Barbara didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to move. Within mere seconds of entering the roof, she was falling off it. She could feel her throat tighten, her belly fill with apprehension as wind gusted through her hair, forming tiny knots in her red tresses. Eyes were wide with fear but she had little time to consider what exactly was happening. Heart pounded rapidly in her chest and she felt like at any moment it was going to burst from her chest.
Then he was below her and everything stopped.
A tremor pulsed through her body as she tried desperately to catch her breath. Lips parted as a few shallow gasps escaped from her mouth. The red helmeted man was talking to her, there was anger and question in his tone but she couldn’t make out the words. Just as she was piecing together what he asked, anger rushed over her in waves, cascading through her veins.
Barbara’s gloved hands balled into tight fists and before she could say anything she connected with the man’s shoulders and then an open palm moved towards his head in attempt to slap him. It wasn’t until she hit the helmet did she realize how hard it truly was. “Shit!” Barbara yelped. Recoiling, she cradled her right hand, holding it close to her body. Lips pursed together as her hand began throbbing. “What is that thing made of?!”
With her left hand, she removed the glove from her right as she examined it, the pale skin growing pink. She could already see the beginning of a bruise forming on her palm. After another moment, her alleviated heart rate began to calm and she felt like she might be able to think a little more clearly.
“What was I thinking?” Barbara nodded her head dismissively. “I really hope that was rhetorical. I was thinking I had half a dozen armed cops on my ass and I needed an out.” She let out an annoyed scoff before turning away. Despite her current circumstances, it was a beautiful night in Gotham. Clear with just a whisper of chill. The cool air hit her red-hot cheeks, still burning with irritation.
Lips pursed tautly together, Barbara scanned the area. “How about instead of scolding me, you think of a way down, hot shot.”
They were under the walkway, in an access tunnel that contained a buzzing assortment of wires and motors. The shaft wasn’t lit, and the only source of light came from the pale moon. Red Hood had no sooner set Batgirl down when she started attacking him, fists bouncing off leather and armor. Then, an open slap to the helmet. Jason winced. She’d hit him hard, and his helmet was near indestructible.
“It’s a tungsten and graphene alloy. Is your hand okay?” He reached out and took her hand, examining it in the silver moonlight. He could feel the warmth through his gloves, it was so flushed. He scanned it with various vision modes until he was satisfied there wouldn’t be any long term damage. Bringing his gaze back to her face, he let her hand finally drop.
“You should be fine, Batsie. Next time, toss one of your boomerangs at me. You might actually do some damage.”
She explained her reasoning for the mad dash to the roof, and bore her biting tone without complaint.
“They were headed to the roof regardless. Why do what they expect? Cops here are dumb at best. Stay on the floor I found you on, hide, then head down to this walkway from the eighth floor. Escape out the building adjacent.”
He ignored her scowl, noticing for the first time just how pretty she was. Pale skin, tinged with freckles on her lips and jawline. Her lips, full and pink, formed a tight line as she frowned at him. Her nose crinkled in annoyance, a feature Jason found especially endearing. He realized he was staring, and quickly looked back above the walkway, scanning for the cops. From the roof, he heard shouts of confusion and anger, accompanied with beams of light that danced wildly on the night sky.
“Across the walkway. Hurry. They may know about this tunnel."
Behind them, the shouts ceased as the police reentered the building.
and all of this will never be the same again 