FIC: The Staccato Sound of Typing (MotS)
Title: The Staccato Sound of Typing
Pairing/Characters: Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Superman, Batman
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: A stand-alone story in the series "Music of the Spheres." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: G
Summary: A night in the life of Barbara Gordon at eight years old.
Word Count: 1,800
Junior Gordon's keyboard rattled under her fingers as she worked. The smell of boiling cabbage filled the air, and outside the little apartment the monorail rattled by with a roaring whoosh again. She sighed at the time it took a page to load and patted Goldie's side reassuringly. It had been more than a year since the Wayne Foundation had bought every Gotham policeman's kid a brand new computer, which meant Goldie was practically an antique now. But realistically, Junior knew she might have to last through high school. She shuddered at the thought. If she saved her allowance for a while, maybe she could upgrade the memory at least.
She ran her fingers lightly across the keyboard. She loved this computer so much, the more so because she had never expected it. She had explained to her third-grade class during show and tell that she had named her new computer "Heart of Gold" because her getting it was infinitely improbable. Her classmates hadn't gotten the reference. Neither had her teacher.
But then, Junior was used to that.
"Barbara!" Her mother's voice was harried. "Come keep an eye on your brother while I cook, would you?"
Barbara went into the kitchen and scooped her drooling baby brother up. "I'll keep him in my room, 'kay?"
"Just make sure you get all those models off the floor. I don't want him eating some chunk of plastic from one of your robot thingies."
Back in her room, Junior deposited James on a clear spot on the floor. "Here," she said, "You can play with this." She handed him her Cthulhu plushie, making a mental note to wash it after he'd finished chewing on it, then turned back to the computer.
There was a message from one of her friends, Gothamgirl241, flashing. {{Pythia! There's a new one! The video's up at the page now!}}
Another already! Junior rushed to www.darkknight.com, logging in as "Pythia." On the front page was an embedded Youtube video. Junior felt the familiar rush of excitement--another so soon! The last one was only three months ago! She hoped the gang was ready for this one.
The video finished loading and Junior leaned forward in her chair to watch it. It was muddy, probably taken from someone's cell phone, but the audio was clear enough.
"You don't listen. You never listen." The rasping voice carried well across the rooftops to both the cell phone and the ears of the hovering Kryptonian, who crossed his arms and frowned.
"Trouble doesn't recognize city limits, Dark Knight. Someday, when you need my help--"
"What? You won't be here to hold my hand?" Batman scoffed. "As if I'd ask you for help. Gotham takes care of her own. Go someplace you're needed."
In her bedroom, Junior clenched her fist and whispered, "Yes." James gurgled and continued to try and chew Cthulhu's head off.
"And if I don't?" The alien's voice was haughty.
"Let's just say Im not unprepared." Batman reached into a pocket and drew out something, brandishing it in front of him. Superman moved abruptly in the air, his cape fluttering, shock on his face. Batman continued, "Consider this Plan B. Plan A is you stay the hell away from my city. You don't want to know Plan C."
Superman tossed back his head, sneering slightly, the shock wiped away. "You win for tonight, vigilante." He floated backward, glaring at Batman, then blurred slightly and was gone. Batman swiveled in turn and vanished into the shadows.
Junior grinned and hugged herself. Oh, Kryptonia was going to have puppies over this one! She hurried to get caught up on the message boards, checking to confirm that video enhancement had indeed revealed Batman had been brandishing some kind of green mineral. He'd found some of that stuff that could stop Superman! Not that he'd ever use it, Junior was sure, but just knowing he had it, that he had outwitted the alien, gave her a warm feeling.
She rolled her eyes to discover that Kryptonia and Janejane were already on the Dark Knight message boards, bragging that Superman had shown up Batman once again. "Honestly," Junior expostulated to James, who wasn't really listening, "Did they even watch the same video? Crazy Superman fangirls." Gothamgirl241 and Dark_Mike were embroiled in other threads and doing well already. Damn, she had missed at least ten minutes of debate.
Goldie's keyboard started rattling furiously. Pythia was having none of this nonsense. Curtly and with devastating logic, she demolished the other arguments. No, Batman was not a lunatic. He was pragmatic. The argument that Pythia was a human chauvinist was specious--she wasn't arguing that Superman couldn't be trusted because he wasn't human, she was arguing that he couldn't be trusted because he was just too powerful. Too much power concentrated in one being was never for the best--hadn't the lessons of Nazi Germany taught us anything?
