Pre-Author's Note: For those of you who are asking me to update more often, please stop. This story gets weekly updates. I established that some time ago. That is not going to change.

Gotham City

When Laurel decided she was staying in Gotham full-time in order to receive vigilante training, the question became whether or not to do it as Dinah Laurel Lance or as someone else. Part of her wanted to do it as the former and reunite with her friends and family, knowing how much her death had to have hurt them. But the rest of her balked at the idea — she wasn't ready to go home yet. And if she met with those same loved ones now, they would start to question why she was staying in Gotham for the time being instead of going back to Starling with them, where she truly belonged. Not to mention, people would talk a female vigilante showed up around the same time Laurel came back to life, and seemingly followed her back to Starling.

So she decided that, for the meantime, her real identity had to stay dead. Instead, Laurel decided to co-opt her "Myra Kallen" identity and use that instead. Barbara confirmed that the digital trail for "Myra" had not been wiped away by the League, so it was little problem for them to use it for their own purposes. The other woman had quickly built-up more documentation to safeguard the false identity, including a few forged papers such as a passport and a driver's license, to make "Myra" a real person, even if she really wasn't.

This wouldn't be an issue if she just stayed cooped up inside the Clocktower or Wayne Manor or the dozen other little locations the Bats had under their ownership, but everyone quickly determined that wasn't going to be feasible. Laurel needed to go out there and experience the world if she was ever going to move on with her life and maintain whatever was left of her sanity. Besides, she wanted to do things that made her feel useful, beyond her impending career as a vigilante.

To that end, she had begun visiting Park Row, better known colloquially as Crime Alley, the second worse neighborhood in Gotham after the Cauldron (which might as well exist in its own little world). Despite its terrible reputation, Park Row had a well-regarded local community center that put out several regular outreach events, including soup kitchens and charity drives. And better than that, the events didn't require her name or face to be recorded if she wanted to volunteer, so it was safe for her to go there.

So with a light heart, Laurel took the bus to Park Row, her hair dyed wine red and with blue contacts in her eyes. It was about half an hour before she made it to her stop, and then about five minutes walking until she arrived at the center. Already, the tables were out on the sidewalk, decorated with plates, bowls, utensils, and numerous pots and pans, filled with warm, hearty food. People were already lined up for their own meals, so Laurel was quickly directed inside so she could put on an apron and a hair net before joining the rest of the line servers.

They placed her at the end, helping to serve the pasta and bread. Laurel plastered on her best smile as she greeted her first patron and began filling their plate. Some of the attendees today were new, but a lot of the people in line she recognized easily as regulars. Those, she chatted with far more easily.

Her smile brightened a touch when one of those regulars appeared at her station. Jason Peter Todd was a sixteen year old Gotham native who had lived a very rough life. His no good father had been a former enforcer for the Penguin who was bumped off by Two-Face, and his mother was a heroin addict that eventually succumbed to breast cancer, leaving him on the streets for good. He had been in and out of juvie since then, taking up the life of a thief to make ends meet.

Despite that, however, he was a good kid. He never actively victimized anyone from the alley and went out of his way to protect the younger children and share his spoils with them. Most of his targets were usually the rich, mainly the criminal elite that had taken advantage of the poor and destitute that lived in his neighborhood. It had earned him a reputation and more than a few scars, but he had declared it "worth it".

He had taken a shine to "Myra" immediately, after she went out of her way to help get supplies for the working girls that hung around the corner near his apartment. They had taken up to chatting every time they met up, and it wasn't long before they developed a casual friendship. Laurel found herself growing genuinely fond of him, and a part of her wondered if she could find him a way out of his unfortunate circumstances.

"Hi Jay," she greeted genuinely, taking his plate and putting some pasta on it. "How've you been?"

"Pretty good," he told her, shrugging nonchalantly. "Though things in the alley have been a bit tense lately."

"Oh?" Laurel couldn't hide her curiosity. "How so?"

Jason looked around for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head at her. "I'll tell you later," he promised.

That meant whatever he had was sensitive and could get him into trouble if the wrong person overheard him talking. Which meant whatever it was, it was serious. Laurel nodded, though she couldn't quite hide her frown.

The second, underlying reason why she was visiting Crime Alley on a regular basis was for information gathering. Barbara's computers and her skill with them were beyond compare when it came to such things, but in the end, there was some knowledge that never quite hit the screen and could only be learned on the ground. Gossip, whispers, rumors — that was why Laurel was here. To learn them and to see if any of it was information worth acting on.

During her break, she met with Jason at his table, which was purposely in the loneliest corner of the building. Laurel set down her own plate and began to eat, and they exchanged easy small talk. Then, Jason told her what was bothering him.

