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Momentum:
Chapter Twelve
written by destinyawakened
Gordon woke the next morning completely dumbstruck by what had happened the night before. He and Batman were close friends, been there for each other through a lot, Batman had been there to comfort him when had Barbara died. He couldn't look himself in the mirror, however, and tell himself he didn't feel something for the vigilante, and when he did try, it felt like a lie. He began to wonder, as he trimmed his mustache and shaved the rest of his face, just how long he had felt this way. Surely not before Barbara had died; he had never so much as even looked at another woman, let alone anyone for that matter. A couple months then, he thought, if that.
But the fact was it was Batman – he almost kissed Batman. A man who clearly cared about Gordon and his family, and as much as Gordon thought trying to pursue that action again might be interesting, he knew he couldn't let that happen. He knew nothing about Batman aside from what the vigilante showed him. Gordon didn't know his real name, what he looked like under the cowl, what he did for a living during the day. Gordon wasn't looking for something to invest only part of himself into, and that what getting involved with Batman would be like. Gordon, if he was going to give himself to anyone, he want to be able to give it all and have it returned.
He was sure Batman would understand that. So why did he feel that he still wanted to press forward with testing the water there? He knew it wasn't something he wanted, because Batman couldn't give him what he needed, and yet there was this inkling to just do it.
Looking himself over in the mirror as he rinsed his face, Gordon felt more confused. He knew that Barbara would want him to be happy, to move on. But it wasn't Barbara he felt he was betraying here, and he couldn't quite place the feeling he was having. He sighed, dried his face and walked out into the living room. He'd face the situation head on when it presented itself again. If it presented itself again; who knew what Batman was thinking.
-----
That Saturday Gordon woke to the feeling of someone watching him. He didn't open his eyes, he merely covered his head with his pillow and buried himself deeper into the covers. He told Babs last night he wasn't in the mood for a run that morning and that he really just wanted to sleep in. He was feeling a big down since Batman hadn't been by since that evening they almost kissed. Maybe Gordon wasn't the only one feeling a tad regretful. Or maybe Batman just wasn't sure what Gordon was thinking. A few days apart couldn't hurt the situation and yet Gordon still felt a bit depressed about it; he didn't want this to ruin their friendship.
There was an impatient sigh a few feet from his head, and Gordon finally peeked out from under his pillow, looking at a tall blurry figure in front of him. He reached over to the nightstand, palmed his glassed and forced them on his face. He pushed back the pillow further and found he now face-to-face with Bruce Wayne. The billionaire was kneeling down by the side of the bed, a smile plastered on his handsome features, looking at Gordon with a raised eyebrow.
“He lives,” Wayne said, a little too unimpressed. He stood, pacing back a few steps. Gordon raised himself up to his elbows, looking at Bruce groggily.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, bringing a hand up under his glasses to wipe at his eyes.
“About ten minutes,” Wayne said, looking at his watch. Gordon blinked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, hands on his knees. He was such a light sleeper, he was surprised by himself that he didn't notice Wayne standing there sooner. He looked up at Wayne in confusion.
“Ten minutes? I must be losing my touch,” Gordon sighed. Wayne had his hands in his pockets and was now smirking at Gordon, as if he knew something he didn't. “What time is it?”
“Little after eight,” Wayne replied, handing Gordon his robe from the chair by the bed. Gordon took it, stood, and wrapped it around himself. He blinked a few times at Wayne, who was still smirking like an idiot.
“And you're here this early why?” Gordon asked motioning him out the door. Wayne walked out into the hall and Gordon followed, shuffling as he was still trying to wake up.
“I'm here to take you shopping for next Saturday,” Wayne replied. Gordon sighed, next Saturday... what was next Saturday? Oh, right the auction. He still needed to talk to Wayne about that, it just was not going to work.
“Yeah, about that, Bruce,” Gordon started to say as they walked into the kitchen. Babs and Jimmy were up and dressed and eating donuts at the kitchen table. Gordon looked to Wayne with a scowl. “You brought donuts?”
