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Momentum:
Chapter Ten
written by destinyawakened
All Bruce could think about as he sped across Gotham, back towards the Gordon's house, was how he should have stayed that extra half hour, or even an hour. It could have made the difference to whoever it was that holding Jim Gordon hostage. Bruce had ideas on that as well. The case he had been helping the Trio with was getting hotter and he knew this by the way one of the people he had run into the night before reacted to him. It wasn't pretty and the man tried desperately to cover things up. He was dangerous, Bruce had the stab wounds to show for that, but he was also reckless.
If this was the same man, Bruce knew that sneaking up on him would be the fastest and easiest way to take him down. He parked the Batpod a ways down the street from Gordon's house, and ran across the rooftops silently. He perched on a neighbors roof looking into the backyard of the Gordon's house, it was dark except the blue-hued glow of the television. Bruce brought out his night-vision goggles and looked in a little further.
A man had Gordon in a choke hold and something to his neck. Bruce guessed a knife if it were the same man he ran into last night. This would be easy though, he was right by the door and it being dark was going to be huge advantage for Bruce.
------
Gordon stood in the middle of his own living room, only the light of the television to light up anything. He knew, however, that someone else was there with him from hilt of the knife at his throat and the arm around his neck. On most occasions Gordon would have been able to take the upper hand, but without his gun and being a bit out of shape since the heart attack, he really had no idea if he had it in him. He didn't want to risk his children's lives, either. Who knew if this guy was working with someone or not?
“So, how long until he usually shows?” the man asked sharply next to Gordon's ear, pressing the blade of the knife a little further into his skin. Gordon swallowed. He was regretting having told Babs to call Batman on the that cell phone, he was almost hoping he didn't pick up.
“H-he doesn't even know I'm in any danger,” Gordon said calmly, and the man tugged his arm around Gordon's neck tighter, his lips next to his ear, snarling.
“Don't think me stupid. I've been watching and I know he keeps tabs on you somehow. Now, how long do yo think until he shows?” Gordon saw the blade of the glint in the television light, and then in the same moment he saw a shadow move to his left. The man obviously didn't see it. If Batman could sneak up on this guy, there just might be a chance. Of course there was chance... they'd been through a lot worse situations than this before. This, to Batman, was likely just another off-chance situation where his friend was in danger. Again, nothing new. Gordon hoped it would be simple, easy... done with quickly.
“Ten, twenty minutes,” Gordon responded, and the man growled out a sigh of annoyance. More movement and suddenly Gordon found himself flat on the floor, glasses thrown off his face. He heard the sound of leather against skin and the snapping of bone, maybe a jaw. Gordon scrambled to find his glasses, patting around the floor near him. He found the wiry frames and placed them on the bridge of his nose. On the floor next tot him was the man, knocked out and knife sprawled across the floor.
Gordon used the chair to help himself to his feet. He could see the soft blue glow of the television beating off the armor in front of him. Batman held out a hand to help steady Gordon. Gordon nodded and walked over to the wall and flipped on the light. Batman was leaning over the man now and was linking his hands with standard police issued handcuffs. Gordon walked back towards the kids' bedrooms and opened the door. Babs was huddled in the corner with Jimmy, where he told them to be. He motioned his head out to the living room and the two got to their feet and followed him back down the hall.
Batman was standing over the man, arms crossed over his chest. Jimmy's eyes went wide, it had been a few years since he'd seen Batman up close. Batman nodded his head at the two and then looked back to Gordon.
“What did he want?”
“You,” Gordon said. He sighed, picking up the house phone and dialing the number for the police station. He told them what happened and the woman said she would send a squad car right away. Gordon turned back to Batman, expectantly.
“This is the same man I was investigating last night. He's not the murderer though, I know that much. I think he's being used as a cover-up,” Batman said. Gordon turned to his kids and motioned them to go to bed, they didn't need to be here for this and they had school in the morning.
“Why would he come after my family?” Gordon asked. “Were we really just bait for you?”
