To Be Family - [James Gordon]

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It was one of the nicer restaurants in Gotham South, it was a four star, and the cheapest cut of steak cost $40. Big Bruno’s was owned by an Italian—Bruno Bressi--who paid off the gangs for protection under the table, not that there was much of a choice; but it always put everyone on edge when the daughter of the Commissioner sat with her back to the wall in the corner circle table in a wheelchair. Barbara had always preferred booths, but ever since the night she lost the ability to use her legs, every action had to be planned, and staying in her wheelchair made her feel more comfortable. The price of the food never worried her, though if her father ever found out where she got the money from, he may lose it. Barbara hadn’t been completely honest with her father, yet she felt like since he forbade her to join the police force, she never has. Constantly though, Barbara thought things evened out since he worked with Batman as well.

She waited quietly, hands folded, looking at the door for her father to walk through. Barbara was prepared for him to be late, he usually is, but it was understandable. Being a cop, you never get out on time, she was conditioned for that. At least the restaurant was close to the station. A waiter stopped by and refilled Barbara’s wine glass, “Oh, be a dear and just leave the bottle.” She said touching his arm to grab his attention, “Trust me, it’s going to be a long night.”

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Late, James Gordon was late for dinner with his daughter again. It had became a common event for James to be late to most events because of his field of work. Police Commissioner of one of the most dangerous cities in the United States was definitely demanding. What made it different from Chicago or New York city is that Gotham was home to some of the most criminally insane. The Batman kept that part of Gotham in check the best he could. However that left the regular crime for people such as Commissioner Gordon. So when the aging policeman arrived at the restaurant his daughter picked, it was a breath of fresh air. He could finally relax. 


Even if it was one of the more expensive places in Gotham, the man didn't exactly agree with the choices of the owner either. What his little girl wanted, that's what he'd go for. That was the important thing. Once James entered the restaurant he was met with silence and forced coughing fits. No one looked him in the eye, everyone tried to ignore his presence. Even if James Gordon being the police commissioner had made crime much better in Gotham, it was still very present. This neighborhood didn't exactly like police being around. The commissioner himself, that was a surprise for a lot of people. It had to be expected though. His daughter  was there. 



"Sorry I'm late, Barb." James said while at the same time trying to remove his trench coat. James set his coat on his chair before sitting down. "You had to pick this place? I can eat for a week for the price of one dinner here." His voice was dry, hoarse. A smile followed, James Gordon was just happy to be spending time with his daughter.

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Barbara was already tipsy. She had been here for nearly an hour, and the Irish in her wanted to say she could drink everyone under the table, but holding herself from making a horrible wheelchair joke and only being half a woman, she couldn't hold her liquor. She couldn't help herself, it was sweet. And expensive. And almost half gone. Barbara's face lit up as she saw her father walk through the door, and nearly got up to greet him, only to realize that she couldn't leave her chair. Maybe it was best to lay off the wine for a bit.

"Don't worry about the check, daddy. I got it." Barbara smiled and cocked her head, "Order whatever you like, and don't try to get the cheapest thing on the menu. Trust me, I'll know." Not only did Barbara want her father to enjoy himself, she didn't want the bill to hang over his head. After all this was her idea... and the mob's money. Not that anyone else knew, but it gave her great pleasure to have that in the back of her head. She did have a contingency plan if he questioned her about the money. It was a lie, but she had no other way to defuse him if it came to it. She didn't like lying to him.

The redhead picked up her menu, which she had been looking at for quite some time, "Think I'm going to have the Spicy Bucatini all'Amatriciana... it just looks good." Barbara mused, looking to call the waiter.

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James peered over the menu, hardly anything stood out to him. It was either chocked full of spices to the point where it ruined the natural taste of the meat or it was too expensive. The man didn't like that this place was so expensive and also had mob ties. Of course that made sense, the prices had to be hiked up so the owner could hope to make just a small profit. "Everything is just so expensive these days. It's a wonder these non chains manage to stay open." After looking over the entire menu a total of three times front to back, James found something that would have to work. It was just plain meal of steak and potatoes. 

 
Gordon then proceeded to raise his hand and wave down the waiter. The skinny young man approached the table, noticeably nervous by being in the vicinity of the Police Commissioner in Gotham. "Are you two ready to order?" The kid asked, looking at everywhere and everyone except James and his daughter. 


