WOW. Pardon me for the long break in writing- I had a baby :) and was a bit busy. Expect updates to take a little bit longer, but I'm trying to make time for at least an hour of writing a week.

Thanks Silentknight91 for your review! I totally agree that the games are so focused on the action that we miss a lot of great character work- which is what drives me back to the page chapter after chapter. I'm so glad you and all my new followers are enjoying the story! Thank you for sharing your joy with me, it really inspires me to keep writing!

"Zoe Lawton," I read from the monitors. "Reported missing the morning of August 11th by her foster family. Hasn't returned to school or her foster home since."

"You know what they say: when a kid goes missing, nine out of ten times it's a parent or relative that took them," Jason said nonchalantly as he raised his Gatorade bottle for a drink.

"It's actually more like 77% of the time," I casually corrected Jason. "In a city like Gotham, the percentage is even smaller. But in this particular case…"

"Deadshot," Bruce growled.

"Floyd Lawton has been missing since you spotted him that morning trying to take a shot at Amanda Wahler," I reminded Bruce.

"Wait, what happened?" Jason asked, intrigued and mildly confused.

"The morning of August 11th, immediately after the events at Arkham Asylum, I confronted Amanda Wahler at her base of operations. Told her to shut down her Suicide Squad before she killed more innocents or released more criminals," Bruce answered, his arms crossed sternly over his chest as he surveyed the image of Lawton's mugshot.

"Rrrright, but that doesn't explain…" Jason impatiently started, but Bruce interrupted him to continue.

"As I was leaving, I saw Deadshot on an adjacent rooftop: sniper aimed, finger on the trigger. His daughter was there with him: bag packed, headphones on, playing with a toy as her father… worked," Bruce said, reaching over my shoulder and clicking a button to bring up Zoe's small profile again. The small girl had short brown hair and wide eyes. She somehow managed to smile even in her picture for the foster system.

"So, she's fully aware of the scuzzball her dad is, right?" Jason said after gulping down his drink.

"Perhaps," Bruce speculated, "but if she does, she doesn't seem to care. She seemed content to let her dad do his job as she waited for him."

"So how'd you stop him? From killing Wahler, I mean," Jason asked.

"I approached to intervene, but at that point it was morning. Deadshot must have waited intentionally for first light so he could see me coming. He ditched the gun, grabbed Zoe, and bolted. In his rush, he had to leave behind one of their suitcases: hers. I noticed a distinct lack of winter clothes inside. Since Lawton himself was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, I have a feeling he had no intention of staying in Gotham for long," Bruce said.

"But something must have changed his plans," I said, maximizing the window I had dragged aside for the briefing. It was security footage from a bodega on Miagani Island. "At 5:33 pm today, my facial ID software picked up the trail of Zoe Lawton, who stopped in a minimart for a cart full of necessities. She paid in cash, and security footage outside of the minimart loses track of her when she pushes the cart into an alley and doesn't come out the other end."

"What sorts of things did she buy?" Jason asked, squinting up at the security feed.

"Water bottles, granola bars, gas cards, a disposable cell phone, batteries," I explained, rattling off the list of what I'd been able to identify in the cart from the footage alone.

"He's making his move tonight," Bruce said. "If they haven't left town already."

"You didn't see her get in a car or anything?" Jason asked me.

"She goes in the alley, nothing comes out. Of either end. There is a fire escape in that alley. I'm guessing Deadshot waited for her there, they scaled the fire escape to the roof, and got away by hopping rooftops for a few blocks. I've been scouring footage for the last hour trying to find where they returned to ground level," I explained.

"Maybe they didn't need to," Bruce said, leaning over me again. "If they could hop rooftops until they reached their destination. Search for buildings within a two-block radius that they could be staying in."

"Staying in? That could be, like, any building," Jason shrugged incredulously. "It could a rooftop. If he's trying to evade your attention, they could be sleeping in an abandoned building or in a stairwell."

"Lawton may be a criminal, but he cares about his daughter," Bruce knowingly told Jason, not bothering to look his way. "He wouldn't make her stay anywhere that didn't have a bed and blankets. Probably somewhere halfway decent."

Jason quieted at that. Almost resentfully.