“Probably,” the Bat said. “After our run in, he's probably more than a little angry.” Batman glanced out the front window, seeing the red and blue lights coming down the street. “If they ask, you did this, and he was looking to see what information you had on the recent murders.” Gordon nodded, turning his head to sirens and when he looked back, the Bat was gone.
----
The man, come to find out, was a Crime Scene Unit Investigator. Once Gordon had gotten a good look at him, he recognized him immediately. Bullock told Gordon that after some interrogation, the man admitted that he was working for someone – the murderer – but he couldn't say who. He opted for jail time rather than give away his boss. Had it been Gordon he wouldn't have taken that, but Atkins let it slide and said they would find the real murderer soon enough. It was bullshit; Gordon and the Trio knew it.
It really sickened him to know that the job he took so seriously, the job he so loved for years, was being degraded down by a man who obviously didn't care what happened in Gotham City. If Gordon felt he had any authority he would march down to City Hall and tell the mayor exactly what he thought of Commissioner Atkins' work. But Garcia wasn't going to take that well, he'd likely tell Gordon to stop worrying and enjoy retirement.
He looked around him at the garden he had started. If this was retirement, he was fucking sick of it. He needed to do something else, gardening, jogging, and long walks were getting to be tedious and God he needed some excitement. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He scrolled through the list of names, every single person was either working at MCU, City Hall or Bruce Wayne.
Gordon hit the call button as it scrolled past Wayne's number. This was either the stupidest idea he ever had or the smartest. He was sure he wouldn't find out until later that day. The other line rang a few times and finally Wayne picked up.
“Jim?” he asked, surprised. “What can I do for you?”
-----
Wayne had asked Gordon to meet him at Wayne Enterprises. The billionaire said he had a few meetings to take care of and then he'd be free for the rest of the afternoon. Gordon had his chance to just skip out on their, uh, lunch 'date' they set up, but he felt almost bad about doing that, so he opted to keep it. He was the one to call Wayne, after all. It wasn't like he had much to do today and he was curious to see if Wayne's obvious injuries he was hiding on Sunday were still around or if he was going to try to hide new ones. Well, he wasn't just curious, he was concerned.
When the hell did he start caring about what happened to Wayne? When Wayne showed that he cared more about your family than himself... and that was the truth. Wayne was starting to prove himself, whether he meant to or not. He was good with Gordon's kids, he knew how to cook, and when not surrounded by press, he was not the self-centered, money throwing, playboy the media claimed him to be. In fact, Wayne never once mentioned any women or dates, for that matter.
Wayne was definitely hiding something with all these falsehoods, the lies and deceit he fed to the media. Gordon was glad to be exempt from that now, happy to have been proven wrong about his assumptions of the billionaire. He just wished the younger man would open up about everything else he was keeping secret. Gordon wanted to be his friend, but first Wayne had to allow that.
Gordon stood in Wayne's office after his secretary had let him in, explaining that Mister Wayne would be back in a few minutes, he was still wrapping up a meeting. Gordon poked around Wayne's office, noting the view over looking more than half of the business district of Gotham. The office itself was brightly lit by the large window, decorated in mostly sleek black, his desk and bookcase build of black metal and glass. Gordon looked over the books he had on the shelf; mostly titles on economics, mechanics, business, and what looked like a few sketch pads.
Gordon pulled out one of the sketch pads and flipped through it. He couldn't really place what he was looking at, mostly pieces of things that probably made more sense if put together with someone else, mechanical mostly. Wayne's signature sat at the bottom of each sketch, and Gordon found himself completely baffled. He didn't peg Wayne as a man who had an artistic flare. He put the pad back and pulled out another. This was filled with drawings of buildings around Gotham, sketched and almost perfect.
The door opened and Gordon couldn't think fast enough to put the pad back. He looked up at the man who entered the office – at Wayne. He didn't seem upset though to find Gordon snooping around. He merely smiled and walked over to Gordon and looked over his shoulder at the drawing he was gazing at.
