#7 – Cuts Both Ways

Cassandra heard voices echoing down the hall as she sat on her bed reading a book. She tried to ignore the sounds, but she just couldn’t – and it was preventing her from concentrating.

She slid off of the bed and snuck over to the door silently in her socks to find out what was going on. She recognized Bruce’s voice – and heard her own name mentioned – but she couldn’t seem to make out much more then that besides the fact that she heard one man’s and one woman’s voice.

As soon as she reached the door, she could hear footsteps approaching. She raced back to the bed, deciding that she was going to pretend to be reading again. Only when she reached the bed, she discovered that she misplaced the book somehow – she couldn’t find it anywhere.

A loud knock at the door started her heart racing, as she wondered who the other two people she heard were – and why they were talking about her.

“Cassandra, open up…I have a couple of people here who need to talk to you.” It was Bruce. She wasn’t sure if she should trust the other two people with him, but she knew she could trust him.

She was suddenly aware of the sound of her jeans rubbing against the comforter as she slid off the edge of the bed. It seemed like an eternity had passed before she reached the door and opened it slowly.

“Cassandra, this is Commissioner Gordon, and Detective Renee Montoya.”

She approached the door slowly as she watched Renee’s hand move into the light – it was holding a pair of handcuffs.

Renee took a step toward her. “Cassandra…Don’t make this more difficult then it needs to be.”

“Noo!” As soon as Renee grabbed Cassandra’s arm, she started struggling – but she was quickly overwhelmed. She found herself face down on the floor, with her wrists cuffed together. She looked at Bruce sadly as Renee pulled her back to her feet.

“I’m sorry, Cassandra. It’s for your own good.”

Cassandra began crying softly as Renee loaded her into the police van. She trusted Bruce. But now she was…alone.

“Cassandra? Are you okay?”

As Cassandra opened her eyes to the darkness of her room, she could hear someone knocking softly on the door. She wiped away the tears from her eyes as she realized that what had happened to her was only a dream. She couldn’t quite place the voice she heard in her groggy state – but she imagined it had to be either Bruce or Alfred.

The door opened slowly, revealing not Bruce, or Alfred – but Tim Drake. Cassandra sat up and curled her legs under her chin as she stared at him.

“You were crying, Cassandra. What’s wrong?”

Cassandra just stared at Tim as he closed the door, pulled a chair from the corner and sat down.

“Come on, you can talk to me. What’s with the silent act, anyway? Why is it that you never say anything?”

Cassandra sniffed once and sighed. “No one listens.”

“I always listen. It’s my curse, Cass.”

Tim suddenly felt a pencil from Cassandra’s nightstand hit him on the side of the head.

“Ow!” He rubbed his head as he smiled at Cassandra. “Don’t like being called Cass, huh? How about Cissie? I know someone with that name–”

He ducked as the next pencil flew just over his head. “Okay, okay. Cassandra it is.”

Cassandra pointed at the door. “Out.”

Tim stood up and pushed the chair back to where he found it. “Fine, I’ll go Cassandra. Forgive me for trying to reach out to you. For some reason, I thought there was someone in there who just needed…a friend.”

As Tim turned to leave, Cassandra slid off of the bed quickly. She tapped his shoulder just as he was about to open the door. As he turned around, she hugged him tightly – catching him completely off-guard.

“Thank you, Tim.”

Tim quietly nodded and closed the door as he left the room. He was still in shock – he didn’t know what to say. Was Cassandra trying to reach out to him too? Was he right…did she really need a friend?

Just before he walked away from Cassandra’s door, he could hear more distant sniffling. He imagined that she was crying again, because she was lonely.

Tim shook his head slowly as he walked away. “I am too, Cassandra. I am too.”

Cassandra heard voices echoing down the hall as she sat on her bed reading a book. She tried to ignore the sounds, but she just couldn’t – and it was preventing her from concentrating.

A loud knock at the door started her heart racing, as she wondered who the other two people she heard were – and why they were talking about her.

“Cassandra, open up…I have a couple of people here who need to talk to you.” It was Bruce. She wasn’t sure if she should trust the other two people with him, but she knew she could trust him.

