Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice or any other element of the DC Universe. I only own my plot and Nicky.

Author's Note: This is my first Young Justice fic and I'm excited. Please read and review.

Nicky knew that today would be a disaster the moment her alarm went off.

"Holy crap! I'm going to be late!" she yelled.

I have to get to class on time because Professor Brighton will be on my ass. I swear if it wasn't for this class I'd be a very happy woman. I'm a student at Gotham University School of Business. If you'd asked me a couple of years ago what I wanted to do with my life, I would have told you a business woman. But, it seems the more I find out about their world, the less I want to be a part of it.

When I say 'their world' I mean the "haves". I was born into the world of the "have not's". I'm an orphan that became emancipated from the state at sixteen. I'd like to say my stay at St. Katherine's Home for Children was nice; but, it wasn't. Just because you're all orphans, does not mean there isn't a hierarchy.

Anyhow, back to why I'm late. I'd subconsciously pressed the snooze button twice and overslept for forty-five minutes! Why is that a big deal you ask? Well, I don't have a car. I live in the Narrows, which resides in the bad side of town. So, getting a taxi to come here is not optional.

I'd have to try to run and catch a bus. I pray that I can make it on time! It's winter in Gotham City, so leaving without a jacket was also not an option. Winters here could get way below freezing. As I looked around my tiny studio apartment, I tried to remember where I left my gloves and boots.

There were a few loud knocks on my door. I strode over to the door. I really didn't need any neighborly visits right now. I opened the door to see a petite graying middle aged woman with a worried expression on her face.

"Hello dear, I noticed that you weren't on your way to school like normal. Is everything alright?" asked Mrs. Hawkins.

"Oh, I'm just running a little late Ms. Hawkins. Do you know an-"

"It's no trouble, my son can take you," she smiled.

"Great! Might I ask which one?"

Mrs. Hawkins is what you'd call a maternal being. She took everyone under her wing. She took me in the moment I moved in down the hall almost three years ago. She'd raised six boys out of a small two bedroom apartment and surprisingly none of them were led astray by drugs.

"Sean can take you! He goes to work right across from the university, remember?" she smiled.

I pumped my fist into the sir, "Yeah, slipped my mind! I'll get dressed and meet him downstairs."

Shutting the door I ran over to my bag of clothes. I found a pair of jeans and long sleeved top that would work well with the weather. My boots and gloves were left by the nightstand. Throwing my clothes on with haste, I grabbed my backpack and purse.

The only reason I was on time was because my professor was late.

"Did you go to Bruce Wayne's gala last night?" a giggly girl behind me asked her friend.

"Sure did! And he's so dreamy!" squealed her friend.

"The guy has it made. Money, women, power. He's the richest man in New York!" said a guy joining their conversation.

"I'll say! And guess who got a private tour?" said the squealer.

"You lucky bitch!" yelled her friend.

Ugh!

That is what I'm talking about. Airheaded bimbo's only entering this field to land themselves rich boyfriends. Potential golddigger right behind me. She sounded so pleased with herself too. As if sleeping your way to the top wasn't shameful. And with Bruce Wayne? He's another one. All that money and potential and what does he do most of the time? Sleep with random women and party all night. What a waste!

He's probably been pampered all of his life. Probably got into college no problem with all of his family connections. I had to struggle to get emancipated and away from the orphanage. Then getting my GED and convincing the Dean of this college to give me a chance at coming here. Sure the school preaches equal opportunities but that's not the truth. You should have seen the way the Dean and his secretary were looking at me. Just because I didn't have a founding family name. They'd looked down at me until I told them about the government benefits of having an under privileged student attend their fine school. Let's just say that the Dean quickly changed his mind about my enrollment.

A teacher's assistant walked into the classroom informing us that we wouldn't have class this week and to read ahead for our next test.

Just great! I went through all that trouble in an effort to get here on time and I have no class. Fuck my life! I grabbed my stuff and headed onto the street. I could see my rich peers being picked up by their chauffeurs. Must be nice not having to do anything for yourself.

I walked to the bus stop not knowing what to do with all of this down time. I guess I could go straight to work, make some extra money. Yeah, I can always do for some extra money.

I work at the Devil's Alehouse. Yeah, very creative name for a bar, right? Well it's mostly a hangout and meeting place for every slime ball in Gotham. They're all running scared because of Batman, but even criminals need a place to relax and get a cold one. My boss, Ethan, was himself a career criminal who used the bar as a front. I've worked there for a little over two years now and no one has messed with me…yet. Ethan's territorial that way.

The bus had arrived ten minutes later and I paid my fare. Sitting in the front of the bus I leaned my head against the window and watched the upper scale of Gotham City. The bus would drop me off at the train station where I'd get on the L rail that would take me just a few blocks from the Devil's Alehouse. The bar is conveniently located two blocks from my apartment.

I stood outside my place of work with a frown on my face. Mustering up some courage, I swung the door open and was met with the smell of cheap beer and ass. Just as I suspected, there was a bar fight and it was only four o'clock in the afternoon.

"Hey Nicky! You're here early, be there in a second" yelled Ethan.

I could barely hear his strong Brooklyn accent over all the noise. I walked to the office of the bar, setting my things down on the desk while listening to Ethan do damage control. The bar was oddly full for this time of day. There must be something big going down tonight. I walked behind the bar, grabbed a towel and started to wipe the bar down.

Ethan approached the bar, "So, why are you here early?"

"I was hoping that my wonderful boss would pay me extra for my trouble."

He rolled his eyes, "How much?"

"Well I need this month's rent so…"

Ethan slammed the bar, "How much?" he yelled.

I whispered, "I need a thousand before the week is up, okay."

"Alright, then. You make my customers happy like usual, you'll get the money tonight, alright sweetie?" said Ethan

"Yeah, does that include letting them grab my ass or do I get tipped for that too?"

Ethan laughed, "You'll survive."

Yeah, something about today makes me really uneasy. Disaster is reeking in the air. This full crowd here can mean only a few things: The mob is meeting here, the criminals are really weary of Batman or they really need to get drunk. I wish it was the last choice but that's wishful thinking.

"Hey Ethan, what's with the big crowd?" I ask, a little worried.

Ethan smiled, "Why? You nervous?"

"No, it's just weird."

"Maybe Joker might drop by and scare you to death. He likes pretty, young things such as yourself." He laughed.

I nearly dropped the glass I was wiping. What! The Joker? Maybe I should take the night off, that's way too risky.

"Hey! Chill, did you really think I'd let that psycho anywhere near you?" said Ethan.

I raised my eyebrow, "You'd better not!"