5-6

CHAPTER FIVE

JUNE

"Thanks for the sandwich, honey."

Barbara perched on the edge of her father's desk and gave him a benevolent smile. "No problem, Dad. I knew you wouldn't eat otherwise."

Gordon shook his head affectionately as he reached for his pipe. "You shouldn't fuss over your old man so much," he told her when he finally got it lit.

His daughter leaned toward him and confided, "You know why I fuss over you so much, Dad? Because it's the only way I can keep you from fussing over me."

"Don't you have to get back to school?"

She checked her watch. "Yeah. I better get going soon if I'm gonna make that 2 o'clock class. And I know you have an appointment to interview the next candidate for deputy commissioner. How's it going?"

"Well, they've got it narrowed down to three applicants, so now I have to interview them and make my recommendations to the mayor — not that it'll count for much. I liked the first guy, Craig Mayfield, but he hasn't got a chance."

"Why not? You're the commissioner, your recommendation has to count for something."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Not when the powers that be start playing politics, honey. The mayor's office is under a lot of pressure to appoint either a woman or a minority to the position, and Mayfield is a white male. God, I hate tokenism!" he said with disgust.

Barbara nodded understandingly, but reminded him cheerfully, "Well, who knows, maybe one of the other two will actually be qualified for the job. Besides, it's a safe bet they couldn't be any worse than Gil Mason! How about this woman you're supposed to see in a few minutes?"

"Sarah Miller? I don't know. Apparently she was on the force here several years ago, before she joined the NYPD, but the name doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid."

Barbara stood and leaned across the desk, planting a kiss on her father's forehead. "Gotta run, Dad. See you tonight. Good luck."

"Okay, princess. See you later."

As she passed through the outer office, Barbara noticed a tall, self-possessed woman of about forty, with red-gold hair, watching her curiously. The lady — and lady was an apt word, she realised — was a stranger to her, but she seemed to know Barbara somehow.

Shrugging, she gave the stranger a wide, friendly smile and went on.

"Captain Miller? Have a seat. I'll be with you in just a minute."

"Hello, Jim. Nice to see you again after all these years."

He looked up from the file slowly, shock written across his face.

"Sarah? Sarah! I can't believe it! It's been...ten years? How've you been?"

"I'm fine, Jim. Older, hopefully wiser — of course, I'm still a cop so the odds are against it — all in all, I'm hanging in there."

"You haven't changed a bit."

She smiled. "You have. But you look good with grey hair. Looks...distinguished."

Commissioner Gordon turned his head to the side, fumbling with his pipe to cover his embarrassment. He hoped he wasn't blushing. Get hold of yourself, you idiot! he told himself sternly. This is supposed to be a job interview, for heaven's sake.

Sarah took the hint and changed the subject. "I saw your daughter outside. She's really grown up, hasn't she?"

He nodded, with the chagrined expression of a man who hadn't quite come to terms with the fact his only child had suddenly become a grown woman. "Mmm," he grunted. Nodding toward the photo on his desk — a glamour shot of Barbara with her chin resting on her folded hands, long red hair spilling over one shoulder, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief — he said, "She made me get rid of my old picture of her. I've had it since she was about eight, but she kept complaining that it made her look like the girl on Little House on the Prairie. "

She's a very lovely young woman." Except for the fact she looks so much like her mother, thought Sarah.

"Well, I think so," he agreed. "But I admit I could be a little bit prejudiced."

Sarah smiled. "I was going say something inane like, 'You must be very proud of her', but that much is obvious. But then, you always were a devoted father, weren't you, Jim?"

A sudden silence filled the room, and the two of them avoided looking at each other, both caught off guard by the inappropriateness (however unintentional) of the remark.

Ten years ago, he had almost been prepared to leave his wife for this woman. If it hadn't been for their daughter, he might have done it, too.

Gordon cleared his throat, and managed a fairly normal voice. "So, um, 'Sarah Miller' huh? No wonder I didn't recognise the name. It never occurred to me that it could be Sarah Essen. Married?"

Sarah shook her head, allowing herself one tiny, sad smile. "I was. My husband died three years ago. No kids."

"I'm sorry. I know how tough it is."

She nodded. "Yes — I was sorry to hear about your wife." She even managed to mean it.

