Batgirl and Killer Moth in:  The Million Dollar Debut of Mothgirl!

"Not the Batgirl I was expecting," yelled Killer Moth, hoping she didn't hear the quavering in his voice, "but that's just fine by me!"

Across the rooftop the faceless figure in all black dropped into a fighting stance and motioned for him.  Killer Moth grabbed the grip of his cocoon gun with a trembling hand and steadied himself as a cold sweat dripped down his spine.

"I'm not scared of any Bat!  I-I'm not scared of you!  You should be scared!  Killer Moth is taking you down!"

"Yeah!  And his partner, MOTHGIRL!"

And with that boast every single muscle in Killer Moth's body tensed so tight that for a moment Batgirl thought he was having a seizure.  From behind him a young girl finished climbing up the fire escape and ran over to him, standing next to him and pointing dramatically at Batgirl while out of breath, whose steeled stance was softening in confusion as she glanced back and forth between the pair in front of her.

"W-wh-what are you doing?  Killer Moth managed to get out through his clenched jaw.

"Debuting!  Come on, Batgirl, you think you can take on the malevolent Moth duo?"  Mothgirl exhorted, twirling her cape for what she thought was dramatic effect.

"No."  Killer Moth stepped between the two women and turned to Batgirl, "Can you, can you just give us a minute?"  In response, Batgirl cocked her head to the side and shrugged, more curious than anything.  Turning back to his daughter in front of him, he quickly took stock.  Roller-skate helmet crudely spray-painted white.  The pair of safety goggles he hadn't been able to find all week.  A poorly stitched, homemade cape.  Her swimsuit with a moth emblem glued to the front.  Thigh high boots he certainly didn't remember buying her.  He inhaled, long and deep, until the urge to scream had mostly passed, and pressed his clenched fists into the sides of his helmet, "What are you doing here?  How?"

"I told you, Dad, I'm-"

"Codenames when we're in front of the capes!" he shushed, "and how did you get here?  We're an hour from the house and you were in bed when I left!"

"Uber."

An apoplectic cry choked and died in his throat, "What kind of Uber driver takes a twelve year old to the Old Financial District at 2:30 in the morning?"

Mothgirl crossed her arms and turned her nose upwards, "Her name was Leslie, and unlike some people she seemed pretty excited about my supervillain debut.  Killer Moth."

"Don't take that tone with me, Kitten, you know dam-"

"You said codenames when the capes are around.  I'm Mothgirl."

Batgirl stepped forward as Killer Moth raised his arm high at her retort, afraid he'd hit his daughter, but all he did was drop a pointed finger in the girl's face.

"No."

"Why do you have to be like this!" she shrieked.  "You're a supervillain, Mom's a supervillain, Uncle Karl and Mort are supervillains!  Why don't I get to be a supervillain!  I made a costume!  I came all the way out here!  I want to fight Bat-wait, where did Batgirl go?"

"Oh no," Killer Moth panicked; "shit, shit, shit, shit," he repeated as he sprinted to the roof's edge.  Looking down he saw that of the 6 man crew he was supposed to protect, two were already on the ground while a third was having his teeth lodged into a boot sole.  "Okay, Dru, this is...you can salvage this.  Uhhhhhh, cocoon bombs!"  He began furiously digging through his utility belt trying to ignore that 60 feet below him Batgirl was using a man's broken arm as leverage to help her break his leg.

"Wow, those guys are getting their asses kicked."

His mind went blank as he stared down as his daughter, thoroughly enraptured at the site of his latest gig going completely south, and the cold sweat pouring down his back changed to that of absolute failure.  Grabbing Kitten, he dragged her away from the roof's edge and spent a moment composing himself so that he could utter something beyond an incoherent stream of profanity.  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he breathed deeply for a few moments until he felt his anger start to go numb.

"Catrina, you're grounded.  Twelve weeks."

"What," she screamed, "you can't ground me!  I didn't do anything!"

"Fourteen weeks!  I whiffed this job because of you!" he roared back.

"I hate you!"  She pounded her fists on his chest, "All I wanted to do was be a supervillain too!"

The KA-CHINK of a grappling hook latching onto the roof followed by the WHHHHRRRRRR of a winch grabbed their attention as Batgirl hoisted herself back up.  Standing tall, she was caught off-guard by the stares of the pair in front of her and began shifting her weight from one foot to the other.  "Don't," she muttered after a second, voice hesitating and barely discernible through the full mask as she held up both her hands and curled her fingers, "...don't mind me."

"C'mon, dad, let me show you I can be a supervillain!  I can do it!  I can beat Batgirl!"

"Are you kidding me, you just saw what she did to those guys!"

"Yeah, but I'm ready for her.  She can't get the jump on me."

Killer Moth put his head his hands and suddenly it all became clear.  Maybe failure is the best teacher.  In everyone's life some rain must fall.  And maybe, just maybe, a beating will do a kid good.

"Alright, if you beat Batgirl, you can be Mothgirl."

"And I'm not grounded.  And I get a real costume.  And you're taking me to Disney World."

"We're already going to Disney World this summer."

"We're going back for Christmas break."

