Endorphins run high after a fight. Her blood sings along with the whistling of the wind through the canyons of steel and stone ( Read more... )

She cuts through the night like an arrow, fast and silent, disturbing naught but air with her passage.

He is gone.

GoneOracle says they'll get him back from this other place he's been dragged away to. That this army, these evil men, will not be allowed to be the death of the Batman ( Read more... )

Words ( Read more... )

Tracking David Cain would be like finding a needle in a hayfield. But she had to try. Too much time, too many things drifting along under the surface could lessen her effectiveness in her role. But the detective work, that part of the job that came hand-in-hand with the cape and the cowl was so frustratingShe swept the stacks of papers, of ( Read more... )

Acrobats.

These two should be Nightwing's problem. But he's got a baby, and a wife. Two things Cassandra doesn't have ( Read more... )

"Could contaminate the area. Can't visit him. Not sure if the fear gas has processed it's way through system."

Cassandra lashes out at the heavy bag furiously, a barrage of kicks, hammer-punches, backfists, and a headbutt hard enough to make her see stars for a moment.

"Stupid. So very stupid."

She stands in front of the bag, breathing ( Read more... )

[continued from here]

The hand on her shoulder sets an already frazzled Cassandra teetering on the edge. She spins, hands coming up poised to block an incoming blow. Her eyes widen beneath the cowl, one hand glancing off Robin's forearm.

Thank God, she thinks, the could of panic receding for a moment, before coming back, harder. She whirls ( Read more... )

All work and no play makes Batgirl a dull girl. That's the lesson that's been drummed repeatedly into her head by her good friend Selina, when she's had the time to see her.

Hasn't been frequently.

So, with no major escaped lunatics on the docket these days, she's picked out something nice, hoping to impress Rob--, no. Tim. Not Robin. Not ( Read more... )

Tim is home from one of his frequent trips to California. That always makes her happy. There's something about the way he smiles at her, something that lightens Cassandra's steps. Makes her feel like singing, even though she only knows the words to a very few songs ( Read more... )

Birds.

Hate birds.

Be disenfecting scratches till morning. Let him...let them get the drop on me.

Stupid. Foolish.

He won't be happy if he sees me like this.

Fix it. By myself. Get back on the street. Nothing happened.

Nothing.