Fondness. That's the word Barbara Gordon used to explain the troubling occurrences. At least, it was what she told her friends.
First, her throat would go dry. Then, her heart would beat just a little bit faster than normal. Next, her face would get a little warmer. Finally, despite her best efforts, a broad grin would curve her lips upward. All of it was due to Richard Grayson entering the room.
She told herself repeatedly it was because she was fond of the thirteen year old. "Who wouldn't be," she mentally told herself, nibbling on the cap on the end of her favorite blue pen and scrutinizing Richard's relaxed posture over the top of her American history book. As he did during most lunch periods, he was socializing with some mathletes.
Genius was one way to describe him, but she thought there was more to him than that. He was also the second best gymnast Barbara had ever seen, just after the Boy Wonder, and yet, he wasn't on the Academy's squad. That puzzled her, but she assume