"Hm, yes I'll have the 8oz Sirloin. I'll also take a glass of bourbon. Neat." The waiter jotted down what Gordon ordered before turning to Barbara. 


"And for you?"

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Barbara leaned in close, to her dad, still buzzed from her drink, and smiled, “Live a little,” she said and turned to the waiter to correct him, “he’ll take a 20oz top sirloin, medium rare. And I’ll do the Spice Bucatini all’Amatriciana, and just keep the wine coming.” Looking satisfied with her order the waiter finished writing in the order and walked away, promising he’d be back soon with another bottle and the commissioner’s drink.

The redhead smiled and felt a little naughty ordering a bigger steak for her father, though if he honestly couldn’t finish it, he’d at least have some great steak to bring back home. She couldn’t help it, being with her father was a privilege these days. With promises of end times coming to Gotham, and a new horizon, it was a wonder they’d get a moment to themselves.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I told you not to get the cheapest thing, dad. I’ve got some money in the bank, I can afford it.” She said, giving a wry look and passing it off with a smile, with the knowledge that the money was from people who really didn’t need all that money. “At least it’s not the Ice Burg Lounge. North Gotham has got it good.” Barbara huffed, in what was a display of justifying her actions.

“So how was your day at the office?” The commissioner’s daughter asked.

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Gordon was flat faced when his daughter ordered for him. To him it was mildly embarrassing but that's who she was. He was proud of his little girl. Although he didn't know what she did to get her so much money. He knew that whatever it was, it was a clean way of earning money. He taught his daughter right, he could take solace in that much. He was just glad to be spending time with his daughter. The life of a police officer, especially that of the Commissioner of the police wasn't all it was shown to be by films/books.

James Gordon did his best. It did seem as though Gordon would trail off into thought at times, the small talk going on in the restaurant was finely tuned out, the only person James could hear was Barbara, his daughter. So the long thought out opinion that his daughter spent money on him and ordered for him. The only thing he could think about is that he was proud. That he did the best he could to raise her and she ended up fairly well.

It seemed like James was silent forever in his head, even though it was only a few minutes.

"You know how that job is." He didn't want to go into detail about how much it got to him at times. He didn't want his daughter knowing that he struggled with his job on a daily basis, but that's what he had to do. Gotham deserved that much, Barbara deserved that much. 

"You don't want to hear about a boring old man's day. Tell me about yours. Whatever you do at with Wayne Tech must pay very well." 

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Barbara scoffed at the idea that she had an interesting job, at least one more interesting than being the chief of police. "Data analyst, and yes, it's as boring as it sounds. Especially for a company that already works like a well-oiled machine. I'm just at the bottom doing micro-management, y’know studying current trends in the business world and making decisions on how the company should be run. I've only seen Mr. Wayne a few times. It does get kinda lonely in the office, though. I guess if it pays well it’s worth it, right?" Barbara in all honesty, was telling the truth. Despite attacking Falcone from the banks, she didn’t like lying to her father. But she did barely see Bruce, and she was doing some data analyst work on the side since she could merely glance at trends and have it memorized. When she finished speaking though, she looked up and realized she was confusing her old man with techno-jargon that didn’t make any sense to her. It would probably be in her best interest to switch the subject.

Even if it was small talk, she knew exactly what was going on, but pretended to be oblivious to the fact that she knew everything that was going on in his life. Call it voyeurism, or even stalking, Barbara was only concerned with her father. She had hacked into all of the GCPD’s MCU building and every other precinct to keep a close eye on her father in the event anything bad were to happen, she could call upon their mutual friend, or creature of the night, for help. She had cameras on the cops at all times, as well as open radio frequencies. Barbara saw and heard everything, all without their knowledge.

Maybe it was best to just make a broad question. She knew that Zuco was back in town, and her dad was going to be on that like white on rice, that was a fact, but it wasn’t something that made the evening news. “I heard about the school shooting in Gotham State.” Barbara said in an attempt to talk about a more lively subject, that or bring up something that was uncomfortable for the both of them. “Just when you think we’ve had it all… did you catch the guy? Or multiple guys? I only caught a bit of it off Gleeson and Ryder.”