“Cassandra, this is Commissioner Gordon, and Detective Renee Montoya.”

She approached the door slowly as she watched Renee’s hand move into the light – it was holding a pair of handcuffs.

Renee took a step toward her. “Cassandra…Don’t make this more difficult then it needs to be.”

“I’m sorry, Cassandra. It’s for your own good.”

Cassandra began crying softly as Renee loaded her into the police van. She trusted Bruce. But now she was…alone.

“Cassandra? Are you okay?”

The door opened slowly, revealing not Bruce, or Alfred – but Tim Drake. Cassandra sat up and curled her legs under her chin as she stared at him.

“You were crying, Cassandra. What’s wrong?”

Cassandra just stared at Tim as he closed the door, pulled a chair from the corner and sat down.

“Come on, you can talk to me. What’s with the silent act, anyway? Why is it that you never say anything?”

Cassandra sniffed once and sighed. “No one listens.”

“I always listen. It’s my curse, Cass.”

Tim suddenly felt a pencil from Cassandra’s nightstand hit him on the side of the head.

“Ow!” He rubbed his head as he smiled at Cassandra. “Don’t like being called Cass, huh? How about Cissie? I know someone with that name–”

He ducked as the next pencil flew just over his head. “Okay, okay. Cassandra it is.”

Cassandra pointed at the door. “Out.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

Just before he walked away from Cassandra’s door, he could hear more distant sniffling. He imagined that she was crying again, because she was lonely.

Tim shook his head slowly as he walked away. “I am too, Cassandra. I am too.”

Batgirl felt full of energy as she stood high atop the steeply sloped roof of the tall, gothic City Hall building. An icy rain pounded her, wind tearing from behind her, through her hair which came out from under the mask part of her costume. She thought about tying it up before she left the Batcave. Now she regretted not doing so as she brushed a few strands back behind her shoulders.

“You’re supposed to keep the hair inside your costume.”

She glanced up at Batman for a second, and just shrugged in response. Unlike Bruce, she liked a little variety. Bruce was obsessed with uniformity, even making sure the desk in his office was always exactly in the center of the room. She smiled to herself when she noticed that he had even stationed them exactly in the center of the roof’s edge.

After waking Cassandra up in the middle of the night and urging her to ‘dress up’ and head to the Batcave, Bruce explained that he had a tip – that someone was going to plant a bomb in City Hall. Cassandra worried a little bit about where he got these tips – for a crime fighter he seemed to have more connections then most criminals – but she figured that it was his specialty. After all, he did spend more money on fighting crime then most police departments.

So she waited. As the icy rain began soaking through her hair, her leather costume offering her little protection other then keeping the rest of her dry…she waited, with Batman standing over her. A lot of waiting was involved when on ‘night patrol’, it came with the territory. She learned that as long as Batman was willing to wait, there was something worth waiting for.

But in this case, she had a strange feeling that something was wrong, that even Batman was missing something. She knew that he checked to make sure that the tip was more then just a hoax. She believed it was true. But there was something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on…

Batgirl turned around suddenly to face Batman, her eyes wide with both fear and anticipation. She stared for a second as he met her emotion-filled gaze with nothing but a cold, calculated stare. For a moment, she understood why people were so frightened of meeting Batman. Just one look made her question whether he was indeed alive, whether he had a soul.

“Well?” Batman said just one word without breaking his stare. He knew she had something on her mind – he knew how to read body language well.

“It’s already here.” Batgirl’s voice was barely above a whisper, but her words were enough to send chills through both of them. The reason why they had been waiting so long was because the bomb had already been planted before they arrived.

Batman simply nodded, and turned to head down the steep slope of the roof, toward a window below, careful to hook a small cable device around a chimney first. Batgirl simply slid right past him down the slippery tile, and grabbed the stone gutter with her gloved hands just as she was about to fall off of the roof. She then swung and landed on one of the large stone windowsills.