“Another one of those things that people don't need to know about Bruce Wayne,” the billionaire said casually. “My mother painted a lot, had a big love for art. I use to take an after school art class when I was younger. Until my father found out. He didn't think a boy should have such a love for art.”
Gordon raised an eyebrow at him, closing the pad of paper and putting it back on the bookshelf. “He obviously didn't know how good you'd be at it. They're quite good.”
Wayne shrugged. “More of a hobby than anything. I didn't pick it back up until a returned to Gotham.” Gordon gazed when he mentioned returning to Gotham; it had always been a mystery to everyone just exactly where Wayne had been for those seven years. No one asked and Wayne never offered any answers. It really wasn't anyone's business. A lot of media rumored he'd gone away to some detox camp for drugged out billionaires. Others said he just went to travel the world, extremely unsettled by the events surrounding Joe Chill. Gordon wasn't sure he believed either of them.
“Have you designed anything that's been in production, yet?” Gordon asked, curiously. After seeing some of the technical and mechanical drawings in the other pad, he was sure some of them had to have been placed into production.
“Well, not in bulk. A few items have been made, but they're mostly prototypes until we decide whether to go through with them or not,” Wayne explained, but he also didn't offer to point out which drawings had been sent into production, either. Obviously not something he wanted to share, so Gordon didn't push his luck. Wayne shimmied out of his jacket and loosened his tie, placing the jacket over the back of his chair. “So, lunch? Anywhere you'd like to go? There are a lot of places here in the business district, or we can drive to where ever.”
“Your pick. I don't know anything about the restaurants around here,” Gordon said. He looked at his own casual appearance and then at Wayne getting himself as comfortable as possible. “Maybe away from the business district. Something that doesn't require a jacket or tie.” Wayne laughed, not looking too ready to put his suit jacket back on or straighten his tie for that matter.
“Alright. I'm sure we can find a place downtown that would be perfect.”
-----
They took Wayne's car to the downtown area, parking it at the public parking garage, and walking around for a bit. Neither of them had any idea where to go, Wayne suggested they just walk around a bit until something stuck out at them. Gordon wasn't in a hurry, if anything he was enjoying the unusual day out and not being alone. Some would say Wayne wasn't the best company to keep, but Gordon actually found him quite intriguing. Wayne had a good business sense about him, talking about the mergers Wayne Enterprises was going through, the buy out of businesses going under and what they were doing to help rebuild them and provide more jobs for the economy. Gordon was more than a little impressed.
They walked passed a small bistro and Gordon stopped. This one was vaguely familiar to him. It took him a few moments of staring at the menu to realize why. This was where he and Barbara shared their first dinner in Gotham together years ago. Wayne stopped next to him, peering at the menu. Most soups and salads, pastries, coffee – nothing too extreme. Wayne looked at Gordon approvingly, waiting to see if he wanted to eat here.
Move on, Jim. This will help the healing process. Gordon nodded at Wayne and the billionaire caught the attention of a waitress, who quickly seated them at a table outside, handing them the menus. Gordon knew he was just going to order a salad and probably more coffee. Always the coffee. Wayne seemed to know what he wanted and they ordered. Wayne, too, ordered just the salad.
“So, how has it been in the life of Jim Gordon these past few days?” Wayne asked. It had been three days since Wayne had been over at his house for dinner, and Gordon couldn't say they left on the best of terms, but Wayne seemed to be putting that aside or ignoring it. Gordon hadn't noticed him grimace in any pain today, so maybe it was a fluke thing – maybe it was golf. Having never played, Gordon wouldn't know.
“Boring. I had a doctors appointment yesterday. Was told I needed to change my diet again. Have to stay on the low fat end of things, apparently,” Gordon grumbled. The waitress brought out their coffees. Gordon added cream and sugar to his and watched as Bruce added, again, just sugar. He had to keep himself from reading too much into it. It's just coffee.
Wayne grinned at him, an genuinely friendly smile. “Well, we definitely don't need you getting another heart attack. I, for one, would be completely devastated.” He smirked slyly at Gordon.
