Batgirl, Killer Moth, and the Queen of Diamonds in:  Kabedon Miscalculation!

Killer Moth hid behind the column, banging his head on it in frustration as the bullets whizzed by.  It's an easy job, she said.  Three guards and vault door older than her grandma, she said.  You owe me, she said.  And yet here he was, dealing with a trio playing action hero while her majesty, the Queen of Diamonds, was nowhere to be found.

"We all know you guys aren't being paid enough to care!" he shouted over his shoulder during a lull in the gunfire.

"We're union!"

Seriously?  Thought to himself as a bullet ricocheted off the floor inches from his foot.  "Then just take a walk and let me do my thing!  Get your reps to cover for you!  I'll even leave something for you in the parking lot on my way out!"

The gunfire paused for second, "Not that good of a union!"

Sighing as he rummaged around his utility belt, he affixed an adhesive pad to the end of a smoke grenade mounted it on the barrel of his cocoon gun.  After turning a valve under the barrel, he pointed the gun over his shoulder and launched the grenade with a pneumatic "WHUMP!"  The grenade started spewing as soon as it hit the ceiling, held in place out of reach of the guards by the adhesive as it filled the room with a thick, blinding smoke.  With the flick of hidden switch on his helmet, his vision swapped to the greyscale of infrared and he vaulted from behind the column, adrenaline spiking through his muscles.

The guards were flailing in the blinding smoke, but Killer Moth saw them plain as day, silhouette-white against the billowing clouds that filled the room.  Cocoon gun to his shoulder, he drew a bead and fired, nailing the first guard in the chest and sending him on his back, wrapped tight and glued to the floor by the fast drying adhesive.  He could barely make out the second guard desperately trying to reload before he pulled the trigger again, nailing the guard against the wall.  The last guard had caught on to something happening he couldn't see and dove for cover as Moth fired.  Not fast enough, as the cocooning blast caught him in the legs, throwing him face first into the concrete floor.

Panting as he watched the guards struggle, Killer Moth caught his breath as the smoke slowly descended and fade.  Holstering the cocoon gun, he leaned back on a bullet-riddled column, and eyed the disabled men as he turned his vision back to normal.  "I meant it, I would have left you something," he responded to the swearing and grunting as they tried to rip their way free.  Suddenly his attention was drawn to the clack-clack-clack of heels on concrete as the Queen of Diamonds strutted into the room.  The harsh, bluish light of the overhead fluorescents reflecting and refracting brilliantly off the necklaced jewels that were draped across her chest and festooned upon her tiara'd head as she twirled her scepter through her fingers, the tails of her fur-lined coat sashaying behind her with every step.

"Nice of you to finally join me," he threw at her with a accusatory tone.

"I was afraid I'd just get in the way, my dear Killer Moth," she purred haughtily, "it seemed like you had everything...tied down in here."  She turned to the guard whose arms were still free as he surreptitiously tried to reach for his gun and jammed the end of her scepter in his back, triggering the taser hidden inside and sending him to unconsciousness.  She turned back to Moth with a wink and smirk, "Almost..."

Dru tried his best to glare at her through his helmet, but the smirk just wouldn't go away.  "No one likes an armchair quarterback, Marsha."

"Buh-buh-buh-buh," she intoned tapping her finger on his helmet over his mouth, "the gimmick remains in place until the job is done.  Now come along, riches await us."

Together they headed past the antechamber and into the vault room.  Dru eyed up the vault door at the end of the narrow room.  Marsha was right, it was practically antediluvian - so old it probably didn't have any of the security features considered standard for decades.  No electronics with exposed hinges and bolts, he wondered why anyone would trust this thing to protect the haul of gemstones inside of it, never mind who'd be willing to insure something so vulnerable.  His gawking was interrupted by the Queen elbowing him out of the way as she fished a pair of goggles from her pocket.  Holding them to her eyes, she pointed her scepter at the locking bolts and pressed a recessed trigger on her scepter.  After a moment of warming up, a bright red laser came from the jewel at the tip and she began cutting the lock.  Killer Moth turned away and stared out of the room, tapping his foot nervously as he wondered how long it'd be before anyone noticed the security system was down or the localized cell phone jamming.  With an uncharacteristic hoot, the Queen of Diamonds grabbed the vault door and swung it open, revealing a steel and cement box crammed full of metal cabinets standing like tombstones host to millions in various gemstones.

