All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners (Cartoon Network, DC Comics). For a prompt on YJ_Anon_Meme.

It takes him a while to notice, because it's not like they both show up every time anyways. But it hits him one day, on the roof.

He turns around, and Batman's there. He jumps, curses, grabs his heart, and almost says, "Don't do that," but it wouldn't have any effect anyways. But the problem is, nobody laughs at his discomfort.

So he peers over Batman's shoulder, then turns a full circle. "I haven't seen Robin in a while. Is he okay?" Because normally, long absences are due to serious wounds.

Batman stares at him, and then says, "He's busy."

Gordon almost chokes on his coffee. Robin is apparently busy somewhere not patrolling Gotham, and he honestly never thought Bats would allow that. Not that he'd be a bad parent, just that, you know, Gotham comes first.

"Busy? Doing what? Homework? For the past month?"

"Science fair," Batman says, and he says it with a straight face.

Gordon eyebrows at him, and thinks that if the Batman were actually human, he would have sighed. But he doesn't, instead saying curtly, "He's working with other young superheroes on a covert ops team. Training."

It takes a second for him to process that. Because Robin is bad enough, but there are other young kids running around in tights risking their lives? "I can't believe—" but he can, oh yes he can. "These kids. They're not doing anything...dangerous?"

Batman shifts a bit, readjusting the fall of his cloak in the shadows. "They're as safe as I can make them without being accused of coddling," he answers just a bit wryly. "Teenagers, you know."

"Oh, I know. My own daughter's more than a handful," Gordon commiserates, and takes a sip of coffee. He clutches the folder in his hand, the one he intends to give to Batman, but hesitates. "But...he's okay, right? I mean, if any of them need help..."

It may be a trick of the shadows, but he thinks Batman almost smiles. "They've got the League behind them, too. We don't hover, but we're not about to let them get in over their heads. I handle risk management personally."

It's not that he doesn't trust the Batman with his life, it's just that he's not sure he trusts the Batman with the lives of teenage superheroes. "I want to check on—I want to meet them myself."

A few beats of silence pass, and Gordon's almost afraid he's asked too much. But, dammit, he watched Robin grow up, from his first appearance about, wow, has it really been three years? And so yes, he's grown fond of the boy. Although Gordon knew the Batman before there was a Robin, now he can't imagine a Batman without one.

"I want Robin to know he can come to me for help if he needs," Commissioner Gordon says firmly, and hopes like hell it works.

Apparently, it does. Batman shifts irritably, his scowl a little deeper and his cape a little closer. It's his I-hate-that-I-can't-say-no stance, and Gordon smiles slightly, knowing that he's won.

And then Batman says thoughtfully, "Some of them have never dealt with local law enforcement. This may be a good training opportunity."

"Never dealt with—" He huffs into his mustache, and realizes he knows nothing about any one of them except Robin. "Where are these kids from?"


Gordon eyes him, decides he's not kidding, and just shrugs. He's seen odder, and he'll probably see stranger things before he retires. Or gets shot. So he says, "Of course they are. Where are they now, and how do we get there?"

Batman's head moves just a little to one side, and Gordon grins at him.

Finally he says, "Not tonight. The perp comes first," and nods towards the file in Gordon's hand. "You can drop by any time tomorrow." It's as good as he's going to get, so he trades the file for a small, square piece of paper with an address on it in Batman's bold, neat handwriting.

Well, damn. He'd been hoping to get to ride in the Batplane or Batjet or Batcar or whatever. "So I just knock?" he asks, looking up.

But, of course, Batman's gone.

Gordon sighs, finishes his coffee, and heads back inside.

"There appears to be a police officer outside our front door," Kaldur observes mildly.

"Say what?" Artemis yelps, pulling her mask on and grabbing at her bow.

Wally sits up. "Is it my uncle?" He speeds across the room to look over Kaldur's shoulder. "He's a police scientist, my uncle is," he tosses out absently to the others.

"Nope, it's my uncle," Robin says, stretching by leaning backwards over the arm of the couch. "Batman said he would drop by today." He grabs the floor, pushes into a handstand, and gracefully kicks back up to a standing position.

"You don't have an uncle," Wally, now Kid Flash, accuses.

Robin smirks. "I do, actually. Dunno where he is, off wandering Europe or somewhere."

M'Gann raises her hand, then flushes and puts it down. "So, if this your uncle isn't your uncle, then...who is he?"

