"Ven!" My sister comes to my side, gun in hand.

"Detective," I respond casually. "Remind you of when we were kids?"

Growing up in Lightway City with our Dad being its most notorious mob boss, shoot outs and heists were a common part of life. This is no exception, even though until the incident at the courthouse it had been about three years since I had last fired a gun.

Because of that preparedness, shooting the first vinyl-clad freak who comes at me in the thigh is nothing but familiar. I pistol whip him before he drops. The rest are focused on the 'Bat Family', meaning Robin, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood and Batman.

Why is everyone so red?

"Ven, where do you keep the key?" Ginger asks me.

"Somewhere safe."

She frowns, "Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that," I roll my eyes, "I have to keep it to myself."

Before she can make a comeback, someone must speak through the communicator in her ear. Gordon, likely. She gives me weary look before running out of the hall. He must be in trouble.

Her movement draws a henchmen from Robin over to me. He swings a clawed hand at my face and I catch it, pull him forward and knee him in the balls, then the stomach. As he tips forward I grasp his head and smash his face into my knee. Another comes right behind him and I catch his nose with the heel if my palm, followed by a throat punch with my hand.

Throughout I spot Nightwing and Red Hood looking over several times. At least they're still 'protecting' me.

The ballroom floor soon becomes littered with unconscious morph-suit bodies. Robin and Nightwing finish off the last two together, a sight which draws everyone's attention. It's why I react a second too late when I sense the presence to my left.

A loud crack echoes through the room. Something wraps around my neck, tearing the skin there open. I reach up and grab the whip with both hands, turning to find the last assailant dresses in black, pointing a gun at me.

Everyone has stopped, a tense silence falling over the room.

"Stay where you are!" My 'captor' screams at whoever moves forward, "Or I'll shoot her in the head."

I snort, barely keeping myself from choking to death, "How will you get your key then? Fucking moron."

His clothed head snaps towards me. I assume I'm being glared at. He starts winding the whip, trying to drag me towards him- like any girl with a brain expecting to face certain turmoil while wearing Louboutins, I use hot glue on the sole for extra grip.

So I don't budge.

"You don't-"

"Shut up!" The guy cuts Nightwing's pointless reasoning off. "Listen here bitch," he growls, stepping up to me, pulling the whip so that I have to grab it at my neck instead. He leans in close, "We're going to get that key. You and I are gonna walk out of here, no Bats to protect you."

In my peripheral I can see the Bats sizing up, ready to take this delusional asshole to the ground.

As if. He's close enough now for a take-down

I smirk into his mask, "What makes you think I can't protect myself?"

My hands are covered in my own blood, but it doesn't matter. I risk my neck by letting go of the whip and pushing his arms out. He fires then gun when it's knocked away. I wrap my fingers around the back of his skull and drive my forehead into his nose.

The whip loosens. I draw back and punch him across the face, then reach over his shoulder, pull him down and knee him in the chest, feeling a few ribs break. I snatch the gun before he can drop it and slam it into the back of his head.

He drops like a sack of body parts.

Batman is next to me in a blink, the others behind him or at my other side. The Dark Knight seems generally unfazed by my ability, but the others spend a few solid seconds in stunned silence.

Red Robin breaks it, "You thought she needed protecting?"

I glance at him, smile, then sigh, "Men."

They move for me when I turn around to head out of the mess. I look down at the flesh wound in my arm, the bullet glistening on the surface.

"DA Meadow? If you would come with me, I can fix that for you," a voice says. I look up to see Bruce Wayne's Butler standing there.

So Bruce Wayne runs of, but the butler stays? What a wimp! It's his house, why isn't he defending it?

Privately, around the corner of a hallway, 'Alfred' has a medical kit. Only it looks like the type of kit you'd expect an air service doctor to have. Sirens can be heard at bare minimum in the distance. There are a few cops around and scarce paramedics tending to guests outside.

"Are you a Doctor?" I ask him.

"I was a surgeon," he answers.

He removes the bullet and stitches me up. It has to be the neatest threading I've ever seen. As he bandages it, Nightwing and Red Hood come around.

"I told you to stay where you were," Red Hood grunts quietly. I roll my eyes.

Who does he think he-

Wait.

Hold up.

Jason Todd told me to stay where I was. Not Red Hood.

Maybe it was Red Hood.

I look him up and down curiously, which makes him shift in an uncomfortable way, before suddenly up and leaving. Nightwing follows, confused.

I thank Alfred shortly and get up, chasing after them to find Batman, Red Robin and Robin in a study a few turns away.

How convenient. Three large boys, plus a smaller one the same size as Wayne's kids. They got here awfully fast. Bruce Wayne is nowhere to be seen in his own house. Red Hood thinks he said something that Jason Todd did. My sister made 'cow eyes' at Nightwing that night on the roof of Gotham PD. The Joker kept Todd for no reason. Unless he wasn't really there.

"Son issues. Brother issues. Father issues. Identity issues," I begin, looking directly at Batman. Or should I say Bruce Wayne?

"What are you implying?" He asks lowly. His voice scares the crap out of me, but I continue.

"You arrived here oddly fast, almost as if your dwelling is close to Wayne Manor. Your little Bat Family oddly resembles that of the Waynes..." I turn to Red Hood. "Then, you say that you told me to stay where I was, but no; Jason Todd told me. Unless, you are Jason Todd."

