There were many things Selina Kyle was good at. Stealing was right at the top of her list of capabilities, along with her brain and her looks. Running a crime family was a bit of a surprise, but hey, she wasn't going to question her knack for it.

Schmoozing with rich people, on the other hand…

That had been her entire reason for going to that dumb party. See, she needed members of the City Council on her side when she made her proposal. There was zoning, utilities, construction, even union leadership she needed to win over. That didn't even take into account the environmental roadblocks either. Projects like this weren't rubber stamped in a day, ya know.

Chris had been the one to tell her this, so she had dolled herself up, and gone to the party. There had been a handful of people she needed to win over, but she felt she at least made a good impression. They weren't all old men, unfortunately; old men liked the attention of young women, and that she could work with. She had all the assets they could possibly want.

Even if it made her feel a bit dirty.

Don't get her wrong, it wasn't that she struggled to win over old, rich men. A little flirting got you very far with them. It was that she didn't like doing it. Even she had her standards.

The City Council, on the other hand, was diverse. There were women now! Problem was, women weren't as easily impressed by good looks unless they swung that way. The ones she encountered weren't. That meant she had to impress them in other ways.

"That seemed to go well," Chris said as he stood nearby. They had only returned, the early hours of the day just beginning, making the night very late. Selina sat in front of a table with a mirror attached to it, taking off her earrings and jewelry. Each piece was set carefully on the wooden table.

"I certainly hope so," Selina replied drily. "I'm certain I gave each and every councilman an eyeful."

"We need these people for this plan of yours, Ms. Kyle," her lawyer reminded her. "Anything you can do to grease the wheels will go a long way. It won't be long before Nick has all the land you need."

"How is that cousin of mine doing, anyways?"

"He purchased much of the land. There are a few holdouts, but one of them seems to be giving in. I'll check with him later to see his progress."

Well, that was one less thing. With her jewelry off, Selina leaned to one side so that she could reach for her shoes. She grabbed onto the heel and slipped her foot out, feeling soreness throughout it. While she loved the high heels, they did a number on her feet. She was probably going to have to ice them before too long to make certain there wasn't any swelling. Plantar fasciitis was a bitch.

"Now, we need to discuss investors."

Selina paused as she reached for her other heel. What investors? she couldn't help but think. Glancing at the large man as his reflection appeared in her mirror, she nearly scowled. "Who said anything about investors?" she questioned pointedly.

Chris didn't seem the least bit concerned with her mood. "If you honestly believe the Calabrese family was going to foot the bill, I must inform you that you'll never get the power plant built. The family simply doesn't have the funds."

This time she spun around on her stool and glared at the man. "What do you mean we don't have the funds? This is organized crime for crying out loud! Money is what gives it power!"

"Illegally gained money," Chris pointed out. "In order to use it, it has to be laundered, or moved into circulation without the authorities knowing. That takes time. For this endeavor, it's too slow."

"When were you going to tell me this? After we broke ground?"

"Actually, I intended to tell you at the party, but we were interrupted."

Interrupted? Oh, he must have meant Wayne. Now, that had been a surprisingly enjoyable moment. Apparently, Wayne hadn't been kidding about not trying with her. She had lost track of time dancing with him. If he was serious about chasing her…

…well, let's just say she wouldn't be too sad if she was caught.

"In fact, Bruce Wayne would be perfect as an investor," Chris continued. "If Gotham's business class sees him investing, they'll assuredly join in."

"So, not only do I have to tempt politicians, but I need to round up investors too?" Selina groused. "Do you have any idea how much work that's going to be involved?"

"If your choice in dress is any indication, not much more than tonight's effort."

Selina was pretty certain Chris was taking a shot at her wardrobe, or he was merely stating a fact. Either way, she didn't like it.

"Of course, we'll need to be careful with Wayne," the lawyer continued. "He's been approached by Shreck about the same project as us. If he's already suspicious about Shreck, then he may suspect something with us too."

"Seriously? Bruce Wayne?" the blonde woman questioned. "Are you certain he even has the capacity to think outside of how to bed women?"

"I'll admit, I did have the impression of him, but he does run Wayne Enterprises. All reports indicate this after he ousted his Board of Directors. After tonight, I'd rather not underestimate him if we can help it."

Hmm, she hadn't heard of that. Oh, sure, that would have made the news back when it happened, but Selina paid it scant attention at the time. Perhaps she needed to look more into Wayne just to make certain her prejudices weren't running wild.

