A/N I'm just going to try and increase Babs' sass levels as she gets older. Enjoy!
"Daddy?" Barbara asked, walking up to her father and wrapping her arms around him.
"What do you want?"
Babs frowned. "How did you know I wanted something?"
"I've been your father for eight years now, Babs, I can tell."
"Oh. Well, can I learn parkour?"
"What?"
Barbara rolled her eyes, and dragged Dad over to the computer. "Look. It's really cool." And good for when you're running across rooftops, chasing the bad guys, she thought to herself.
"Well, you'll have to drop something, so we can afford it."
"Ballet," replied Barbara quickly, "I don't mind, I only did it 'cos Mom made me" there was an awkward silence. This was the first time Babs' mother had been mentioned since she left, and she knew Dad was still upset about it.
"Fine, I'll check it out next week. But I do have work as well, you know."
"Yeah, but that's probably really boring now."
"Why?" they both sat down on the lounge sofa, Babs curled up into Gordon's side.
"Because there's no more mob, just the occasional loner psychopath."
Gordon chuckled. "I do occasionally wonder how you know so much."
"I read."
"Really? I hadn't noticed. Anyway, Babs, it's not all about it being fun, it's about protecting Gotham."
"Yeah, I know." A lot more than you realise. "But you know I'm right."
Dad sighed. "You always are, baby."