|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 1, 2009 15:21:40 GMT -5
Barbara was on a happy-high since she had met Mary White and decided to move in with her. She hadn’t had the time to tell her parents yet, but she was sure it would go over well. In the meantime, she had spent the day buying kitchen supplies, towels, shoes and clothes – you know, the essentials. By the time she had finished buying a new dress and jeans, she realized she wasn’t going to have as many arms as bags so taking a cab was required … which allowed her one more stop. Sneaking into a bedding store, she bought new sheets and a large body pillow. Stuffing all her new items into the smelly cab (quietly thanking herself she also bought febreeze), she watched the streets of Gotham as she was taken home.
“Ttthaanks,” she called out to the driver as she pulled the bags out and started layering them on her arms. When he asked if she needed help, she shook her head and threw a ten through the window. Smiling, she turned around and stumbled up to the door of her parents’ apartment. Her arms weren’t able to lift very high at the weight of the plates, cups, shoes, shoes, and clothes she had in the bags. Making a face, she squished her nose as the key barely reached the slot, turned and pushed the door open.
“MOM! DAD!” she shouted immediately as she flopped through the door, the bags all collapsing to the floor. Her eyes widened as she listened for a crack or glass breaking and when all seemed okay, she pushed it all through further and shut the door behind her with her foot. “Good neeeeeeews,” she sang, hopefully not to an empty house.
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 1, 2009 15:36:21 GMT -5
James Gordon was in the process of making coffee, desperately coaxing the old machine into pouring some of the bitter liquid into and equally old mug, when the entrance door slammed shut, the sound of ruffled paper and plastic bags filling the house. Jim didn't have to think long to know who that was. Barbara senior wouldn't have made that much noise, besides, she probably wouldn't be home for another hour or so. No, it was Babs, and Jim's suspicions were confirmed by a cheerful, loud voice. He winced. As much as he loved Barbara's playful mood, his ever growing headache told his mind otherwise. God but he needed to get some sleep. It was a wonder that he had managed to free his Saturday already, maybe peace and quiet was too much to ask for.
"In here," he called out, pulling the mug from the machine and spilling some coffee on his white sleeve. "Damn it," he muttered.
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 1, 2009 15:45:53 GMT -5
Used to the less than cheerful tone, she was simply not fazed when he didn’t mirror her excited. Why should he? He hadn’t heard the good news yet! Grinning to herself, she started lifted a few bags on top of various places to keep out of James Jr.’s reach. Little snot would easily go through anything left on ground. When she picked up the bag from H & M, she winced, hearing her mother’s voice for buying yet more clothes. Quickly deciding to hide the evidence, she bolted down the hall to her temporary (Eee!) room, threw the bag in and shut the door. Clearing her throat, she walked down the hall briskly and put her hands on her hips when she stopped in the doorway, grinning at her father.
“Well!” she started as she eyed the coffee machine, wondering when the doctors were going to tell him he needed to back off drinking so much. “After much searching, I have finally found an apartment that I love and that you will no doubt approve of! I’ve already went shopping –“ Babs called out as she spun around back towards the door, grabbing a plate from a Crate and Barrel bag. She held it up to her chest to show him, pointing to what looked like a sombrero, but was a plate.
“Look! It’s for chips and salsa – in a sombrero! How cute is that? Plus it was on sale, and all that,” she waved off, hoping to avoid the discussion of cost of the bags behind her.
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 1, 2009 15:57:36 GMT -5
She had... found an apartment? Since when had she been looking for one? Was this a recent development? Gordon barely concealed a sigh behind his mug, and didn't bother to hide a frown. In his opinion twenty-two was a bit young to live on one's own, especially when one's father happened to be commissioner of police. But then if he had it his way, he would probably never let Barbara or Jimmy out of his sight. The frown turned into a smile.
"That's wonderful, Babs," he answered gently. "Where is it?"