"That's still a lot of options, Bruce," I reminded him. "Not only are we talking about potential safehouses, but hotels, airbnbs, apartments that are empty while their owners wrap up their summer vacations…"

"Find what you can," Bruce softly demanded, then finally turned to Robin. "We'll canvas on foot, see if we can uncover anything."

Jason chirped up a bit at this and put his empty Gatorade bottle down so quickly, the empty plastic toppled over onto the ground. He picked it up again in a scurry to place it down more carefully before rushing off to get suited up.

"You sure you don't want me to join?" I asked Bruce after Jason had left. "I can program the search and help you hunt them down."

"While you're at it, make sure your facial ID software is searching for his image on all the bridges out of town," he directed me, and I set about following the order. "Once that's all set up, join us on patrol around the city. Deadshot might be trying to misdirect us by popping up on our radar on Miagani. I want you to take Bleake and Founders to watch for him."

I nodded, feeling a little better that I wasn't being totally benched while Jason trained. But I still wished I could be there to help with Jason, help train him. As if sensing my thoughts, Bruce said in a low voice, "he's still got a lot to learn. About following direction. Knowing when to take initiative and when to wait."

"Maybe it would help, to have one other person reinforcing what you're saying?" I suggested as a way of offering my services. After all, in my time training Jason he had come a long way in taking direction, even if he only followed orders with a begrudging silence. Not that Bruce knew that, of course.

"Soon," was Bruce's only reply as he leaned away, then turned to dress. I nodded to myself, knowing that was the best possible answer I could hope for, and returned to programming my software to search for traces of Deadshot.

Batman and Robin left in the Batmobile, Jason excitedly chattering away to Bruce about how they'd start and did he want them to split up and Jason could take the apartments if Bruce took the hotels, and so on. It was hard not to smile at his eagerness. I thought back to the stories that Bruce had told me about Jason before he'd come to live with Bruce, how he was a petty thief who survived on the skin of his teeth and whatever he could grab and run with. Now, that same boy was stopping criminals who had made life hard for kids like him. You had to admire his journey, if nothing else.

As soon as I finished programming the searches and sending my small number of leads to Batman and Jason, I suited up and left Alfred at the computer. I took off towards Bleake Island, calling Dick along the way to see if he had seen anything suspicious.

"It's possible Deadshot will go through Bludhaven as he gets out of the area," I suggested.

"Sure. But he could also go North through New York or around through Metropolis. You're not calling up Green Lantern or Superman too, are you?" Dick asked, half facetiously.

"Ha, ha," I haughtily mocked him. "I just wanted to keep you in the loop, you big blue butthead."

"Well look at you, with the quick comebacks," he laughed at me over my comm.

"I gave you the warning, do what you want with it," I said, ready to sign off as I pulled on to Bleake Island.

"How's our boy doin'?" he asked before I could hang up.

"Not quite as good a listener with Batman, but I think he's getting there," I answered. "Eager to perform, that's for sure."

"That's always been true," Nightwing answered as he let out a weary exhale.

"He's noticed you've been keeping your distance," I said. Nightwing took a moment before he responded.

"These are important days for him," he said after a long pause. "I don't want to impose any kind of shadow over him. It's his time to shine."

"You think he can't do that, even if you stick around? Show him your support?" I asked, feeling a bit protective.

"Look, it's different. There was no Batgirl before you, you got the job made for you. He's gotta reinvent Robin for himself, without my influence. So does Batman," Dick explained, shirking the Nightwing voice for a moment and speaking as himself. I let out a resigned huff of breath.

"He's gonna do great," I reassured Dick. "Maybe send him a text now and then."

"Can do," Dick said, just barely setting aside his temptation to make a snappy comeback. A pinging through my communicator told me Batman was trying to open a line to me.

"Gotta run. Stay safe," I told Dick.

"Only if you do," he answered as I hung up and clicked into the other line.

"Anything?" I asked.

"We might've picked up his trail," Batman confirmed. "We've found an apartment within a short radius of the alley you tracked Lawton to that looks to have hosted some squatters."

"He's got good taste," Robin added through the communicator. "It's not exactly a cheap place."

"He looks to have been hiding out here for quite a while; possibly since our encounter on the morning of August 11th," Batman said.

