Night of the Bat part 4
Scene: Stately Wayne Manor – evening
Jim Gordon, Leslie Tompkins, and Barbara Gordon are seated in the lounge / library after a light dinner.
"Would anyone like a drink?" Bruce offered, startling Barbara. Wouldn't Alfred be responsible for that? She wondered silently.
"A nice cold domestic beer would be nice." Jim replied, in a vain attempt to relax. "Do you have any common, chilled, white wine, Bruce?" Leslie responded.
"I'll have a cold beer." Barbara answered hopefully. Jim snickered. "Nice try, honey." He pretended to give her a stern look. "I assume that you mean an iced tea or cola." Alfred grinned playfully at the precocious teen. "Um, a cola will be fine. Thanks." Barbara corrected as Bruce laughed quietly.
Barbara shifted in her seat awkwardly as she glanced around the huge room, taking in every detail. The fireplace was lit with a bare minimum amount of flame, the large stone mantle surrounding it was devoid of any decoration save for a simple nine by twelve picture of young Bruce standing between what Barbara assumed was his mother and father.
Above the fireplace mantle was a huge, nearly life-size professional portrait of Thomas Wayne. Barbara's keen, sharp eyes read the plated inscription beneath the expensive looking frame. On a hunch, she glanced across the room and picked out an equally large professional portrait of Martha Wayne, Bruce's mother. Her painting was placed on the wall of a second tier to the room, below a single staircase. The portrait was hung perfectly at eye level for all who passed by to see.
By now, Alfred had returned stealthily with the drinks. As Barbara thanked him and placed it on the ebony coffee table before her, Bruce suddenly reached beneath the table and flipped a bag of snacks at her. "Cheesy Pops?" He asked as the bag sailed through the air. She neatly plucked the bag out of the air with one hand. "Thank you." Bruce looked at her with approval. 'Nice reaction time.' He mentally praised. She certainly has good manners, great reflex time, and a pleasant demeanor, Bruce analyzed.
Alfred handed Bruce a crystal rock glass and returned to his after dinner duties. Barbara noted the smell of his drink as Alfred had passed her, and identified it as some type of common brandy. She observed that Bruce's glass was barely half full, and wondered how much the billionaire actually drank. His reputation as a wealthy trust fund party boy didn't seem to make any sense to her. Just making quick judgments, she believed that the party boy rep may have been some type of propaganda or fake celebrity news. She popped open the snack bag, lost in thought.
"What's on your mind, Jim?" Bruce asked, noting that his friend appeared to be struggling with some specific subject. "You don't miss a clue, do you Bruce?" Chief Gordon grinned sheepishly. "You look like someone with something important on your mind." Bruce deadpanned. "Let me get right to it, then." Jim began, sighing heavily. "How should I put this?" He rubbed his square chin.
"What Jim is trying to say is…" Leslie interrupted. "We have given it a lot of thought, and we were wondering if you would be interested in sponsoring Barbara. We'd like to hear your take on it."
"Wait! What?" Barbara said as she flashed back to attention. Bruce snapped his fingers. "Oh! Of course! Wayne Foundation has many such scholarships available for enterprising young students." He added: "You understand that legally I can't show any favoritism to young Barbara. She'll have to work at it and earn the scholarship like any other student." He reminded them.
Jim nodded. "I'd expect nothing less from you or her." He stated. Bruce pulled out an unusual looking SMART phone and fingered through some screens. "I can let you know when the next round of scholarships are being made available, and I can give you a heads up when Barbara needs to study something specific relating to them. The rest will be up to her." He concluded.
"That's fair enough." Leslie agreed. She glanced at Barbara whose mouth was now agape. "Dad!" She finally exclaimed, turning red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry that I haven't had the time to discuss this at length with you, honey." Jim apologized.
"Now before you get upset." Leslie began as she faced Barbara. "Jim and I agreed to allow you to determine your own destiny. Your biological mother also agreed in principle to this plan. Mr. Wayne sponsors many student scholarships, so you're not being given any special treatment." She finished.
Barbara was struck silent. Clearly they had given this a lot of thought, she observed. Leslie and her father were certainly on the same page, she considered. They had already predicted all of her protestations. Barbara sighed in resignation. "Sure. I'll give it a try." She conceded. "But I get to choose my own major." Jim agreed. "Fair enough." He stated.
Bruce was impressed with Barbara's level of maturity, despite facing all of the problems being raised by a single parent, and had only recently learned who her true father was. By now, as Batman, he'd looked into Barbara's background, and of course he couldn't tell Jim Gordon that fact, at this stage in their relationship. The Batman had been only created by him a few years ago.
There was an awkward silence. "Say, Barbara, would you like Alfred to give you a quick tour of the mansion?" Bruce asked warily. Barbara allowed a scowl to pass across her face quickly. Translation: 'The adults need to talk about you, get lost.' She thought cynically. "Sure. Thanks." She replied shortly. Alfred had been dusting an old multicolored vase which happened to be just within earshot of the conversation. He took his queue and straightened his dinner jacket smartly.