Gordon glanced through her file again, desperate to turn the conversation in a less personal direction once and for all. "You've had quite an impressive record with the NYPD. Citations, medals...I'm sure they'll be sorry to lose you if you transfer."

"You've done pretty well for yourself, too, Commissioner. Gotham City is one of the most respected metropolitan police departments in the country. Certainly a far cry from the last time I was in this building. Of course, that's not the only thing that's changed."

He looked at her silently, waiting for her to continue. Her tone didn't sound personal, so there could be only one thing she could mean.

He was right.

"Ten years ago, one of the biggest cases we had was to bring down some nutcase vigilante in a bat costume. And now for some reason, Batman is considered the saviour of the city and has the full cooperation of the police. What in the world is that about, Jim?"

Gordon sighed, and launched into the now-familiar speech. "Batman has sources and connections we don't. He accomplishes things the department couldn't possibly do through official channels. He does more good for this city than any number of cops. And what's more important, he gives the people of Gotham some hope, which is a lot more than any of us have ever been able to do. And he's completely incorruptible. You've been a cop long enough you should know how important that is, Sarah." She just looked at him. He could tell she wasn't convinced, but she wasn't bothering to argue the point.

"And yes," he added, a bit defiantly, "I know Gotham City is a laughing stock to other departments for letting a vigilante in a weird costume grab all the headlines, but quite frankly I don't care."

"You still don't know who he really is?"

"No, but it's definitely not Bruce Wayne. I know that was your pet theory in the old days, but I've seen them together on occasion."

"Pity. He was the perfect suspect."

Gordon nodded. "It's occurred to me from time to time that Wayne might be one of what Batman calls his 'backers', but he's not the man behind the mask."

Sarah shifted restlessly in her chair. Gordon noticed her discomfort.

"Chairs haven't exactly improved, have they?" he smiled. "I'd offer you a cigarette if I had one, but I've traded vices." He lifted his pipe.

"That's okay. I gave it up completely."

He looked interested. "Sometimes I wish I could do that. What's your secret?"

"Oh, having your husband die of lung cancer is a wonderful incentive to stop smoking," she said lightly. Seeing his expression, she added, "Bill loved doing that to people before he died. He got a real kick out of seeing the looks on their faces."

Gordon had no idea how to respond to that, so he looked at his watch, suddenly remembering why they were here. "Uh, well, this small talk is wonderful, Sarah, but I'm afraid it isn't accomplishing much."

Actually, it was, he admitted to himself. If nothing else, it served to distract him from his attraction to her, which was still astonishingly strong after all this time.

Sarah smiled. "Right. This was supposed to be an interview for the deputy commissioner's job, right?"

He nodded, then looked at her solemnly. "Sarah, I hope you understand, but because of our, uh, history, I'm going to have to recommend against your appointment. You know that, don't you?"

She reached across the desk to touch his hand. "You wouldn't be the Jim Gordon I knew if you didn't," she said admiringly.

CHAPTER SIX

"So, how come you wanted to take criminology, anyway?" Dick Grayson asked. "Especially in summer school. I thought you always said you didn't want to be a cop like your dad."

Barbara Gordon leaned back against the cushions and considered the question. "I'm still not sure I do, really. But there are...other forms of law enforcement, you know," she answered mysteriously.

Dick gave her an equally enigmatic smile. "Yeah, I know."

"So, how 'bout you, Dick? You take every criminology class that's offered, but I thought you were slated to go right into Wayne Enterprises after college. What's criminology got to do with big business?"

"That shows how much you know about the business world! Anyway, I'm not sure what I want to do exactly. Waynetech is more Bruce's assumption than anything else at this point."

Barbara made a face. "Ah, parents!" she sighed.

"Yeah. Speaking of which, your dad working late again?"

"He's taking the new deputy police commissioner out to dinner, and I'd hardly call that work. Can you believe it? They hired Dad's ex-girlfriend for the job, in spite of his recommendations." She snorted in disgust.

Dick nodded sympathetically. "Ex-girlfriend, huh? There seems to be an epidemic of those lately," he said, thinking not only of Andrea Beaumont, but of his guardian's growing friendship with Selina Kyle, as well.

