On the rooftops of Gotham City, you could see everything. The crowded traffic, the people getting mugged, the street vendors trying to desperately peddle whatever it was they peddled. By Gotham standards, it was a peaceful night.

Firefly, on the other hand, was currently crashing through the sky in a beautiful ball of fire. The wind whizzed past his helmet, and he felt more of his already burnt skin sizzling. The Bat got him good, threw a stupid beatarang into his jetpack. And now?

The Firefly was Firefalling.

He finally came to a halt, crashing into asphalt with a sickening crash.

"Ugh..." He groaned, and as his helmeted head looked up warily he was met with a civilian, staring at him with wide eyes. His head pounded, but as he looked at the unlit cigarette in your hands, he grinned. "Need a light?" He managed.

So much for a peaceful night.