"Certainly, Master Bruce." The pleasant manservant answered. "This way, Miss Barbara." He added. She had just finished her cheesy pops and reluctantly got up and followed Alfred back towards the kitchen. The two of them walked across the checkerboard floor of Stately Wayne Manor's Great Room.
The Great Room was very impressive, though it seemed unnecessarily dark and unused to her. She could imagine grand dinner parties held in the manor's past. She pictured young Thomas Wayne and his bride Martha, dancing and spinning across the floor wearing the formal clothing of the time.
"You have something else to discuss, Jim?" Bruce prodded. "Yes. I'm afraid so, Bruce." Jim hesitated before responding. "You're worried that young Barbara will get in the way of your career?" The young billionaire fished. "I wouldn't have put it quite that way, Bruce, but yes." Jim finally admitted.
"That sounds so awful, Bruce." Leslie whined. "Yet, to some degree it's true. What must you think of us, and further, what must Barbara think of us?" Young Bruce Wayne rubbed his squared jaw, lost in thought. "She's too old for daycare or babysitters, or even a nanny. I would say that you should just trust her, as she seems like she has a good head on her shoulders." Bruce praised.
"I do trust her to some degree." Jim began, adding: "I'm far more worried about Barbara becoming a victim, either living in our neighborhood in Gotham, or one of my literally hundreds of enemies could exact revenge against me using her. Leslie and I even considered quitting our jobs, and investing in another career. I seriously contemplated that, Bruce." Jim concluded solemnly.
"Gotham can't afford to lose your leadership, Jim." Bruce complemented him. "I've noticed some change after your efforts to clean up the cesspool that is Gotham. Some of the populace is finding a renewed faith in the Gotham City Police Department. I've read some praiseworthy articles about you in the local press. The people that run in my circles are considering neighborhood reinvestment since you've taken the Chief position. The bigger picture for you is a vision for a reinvigorated Gotham."
"Thanks Bruce, but the GCPD owes a lot to the Batman for supporting us and helping out." Jim commented. "I guess it's up to me, then." Leslie sorrowfully shook her head. "I can give up my career for a few years to make sure that Barbara stays on the straight and narrow."
"Leslie, didn't you just accept a post at Arkham Asylum recently?" Bruce queried. She nodded. "Yes, actually I accepted the position of Chief Counselor, but with the new brass taking over running the facility everyone's jobs could be on the line. Dr. Hugo Strange and Harleen Quinn are assuming the responsibilities of Arkham's day to day duties. As the last in the door, I could be on the chopping block."
"Jim, isn't there a type of minor adoption program called 'Ward of the State'? I'm not familiar with the legal jargon, but could that be a way to go with Barbara?" Bruce shocked them into silence. "I guess so." Jim said after he'd gotten over the initial surprise of Bruce's remark. "I don't want to simply give up Barbara, and put her into the system. That's another block of rampant corruption within Gotham. Besides, the phrase 'Ward of the State' usually applies to a minor whose parents have died, and there are no surviving, responsible relatives available."
"Why? Did you want to adopt Barbara?" Leslie smirked as she taunted Bruce, simply to get a rise out of him. "That would be sort of inappropriate." Bruce responded sheepishly. Jim laughed. "Yeah, and Barbara doesn't strike me as the wealthy socialite princess type, no offense, Bruce." He brushed his lengthy hair from above his eyes. "None taken. No she really doesn't." Bruce agreed.
Barbara and Alfred slowly ascended the easternmost staircase towards the second floor. The teen went over every inch of the foreboding, dimly lit hallway with an eagle eye. "It's clean. I'll give you that, Alfred." She praised blandly.
"Thank you, Miss Barbara." The elder gentleman's voice lowered conspiratorially. "I'm glad it meets with your approval." He waved grandly at the sparsely decorated walls that to Barbara seemed to have been created nearly one hundred years ago. "Does Mr. Wayne have a girlfriend?" She startled Alfred with her directness. "Um, no, not at present." He replied. Alfred briefly recalled Bruce's failed relationships with various collegiate socialite girls, and the mysterious and frankly dangerous, Selina Kyle.
"I'm just sayin', no offense, but the place could use a woman's touch. Like I said, it's clean, but it lacks any warmth or cheerfulness. You could use more lighting sconces, and decorative brightly colored art pieces or something." Barbara critiqued. "I shall keep that under advisement." Alfred replied dryly. He was suddenly taking a liking to the teen. She reminded him of his niece, who was currently enrolled in a wealthy college in Britain. Alfred and his brother had vowed to make sure that she was highly educated.