Barbara reached for another slice of pizza. "I don't know if it's an epidemic or not, but whatever it is, Dad's got a bad case of it," she mumbled through a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese. "I tell you, Dick, it makes my skin crawl to see the way he's acting lately."

"I know the feeling," Dick agreed.

"I know you're probably thinking I'm playing jealous daughter, but that's not it, honest," Barbara continued. "I've been telling him for years he ought to find some nice woman, but I didn't mean Sarah Essen!"

"Don't like her, huh?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not it, really. Actually, Sarah seems pretty nice. It's just...promise you won't tell anybody?"

He promised.

"It's just that they had an affair while my parents were still married, and I have a problem with that. I wasn't even supposed to know about it, but you pick up a lot at that age. After all, they fought about it for a long time before they split up. And then my mom died while they were still separated...."

Dick looked at his old friend with concern. "You're not blaming this Sarah for your mother's death, are you?"

"No!" Barbara objected. "That wasn't what I meant. Oh, I don't really know what I meant, but I know you can't blame anybody for a car accident."

"At least her death was an accident," Dick said gloomily, thinking about his own parents.

The sound of the doorbell cut off Barbara's reply. She uncurled herself from her seat on the floor and threaded her way through the maze of pizza boxes and textbooks to answer it.

"Oh, hi, Selina. Come on in."

Selina Kyle held out a small bottle as she stepped through the door. "I brought you those eyedrops I told you about for the kitten. How is he?"

Dick watched in amazement as a small grey and white tabby — the same cat who earlier had taken one look at him, hissed, and fled in terror, not to be seen since — emerged from his hiding place at the sound of the newcomer's voice and ran to her, purring ecstatically when she picked him up.

"Hello, baby. Have you fully recovered from your ordeal? He certainly looks healthy enough, Barbara," she said approvingly. "I wish you hadn't named him 'Timothy', though. I've never met a Tim I liked — including the idiot that Maven's dating now."

Barbara shrugged. "Well, he just looked like a Timothy. Besides, he likes it."

"Well, then, his is the only opinion that really counts in the matter."

"By the way, I'm sorry I had to change our plans tonight." The two women exchanged a look. "I had to study for a test."

"So I see," laughed Selina, looking over the girl's shoulder toward the mess on the living room floor.

Dick got to his feet as Barbara escorted her guest into the room.

"Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson."

The two studied each other with interest. Selina was the first to speak. "Ah, yes. Bruce's boy. I've heard a lot about you from him. He's very proud of you."

Dick frowned at being described as "Bruce's boy", but his expression changed almost instantly to one of gratification at the compliment his guardian could seldom bring himself to bestow directly.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, too. I've been curious about one of the few people to actually meet Alfred's approval!" he joked.

She rewarded him with that light, throaty laugh he'd heard about. "Approval from the butler — high praise indeed!"

The threesome exchanged small talk for a few minutes, and had there been anyone present who knew the whole truth, it would have been a priceless spectacle: Batgirl, who knew Catwoman's identity but not Robin's; Robin, who knew who Catwoman was, but not Batgirl; and Catwoman, who knew Batgirl but not Robin.

Presently, Dick excused himself and left, telling Barbara he was studied out and couldn't concentrate on fingerprinting techniques, though privately he was anxious to get out there and put a few of the textbook's theories into practice.

Barbara locked the door behind him and began to clear away the mess. She and Selina both grinned at the sight of the kitten stalking the last half-slice of pizza.

"He seems like a nice kid," Selina commented.

"Who, Dick? Yeah, he is. We've been friends since we were kids. We pick at each other, but I like him a lot, anyway. He's definitely not your average spoiled, snotty rich kid."

She hesitated a few seconds, then added with a wicked grin, "He's a very nice spoiled, snotty rich kid!"

Selina burst out laughing. "That's a perfect description of Bruce, too! Maybe it runs in the family."

"Maybe it does," laughed Barbara. "Dick's a lot more straight, though."

"Then you two are made for each other."

"Oh, don't you start that, too. Everyone in town's been trying to make Dick and me a couple since we were ten years old, and I wish they'd quit it. It'd be like going out with my own brother. Yuck."

"Besides," Selina teased, "you have to concentrate on your romance with the bird boy."