"There's this police officer Bats and I work with a lot in Gotham," Robin answers, heading towards the door, and then casually falls into a somersault, mostly because he can. "Sometimes he gives us files and clues and evidence and stuff, and we give him perps. It's always a good idea to have at least one cop in the district who you're on friendly terms with. Ours just happens to be the boss."

They've followed him out into the hallway, and right up to the entrance. Robin types his code, and the door whooshes up. "Commissioner Gordon!" he calls, and lets the man throw an arm around his neck and ruffle his hair.

"I was wondering where you'd got to," the older man says, smiling. "Gotham's been a little quieter lately, without your particular brand of mayhem."

Robin laughs at the guy, then ducks out of the hold, spinning around to Gordon's other side. "Guys, this is Commissioner Gordon of the Gotham Police Department, head of the Arrest-Batman taskforce, and all-around good guy."

"There are good guys in Gotham?" Kid Flash asks disbelievingly.

"Just the few," Robin shrugs. "Commish, this is Kid Flash," who frowns thoughtfully, then nods, "M'Gann M'orzz from Mars," she dips into a slight curtsy and twiddles her fingers at him, "Kaldur'ahm of Atlantis," who bows, "the scowly one is Superboy and..."

He glances around, finally spotting Artemis hanging back by the door, using the blind spot created by Superboy's massive shoulders. "...and our archer, Artemis, from Gotham. S'okay," he directs at the suddenly shy girl, "Gordon's, like, the only good cop on the force. Well, and Detective Montoya. But he's cool."

Artemis makes a quiet disbelieving noise, but does inch forward. She still hangs close behind Superboy, though.

"Pleasure to meet you all," Gordon says, ignoring everything he doesn't want to notice, like the green skin and the tattoos and the holy crap gills.

"C'mon in," Robin says, grabbing the man's arm and tugging. "Batman said you were gonna give us a crash course in dealing with the local cops...?"

"He mentioned as much," Gordon answers, glancing at the line of young heroes in front of him. "Do I get a tour of the super-secret Young Hero Base?"

"If you like," Robin says lightly, but he's tracking Gordon's gaze with his own. And Robin knows Gordon well enough that he says, "I'll just...go brew you some coffee, then," and takes off.

Gordon knows Robin well enough to know he's not actually brewing coffee, but hanging around the doorway, or ninjaing around behind them all, and eavesdropping. It doesn't much matter in the long run, though, and trying to outthink a Bat will inevitably end at Arkham.

"Listen," he says, frowning, and then stops and coughs, and tries again in a lighter tone of voice. "Listen. I don't like the idea of you youngsters out on your own..." and he holds up a hand to forestall the murmurs and exclamations. "But I can't stop you, and I can't deny you're doing good. I just want you guys to know that if you need any help, any legal help, or have trouble with the police, you can call me. I can't guarantee anything, but you'll at least have someone on your side." And he stops there to hand around a few business cards. Then he clears his throat, and continues. "But just so you know. That is. Um. Okay, look, I've known Robin for years, and I know it's easy to forget, but...he's only human. And only thirteen, at that. He doesn't need protecting, but just...You guys look out for him, you hear me?"

And then there's this moment of awkward silence that hangs heavy in the air. Finally, Kid Flash steps forward. "We will, sir," he says, and the sincerity practically oozes from the kid.

Gordon smiles, and says, "Then we understand each other. May I come inside?"

"Oh, of course!" M'Gann exclaims, and then she floats, the girl floats! forward and then hesitates, clearly unsure of the proper protocol. So Gordon grins at her, and offers his arm. She blushes a charming red, and slips her hand over his.

It lasts until the door hisses shut behind them, and she pulls aways, still floating, only backwards. "I just made some cookies...?" She offers shyly, and he smiles.

"They smell wonderful," he lies, since he can't smell anything but recycled oxygen. She takes off ahead of them anyways, leaving the boys and him alone.

They think he doesn't know they're flanking him in an enclosing maneuver. He lets them, because it doesn't really matter to him, and he's pretty sure it makes them feel better. Kid Flash keeps shooting him these sidewards glances, and Superboy is drilling a hole in his back with his glare.

Wait, Superman, Superboy...the kid couldn't really kill him with his eyes...? But thankfully, just then they arrive in the kitchen.

M'Gann sets a plate of cookies on the table, and Kid Flash grabs three before he can blink. Robin leans over his shoulder to set down a mug of coffee. Gordon has no doubt it's black, two sugars, just the way he likes. But as the boy wonder draws back, he murmurs a soft "Thanks," in Gordon's ear, and the cop turns enough to see the slight line of red right below his mask. He smiles his acknowledgement, and says, "Okay, so first thing you need to know about cops..."