"There's someone trying to recruit their own crew for some bank heists in the city," he spoke in a low voice, occasionally shifting his eyes to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Most of the recruits are from gangs in both here and in the Narrows, but some of the independents have been picked up as well."

Laurel frowned. "Including you?"

He shook his head, and Laurel internally let out a sigh of relief. Neither she nor the Bats would have to take down her friend after all. "I've fielded a few offers but refused all of them," Jason revealed. "I don't want a charge of armed robbery on my record; I'm already at an age where the courts could try me as an adult if the crime is serious enough."

"That's good," she noted. Laurel hesitated for a moment, but pressed on. "Do you know if it's a new player or an old hat? Just so I know who not to piss off."

"New player," Jason answered. His face scrunched up a bit. "Word on the street is that he calls himself 'The Calculator'."

Seattle

"So you're from Midvale?" Sara asked, absentmindedly straightening out her flashcards. "Where's that?"

Alex took a sip of her water bottle and swallowed. "About sixty miles outside of Metropolis. Small town, a bit remote. It's still home, but I don't regret leaving — needed to get out and see the world for a bit."

Sara nodded, humming. "And that led you to medical school."

"Well, I plan on becoming a bio-engineer, and med school is a stepping stone to that. What about you? What do you intend to do?"

"Probably something like pediatrics. Maybe even primary care." The younger woman shrugged. "Really, I just want to help people." Helping people was what Laurel wanted to do, after all.

They got chatting for a bit before carrying on with studying. Out of courtesy, they started out with pharmacology, then moving onto anatomy. Before Sara knew it, several hours had passed — they had gotten so into the material that they had lost track of the clock.

"I better head on home," she told Alex as she began packing up her bag. "Same time again on Saturday?"

Alex smiled. "You can count on it."

The week came and went, and then Saturday arrived. Sara went to Alex's and the two picked up where they left off, in addition to adding some of the new material they had learned during the week. This time, they were much more mindful of the time, and as it neared eight o'clock, Alex made an unexpected suggestion. "You want to go out?"

Sara blinked. "Where to?"

"How about a club? We've been studying hard these past couple of hours and it wouldn't hurt to go out and let loose for a bit."

The suggestion wasn't unappealing. While Sara had sworn off hard partying after her disastrous breakdown in the weeks after Laurel's death, that didn't mean she was afraid to occasionally go to a party or club and do some socializing. There was a reason she hadn't balked at planning Tommy's birthday party, after all.

"Sure. Sounds fun. You already got a place in mind?"

It turned out Alex did. A new hot club called Warriors had just opened up downtown, managed by a former school teacher and police officer named Guy Gardener. Warriors had quickly gained a reputation for good food, even better drinks, and awesome entertainment. Alex had been meaning to try it out for sometime but didn't feel like going alone, and Sara's presence had solved that problem.

The two had to wait in line a bit before they could get inside, but once they were in, they couldn't help but be impressed. Warriors had this strange but impressive neon green theme accompanied by a lot of lanterns to serve as tasteful decoration as much as it did lighting. Both women went ahead to find a table and ordered some drinks (virgin, for Sara) so they could get into the mood before joining everyone else on the dance floor.

Before they could, however, they found themselves running into some guys. "Oh!" one of them exclaimed, jumping back from the drink Sara nearly spilled on him.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry about that," Sara quickly apologized, pulling the glass back and setting it down on the counter. "I didn't spill anything on you, did I?"

"No, no, it's fine," the man told him. He was kind of cute, with dark hair, green eyes, and a charming smile. "My fault for not looking where I was going. The name's Kyle Rayner. Who might you be?"

Sara blushed slightly. It had been a while since she'd been in the game, and she was a bit out of practice when it came to flirting. "Sara. Sara Lance."

They fell into an easy conversation. Sara learned that Kyle was a freelance graphic artist from LA that was in town to visit one of his friends — the owner of the night club in fact, Guy Gardener. This was going to be his last night in Seattle before he headed back to LA.

"So, are you here with anyone?" Kyle asked, his grin turning a touch roguish.

"I am, actually," Sara confirmed, a hint of a smile. "My friend, Alex. She should be coming back soo—"

"YOU BITCH!"

Whatever she had been about to say had been immediately cut off by that screech. The immediate area immediately fell silent, the only sound being the music, as every eye turned to the direction of the commotion. Sara felt her eyes bulge in horror when she saw who it was: Alex, and some woman Sara didn't know with brunette hair.

But while Sara didn't know her, it was clear Alex did. "You're as big a bitch as ever, Danvers!" the woman claimed, getting right up into Alex's face.