He tactfully ignored the plate, which looked straight out of the cheap taco place at the corner, and took into her smooth features instead. She looked so happy. Jim hadn't seen happy in a while. It was refreshing. And he hadn't seen her in a while. He wondered if hugging her would earn him another round of half-hearted protestations, like it usually did.
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 1, 2009 16:33:00 GMT -5
Her lips shifted to the side as he ignored the brilliance of the plate. Perhaps it was a generation thing; parents wanted plain plates to eat off and didn’t enjoy creative ways to enjoy chips and salsa. Either way, she was sure friends would get a kick out of it – once she found some friends, that is. Slipping the plate bag into the bag, still grinning to herself over the greatness of its design, she turned back to him as she slipped a hand into her pocket.
“Ooh, where isn’t as important as with whom,” she slyly attempted to riddle, pulling out a small piece of paper from her pocket. Her eyes flashed down to the name of the street before shoving it back in. “It’s on E68th and –“ she paused for dramatic effect. “I’ll be rooming with Detective Mary-Lou White!” she announced as if confetti was going to shoot out from somewhere, like she or her father had won a prize.
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 1, 2009 17:01:50 GMT -5
Jim stared.
"You're moving in with who?"
He had heard well enough the first time, but somehow his brain failed to register. It was bad enough that she was suddenly moving out, now it was also with one of Gordon's staff. Which should have been reassuring, admittedly, but Jim didn't like it. Not at all. Not when he wasn't done purging Gotham's police department. Not when he had enough to worry about these days, and no time to check on his family.
"Barbara," he said plainly, "don't you think we should talk about this? I know you just graduated but..."
But what? Jim's voice trailed off. He put the coffee mug still half full on the table and took off his glasses in order to rub his eyes. God but it was too soon. How could he explain this to his daughter? They hadn't even talked about the whole Dent thing, but Jim knew his wife had made the effort of telling Barbara about the aggression, in details. He could never thank her enough for that, for he wasn't sure he could have done it himself.
First of, he needed to check Detective White's background. Thoroughly.
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 1, 2009 17:20:10 GMT -5
Barbara’s face faltered, as he wasn’t immediately as happy about the choice as she had predicted. She laughed slightly nervously, wondering if there was something about Mary-Lou he knew that she obviously did not. She opened her mouth, hoping some witty and funny remark would come out to break up the sudden tension, but he got there first (well, not with anything witty or funny). She frowned when she realized Mary-Lou wasn’t the problem – supposedly – but rather her moving out altogether. She smiled reassuringly and immediately stepped forward a few steps to bow her head and hug him. Leaning against his chest, she laughed quietly.
“Oh, Dad,” she sighed, knowing this reaction was bound to come sooner or later. Truth be told, Barbara didn’t mind living at home as Barbara. She loved her family dearly and loved hearing her father’s stories, no matter how gruesome they were. She would babysit her brother whenever able and loved helping her mother around the house. But if she was going to take her second career seriously, as in Batgirl, she couldn’t live here under her father’s careful eye. Plus her mother had an annoying habit of cleaning her room without asking and finding some things never meant to be seen by mothers’ eyes (oh, those magazines..). Her privacy was necessary. “It’ll be as if I was in college – but closer.”
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 1, 2009 17:40:41 GMT -5
Jim opened his arms reflexively as she moved forward. The gesture was more than automatic, it was a given. He wrapped his arms tightly around her slender frame. She had grown up so fast, much too fast for his tastes. Now she was over twenty-one and he couldn't force her to stay. Not that he would force her to do anything but to tidy her bedroom anyway, and he hadn't had to do if that often. She was tidier than him.
He remembered a time when they lived in Chicago, when Jimmy was just a baby and Barbara an innocent little girl he could sweep up in his arms every evening. She had been safe then. They had all been safe, and Jim had just been a sergeant, with time and ideas.
“It’ll be as if I was in college – but closer.”
