DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the characters of Birds of Prey. No copyright infringement is intended.

REUNION

With the wind blowing through my hair and the low rumble of her between my legs combine to give me a feeling I've never felt before - freedom.

I don't really have a destination, just feel like being anywhere but the Clocktower right now. Guess I'm just in one of my moods because I feel like that place suffocates me sometimes.

Hours pass and I'm still driving. I got so lost in my own thoughts I lost track of time, not that that's a bad thing.

It was obvious that I was far away from New Gotham because I could actually see grass on the side of the road.

Up ahead, the sun began to rise and I decided it would be cool to watch so I pulled over and turned off the bike. Easing back in the seat, I watched the giant orange ball slowly rise into the air. Night soon turned into day, illuminating the world around me.

As I reached for the key to start the bike, I heard a car pull up along side me. It was a beat-up van that looked like something out of a stoner movie.

"Hey, you need some help?" a young guy asked me from the passenger side.

"No thanks. Just stopped for a minute."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," I said as I started up the bike. "Thanks."

I pulled out into the road, heading back towards New Gotham. I was running low on gas and God only knows where the next gas station is around here.

When I got back into the city I fueled up and drove to my apartment to grab a quick nap and a shower, both of which revitalized me.

As I headed back out, the phone started ringing and I completely ignored it, feeling good as I did so. It was probably Barbara calling to ask where I am and then a thirty-minute lecture on whatever topic pops into her head. I'm so tired of that shit.

I drive off into the heart of the city and pass by Gibson's store. He spots me and waves me over. I sigh heavily, but pull up by the curb. He is a major pain in the ass but he's helped me out of a good share of jams so I guess the least I could do is talk to him for a few minutes. Besides, it'll give me a chance to brag about the bike again.

"Helena, what have we got here?" he says as he looks over my bike.

"Isn't she a beauty. Got her about a week ago." I turn off the engine and lean back in the seat, admiring the bike's style.

"That's some bike," he says. He knows nothing about bikes, he's too nerdy. Computers yes, books yes, bikes no. "Hey!" he exclaims as if a light bulb just lit up above his head. "I have the perfect thing for it!"

He runs back into the store and soon comes out with a small pair of pink fuzzy dice. He hands them to me with a big grin on his face. "Got them out of one of those crane thingies at the arcade last week."

I take them from him and offer a small smile. "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome." He smiles and nervously digs his hands in his pockets.

"I better head back out, I'll see you later."

"Be careful out there."

I put my helmet on and start up the bike. I really don't like wearing a helmet because it restricts my view of the world, but I guess I don't want to have my brains splattered all over the pavement like apple sauce if I were to fall off.

As I pull away from the curb and ride down the street I notice the van that stopped along the road yesterday. It's parked in front of a set of stores and doesn't look like anyone's in it. It sticks out like a sore thumb even in this section of town.

####

I find myself in the same place as the day before - on the roadside watching the sun rise.

I've watched the sun rise before, from the Clocktower, but the fact that there are no skyscrapers in the way right now makes it cooler.

When the sun finally sits high in the sky, I continue my ride, this time heading away from New Gotham. I'm sure Barbara.... I feel around my throat and then my ears and realize I left my comm set at my apartment. Oh well. I'm certainly NOT going back for them. This is my freedom.

I continue riding down the deserted stretch of road, taking in the sight of miles and miles of nothing when I suddenly feel a presence behind me.

Looking in my mirror I can see that old van coming up the road. I can hear their engine rev up as the driver stomps on the gas in order to pass me.

As they come up along my left side, the guy in the passenger seat gives me a wave and then a mock kiss. Now I'm officially grossed out so I return his gesture with a flash of my middle finger.

They pull in front of me and start to speed up. A puff of white smoke bellows out of the tailpipe as the tired exhaust system tries to keep up with the driver's lead foot.

I'm tempted to pass them but I don't want to push it. I'm still breaking the bike in and I don't want to go wrecking the engine.

The back door of the van opens up and I can sense that something's not right.

"Fuck." I say to myself as I try to figure out what to do. Being on a bike doesn't afford much in the way of protection.

They don't give me much time to think things over because a couple of shots were fired towards me. The next thing I know I slammed to the ground, skidding along the pavement and tumbling along with the bike. All I feel is pain before everything turns black.

####

I'm awake again, barely it seems.

I hate that, when you're knocked unconscious and wake up not knowing what the hell happened in between that time.