Gordon took a sip of his coffee, looking at Wayne over the rim of his glasses. “Devastated, huh?”
“Completely,” Wayne said, taking a sip of his own coffee, hiding a mischievous smile behind the the brim. Gordon put his mug down and waited for Wayne to elaborate a little. Wayne put his mug down as well, hand still resting on the handle. “Who else would I cook with? Who would go have coffee with me? Who would feed me pancakes when Alfred wasn't looking?” Wayne moved his hands around with exaggeration, turning the whole sentimental value of what he was saying before into a big joke. But Gordon could tell that behind the jokes and sarcasm was still the same caring attitude. It was a little familiar to him, as if he had seen an felt it from someone else, someone who was not Bruce Wayne.
“I'm sure you'd find someone,” Gordon teased back. Wayne's face softened as he shifted in his seat, relaxing his posture.
“I don't think I'd want to.” Wayne sat back in his seat, his gaze didn't leave Gordon's, a long silent stretch that felt so right it almost awkward. Gordon flicked his eyes to his mug and brought up to his lips again as an excuse to break eye contact and the insecurity he was starting to feel in himself. When he looked back up again, Wayne was unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves and rolling them up. Gordon was happy to be wearing a light pair of pants and t-shirt, but Wayne looked to be getting a little hot.
“It's going to be a hot summer with the way spring has been warming up,” Gordon said, changing the subject. Wayne almost looked disappointed, but he didn't argue the switch in conversation.
“Let's hope not,” Wayne said. “Summer in Gotham is hot enough, any hotter and I –” Wayne stopped himself, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at his hand that was grasping the handle of his coffee mug. He bit his lip, and Gordon raised an eyebrow in question.
“You'll what, Bruce?” he asked. Wayne blinked as he looked at Gordon again. A smile appeared on his face, but this one was more uncomfortable than before.
“I'll, uh, have to plan a trip to Hawaii,” he said, but Gordon had a feeling that wasn't what he was actually going to say. Wayne sighed, leaning his elbows onto the table, hands folded and brought up so that his chin was resting on them. “Jim, there's a few things you should really know...” he trailed off, seeing the waitress come with their salads. She placed them down in front of them and Gordon picked up his fork and looked at Wayne to continue. But he didn't.
“Bruce?” Gordon questioned. He had a feeling that the billionaire had something important to tell him, a piece of whatever the mystery was about him that would finally let everything make sense. Bruce shook his head, picking up his own fork and stabbing at the Cobb salad.
“It's not important,” he said, obviously having had thought over what he wanted to say. Gordon stared at the younger man a long time, watching him eat and trying to figure out exactly what was going on in his head. It was important, Gordon knew, and that was why Wayne didn't want to say anything. It was one of his bigger secrets, if not the biggest – Gordon was sure of that. Maybe he had to gain a little more of Wayne's trust in order for him to talk to Gordon more openly.
Whatever this secret was, it was obviously not something Wayne wanted taken lightly.
“So, um, Jim?” Wayne asked after a few minutes. He put his fork down and looked at the man apathetically. Gordon looked at him to continue on. He knew this had nothing to do with the previous conversation. “That charity auction is coming up. The guest list is getting to be, uhm, a lot of older rich ladies...” Wayne started to look uncomfortable, reaching up and loosening the two buttons on his collar. Gordon wanted to laugh. “You mentioned finding a friend to go in and bid on me, I think that was a smart idea.”
“Oh? I was kidding, you know, but I guess It could work. Who are you going to ask?” Gordon asked, stabbing at his salad again. Wayne didn't answer right away and Gordon looked back up at him as he was about to put a forkful of lettuce in his mouth. He started to shake his head, putting the fork down. “No, no, no. I meant a lady friend.”
Wayne sighed. “I don't really have any lady 'friends'. Most of them only want one thing, and... No,” he shook his head in annoyance. He looked at Gordon with his eyebrows wrinkled in, softening his eyes and giving him an all around puppy dog look. Gordon wanted to beat his head into the table for falling for such a dirty trick.