I turn on the spot and list off Batman, Red Robin, Robin and Nightwing respectively, "Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne and Richard Grayson."

They stare at me, mostly with stony expressions but Robin looks angry and Nightwing looks impressed.

"I'm the best Goddamned DA this city has ever had," I smirk.

"I don't know what has given you this idea-"

"I just told you, Tim," I cut him off, "I'll be going now."

"We're guarding you, remember?" Nightwing hurries after me as I leave.

I roll my eyes at him and gesture to the stitches on my arm, "Not doing a very good job, are you? Or maybe it's because you were at the party too?"

Only now does it occur to me that I danced with Batman and Red Hood.

I walk over to Gin's car, surrounded by cop cars and ambulances now. When I drive off, there are two motorbikes following me again. At least they still want to protect me.

Besides, I'm going home. Not to my sister's house.

◊

◊

When I wake up the next morning, I am happy to find that it is Sunday. Usually DA is a full time job, but I have much control of it. Sunday is a day for me to do anything but go near the courthouse, or my office.

In the shower, the water runs over my fresh injury and it hurts like hell. Seething, I climb out and wrap a fluffy red towel around myself, before walking out to get some clothes from my wardrobe.

"We knew we were under attack," a voice says. I glance over my shoulder at Red Hood, or Jason, who is leaning against the door with his gun in his hand. No helmet, just a mask.

I shrug. "I still got shot."

"Don't be a wimp," he replies. I glare.

"This is literally the nineteenth time I've been shot," I say, his face instantly perplexing. "I'm not a wimp."

He stands there looking confused as my phone rings on my bedside table. I leave it and begin expertly wrapping my own arm. It goes to voicemail.

"Good morning Ven. I know it's your day off, but I need you to come by the office. There's something you need to see," Telysha's voice says. My stomach drops. So much for my dream Sunday.

When I finish my bandaging, Red Hood walks over. He looks down at me (while I'm still wearing a towel, mind you) before taking something from behind his back.

"You left this behind last night," he says, holding out my gun.

I take it from him with a smirk, "Thanks. You asking for something in return or can I get dressed alone?"

"Am I interrupting something?" Nightwing is at my bedroom door. I roll my eyes and step away, placing the gun on my table. I wonder if he just ruined an opportunity?

"What's up?"

"You can't go out without one of us. And I have somewhere I need to be," he explains gently.

"No," Red Hood and I jinx.

"If you think I'm walking into my office with an anti-hero following me, you've got another thing coming," I tell him, picking my gun back up and walking into my wardrobe to dress.

"You won't be with an anti-hero, you'll be with Jason Todd."

"Not happening Dick!"

"What? You want her to die?"

What a stupid question.

I choose a black and white striped blouse, black high-waist pants, red pumps and some jewellery.

As I put them on, the two argue outside. I wonder if I could just sneak out?

I head into the bathroom to do my hair and some quick makeup.

When I walk back into the room they have stopped fighting. Jason's stance tells me who won.

"Jason will escort you to your office, DA Meadow. I have other matters to attend to, so I'll be back later," Dick explains in a prim, victorious tone. He hurries out before either of us can argue.

Jason sighs heavily, rubbing his hands over his face, "I have to change."

"I should hope so," I mutter, leaving him to it. "Do you have any idea what the tabloids are going to say after today?" I call through the apartment as I search for my coat.

"Fuck you're vain," he shouts back, muffled, "You really think anyone gives a shit who you're seen walking with?"

"Yeah, just read the fucking paper!"

Last month I crossed the road just to pet a dog. The next day it was all over the news- DA Meadow crosses road to avoid homeless man.

"Who the fuck reads the paper?"

"A whole old demographic who give a shit about that kind of thing. Not to mention anyone who walks past one of those stands, moron. Not everyone gets their news off Facebook," I rip my fluffy white coat off the rack at the door and shrug it on, "Or a stolen police radio."

"You know," he comes into the living room but I don't turn around. "I've done a lot of protection detail. No one ever complains this much."

"And I've had a lot of guards- I never need them."

"You wanna be left to fend for yourself?"

"Did I look incapable last night?"

"So that's what this is a-"

I spin around and glare at him, "It's about my job. If I'm not getting shot at or hunted down I'm not doing right. If I let them think they're getting to me because I took one in the arm and need escorting to work, they win. Gotham's lower class lose the one upper-hand they have in the justice system here."

He looks away, glaring, "Save the righteous act. Not everyone out there thinks you're a saint."

"I should fucking hope so."

The elevator finally opens with a soft ding, leading to silence. I pick up my handbag and step in, with him following reluctantly. The trip down is filled with a thick tension. I pretend to look through my handbag and glance at his body. Black jeans, a fur-lined jacket zipped up for the winter. Not bad.

When we get out into the underground car park I feel around for real this time, looking for my Camaro keys.

Which are missing.

"Looking for these?" Jason asks. I turn around to see him holding up my set.

I glare and hod my hand out, "Give them to me."

"I'm driving."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"You're not the boss here, Jason."

"Neither are you, Venus."

Oh well then.

I reach into my bag's outer-pocket and take out my other keys for my red Hennessey Venom GT, parked behind me. I click the remote and unlock it, staring at Jason with a hint of a smirk.

Climbing in, I see him do the same to my blue other car. This is a much more comfortable agreement; this way, we're not in a confined space for too long.

I mean, how long were we even in the apartment? In that small amount if time, I wanted to kill him.