He crossed his arms and muttered "sure, whatever" under his breath.  Turning back to Batgirl he motioned her over.  "Could you, just do us a favor and..." he trailed off as he motioned to his daughter "...you know."

Kitten shrieked with excitement and pumped her fists rapidly.  "Alright, Batgirl, let's see how you do against a real villain?"  She spread her cape wide and tossed it behind her, not caring that Batgirl was busy with her utility belt and ignoring her completely.  "You think I'm just going to go down easily," she dropped into an approximation of a fighting stance she remembered seeing on tv and raised her fists, "well I got news for you!  You've never had to face the likes of Mothgirl before!  So bring it on!"

Perhaps, if she had not been busy trying to salvage the speech she had prepared earlier in the night on the car ride over, she would have noticed Batgirl affixing the extra-wide hook attachment to her grappling gun, perhaps, if she had not let her excitement get the better of her, she would have reacted when Batgirl fired it between her ankles, and perhaps, if she had not already filled her mind with thoughts of victory, she would have leapt out of the way as the hook opened with loud CLICK.  But she did not.  And with with the press of a button and boot used as a pulley, accompanied by a sharp yelp of surprise, Catrina Walker found her legs flung out from beneath her, and her dreams of costumed criminal escapades, along with the rest of her, fell flat on the ground.

Her father stood over her and all she could do was stare in bewilderment, wondering how she was looking at the sky.  "I'm not going to say I told you so," he let out a soft chuckle that he hoped she couldn't hear as he knelt down and and pulled the now askew goggles off her face, "but you're still groun-"

This time it was Killer Moth's turn to not notice the shadowy form flying towards him foot first, delivering a heavy kick to the side of his head and sending him sprawling across the roof.  Rolling to a stop, he wobbly brought himself to one knee.  "I was having a moment with my kid!  What the hell was that for?"

"Aiding and abetting."

"Fine, you wanna be that way, I'll play."

Killer Moth reached down and with practiced quickness drew his cocoon gun.  Batgirl was quicker.  The first batarang nailed him right in the wrist, the sharp edge shearing through his glove, cutting deep into his flesh and making him drop the gun while the second batarang impacted the gun itself and carried it away from his grasp.  Pulling the batarang from his wrist he hurled it back at her, only for her to dismissively bat it aside.  The cold sweat was back and he didn't know what else to do.  So he charged as Batgirl whipped the loose grappling line around him, tossing the launcher gun behind her to keep the rope taut as he ran.  Grabbing the line, she pulled with all her might, shifting her weight and stepping back to pull Killer Moth off-balance.  With him halfway between falling and running, she dropped her weight onto her leading foot, every bit of her weight and momentum carried forward into an open palm strike that impacted the dead center of Moth's helmet as an unstoppable force.  His head whipped back as his feet flew forward, and it was his turn to end up flat on his back.

Kitten barely noticed her dad hitting the ground.  She barely noticed her goggles were missing.  She still didn't quite understand what happened or why she was on the ground.  She just sat up and took off her helmet to rub away the pain at the back of her head.  It wasn't until Batgirl knelt beside her that she focused her attention.  The inscrutable, nigh-inhuman, featureless face only inches from her's sent her scrambling back with a fearful squeak, and she began hyperventilating as all she could see in the sheen of the mask was a harrowing, distorted reflection of her own appearance.

"Don't be mad at your father," finally spoke Batgirl, her voice so soft and gentle that it startled Kitten, "he only wants to keep you safe.  It's what he is supposed to do."

Upon hearing that Kitten felt her face flush red.  Who was she to tell her that?  Who was she to side with her dad?  What kind of superhero didn't want to fight a supervillain?  One last chance, right where she wants her.  She'll show her, she'll show her dad, she'll show everyone.

"Well whose gonna keep you safe from me!"  And with that she pulled a small, bedazzled can of pepper spray from her waist, only for it to be immediately snatched out of her hand and tossed away.  Before she could protest, Batgirl brought two fingers down sharply across Kitten's nose in response, and Kitten was once again left wondering what exactly happened.  Batgirl stood up and didn't give the pithy one-liner, crack a quip, strike a pose, or even toss her cape dramatically as Kitten desired, she simply gave the girl a kind and reassuring pat on the shoulder that cut right to Kitten's soul, and swung into the night without another word.

Kitten sat there, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around, until her dad managed to pull himself upright and walk over.  He said something, but she wasn't listening, lost in a crushing internal silence and the fight to not start sniffling.  Finally she forced herself to look up, and the sight of her father, draped in shadows with only the barest features of his costume shining in through the dark, made her wonder if this is what he felt when up against Batman.

"Four weeks," Killer Moth said, extending a hand to help his daughter up.  After a moment, she grabbed with weak and shaking fingers, and he pulled her up.  They both stood there in silence awkwardly unsure of what to do next.  Kitten opened her mouth to speak, but darted her eyes away and said nothing.  Killer Moth rubbed the back of his neck and fidgeted nervously.  Finally, with tears beginning to silently stream, she hugged him tight and buried her face in his chest so that he couldn't see her cry.  After a pat on the back, he pulled his helmet off and gently kissed the top of her head.  And together, they held onto each other as they walked to the fire escape.