Of course it would, but it was hard to let go. Jim wasn't stupid, he had made a lot of enemies these days, purging the department as radically as he had, and some of them might not be mad as Dent had been, but they certainly had enough determination to come after Jim. Or his family. It had happened once, it wouldn't happen again.
Maybe this was a good thing. If Detective White was a good cop, then maybe Jim could even keep an eye on Barbara... without looking like it. He sighed. When exactly had he started thinking about spying on his daughter through one of his officers?
"Ok, ok," he grumbled. "But I want to help you move, and I want a set of keys. It's non negotiable."
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 1, 2009 18:00:11 GMT -5
Barbara smiled as she was drawn into the hug. It had been quite awhile since she had seen her father or even been this close to him. It reminded her of the times he had a bad day and would come home to hug her. Had she been older or wiser, she might’ve realized how important those hugs were to him at the time and it seemed still were now. After her mother detailed the horrible events with Harvey, she understood his concern. She had, after all, decided to move back because of it and Batgirl was thus more inspired as well. She was a lot like her father, which unfortunately was going to have to remain a secret. Nodding her head to his desire of keys (ugh), she wanted him to believe he was the sole protector of the family.
“Okay,” she agreed to quietly, taking in a deep breath before she finally pulled away with a smile on her face. She didn’t intend on giving him the keys right away though; perhaps she’ll ‘keeping forgetting’ for a few weeks until he’s at her door, or he demands it of Mary-Lou. Or, though this was the most far-fetched, her mother would convince him he didn’t need extra keys. Yeah, good luck on that one, Babs.
“So, what’re you doing today?” she changed the subject quickly, not wanting to dwell too much on the topic or he might change his mind. She suddenly had the image of a police squad forcing her under house arrest to keep her there – which caused a concerned but small grin on her face.
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 2, 2009 12:22:24 GMT -5
"Trying to take a day off," he answered wryly.
His cell phone, abandoned besides the mug on the table, rang as if on cue. Jim glared at it. It kept ringing annoyingly. Jim figured if he glared at it for long enough, it would break all on itself, eventually. It didn't, but it stopped ringing, which was the next best thing.
Taking a day off. It had been a while since Jim had dared to do step out of his office without fearing for the department. The efficiency of Gotham's police had improved radically since the purge, but Jim knew he still had a lot of work to do. A lot of new recruits had come by transfer or directly from the Academy, and he wanted to keep a close eye on them. Now he had an even stronger motive. Detective White indeed.
Barbara was grinning at some private thought, and he tilted his head to take a better look at her joyful face. He found himself smiling back, a genuine sort of smile that felt better than a week off.
"I'm serious about the key," he warned, raising an eyebrow.
Jim suddenly saw out of the corner of his eye something that looked worryingly like a mountain of bags in the entrance. Well, she certainly wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"What is all that?" He asked, trying for a stern tone, but he was too amused for that.
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 2, 2009 16:00:26 GMT -5
Babs made the ‘uh-oh’ face when her father mentioned trying to take the day-off. Those came few and far between for any kind of cop, let alone those of Gotham. Her timing was impeccable. Turning her head to the side, she scratched behind her ear as her eyes fell to the ground, wondering exactly how to find a way to give him his space after just announcing she was moving out. Still grinning at the idea of her dad spontaneously abusing his power to be overprotective, she was snapped out of it by his words of the key.
Damnit, she swore in her head while nodding silently. Any parent that repeated something within that short a period of time wasn’t bound to forget it as easily as they did the milk or asking if you did your homework – which she was extremely grateful for having gotten passed that stage. Spinning on the ball of her foot to face what her father had discovered, her face lit up as she remembered the shopping she had done. “Oh!” she exclaimed as she jumped back into the areas of bags and lifted one from Crate & Barrel, pointing to the name for emphasis on the importance of her shopping.
