Barbara looked longingly at the wall. She wondered faintly if anyone would
notice a few marks here and there...a dent that just happened to match a
forehead banging the same spot repeatedly. A sudden shrill piercing scream
made her sigh and wonder exactly who she'd wronged in another life to
deserve this.
Turning her head she looked back at the playpen across the room and the screaming two year old standing inside it. Her son's face was streaked with tears and flushed red from the exertion of screaming nonstop at the top of his lungs.
Babs wheeled herself across the hardwood floor, braking just beside the squared netting. She reached out with a hand to brush a stray lock of black hair out of his eyes. "What's the matter Jymmy? Huh?"
James ignored the gentle tones and the hand that brushed his face and instead let loose with another shriek. He tossed his head back in frusteration as he continued to cry. Why couldn't his mommy understand him? He was making perfect sense.
Barabra's heart just about wrenched itself as she saw James rest his cheek momentarily on the bar of the playpen. It broke her heart to see him so upset, but she was completely bewildered as to what set him off. She had put him down for a nap, said goodbye to Dick, gone into the computer room to get some work done, and then BAM! James woke up screaming.
It was more than a little disconcerting. Jymmy was normally a quiet, happy child. What she saw before her was definately anything BUT a happy child. Certainly not quiet.
She didn't have much longer to ponder this, as James seemed to have gotten a second wind and was winding up for another round of screaming. Glancing around the room quickly she looked for anything to help soothe her young son. Leaning over the edge of her chair she picked up something soft and white.
"Bunny? You want the bunny, Sweetie?" She held the stuffed rabbit out for Jymmy to touch.
There was barely enough time to draw her head back as a white blur catuapulted past her vision. "Ok...don't want the bunny."
She was just looking around for something else when she heard the doorbell ring.
She looked in the direction of the door and back at the screaming child. "Ok, Mommy's going to get the door but I'll be right back sweetie." Trying to give him a reassuring smile (or maybe it was for her...) she undid the brakes and wheeled herself to the front door. Glancing at the security monitor above the door, she saw who it was and nearly sagged in relief. Help had arrived.
Undoing the locks, Babs flung open the door to greet the visitor on the other side, "TIM! Oh thank God your here."
The godsend was standing right outside the door looking a little confused. This was natural. Tim was always confused. At least he was whenever he came over here these days. "Uhh. Hi Babs. Wow...Jymmy sounds really....unhappy."
"Come on in. I know...I was hoping maybe 'Uncle Tim' could do something to help?" She gave a beseeching look at her so-called 'brother-in-law'.
The 19 year old teen wonder grinned, "Sure. Let Uncle Timmy work his magic."
Barabra would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been doing that for the past 15 minutes, and was now afraid they'd be stuck like that.
A few more minutes later and Tim threw his arms up in defeat. About 10 stuffed animals littered the room at various distances, and as tribute to his years of training under the Bat, he'd managed to dodge all but one of those. Dang but the kid had aim.
He managed to make it to the relative safety of the archway leading from the living room to the kitchen and shrugged at Babs. "I tried."
The doorbell rang again and Babs left Tim to answer it while she (relunctantly) wheeled over to the shrill toddler.
Leaving Babs to further attempts to soothe the upset child, Tim sauntered over to the door. Casting a glance at the monitor he all but grinned when he saw who it was. Bruce.
Throwing the door wide he reached out and snagged a trench coated arm of billionaire and yanked him inside his son's domain.
Bruce looked Tim over with a suspicious glare, as he allowed himself to be pulled inside. "Alfred's parking the car, he'll be up in a few moments....What IS that horrible noise?"
Tim crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned causually against a table by the door. "That...is the sound of your grandson, who is apparently VERY upset for reasons unknown."
Bruce looked towards the archway with rather anxious expression. "Oh?"
Tim kept on grinning, "Yup. Bab's has been trying to calm him down for a while now, no go." He brought a hand up to one cheek as his eyes went wide in mock innocence, looking as if an idea just occured to him. "HEY! I know....Since your the worlds greatest detective," he shot Bruce a dazzling smile, "not to mention worlds greatest grandpa, why dont' YOU figure out what's wrong?"
Bruce's subsequent glare did not have the desired effect as his partner burst out laughing, and he turned to stalk through the archway to the living room.