"Why do you think he loitered in Gotham so long?" I asked as I pulled my map up in my cowl to identify their position on Miagani.

"Can't blame him. Either of them, really. Foster homes are never too cushy, neither are prison cells. This probably felt like a vacation home to them both," Robin added.

"Yeah, but Lawton's got the resources to go anywhere. Why would he stay in Gotham any longer than he needed to?" I asked again.

"He was injured in the attack on Arkham Asylum," Batman reminded me. "He likely needed somewhere to recover."

"He was feeling well enough to attempt an assassination on Amanda Wahler only hours after his confrontation with you, Joker, and Quinn," I reminded him. "I'd get if he needed to take the rest of the day to sleep it off or something… but he stuck around for over a week, knowing fully well that you'd be on his tail, Wahler might try to hunt him down, and even family services would be looking for him. Now that I think of it, it's kind of crazy he sent Zoe to pick up necessities from the market instead of going himself in disguise. He wouldn't have risked someone recognizing her or jeopardizing losing her unless it was pretty necessary, don't you think?"

This elicited a silent response from Batman and Robin's end. I'd hit on something here. Deadshot hadn't been loitering in Gotham idly. He was either more injured than we knew, likely from a separate encounter, or he was waiting for something. Something he knew was coming but we wouldn't: a diversion, a ride, or a trap.

"Get out of that apartment, now," I urged them. "Don't touch anything, it could be a tra…"

Before I could finish my thought, I heard an alarm from their side of the communicator. A fire alarm.

"Alfred, can you confirm that's a real alarm?" I asked.

"I believe so," Alfred answered promptly. "Gotham fire department is dispatching three units to your location, Master Bruce. The report indicates active fires on the first through third floors."

"Deadshot's counting on us being distracted by evacuating the building," Batman answered. "Robin, get down to the lower floors and evacuate victims in imminent danger."

"On it," Robin responded snappily.

"Batgirl, this was planned. Deadshot's making his move now. Find him and stop him," Batman ordered.

"Alfred, has facial ID software picked anything up?" I asked.

"Not on the bridges or main roads, Miss Gordon," he replied. Okay… no sign of Deadshot or his daughter on the main roads…

"Because he's not taking the main roads…" I said quietly to myself as I closed my eyes, frustrated I hadn't thought of it sooner. "Alfred, pull up the schematics to that building. Does it have subbasement access?"

"Checking now, Miss Gordon," he said, but I assumed I already knew the answer and I changed directions to head towards Miagani. "Yes, it does."

"Batman, the building had access to old sewer tunnels under the city. Deadshot used the tunnels to escape. Without getting someone in those tunnels, there's no way we can figure out his escape route until facial ID software picks him up on his way out," I said, revving the motorcycle as I hurried to Miagani. At the very least, I knew each island's sewer system was built independently; he couldn't cross islands through these tunnels. He had to come up somewhere.

"I'll track him down in the tunnels," Batman reassured me. I pulled onto the island and I looped off the main roads towards a quiet alley on the lower part of the island, thinking through the possibilities.

Deadshot had to know we'd be watching the bridges and main roads. He also knew that Batgirl would probably be backup for Batman, so both of us wouldn't be totally monopolized by evacuating the burning building. So he must have a backup plan to keep us either distracted or off his scent. What he didn't know was that we had Robin, and that extra set of hands would be his undoing.

"Alfred, map out potential routes from this entrance to the tunnels and give me all exit points that could be reached within 30 minutes," Batman commanded. "Deadshot wouldn't risk being down here for longer than that, wouldn't subject his daughter to that."

"Right you are," Alfred confirmed as I heard the clacking of a keyboard through his comm unit. The sounds of sirens filled the air around me, as well as the scent of smoke. "Sir, there are nine potential exits…"

"That's too many to check," I grumbled to myself with a shake of my head.

"One of them is Grand Avenue Station," Alfred suggested.

"Batgirl," Batman started to command, but I had already aimed and fired my grapnel gun at a rooftop.

"On it," I called back as I whipped through the air, my hair rippling in the wind behind me. It would only take me ten minutes or so to get to the station via rooftops, but the clock was ticking fast.

"Alfred, call Gordon," I called, forcing myself to ignore the weird feeling of calling my dad by our last name as if he were just a workplace associate. "Tell him to stop all trains, Deadshot may be on one."