Junior contemplated that last argument for a while after she posted it. Then she logged out and logged back in as Psychebutterfly. Psychebutterfly responded to Pythia, stating quite reasonably that there was no need to go dragging the Nazis into this. Pythia should cut people like Janejane and Kryptonia a little more slack. Obviously they all had the best interests of humanity in mind, they just disagreed on the best methods. Comparing Superman to Hitler wasn't going to help matters at all. Couldn't they all just get along?
Junior watched the video one more time, peering closely at it and shoving her glasses up on her nose. At about the point where Batman revealed the rock--they were calling it Kryptonite now--she paused to look at Superman's face more closely. Police sirens wailed somewhere nearby and she tensed for a moment, then forced herself to relax with an air of long practice.
Something soft and damp hit the back of her head. She turned around to see James grinning triumphantly. "Nice aim, slugger," Junior muttered, retrieving the doll.
"Ba-Ba," James said happily as she handed the toy back, and she took a moment to tickle his chubby stomach, her mind still half on the video.
"Barbara, supper's ready! Bring your brother," her mother called. Barbara gathered up James and went to the kitchen for dinner.
She was still eating when her mother waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Honestly, Barbara, you're not even here half the time, I swear."
"Huh?" Barbara wasn't sure what she'd been thinking of, she'd just been listening to the monorail rumbling by, to the sounds of the city all around her: stray cats, garbage cans rattling, a fight next door, footsteps on the stairs--she brightened as the door swung open and her father entered the apartment.
"I'm not too late for supper, great," Jim Gordon said wearily and sat down to eat. "How was school, Junior?"
"Not bad. We studied long division today."
Gordon grimaced. "You're studying algebra on your own."
"I know. But...long division's fun in a way, too." Barbara shrugged. It was even true, if you looked at it right.
Her mother and father traded small talk about the day, discussed an ear infection James was battling...and then Gordon cleared his plate and headed for the door.
"Oh dear, you don't have to go back, do you?" His wife's voice was plaintive.
Gordon smiled a little. "I'm lucky to get enough time to make it home and check in with you." He kissed his wife, then kissed Barbara on top of the head as she stared down at her plate. "Be a good girl," he said, and was gone again. He hadn't even had time to take off his coat.
Junior closed the door to her bedroom slowly. Her spirits rose as she checked her inbox, however: a nice email from Kryptonia to Psychebutterfly, thanking her for being reasonable and defending her from that bitch Pythia. Junior grinned and cracked her knuckles triumphantly. Then she frowned and pulled up the video again, watching it very carefully.
She paused on Superman's face at the moment Batman had pulled out the mineral. He seemed startled, almost frightened, and yet...something seemed off, somehow. It might be impossible to judge alien nonverbals, but the more Junior stared at that cold face, the more certain she was that Superman wasn't frightened at all at that moment. She didn't have any logical basis for it, just a hunch, a weird certainty in the pit of her stomach.
Why wouldn't Superman be afraid?
The Super Squad over in Metropolis would say it's because he knew he could mop the floor with Batman, but Junior dismissed that theory out of hand. She still couldn't come up with a better one, though, which made her gnaw her lip thoughtfully. Had Superman already known Batman had that Kryptonite? Did the alien already have counter-measures planned? That sounded ominous. Not that Batman wouldn't have counter-counter-measures already in place, of course, but still...unnerving.
With the ease of long practice, Junior converted the video from Youtube and stored a copy in her folder marked "BxS." Then back to the front lines on the message boards, bouncing between different personae, building people up and breaking them down where it seemed best.
Eventually she rubbed her eyes and found herself yawning. She had wanted to study Russian some more tonight, but the video had to be first priority. Blearily, she turned Goldie off. "Sleep tight," she said as she always did.
She changed and crawled into bed, the black and yellow sheets comfortable and warm. She ran her hand over the bat-symbol on the fleece coverlet, feeling the texture of the clipped wool beneath her palms, brushing across it over and over like a talisman. Her mind was still racing with theories, plans, ideas, concepts tumbling across her brain like a kaleidoscope. Hidden underneath the ordered chaos of reasoned thought, buried deeper (but not deep enough), the other thoughts still lurked:
Would Gothamgirl and Dark_Mike still like her and respect her if they knew she was only eight years old?
Was she really a "spooky little freak," like Judd Harlow said the other day?
How long was it until her father didn't come home at all one night?
She kept running her hands over the symbol. It covered her heart. It protected her.