A few moments later, found the great Dark Knight holding a screeching toddler in his arms who was no more mollified now than he was a minute ago. He hated to admit it when he found a dead end, but couldn't for the life of him (or the sake of his hearing) figure out what was wrong with the boy. He'd asked Barbara all the usual questions, which she tolerated with minimal glaring. Yes, she'd tried feeding him, he threw the cup across the room. Yes, she'd tried playing music...he just screamed louder to be heard over it. She'd answered all his questions, and it would appear that no matter what they did James kept crying.
Not long after THAT, Alfred had shown up, letting all three sigh in relief. Surely Alfred would know what to do.
Apparently there's a first time for everything. Not only was Alfred at a loss as to what had James so in a snit, he couldn't seem to think of any remedies that hadn't already been tried. The only thing he'd been able to offer was the wonderful insight of, "If I may say Ms. Barabara, it is fairly apparent that he wants SOMETHING."
The sudden arrival of Dinah and Cass (bearing ice cream gifts no less) did nothing to rectify the situation. In fact James flat out refused any ice cream which set off warning bells in Barbara's head. Could it be that Jymmy was sick?
At such an unsettling notion Alfred excused himself to the kitchen where he could 'ring' Doctor Thompson for her advice. This left five adults in the living room scratching their heads and one crying frusterated toddler in a playpen.
Bruce had just batted away Cass's hand, as she only seemed to be antagonizing the baby by poking him in the arm, when the front door opened. Dick walked into the room and tossed his black BPD bag on the floor by the door, and crossed through the archway.
The crying stopped.
All heads turned toward's Dick as he grinned, walking towards the playpen. Under his arm was a stuffed elephant with a circus cape on it's backed. Obviously it had been dry cleaned...or at least that's what the tag hanging saying, "Kim's Dry Cleaners" told them.
Alfred walked out of the kitchen to gaze in wonder the telephone in his hand forgotten.
Dick Grayson, son of Bruce Wayne Gotham's favorite son and self proclaimed protector of innocents, leaned down to pick up the sniffling child. "Aw." He said as he held his son close, handing over the elephant to it's latest owner. "I guess he wanted his Daddy."
He never saw the barrage of stuffed animals coming.
Turning her head she looked back at the playpen across the room and the screaming two year old standing inside it. Her son's face was streaked with tears and flushed red from the exertion of screaming nonstop at the top of his lungs.
Babs wheeled herself across the hardwood floor, braking just beside the squared netting. She reached out with a hand to brush a stray lock of black hair out of his eyes. "What's the matter Jymmy? Huh?"
James ignored the gentle tones and the hand that brushed his face and instead let loose with another shriek. He tossed his head back in frusteration as he continued to cry. Why couldn't his mommy understand him? He was making perfect sense.
Barabra's heart just about wrenched itself as she saw James rest his cheek momentarily on the bar of the playpen. It broke her heart to see him so upset, but she was completely bewildered as to what set him off. She had put him down for a nap, said goodbye to Dick, gone into the computer room to get some work done, and then BAM! James woke up screaming.
It was more than a little disconcerting. Jymmy was normally a quiet, happy child. What she saw before her was definately anything BUT a happy child. Certainly not quiet.
She didn't have much longer to ponder this, as James seemed to have gotten a second wind and was winding up for another round of screaming. Glancing around the room quickly she looked for anything to help soothe her young son. Leaning over the edge of her chair she picked up something soft and white.
"Bunny? You want the bunny, Sweetie?" She held the stuffed rabbit out for Jymmy to touch.
There was barely enough time to draw her head back as a white blur catuapulted past her vision. "Ok...don't want the bunny."
She was just looking around for something else when she heard the doorbell ring.
She looked in the direction of the door and back at the screaming child. "Ok, Mommy's going to get the door but I'll be right back sweetie." Trying to give him a reassuring smile (or maybe it was for her...) she undid the brakes and wheeled herself to the front door. Glancing at the security monitor above the door, she saw who it was and nearly sagged in relief. Help had arrived.
Undoing the locks, Babs flung open the door to greet the visitor on the other side, "TIM! Oh thank God your here."