"Bow down to my magnificence," she intoned at no one in particular as she scampered into the vault.  "And remember, darling, cut, color, clarity, and carat!  The contents should be listed on the cabinet doors, all the diamonds go to me..." she turned her head back to Moth as he entered the vault and smiled mischievously, "but feel free to throw in a few quality sapphires and rubies, maybe an emerald or two."  She began hungrily tearing open the cabinets and pulling out the black velvet bags containing the gemstones, seemingly lost in a maniacal daze.  Killer Moth was just glad they were in the home stretch of the robbery, and from his belt unfurled a sack with a dollar sign printed on the front - earning him a side-eyed scoff from his partner in crime.  Whatever, the Cavalier thought it was hilarious.

He had just begun scooping up bags of gems when the sharp sound of metal hitting metal drew their attention to the wall.  There was just enough time to recognize a batarang embedded into the concrete before it let out a high-decibel screech that that the Queen of Diamonds drop everything to clutch her ears.  Protected by his helmet, Dru struggled to draw his cocoon gun at the sight of Batgirl striding confidently into the vault, managing to pull it free just in time for a second batarang to knock it free from his grasp.

"You didn't tell me you had a new girlfriend, Mothy," she chided, head tilted with an assuredness like she had already won the fight, "and here I thought we had something special, just you and me."

Having a second to recover, the Queen of Diamonds was first to react, slamming her shoulder into a free-standing cabinet and knocking it over on Batgirl.  It hit the ground with a loud clatter, Batgirl effortlessly springing back from under it.  "You're new," she said as she pushed forward into a roundhouse.  The Queen caught the kick with both her forearms, but the force of the blow sent her reeling back against the wall.

"I've a finer pedigree than you," the Queen snarled angrily as she pointed her scepter and fired the laser, chasing Batgirl as the caped figured flipped away behind a stack of cabinets.

"Before my time, then?" Batgirl mocked from safety as she pulled micro-explosives from her belt.  A quick toss to the left and the right and the back to back detonations in front of her face left the Queen reeling and open as Batgirl hoisted herself over the cabinet and leapt down at her foe, catching the Queen square across the face with her fist.  Not giving any quarter, Batgirl rained a flurry of punches on the reeling supervillain, sending her against the wall where she could do little but offer token resistances to the beating.  Just as Batgirl pulled back to drop a decisive blow, the Queen found her second wind and slammed her shoulder into the dropped guard of the vigilante.  Off-balance, it was Batgirl's turn on the defensive as the Queen swung her scepter like a mace, the weight of the weapon hurting even through Batgirl's armor.  A mistimed attempt to strike back allowed a heavy blow to impact the side of her cowl and she fell backwards against the toppled cabinet that started the fight.  "We can go with vintage if you like," she spat out slightly dazed.

Her breath ragged, the Queen flipped her scepter around and thrust the electrified end at Batgirls face.  Just the opening Batgirl needed.  She grabbed the tip of the scepter, electricity humming in the palm of her insulated gloves, and yanked hard, sending the Queen of Diamonds' sternum right into her elbow.  Her majesty fell back, her weapon now in the hands of her enemy who pushed off and land a headbutt.  Before a recovery could commence the scepter impacted her jaw.  Everything flashed for a second and her body felt numb as she watched Batgirl, seemingly in slow motion, reared back for the finish.  Somehow she managed to will her leg to rise, a clumsy kick but one still good enough to shove Batgirl away.  "MOTH!," she screamed, "why aren't you hel..."  Her cry died in her throat and her body went numb as she looked around and realized her partner had already bailed.  The scepter flew at her head, missing it by millimetres as she ducked.  Batgirl was back in the game.  "Screw the gimmick," she muttered under her breath, and reached under her coat for the pistol on her back.  A pull of the trigger and automatic fire thundered, sending clouds of sparks and shattered gems into the air as Batgirl desperately dove for cover as the Queen cackled madly.  Unfortunately for her, she had never stopped to think what 800 rounds per minute meant in the context of a 33 round magazine, and the laughter, along with the bullets, stopped in less than 3 seconds.  She had just enough time to slump her shoulders before a batarang nailed her in the middle of her forehead, knocking her flat on her backside.  She was still disoriented as Batgirl approached and could do little but look up with a weary defiance.  "A good man is hard to find," she said with a bitter snort as the vigilante twirled around for another roundhouse kick.  This time there were no raised arms, and the Queen of Diamonds slumped to the ground with heavy thud.