Alex didn't back down, however. "Maybe so, but at least I didn't become a bigger bitch like you did, Donahue," she shot back.

'Donahue' let out another screech and before anyone knew it, she had thrown herself at Alex. The two women fell to the floor and began screaming at each other as they rolled around, trying to rip out each other's hair. People immediately moved to try and separate them, including Sara, who bid a hasty farewell to Kyle. By the time she got there, however, security was already getting involved in the brawl and pulling them apart.

They ended up getting thrown out. Sara didn't get a chance to see Kyle again before having to follow Alex outside. Donahue and her entourage had been thrown out as well, and the other woman made sure to linger long enough to give Alex the finger before heading her own way. Alex glared at the woman's back after that before turning to Sara with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry about that," she said, but Sara waved her off.

"Not the first time I've been thrown out of a club," Sara noted. Or the second, or the third, truth be told. "I'm more worried about you. Who was that?"

Alex looked away. "Vicki Donahue. My ex-best friend from high school. I didn't expect to see her here, and well, let's just say we didn't end our friendship on good terms."

That's putting it mildly. A person didn't get into, for lack of a better term, a cat fight with an ex-friend unless things ended really badly between them. Sara adopted a comforting expression. "What happened?" she asked.

"It was mostly my fault," Alex confessed, rubbing the back of her head. "I was… dealing with something at the time, and it was really stressing me out. So I took it out on Vicki, kept on searching for just about any reason to fight with her. Eventually, she had enough and we stopped talking. Seeing her again tonight brought all those old feelings to the surface, and I couldn't help myself."

Sara didn't say anything, just taking Alex's hand and giving it a squeeze. The other woman sighed. "I wish I could apologize, but after tonight, I doubt Vicki would want to hear it, if she ever had before."

"Just give it time," the blonde suggested. "She'll cool down eventually, and if you two really were ever friends, then she'll hear you out."

Alex looked doubtful, but she didn't completely shut the suggestion down. "Okay," she said instead. Then, "Thanks for letting me unload all of this onto you. I know it can't have been easy, especially after I ruined our night."

"Like I said before, it's fine," Sara replied, brushing the apology off. While she might've enjoyed chatting up Kyle a bit more, the most it would've led to was probably a one-night stand, and truth be told casual sex wasn't nearly as appealing as it used to be. "I get it, you know. Sometimes, you just need to talk to someone. I don't mind being that for you — we're friends, after all."

"Yeah," the older woman agreed, adopting a small, soft smile. "We are."

Sara smiled back. "Come on, it's getting late," she said, tugging at her friend's hand. "We better head back to your place. I need to pick up my stuff before heading home."

Gotham City

When Laurel came to the team with the information she got from Jason, she wasn't met with a promise that they would look into it. Instead, she was met with the option to help look into the situation herself. "You're finally letting me out into the field?" she asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

Bruce nodded, some semblance of a smile on his face. "Your training has been going well, and you know how to hold back from killing now. You haven't made a kill shot in weeks," he said, nodding towards a dummy in the training area. It was a special design made by Lucius, with an in-built alarm that sounded every time it suffered a lethal blow. Laurel had struggled with it at first, but the annoying sound had been great motivation to pick up non-lethal combat quickly.

With the decision made, when night fell Laurel found herself driven in disguise to Wayne Tower, riding in the backseat of the Batmobile. When Bruce, Dick, and her arrived in the secret bunker where the R&D for Batman's technology was, Lucius Fox was already waiting for them, along with his son Luke Fox. Laurel had been introduced to them after she had fully settled in with Barbara and started her training.

"Excited to see your new suit?" Luke asked her as they headed inside one of the labs.

Laurel nodded, unable to keep the grin off her face. One of the first things she'd done was give the Foxes her old League suit and weapons, not wanting to see either ever again. It had been her way of finally letting go of that chapter in her life. They two had instead opted to study and possibly use the material in the makings of her vigilante suit.

Lucius headed to one of the mannequins inside the lab, where a tarp was covering it. He waited until everyone was inside and surrounding the mannequin before removing it with a flourish, revealing what was beneath. Laurel's jaw dropped, and she unconsciously put her hands to her mouth in awe. "Lucius, this is incredible!"

"I take it you like it?" the old scientist asked, pleased.

"I love it!" Laurel exclaimed, reaching out to feel the material.

The suit was comprised of a black leather and fishnet jacket with yellow detailing. It was accompanied by a bodysuit and pants made of similar material and detailing, along with thigh-high boots and fingerless gloves. It had its own utility belt, notably slimmed down from the model that Bruce used. Topping it off was a black domino mask, not unlike the one Dick wore as Nightwing.

