Ballerina
The first time Jason had ever seen her, was the night of a benefit his father supported. At the time he really couldn't have cared less if they closed down the old Gotham theatre. So what if it was a historical landmark or that it as an architectural innovation. The building was old and creepy and he never really noticed it until Bruce had mentioned it one morning over breakfast.
Despite his indifference to the cause, he found himself, along with his brothers, mingling with the who's who of Gotham's social hierarchy. After the first hour of sneaking away to the bathroom to take drinks from the flask he smuggled in, the group of snooty benefactors was ushered into the main theatre.
Jason took his seat with his family, bracing himself for pure, unadulterated boredom. The lights dimmed, the curtains opened and the spot light clicked on, lighting on a lone woman on the stage. Her pose was tall and proud. Her hair was bright red, her skin fragile porcelain. She wore a costume of pure white and ballet slippers of blood red. She was a vision of perfection.
And then the music began to play. The tune was slow at first and she moved with long languorous steps. As time went on, the music grew faster and her movements became frenzied and short and yet still remained beautiful. She danced with grace and precision, stealing the breath from his lungs with every bend and twist of her lithe body.
He didn't know how long he watched her, how long he was truly captivated by this and only this girl. When the music ended and the lights switched back to the main theatre, Jason was on his feet with the rest of the room, in a standing ovation.
The ballerina returned to the stage to take a bow, lighting the room with a million watt smile that made him weak in the knees. Even her bows were gracefully beautiful.
Eventually they all returned to the lobby for the rest of the evening where men and women alike pulled out their check books to give money for the cause, each and every one of them inspired by the stunning performance of the red shoed ballerina.
Jason spent the rest of the evening trapped in his own thoughts, his mind spinning with images of the young woman on stage. He'd never been so entranced by anyone or anything.
At the end of the night, the Wayne boys slimbed into their limp and began the journey home.
"Tonight was a lot better then I expected." Tim confessed to the group.
"Indeed. That ballerina wasn't half bad." Damian agreed. Jason scowled, she was better than 'not half bad'. She was visually stunning in every way shape and form.
"That's Barbara for you. She's always been fiercely talented." Dick added. Jason did his best to hide his surprise.
"Barbara? You know her?" he questioned. Dick nodded.
"Yea, Barbara Gordon. She's the police commissioner's daughter."
Barbara, her name was Barbara.
He couldn't help but think it suited her perfectly.