Eventually she fell asleep.
Pairing/Characters: Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Superman, Batman
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: A stand-alone story in the series "Music of the Spheres." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: G
Summary: A night in the life of Barbara Gordon at eight years old.
Word Count: 1,800
Junior Gordon's keyboard rattled under her fingers as she worked. The smell of boiling cabbage filled the air, and outside the little apartment the monorail rattled by with a roaring whoosh again. She sighed at the time it took a page to load and patted Goldie's side reassuringly. It had been more than a year since the Wayne Foundation had bought every Gotham policeman's kid a brand new computer, which meant Goldie was practically an antique now. But realistically, Junior knew she might have to last through high school. She shuddered at the thought. If she saved her allowance for a while, maybe she could upgrade the memory at least.
She ran her fingers lightly across the keyboard. She loved this computer so much, the more so because she had never expected it. She had explained to her third-grade class during show and tell that she had named her new computer "Heart of Gold" because her getting it was infinitely improbable. Her classmates hadn't gotten the reference. Neither had her teacher.
But then, Junior was used to that.
"Barbara!" Her mother's voice was harried. "Come keep an eye on your brother while I cook, would you?"
Barbara went into the kitchen and scooped her drooling baby brother up. "I'll keep him in my room, 'kay?"
"Just make sure you get all those models off the floor. I don't want him eating some chunk of plastic from one of your robot thingies."
Back in her room, Junior deposited James on a clear spot on the floor. "Here," she said, "You can play with this." She handed him her Cthulhu plushie, making a mental note to wash it after he'd finished chewing on it, then turned back to the computer.
There was a message from one of her friends, Gothamgirl241, flashing. {{Pythia! There's a new one! The video's up at the page now!}}
Another already! Junior rushed to www.darkknight.com, logging in as "Pythia." On the front page was an embedded Youtube video. Junior felt the familiar rush of excitement--another so soon! The last one was only three months ago! She hoped the gang was ready for this one.
The video finished loading and Junior leaned forward in her chair to watch it. It was muddy, probably taken from someone's cell phone, but the audio was clear enough.
"You don't listen. You never listen." The rasping voice carried well across the rooftops to both the cell phone and the ears of the hovering Kryptonian, who crossed his arms and frowned.
"Trouble doesn't recognize city limits, Dark Knight. Someday, when you need my help--"
"What? You won't be here to hold my hand?" Batman scoffed. "As if I'd ask you for help. Gotham takes care of her own. Go someplace you're needed."
In her bedroom, Junior clenched her fist and whispered, "Yes." James gurgled and continued to try and chew Cthulhu's head off.
"And if I don't?" The alien's voice was haughty.
"Let's just say Im not unprepared." Batman reached into a pocket and drew out something, brandishing it in front of him. Superman moved abruptly in the air, his cape fluttering, shock on his face. Batman continued, "Consider this Plan B. Plan A is you stay the hell away from my city. You don't want to know Plan C."
Superman tossed back his head, sneering slightly, the shock wiped away. "You win for tonight, vigilante." He floated backward, glaring at Batman, then blurred slightly and was gone. Batman swiveled in turn and vanished into the shadows.
Junior grinned and hugged herself. Oh, Kryptonia was going to have puppies over this one! She hurried to get caught up on the message boards, checking to confirm that video enhancement had indeed revealed Batman had been brandishing some kind of green mineral. He'd found some of that stuff that could stop Superman! Not that he'd ever use it, Junior was sure, but just knowing he had it, that he had outwitted the alien, gave her a warm feeling.
She rolled her eyes to discover that Kryptonia and Janejane were already on the Dark Knight message boards, bragging that Superman had shown up Batman once again. "Honestly," Junior expostulated to James, who wasn't really listening, "Did they even watch the same video? Crazy Superman fangirls." Gothamgirl241 and Dark_Mike were embroiled in other threads and doing well already. Damn, she had missed at least ten minutes of debate.
Goldie's keyboard started rattling furiously. Pythia was having none of this nonsense. Curtly and with devastating logic, she demolished the other arguments. No, Batman was not a lunatic. He was pragmatic. The argument that Pythia was a human chauvinist was specious--she wasn't arguing that Superman couldn't be trusted because he wasn't human, she was arguing that he couldn't be trusted because he was just too powerful. Too much power concentrated in one being was never for the best--hadn't the lessons of Nazi Germany taught us anything?