"She's awake," a male voice says near me.

It takes me a moment for me to become aware of what's going on, but it's the nagging pain all over my body that grabs my attention first.

I'm lying on the most uncomfortable bed ever constructed and it's not helping that my arms are over my head and handcuffed to it's frame.

As I become more alert, I begin to check myself for injury. My right shoulder feels like it's on fire and the slightest movement makes me feel like I'm being stabbed over and over. I think it's safe to say that it's dislocated because I think that's the first thing that hit the ground.

I can't tell what's blood and what's sweat as I feel liquid dripping down my face. I can taste blood and I'm sure there's some sort of gash on the side of my head judging by the throbbing, burning sensation. I guess it ended up being a good thing that I had a helmet on because it could be alot worse.

My ribs are definitely bruised to shit but not broken. Hurts like hell, that's for sure, and breathing isn't the easiest thing to do right now.

Then there's my leg. My leg is what feels worst of all. Looking down, I can see that my leather pants are ripped by my knee and there's a lot of blood seeping out, staining the mattress and splashing onto the floor. My knee feels like it's about to explode, there's so much pressure underneath my knee cap. I've got a nasty case of road rash and the only thing I can compare my leg to is ground up hamburger. I know, not a good visual.

I remember them shooting at me. I don't think any of the bullets hit me. I'd certainly know it if they had.

"Ah, sweet little Helena Kyle," a man says to me as he walks into the room, waving to the two other men to leave.

"Who the fuck are you?" I say with a sneer. I'm in pain, irritated and being held against my will so I'm certainly not going to be polite.

"Ouch," he says with a mocking cringe. "You're certainly not like your father, are you? You've got a little spark to you. I almost admire it."

"So that's what this is about. My father."

"Indeed. You see, my dear, your father owes me and he owes me big. Years ago he and I started a business down on the south side of town, the old iron works. He agreed to take care of some of the finances and I agreed to split the profits with him. The only problem is, your father disappeared and I haven't seen a penny. I tried to continue the business but I was forced to shut down the factory due to the rising tax costs of the city. I lost millions!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he spewed forth his rage.

"I've got bad news for you, I don't know where my father is anymore than you do."

He shrugged. "No matter. I've done my homework on you and I'm betting that your friend Barbara Gordon knows exactly where to find him."

I have to admit that I was a little shocked that he knew Barbara and I had contact. "She's not going to give any information to a lunatic that..." Ya know, I should learn to shut my trap because that one cost me a punch to the gut.

He whipped out a cellphone and stuck it in my face. "What's the number?"

My focus was on the pain and trying to be able to breathe again, not on the stupid phone number.

"What is it?!?" he asked again, balling up his fist.

"Uncuff me and I'll dial it."

"Don't play games with me! Give me the fuckin' number!"

I stayed silent and it really pissed him off.

"Fine, have it your way." He stormed out of the room and soon returned with a large, muscular bald man. "Get the number from her no matter what it takes, but don't kill her, I need her."

"You got it, boss."

The man left the room, leaving me alone with the muscle-bound dufuss who was going to take great pleasure in working me over.

I think it's safe to say that I'm officially screwed.

####

I can hear his voice again as I slowly come to.

"It's for you," he says as he stands over me, holding the phone out.

I'm no longer handcuffed to the bed. In fact, I'm not even on the bed I'm on the floor in a heap of pain and blood.

He kicks me in my bad leg. "Wake up!" he shouts as he shoves the phone next to my ear.

I can hear Barbara calling to me through the phone. The sound of her voice makes me more alert. "B...Barbara," I slur into the phone.

"Helena, are you alright?"

I take somewhat of a deep breath and shut my eyes. "No," I whisper softly in a pain-filled voice.

She didn't answer right away because I think my answer got to her. "Where are you?"

"Don't know," I slurred. I swallowed hard and shut my eyes against the wave of pain that grabbed hold of me. "I'm sorry I gave him the...the number. I...I couldn't take it..."

"Put him back on the phone."

I could tell she was pissed off because of the stern tone in her voice.

I moved my head away from the phone and he put it back to his ear. "I think Helena isn't feeling too well right now. She....NO! YOU listen to me and listen to me good. Bruce Wayne and I have some unfinished business and if he wants to see his daughter live to see her next birthday then I suggest you find him and have him meet me at the old iron factory where this whole mess started. I'm giving you an hour to reach him." He hung up the phone and looked at me. "You better pray she comes through for you."