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James Gordon listened to his daughter closely, He was glad to hear his daughter was doing good. He constantly worried about her. Ever since that incident with the Joker he watched her as close as he possibly could without her noticing. If it had been up to him, Barbra would have a police detail for twenty-four hours, seven days a week. He'd knew that she would be against it. He also know she'd never let it happen. If they argued about it, she would most likely win. For his daughter, Police Commissioner James Gordon would do anything. She was his weak point, and she was everything to him.


"That's good, I'm really glad you like your job." Gordon replied to his daughter, it wasn't long before she brought his job up. He didn't know how he felt about that, his daughter mentioning what has been going on. He didn't want to sound rude or disconnected but all he wanted was to keep her safe. If she knew about his dealings with organized crime or even the finer details about the university shooting he didn't know how she'd feel. His job wasn't a safe one, but he was an officer of the Gotham City Police Department. Sworn to serve and protect the good citizens of Gotham city. His daughter is the one he wanted to protect the most. Without her he doubted he could do anything. With her he knew he could tackle anything. He would put down any criminal, end any plot. And of course, Having a masked vigilante that swore off killing helped as well. 

"It's a shame. What happened at the university. People that think they can get away with shooting a cop in broad daylight... Those are the people that sicken me." Gordon's voice stayed calm, he was angry about what happened. But the only thing that he could do was bring whoever did it to justice. "I'm sorry Barb, it's probably best I don't give details about such a major case at the dinner table. I'm sorry." Gordon stated with a sigh. Hopefully their food wouldn't take too long to arrive. 

He hated smalltalk.

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"That's alright, daddy. Dont be sorry, I don't mind. You know I've always wanted to be a cop. Well, now I physically can't, but I at least like hearing about it. Oh! In a bit!" Barbara excitedly exclaimed as the food began to come out.

The waiter brought out two large plates, followed by another with a bottle of wine, wrapped in cloth, two glasses, and a glass of Lost Prophet 22 Straight for the commissioner. Barbara wasn't sure if he had ever tried it before, but she merely smiled to herslef that she was the one in control of the dinner; if she couldn't cook for him, she could certainly pay. The waiter warned the two sitting at the table that the plates were hot as he set them down in front of them, the redhead thanked him, then he bowed and told them to hollar if they needed anything.

"I'm sure you'll get them, dad. You always do." The hacker smiled and unfolded her napkin and spread it across her useless legs. Taking out her fork and twirling her pasta into a little ball, she looked up at her father. She shot a confused look at him, was he worrying about her still? "Uhh... dad, are you alright?"

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When the food came out, Gordon wasn't extremely excited or looking forward to this meal. He was glad that he was spending time with his daughter, every moment he got to spend with her he cherished. Just that he never got really excited about eating anymore. He stared at his meal, it smelled good of course, but to the police commissioner any kind of food smelled good. He didn't eat to enjoy himself, he ate to keep going. He ate because he needed to and for energy. That is what was needed. For a moment he was almost tuning Barbara out even. He realized the trouble he had with worrying about Barbara, how he blamed himself for what happened to her. He didn't want to worry her, so he started eating.

"Oh Barbara you know I worry about you. I'm getting old, I won't be around forever. I know you can handle yourself. I just hate the fact that I won't be able to protect my little girl forever." He was honest. Being the police commissioner wasn't exactly a safe job. He did his best to stay alive, to protect Gotham. Someday he knew he'd have to move on. Gotham would have to move on, and Barbara would have to move on. He hated that fact. So tonight, he wouldn't worry anymore about what could happen. He'd worry about the present and do his best to enjoy his time with his daughter. 

It took him a minute, but he managed to shake his feeling of sadness. Enjoying his steak once he started. "Thank you Barbara, this is really nice." He smiled for the first time in what felt like a long time. 

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Barbara began digging into her meal, almost forgetting how nice this restaurant was supposed to be. She wiped her mouth and cut a slice of bread and spread it with butter. Carbohydrates: her one true enemy. Joker? Hah! Joker who? The redhead knew she just had to work this meal off later, but she was starving, and more on the drunken side than the sober side. So choices such as these were fine by her to make. She listened to her father speak of mortality and safety, just like normal, just like every other day. It was something to be understood since he felt like he failed her, like her losing her walking ability was anyone’s fault but by the hands of a madman. Barbara just wanted to have dinner without being serious. She decided to ignore any negativity, “Want to try some of my meatballs? No pun intended?” Wow, that was a horrible joke, but she still giggled to herself. She had to stop drinking.

