Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to DC. I'm just borrowing.

Context: BoP #89

Thanks to Kathy for the beta!

Barbara blinks. He knew about the Bat-suit? "Then…" Then why hasn't he ever said anything? She knows the answer before she asks the question. Vigilantes in Gotham always walked a narrow line…

She remembers the early days, when she'd just come to live with him and he was still 'Uncle Jim' to her. Back then, she'd often accompanied him to the station in the evenings. It was a fair compromise: she didn't have to put up with a baby sitter, and he didn't have to worry about…

Barbara flinches as she recalls the phrase he'd use: "some maniac coming by the house, while I'm not there." She bites her lip. In the end, when the maniac finally showed up, he'd been there. And it hadn't helped.

At any rate, she'd usually sit in one of the soundproofed interrogation rooms and read or study. But she well remembers one time that she took a break to go to the vending machines and she passed by Uncle Jim's office.

She hears heated voices through the closed door. One belongs to her uncle. A moment later, a well-dressed man storms out and slams the door behind him. She recognizes him—Ambrose Ketchum, the deputy mayor. Barbara cautiously opens the door. Her uncle is leaning out the window.

"I suppose you heard that."

She opens her mouth to answer when another voice responds from outside. "I did."

Uncle Jim sighs. "You… realize that this means I can't be seen talking to you for a while."

The reply comes swiftly. "Understood."

The commissioner seems about to pull his head in, but he changes his mind. "The mayor's ordered me to assemble a team to bring you in. I'm going to have to put some good officers on it." He snorts in disgust. "Waste of taxpayer's dollars, you ask me. But at this point, the less I know about you the better."

There is a noncommittal grunt. Then, "You have company."

Uncle Jim jerks away from the window and spins quickly around. Barbara sees his apprehension change to relief. "Everything okay, Honey?"

She nods. She's dying to ask who's outside, but something about his posture tells her that he doesn't want to discuss it. Besides, she's heard him talk enough about Batman at the breakfast table for her to guess. Uncle Jim's never mentioned that he actually knows Batman. Comprehension dawns. He talks to Batman. But he doesn't actually know him. And he doesn't want to. Because if he did… then he'd have to tell Ketchum. And even though he's never actually come out and said it, Uncle Jim thinks that Batman's doing Gotham more good by taking measures that the police can't, or won't.

She smiles. "Everything's fine, Uncle Jim. I just heard shouting, and I wanted to see what was going on."

"Ah." Gordon walks over to her and gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Sorry if that scared you. Everything's under control."

She nods convincingly.

"Barbara," Uncle Jim ventures after a moment, "you… didn't hear me talking to myself out there a minute ago, did you?"

She shakes her head. No. She definitely did NOT hear him talking to himself.

"Good." He sounds relieved. "I wouldn't want you to think I was cracking under pressure."

She smiles slowly. Funny. For a man who's turned down her offers to play Battleship and chess because he's 'too old for games', he's playing a good one.