Barbara blushed. "Romance?!" she squeaked indignantly. "With Robin? Oh, geez. I wouldn't even call that a mild flirtation."

"Mm hmm," purred Selina, with an infuriating smile on her face.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Catwoman glanced back over her shoulder to say something to Batgirl as she opened her terrace door. She spun around in alarm as she heard a gasp from inside the apartment.

"Selina!?"

She stood regarding her unexpected visitor curiously, while Batgirl pulled a comical double take at the sight of a nun in her friend's living room. She just stared from one to the other as Selina pushed back her mask and said calmly, "I thought you weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow night."

"I...um, the teacher's conference ended a day early. I thought I would come ahead and surprise you."

Catwoman gave her throaty laugh. "Looks like you were the one who got surprised, eh, Maggie?" She glanced over at Batgirl, noticing that the girl was still staring wide-eyed at the two of them. "Barbara, take off your mask and close your mouth. You look ridiculous," she sighed.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Maggie prompted.

"Always the prim and proper one. Sister Magdalene, also known as my little sister Maggie, meet Batgirl, also known as Barbara Gordon. And don't worry about your secret identity, little one," she added in a loud stage whisper. "Maggie's taken a vow of silence."

Her sister rose to the bait. "I have not! That's something completely different and you know it. I'm very pleased to meet you, Barbara. Any friend of my sister's has my eternal sympathy."

Barbara wasn't quite sure how to take that. "Um, I—I'm glad to meet you, too," she stammered. "I think I should get out of here so the two of you can catch up. Bye." She turned and retreated hastily through the window.

"She's cute," observed Maggie with a grin.

Selina laughed. "She's an only child," she explained. "Doesn't know how to take all this family bonding stuff."

"So that's the girl you've been training, is it? How old is she, anyway, about twenty?" She shook her head as Selina nodded yes. "Why would a girl like that want to do something crazy like this costumed crimefighter business? She's got her whole life ahead of her. A 20-year-old girl should be worrying about passing her next history exam, not roaming the rooftops with you."

Selina rolled her eyes. "You know, you sound just like a teacher when you say that. Barbara thinks she's making a difference, just like you've always said you wanted to. Actually," she added, letting a devilish hint of pure Catwoman creep into her voice, "maybe you should give up that cloistered jail for kids in Chicago and take up crime fighting yourself. I can just see it now: the adventures of...Nunja Warrior!"

Magdalene tried to look stern and disapproving, but it was all she could do not to laugh and Selina knew it. Finally she managed to control herself, and asked, "What's the matter with you tonight? You're usually so serious."

"I forgot you never saw me in costume before." Selina bent over backwards in a complicated and very cat-like stretch. "Nothing's wrong. It just takes awhile for Catwoman to go away when I've been out. I'll be Selina again in a little while. Don't look so worried," she added, seeing her sister didn't like the sound of that at all. "It's perfectly natural. Actors do it all the time; it doesn't mean I'm a candidate for Arkham."

"All right. If you say so."

"I do. Now let me change clothes and personalities, then you can tell me what's happening back in that real world of yours."

The two sisters stayed up most of the night talking, then got up early and took a long walk in the park, enjoying the perfect summer weather. It was almost lunchtime when they got back to the apartment.

The sound of the doorbell caught Maggie halfway to the couch. With a sigh, she turned back to open the door, not bothering to check the peephole. "Hello," she said to the rather surprised dark-haired man on the other side.

"Well, hello, yourself," Bruce grinned. He looked her over in appreciation, bypassing the bulky sweatshirt with St. Ann's Academy written in blue letters to concentrate on the long slender legs sticking out of a pair of white shorts. Lovely face, too. Very like Selina's, only lacking the toughness. "Bruce Wayne. I'm a friend of Selina's. And you are...?"

"I'm Selina's sister. You can call me Maggie." She stood back, motioning him inside.

Bruce started to go through the social pleasantries, then realised with a start, "Sister—Maggie...Sister Magdalene! I'm sorry, I didn't realise." He turned a little red, embarrassed about being attracted to a nun, even a young and beautiful one out of uniform.