Wayne shrugged. “I called before I came over and Jimmy said to bring donuts. I know it's not in your diet, so if you don't want to cheat this one day, I'll be happy to make you something.” He stopped at a chair by the table, leaning a hand on it casually. Gordon stared at Wayne in a good amount of disbelief. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if Bruce Wayne had just offered to make him breakfast in his own home.
“Excuse me? You're going to what?” Gordon asked, shaking his head a little as he tried rid his head of the sleep still bogging him down.
“Breakfast, Jim. Do you like omelets?” Wayne walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out eggs Gordon didn't know they had, cheese, and chopped ham he was sure wasn't in there last night. The billionaire even brought his own damn ingredients.
“Uh, yes, I do. Bruce you don't –” Gordon started to say but Wayne walked up to him and put his palm firmly over Gordon's mouth, looking at him pointedly.
“Sit down, drink your damn coffee, and shut up,” Wayne said sternly. He removed his hand and pushed Gordon down into a chair at the table. There was a steaming cup of coffee sitting there with just the right amount of cream and sugar. Babs smiled at him as she ate he apple fritter and Jimmy was laughing at the way Bruce took charge and Gordon had let him.
“Don't get any ideas,” Gordon said to his son, and Jimmy just grinned wider. Bruce, it seemed, had an excellent memory and remembered where they kept their bowls, silverware, and pans. Gordon watched as the billionaire whipped together the eggs for the omelet, adding in the cheese and ham and then poured in into the pan as if he did this on a regular basis.
“Bruce said he's taking us all to the downtown mall today, Dad,” Jimmy said with some enthusiasm. It was the most excited Gordon had seen his son in months.
“That so?” Gordon asked, looking from his son to Wayne, who looked over at him briefly, but didn't show any emotion over the subject.
“Mhm,” Babs chimed in, and she too looked just as exciting as Jimmy did about going. The downtown mall was one of those shopping centers they had never been to, and for good reason – it was the where only the very wealthy shopped, no one else could afford to spend money there. Gordon sighed inwardly and sipped his coffee as he glared at Bruce. If the billionaire thought he could afford to shop there, he was more delusional than Gordon actually thought.
Wayne plated the omelet, grabbed and fork, and placed it on the table in front of Gordon. He then took his cup of coffee from the counter and sat down next to Gordon, motioning at the eggs sitting on the plate. Gordon poked at him, almost sad to see such a beautiful creation (something he had never been able to make correctly) be eaten. He cut into the eggs with his fork and took a bite. He looked at Wayne and shook his head.
“Damn you,” he cursed as he took another bite, and Wayne just smiled slyly at him, sipping his coffee.
-----
They arrived at Downtown Gotham Plaza a little over an hour later, once Gordon had showered and gotten dressed. Jimmy told them he was going to go check out the six gaming stores and Babs opted to stay with them. Gordon didn't mind, it took his mind off the auction next weekend for a little bit. That was until they walked into one of the more prestigious suiting shops in Gotham. Wayne walked over to the sales lady, as if he knew her, and motioned to Gordon. She smiled politely and Wayne motioned Gordon and Babs over.
The lady took Gordon's measurements and then went to find him a suit that would work. Wayne was sitting down next to Babs in the waiting chairs just outside dressing room area. Gordon stood on one of the fitting platforms in front of them, uncomfortably. He glared at Wayne as the woman brought him out a sleek black tux and ushered him into a room to try it on. Gordon sighed as he shut the door and began to strip down. The woman said something to Wayne and then the clicking of her heels as she walked away from the fitting rooms.
“Doing okay, Jim?” Wayne called from outside the door. Gordon was removing his own pants and t-shirt, staring at all the buttons on the tailored suit shirt the woman had given him to try on with the suit. There were more pieces to the tux than he had ever worn before. Jacket, cummerbund, pants, belt... Gordon didn't even want to think what this was going to cost him.
