2013-04-09 - Bat-Chat

It's another night in Gotham, but this one of a flavor with which the city is well familiar. He stands on the roof, his coat moving as the spring breeze whips across. The only lights on the rooftop are the bat signal, pointed towards a passing cloud (which are never hard to find in the seemingly continuously overcast city) and the light of a shielded lighter, illuminating the face of one James Gordon. In the distance, sirens wail, but, though it pains him, the Commissioner knows their contribution for the night is in containment and cleanup, not actually stopping the colorful villain of the evening.

The Signal is responded to. In any case, going to land soundlessly over on the roof is Batgirl. Batman is focused on running down whatever scheme Joker is up to at the moment, and no doubt Nightwing and Robin are assisting or dealing over with whatever the current emergency. And so, as she lands over, she gives a signal over to Gordon, and then taps over her hip, maintaining a radio link wtih Oracle in case it's needed.

Gordon looks over, a glowing cherry of ember on the end of the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a long drag and slips it from his lips, holding it in one hand. He nods to the all but mute. "Any trouble?" he asks, the dark humor of the question touching his tone only slightly, tinged with the weariness of who could and possibly should have retired some time ago.

Cassandra Cain repsonds over in a one word that might otherwise be matching sarcasm right back over with Gordon. If someone who knew her a little better, they might guffaw softly. "Some." She looks over at the sirens, and then responds, "Others handle it." She hopes atthe very least. She'll be on backup.

Jim nods his head, and takes another drag on the cigarette, the tip glowing brightly before being pulled away, the smoke allowed to escape in a sigh through his nose. "Detective work?" he asks, the question sounding half rhetorical.

Cassandra Cain nods over at Gordon, "Yes." Her own methods of beating up every crook she came across until she found one that answered her questions had proven to be less than effective as a use of time. She promises, "Will get him."

"Always do," Gordon agrees, looking out over the city for a few quiet moments, looking tired. "Maybe this time we'll even keep them."

Cassandra Cain nods over at Gordon, somewhat sadly. She undrestands well the man's pain radiating out, that he can't protect his city, and that the same cycle of suffering continues. But he still does his job. In his own way, he's just as iron willed as Batman. Perhapsin his own way even more so. Finally, Batgirl violates the etiquette that goes for such summons, unspoken as it is. Four words then, that might come out of nowhere. "he's proud of you." The 'he' all too obvious.

Gordon gives a brief laugh, a quick exhalation of breath through his nose. He turns to Batgirl. "It's mutual," he says, watching her for a few moments, looking her directly in the eyes, for all that they seem to look through her, past her, with the gaze of long and not always pleasant memory. After a moment, he breaks away, looking off towards the sirens again. "Wish we had his luck with recruitment." He shakes his head, muttering something about height restrictions.

Cassandra Cain meets the gaze. As much as hte faceless mask she wears can do such a thing, and having internally the sense that Gordon is looking through her and into her in much th esame way over that she might him, if not even more deeply. Batgirl quickly changes things now, "What need for?" She means herself, or the Bat, or whatever the direct summons necessitates.

Gordon smiles warmly. "Shouldn't that be the question I'm asking you?" he asks, some humor returning. "It's not always about calling him for a chat," he admits, looking to the custom spotlight. "Sometimes it's just about letting him know he's needed, appreciated." He frowns at the cigarette in his hand for a moment, and drops it, putting the half-smoked stick out with his shoe. "I haven't asked this in a long time, not since the first one, but... where does he find you kids?"

If this were Nightwing, there would be a bit of a joke used to distract from a serious response. if there was Robin, there would be a more serious response but still avoiding the question. If there were Spoiler, there would be a gushing of information on things that might or might not make sense. From Cassandra, ther eis enough of the truth. "Those who might fall." She takes a breath, "He lifts us up."

Gordon stops at that, frozen for a moment, as if startled. He turns then, slowly, and this time, when he meets Batgirl's eyes, he's looking at her, and smiling. "Good answer," he says with a nod. "He need any help?" he asks, turning to face her fully now.

There's a half smile over behind the mask of Batgirl, and she responds, "Often does." Then she adds over, "Too stubborn to accept." That probably would get a full, honest, laugh from Gordon.

Gordon does laugh. It's a quiet thing, more of a chuckle, but it's still distinct from his earlier snort. "I've been at this longer than any of you," he says, tone remarkably similar to what he uses with new recruits, "the trick is to not give him the option to refuse." As if on cue, the door to the roof opens, and Gordon turns to meet the officer. "He's got them cornered. Warehouse district." Gordon nods his head firmly, as much a salute as an acknowledgement. "Send more cars, form a perimeter, and for God's sake, tell the rookies to keep back. Last thing we need is a hostage crisis." With a nod of her own, the officer is gone, and Gordon turns back.

And over on the ground, Batgirl has vanished then. And left over a small computer chip that has a summary of whatever Oracle has been able to track down of Joker's financing so far for Gordon to peruse should he want it. Off in the distance, buildings away, she gives aquiet salute to Gordon, then vanishing in the night.