As much as Ashley hated to be cliche, that is exactly what she was for the most part. That being said, she hated hospitals. The colors were too bright for a place that reeked of the dead and the dying.

As she followed Beverly towards her teacher and mentor, she could quite literally smell where he had spent the night, but she decided to hold her tongue. Closing her green eyes for a moment, Ashley could easily imagine the hospital room of a girl who was forced to kill. She could still smell the blood on her hands and feel it under her nails.

Brushing aside her memories, Ashley tuned into the conversation. "I've been in the field before."

The brunette scoffed at Will's statement. "And with aim as terrible as yours, it's a miracle you've survived this long."

Beverley furrowed her eyebrows and nodded once in Ashley's direction. "You think you could do better?"

It took the brunette exactly 4.75 seconds to respond, in which time she had pulled out a gun, applied a silencer, and pulled the trigger twice, each time hitting the dead center of her intended target [all of which she did without breaking eye contact or blinking].

The Asian's eyes widened as she glanced in between the target and the girl. "You could've just said yes."

The brunette shrugged. "That would make me sound arrogant. I gave you proof. Isn't that better?" Despite how arrogant and stuck up that sentence may sound, her voice sounded like she genuinely meant her words. "Now, do you want me to fix your stance, or should I go?"

"No no, umm go ahead."

Ashley couldn't resist rolling her green eyes as her teacher stumbled on his words. She took a second to observe before stepping forwards, gently guiding him. "You're tense."

Will nodded to acknowledge her statement. "I got stabbed when I was a cop."

Whether or not she believed that was the only reason, Ashley smirked and responded confidently. "Mmm thought so. There, try now."

A loud bang filled the shooting gallery as he pulled the trigger. 3 centimeters from the bullseye was a small round hole. Ashley let out a curse in some language that neither Will nor Beverley could quite name. "I forgot to take the fact that you normally wear glasses into account. My bad."

It was silent for a moment before Beverley continued their earlier conversation. "I got stabbed in third grade with a number two pencil. I thought I was gonna get lead poisoning."

The joke seemed to fly completely over Will's head as he was quick to correct her. Ashley smirked slightly. "That's cute. I got stabbed sophomore year. Well...I suppose it was more of a prison shanking...but it was just in time for me to miss the partner dancing unit in PE, so I was pretty satisfied."

Both adults turned to her with a concerned look. The brunette shrugged. "I'm from Gotham, so I honestly don't know what you two were expecting."

While that wasn't technically true, it also wasn't technically not true. That's the thing about not having a birth certificate, after all. A good assassin's untraceable. You'll do good to remember that Aretha.

Ashley was pulled out of her memory by Will. "You two come down here just to teach me how to shoot?"

Beverley decided to answer. "Jack wants to know what you know about gardening."

Ashley made it to the crime scene before either of her colleagues. By the time they arrived, she was already kneeling by the bodies while occasionally eyeing a red-headed woman in a way that made it hard to tell if she was flirting or telling the redhead to back off.

Will glanced around the crime scene as the forensic scientists filled him in. "What happened to the last body?" And indeed, it appeared as if one of the bodies was missing.

Ashley didn't even bother looking up from her work. "Rushed to the hospital. He was alive, even if only just." And with that, she stood up and took a step back to let Will do his thing. She had seen and felt all that she needed to. Instead, she walked towards the red-headed lady. "So, what brings you to these parts of the woods?"

As if she was reciting a well-rehearsed script, the woman smiled almost warmly. "I'm the mother of one of the boys that found the bodies. They'll be wanting answers."

Ashley squinted her eyes and rocked her body forwards slightly. "Nope, that's not it." Rolling her eyes at the woman's expression, she continued. "Just because I haven't graduated yet, doesn't mean I'm dumb. I can tell when someone is lying. So try again."

The woman pursed her lips in distaste at Ashley's voice which had switched from almost flirtatious to straight-up bitchy. Ashley flashed her a cold, deadly smile as she followed the red head's gaze. "If you're planning on writing an article on him, don't."

"I could pay you."

Ashley scoffed at the predictable response. "What type of low-hanging whore do you think I am? And no, you can't quote me on that."

If Jack Crawford had known that Ashley Al'Ghul had [as she would call it] an 'instant bitch mode', he probably never would've let her deal with people, let alone go out in the field, but it was too late for that. The brunette teen had already decided that she hated the reporter.

When she hated someone, it was easy to tell. She would often start speaking as if she was addressing a small child and her voice would change accents. [Her voice always matched up with the locals of where ever she was. People are more likely to trust someone local.] Her accent would often give way to a Gotham accent [and, if she really hated their guts, a middle eastern one.]

The redhead's inquisitive eyes widened slightly in surprise at the accent change. "Tell me, what is a Gothamite doing all the way down here?"

The brunette raised an eyebrow. Flashing a badge, Ashley tossed her a cold smile. "Most likely investigating a murder with the FBI, seeing as in I'm behind the police tape. Bye-bye now."

Turning sharply on her heels, the teen girl sauntered back over to her mentor without another word.