“Fine,” Gordon replied, slipping the pants on, and attempting to button the twenty buttons on the shirt. “Do I really have to try on all the accessories?” This would take forever.
“Yes. That's the point of trying it on. You won't know if its a good fit if you don't,” Wayne said pressingly. Gordon sighed and put vest on, buttoning that, and then the suspenders. After a few minutes Wayne spoke again; “Do you need some help, Jim?” There was a sly tone to his voice, and Gordon opened the door and glared at him, having just put the last piece of the suit on.
“No,” he growled at the billionaire. Gordon stepped out of the room, hands on his hips. Wayne pushed Gordon's arms down, and straightened the suit around the shoulders and arms, tugging at the bottom of the jacket sleeves, and smoothing down the lapels.
“How's it fit in the waist?” Wayne asked in a lower tone, his fingertips just brushing the waistband of the slacks. Gordon nearly jumped, his eyes meeting Wayne's for the first time since he had walked out of the dressing room.
“Fine,” Gordon replied, mimicking Wayne's tone. What he had meant to say was 'where is sales lady' but his brain didn't compute it in time, and Wayne was already saying something else.
“And the rise?” Wayne questioned, his hand was on Gordon's hip, and his tone had gotten remarkably lower. Wayne had an intense gaze in his eyes, and Gordon found he just couldn't look away; it was familiar and powerful, and like drowning but being able to breathe.
“Fine,” Gordon replied again as their faces were just centimeters apart. Wayne brought his other hand to Gordon's face, fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling his head in closer until their lips touched softly. There was nothing needy there, just a delicate brush of lips, small kisses against each other's mouths, slowly paced and down right perfect. Gordon placed a hand on Wayne's chest to part them slightly, their eyes meeting again. They heard the clicking of heels approaching and Wayne pulled away from him completely, but didn't let their gaze falter.
The woman came walked into the area and looked Gordon over approvingly. “I think this tuxedo suits you very well. Does it fit comfortably?” Gordon looked at her and then at Wayne who was covering his smirk with his hand.
“Yes, it fits perfectly,” Gordon answered, walking back into the dressing room to take the suit off. He took all the pieces off and placed them on the hanger and dressed back into his own clothing. He walked out and handed it to the lady, who went to the back of the store to find a garment bag for it.
Gordon was going to say something to Wayne, but saw that he had left. So, Gordon walked back out to the waiting area and saw that Wayne and Babs were sitting again, looking through catalogs at dresses. Babs was pointing out a few beautiful gowns, looking up when Gordon was standing in front of them. Babs smiled and Wayne looked up at him, flashing him a crooked little grin.
“I'm not sure I can afford that tuxedo,” Gordon said, sighing. Wayne shook his head at him, standing.
“Don't worry about it. I roped you into this auction, I'll take care of it,” Wayne said, placing a hand on Gordon's shoulder. He put his free hand out to Babs and she handed him the catalog. “Was it the purple one you wanted?” Gordon moved his gaze from Babs to Wayne, and the billionaire smiled. “I got to thinking about how awkward the auction was going to be for you, not even three months after your wife's...” Wayne gestured a 'you know' hand movement, not wanting to offend. “So, I asked that Babs accompany you to the auction. It'll seem less weird if she does the bidding.”
Gordon felt his mouth drop open a bit. His first thought was that Babs was underage, but then he remembered his daughter had recently turned eighteen. It would look weird either way, but less so than a fifty something year old ex-commissioner bidding on a thirty-five year old billionaire, playboy. He looked at Wayne and then to Babs, who smiled pressingly at him. Obviously she didn't mind, and it would be her first official Gotham party.
And Gordon had to say he felt a little relieved to know that he wouldn't be making a total fool of himself bidding on Bruce Wayne.
“Jim?” Wayne asked, squeezing his shoulder. Gordon nodded and gave Wayne a sincere smile. The billionaire took the catalog and left to go find the sales lady. Gordon sat down next to Babs and she wrapped her arms around his bicep, laying her head on his shoulder.