Fortunately Isis provided a distraction for him. She came awake with a loud yawn, stretched, licked her shoulder a couple of times, then abandoned her sunbeam in favour of Bruce's lap. Maggie started to scold the cat, but Bruce insisted, "No, she's fine. Isis and I are old friends. And speaking of old friends, where's Selina? I thought we were supposed to have a lunch date."

Maggie laughed, liking him already. He was obviously a cat person. "She'll be back soon; she's out chasing one of her cats. Ramses bolted out the door and got into the elevator just as it closed, so Selina is trying to track him down somewhere in the building as we speak."

"Ramses...that's the big brown cat, isn't it? I remember him because he's always in trouble. And, of course, nobody could forget this little girl." He smiled down at Isis, and she rewarded him with a purr. "I can never keep all those others straight, though."

"Well, let's see." Maggie thought a minute. "Ramses' little sister is Bastet, the little white one is Nefret, the black one is Anubis, and Sethos is the orange cat. And there's Lucky, the crotchety old Persian. Selina saved him from a trash compactor years ago, when he was just a kitten. He hates everyone except her."

Privately, Bruce thought the evil-looking white Persian didn't seem any too fond of Selina, either, but he didn't say it. The cat glared at him malevolently, as if he knew what he was thinking.

Selina came back just as they were starting to run out of small talk, dropping the errant Ramses on the floor as she came in. He sat down in front of her and started to groom himself with an injured attitude. "Well, remember that next time you decide to visit the sixth floor," she told him sternly.

And then, "Oops!" as she caught sight of Bruce and remembered the lunch date that had slipped her mind in the excitement of her sister's early arrival. "I'm sorry, I meant to call you and cancel."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad I had a chance to meet your charming sister. We can make it some other time."

"No, don't cancel your plans on my account," Maggie objected.

Bruce considered. "All right. Come with us, then. I'll just change the reservation for three." Selina nodded her agreement.

After some argument, Maggie gave in with obvious reluctance and went to change into something more suitable. She reappeared momentarily in her modified habit, a simple outfit consisting of short veil, white blouse, and black skirt and stockings with sensible shoes. Around her neck she wore a large crucifix.

The three of them had lunch at a restaurant popular with the 'in' crowd, attracting a few curious glances from society types who wondered what Bruce Wayne was doing in the company of a nun and a former cat burglar. One of the women Bruce had dated briefly tossed her head with a loud sniff as she passed by the table.

Maggie spent most of the meal watching Bruce and Selina closely, noting the obvious physical attraction as well as the way they interacted. She found Bruce very charming, and she definitely approved of the way he looked at her sister. She was beginning to suspect why Selina mentioned him so often in her letters, probably without realising she was doing it.

Later, at home, she couldn't resist calling Selina on it, although she knew what her reaction would be.

"We're just friends, I've told you that before," Selina protested. "Good friends, yes, but it's strictly platonic."

"It didn't look all that platonic," grinned Maggie.

"Oh, what would you know about it, Sister Magdalene?" snapped Selina.

She calmed down with uncharacteristic speed when she saw the hurt look on Maggie's face, then she took a deep breath and apologised, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on her arm. They were barely a year apart in age, and they had been close all their lives. Maggie was one of the few people Selina would let get close to her, and one of the few she couldn't bear to hurt.

"Sorry," she whispered. "It's kind of a sore point. Bruce is one of my best friends, but that's all it can be. The one time I let myself think maybe it could ever be anything else, it blew up in both our faces. I don't want that to happen again."

Maggie gave her a questioning look. "What happened?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

Selina paced back and forth in silence for a long time, but she finally answered. "We decided to have a picnic last year, and I got caught up in the moment and let him kiss me. It just felt right. But the next thing I knew he lost control and was telling me how he'd been in love with me from the first time we met, promising to tell me all his secrets, and saying how happy we could make each other. Then he asked me to marry him...and I panicked. We didn't see each other for months after that."

"That's awful!"

"It's awful, but it's in the past now, and I want to leave it buried. Especially since we're both just getting over painful relationships. Bruce has come to his senses and just wants to be friends, and I think I'm going to do what I said I would years ago and give up the whole relationship thing. I'm no good at it."

There were so many things Maggie wanted to say to her, but she knew her sister well enough to know all of them would be wrong. So she just shook her head silently, resolving to add one more prayer to her nightly list.