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Casual Encounters
Part Two
written by destinyawakened
It wasn't like he actually thought Bruce Wayne would call him that night. In fact he was so sure he wouldn't that he could have bet money on it and walked away with a fortune. Jim Gordon tried to explain to Babs that men, such as Bruce Wayne, had a hard time keeping priorities and remembering the things they promised to other people. Babs seemed a little broken hearted, so Gordon told her, reluctantly, that he was sure Mister Wayne just got a little busy with his lady friend and would most likely call tomorrow. He knew it was a lie and that he would have to deal with the pouting teenager tomorrow, but it at least gave him half a day to hunt down Bruce and get an explanation for not coming through. Or at least calling.
Gordon sat out on the door step of the house, lighting up his first cigarette for the night – he'd have at least two more before he went to bed. He smoked outside, because the kids asked him too. Originally they asked him to quit all together, but they came to a compromise and he was kicked out of the house to smoke, even when Babs and Jimmy weren't there. Babs tried to get him not to smoke tonight at all, but he told her after the tension at Target he needed to go de-stress. She didn't argue, it would have been pointless.
“Again, Jim?” A gravely voice from the darkness to this left. Gordon didn't need to look up to know who it was; there was only one person in all of Gotham who could sneak up on him like that.
“Old habits are hard to break.” He threw the cigarette on the ground and snubbed it out with his toe. He had heard the lecture many times from Batman and he didn't feel like hearing it again. “Thanks for being there tonight. I don't know how you knew so quickly, but thank you.”
“Jim, you don't have to --” The Bat started but Gordon held up a hand for him to stop.
“Please? Allow me to thank you this one time? I don't need to know why you were so close or how you knew, I just want to thank you. I'm not sure my kids could have gone through another...” Gordon trailed off, he didn't even want to finish the sentence.
"I know.” And that was that, no arguments about the thank you – nothing. Gordon sighed and stared out at the street for a long time, rubbing his hands with his face. He and Batman spent a lot of time in silence together and it never seemed awkward and it never would. They knew each other better than other partners could. Partners, yes. They were definitely partners. The silence, however, was not helping matters for Gordon when it came to fuming over Bruce Wayne not calling.
“Something on your mind?” Batman asked, jumping lightly to the ground just a few feet away from Gordon.
Gordon looked over at him and shook his head. “Nothing a father can't handle,” he muttered. Batman had tipped his head curiously, obviously he wasn't in a rush and didn't mind listening. “I had a fluke meeting with that billionaire kid, Wayne. He offered to give my daughter some books and promised to call tonight to set something up.” He glanced at his watch. “And seeing as it's after eleven already, I doubt he's going to call.”
Batman was silent for a few moments, regarding the situation it seemed, to see both parts. And then when he spoke again his voice was little softer. “Maybe something came up. I'm sure if he promised he would call, he will.”
Gordon rolled his eyes. “You've never met Bruce Wayne have you?” He didn't really expect an answer. Who ever Batman was, he probably associated with better people than Bruce Wayne.
“I've met him.” Batman replied. Gordon raised an eyebrow in shock. “Business.” Of course, it made sense. Batman had to have money in order to get the equipment he used, which meant he had to be a very good businessman, maybe even worked for Wayne Enterprises. Gordon didn't want to push it, he didn't want to know any of the horrible truths about the man behind the cowl. Their relationship – their friendship – was perfect just the way it was.
“'Course.” Gordon nodded as he looked down at the side walk for moment. He didn't know what to say to that, they rarely talked, if ever, about Batman's personal life. “Would you --” He looked back and saw that Batman was gone. Figures. Gordon stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. He walked back into the house, the quiet buzz of the television that Jimmy had left on before trudging to bed just a few hours earlier. Gordon would have turned it off but he didn't care enough and it provided some sort of comfort to have some background noise as the night was turning into a new day.
He had thought maybe he would smoke another cigarette, go back outside, but Batman and Babs' voice kept ringing in his head so he took the cigarettes out of his pocket and threw them in the drawer. He should go to bed, it was late and the kids wanted to go out for donuts in the morning, which meant they would be up at the crack of dawn so they could get the best kinds. He headed down the hall towards the master bedroom and just as he entered his pocket began to sing that damned Star Wars tune that Jimmy put on his cellphone ages ago. He fumbled around his pocket for it and flipped it open.
“Gordon.” He said, expecting it to be one of the detectives at MCU who couldn't seem to go one night with out him.
“Commissioner! I was afraid you'd be asleep.” It was Bruce Wayne. Gordon sighed and plopped down on the edge of his bed, cradling his head in his free hand. “I do want to apologize for not calling sooner. I had a dinner date that ran rather late.”
“It's fine, Mister Wayne.” Gordon grumbled into the receiver. He was too tired for the games and hoped Bruce just got to the point quickly.