“You smell like Bruce,” she mentioned, but not making a big deal of it. Gordon looked down at her out of the corner of her eyes.
“He was, uh, helping me with the suit,” Gordon commented as he stumbled for the words. Babs snuggled her head onto his shoulder a little more.
“I like Bruce, Dad. He really has been good for you. I definitely see an improvement,” Babs said softly, almost a whisper to him, hugging his arm tighter. He had heard her say things like this before, but it was always nice to hear when one of his kids took notice
“Improvement from what?” he asked her in the same whisper.
“Everything.”
-----
They spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, returned home and Wayne helped them make dinner, which happened to be some chicken casserole dish that Babs picked out of one of her mother's cookbooks. It turned out well, but Babs and Wayne didn't let Gordon or Jimmy help out at all. After dinner Wayne said he needed to get going before he had another earful from Alfred, which Gordon had heard about the other day. Jimmy and Babs said their goodbyes and Gordon walked Wayne outside.
Gordon shut the door behind him, faced with Wayne in front of him, not even two feet away. They hadn't had a moment to themselves the rest of the day to talk about what happened in the dressing room. Wayne, for once, looked uncomfortable as Gordon looked him over curiously. Wayne finally tipped his head to the side slightly, one hand in his pocket.
“I don't want to start anything that you aren't comfortable with,” Wayne said quietly. He kept his distance, obviously afraid that maybe he had stepped over a line earlier that day. If that was the case, Gordon would have pushed him away, told him no – he hadn't done that. Gordon was surprised, to say the least, but it all felt right. Maybe this was what he had been feeling earlier in the week when he nearly kissed Batman, maybe Wayne was the person he felt he'd be betraying.
There was a lot of things, however, Gordon was worried about and wanted to know about Wayne before they stepped any closer to something more serious – things he wasn't sure Wayne was willing to divulge. Gordon wanted to know about the injuries, the trouble Wayne obviously got himself into. Gordon didn't buy the golfing lies.
“It's not a matter of being comfortable, it's a matter of trust and taking things at an slow pace,” Gordon said, folding his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes on Wayne. The billionaire seemed confused, raising his eyebrows, a gesture for Gordon to explain. “I'm not ready to rush into anything, you know that, and I know that you're respectful of that. And there's also this...” Gordon squinted his eyes to try and find the best way to explain to Wayne the things he'd observed over the past few weeks. “This issues of trust. I know you keep your secrets, I've seen first hand that you have quite a few you don't tell anyone. For good reason, too, I assume.”
“What are you getting at, Jim?” Wayne asked, confusion still written on his face, but in his eyes Gordon saw that he understood more than he was letting on. Gordon stepped towards Wayne, closing the distance between them.
“If you want anything from me you're going to have to be openly honest and truthful. I don't want any of these lies you feed to the press, I don't want to be the person you tell half truths to until you're tired of telling them anything at all. If you really are serious about this and you want my friendship and my trust and my honesty then you're going to have to give me the same.” Gordon watched as something clicked in Wayne's eyes, as if he was aware that Gordon knew he wasn't always completely honest with him. Gordon didn't expect an answer right away, because for a man like Wayne, who lied often to keep his real personal life out of the media, it would take some thinking over.
Gordon placed his hands on either side of Wayne's arms, seeing a vulnerability in the younger man's face. It would be wrong, or at least feel wrong, to date a man a good fifteen years or more younger than himself... he was almost old enough to be his father. That didn't seem to bother Gordon in the least, though. And it obviously didn't bother Wayne.
“Think it over, son,” he found himself saying, watching a light flicker in Wayne eyes at the words. “I'll be here if you want to talk this week. If nothing else, Babs and I will see you next Saturday.” Gordon wanted it apparent that even if Wayne didn't want to pursue what he started that morning in the store, Gordon would still be there for him if he needed him. Wayne nodded. Gordon lowered his hands from the billionaire's arms.