"No," Batman returned. "If the trains are halted, Deadshot will know we're onto him. Instead, get inside Gotham City Metro's security cameras and run Batgirl's facial ID scan for Deadshot and his daughter."

"Uh, of course. It will take some time, though; I do not share Miss Gordon's expertise in such matters," he said.

"Hurry, Alfred," was all Batman said in reply as I pushed myself to sprint across the rooftops faster. I wanted to ask Alfred for an outgoing train schedule, but I didn't want to distract him from the task at hand. A positive ID on cameras would be far more useful than a guess at which train he'd be taking.

"Robin, how is evacuation going?" I called over the communicator. A cough answered me.

"It's pretty toasty in here," Jason answered, his voice a bit strained. "The fire's spreading fast. Looks like the sprinkler system was disabled, and the hallways lit up fast. He must have used an accelerant to keep things interesting."

"Have the fire trucks arrived?"

"Yeah, EMS too. They're getting started on putting out the lower levels and tending to the folks I've evacuated already," he said. The sound of pounding against a wooden door caught my attention; Jason was throwing his weight against a door, trying to break it down. He tried it a third time, fourth time, fifth time.

"Step back and land a kick with the heel of your foot right by the deadbolt," I instructed him. I heard the slamming sounds stop, a pause, then a loud, splintering crash as the kick landed and the door busted open.

"Thank you much," he called to me through the comm. "Everyone to the window, let's go! Grab the cat, she's comin' too!"

"Alfred, I've arrived at Grand Central Station," I said into my communicator as I perched on a decorative pillar above the station. On the platform below stood commuters, some intrigued by the plume of smoke from a nearby building, but many (more experienced Gothamites, assuredly) were unfazed by the blaze, looking down at their phones and newspapers. I even heard two men in suits mumbling to each other, 'think it's Firefly?' 'Nah, that guy's been gone for years. Probably dead.'

"Any luck on Metro cameras?" I asked Alfred over the communicator.

"Not yet, Miss Gordon," he said, though I could hear the mashing of keys in the background as he tried to figure it out. It would be too difficult and frustrating to try to coach him through it over the communicator, so I instead turned on my detective mode to try to make out locations of passengers that may not want to be out in the open.

Grand Central Station is a big hub for commuter trains going everywhere, not just through the different boroughs of Gotham. From Bludhaven and Metropolis to New York City and Hoboken, all the trains made a stop here. Accordingly, there were over a dozen lounges on different levels for passengers to relax in while they waited for their trains. There was no way I could scan all the lounges for Deadshot unless I got my eyes on them, which would mean blowing my cover; and as soon as passengers started whispering that Batgirl was here, he'd grab Zoe and be gone in an instant. All I could do was stay perched up high and wait for someone to try to board a train either in disguise or keeping their head low to avoid cameras. I had no choice but to wait to take reactive action, rather than preemptive. That wasn't how I liked to work.

"Batman, any luck?" I asked into the communicator.

"Not much," Batman said. "It's strange. I'm finding a trail of what I think is Deadshot- the faint trace of gunpowder- but it's just him. No sign that anyone was with him. Almost like he left alone."

"That's not possible, right?" I asked. "There's no way he would have left Zoe, or told her to go a different way on her own, right?"

"Not likely," Batman agreed. "Do we have surveillance footage up on the exits to the building?"

"Yes sir. Oh," Alfred inhaled with a tone of surprise. "The facial recognition software just picked up Zoe's face… she's being taken out of the building now by EMTs."

"He left her in a burning building?" I said, so incredulous that I was a little louder than I'd wanted to be. Someone of the platform looked up and saw me, inhaling a gasp.

"Something's not right," Batman noted. I grabbed my grapnel gun and leapt from the column.

"Robin, can you get to Zoe?" I asked.

"Uh," I heard Jason's overwhelmed voice, muffled by the screams of someone shouting in Mandarin and a crying baby, "I'm a bit occupied at the moment."

"I'm heading back to the building; if Zoe's still there, I'm going to sit on her. Deadshot will be back for her before long," I said.

"Security footage showed her being loaded into an ambulance, which has already departed for the hospital," Alfred noted. I wrinkled my brow: that was fast. Usually an EMT squad would take a little more time to assess a condition before speeding off to a hospital.