Killer Moth sprinted out of the vault, past the still struggling guards, and hit the hallway at full speed.  This was a heist, not a protection gig, and Marsha could deal with it.  He just hoped she could distract Batgirl long enough for him to make a clean break.  The Mothmobile was waiting right outside past the loading dock, and if he could reach it she'd never catch him.  His heart beating rapidly in his chest he threw his body at the double doors between him and freedom, only to eat a faceful of door as they refused to budge.  Falling several wobbly steps back, rushed forward again, shaking and rattling the doors that should have been open before noticing the chain Batgirl had wrapped through the handles.  He began to panic.  The fire exit was on the other side of the floor and would take him past Batgirl and opposite his car.  Reacting more than thinking he rushed the stairwell, charging the door open and sprinting up the flights of stairs.  He needed a window, but the building didn't have any below the fourth floor.  Stupid Brutalist architect.  His breath was labored and the muscles in his thighs screamed in agony as he rounded the stairs.  Almost to the fourth floor he heard a whizzing sound fly up the center of the stairwell past him and he knew he didn't have much time.  A caped and shadowed figure flew up the stair well and grabbed hold of the railing just as he yanked the handle and threw open the door to the fourth floor.

He was in some kind of office complex, a maze of cubicles ringed by offices, and didn't have time to figure out how best to get through.  He ran on instinct as he tried to find the exterior wall, Find Window, Open Window, Fly, repeating like a mantra with every heartbeat.  Suddenly there was an impact in the middle of his back, and he was thrown forward, slamming into and almost flipping over a copy machine tucked at the end of a cubicle path.  Instinctive he grabbed the trash can and swung around to block the punch he knew was coming.  Flailing the can he staved off Batgirl's punches as he took off down the cheaply carpeted office, a window overlooking the street glowing victoriously in front of him.  Just as he was about to reach it, his legs were pulled out from under him by a pair of arms wrapping around his knees.  Ignoring the pain as he hit the ground he kicked back, feeling each blow land home until his attacker was forced off and he was able to scramble to his feet once again.  She was too close, he needed some distance.  Turning down the hallway, he spied the faint flow of streetlights from a doorway and charged in only to stop himself.  It wasn't the streetlights, it was the glow of a vending machine.  He was in some kind of breakroom with no other exit.

He barely had time to process his mistake when another blow landed from behind.  This time shoving him stomach first into the edge of a counter.  Reaching up he grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on and threw it at his attacker.  The coffeemaker sailed forth and fell short as the cord interrupted its flight.  Without missing a beat Batgirl grabbed the appliance off the ground and swung it at Killer Moth, the coffeemaker shattering under the force of the blow and laying him out across the nearby table.  He had just enough time to flip himself over and onto the ground before her fist hit right where his crotch had been.  With a yell, he grabbed the table and shoved it forward as he lifted, his shield and battering ram, forcing Batgirl back and slamming her against the wall again and again.  He tried to run, but the moment he dropped the table she took it up and shoved him right back.  The sudden shift had him tripping over his own feet, and he careened into the corner of the room, smacking into a small alcove next to a row of lockers.  Trapped he turned to fight his way out only to see Batgirl's boot descending full force towards his head.  He closed his eyes and there was a loud crash, but he felt nothing.  Timidly, he opened his eyes to see Batgirl's boot resting on the lockers next to his head, a sizeable dent where it impacted.  She was in a standing split, grinning from ear to ear and staring at him.  Her smile read alpha bitch, while her eyes screamed apex predator.

"Now, now, Mothy, you know what's going to happen next, so be a dear and give up, won't you?" she asked in that melodious tone that let you know you were nothing before her.  Killer Moth contemplated for a second then slowly knelt down.  "There's a good boy, now come quietly and I won't have to hurt you too bad."

Too late did she notice Killer Moth tensing his muscles, and even if she did she wasn't in a position to do anything.  Summoning all the strength he could muster through the pain he rocketed upwards and slammed his fist right into Batgirl's unprotected crotch.  She screamed as she fell backwards, and Killer Moth didn't hesitate to step on her as he ran past.  Backtracking he made it back to the window, and, one micro-explosive charge later, and leapt into the night and was gliding down to freedom.  Batgirl scrambled to catch him best she could, awkwardly waddling down the hall in time to see him jump.  By the time she reached the window the grappling gun was in her hand, but right before she could pull the trigger to follow another spasm of pain rocked her crotch and left her reeling.  And when she had recovered, he was long gone.