“Goodnight, Jim,” Wayne said, grasping Gordon's hand tightly for a second before letting go. He walked away, hands in his pockets, to his car.
For Gordon, the bigger question was how to explain this to Batman.
But the fact was it was Batman – he almost kissed Batman. A man who clearly cared about Gordon and his family, and as much as Gordon thought trying to pursue that action again might be interesting, he knew he couldn't let that happen. He knew nothing about Batman aside from what the vigilante showed him. Gordon didn't know his real name, what he looked like under the cowl, what he did for a living during the day. Gordon wasn't looking for something to invest only part of himself into, and that what getting involved with Batman would be like. Gordon, if he was going to give himself to anyone, he want to be able to give it all and have it returned.
He was sure Batman would understand that. So why did he feel that he still wanted to press forward with testing the water there? He knew it wasn't something he wanted, because Batman couldn't give him what he needed, and yet there was this inkling to just do it.
Looking himself over in the mirror as he rinsed his face, Gordon felt more confused. He knew that Barbara would want him to be happy, to move on. But it wasn't Barbara he felt he was betraying here, and he couldn't quite place the feeling he was having. He sighed, dried his face and walked out into the living room. He'd face the situation head on when it presented itself again. If it presented itself again; who knew what Batman was thinking.
-----
That Saturday Gordon woke to the feeling of someone watching him. He didn't open his eyes, he merely covered his head with his pillow and buried himself deeper into the covers. He told Babs last night he wasn't in the mood for a run that morning and that he really just wanted to sleep in. He was feeling a big down since Batman hadn't been by since that evening they almost kissed. Maybe Gordon wasn't the only one feeling a tad regretful. Or maybe Batman just wasn't sure what Gordon was thinking. A few days apart couldn't hurt the situation and yet Gordon still felt a bit depressed about it; he didn't want this to ruin their friendship.
There was an impatient sigh a few feet from his head, and Gordon finally peeked out from under his pillow, looking at a tall blurry figure in front of him. He reached over to the nightstand, palmed his glassed and forced them on his face. He pushed back the pillow further and found he now face-to-face with Bruce Wayne. The billionaire was kneeling down by the side of the bed, a smile plastered on his handsome features, looking at Gordon with a raised eyebrow.
“He lives,” Wayne said, a little too unimpressed. He stood, pacing back a few steps. Gordon raised himself up to his elbows, looking at Bruce groggily.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, bringing a hand up under his glasses to wipe at his eyes.
“About ten minutes,” Wayne said, looking at his watch. Gordon blinked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, hands on his knees. He was such a light sleeper, he was surprised by himself that he didn't notice Wayne standing there sooner. He looked up at Wayne in confusion.
“Ten minutes? I must be losing my touch,” Gordon sighed. Wayne had his hands in his pockets and was now smirking at Gordon, as if he knew something he didn't. “What time is it?”
“Little after eight,” Wayne replied, handing Gordon his robe from the chair by the bed. Gordon took it, stood, and wrapped it around himself. He blinked a few times at Wayne, who was still smirking like an idiot.
“And you're here this early why?” Gordon asked motioning him out the door. Wayne walked out into the hall and Gordon followed, shuffling as he was still trying to wake up.
“I'm here to take you shopping for next Saturday,” Wayne replied. Gordon sighed, next Saturday... what was next Saturday? Oh, right the auction. He still needed to talk to Wayne about that, it just was not going to work.
“Yeah, about that, Bruce,” Gordon started to say as they walked into the kitchen. Babs and Jimmy were up and dressed and eating donuts at the kitchen table. Gordon looked to Wayne with a scowl. “You brought donuts?”
Wayne shrugged. “I called before I came over and Jimmy said to bring donuts. I know it's not in your diet, so if you don't want to cheat this one day, I'll be happy to make you something.” He stopped at a chair by the table, leaning a hand on it casually. Gordon stared at Wayne in a good amount of disbelief. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if Bruce Wayne had just offered to make him breakfast in his own home.