“Bruce...” He began, but the billionaire almost pouting at him. Gordon sighed. “Fine.” God, what was he getting himself into?
If this was the same man, Bruce knew that sneaking up on him would be the fastest and easiest way to take him down. He parked the Batpod a ways down the street from Gordon's house, and ran across the rooftops silently. He perched on a neighbors roof looking into the backyard of the Gordon's house, it was dark except the blue-hued glow of the television. Bruce brought out his night-vision goggles and looked in a little further.
A man had Gordon in a choke hold and something to his neck. Bruce guessed a knife if it were the same man he ran into last night. This would be easy though, he was right by the door and it being dark was going to be huge advantage for Bruce.
------
Gordon stood in the middle of his own living room, only the light of the television to light up anything. He knew, however, that someone else was there with him from hilt of the knife at his throat and the arm around his neck. On most occasions Gordon would have been able to take the upper hand, but without his gun and being a bit out of shape since the heart attack, he really had no idea if he had it in him. He didn't want to risk his children's lives, either. Who knew if this guy was working with someone or not?
“So, how long until he usually shows?” the man asked sharply next to Gordon's ear, pressing the blade of the knife a little further into his skin. Gordon swallowed. He was regretting having told Babs to call Batman on the that cell phone, he was almost hoping he didn't pick up.
“H-he doesn't even know I'm in any danger,” Gordon said calmly, and the man tugged his arm around Gordon's neck tighter, his lips next to his ear, snarling.
“Don't think me stupid. I've been watching and I know he keeps tabs on you somehow. Now, how long do yo think until he shows?” Gordon saw the blade of the glint in the television light, and then in the same moment he saw a shadow move to his left. The man obviously didn't see it. If Batman could sneak up on this guy, there just might be a chance. Of course there was chance... they'd been through a lot worse situations than this before. This, to Batman, was likely just another off-chance situation where his friend was in danger. Again, nothing new. Gordon hoped it would be simple, easy... done with quickly.
“Ten, twenty minutes,” Gordon responded, and the man growled out a sigh of annoyance. More movement and suddenly Gordon found himself flat on the floor, glasses thrown off his face. He heard the sound of leather against skin and the snapping of bone, maybe a jaw. Gordon scrambled to find his glasses, patting around the floor near him. He found the wiry frames and placed them on the bridge of his nose. On the floor next tot him was the man, knocked out and knife sprawled across the floor.
Gordon used the chair to help himself to his feet. He could see the soft blue glow of the television beating off the armor in front of him. Batman held out a hand to help steady Gordon. Gordon nodded and walked over to the wall and flipped on the light. Batman was leaning over the man now and was linking his hands with standard police issued handcuffs. Gordon walked back towards the kids' bedrooms and opened the door. Babs was huddled in the corner with Jimmy, where he told them to be. He motioned his head out to the living room and the two got to their feet and followed him back down the hall.
Batman was standing over the man, arms crossed over his chest. Jimmy's eyes went wide, it had been a few years since he'd seen Batman up close. Batman nodded his head at the two and then looked back to Gordon.
“What did he want?”
“You,” Gordon said. He sighed, picking up the house phone and dialing the number for the police station. He told them what happened and the woman said she would send a squad car right away. Gordon turned back to Batman, expectantly.
“This is the same man I was investigating last night. He's not the murderer though, I know that much. I think he's being used as a cover-up,” Batman said. Gordon turned to his kids and motioned them to go to bed, they didn't need to be here for this and they had school in the morning.
“Why would he come after my family?” Gordon asked. “Were we really just bait for you?”
“Probably,” the Bat said. “After our run in, he's probably more than a little angry.” Batman glanced out the front window, seeing the red and blue lights coming down the street. “If they ask, you did this, and he was looking to see what information you had on the recent murders.” Gordon nodded, turning his head to sirens and when he looked back, the Bat was gone.
