cassie turned and grabbed Dick's arm, leaning in close. "Quick, 'Wing. Where would she look for Hood?"
"Probably somewhere in the Bowery, that's his turf, but…. Oh, hell. You two go get her, I'll distract the Bat."
A moment later there were only shadows in the room, and Tim slept, not knowing that his girlfriend was out there spoiling for a fight with the same guy who'd put him in the hospital.
…
That night wasn't a good one for Gotham's criminals. With two hurried, harried super-powered teens rifling through the worst side of town, they seemed to find new crooks and creeps around every corner. When Jason saw a guy raising a metal pipe over someone on the ground, he reacted without even seeing if it was Steph, snatching the pipe and throwing the man across the alley.
"Run," Cassie said to the confused man on the ground, who was grabbing for a set of brass knuckles. Only then did Jason realize he'd broken up a fight, not saved a friend. Watching them both scatter, Cassie shook her head. "This isn't subtle, Superboy. We've got to be more careful or the Bat's gonna come down on us."
"We've got to find Spoiler. Doesn't Oracle have a lead on her?"
They leaped to a rooftop before Cassie replied, "Spoiler was trained by Oracle, too. She knows where most of the cameras are."
Jason's heart was racing—worry that Bruce would put an abrupt stop to their rescue mission, fear for Steph, anger at this asshole who'd shot Tim. In light of that, what happened next shouldn't have been a surprise.
"What's got you so worked up, Superboy?" The velvety voice out of the darkness startled Cassie, but not Jason.
One of these days he was going to have to get better at regulating his reactions. Oh, yeah, it's so much fun being a super. My twin can hear my heart wherever she is. I should have expected her to turn up in a situation like this. Unable to resist a sheepish grin despite the severity of the situation at hand, Jason quickly updated her. "Blur. Robin's been hurt. Spoiler went after his attacker. We need to find her and stop her. Batman thinks this one is a threat to any of us."
"Especially when she's too angry for caution," Cassie interjected.
"Shit! Why doesn't anyone pick up a phone and call me? Is T—Robin gonna be okay?" The lapse was tiny, but Jason turned sharp eyes on Kala anyway. They shared irritated frowns then. No real names in the field, that was a cardinal rule, and she knew it. But he supposed he could let it slide, considering the circumstances. And, bad situation or not, he hadn't seen his twin sister in weeks. A tiny slip amongst friends could be forgivable tonight. Freaked as he was trying not to be, having Kala where he could see her gave him a little more focus.
It was weird to see her out here in plainclothes, a black top and jeans under a long black coat that fluttered in the breeze, but at least she had a mask on. Kala kept one handy for emergencies, even though she didn't have an official uniform—or membership on the team, for that matter. Then again, the Blur was just the nickname the press had given her. They knew something faster than any camera's shutter speed sometimes turned up when Superboy and his friends were in danger, but no one knew anything about her. Even the caped crowd was mostly in the dark.
Cassie knew who she was, but the two girls didn't really know each other. Kala only knew Tim because he was Jason's friend. She didn't know Steph, either, but she was game to try, and that was a good thing. Anything that got them out of Gotham without a Bat-lecture was a good thing.
"All right, do you have any kind of lead on her?" Kala asked.
"She's probably somewhere in the Bowery," was all Jason could give her.
Kala scowled. "Okay, fine. I'll go high and see if I can eagle-eye her somewhere. There shouldn't be much else out tonight that's that particular shade of aubergine." Without waiting for confirmation, she was off.
Cassie looked at Jason with a raised eyebrow, and he shrugged. Kala should've waited for confirmation, but she wasn't used to working in a team. He and Cassie kept up their sweep, Jason listening for his sister's pulse. His hearing wasn't quite as good as hers yet, he didn't hear her unless he thought about it, but he could always find her. And right now she was quartering above the city.
Just as he and Cassie crossed another street, he heard Kala change direction, heading back toward them. He put on a burst of speed, racing to meet her, and bounded from one roof to the other.
Kala swept down to them, saying, "Five blocks north and two west, she just went into some kind of abandoned factory." Having conveyed the message, she was off again, heading back to Steph.
"Does she even know Batman has the city on lockdown?" Cassie asked, flying slowly enough that Jason could keep pace.
"Probably not," Jason admitted, and then they were there.
A moment too late, it seemed, as a batarang came winging out of the darkness to slam into a support column. "Hey, watch it! I'm on your side!" Kala called, and Jason groaned.
"It's us, Spoiler," Cassie called.
Steph turned to face them all, her blue eyes ablaze with fury. "If you're here to drag me home and put me to bed like a good kid, you've got another think comin'," she spat. "I'm not gonna sit on my thumbs while Robin's in the hospital and Batman's off brooding somewhere!"
"No one said you should," Kala cut in, before Jason or Cassie could speak.
Glaring at Kala, Cassie stepped up. "Listen, Spoiler, this isn't the time. This guy is on full alert right now. He has to know we're after him. So going up against him right now, when we're all pissed off and he's as ready as he'll ever be, that's not the best choice. We need to give him time to get secure again, and then we can hit him like a ton of bricks. Okay?"
"I hate to say it, but Batman knows him better than any of us. We should at least wait and see what he's doing before we plan our own strategy," Jason offered. Later on they could talk Steph down from her one-woman crusade. Right now they just had to get her to defer it long enough for rage to settle down and let her thought processes—the ones unrelated to relentlessly kicking Red Hood's ass, anyway—come back online.
She wavered, just for a second, and then her voice was much softer when she asked, "What if we don't have time? What then?"
Cassie took Steph's armored shoulders and held her still, looking past the cowl into pain-filled eyes. "Honey, it's Robin. He'll be fine. He didn't even get shot anywhere vital. He just lost some blood, took some bruises, and got a concussion. Except for the blood, he's done worse training."
Kala looked at Jason as if she was about to say something, and then her expression changed, her eyes going unfocused. "Shit! S—my BFF just got back to the hotel. I gotta fly or he'll wonder where I am."
The twins exchanged a look and Jason nodded. It was a lot more dangerous for Kala to be caught out than usual, her life so bound up in the civilian world than his own. Those closest to Kala still hadn't the slightest idea where she occasionally ran off to; not even Sebast was aware of just how out-of-this-world his best girl really was. And remembering that made Jason all the more grateful for her intervention tonight. And it was obvious that she knew, Kala giving him a tiny grin and nodding. She knows. She always knows. "I'll update you later, Blur," Jason said as she rose into the air again, and then turned all his attention to Steph, where it belonged.
None of them knew the chase and confrontation had been captured by several of Oracle's cameras. In the circumstances, though, she decided not to share that video with Bruce.