“Wonderful. So, I'm free tomorrow between ten and twelve. Will that work for you and your daughter?” Bruce's voice was rich and full of life, and Gordon would have liked to have slapped him through the phone for being so alert at this hour of the night.
“That's fine. Where?” Gordon knew he was starting to sound short with the other man, but he was tired and after the events of the night, he was in no mood to deal with Bruce any longer than he had to.
“I can drop them by your house. Alfred went and picked them up this evening for me.” Bruce answered. Gordon could almost not hear him because of the loud roar of an engine in the background. Bruce was driving it seemed, but the engine didn't sound anything like any car Gordon had ever heard before. He frowned at that, billionaire playboys and their toys.
“That would be fine. I'm sure Babs will be very excited.” Gordon tried to keep his annoyance and surprise in check, not that Bruce would ever notice.
“Great. I'll see you then.” And the phone went dead.
“Wonderful.” Gordon said to himself. He threw the phone to the other side of the bed and flopped backwards, staring at the ceiling in a daze. Either Bruce Wayne knew where he lived already or he would be getting a phone call at ten tomorrow asking for directions. He wasn't sure which was more annoying.
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“Is he here yet?” Babs asked for the sixth time in five minutes. Gordon turned to look at his daughter, who was dressed in her best button-up shirt, tailored green vest, and gray slacks. He realized his worst nightmare had already come true and it would take some time to bring Babs down from her crush. Hopefully her mother could talk some sense into her, but most likely Barbara would giggle with her at the fact that Bruce Wayne even talked to Babs at all.
“No. It's not even ten yet.” Gordon replied to his daughter who had walked passed him to stare out the window. He rolled his eyes, exasperated.
“But he could be early, Dad.” She had her nose almost plastered to the front window trying to look further down the street to see if he was coming.
“I honestly doubt that, Babs.” Bruce Wayne was notorious for running street lights and stops signs and speeding just to get where he was going – because he was always late. Gordon was sure it wasn't going to be any different this time around. Between ten and twelve left a lot of in between time, and knowing the billionaire (well not really knowing...) he would wait until the very last minutes of twelve to show up. This meant that Gordon would have to listen to Babs go on for two hours about what kinda of books Bruce Wayne would give her and how jealous the other kids at school were going to be; as if Bruce Wayne were some kind of pop star or something.
But to Gordon's surprise, a stretch limousine pulled up to their house at Ten O'clock on the dot. Bruce's butler got out first, walking around to the back of the limo and open the door. And there was Bruce Wayne, there before Gordon would have ever expected, if at all. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. Everything he'd ever heard about Bruce always suggested he didn't care about anything, therefor being constantly late – even to his own parties.
Bruce was dressed in a tailored dark gray suit and a shiny deep purple tie. Gordon could already tell that Babs was going to crush even harder now. He looked over at her as she sped away from the window as not to be seen by Bruce and back to her room. Gordon shook his head and sighed. He wanted to laugh, he really did, but he thought it was ridiculous at the same time. He walked over to the door and opened it. He stood with his shoulder to the door, waiting.
Bruce had pulled out one huge box of books, carrying it towards Gordon's house with ease, as if it were a pillow. Gordon raised an eyebrow at him as he approached. “You need any help with those?”
“No. There are a few more boxes, but I can get them. We don't need Gotham's commissioner throwing his back out.” Bruce's tone was far from serious, but Gordon couldn't help be feel a like he was being made fun of. Sure, he wasn't well built, and he could go to the gym more often, but he was far from weak.
“I'll help,” Gordon said walking down the steps. “Just put the box down by the couch.” He reached the limo and gave Alfred a nod, who was waiting, it seemed, to close to door when all the boxes were out. Gordon grabbed one of the boxes and immediately regretted it. The box was heavier than he looked and filled with mostly hardback books. He groaned and caught Alfred's considering look out of the corner of his eye. He forced a weak smile and told himself to breath through the pain. How the hell did Bruce carry this with out even breaking a sweat?
Bruce was already down next to him again grabbing another box effortlessly, “You didn't have to, Gordon. I had it taken care of.”
“Least I could do,” Gordon gasped out as he finally made it to the living room and put the box down. He bent over at the waist to catch his breath. Bruce had dropped another box and brought in one more by the time Gordon had even been able to pull himself back up.
Bruce patted him on the back. “ I have one more box. I felt pretty bad about cluttering your daughters bookshelf, so I bought her a new one.”
Gordon glared at the billionaire as he walked back out of the house and retrieved another box. Bruce carried that, too, effortlessly. He dropped onto the living room floor. Immediately Gordon saw the words “Assembly required”. He turned his attention to Bruce who was now going through the books with Babs (who had sneaked back out of her room casually just minutes before).
“Does your butler want to come in, Mister Wayne?” He asked as he saw that Alfred was waiting patiently by the limo. Bruce looked up at him, that dumb, gaped-mouth look on his face.
