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Jan. 14th, 2006 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: When I Grow Up
Fandom: Batman Begins
Characters: Batman, Barbara Gordon
Rating: PG
Notes: While waiting for Gordon, Batman suddenly meets someone rather unexpected.
Disclaimer: These character do not belong to me.
Gordon, Batman decided with a scowl, needed to hurry up. If the man was going to give him information on the latest crime boss attempting to rise up in Gotham, he needed to get ready faster. The fact that he had been unable to answer the bat signal earlier had nothing to do with his irritation.
Not a damned thing.
Even if a small part of his brain, the one that was clearly stamped Bruce, was muttering something about interrupting a man while he was having dinner with his family and how he could wait five more minutes. The crime boss couldn’t be good enough that he’d have all of Gotham under his control in five minutes.
He really needed to stop talking to himself.
When the window slide back open, he turned and then froze as he stared down into the largest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. Which was quite a feat considering how small the head was.
“Hello.”
This, he realized, must be Gordon’s daughter, Barbara.
Barbara who was supposed to have been just put to bed as the man sent his wife off before he came to meet him.
Obviously, Barbara had other plans.
“It’s rude to stare,” she informed him sternly, dangling from windowsill, in typical eight-year-old logic.
“Aren’t you not supposed to talk to strangers?” he asked, just as sternly.
“Daddy talks to you so you must not be a stranger.”
Batman blinked for a second. He’d only come by a few times since he and Gordon had started working together, actively, after the mess that had happened in the city. And he was careful not to be seen so how had she done it?
So he asked. “You’ve seen me talking with your father?”
“I’m eight, I’m not stupid,” Barbara replied, sticking her tongue out at him. “Besides, I can be real quiet, like you!”
Judging by the cookie clenched in her fist, sneaking around after ‘daddy’ wasn’t the only thing the girl did in her spare time when her parents backs were turned. And if he didn’t miss his guess, she’d already eaten one, or a few, on her way to the window.
Why wasn’t she scared?
Batman struck fear into the hearts of grown criminals and scared the living daylights out of the police force. But an eight-year-old slip of girl was staring at him like he was her next-door neighbor.
Children were a mystery to him, he mused.
He glanced down suddenly as he felt a tug and mentally groaned. Alfred was going to want to know why he had cookie crumbs on his cape.
Barbara tugged again, harder.
“What?”
She took a deep breath. “Billy next door told me that girls can’t be super heroes but I want to be a super hero and I think Billy smells like his dog’s doo-doo and daddy told me I could be whatever I wanted so…”
Good god, did she get that ability from her mother because it certainly wasn’t one of Gordon’s traits.
“Can I be a super hero like you, too?” she whispered.
Batman wanted to yank back his cape and tell her no, tell her about all the dark and twisted things out there in the night that would hurt little super heroes like her. Warn her off so that she ran so hard and so fast that the very idea of being one never caught up to her again.
Bruce, however, knelt in front of the little red headed girl with big blue eyes and said, “If you want to, yes, you can be whatever you want to be.”
“Including a superhero?”
He nodded and he was suddenly rewarded with a smile almost as bright as the bat signal.
“I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”
“No, no you don’t.” He felt a sudden panic build up inside him. This one was meant for the sunshine and the day light, not for the cold, lonely nights. Not like him.
Barbara’s face screwed up. “Yes I do. I’m gonna be like you and be your partner and everything! Just you see!” She dropped down from the windowsill and ran, skidding to a stop in the kitchen door. “I won’t marry you ‘cause boys are icky!”
Well, at least that was a relief. The last thing he needed was Gordon’s daughter crushing on him.
No, instead he had Gordon’s daughter wanting to be his sidekick. Shaking his head, he stood up and brushed off the crumbs from his cape.
She’d grow out of it.
Fandom: Batman Begins
Characters: Batman, Barbara Gordon
Rating: PG
Notes: While waiting for Gordon, Batman suddenly meets someone rather unexpected.
Disclaimer: These character do not belong to me.
Gordon, Batman decided with a scowl, needed to hurry up. If the man was going to give him information on the latest crime boss attempting to rise up in Gotham, he needed to get ready faster. The fact that he had been unable to answer the bat signal earlier had nothing to do with his irritation.
Not a damned thing.
Even if a small part of his brain, the one that was clearly stamped Bruce, was muttering something about interrupting a man while he was having dinner with his family and how he could wait five more minutes. The crime boss couldn’t be good enough that he’d have all of Gotham under his control in five minutes.
He really needed to stop talking to himself.
When the window slide back open, he turned and then froze as he stared down into the largest pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. Which was quite a feat considering how small the head was.
“Hello.”
This, he realized, must be Gordon’s daughter, Barbara.
Barbara who was supposed to have been just put to bed as the man sent his wife off before he came to meet him.
Obviously, Barbara had other plans.
“It’s rude to stare,” she informed him sternly, dangling from windowsill, in typical eight-year-old logic.
“Aren’t you not supposed to talk to strangers?” he asked, just as sternly.
“Daddy talks to you so you must not be a stranger.”
Batman blinked for a second. He’d only come by a few times since he and Gordon had started working together, actively, after the mess that had happened in the city. And he was careful not to be seen so how had she done it?
So he asked. “You’ve seen me talking with your father?”
“I’m eight, I’m not stupid,” Barbara replied, sticking her tongue out at him. “Besides, I can be real quiet, like you!”
Judging by the cookie clenched in her fist, sneaking around after ‘daddy’ wasn’t the only thing the girl did in her spare time when her parents backs were turned. And if he didn’t miss his guess, she’d already eaten one, or a few, on her way to the window.
Why wasn’t she scared?
Batman struck fear into the hearts of grown criminals and scared the living daylights out of the police force. But an eight-year-old slip of girl was staring at him like he was her next-door neighbor.
Children were a mystery to him, he mused.
He glanced down suddenly as he felt a tug and mentally groaned. Alfred was going to want to know why he had cookie crumbs on his cape.
Barbara tugged again, harder.
“What?”
She took a deep breath. “Billy next door told me that girls can’t be super heroes but I want to be a super hero and I think Billy smells like his dog’s doo-doo and daddy told me I could be whatever I wanted so…”
Good god, did she get that ability from her mother because it certainly wasn’t one of Gordon’s traits.
“Can I be a super hero like you, too?” she whispered.
Batman wanted to yank back his cape and tell her no, tell her about all the dark and twisted things out there in the night that would hurt little super heroes like her. Warn her off so that she ran so hard and so fast that the very idea of being one never caught up to her again.
Bruce, however, knelt in front of the little red headed girl with big blue eyes and said, “If you want to, yes, you can be whatever you want to be.”
“Including a superhero?”
He nodded and he was suddenly rewarded with a smile almost as bright as the bat signal.
“I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”
“No, no you don’t.” He felt a sudden panic build up inside him. This one was meant for the sunshine and the day light, not for the cold, lonely nights. Not like him.
Barbara’s face screwed up. “Yes I do. I’m gonna be like you and be your partner and everything! Just you see!” She dropped down from the windowsill and ran, skidding to a stop in the kitchen door. “I won’t marry you ‘cause boys are icky!”
Well, at least that was a relief. The last thing he needed was Gordon’s daughter crushing on him.
No, instead he had Gordon’s daughter wanting to be his sidekick. Shaking his head, he stood up and brushed off the crumbs from his cape.
She’d grow out of it.