----
The man, come to find out, was a Crime Scene Unit Investigator. Once Gordon had gotten a good look at him, he recognized him immediately. Bullock told Gordon that after some interrogation, the man admitted that he was working for someone – the murderer – but he couldn't say who. He opted for jail time rather than give away his boss. Had it been Gordon he wouldn't have taken that, but Atkins let it slide and said they would find the real murderer soon enough. It was bullshit; Gordon and the Trio knew it.
It really sickened him to know that the job he took so seriously, the job he so loved for years, was being degraded down by a man who obviously didn't care what happened in Gotham City. If Gordon felt he had any authority he would march down to City Hall and tell the mayor exactly what he thought of Commissioner Atkins' work. But Garcia wasn't going to take that well, he'd likely tell Gordon to stop worrying and enjoy retirement.
He looked around him at the garden he had started. If this was retirement, he was fucking sick of it. He needed to do something else, gardening, jogging, and long walks were getting to be tedious and God he needed some excitement. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He scrolled through the list of names, every single person was either working at MCU, City Hall or Bruce Wayne.
Gordon hit the call button as it scrolled past Wayne's number. This was either the stupidest idea he ever had or the smartest. He was sure he wouldn't find out until later that day. The other line rang a few times and finally Wayne picked up.
“Jim?” he asked, surprised. “What can I do for you?”
-----
Wayne had asked Gordon to meet him at Wayne Enterprises. The billionaire said he had a few meetings to take care of and then he'd be free for the rest of the afternoon. Gordon had his chance to just skip out on their, uh, lunch 'date' they set up, but he felt almost bad about doing that, so he opted to keep it. He was the one to call Wayne, after all. It wasn't like he had much to do today and he was curious to see if Wayne's obvious injuries he was hiding on Sunday were still around or if he was going to try to hide new ones. Well, he wasn't just curious, he was concerned.
When the hell did he start caring about what happened to Wayne? When Wayne showed that he cared more about your family than himself... and that was the truth. Wayne was starting to prove himself, whether he meant to or not. He was good with Gordon's kids, he knew how to cook, and when not surrounded by press, he was not the self-centered, money throwing, playboy the media claimed him to be. In fact, Wayne never once mentioned any women or dates, for that matter.
Wayne was definitely hiding something with all these falsehoods, the lies and deceit he fed to the media. Gordon was glad to be exempt from that now, happy to have been proven wrong about his assumptions of the billionaire. He just wished the younger man would open up about everything else he was keeping secret. Gordon wanted to be his friend, but first Wayne had to allow that.
Gordon stood in Wayne's office after his secretary had let him in, explaining that Mister Wayne would be back in a few minutes, he was still wrapping up a meeting. Gordon poked around Wayne's office, noting the view over looking more than half of the business district of Gotham. The office itself was brightly lit by the large window, decorated in mostly sleek black, his desk and bookcase build of black metal and glass. Gordon looked over the books he had on the shelf; mostly titles on economics, mechanics, business, and what looked like a few sketch pads.
Gordon pulled out one of the sketch pads and flipped through it. He couldn't really place what he was looking at, mostly pieces of things that probably made more sense if put together with someone else, mechanical mostly. Wayne's signature sat at the bottom of each sketch, and Gordon found himself completely baffled. He didn't peg Wayne as a man who had an artistic flare. He put the pad back and pulled out another. This was filled with drawings of buildings around Gotham, sketched and almost perfect.
The door opened and Gordon couldn't think fast enough to put the pad back. He looked up at the man who entered the office – at Wayne. He didn't seem upset though to find Gordon snooping around. He merely smiled and walked over to Gordon and looked over his shoulder at the drawing he was gazing at.
“Another one of those things that people don't need to know about Bruce Wayne,” the billionaire said casually. “My mother painted a lot, had a big love for art. I use to take an after school art class when I was younger. Until my father found out. He didn't think a boy should have such a love for art.”