Barbara walked towards a locked room. "Can we look in here?" She asked politely. Alfred frowned. "Okay. Just a peek. Master Wayne doesn't really allow many visitors to the upstairs, and the truth be told, doesn't allow many visitors in general." He reached into his pocket any pulled out an old fashioned spiral key ring, upon which were attached six old metal keys. He located the appropriate one and unlocked the large oak door. The door creaked open, and revealed a dimly lit room.
The room had some furniture within it. Barbara glanced at every detail that she could muster, given that she'd had to strain her eyes to peer into the semidarkness. There was an old white desk and chair, with a large mirror above it, an old bed with a paisley colored bedspread upon it, two old reddish brown chairs near the overly large bedroom window, and two bookcases filled with musty smelling books.
All of the furniture and bookcases were covered with transparent plastic dust cloths. The carpeting, maroon and gold in color, had been recently vacuumed, despite the fact that it was obvious to Barbara that the room was not currently being used. One bookcase featured a shelf with only framed photographs displayed on it. Some clothes were visible through an open closet door. The clothes were certainly from a female. There were several dresses also encased in plastic hung neatly on a rack.
Barbara gulped as she realized that she was peering into the distant past. "I take it that this all belonged to Martha Wayne." She remarked. "That's correct." Alfred replied. "Master Wayne could never truly part with the items after the loss of his parents. His father's study has been left roughly in stasis as well for the last decade or so. I assume he'll sell the items when he's emotionally ready."
"That will be one hell of a yard sale." Barbara quipped, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Indeed. Is there anything else that you'd like to see Miss Barbara?" Alfred offered politely. "Actually Alfred, not to be morbid or anything, but I'd like to see Mr. Wayne's weapons and armor collection if I could." She answered. Alfred cast her a puzzled glance. "If you insist, but you must promise not to touch anything."
"Agreed." Barbara said. "Thanks Alfred." The two of them descended down the spiral staircase and then turned into another dimly lit corridor just to the left of the Great Hall. Barbara excitedly padded towards the last room in the hallway and patiently waited for Alfred to open the door. She entered cautiously and gasped in amazement at the collection of significant historical weapons and armor.
"Wow!" Young Barbara was astonished at the dozen or so displays place before her in two neat columns that spanned the length of the room. "Samurai, Qing Dynasty, Napoleanic, Medieval, World War I and World War II!" Barbara correctly guessed each weapon and armor period. Alfred was stunned. How could a mere child of sixteen assimilate this specific knowledge? He pondered.
"Miss Barbara, where on Earth did you learn of such specifics?" Alfred pressed. "Why, the Internet of course, Alfred." The teen acknowledged. Barbara walked slowly through the dimly lit room and examined each form of armor and displayed weaponry closely. "I take it you were never one to play with Barbie Dolls." Alfred's dry British wit shone through the conversation.
"That's not really my thing, Alfred." Barbara admitted. "Do you think my dad and Leslie will decide to dump me into a foster home until I'm eighteen?" She asked in a depressed tone. "I should hope not, Miss Barbara, the foster system in America and further, in Gotham, reeks of corruption and abuse." The elderly gentleman sadly pointed out. "Thank you for being honest." Barbara said with a loud sigh.
Back in the library lounge area, Bruce was lost in thought, choosing his next words delicately. "Jim, Leslie, its none of my business, of course, but what if we can all work together to help Barbara." He began, like a true businessman starting some negotiations. "Hear me out." He continued. "If you two decide to enroll Barbara in the Police Academy, or another mostly reputable institution, I would suggest that Alfred and I take her under our wings, so to speak."
"Go ahead." Leslie urged. "I would view Barbara's education using the Wayne Foundation Scholarship as a step in the right direction. Alfred and I can give her some part time work here at Wayne Manor, and the freedom to study without any fear of gang interference, while you two are at work. This is all up to you and Barbara, but we would be willing to try it." Bruce had stunned them into silence.
"Thanks Bruce, that means a lot to me, and I assume Leslie feels the same." Jim finally said. "Would Barbara live here with you and Alfred?" Leslie asked suspiciously. "No. That wouldn't be prudent." Bruce defended. "I would allow her to stay here every day until you get home. I do most of the management of Wayne Enterprises from home. I really only go into Gotham when it's absolutely necessary." He lied. "Either Alfred or I are always here. There are no other servants or cooks."
"It sounds plausible." Jim hedged. "I'll run it by Barbara, but ultimately the decision will be mine. We don't know if she'll go for it." Just then, Alfred and Barbara returned to the discussion. "Dad! Leslie! This place is soooo cool! Can we come back and visit…with Mr. Wayne's permission of course" The excited teen hopped onto a leather recliner near Bruce, who had cast her a sidelong glance. "I guess that you have your answer." Leslie smirked at Jim.
"Barbara will have to work." Bruce attempted to sound stern, failing miserably. "She will have to study well and keep her grades up, and listen to Alfred's every instruction." He added. Barbara's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute, Dad, what just happened?" She shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
"Honey, we have to talk." Jim said with concern.