"Find out everything you can on Wayne," Selina ordered. "If we're going to try and get him on board, then I don't want any surprises. If he's some underrated genius, I want to know before I approach him. If he's as influential as you claim he is, then we don't need him turning everyone against us."

"I'll see to it," Chris said before he turned and left. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Selina turned her attention back to the mirror on her mirror. Her reflection stared back. Absently, she thought back to Wayne.

Perhaps he wasn't the pursuer as the two of them made him out to be. It seemed more like he was the prey now—her prey. Hmm, this was going to be more exciting than she thought.


Something had been different last night.

As Harper laid on her bed, hands behind her head, she felt…accomplished. Ecstatic. Powerful.

The patrol had gone so much better than anyone could have expected. She even punched someone rather than used her taser rifle. Batgirl had insisted on that part and Harper could see why. The first face she had punched last night had been a mugger holding up a woman at knifepoint. She had repelled to the ground between them, grabbed the mugger's wrist so that he couldn't stab her, and then punched his lights out.

Stephanie had done well too. She had been next, only it was a couple of carjackers. She had taken out the lookout with a judo move, and then knocked out the driver. Again, Batgirl forbade her from using her throwing stars.

That was how most of their night went. They found a crime-in-progress and stopped it. Fists, kicks, grapples, you name it, they used it. In fact, Harper couldn't remember if she even used her taser rifle. She recalled seeing a couple of guns, but Stephanie's throwing stars took care of those.

In fact, she couldn't remember if Batgirl even stepped in at all.

Not a thing had gone wrong, or so the blue-haired girl thought. Well, maybe the throbbing in her knuckles she could live without, but what did you expect after punching people? It was something she could live with, even if she needed to use a couple of ice packs to make it more tolerable.

It was expected the next night they would be training, but that was alright. She knew that was coming. Hopefully, Batgirl would tell them the night after that they would be patrolling again.

God, she missed patrolling.

It was like an old friend, one she hadn't seen in what felt like years. The staking out, the running across rooftops, the grapple guns, they were all things she had to get used to again, but she found herself falling back into old patterns.

They didn't stay out all night, however. Batgirl had cut things off about, one, maybe two in the morning. Said they had done enough and needed to not push themselves too fast. Harper felt they could have gone longer, but hey, she was a team player. She knew the girl could end their patrol whenever she wanted, especially if things went wrong. Things haden't, so they basically ended the patrol on a high note.

So that was why she was laying on her bed, buzzed from excitement, and unable to sleep. At the foot of her bed, Stephanie was laying there, horizontal to the blue-haired girl's vertical, so her legs were dangling off the edge of the mattress. She was spending the night here after letting her mom know she was having a sleepover with a friend. Harper was certain Mrs. Brown would have a heart attack if she knew her daughter was in the slums.

"You asleep?" Harper called out to her.

"No," the blonde replied.

"Me neither."

"I kinda guessed."

"How could I be? We had such a good night!"

"An incredible night," Stephanie agreed.

"You just know we're going to do more of it."

"I know. It was…different too. I didn't feel like I was out of control the entire time, ya know?"

Yeah, Harper had felt that too. That was one thing that was different about their patrol with Batgirl versus Nightwing. Nightwing had always planned their moves, so they were just following roles. Batgirl just told them to do the job however they saw fit, just as long as they didn't die. It gave them agency, she felt. At first, it was scary because Harper didn't have her assigned role, but soon she came to like it.

That wasn't to knock Nightwing or anything. He was only doing what he felt was best for their survival, and it had worked. He had two stubborn teenage girls to look after, so he was going to make certain they returned home at night. Perhaps if he had trusted them a little more…

Then again, he couldn't train them like Batgirl could.

And maybe that was what the difference was. They were more capable fighters now; all of that training was paying off. It was a welcomed surprise to not be landing on her ass too.

Clearly there was something to all of this training.

"You've really improved," Harper said. "Outside of a few guns, I think you did more ass kicking than I've ever seen you do."

"Same to you," Stephanie replied. "You actually got your hands dirty. I don't think I saw you use your tasers at all."

Harper grinned. "I can certainly get used to that."

Stephanie suddenly rolled onto her side. "We were busy all night, but I was wondering: do we mention what we know to Batgirl?"

Harper's mood immediately went down. Right, they knew Batgirl's identity, along with potentially Batman's. They hadn't mentioned that at all, even when they were in the BatCave. It was like they had made a vow not to mention it without ever verbalizing it. Then they were just too busy to think about it.