Gordon raised an eyebrow at him, closing the pad of paper and putting it back on the bookshelf. “He obviously didn't know how good you'd be at it. They're quite good.”
Wayne shrugged. “More of a hobby than anything. I didn't pick it back up until a returned to Gotham.” Gordon gazed when he mentioned returning to Gotham; it had always been a mystery to everyone just exactly where Wayne had been for those seven years. No one asked and Wayne never offered any answers. It really wasn't anyone's business. A lot of media rumored he'd gone away to some detox camp for drugged out billionaires. Others said he just went to travel the world, extremely unsettled by the events surrounding Joe Chill. Gordon wasn't sure he believed either of them.
“Have you designed anything that's been in production, yet?” Gordon asked, curiously. After seeing some of the technical and mechanical drawings in the other pad, he was sure some of them had to have been placed into production.
“Well, not in bulk. A few items have been made, but they're mostly prototypes until we decide whether to go through with them or not,” Wayne explained, but he also didn't offer to point out which drawings had been sent into production, either. Obviously not something he wanted to share, so Gordon didn't push his luck. Wayne shimmied out of his jacket and loosened his tie, placing the jacket over the back of his chair. “So, lunch? Anywhere you'd like to go? There are a lot of places here in the business district, or we can drive to where ever.”
“Your pick. I don't know anything about the restaurants around here,” Gordon said. He looked at his own casual appearance and then at Wayne getting himself as comfortable as possible. “Maybe away from the business district. Something that doesn't require a jacket or tie.” Wayne laughed, not looking too ready to put his suit jacket back on or straighten his tie for that matter.
“Alright. I'm sure we can find a place downtown that would be perfect.”
-----
They took Wayne's car to the downtown area, parking it at the public parking garage, and walking around for a bit. Neither of them had any idea where to go, Wayne suggested they just walk around a bit until something stuck out at them. Gordon wasn't in a hurry, if anything he was enjoying the unusual day out and not being alone. Some would say Wayne wasn't the best company to keep, but Gordon actually found him quite intriguing. Wayne had a good business sense about him, talking about the mergers Wayne Enterprises was going through, the buy out of businesses going under and what they were doing to help rebuild them and provide more jobs for the economy. Gordon was more than a little impressed.
They walked passed a small bistro and Gordon stopped. This one was vaguely familiar to him. It took him a few moments of staring at the menu to realize why. This was where he and Barbara shared their first dinner in Gotham together years ago. Wayne stopped next to him, peering at the menu. Most soups and salads, pastries, coffee – nothing too extreme. Wayne looked at Gordon approvingly, waiting to see if he wanted to eat here.
Move on, Jim. This will help the healing process. Gordon nodded at Wayne and the billionaire caught the attention of a waitress, who quickly seated them at a table outside, handing them the menus. Gordon knew he was just going to order a salad and probably more coffee. Always the coffee. Wayne seemed to know what he wanted and they ordered. Wayne, too, ordered just the salad.
“So, how has it been in the life of Jim Gordon these past few days?” Wayne asked. It had been three days since Wayne had been over at his house for dinner, and Gordon couldn't say they left on the best of terms, but Wayne seemed to be putting that aside or ignoring it. Gordon hadn't noticed him grimace in any pain today, so maybe it was a fluke thing – maybe it was golf. Having never played, Gordon wouldn't know.
“Boring. I had a doctors appointment yesterday. Was told I needed to change my diet again. Have to stay on the low fat end of things, apparently,” Gordon grumbled. The waitress brought out their coffees. Gordon added cream and sugar to his and watched as Bruce added, again, just sugar. He had to keep himself from reading too much into it. It's just coffee.
Wayne grinned at him, an genuinely friendly smile. “Well, we definitely don't need you getting another heart attack. I, for one, would be completely devastated.” He smirked slyly at Gordon.
Gordon took a sip of his coffee, looking at Wayne over the rim of his glasses. “Devastated, huh?”
