Gotham City, outside Jim Gordon's home

[oracle_watching]

"No, honey, you stay here and keep the motor running--I'll get Dad," Babs insists to her husband, activating the wheelchair lift before he can demur. Moments later, she is knocking on her father's front door.

Comments

[gothamflatfoot]

The door to his flat opens and Jim Gordon is standing before her in the garb he is so notorious for, even the threadbare trenchcoat for which he continues to refuse replacement.

"Hi, Princess. You know, you could have just buzzed and I could have come down." He leans over and gives her a firm hug, "Dick waiting int he car?"

[oracle_watching]

"Yes." She hugs him back, reveling in the ability to do so after feeling so ungainly in her last trimester. "He offered to come up here himself, but I told him I could manage it."

[gothamflatfoot]

"Well of course you can manage it. I didn't hassle the jerks who own this place about putting that chair lift in for nothing. It's good to have friends in pretty much every office of the city. All it took was a little comment about how the city would want to be informed about the lack of accessability. Lift was installed the next day." Gordon laughs, "Shall we go?"

[oracle_watching]

She can't hold back the laughter. "Exercising your clout, huh? For me?" Babs takes her dad's hand and squeezes it gratefully. "Yeah, c'mon--let's go."

[gothamflatfoot]

"Oh, what the heck. Let's just all go together. I haven't seen Dick in a while anyway and it'll be nice to hear what he's been up to. Why doesn't he just park the car and we'll all go together. Parking's a bit easier here than at the restaurant."

[_nightwing_]

Dick leans over from the driver's seat, and nods a greeting to Barbara's father as the window rolls down.

Evening, Mr. Gordon.

[gothamflatfoot]

"Hello, Dick. Good to see you. I was telling Babs that parking's easier here so I suggest we leave the car here. If that's ok with you two."

[_nightwing_]

He looks briefly to Barbara, then nods.

Sure.

It only takes a few moments to do just that as he secures the vehicle and joins them on the sidewalk, pulling on his jacket.

At the restaurant

[_nightwing_]

It doesn't take long for them to be seated. They get the usual second looks from other diners - nothing they're not used to. Dick fidgets with the silverware, the menu sitting at his elbow. It's a typical nervous gesture, but not for the reasons one might think. Old habits die hard.

Re: At the restaurant

[oracle_watching]

"So ... Dad....." Babs is almost as fidgety as her husband. "Um, I've tried to figure out ways to say this but ... I've been offered a cutting-edge treatment that could restore some of the function in my legs."

She tenses, waiting to see how he'll respond.

Re: At the restaurant

[gothamflatfoot]

He arches his eyebrow, "cutting-edge treatment? You do know that in my former line of work those can be pretty scary words. Do you know how many crazies I tracked down who's careers started with them being the subject of a 'cutting edge treatment?" He eyes her, seeing if she knows he's kidding. When he's sure she didn't take him seriously he continues, "I love you, princess. I love you in a chair and I love you on your own two feet. Walking might be kinda nice but it's got nothing to do with me and everything to do with the risks you're willing to subject yourself to. You've got more than just you to consider now. How cutting edge are we talking?"

Re: At the restaurant

[oracle_watching]

"Not a miracle cure," she says decisively. One thing I don't have to lie about. "I'd still need a cane to walk, and I'd have to make sure I don't overdo it." Now for the lie. "Dad, you know Wayne Industries has a medical arm...."