But it was something they were going to have to talk about. Batman already knew who they were, he had said as much. Batgirl knew them too since she would have gotten that information out of Bat-Daddy. Or she figured it out on her own, not that it mattered either way. Regardless, both Harper and Stephanie didn't bother hiding their faces in the BatCave. It wouldn't be a stretch for her to figure out everything about them.

"I'm…not sure," she answered after awhile. "I mean, how do you bring this up? 'Oh, hey, Batgirl, I know who you are and incidentally, I know who Batman is. Still friends?'"

"I highly suggest we don't do it that way," Stephanie replied. "I guess the question is should we tell her?"

"She already knows who we are. I guess it would be fair to tell her."

"That's true," the blonde girl murmured. "But how? Aside from your rhetorical bluntness."

"Bluntness is all I've got," Harper shrugged. "If you want to finesse it, then you work on it."

"Sure, let the smart girl do all the work," Stephanie grumbled. "Just like all of my group projects."


The elevator seemed to be shaking more than it usually did. Never mind that the ride was always smooth save for when it slowed down to stop at a floor, Cassandra could swear she felt every vibration.

She was feeling nervous. Perhaps that's why she could swear the elevator was shaking and rattling. Next to her, her father was standing calmly, expectantly. How could he feel this way? Couldn't he tell she was—"

"Nervous?" he suddenly asked, as if he were riding her mind.

Considering there was an actual telepath in his head, she couldn't rule out that he had been prompted. Never mind that he was trained to pick up subtle cues about people through body language, she was putting her money on the telepath. Still, she chose to be civil. "A little," she told him.

"You'll do fine. You're a fast learner and Lucius will be patient. You couldn't ask for a better situation."

"Doesn't mean I can't feel nervous."

He chuckled—chuckled! Was she amusing him? Yeah, forget the telepath, no way would she tell him that was funny. "I'm so glad you're amused," she said sarcastically.

"Why yes, yes I am," he replied cheekily. "No pressure or anything, but if this doesn't work out, there's always the mailroom."

"...I am never going back there," she responded darkly.

"All the more reason to do your best, which I know you will." The bemused look on his face vanished as he looked at her seriously. "There is no pressure here; you're just learning. Karen might give you some lip, but you have my backing and Lucius'. That will go far. You do well over the next couple of months and we'll find you something else."

"You promise?"

"Of course."

The elevator slid to a stop and opened. Cassandra saw the familiar sight of her father's office doors, though the desk next to it was empty. Were they here that early? Her father took a step forward to leave the elevator, a noticeable limp in his step.

He had gotten that last night while on patrol, or so he claimed. While she was doing her practice run with the Batclan—which turned out better than she had thought—he had done his own short patrol since he had that dumb party to attend to. Apparently, someone had managed to hit his knee, or he landed wrongly, or something as he was limping. He had been vague about it.

"Oh good, you're both early."

Turning her head, Cassandra saw Lucius standing in the mouth of a hallway, a calming smile on his face. "I was wondering if you were going to adopt your father's perchance for tardiness," he continued his greeting.

"Of course not," her father responded. "It's her first day working on this floor and I wanted to see her here personally."

"So you need a good reason to show up in a timely manner," the older man remarked. "Consider me informed, Bruce."

The dark-haired man winced. It was weird to see. Cassandra had always seen him in full control of his emotions; yet, he seemed so…different. Like he was trying to act like a normal person. Maybe it was an act; maybe that was just the way he behaved around certain people.

She wasn't certain how to feel about that.

Lucius then turned his sights onto her. This time she was certain to dress appropriately for her first day, unlike the mailroom. Casual was the rule of law down there, but up here they expected a professional look. Seeing her father dress in suits had reinforced this notion. So she was in a blouse and skirt, a blazer covering her shoulders. She even had her hair pulled into a bun.

"Welcome, Cassandra," Lucius greeted her warmly. "I'll be taking you away for the rest of the day. Karen isn't here yet, but I was hoping to see you first."

The dark-haired girl nodded. "I am here to help."

"That's good to hear." Lucius spared a glance to her father. "We'll see you at lunch, Bruce. I hope you don't have any plans then."

"I'll make certain I don't. 11:30, right?" the other man answered.

"That's right. Have Stephen do the double-checking, just to be safe."