"I know you prefer hand-to-hand, but sometimes that's not advisable, so we also included some leg holsters for weapons," Lucius explained. "Any preferences?"

"Quarter staffs," Laurel answered instantly. She had taken a liking to staffs ever since Bruce had given her one during the Joker Gas incident. Plus, it was much harder to kill someone with them.

"Alright. In addition, we have something else for you." At his father's gesture, Luke came forward with a box, and opened it. To Laurel's surprise, it had a platinum blonde wig.

He handed the box over to her, which she took hesitantly. "It was Bruce's suggestion," Luke told her. "Wine red is a distinctive color and would've made your identity more easily compromised. This wig will help disguise you for now. We're also in the process of making you a fast-acting dye in this color that you can use. When you return to Starling and stop dying your hair red, you can stop using the wig and just use that instead."

That made sense. Laurel took out the wig and tried it on, and turned to her fellow vigilantes for opinions. Bruce gave her a nod while Dick gave her two thumbs up. Satisfied, Laurel packed the wig back into the box. "Thank you for all of this," she told the father and son.

"It was our pleasure, Miss Lance," Lucius accepted her gratitude with a smile.

"Yeah. We were happy to help!" Luke added with a grin and a thumbs up of his own.

"So what now?" Laurel asked, turning back to Bruce and Dick.

"The last thing on the list: your codename!" Dick exclaimed childishly.

Bruce did his best to ignore his adoptive son's exuberance as he addressed his latest student. "We doubt you want to continue using Aswad as your call-sign," he said, and Laurel made a face.

He was right. Aswad had worked in the heat of the moment, when they were in the middle of a crisis and needed something to call her that wouldn't compromise her identity. But Taer Al-Aswad wasn't who she was anymore, nor someone she wanted to be anymore. She was best left in the past. That being said, it might also be good to have some connection to it, if only so it might be easier to remember.

"So," Dick started, doing horribly at keeping his own eagerness off his face. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe," Laurel said, putting on her thinking face. "Taer Al-Aswad means 'black bird' in English, so that's a good starting point. But I'm not sure I want to be called Blackbird. It doesn't sound quite right."

Her friend paused, then gestured to her necklace. "What about that? Don't you have the emblem of a bird on that medallion?"

"Not just any bird," she corrected. "A canary. Ollie gave it to me before I went on the Gambit. It's something of a joke in my family — my parents got my little sister a pet canary for her birthday but we ended up getting rid of it because it wouldn't stop waking us up with all its screeching."

"Sounds familiar," the vigilante noted, gesturing to his throat.

That… was a good point. Laurel did have a superpower now, one that involved screaming at people very loudly and incapacitating them with the sonic energy. And a canary was a bird. She hummed. "Black… Canary. Black Canary." The moment she said it, a smile slowly began forming on her lips. That was it. That was the one.

"Black Canary," Bruce repeated her, sounding the name on his tongue. "It suits you."

Laurel nodded. "This way, I can keep a piece of my friends and family with me." Her smile turned into a grin. "And if I can annoy criminals as much as that bird annoyed my family, then I'll have Gotham cleaned out by the end of the year."

"Now that's the spirit," Dick declared, throwing his arm around her shoulders and giving her a hug. "Welcome to the team, Black Canary."

And thus, Laurel finally becomes who she was always meant to be: the Black Canary. Woohoo!

Of course, I couldn't exactly keep Jason out of this. You all know how much I love him, so I decided to bring him in. Just for the record, his canonical death has been averted entirely thanks to the death of the Joker and Harley. Whether or not he's going to join the Bats this time around, well, I'll keep that a secret for now.

As for the Calculator, that's something that's borrowed from the original notes Arlyss and I made. I will say this, though — the Calculator's appearance in Gotham is a direct result of the changes that came from Laurel being on the Gambit instead of Oliver and Sara. Because of Laurel's intervention, there was significantly less casualties to Gotham than there were in canon, and the Joker's death made Gotham a much more appealing city to move to. So the Calculator decided to take advantage of that to fatten up his pockets a bit.

Also, some Green Lantern shout-outs with Guy Gardener and Kyle Rayner. They, along with Hal Jordan and John Stewart (not John Diggle) are indeed Green Lanterns in this, but obviously they're not public heroes and most of their work is delegated to space. In addition, they're not playing any major part in the story — I don't intend to go beyond S3 so there's no need to involve GLs for this story.

As for Sara and Alex, there's some bonding there. Sara's growing relationship with Alex is a major part of her storyline here. I'll explain more later on, but you'll see.

Next Chapter: Laurel has her first patrol.