"I'm heading back up to the surface. Two of us can clear the building while the other keeps an eye on the girl," Batman said. A grumbling through the communicator caught my attention: a low, growling voice, though I couldn't make out the words. "Jones. I thought you'd left Gotham."

"Miss Gordon, I believe Batman has been confronted by Killer Croc," Alfred said into the communicator.

As I landed on a rooftop just a block away from the burning building, my mind reeled as I put together all the pieces. Croc in the tunnels… the fire… the smoke… "Shit."

"Alfred, do you have a trace on the ambulance with Zoe inside?" I demanded as I changed course and sprinted in the direction of the nearest hospital: Elliot Memorial.

"I can try to find it…"

"Find it. Deadshot's with her- probably disguised as an EMT," I said. "Robin, do you have the building under control?"

"Uh, I've got, uh… yeah, I got it," he stammered. Not exactly confidence inspiring.

"And Batman, you've got…" the sound of an explosion and a monstrous wailing cut me off. I would take that as a yes from Batman. "I'm in pursuit of Deadshot."

My bike wasn't close enough; I'd need to stick to rooftops and rely on my grapnel hook to get me across town in time. Which meant I only had one shot at guessing the right hospital; if I was wrong, I'd lose them.

"Alfred, have you located the ambulance?"

"Not yet, Miss…"

"The nearest hospital is Elliot Memorial," I interrupted him between my own sharp breaths as I sprinted. "Hack their cameras, watch for the ambulance."

"But… why would he take her to the hospital, if they had an ambulance? Why not just drive out of town?" Alfred asked.

"Because there's a helicopter pad," I shouted as I forced myself to sprint faster. In the distance, I could already see the helicopter perched on the top of Elliot Memorial. The rotors were not spinning. But as I leapt across a rooftop to a nearer building, I watched as they began to turn. So slowly at first that I thought I might be imagining it, then faster and faster until they looked invisible above the helicopter.

"Miss Gordon, I've identified the ambulance; it's already arrived at Elliot Memorial," Alfred rushed me and I grunted with exertion as I forced myself to sprint even harder. I aimed my grapnel gun quickly and fired at one of the lower rooflines of the hospital, nearly missing in my hard run. Luckily it hit, and the gun zipped me upwards, my legs buzzing with exhaustion as I temporarily flexed my toes into a point. I leapt over the side of the roof as I heard the rotors begin to thud louder; a sign that the chopper was near take off. I fired the gun once more to reach the helicopter pad, my ears rendered useless with the thudding sounds of the rotors slicing through the air. I scrambled to the edge of the roof just in time to see a sleeping Zoe lying on a stretcher inside the cabin of the helicopter, and Deadshot. Dressed in an EMT's uniform, with one foot in the chopper and the other on the skid below, his face turned over his shoulder, glaring at me.

I saw him reach for the gun a half a second before I let go of the stone railing lining the roof. As I fell backwards, I watched the stone where my hand had been explode with the impact of a bullet. By the time I thought about how to land on my feet, it was too late. I crashed onto the concrete, four stories below, with a thud that sucked the wind out of my lungs. Luckily, the durability of my suit ensured that my body had not been broken, but I was certain I'd bruised a rib and I wouldn't be doing any back exercises for a while.

It took me a moment to force my eyes to open as my body fought to suck in a breath. When I finally could, I propped myself up on my elbow and stared into the sky, where the helicopter was rising steadily above the hospital. Deadshot stood on the skid, the chopper door still open behind him, his severe jaw cocked into a small smile as he stared down at me. His gun was still in his hand, hanging low at his side. A layman might miss a shot at me from this distance, but not Lawton; all he had to do was lift his wrist, just a little, and pull the trigger. I couldn't hope to run or dodge the shot, much less to catch him.

So I stay lying there, propped up on my elbow and holding my ribs as I stared up at the chopper.

Lawton raised the gun, but he didn't fire; he lifted the gun to his brow and used it to salute me as the chopper turned to the south. I waited on the rooftop and watched the chopper disappear into the distance, a small part of me hopeful that Lawton and Zoe managed to stay hidden wherever they went, to be father and daughter in peace.