“Completely,” Wayne said, taking a sip of his own coffee, hiding a mischievous smile behind the the brim. Gordon put his mug down and waited for Wayne to elaborate a little. Wayne put his mug down as well, hand still resting on the handle. “Who else would I cook with? Who would go have coffee with me? Who would feed me pancakes when Alfred wasn't looking?” Wayne moved his hands around with exaggeration, turning the whole sentimental value of what he was saying before into a big joke. But Gordon could tell that behind the jokes and sarcasm was still the same caring attitude. It was a little familiar to him, as if he had seen an felt it from someone else, someone who was not Bruce Wayne.
“I'm sure you'd find someone,” Gordon teased back. Wayne's face softened as he shifted in his seat, relaxing his posture.
“I don't think I'd want to.” Wayne sat back in his seat, his gaze didn't leave Gordon's, a long silent stretch that felt so right it almost awkward. Gordon flicked his eyes to his mug and brought up to his lips again as an excuse to break eye contact and the insecurity he was starting to feel in himself. When he looked back up again, Wayne was unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves and rolling them up. Gordon was happy to be wearing a light pair of pants and t-shirt, but Wayne looked to be getting a little hot.
“It's going to be a hot summer with the way spring has been warming up,” Gordon said, changing the subject. Wayne almost looked disappointed, but he didn't argue the switch in conversation.
“Let's hope not,” Wayne said. “Summer in Gotham is hot enough, any hotter and I –” Wayne stopped himself, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at his hand that was grasping the handle of his coffee mug. He bit his lip, and Gordon raised an eyebrow in question.
“You'll what, Bruce?” he asked. Wayne blinked as he looked at Gordon again. A smile appeared on his face, but this one was more uncomfortable than before.
“I'll, uh, have to plan a trip to Hawaii,” he said, but Gordon had a feeling that wasn't what he was actually going to say. Wayne sighed, leaning his elbows onto the table, hands folded and brought up so that his chin was resting on them. “Jim, there's a few things you should really know...” he trailed off, seeing the waitress come with their salads. She placed them down in front of them and Gordon picked up his fork and looked at Wayne to continue. But he didn't.
“Bruce?” Gordon questioned. He had a feeling that the billionaire had something important to tell him, a piece of whatever the mystery was about him that would finally let everything make sense. Bruce shook his head, picking up his own fork and stabbing at the Cobb salad.
“It's not important,” he said, obviously having had thought over what he wanted to say. Gordon stared at the younger man a long time, watching him eat and trying to figure out exactly what was going on in his head. It was important, Gordon knew, and that was why Wayne didn't want to say anything. It was one of his bigger secrets, if not the biggest – Gordon was sure of that. Maybe he had to gain a little more of Wayne's trust in order for him to talk to Gordon more openly.
Whatever this secret was, it was obviously not something Wayne wanted taken lightly.
“So, um, Jim?” Wayne asked after a few minutes. He put his fork down and looked at the man apathetically. Gordon looked at him to continue on. He knew this had nothing to do with the previous conversation. “That charity auction is coming up. The guest list is getting to be, uhm, a lot of older rich ladies...” Wayne started to look uncomfortable, reaching up and loosening the two buttons on his collar. Gordon wanted to laugh. “You mentioned finding a friend to go in and bid on me, I think that was a smart idea.”
“Oh? I was kidding, you know, but I guess It could work. Who are you going to ask?” Gordon asked, stabbing at his salad again. Wayne didn't answer right away and Gordon looked back up at him as he was about to put a forkful of lettuce in his mouth. He started to shake his head, putting the fork down. “No, no, no. I meant a lady friend.”
Wayne sighed. “I don't really have any lady 'friends'. Most of them only want one thing, and... No,” he shook his head in annoyance. He looked at Gordon with his eyebrows wrinkled in, softening his eyes and giving him an all around puppy dog look. Gordon wanted to beat his head into the table for falling for such a dirty trick.
“Bruce...” He began, but the billionaire almost pouting at him. Gordon sighed. “Fine.” God, what was he getting himself into?