Catch Me If I Fall || R.Grayson ||

What's On TV?

Barbara flung her ballerina doll onto the couch, and plopped down next to her father. The police commissioner acknowledged her by putting an arm around her shoulders and letting her place a kiss on his cheek.

"Come watch me practice," she said, pulling her feet up onto the cushion. All the other girls at her dance class had one of their parents watching from the sidelines, sometimes even both, if neither of them were busy that day. But both of Barbara's parents never had the time to come in like all the other parents.

"I'd love to," Jim Gordon said, ruffling her ponytail. "But I can't this week. Maybe next time."

"But Mom said you would,"

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I've got a lot of work to do,"

Babs sighed miserably, and deflated against her father. Every time she asked, it was the same excuse. Both of them were too busy to come watch her dance.

The phone rang in the kitchen, and a moment later, Mrs.Gordon came around the corner and handed it to her husband. "For you,"

Jim took it, and got up off the couch, like he already knew what it was about. Barbara flopped sideways into his empty spot, and reached for the TV remote. She flipped through the channels, skipped right passed the cartoon networks, and went straight for the news. She did this because her parents didn't like what was freely shown on those stations, and maybe if she turned it on, they'd have to come in and at least tell her no. Then perhaps she could get their attention long enough to convince them to watch her dance practice. The news had never been particularly interesting to her, anyway.

"Babs, did you turn on the TV?" Mrs.Gordon called from the other room.

"I don't know!" She called back, eyes glued to the screen. It was channel seven, and the reporter, a young woman with raven hair, was standing just outside a police barricade on the side of a very populated street. Behind her, a man in a black suit and cape was dragging two handcuffed men towards a police car.

" —the Batman showed up soon enough to aid the cops in the chase, and, thankfully, subdued them before the explosives went off. The authorities are working on the interrogations concerning these mass terrorist groups; some new evidence has been leaked, that possibly connects them all together,"

So that was the Batman.

Barbara squinted to get a better look at the caped man, but he was soon out of line with the camera. She didn't know much, but she knew that the Batman worked with the police, so that obviously made him a good guy. Something clicked in her bright little head, and she gasped softly into her hand.

Her dad was a cop.

Did that mean he worked with the Batman? Of course, she had heard him talk to her mom about him, but it never once occurred to her that her own dad knew Batman.

"Barbara Lee, what are you doing?"

Mrs.Gordon appeared in the doorway, looking both furious and worried.

Babs fumbled with the remote, and the TV went dark. "Nothing,"

"How many times do I have to tell you that you can't watch the news channels? They aren't kid friendly!"

"I just wanted to —"

"No! Seriously, they don't censor anything one here! You're only allowed to watch the kid channels, or nothing at all, okay?"

"Okay, but I—"

"No buts," Mrs.Gordon said, "No go run and get ready for ballet. We can't be late,"

"Will you watch me this time?" The little girl asked hopefully.

"Not this week, honey. I've got to be at my studio to meet a fine gentleman and his wife. Hurry along." She ushered her daughter out of the living room, and towards the stairs, where Jim was coming back down, tying his tie. His police badge was clipped on his belt, and his suit jacket was open to reveal his gun holster.

"I thought you were home for the evening," Mrs.Gordon said, slowing at the bottom step.

"Something came up," Jim said softly, checking his watch with a flick of his wrist. "Got to go. I'm sorry, I'll be back as soon as I can," He moved to skirt around them, but Mrs.Gordon caught his arm.

"Jim, what's this about?"

"Hon, I have to go."

"Are you gonna go see Batman?" Barbara asked.

Her parents fixed her with a mirrored look that made her feel like she had said something wrong. Jim glanced up at Mrs.Gordon, before nodding in response.

"Yeah. I am. They have two bombers in custody down at the precinct. Look, I'll be back, okay? This is really important,"

He disengaged from her hold, kissed her cheek, gave Barbara a pat on the head, and headed toward the door. Mrs.Gordon made no move to follow, but Babs skipped along after him.

"Can I come with you?"

The commissioner just laughed, and shook his head. "No. The precinct is no place for a ballerina, Sweetheart. Too dangerous."

And with that, he slipped out the door to be a hero once again.

Barbara's frown seeped down into her posture. No place for a ballerina? She pursed her lips in silent contemplation, trying to work two and two together. How could she be just like her dad if the precinct was too dangerous for a ballerina? Every logical answer that came to her ended with one simple solution, and she found it to be a rather difficult choice to make as she turned around to face her mother, firmly planting her feet to better convince herself.

"Mom," she said. "I don't want to be a ballerina anymore. I want to be a cop."

Out of all the reactions she had been expecting, laughter wasn't one of them. It confused her very much, because she was being perfectly serious.

"Mom, stop laughing. I don't want to be a ballerina,"

"Of course you do," Mrs.Gordon chuckled. "And you're a really good one, too. It would be a shame it you stopped now. You can be a cop when you're older if you still like that idea."

"But Dad just said I can't because it's too dangerous!"

"He meant a small one like you. Maybe you can become a ninja ballerina cop, if that's really what you want to do. Now come on, you still have a class to get to."

"Will you please come watch me?"

"I already told you, I have work."

"Can you at least let James come?"

"James is a baby," Mrs.Gordon said. "He needs supervision. I'll come watch you next week. Promise."