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Babs moved down the hospital hallway at something between a waddle and a shuffle, trying to do so while keeping her legs spread but not too spread, close but not too close, and without actually moving her hips.  The pain killers were helping, barely, and the slow pace gave her all the time in the world to think things over.  She was used to brainstorming up plausible excuses for improbable amounts of injury, so it was quite a relief that the doctor simply raised her hands and nodded when she said, "I was practicing standing splits when..."  Small mercies when the rest of the conversation included the phrases, "traumatic vulva injury," "vaginal contusion," and "potential long-term damage."  She wasn't sure how she was getting home either.  Frankie had to remote pilot the Batcycle for her and she wasn't sure if she could deal with the seemingly compulsory small talk of a rideshare driver a second time today.  Lost in thought, she didn't notice the man standing in front of her until she almost crashed into him.  "Sorry, sorry," she scrambled to apologize, fixing to add more contrition until she took a good look at just who she almost bumped into.

"Hi," said Killer Moth, cleverly disguised as Drury Walker, object of Babs' occasional desire and current ire.  He pulled his hands out of his jacket pockets and scratched the back of his head, unsure of how things were going to play out.  "How, um, how are you feeling?"  Disdain flowed from her eyes as she flipped him off and pushed past him, trying to waddle as fast as she could away from him.  He stuck by her side, walking backwards to face her, "you're not mad are you?"

"Go to hell, Dru."

"C'mon, you're the one who left yourself open."

She stopped and stared at him for a minute before continuing through the lobby and outside, "Leave me alone, Dru."

"I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"No, you uppercut my vagina."

"I was going to get you one of those get well soon teddy bears but the gift shop wanted like $30 dollars for a tiny one."

"You're just..." she winced as she sat down on the sidewalk bench, "here to have a laugh at my expense, aren't you?"

He sat down beside her and clasp his hands between his knees, "Maybe a little, but not entirely."

"I don't care.  Go away and let me figure out how I'm going to live this down."

"Do you want me to break our 'no apologizing' rule for this?"

She looked at him, then looked out at the parking lot, surprised at how sincere he looked.  She wanted him to apologize, but that wasn't them and it'd only make things more complicated in the long run.  And deep down, she recognized that she made the error in assuming that he'd just roll over for her, knowing that if the situation were reversed she'd have pulled the exact same move.  "No," she said finally, her anger dissipating into bitterness towards herself for not just slamming her heel into his head when she had the chance.

"I do have something that might make you feel a bit better," he said as he fished around in his pocket, before pulling out a diamond the size of a quarter and placing it into her hand.

"Are you seriously trying to bribe your way back into my good graces with a stolen diamond?  I'm a bit flattered you'd miss out of this chunk of change, but I'm not going dirty for you."  She held it up to the sky and peered at it, admiring the brilliance in the sunlight, "Even if it's probably worth more than I make in a couple of months.  Pretty though."  She tried to hand it back to him but he waved her away.

"Keep it, it's worth a couple bucks at most.  It's a fake.  A good one but still fake.  Turns out our little gem seller is passing off counterfeits as the real deal.  I got maybe 10 legit stones out of my entire haul.  So it might not make up for me...you know, but I figure it might appeal to your violent moral busybody side to know that."

"I thought you had a firm 'no snitching' rule."

"It's not snitching when they screwed me over.  I probably could have made more dosh sitting at home with a stack of lottery scratchers.  Certainly wouldn't have left me covered in bruises."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night.  But I appreciate the tip off."

They sat in silence, Babs idly playing with the fake diamond, unsure of where to go from there.  Finally Dru put his arm around her and squeezed her tight.  Babs wasn't really feeling it, but didn't fight it, and soon found herself leaning into him.  She had just about decided to put last night behind her when he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face, straightening up so that she was no longer leaning on him.  She held her hands up as she tried to parse what to do next but the only thing she was able get past her lips was "Goddamn it."  Slowly her fingers parted and she peeked upon his face, just as unsure and upset as she assumed hers was.  Slowly she pulled her hands down and looked at him properly, and despite the pain and indignation, the uncertainty and trepidation, she found a bit of inner serenity that brightened her face.  "You know what, Mothy?" she said, patting him on his knee, "I'll allow it."  "But," she continued as she leaned forward and raised a finger, "just this once."