Junior contemplated that last argument for a while after she posted it. Then she logged out and logged back in as Psychebutterfly. Psychebutterfly responded to Pythia, stating quite reasonably that there was no need to go dragging the Nazis into this. Pythia should cut people like Janejane and Kryptonia a little more slack. Obviously they all had the best interests of humanity in mind, they just disagreed on the best methods. Comparing Superman to Hitler wasn't going to help matters at all. Couldn't they all just get along?
Junior watched the video one more time, peering closely at it and shoving her glasses up on her nose. At about the point where Batman revealed the rock--they were calling it Kryptonite now--she paused to look at Superman's face more closely. Police sirens wailed somewhere nearby and she tensed for a moment, then forced herself to relax with an air of long practice.
Something soft and damp hit the back of her head. She turned around to see James grinning triumphantly. "Nice aim, slugger," Junior muttered, retrieving the doll.
"Ba-Ba," James said happily as she handed the toy back, and she took a moment to tickle his chubby stomach, her mind still half on the video.
"Barbara, supper's ready! Bring your brother," her mother called. Barbara gathered up James and went to the kitchen for dinner.
She was still eating when her mother waved a hand in front of her eyes. "Honestly, Barbara, you're not even here half the time, I swear."
"Huh?" Barbara wasn't sure what she'd been thinking of, she'd just been listening to the monorail rumbling by, to the sounds of the city all around her: stray cats, garbage cans rattling, a fight next door, footsteps on the stairs--she brightened as the door swung open and her father entered the apartment.
"I'm not too late for supper, great," Jim Gordon said wearily and sat down to eat. "How was school, Junior?"
"Not bad. We studied long division today."
Gordon grimaced. "You're studying algebra on your own."
"I know. But...long division's fun in a way, too." Barbara shrugged. It was even true, if you looked at it right.
Her mother and father traded small talk about the day, discussed an ear infection James was battling...and then Gordon cleared his plate and headed for the door.
"Oh dear, you don't have to go back, do you?" His wife's voice was plaintive.
Gordon smiled a little. "I'm lucky to get enough time to make it home and check in with you." He kissed his wife, then kissed Barbara on top of the head as she stared down at her plate. "Be a good girl," he said, and was gone again. He hadn't even had time to take off his coat.
Junior closed the door to her bedroom slowly. Her spirits rose as she checked her inbox, however: a nice email from Kryptonia to Psychebutterfly, thanking her for being reasonable and defending her from that bitch Pythia. Junior grinned and cracked her knuckles triumphantly. Then she frowned and pulled up the video again, watching it very carefully.
She paused on Superman's face at the moment Batman had pulled out the mineral. He seemed startled, almost frightened, and yet...something seemed off, somehow. It might be impossible to judge alien nonverbals, but the more Junior stared at that cold face, the more certain she was that Superman wasn't frightened at all at that moment. She didn't have any logical basis for it, just a hunch, a weird certainty in the pit of her stomach.
Why wouldn't Superman be afraid?
The Super Squad over in Metropolis would say it's because he knew he could mop the floor with Batman, but Junior dismissed that theory out of hand. She still couldn't come up with a better one, though, which made her gnaw her lip thoughtfully. Had Superman already known Batman had that Kryptonite? Did the alien already have counter-measures planned? That sounded ominous. Not that Batman wouldn't have counter-counter-measures already in place, of course, but still...unnerving.
With the ease of long practice, Junior converted the video from Youtube and stored a copy in her folder marked "BxS." Then back to the front lines on the message boards, bouncing between different personae, building people up and breaking them down where it seemed best.
Eventually she rubbed her eyes and found herself yawning. She had wanted to study Russian some more tonight, but the video had to be first priority. Blearily, she turned Goldie off. "Sleep tight," she said as she always did.
She changed and crawled into bed, the black and yellow sheets comfortable and warm. She ran her hand over the bat-symbol on the fleece coverlet, feeling the texture of the clipped wool beneath her palms, brushing across it over and over like a talisman. Her mind was still racing with theories, plans, ideas, concepts tumbling across her brain like a kaleidoscope. Hidden underneath the ordered chaos of reasoned thought, buried deeper (but not deep enough), the other thoughts still lurked:
Would Gothamgirl and Dark_Mike still like her and respect her if they knew she was only eight years old?
Was she really a "spooky little freak," like Judd Harlow said the other day?
How long was it until her father didn't come home at all one night?
She kept running her hands over the symbol. It covered her heart. It protected her.
Eventually she fell asleep.