By the time Batman reached the windowsill, Batgirl had already opened the window and was climbing inside. He hoped that she had checked for security systems before entering – but he had faith that she would have thought of it.

“We’ll start in the basement. And no more showing off.”

Batgirl smiled again and followed Batman as he headed toward the stairway through the dark hallways. She was amazed at how well her vision worked when there was so little light. Working at night, every night, was giving her an edge – she could see everything in that hallway, even though it was illuminated only by stray light from street lamps outside. She could even read the notes pinned to a cork billboard on one wall.

She suddenly paused and began staring at the billboard. Something she saw out of the corner of her eye seemed out of place. It was an ad for a water cooler company – very strange, since she could see a water cooler sitting only a few feet from her…and the big plastic bottle on top was full!

Batman stopped walking as soon as he noticed that Batgirl had paused to read the billboard. He followed her gaze over to the water cooler, noticing about the same time she did that it wasn’t plugged in.

Batgirl walked over to the water cooler slowly, and began examining it to see if there was a way to open it safely. If it was a bomb, it was well-designed. The only entrance into the device was through the top, which was weighted down by the full water bottle. No doubt, removing the bottle to gain access would cause the device to go off. She then noticed that the water bottle had no logo in it…and it smelled strange, a little like airplane glue.

“This liquid is designed to explode with the device, severely burning anyone close by.” Batman pointed at the bottle, careful not to jar it. “I’ve seen a device like this before.”

Batgirl nodded and took a few steps back to give Batman room to work.

“No…I need your help.” Batman motioned for Batgirl to come closer. “We need to turn the entire device upside down, without allowing the bottle to detach, and disarm this device. We can’t spill a drop, this is an acid. Now, if we each stand on opposite sides–”

Batman cringed as he heard a loud ‘crunch’ of plastic being shattered. He looked around to the other side of the water cooler – Batgirl was holding a small pack of strapped together nine volt batteries and a bundle of wires in her hand. There was now a small hole about the size of her fist in the plastic case of the water cooler.

He stared at Cassandra without even cracking a smile. “We still have to get this out of here without spilling any of this liquid. Go down to the street, I’ll lower it to you.”

Batgirl nodded and slid open the closest window. She quickly hooked a cable launcher to the windowsill and dropped straight down, using the launcher’s internal resistance to slow her. As soon as her boots touched the ground, she yanked hard on the cable, causing the claw at the other end to detach, and the device to retract.

She stood in the alley below, watching the window, and keeping her ears open as more icy rain and wind pounded her again. It wasn’t any more welcome on the ground then it was on the roof. She turned suddenly as she heard nearly silent footsteps approaching from the street. It was a woman, about thirty years old, carrying a flashlight. Most likely she saw movement around city hall and decided to check it out. Batgirl simply waved at her – she figured the woman would recognize her and leave her alone.

“It’s the murderer! Get her!”

Shock filled Batgirl’s mind as she began to hear footsteps approaching her quickly from all around. People yelling, shotguns being loaded, and at least two large dogs. She tore the cable launcher from her belt again and fired at the stone gutter around City Hall, reeling herself to safety in seconds. She glanced off the edge of the roof to see a large crowd gathering in the streets, some of them armed.

“She’s up there!”

Batgirl ducked just in time for a barrage of bullets to begin tearing the stone gutter to pieces. She decided that it was time to get far away from that place as quickly as possible. She hoped Batman would be safe as well.

She heard the gunfire stop suddenly, and looked over the edge of the roof just in time to see the water cooler falling from the window toward the pavement below. It exploded in a ball of fire as soon as it hit the ground, causing the people below to scatter and run away. She could then see Batman leap out of the window, through the middle of the fireball. She pulled her cable launcher out again and followed Batman quickly.

Batman was completely silent for the entire trip back to the Batcave. Batgirl expected him to say something, to tell her what she did wrong. But he just stared through the windshield, barely acknowledging her presence. She knew he was doing so on purpose, that he could plainly see her staring at him waiting for a response.

Batgirl sighed and leaned back in the Batmobile’s seat and closed her eyes. If Batman wasn’t going to talk to her, she was going to catch up on some sleep.

“Well, well. If it isn’t short, dark, and silent.”

Cassandra only looked for a moment at the guy who said that and his two brainless sidekicks, before trying to walk around him. She hated high school enough without having to deal with bullies as well.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The guy snatched her arm suddenly, twisting it back just enough so it hurt her. “You’ve been avoiding me for the last three days. You owe me three day’s worth of cash.”

She tried to shove him away gently, only to be met by more arm twisting, more pain. She turned away as his face moved closer – his breath smelled like old socks.

“You can either pay…or you can spend the day stuffed into this locker. Which is it going to be?”

Cassandra suddenly grabbed the guy by his throat with her free arm, slamming his forehead into the edge of an open locker door. She smiled a little as she noticed that his head was now bleeding – he noticed it at the same time, and slowly let go of her arm. She took advantage of that moment, and slammed the locker door shut on the guy’s hand.

As his screams filled the hallways, and heavy footsteps approached – those owned by teachers, principles, and security guards in the school – Cassandra stepped away from a deep red pool of blood forming on the floor. The bully was now laying on the floor, clutching his bleeding hand. Two of his fingers were lying four feet away on the polished linoleum, sitting in small pools of blood as well.

She stood frozen as she watched two men in suits and another with a whistle around his neck approaching quickly – one math teacher, one assistant principal, and one physical education teacher carrying ice and bandages. As they approached, she began to realize that they would want her to pay a big penalty for this somehow. Her imagination began running, as she pictured the local police handcuffing her and taking her away to jail.

She closed her eyes for a second before racing for the emergency exit, the teacher and assistant principal yelling after her. She kept running – not knowing where to stop, where she would be safe. She knew she did the right thing…only perhaps the wrong way.

As soon as she thought she was far enough from the school, she ducked into a small pool hall located nearby, heading straight for the restroom. She locked herself inside one of the cubicles to stare at her hands. For some reason, since she left the school she imagined them to be covered in blood. But her hands, as well as her clothing, were perfectly clean. Too perfect. Hurting people was just…too perfect.

A woman crying in the restroom of that pool hall was not all that unusual, which is why no one came to ask if everything was okay during the entire hour she spent curled up inside that cubicle, sobbing. That’s when she realized the reason why. No one cared.

Cassandra woke up in the passenger seat of the Batmobile as it sat in the Batcave with the canopy open. She was still in her leather costume – except her mask had been removed and placed in the center of the driver’s seat. In her lap, someone had dropped a newspaper.

She lifted the paper up with her gloved hands to read the headline – ‘Bat-girl terror at City Hall’. The article went on to describe an explosion, multiple assaults – all bogus witness accounts. It then mentioned a seventeen year old kid killed by her in a gang fight days earlier. The article quoted his mother as saying, ‘He was such a good boy’. She began to frown as she read the next sentence – ‘Police are still searching for the Bat-girl’.

Cassandra’s heart began to sink as she walked through the Batcave slowly, newspaper still in hand. The public who once loved her…now wanted her dead? And why didn’t Bruce tell her? It was irresponsible of him not to. She could have been killed, had that woman last night been armed as well as some of the other people in that mob.

“Are you beginning to understand why we must hide from the public?”

Bruce didn’t even turn around from his computer terminal when he said that. It was as if he didn’t seem to care how she felt, he only cared about making his point, teaching his lessons. Just when she thought he had an inkling of human compassion, he proved himself once again to be as cold, unforgiving, and uncaring as the villains he fought. She knew he put that newspaper in her lap to try and hurt and humble her, to take her down a notch or two. He was so insensitive–

“Do you understand now, Cassandra?”

Cassandra stormed over to Bruce, just as he began turning around slowly. She noted the look of surprise on his face, of shock as she was suddenly standing over him, on her face a look of anger he could not possibly comprehend.

A second later, Bruce was on the floor holding his hand over his nose. Cassandra caught him off guard with a hard punch to the face. He was now looking up at her from the ground, his face echoing defiance to cover his hurt pride. She pointed a gloved finger inches away from his face.

“Don’t…talk down to me!”

Bruce stared at Cassandra as she made her way across the cave, toward the entrance to the house. He sat on the floor for a moment longer before deciding to pull himself to his feet. As he did, he looked up to see Alfred offering him a tissue.

“I fear you have met your match, Master Bruce.”

Bruce laughed a little and shook his head as he took the tissue from Alfred’s hand. “First Barbara, and now her. Why can’t I just pick a Batgirl who’s a little less independent?”

“Master Bruce.” Alfred placed the box of tissues he brought with him on the counter next to Bruce’s terminal. “I see Cassandra’s independence as an asset. It gives her potential to become even better then you are at what you do.”

“Is that a good thing?” Bruce sat down in his chair and turned to face Alfred. “Do I want someone like Cassandra watching my back?”

“That depends, Master Bruce.” Alfred picked up a leftover tray and the tissue box and began heading toward the entrance to the house. “Personally…I’m happy Cassandra is looking after you. It’s a little more assurance that you will come back alive each night.”

“She’s my bodyguard now?”

Alfred stopped walking and smiled as he shook his head slowly. “She is your equal, Master Bruce. A partnership of equals is most rewarding.”

“Equals.” As Alfred left the room, Bruce shook his head. Could Alfred be right? Did Cassandra expect to be treated as an equal? He sighed as he stood up and headed into the house. Bruce hated having to apologize…but this time he felt he needed to.

“I hear that you hit Bruce.”

Cassandra looked up and frowned as Tim entered her room. He didn’t even bother knocking this time. She put down her book and slid toward the edge of the bed quickly, her eyes on Tim as he moved toward her. She met him a couple of feet from the foot of the bed, standing with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking up at Tim.

“Listen, Cassandra…I know he can grate on your nerves, but you can’t hit him. The man holds grudges.” Tim walked around Cassandra and sat on the edge of a the vanity table in the room. “He’ll get revenge somehow. Send you on some humbling mission, or leave you behind when you want to go.”

Cassandra sighed and looked down at the floor for a second before staring at Tim again. She didn’t care what Bruce did to retaliate – she knew he would, and she was prepared.

“Look, Cassandra–” Tim turned his head slightly toward the doorway. He heard someone approaching. Cassandra did as well. “Just don’t get on his bad side, okay?”

Cassandra nodded silently as she watched Bruce push the door to her room open wide. He was wearing most of the Batman costume, with the exception of the mask.

“Tim, go change. You too, Cassandra. We have work to do.”

Cassandra nodded and headed toward her closet to pull out her costume as Bruce and Tim left silently, closing the door behind them. Work to do? Work that required all three of them? And why was Bruce being so secretive? Usually he would try to clue her in on a mission before she even changed. Her heart began speeding up a little – if Bruce was trying to hurry them, it could mean that it was an emergency…or that it was a test.

She was smiling as she put on her black leather gloves, and stopped to grab her mask, belt, and a backpack filled with her civilian clothing – something told her she would need them as well. If it was a test, then maybe Tim was right. Maybe they were going on a mission intended to humble her. But why would that take all three of them? Something just didn’t make sense.

“Let’s go.”

Those were the only words said by Batman before the three of them race out toward Gotham City in the Batmobile. Not a word was spoken the entire trip – and it scared Cassandra a little bit. No information, no clues. It was a trip into the unknown.

“Isn’t this Shreck’s office tower?”

Batman looked at Robin for a second, but didn’t answer the rather obvious question. “We’re here to get two items. One is a a file stolen from my office.”

“And the other item?” Robin looked at the cramped window seat to see Cassandra quietly reading a book she brought along. Her mask sat on the dashboard in front of her.

“You’ll know it when you see it.” Bruce suddenly hit the button to open the canopy, hoping to surprise Cassandra – but she was already wearing her mask and climbing out of the car by the time he looked up.

Robin folded his arms. He was getting a little annoyed by Batman’s cryptic phrasing. “So…What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan.” Batman looked at Cassandra, as his arm pointed at a lighted office high atop the gothic thirty floor tall tower. “Which is where you excel, Batgirl. You will retrieve the second item from Shreck’s office. The two of us will retrieve the stolen file from the high-security basement storage facility.”