He left the room and I felt my body relax in the silence. His goon had done a number on me, clearly one of the worst beatings I've ever received. How pathetic is it that I couldn't even defend myself. I just let him beat me.

I managed to roll over onto my back which was a huge accomplishment given my condition. It was a little easier to breathe this way, plus I didn't have to look at all of my blood on the floor.

I'm not sure how much time had elapsed, but the door to my room slowly opened and a young boy slipped in. He looked to be around Dinah's age.

I readied myself for a fight but his movements indicated that he didn't come to go a few rounds with me.

"It's okay," he whispered, "I want to help you." He set a small duffle bag on the floor and unzipped it.

"Who..."

"He's my father," he answered as he took out some towels, bandages and other medical supplies.

"He'll probably kill you if he catches you in here."

"I don't care. I don't agree with his ways of doing business. He's always made it a habit of pushing people around, including me."

"Ow!" I gasped in a hiss as he applied antiseptic to the cuts on my face.

"Shhh! My father's men will be back soon."

He cleaned me up as best as he could and it made me feel a little better.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Jason?!?" his father yelled as he entered the room.

Jason quickly stood up to face his father. "You can't do this! You can't go around beating on people every time something doesn't go your way! Especially not a woman! She..."

WHACK!!

His father punch him hard in the face, knocking him down beside me.

"Don't you EVER talk to me like that again!"

"She needs a doctor," Jason said as he held his swelling eye.

"Charlie! Get in here and drag her out to the van."

Two of his goons came into the room and roughly grabbed onto me, yanking me up. I couldn't help but yelp out in pain as my injuries were abused by the sudden movement.

"Don't do this!" Jason yelled.

"ENOUGH from you! Go with Charlie. You can ride in the back with her while I decide what to do with you. Now GO!"

They threw me into the back of an empty van and I immediately curled up into a ball, desperately trying to stem the pain.

Jason climbed in after me just as they shut the doors.

"You okay?"

I shook my head because I was far from being okay.

####

The ride to the factory seemed to only take a few minutes, but that's probably because I passed out at some point along the way.

They brought me into a room where I was surprised to see Barbara already waiting. I heard her gasp as I was pushed down onto the floor and she started to come towards me.

"Uh uh. Don't move," the man told her.

I heard the click of a gun cocking and swallowed down the nausea that came over me. I was in no shape to even attempt at defending my own life. And if there's one thing I hate, it's being unable to do something.

"Where is he?"

"He'll be here," Barbara said.

"He'll kick your ass all over this place," I said in a barely audible voice. It was definitely a feeble attempt at being tough.

"Oh please! Bruce Wayne couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. He's a millionaire not a prize fighter."

"Don't be so sure," I said as I groaned and rolled onto my side, locking eyes with Barbara from across the room.

I must look like shit because Barbara's nervous movements and facial expression speak volumes.

The man looked at his watch. "He's late. Maybe daddy doesn't care about his little girl after all."

"I wouldn't say that," a voice said from the shadows.

"Bruce?" the man called out.

Out of nowhere, Batman flew into the man and knocked him to the ground. His gun skidded across the floor and out of his reach.

"Bruce sent me to give you a message," Batman said as he grabbed the man, hauling him up and tossing him across the room like a rag doll.

Dinah rushed in and came to my aid.

"Where were you?" I asked.

"Taking care of Bonny and Clyde out front," she said, proud of herself. "It was too easy playing with their little minds."

"Where's the kid? Where's Jason?" I panted as I tried to get up.

"Don't. Don't move. He's fine."

Batman picked the man up again and punched him over and over. Blood spattered all over the floor and all over his costume.

Barbara quickly wheeled over to him. "Stop it! You'll kill him."

"You saw what he did to her," Batman said as he continued punching the already bloody and unconscious jerk.

"Stop!!" she said as she reached out and pulled at his punching arm.

He stopped a punch mid-launch and let the guy drop to the ground. Then he turned around and started walking towards me.

He knelt down beside me and took off his cowl. "Helena?"

I tried to focus through the pain and managed to give him a smile. But that was all I could do before I passed out again.

####

My body can sense that something's different, I don't even have to have my eyes open to know that.

When I do open my eyes it confirms what I suspected...I'm not at the Clocktower, I'm not in my apartment and I'm certainly not in the hospital. I have a guess as to where I am but I can't be sure until I have a look around.