“Oh yeah.” As if the playboy has forgotten who had even driven him here to begin with. “I'll go get him.” Bruce set down one of the books into Babs' hands and ran out the door, saying something to Alfred that Gordon couldn't here. Alfred nodded and followed Bruce back up to the house.
Gordon sighed. Maybe Alfred could help him put this bookshelf together.
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Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth ended up staying most of the afternoon. Alfred helped Gordon put the bookshelf together and Bruce went through every book with Babs and told her what they were about and the history behind it. Gordon was very surprised and had a new respect for Bruce, not much of one, but a new one. Some of the books he had given Babs were older than Gordon and first editions. He didn't even know the titles of a good seventy-five percent of the books, and started to feel a little overwhelmed listening to Bruce rant on about them. Babs seemed to be right on speed with the billionaire though. She ended up hugging Bruce when he left. Bruce even gave her his cell phone number if she had any questions.
Gordon felt like wringing Bruce Wayne's neck. The situation was one he didn't want to deal with. He had told his Barbara about it, and she laughed and said Babs would get over it in a few weeks, it was just a little crush. Gordon wished he could be so sure. It was Bruce Wayne, after all.
Now, it was Monday morning, back to work as usual. He'd gotten a phone call from Renee Montoya asking him to bring in coffee, as the coffee maker was broken. She insisted that he not bring in any of that gas station crap that he usually did. When asked what she preferred, she said Starbucks. Gordon had sighed and agreed, there was one on the way from picking up Sarah Essen to MCU.
He parked the car in the lot, waiting by the door for Sarah to follow him. He opened the door for her and let her in first. She smiled slyly at him and brushed her hand against his shoulder as she passed. He smiled at her and placed a hand on the small of her back as they walked up to the line. It was a very long line and Gordon was starting to remember why he never came to Starbucks.
“How did you get talked into this again?” Sarah asked him quietly.
He shook his head. “Renee.” It was all he needed to say and Sarah understood. “I'm only getting regular coffee, this stuff is too expensive.”
Sarah laughed, “We could just ask for a couple of cups and then go down to the gas station and fill them with their coffee. I don't know that Renee would know the difference.”
“Oh, but there is a difference, Lieutenant.” Came a suave voice from behind them. Gordon didn't want to turn around, he didn't want to see the face attached to the voice, because he already knew. He turned around – Sarah was already gaping – and found himself face-to-face with Bruce Wayne. Third day in a row, his luck must be running out.
“Starbucks uses a premium coffee. Those gas stations might as well use sludge and a lot more water than is necessary.” Bruce continued, using his hands to gesture to the bags of coffee beans behind the counter. He smiled at Gordon in an “all knowing” sort of way and then offered Sarah a more sly, predatory grin that Gordon didn't like at all. He moved Sarah with his arm ahead of him so that he was between her and Bruce.
The playboy seemed to notice Gordon discomfort. “Is this your lady friend, Commissioner? I didn't remember reading anywhere that you were dating anyone?”
Gordon felt his face start to burn. He wasn't sure what he and Sarah were, but they were a little better than friends but not quite a couple. “Um, well...”
“Yes.” Sarah said from behind him, her voice was strong and forward. She reached out for Gordon's hand. He twined their fingers together. Bruce winked at him and then nudged him with his elbow.
“It's really good to see that even after that nasty divorce you can still move on.” Bruce had dropped his voice an octave so that it was nearly a whisper, and only Gordon could hear him. Gordon didn't want to tell him that half the reason the divorce happened was because of Sarah. What would the playboy think of him then. No, he'd rather keep Bruce respecting him.
They were suddenly next in-line. “Eight regular coffees.” Gordon said to the girl behind the counter who was staring at him, blankly.
“Size?”
“Excuse me?” Gordon asked. “Regular.”
“But what size, sir?” The girl asked again.
Bruce leaned his head towards Gordon ear, “The sizes are 'tall', 'grande' or 'venti', Commissioner.” Bruce pointed to the sign on the back wall and Gordon stared at it, and rolled his eyes. Why did these damn fancy places have to make this so difficult.
“Grande.” Gordon said to the girl and she nodded, pulling the cups from her right and writing on them what he wanted.
“What name can I put on this?” Another stupid question, Gordon thought.
“Jim.” He said. He paid the girl and moved on with Sarah to the counter at the end of the bar to wait. He was watching as Bruce approached the counter, smiling widely at the girl, who was blushing.
“Grande non-fat chai latte.” The billionaire said. He had pulled out a fifty, paid, and left the rest in the girls tip jar. Gordon shook his head in disbelief. Did this guy ever stop?
Bruce strolled up next to them just as they got their eight coffees. “It was good to see you again, Commissioner. I'll see you around.”
Gordon nodded at him. “Good-bye, Mister Wayne.” If he could help it, he wouldn't be seeing Bruce Wayne for a long time.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight