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Lost Holidays
Chapter Nine
written by destinyawakened
Tuesday, January 6 -- Day after Jim's Birthday
Gordon didn't really think about it, the thought not crossing his mind until the bed shifted beside him just slightly, the slick sound of sheets rustling, soft footsteps retreating out of the room and down the hall-way. Bruce hadn't been on patrol yet, and though he wasn't really needed every night, Gordon knew that the playboy had to go out, for his own sanity. Gordon considered this to be a little obsessive-compulsive of him, but never tried to convince him to do other-wise. To be honest, Gordon was pretty much the same way. If only Bruce would take his own advice and relax now and then.
Gordon reached for his glasses, realizing the second he felt for them that he had left them in the living room. He stumbled out of bed, picking up his boxers from the floor and pulling them on before shuffling out into the hall-way after Bruce. He kept one hand on the wall, trying to keep his balance without being able to see. His hand grazed a light switch, which turned on the lights for the living room. Bruce was no where to be seen. Gordon squinted his way to the coffee table, where he had placed his glasses their fury of emotion. He put them on, sighing in relief at not having to strain to see anymore. He glanced around, aware that Bruce had a few secret doors leading to a room where he could change quickly into the Batsuit; how he ever left the building in that thing without being noticed, Gordon wasn't sure. Maybe he used the balcony.
Gordon briefly considered going out on the balcony to wait and see, but he looked down at his current outfit and decided against it. Instead he took a seat on the couch, glancing on the time on the large metal clock sitting over the fire place: two A.M. It was a little late for Bruce to be going out; Gordon thought he had said he started his rounds closer to midnight, if not earlier. At first, Gordon wondered if there had been a call he didn't hear, but a quick check of his cell phone, laying on the side table, quickly eased his mind.
The clunk of boots down the marble hall-way behind him caught his attention. Batman was now standing there, pulling on gloves, adjusting the other pieces of the suit. The vigilante seemingly hadn't noticed Gordon was up yet, but that changed quick. The other man's eyes rose to meet Gordon's, sparkling a little from the light of the room. He tipped his head a little, obviously curious.
“Couldn't sleep,” Gordon mumbled, trying to suppress the yawn that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Where you headed?”
Bruce stepped into the living room, rounding the side of the couch until he stood, in front of Gordon. “There's been a string of burglaries lately, usually around the same time every morning. Hasn't been anything big enough to call the attention of the commissioner, but I'm still looking into it. It might be that one piece we're missing in our case.”
“Burglaries? As in houses?” Gordon asked, feeling as if he might have been more tired than he thought; since when did Batman investigate small-time burglaries?
“So far. The minute they become robberies you'll have another case on your hands. I'm trying to prevent that.” The billionaire's tone was matter-of-fact. Gordon always wanted to laugh when Bruce talked in his normal, casual tone while wearing the Batsuit; it was far from intimidating and made Gordon realize just how amazing Bruce really was. Sometimes, the realization that Bruce was Batman was a surreal one, and whenever he was reminded, he couldn't help but feel proud of the playboy for standing up for what he believed in, for Gotham City. If Gordon were a little younger...
He shook the thought off. Bruce was staring at him, long and steady. Gordon frowned, remembering they were having a conversation. “Any leads?”
“None. Consistently, witnesses say it's a female, wearing all black. That's nothing unusual.” Bruce touched Gordon's shoulder as he walked past him to the balcony doors. “I have to get going. I'll be back in a few hours, Jim. If you stay up, be sure to put some pants on before Alfred returns.”
Gordon looked down at himself trying to keep his face as serious as possible. “I thought I looked rather dashing.” The smile he'd tried to suppress finally slipped onto his face, earning a small grin and a slight eye roll from Bruce. “I'm headed back to bed. Be careful.” He stood, turning back towards the hall leading to the bedroom. “Oh, and we have a meeting with the mayor tomorrow at ten. Try not to stay out too late.”
A moan escaped Bruce's mouth; he hated the meetings about as much as Gordon did. “Great. I won't be too long.” Gordon didn't even turn back. He just waved a hand at him, shuffling back toward the bedroom, feeling even more tired now than he had when he first woke up.
------
“Will you stop yawning?” Gordon growled at Bruce. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the Lamborghini, allowing Gordon to drive, which he was sure was only because the billionaire was too tired. Bruce grumbled something, rubbing at his eyes. Gordon shook his head. “You had three cups of coffee, Bruce. You should be able to stay awake long enough to get through this meeting.”
Another yawn from the playboy; this one he tried to suppress, hiding his mouth with his hand, glancing at Gordon shamefully. “Sorry.” Gordon knew he couldn't really help it; he had been out until six A.M. chasing some masked burglar to three different houses, only to have her get away on the last one. Gordon wasn't sure how Bruce lost track of one burglar, but he swore that the woman was very agile and quick on her feet, nothing like anyone he'd been up against before. It showed, too. Bruce had returned with quite a few scratches to his torso, bruises on his arms and back. Gordon tried to express his concern when he saw them, but Bruce brushed it off saying he'd had worse. Some battles with Bruce weren't worth the fight.
Gordon parked the car just outside City Hall, follow the same routine as always. Bruce drove off to the parking garage, and Gordon made his way up to the mayor's office. He walked past the secretary with a little wave Before tapping on the door to Garcia's office. There was a muffled voice, something that sounded like “come in”, though he couldn't be sure. He slowly opened the door, peeking his head in to check things out, just in case. Garcia sat behind his desk, signing paperwork and motioning Gordon in with his free hand.
“Take a seat, Gordon,” Garcia said, looking up only briefly from his papers. “ Just let me finish this last form.”
Gordon sat down in one of the chairs across the desk from the mayor and stared out the huge window overlooking the city, a sight which never ceased to amaze him. He had been offered an office at City Hall, and though he was tempted by the great views it offered, he refused, knowing his place was among those he'd worked with for so many years. The title of Commissioner didn't mean too much to him, just more responsibilities in a job he already loved, plus more paperwork. He really could have done without the paperwork.
Another tap at the door; the mayor grumbled another “come in”, signing his name to the last paper, and setting it aside. Bruce entered the room and shut the door behind him before taking a seat next to Gordon. He offered him a smug smile before turning his attention to the mayor.
“It's been five days since the last murder. What have you found out?” Garcia asked, leaning back in his chair and casually flipping a pen between his fingers. Gordon glanced over at Bruce, who was sitting with his elbows on the chair arms, hands together, fingers peaked. His face was emotionless, the expression he often held in front of the mayor – set to intimidate but not to cross any lines. Gordon assumed it worked; so far the mayor had no qualms with the billionaire,at least none that he mentioned. Bruce tipped his head to the side and looked at Gordon, as though to see if he wanted to answer the question, or if he needed Bruce to step in. Gordon took the hint.
“We still don't have a lot to go off of. No witnesses, no finger prints, no DNA to be found. Scene was completely clean, as usual. The killer covers his tracks pretty well,” Gordon stated, folding his hands in his lap, gaze set intently on mayor. The mayor looked him over, still flipping the pen between his fingers, pursing his lips in thought.
“What about leads? Patterns?” The mayor liked to act like he knew everything about the workings of the police, which annoyed Gordon a lot of the time; but he knew the man meant well, just trying to keep in touch with the city and not seem so oblivious.
“Holidays, but besides that, nothing points in one general direction,” Gordon replied, keeping his tone neutral Bruce shifted beside him, clearing his throat.
“I know the Commissioner has brought this up before, but all of the victims have been part of justice system. I believe that's the right track to follow, but I think we're missing a link. There must be a case those three were on that connects them together. From there, I believe we could find the next potential victim.”
Garcia leaned forward, hand son his desk now, staring at Bruce with a bit of amazement on his face. “And the holidays?”
“The killer obviously picks major holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's... the rest of January has none. Potentially, we could be looking at Valentine's Day,” Bruce explained, the serious expression never leaving his face. Gordon knew Bruce was really trying to prove that he was a professional, that he knew this job inside and out and could probably do it better than any of the cops or detectives on the force. There was a need there, Gordon knew, for Bruce to be accepted, approved of, maybe even genuinely liked for who he was.
“Little over a month, then, to figure out the next victim. What about places?” Garcia asked.
“Let's hope we don't have to figure out a place, yet. Valentine's Day... the choices are limitless. Have to be somewhere out of the way, unpopular maybe, but related. I'll start looking into it.” Bruce kept his jaw strong, his face showing no emotion, much as he did when he had the cowl on. Gordon supposed the mayor just had that effect on people, knowing that he also kept his own facial expressions pretty dull.
“Great. Keep me posted on this,” Garcia said to Bruce, before turning his attention to Gordon. “How Selina Kyle working out?” Gordon wanted to be honest, tell him that they were suspicious of her due to the bust on New Year's Eve, and how it was all her information that had lead them astray, but at the same time there was no hard evidence to back him up. Bruce would find something out, though, hopefully soon.
“She's pulling her weight, for now,” Gordon said plainly. Bruce looked at him, almost as if he wanted to tell Garcia about the issue, but he saw the reluctant look on Gordon's face kept his mouth shut.
“Good. Good,” Garcia said, trailing off for a moment. “I don't think I have anything else, gentlemen. Anything you two need to mention?” Gordon and Bruce both shook their heads at the same time. “Alright, until next week, then.”
They all stood, exchanging handshakes, Gordon walking towards the door, Bruce not far behind. They reached the elevator and slid into the car, waiting for the doors to shut before either one of them deemed it safe to talk.
“You didn't mention Selina's mishap.” It wasn't a question but a statement. Bruce was giving him a quizzical look, which Gordon often thought was quite an adorable expression, especially when it was genuine and not part of the facade.
“Didn't think it was right, not yet.” Gordon sighed, hitting the first floor button. “Find out anything new about her?”
“We've only gone out twice. Hardly grounds for asking the personal background questions. She'd begin to suspect.”
“What do you know?”
“She was born in Gotham – well, as far as she knows. She says she was adopted. She moved to New York just out of high school, and went to the police academy there,” Bruce said, stepping out of the elevator, Gordon just behind him. Gordon didn't know what to think; he'd looked over her files, and there was nothing about her being adopted. Not that it was something most people listed on their applications, or even listed in background checks. But it was a curious bit of information he might want later on.
“Adopted? That's something to look into.”
“Why?” Bruce almost sounded accusing, protective even. This made Gordon a little uneasy and he glanced at Bruce out of the corner of his eye.
“Why not? The more we know about her, the better we know what she's got hiding up her sleeve,” Gordon said as he walked out the lobby door, and down the steps. Bruce only a step behind him, stumbled at Gordon's remark.
“What if she isn't hiding anything?” Bruce asked as they stepped down onto the side walk, taking strides towards the parking garage. Gordon caught his arm, stopping them both in their tracks.
“Bruce, I've been doing this for over twenty-five years, I know when someone is lying to me, and sheis not being entirely honest or open with us,” Gordon replied, watching Bruce's face for some kind of light to click on in the man's eyes to indicate that he understood what Gordon was saying, where he was coming from. But Bruce just looked at him suddenly a little confused, shaking his head.
“We've all been known to be wrong, Jim.” Bruce pulled his arm away, taking up a quick pace towards the garage again. Gordon rolled his eyes in annoyance as he followed after him.
“I'm not wrong. I know I'm not wrong. Why can't you trust me on this?” They reached the front of the garage, and Bruce stopped, spinning on his heels to meet face-to-face with Gordon.
“I think you want Selina to be corrupt. You're very jealous, Jim. I let it go once, but this is getting way out of hand. You can't just push accusations on one of your detectives to get them removed from the force every time someone invades your space. You say you trust me, but yet you're threatened by some girl taking me away, as if I could drop everything we have for something I don't even feel for her.”
Gordon put his hands on his hips, a guarded position that always made him feel a little more in control when someone was up in his face as Bruce was now. He didn't know whether to be angry or sad; Bruce had a point, yet at the same time he knew that he was right about Selina. There was something amiss with her, something dangerously wrong, and it had nothing to do with his jealous fit the other week concerning her and Bruce; he had long since gotten over that. What concerned him the most right now was the sudden change in mood, again, from Bruce. It was happening more frequently, most often a day or so after the Arkham sessions. Whatever drugs they were giving him had to be affecting his brain, especially with chemicals he didn't even need since the diagnosis was all wrong. Gordon sighed; there was only so much he could do, so much he was allowed to do, to help Bruce Wayne. The rest was up to the man himself.
He couldn't be angry, not when he knew Bruce was; it wouldn't end well if they both walked away angry. He touched the younger man's shoulder gently, with his fingertips only at first – testing. When Bruce didn't flinch he placed his whole hand on his shoulder, leaning in towards him, head titled just so, rubbing his lips against Bruce's, another test. Usually, Gordon would care who was watching, who might see, but lately he found it didn't matter so much; some day people would find out anyway. The thrill of it pushed to go farther and he found his hands wrapped up in Bruce's hair, dragging his face closer to his own, until their lips meshed together in a tangle of lust. Gordon dropped his hands to Bruce's face, pulling away and gazing into his eyes, rubbing his thumbs softly across the his prominent jaw line.
“Trust me.”
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