Birds of Prey

Legend tells of a caped crusader...

...Batman, guardian of New Gotham...

...and his one true love...

...Catwoman, the queen of the criminal underworld.

Their passion left behind something extraordinary:

A daughter, Huntress.

Half-metahuman, she has taken up her father's mantle...

...and under cover of the night, fights to protect the innocent and helpless.

Joining her in this struggle, Oracle...

...who was once Batman's protegee, Batgirl.

She was caught in the crossfire of the war between Batman and Joker.

Now she fights crime a different way:

A master of the cyberrealms and mentor and trainer to heroes.

Together, they have taken in a young runaway, Dinah.

A metahuman herself...

...with powers to open hidden doors to the mind...

...powers that she is only beginning to explore.

Together, these three are the protectors of New Gotham...

...the Birds of Prey.

My name is Alfred Pennyworth and this is their story.

No!

- Stop. Leave us alone. She's trying to get away.

Stop. No. Settle down.

No. No. Get away from me. No.

Leave us alone. Don't.

Please leave me alone.

No.

No!

No!

Please, help us!

Sorry it took me so long. Here's your...

Baby.

They were trying to take it away from her.

- I didn't know what else to do with it. - You did the right thing, bringing it here.

Okay, you know what? Someone has to take the plunge...

...if only to stop the rampant pronoun abuse.

- He's a boy. - Figures.

What? Men always need saving.

Well, we should name him.

I'm good with "Boy." I was actually good with "It."

Helena, don't poke the baby.

How about "Guy"?

Simple yet insightful.

Guy it is.

I'll hack into the coroner's database, find out who his mother was.

Might give us a clue as to what the attackers were after.

Maybe you can find out where we return him.

What do we do till then?

We'll take care of him.

Take care of him? I can't even keep a houseplant alive.

No, this is great. I was, like, the babysitter at home.

Kids love me.

It's easy. It's all about efficiency and planning.

You're doing that super-Barbara thing. You know that makes me nervous.

It'll just require a little creative scheduling, that's all.

Wait.

You two are actually serious about this.

We vanquish the forces of evil every night.

How difficult can it be to take care of one small baby?

What is wrong?

Here, here. Let me try. Let me try.

Ugh. - Hi. Hi.

Helena.

- It's like holding a sack of screaming cats. - He stopped.

Did I break him?

No. He likes you. He's smiling.

Ugh. Coroner hasn't been able to ID the woman in the alley.

Neither have the police.

Looks like you now have to go to the morgue.

Mm. Sorry, duty calls.

Oh, and while you're out, you, uh, better pick up some diapers.

Let me cut right to the chase, Dr. Melfin.

I'm working on a tight schedule and can't stand for delays.

I paid you good money to genetically engineer this baby.

Now, where is he? I bought a cute little onesie for him.

One of my assistants broke into the lab last night and stole the baby.

Now, the assistant has been tracked down and eliminated.

The baby has fallen into third-party hands.

Some stranger has my baby?

Aah! Someone quite lethal.

My men didn't really get a good look. They were too busy, um, running away.

Let me explain something to you, Dr. Melfin.

I know I may look like the ultimate career woman...

...but all this, it means nothing to me.

I'm unfulfilled.

The Joker and I always wanted kids.

Me and my Mr. J, we would have had such beautiful children.

My green eyes and his green hair.

Instead, the best I could do...

...was to have you custom-make this baby for me and you lost him.

My biological clock is ticking, Melfin, and it's a bomb.

I'll get him back.

You'll do nothing of the sort.

It's obvious the pocket-protector brigade isn't up to the task.

I'm outsourcing.

Bring in professionals for the retrieval. And when I have my baby back...

...then I'll decide whether I'm gonna let you live.

Facial-recognition software searching.

Everything all right with you and Dinah? Sounds hectic.

Yeah, it's nothing we can't handle.

Okay, search came up negative. Same on the fingerprints.

You know what? Try the resonant image scan.

No significant dental work, no broken bones.

Ho, ho. Back up.

Scanner over her shoulder. There's something under her skin.

Looks like a biochip.

- I can feel it. Good, cut it out.

I don't get paid enough for this.

That chip may be the way we can tell who she is.

All right.

Cutting.

You know, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like this.

Well, you're one to talk. You've been sneaking up on me for weeks now...

...and all I seem to know is you call yourself Huntress.

Are you angling for a phone number, detective?

Would it do me any good if I say yes?

I doubt it. But I'd enjoy watching you try.

I'm not surprised to find you standing over a dead body.

I'm not even surprised that you're cutting into one.

But what are you doing with these?

You don't exactly strike me as the motherly type.

Thought you'd be less quick on your judgments.

Worked so well for you last time.

You're still mad.

That you called me a thing and tried to shoot me?

Oh, why would I be mad about that?

Can we be really clear about something?

- I didn't actually shoot at you. - Because you got shot at first.

- I'm not gonna win this one, am I? - Mm-mm.

Helena, I need you back here now.

We have an emergency.

On my way.

Sorry, gotta bolt.

Wait a minute, wait... Huntress, you...

You forgot your pacifiers.

Oh, it's boiling... It's boiling over.

Barbara, what is the emergency?

These are not ultra-absorbent. I really needed those diapers.

Where have you been?

I ran into Reese, we were talking.

As much as I'd love to stay here...

...and hear the latest chapter of how you looked into each other's eyes...

...but actually didn't get anywhere, I have to get changed.

I was bouncing him to quiet him down and he barfed on me.

I believe the correct term is "spit up."

What are you, off duty?

Might I remind you, Miss Helena, I'm a butler, not a nanny.

I thought you raised Bruce Wayne from the time he was little.

Oh, yes, indeed.

It does seem I have been taking care of children, and everyone else...

...for more years than I can count.

Still...

...it's nice that you're developing an appreciation of my work.

- Where are you going? To get a biscuit.

Take him.

Just for a second. I'm gonna get a burp cloth.

Huh.

Yeah.

See, you were doing it all wrong. Hmm.

What? It's obvious.

Oh, here's your biochip.

Guy looks tired, should I take him to the penthouse?

Uh, no, Alfred brought over a bassinet from the manor, it's just over there.

Come on. You've gotta sleep. I'm tired.

You know, this doesn't mean that I like you.

He's asleep.

I always thought I would be the maternal one.

It's nice to see how you're, well, you know, taking to a baby.

- I'm not taking to anything. - Of course not.

The sooner he gets back to the family the better, as far as I'm concerned.

Yes.

What have you got?

Uh, the biochip you retrieved...

...was some kind of heavily encrypted high-tech electronic passkey.

- I just broke the code. - And?

And it's from a biotechnology laboratory.

Simcron Labs.

- Guy's mother must have worked there. - Hmm.

So we should probably pay them a visit.

I wonder what was so special about her that those thugs wanted her dead.

Don't cry, Guy.

What in the world is wrong?

I had a bad dream.

Okay.

Macaroni is good.

He sure knows how to eat.

Yeah, the thing freaking me out is, how'd the kid learn to talk?

Why do we live inside a big clock?

Ah. He has a point.

Hey, don't look at me. I didn't pick it. Senior superhero chooses the lair.

You know, maybe he's an alien.

Or... Or an android.

Or maybe he's an alien-android cross.