The godsend was standing right outside the door looking a little confused. This was natural. Tim was always confused. At least he was whenever he came over here these days. "Uhh. Hi Babs. Wow...Jymmy sounds really....unhappy."
"Come on in. I know...I was hoping maybe 'Uncle Tim' could do something to help?" She gave a beseeching look at her so-called 'brother-in-law'.
The 19 year old teen wonder grinned, "Sure. Let Uncle Timmy work his magic."
Barabra would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been doing that for the past 15 minutes, and was now afraid they'd be stuck like that.
A few more minutes later and Tim threw his arms up in defeat. About 10 stuffed animals littered the room at various distances, and as tribute to his years of training under the Bat, he'd managed to dodge all but one of those. Dang but the kid had aim.
He managed to make it to the relative safety of the archway leading from the living room to the kitchen and shrugged at Babs. "I tried."
The doorbell rang again and Babs left Tim to answer it while she (relunctantly) wheeled over to the shrill toddler.
Leaving Babs to further attempts to soothe the upset child, Tim sauntered over to the door. Casting a glance at the monitor he all but grinned when he saw who it was. Bruce.
Throwing the door wide he reached out and snagged a trench coated arm of billionaire and yanked him inside his son's domain.
Bruce looked Tim over with a suspicious glare, as he allowed himself to be pulled inside. "Alfred's parking the car, he'll be up in a few moments....What IS that horrible noise?"
Tim crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned causually against a table by the door. "That...is the sound of your grandson, who is apparently VERY upset for reasons unknown."
Bruce looked towards the archway with rather anxious expression. "Oh?"
Tim kept on grinning, "Yup. Bab's has been trying to calm him down for a while now, no go." He brought a hand up to one cheek as his eyes went wide in mock innocence, looking as if an idea just occured to him. "HEY! I know....Since your the worlds greatest detective," he shot Bruce a dazzling smile, "not to mention worlds greatest grandpa, why dont' YOU figure out what's wrong?"
Bruce's subsequent glare did not have the desired effect as his partner burst out laughing, and he turned to stalk through the archway to the living room.
A few moments later, found the great Dark Knight holding a screeching toddler in his arms who was no more mollified now than he was a minute ago. He hated to admit it when he found a dead end, but couldn't for the life of him (or the sake of his hearing) figure out what was wrong with the boy. He'd asked Barbara all the usual questions, which she tolerated with minimal glaring. Yes, she'd tried feeding him, he threw the cup across the room. Yes, she'd tried playing music...he just screamed louder to be heard over it. She'd answered all his questions, and it would appear that no matter what they did James kept crying.
Not long after THAT, Alfred had shown up, letting all three sigh in relief. Surely Alfred would know what to do.
Apparently there's a first time for everything. Not only was Alfred at a loss as to what had James so in a snit, he couldn't seem to think of any remedies that hadn't already been tried. The only thing he'd been able to offer was the wonderful insight of, "If I may say Ms. Barabara, it is fairly apparent that he wants SOMETHING."
The sudden arrival of Dinah and Cass (bearing ice cream gifts no less) did nothing to rectify the situation. In fact James flat out refused any ice cream which set off warning bells in Barbara's head. Could it be that Jymmy was sick?
At such an unsettling notion Alfred excused himself to the kitchen where he could 'ring' Doctor Thompson for her advice. This left five adults in the living room scratching their heads and one crying frusterated toddler in a playpen.
Bruce had just batted away Cass's hand, as she only seemed to be antagonizing the baby by poking him in the arm, when the front door opened. Dick walked into the room and tossed his black BPD bag on the floor by the door, and crossed through the archway.
The crying stopped.
All heads turned toward's Dick as he grinned, walking towards the playpen. Under his arm was a stuffed elephant with a circus cape on it's backed. Obviously it had been dry cleaned...or at least that's what the tag hanging saying, "Kim's Dry Cleaners" told them.
Alfred walked out of the kitchen to gaze in wonder the telephone in his hand forgotten.
Dick Grayson, son of Bruce Wayne Gotham's favorite son and self proclaimed protector of innocents, leaned down to pick up the sniffling child. "Aw." He said as he held his son close, handing over the elephant to it's latest owner. "I guess he wanted his Daddy."
He never saw the barrage of stuffed animals coming.