It takes me a while to sit up, but I finally manage to do so.

My knee is bandaged up and bound tightly by one of those black, hinged knee braces. Looks like I managed to hack it up pretty good.

I didn't think Barbara would make it easy for me, so I don't see a pair of crutches anywhere around. Not that I'd really be able to use them since my right arm is in a sling. No problem. I'm just going to get out of this bed and hobble out into the hallway just like....."OW! OW! OW!" I yelp as the flash of pain jabs me right in the knee from just the slightest bit of pressure I put on that leg. I lean on the bed for a moment as the pain subsides and I keep an eye on the door, waiting for either Barbara, Dinah or Alfred to come busting on in with a boat-load of reasons why I shouldn't be out of bed.

Taking a deep breath, I try again, but before I get too far, I'm surprised by the sight of the person standing in the doorway...my father.

"Where are you going?" he asks me, not moving from the doorway.

"Um," I stutter. Not sure why I'm at a sudden loss for words. Could be the drugs or could be that I'm not used to him.

"Get back in bed." Still he stood where he was, his arms folded across his muscular chest.

"But..."

"I can call Barbara if you want, she's right downstairs."

Dammit. He doesn't even know me but yet he knows me. How messed up is that? "Fine," I say as I turn back around and sit on the bed. It wasn't that bad getting out but getting back in is proving to be a little more difficult.

He's watching me struggle which is pissing me off, quite frankly. I'm in a buttload of pain and am in no mood to deal with his shit. "Don't just stand there!"

"What? You want me to help you?"

"Seriously, that's the dumbest question ever."

"From what I'm told, you never ask for help because you're perfectly capable of doing things on your own." He walks towards me and I can feel my body tense up. "I can see they're right," he adds.

I clench my teeth as the pain surges through my battered and broken body. "Just say it, Barbara told you."

He chuckles softly as he pulls the covers over me. "Barbara, Alfred, Dinah, the list goes on. You're just like..."

"Don't," I stop him. "Now's not the time." The last thing I want to hear right now are the similarities between my mother and me as told from the eyes of a man who hardly knows me, other than what's he's been told.

"I'm sorry," he says as he lowers his head slightly.

For only a split second do I feel sorry for the man.

He raises his head and looks into my eyes for only a moment before turning around and walking out of the room. Not a word was uttered between us, he just walked away.

I lean back and try to get comfortable, but the thoughts that are now running rampant around my head are distracting me. Closing my eyes isn't helping and neither is trying to steady my breathing. The thoughts are way too powerful.

So I stare off into space and try to organize my thoughts. It's kinda like trying to settle down a room full of screaming children.

I shut my eyes again and figure I'll fall asleep, but I can hear the motor of Barbara's chair coming down the hall towards my room.

Great.

"He said you were up," she says with this pissed off tone in her voice and an equally pissed off look on her face.

"Yeah, looks like you two do alot of talking about me."

"I hope you're happy." She started fiddling with my knee brace, maybe because she had to or maybe because she was hoping she'd cause me some pain, out of spite.

"Happy about?"

She shot me a look, one of her classics. "He left."

"So. OW!!!" I was right, she just wants to fuck with me.

She pulled on the Velcro straps and made the brace tighter. "I can't believe you sometimes."

"He's the one that wants to get all teary-eyed and mushy with me and..."

"He saved your life!" Her bottom lip began to quiver, the way it does when you know that she's extremely emotional.

"We could have..."

"Give me a break! You couldn't even stay awake much less defend yourself."

Okay...that one pissed me off.

"I could have, Barbara! I-I didn't want to..."

"Stop making excuses! You don't have to be so friggin' tough all the time. You were hurt and..."

"And what? Weak? Defeated? Incapable? Should I go on?"

Barbara inhaled deeply and exhaled. "He loves you. He would do anything for you."

"He doesn't even know me!"

"So let him get to know you! You shut him out."

"He just wants to compare me to my mother. I'm NOT my mother I'm ME, dammit!" I could feel my jaw tighten on it's own as I tried to hold back the tears that were begging me to allow them to spill down my face.

"He's just as scared as you are. I don't think he knows what to say around you so he sticks to something familiar, your mother."

The sick part was that I knew she was right. I'd never admit that, of course.

"Give him a chance. Please? It tore him apart to see you hurt. He checked in on you every five minutes. I had to kick him out a few times so that he wouldn't wake you."

I could feel some of her tension melting away and mine was starting to as well. "I guess I'm just cranky because I don't feel so hot."

"You took a good spill on..."

"My bike!" I exclaimed as I bolted upright, ignoring my aching ribs. "Where's my bike?"

"Hey, calm down," she said as she helped ease me back down. "Dinah found it by the side of the road. We sent it out to be fixed."

"Is it bad?"

"Not too bad. Lots of scrapes, like you." Barbara the pointed to my leg. "You did a number on that knee."

"You don't have to tell me, it hurts like hell."

"I would think it would considering you fractured and dislocated your knee cap. It wasn't easy getting it back into place without breaking it."

"Spare me the gory details."

"Well, I'll let you get some rest. Think about what I said, okay?"

I nodded, half out of wanting to pacify her so she'd leave me the hell alone and half because she was right.

As I watched her leave the room I let out a heavy sigh. I'm so not good at letting people in, much less a man I hardly know even though I'm supposed to call him dad.

####

TWO WEEKS LATER

####

My knuckles connect with the wooden door as I knock on it with a little hesitation.

I chew on my bottom lip as I wait for a response.

My stomach begins to stir up the butterflies as I hear the latch being unlocked and the door slowly open. Immediately, my eyes lock onto his.

"Helena," Bruce says with surprise.

"Hi." It's all I could come up with to say as I shoved my hands into the pockets of my duster.

"Come on in," he says as he opens the door wider and steps aside.

I walk into the small apartment, looking around at the humble surroundings. How does a millionaire like my father go from living in a mansion to living in a tiny, closet-sized apartment?

"Have a seat," he says as he clears away the newspaper off the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Soda? Beer?"

"No thanks, I'm fine."

He tossed the newspaper onto the coffee table and sits across from me in a worn chair. Everyone has their favorite seat in the house and that one must be his considering it's seen better days.

I rub my hands together nervously. I can't help it. This is awkward as hell.

"So, what brings you here? I don't get many visitors considering no one knows where I am, besides Barbara, Alfred and Dick."

"I came to apologize."

"For?"

What is it with the company I keep? Everyone claims there isn't a problem when they're talking to you, but behind your back it's as if the world's come to a grinding halt.

"For the way I shut you out when you brought me to the mansion. You saved my life and I wanted to apologize for not acknowledging that." The last few words that came from my mouth were laced with emotion. "Sorry," I said, embarrassed. "I'm not good with apologies."

"No. No. It's okay," he said as he got out of his chair and kneeled down in front of me. "You don't have to apologize, Helena. It was wrong of me to expect that everything is fine and, well, normal between us. That's not fair to you."

"I know you meant well when you compared me to mom, but I'm not her. I guess since helping Barbara take care of the city I've been busy trying to make sure that people know that I'm me and only me, not anyone else, no matter who my parents are."

He reached over and wiped the tears from my cheek. I took his hand but not in order to move it away, just to hold it to let him know that I'm sorry.

"Helena, you have no idea how much I wanted to kill Perkins for hurting you like that. I haven't felt that rage in quite a long time."

"I'm sorry, I..."

"No. It was both good and bad. Bad because I honestly could have killed him if Barbara hadn't stepped in. Good because it kicked me in the ass and re-ignited a fire within me that was extinguished years ago. I mean, look where I'm living. Look at ME! I'm a mess. I haven't shaven in weeks, I hardly leave the apartment, I sit around eat and once in a while get totally plastered just to forget about it all. I can't live this way anymore."

"You shouldn't have to."

He smiled at me and it scared me because I could see our resemblance.

####

I stepped out of the elevator of the Clocktower and found Dinah and Barbara arguing about something.

Walking over towards them, I stopped when I got halfway into the room. "Looks like you two need to take that into the training room."

"She won't let me wear this skirt!" Dinah said as she held it up for me to see.

"I don't even wear skirts that small!"

"See!" Barbara said with a slight smile.

Dinah growled and tore off to her room to either put the skirt away or to put it on. I'm sure we'd see which was the case in a little while.

"How'd your meeting with your father go?"

"Fine," I said as I walked towards her. "He's not so bad after all." I didn't offer any more info. She'll find out soon enough that my father has broken out of his funk.

"Your limp is getting a little better."