Batgirl nodded as Batman shifted his gaze to Robin. The two then just took off for one of the side entrances. She stood for a moment, looking up at the tower. She knew she couldn’t gain entrance from up there, the glass windows were sealed, and no doubt protected by alarms. And the roof was simply too high for a cable launcher to reach. She smiled at herself again – this was most definitely a test.

Climbing back into the Batmobile and hitting the button to close the canopy was the cover she needed for the first part of her plan. She pulled her backpack out from behind the passenger seat, and quickly removed her cape. She decided she would slip her jeans and shirt over part of her costume, while her cape, mask, and belt would be stowed safely in the backpack. She would walk right past security, through the lobby.

“Sorry…you can’t get in if you’re not on the list.”

It was a perfectly formulated plan, all right – until Cassandra encountered an old security guard sitting at a small desk in the center of the lobby. A ‘closet dictator’ – someone who had no power in life, and insisted on making those around him feel just as powerless.

Luckily, he was just as slow as he looked – she easily made it to the elevator before he even got out of his seat. All he could do was yell ‘stop!’. But she paid him no mind, even when he added, ‘Oh…not again’. Though she did wonder what he meant by ‘again’.

Cassandra counted herself lucky as she noticed that the camera in the elevator had already been broken. It dangled from the celling by a single wire. She swapped the cape, belt, and mask in her backpack for her civilian clothing once more as the elevator headed up to the thirtieth floor.

As the elevator doors opened, stillness prevailed. Though all the lights on the overdecorated ‘executive’ floor were on, Batgirl could hear nothing more then a rush of air coming from ducts in the ceiling. It was eerily quiet.

She stepped out of the elevator silently, only to be startled by the relatively loud sound of its doors sliding closed. In front of the elevators was a vacant reception desk made of expensive wood, with gold trim to match the gold colored elevator doors and a gold-painted stripe running along the hallway.

“Well. This is certainly…cute.”

Batgirl looked around frantically for the source of the voice – it was coming from above her. She watched as a tall woman in a leather costume slide down from an open ceiling tile, landing on the carpeted hallway floor only a short distance away. Batgirl vaguely recognized the woman as she unwrapped a leather whip from around her waist.

“What’s the matter…Never seen a full-grown woman with a whip walk around in a cat costume?”

The woman walked a little closer. She seemed so confident, but she also was careful to keep her distance. Batgirl’s first instinct was to prepare for a fight – but something deep inside her mind told her that this woman wasn’t a threat. She just wanted to…talk?

“I’m known as Catwoman, but my friends call me…Wait, I don’t have any friends.” The woman laughed momentarily in spite of herself, and then set a steady gaze on Batgirl as her expression turned serious. “Batty sent you here to get the prototype, didn’t he? At least he sent a woman to do the job. Good for him.”

Prototype? Batgirl’s facial expression unconsciously changed as confusion set in. Why did Bruce send her to take a prototype?

“Confused?” She laughed again as she began wrapping the end of whip she carried around her fingers and pacing back and forth. “Look…I know who you are. And I know what kind of trouble you’ve been in. I know…because I was the same way.”

Batgirl didn’t move a muscle as her eyes followed Catwoman back and forth. She knew that Catwoman was trying to manipulate her. But somehow, deep down, she felt that maybe Catwoman was right. Given slightly different circumstances, she could have been just like Catwoman. Batgirl knew that she wasn’t a threat…and yet she couldn’t bring herself to trust Catwoman either.

“Follow me. I know where the prototype is.” Catwoman smiled warmly as she started walking backwards down the hall, beckoning Batgirl with her index finger. “You can trust me. I might scratch, but I won’t bite.”

Strange as it was, Batgirl somehow found herself following Catwoman down the hallway silently. The two of them were a stark contrast. Batgirl snuck down the hall slowly, walking silently, alert, very focused. Catwoman zipped down the hall quickly, humming to herself and stopping once in a while, using her whip to knock expensive artwork hanging on the wall to the floor with a loud crash. She seemed to be enjoying herself, while Batgirl was there strictly on business.