Bruce just waved him off before he wrapped an arm around Cassandra's shoulders. She found herself moving her own arm behind his back, the two giving each other a sideways hug. At least that's what her Batclan girls told her it was. "Do your best and I'll see you later," he told her.

"I will."

Then they broke apart then, her father heading towards his office. Cassandra then began walking towards Lucius. The kindly man just led her down the hallway until they reached another area that looked just like the one in front of her father's office. There was a set of double doors in the same design, a reception desk right next to it. This one was decorated with little knick-knacks that belonged to the much-talked-about Karen.

"I wanted to get to know a little more about you," Lucius said as they stopped in front of the desk, the dark-skinned man turning to face her. "What are your goals? Your dream? What do you hope to get out of this?"

Those were not simple questions, so Cassandra didn't answer them immediately. She gave them some thought, something she felt this man would approve of.

Unfortunately, she never got to say them.

"Lucius!" she heard her father bellow.


Bruce watched as Cassandra walked off with Lucius. He wasn't expecting it, but he was feeling…pride at the step the girl was making. He imagined this was what a parent felt when they sent their child to college, or something like that. Seeing as college wasn't in her future, he figured this was the next best thing.

It was surprisingly emotional.

Seeing as he was alone at the moment, he took that time to compose himself. It wasn't like he had to be anywhere right then and there. Every assistant he had knew to purposefully leave his early mornings open. Today was no different. Letting himself calm down, he finally turned to his office and opened the door.

And then promptly froze.

The office was a mess. Chairs were overturned, documents from his desk scattered across the floor. Books had fallen off of a shelf and laid haphazardly in front of the bookcase. The door to his personal bathroom was open, the frame broken and splintered right where the lock would be.

All of that paled in comparison to what was in the middle of the room itself. Lying there in a pool of blood was a body, their face covered by their long hair.

What…what is this?

Cautiously, Bruce ventured into the room. Already he knew this was a crime scene. The smart thing would have been to back out of the room and call the police. The investigator in him, however, wanted to know what was going on here and who was dead in the middle of his office. He was mindful of where he stepped, making certain not to step on anything that may be evidence, which was pretty much the entire room.

He stopped before he walked into the puddle of blood. Slowly, he edged himself around it and knelt down next to the body. Already he could tell it was female based off of the proportions. Slowly, he reached a hand out, placing it on their shoulder, bare due to the dress they wore. It was cool to the touch, meaning the murder had happened in the last couple of hours.

Eyeing the body, Bruce could tell they were wearing an evening gown, something that wouldn't have been out of place at the gala he had attended last night. That possibly meant the victim had been kidnapped sometime last night, brought here, and killed. Why? What was the purpose for that?

Looking around the room again, he didn't see a purse. The dress would not afford pockets, so he wouldn't be able to find an ID on their person. The next best thing would be to check for a pulse, even move the hair from their face to see if he could recognize them.

Moving his hand, he used the back of his fingers to brush some of the blood-stained hair away, revealing their neck. With two fingers, he pressed them against her neck, searching for a carotid pulse. He wasn't expecting to find one, but tried regardless. Seconds went by and he felt nothing. That just left the face. Again, using the back of his hand and fingers, he moved the hair to get a better look.

Oh God…

He recognized her. Even after all of the bruising and swelling he saw, he recognized the face of Vesper Fairchild. What is she doing here? How did she get here? Those questions sprang up in his mind as he instinctively placed his hand on her cheek. Again, he felt coolness, perhaps colder than the shoulder, which made sense. Her face was further from her body than her shoulder, so it would cool faster as her core temperature dropped.

"Lucius!" he shouted, hoping the old man hadn't moved too far away to hear him. For a moment, he considered trying to do CPR, but he also knew that would involve moving Vesper and he could contaminate the crime scene. No, he verified she was dead, so there was no point in moving her around, assuming her body's position was a clue itself. CPR would do nothing for her.

Yanking his hand back, he felt something wet on his skin. A quick glance told him it was blood, the pattern an indication of it rubbing off of her hair when he moved it. He had to resist the urge to wipe it clean since that would involve getting it on his clothes.

Standing up, he then retraced his steps back to his office door, again mindful not to step on anything that could be taken as a clue, which was everything at this point. Arriving at the door, he saw Lucius appearing out of the hallway that led to his own office, Cassandra right behind him. As luck would have it, the elevator doors were opening, Stephen arriving, though he stopped at the sight of the three of them, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Call an ambulance," Bruce ordered forcefully. "And the police. Someone left a body in my office."