"Yeah, another few days I'll be good as new." I paused for a moment because I knew my next question was going to open a can of worms that I didn't want to unleash, but I didn't know where else to start. "Any leads on the guys in the van?" I could feel my body tense up as I waited for Barbara's response.

"Nothing yet. I don't have much to go on. You shouldn't be worrying about that. You need to take it easy and let me and Dinah worry about it."

I knew she was going to say that. God, she's so damn predictable. "Just figured I'd ask." It took everything I had to keep from lashing out at her, but I decided that it would be better to play it cool for once.

As I started to walk away I could feel the wheels in her mind turning at lightning speed.

"Promise me you're not going to do an investigation of your own," she warned.

I turned around and held up my hands. "I'm just going downstairs to get my bike and go for a short ride, that's all."

"You probably shouldn't be riding that bike so soon."

"You worry too much. It's fine. I'm fine." I got into the elevator and watched the doors close in front of me. I wasn't going to promise anything because I hate promises. Promises are like rules and laws, they're broken too often.

I got to the garage and smiled as I saw my bike sitting there. I climbed on and started her up and was hit with a flashback of the crash - slamming down on the pavement, the tumbling and the pain. I shook away the memory and put the kickstand up.

I set out on the road and took it slow. Since the accident wasn't a result of my driving skills, it made me feel a little better about being back on the bike. In fact, the constant flashbacks only fueled my anger and made me want to find those sons-of-bitches so I could castrate each one of them with my bare hands.

####

I drove for hours and it was getting pretty late.

As I drove along the river towards the bridge, I could see some activity underneath the bridge. Transients mostly gathered under there, warming themselves with fire rushing out of empty oil drums while druggies hung out there to get high.

Something told me to pay them a visit and I've learned not to ignore that little voice. It's gotten me out of a few jams.

When I pulled up to the area, I could hear shouting and glass shattering. I parked my bike a good distance from them and got off, walking the remainder of the way.

The shouting got louder and I could see three men engaged in a fist fight. Two of the men were picking on the other man. Not sure what they were fighting over but when I looked around the area that's when I saw it...the van.

I ignored the fight and used it to my advantage. Everyone was so caught up in the fight they didn't see me sneak over to the van.

I climbed in the back and the God-awful smell nearly knocked me out. These guys obviously lived in this hellhole on wheels because it definitely had that lived-in look.

"Looking for something?" I heard a man ask from behind me.

I turned around and saw him aiming a gun at me.

"Yeah, you," I answered sarcastically.

His two friends soon appeared behind him.

"Guess you didn't take a hard enough spill on that bike of yours, bitch."

The other guys laughed at his comment. Funny how I was the only one not laughing.

"You bled like a stuck pig," one of them quipped as he climbed into the van.

Another one got in and stood behind me. "Now that you're feeling better maybe we could go somewhere quiet." The palm of his hand began rubbing my ass.

I chuckled a bit out of anger. "You better move that hand before you lose it."

"OOOOOHHHH! Tough girl!" one of them taunted.

"You have no idea," I said plainly.

####

I walked into the kitchen at the Clocktower and soon felt Barbara coming up behind me. "Let me guess where you were."

I didn't answer her, just dug into the ice bucket and loaded a hand towel full of ice then grabbed a beer before turning around.

Her eyes immediately widened at the sight of my eye which I'm sure looked pretty bad because it felt pretty bad. "Helena!"

I flopped down on the chair and pressed the cool towel to my eye, hissing at the sting.

Her hand turned my face towards her and she hissed as well. "Let's get that cleaned up."

As she cleaned the blood off the side of my face and got the cut to stop bleeding, it was as if our conversation was put on pause because neither of us said a word.

She handed the towel back to me, breaking the silence. "Put that on it for a while then I'll stitch it up."

I took a swig of my beer and applied the towel to my eye.

"That was a nice little gift you left on the steps of New Gotham P.D. Tied up and everything."

I couldn't help but smile. "That was a nice tough, don't you think?"

She shook her head. "I should be mad at you right now, but I'm glad you found them." She laughed a little. "You really beat the shit out of them."

"Payback's a bitch."

"All three are wanted on drug smuggling charges so they won't be around for a while."

"Good," I said, wincing. "I'm gonna sleep here tonight, I'm beat...literally."

"Let me get the suture kit and..."

"No, it's fine," I said as I waved her off.

"You're so damn stubborn."

"I know," I said with a smile as I headed towards my room.

FIN