Batgirl couldn’t help but secretly wonder if she should take a page from Catwoman’s book, to act more like her. After all, Batman always seemed to be so sullen, almost totally emotionless. It’s not how she wanted to be. Then again, Catwoman seemed to be at the exact opposite of the spectrum – emotional almost to the point of being frivolous. Then again, she had known Bruce for months…while she only met Catwoman a few minutes ago.

A smile began to creep onto Batgirl’s face as she watched Catwoman work. She was having so much fun…and yet she seemed to be just as efficient as Batman. Catwoman had gained entry to the building just as easily as Batgirl did – she was probably the one who broke the elevator camera – and still hadn’t been caught. And yet, she made no effort to be silent or stealthy. It was Catwoman’s confidence that intrigued Batgirl – almost as if Catwoman believed herself to be invincible.

“Umm…do you do locks, Batgirl?” Catwoman pointed at a solid wood door with a small keypad on the wall next to it. That was the one thing that separated Batgirl from Catwoman – the fact that Catwoman wasn’t as well equipped. Still, Batgirl had to admire the fact that Catwoman tried, even though she was almost always out-gunned and out-supplied.

Batgirl smiled at Catwoman before crashing through the wooden door, feet first. That was her specialty, and she wouldn’t pass on the chance to impress Catwoman for once. As soon as she entered, she guessed that the huge, decorative room must be Shreck’s office. A large glass and wood desk dominated the room, and green glass tables were scattered throughout, displaying various models of upcoming projects.

“Nice entrance. You do think a little like me.” Catwoman laughed out loud before following Batgirl into the room. She immediately headed to one of the tables, and picked up a plain white plastic box. “Ah, the prototype. You want it?”

Batgirl smiled and nodded as Catwoman handed her the box. She then watched Catwoman walk over to the desk, and reach into one of the drawers quickly. She wondered what Catwoman was looking for…but decided not to ask.

“Gotta go, Batgirl.” Catwoman gave Batgirl a half-salute as she began quickly walking backwards toward the door they used to enter earlier. “Say hi to Batty for me. And just remember…you have a lot to learn.”

A lot to learn. As Batgirl watched Catwoman vanish into the hallway, a chill ran down her spine. She stared at the small white box for a moment. Instinct told her exactly what was in that box before she even opened it – and as she did, slowly…her worst fears were confirmed. It was empty. Catwoman just took the prototype right out from under her nose, and even tricked Batgirl into helping her, too.

Batgirl was angry. She raced out into the hallway and toward the elevator and stairs to try and confront Catwoman. It was no use…she was long gone. Not only that, but Catwoman even managed to trip an alarm on the way out. It was time to evacuate. She headed to the stairs and used a cable launcher to descend quickly.

Bruce would be so disappointed. That’s all Batgirl could think about as she walked out of the building’s suddenly empty lobby with her head hanging. She slowly walked over to the Batmobile – she knew Batman would be in there waiting for her.

“Did you get it?”

Those were the only words spoken by Batman as Cassandra climbed into the passenger side. She turned away from him as she tossed the small white plastic cube into Robin’s lap. She heard a deep sigh from Batman as she leaned her head against the sloped glass of the canopy, tears of shame and humiliation welling up in her eyes.

“I see you met Catwoman.”

Batgirl didn’t even answer. She didn’t have to…he knew. She could tell that he also knew how she felt about her first meeting with Catwoman as well – not another word was spoken all the way back home.

That night, Cassandra dreamed. She dreamed of a being a normal daughter, in a ‘normal’ family. It wasn’t a wish, more like an experience she would have liked to have had. It seemed so serene, and yet so…static. It made her feel happy, for once, to be who she was – someone who was so…alive.

Humiliation was a part of life, as it was for many other people – it was ‘normal’. But she had one thing most ‘normal’ people didn’t have – she was Batgirl…and she wouldn’t trade that for anything.