“Well, since I’m moving out, I need my own kitchen supplies, bathroom, bedroom … you know, the necessities!” she purposefully used that word so that he was, hopefully, unable to combat her spending this much. While the shoes and clothes were hidden in her room, she thought of an excuse for those should he find them. Graduation presents! Hah, she was good.
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 2, 2009 16:18:09 GMT -5
That looked like an awful lot of supplies. Jim spotted another plate with Mexican decorations and couldn't help but roll his eyes. Some colored forks and knives... A bright desk lamp... A pair of odd looking slippers. Jim frowned again. There was no point in chastising now, what was done was done. It suddenly downed on Jim that all this 'material' hadn't come for free.
Now, he didn't mean to temper her enthusiasm, but frankly, this whole thing was beginning to turn into a nightmare.
"Babs..." He scowled. "How much did all this cost exactly?"
And what was even more worrying, he couldn't see any clothing, shoes or else among the junk covering the entrance floor. Jim might be old, but he certainly wasn't stupid, he hadn't made to commissioner for nothing. There was more to this.
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 2, 2009 17:14:54 GMT -5
“Listen…” she started off as her eyes wandered around the room, momentarily trying to stall while thinking of where all this generous money could’ve come from. It was very unfortunate for her how well communicative her family was because not only had she told them about her job, but about how much she made. So he had to know what exactly she could and could not afford. Her foot “idly” put itself on a bag and started pushing it behind her towards her bedroom, her eyes rolling upwards toward the ceiling.
“I think the cost of all this is less important than how much they’ll last me, right?” she attempted to twist in her favor, grinning slightly at her horrible attempt while looking to her father. Her hands moved behind her back and her thumbs pushed into the pockets of her jeans as she started laughing a bit underneath her breath. “It’ll be fiiine .. I, uh, will get more hours – ANYWAY!” she claimed loudly, waving her hand in front of her face to try and distract the moment away, dropping down and grabbing three bags. “I should be packing, you know – for -- … packing,” she wandered with her words aloud, turning around for a hopeful getaway.
|
|
|
|
Post by gordon on Feb 2, 2009 17:47:07 GMT -5
"Wait a second, young lady!" Jim called after her.
She was already pushing the door of her bedroom. Jim sighed and grabbed two bags, half carrying half dragging them -- what on earth was in those bags?! -- to his daughter's room. Packing. Barbara was packing. Jim felt a pinch inside, and ignored it the best he could, smiling at his daughter when she passed him to get the rest of the bags.
"You know your mother and I can always help," he offered softly. "If you need it."
In fact, he had even considered moving, since his salary had greatly improved with his promotion. They needed to get out of these suburbs, get to the heart of the city, where his wife and son could be safer. Closer to him too, and possibly to Barbara, depending on what they could find in the area.
|
|
|
|
Post by Barbara Gordon on Feb 2, 2009 19:33:15 GMT -5
Barbara couldn’t help but laugh as her father called out to her; sure, she would still be scared of him if he ever became really angry. Had he ever really called that out and meant her to stop, she would freeze in place and turned around. But as she knew it was all in fun, she bolted down the hall and threw her bags on the beg, both to let go of the load and conveniently cover the bags of shoes and clothes he didn’t need to see. Moving out into the hallway, she smiled at him when she saw he was helping and she grabbed the rest of the load, turning back to join him in her room.
“Thanks,” she said to both his help and his offer to help, nodding politely at the gesture as she began to move the bags around for organization. She had no intention of asking him for help to pack though she had better intentions than one would think. She didn’t want to bother him more than he already was. The city was turning into a valley of criminals, normal and psychotic and it seemed Batman’s help was more than necessary now. That had to be hard for her father, especially considering they were now trying to hunt him down for Harvey’s death. Burdening him with anything was the last thing Barbara ever wanted. She put her hands on her hips as she looked around the room and shrugged.
“I’ll keep it down on your day off,” she winked, grinning at him as she tried to suggest he actually relax on his day off.
|
|