The hacker again waved off his thanks, and shook her head through a mouthful of the spicy pasta, “No, don’t even think about it. Think of it like Wayne is paying for the meal. He pays me too much for such little work, anyway.” she wanted him to relax in any way she could get him too. The job was certainly getting to the commissioner, and it was showing.

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The man shook his head at the offer of meatballs. "None for me, thank you." They probably had way more spice than the commissioner was used to, or would ever want in something he was eating. He was happy that his daughter tried to bring some light into the situation. It made him enjoy the experience a lot more. He probably only had gotten discouraged at first because he is his own worst enemy. He continued eating his meal, listening to his daughter speak. He was glad that someone like Bruce Wayne knew the value of his daughter. He was happy that she found work, and that she enjoyed what she did.

"I can never understand what it is you do, Barb. A lot of the guys back at the station still think I'm a caveman when it comes to technology." It was true, what he said. He didn't know a whole lot about technology, but he was glad that his daughter liked it. "Care to tell me what you do exactly? It's got to be more interesting than what your boring old dad does." He smiled at his question. For the first time in weeks, he was having a good time. He eagerly awaited whatever his daughter would have to say about her job.

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Poor dad, such a Luddite when it came to computers. He did his best, but he was losing when it came to the arms race at technology. He still had a journal that he wrote in with a pen and ink, the more she thought of it, the more Barbara thought of it like a blog that you can't share. Which just felt weird.

"Well... like I said before," the redhead said through chewing, "I'm a data analyst. I pretty much take a look at the data from other competing companies find out what the trends are in the stock market and see what other companies are doing so we can improve. I make the choices if there are any changes in schedules or holidays, or how everyone works and fits in at Wayne Enterprises. If we are in need of a department or if we need to get rid of a department in the company, then it's pretty much up to me." Despite being verbose, and still reaching for her wine, she didn't want to keep talking about work. Her eyes shifted deviously as she held her glass to her mouth and drank a healthy amount.

"Y'seeing anyone, dad?" She asked as she licked her wine stained lips lest, a drop be wasted on the table cloth.

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James Gordon listened to his daughter speak about her job. He tried to be interested, he really did. The more she spoke though, the less he understood. He didn't really get any of that how or any of it even began to work. He really did enjoy spending time with his daughter though. It was easily on of his favorite things. He noticed that Barbara tried to stop talking about work as soon as possible. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she didn't like her job as he thought she did at first. That didn't matter, hopefully she didn't dislike it too much. Maybe she wanted more out of life than just to work with computers? 

This made him remember when she wanted to be a police officer. It was never in James's best interest to let his daughter go though that. It was way too dangerous, She was meant for great things. To be another badge and gun on the force? It wasn't meant for her. His train of thought was interrupted quickly when she asked if he had been seeing anyone. No was his answer, there wasn't much more that could be explained. "No" He replied, he didn't know what his daughter thought about him not seeing anyone. 

He tried marriage once, it didn't work. His wife left him years ago to Chicago. He was amazed that Barbara chose to stay here, with him. 

"You know love and romance isn't my thing, Barb. What about you? I'm sure you mentioned something before, but refresh my memory. " He was curious if his daughter fancied someone, he didn't remember her talking so much about that. Maybe he just tuned it out. He couldn't stand to think of someone hurting his little girl.

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The cripple shook her head, still wearing a confident smile. Barbara didn’t buy the notion that her father wasn’t the romantic type, there was a reason he had two marriages. Then again, that could possibly be the reason he wasn’t the romantic type, as neither of those panned out. It was a strange feeling, but she lasted longer than any other woman in the commissioner’s life. “No, I don’t have anyone special.” After she said that, she realized just how sorry that phrase was. She had plenty of people in her life that was important to her, but not in the romantic sense. A part of her felt like she was becoming her dad in a lot of ways.

“Although, there’s this guy in Chicago I’m talking to. We do online instant messaging. We just have the same interests.” To be completely honest, though she has been speaking with the online presence known as BEEB, she wasn’t entirely sure if he was even a man or not. It was probably in her best interests to keep the topic short. After all, Barbara didn’t even know his real name.