“Excuse me? You're going to what?” Gordon asked, shaking his head a little as he tried rid his head of the sleep still bogging him down.
“Breakfast, Jim. Do you like omelets?” Wayne walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out eggs Gordon didn't know they had, cheese, and chopped ham he was sure wasn't in there last night. The billionaire even brought his own damn ingredients.
“Uh, yes, I do. Bruce you don't –” Gordon started to say but Wayne walked up to him and put his palm firmly over Gordon's mouth, looking at him pointedly.
“Sit down, drink your damn coffee, and shut up,” Wayne said sternly. He removed his hand and pushed Gordon down into a chair at the table. There was a steaming cup of coffee sitting there with just the right amount of cream and sugar. Babs smiled at him as she ate he apple fritter and Jimmy was laughing at the way Bruce took charge and Gordon had let him.
“Don't get any ideas,” Gordon said to his son, and Jimmy just grinned wider. Bruce, it seemed, had an excellent memory and remembered where they kept their bowls, silverware, and pans. Gordon watched as the billionaire whipped together the eggs for the omelet, adding in the cheese and ham and then poured in into the pan as if he did this on a regular basis.
“Bruce said he's taking us all to the downtown mall today, Dad,” Jimmy said with some enthusiasm. It was the most excited Gordon had seen his son in months.
“That so?” Gordon asked, looking from his son to Wayne, who looked over at him briefly, but didn't show any emotion over the subject.
“Mhm,” Babs chimed in, and she too looked just as exciting as Jimmy did about going. The downtown mall was one of those shopping centers they had never been to, and for good reason – it was the where only the very wealthy shopped, no one else could afford to spend money there. Gordon sighed inwardly and sipped his coffee as he glared at Bruce. If the billionaire thought he could afford to shop there, he was more delusional than Gordon actually thought.
Wayne plated the omelet, grabbed and fork, and placed it on the table in front of Gordon. He then took his cup of coffee from the counter and sat down next to Gordon, motioning at the eggs sitting on the plate. Gordon poked at him, almost sad to see such a beautiful creation (something he had never been able to make correctly) be eaten. He cut into the eggs with his fork and took a bite. He looked at Wayne and shook his head.
“Damn you,” he cursed as he took another bite, and Wayne just smiled slyly at him, sipping his coffee.
-----
They arrived at Downtown Gotham Plaza a little over an hour later, once Gordon had showered and gotten dressed. Jimmy told them he was going to go check out the six gaming stores and Babs opted to stay with them. Gordon didn't mind, it took his mind off the auction next weekend for a little bit. That was until they walked into one of the more prestigious suiting shops in Gotham. Wayne walked over to the sales lady, as if he knew her, and motioned to Gordon. She smiled politely and Wayne motioned Gordon and Babs over.
The lady took Gordon's measurements and then went to find him a suit that would work. Wayne was sitting down next to Babs in the waiting chairs just outside dressing room area. Gordon stood on one of the fitting platforms in front of them, uncomfortably. He glared at Wayne as the woman brought him out a sleek black tux and ushered him into a room to try it on. Gordon sighed as he shut the door and began to strip down. The woman said something to Wayne and then the clicking of her heels as she walked away from the fitting rooms.
“Doing okay, Jim?” Wayne called from outside the door. Gordon was removing his own pants and t-shirt, staring at all the buttons on the tailored suit shirt the woman had given him to try on with the suit. There were more pieces to the tux than he had ever worn before. Jacket, cummerbund, pants, belt... Gordon didn't even want to think what this was going to cost him.
“Fine,” Gordon replied, slipping the pants on, and attempting to button the twenty buttons on the shirt. “Do I really have to try on all the accessories?” This would take forever.
“Yes. That's the point of trying it on. You won't know if its a good fit if you don't,” Wayne said pressingly. Gordon sighed and put vest on, buttoning that, and then the suspenders. After a few minutes Wayne spoke again; “Do you need some help, Jim?” There was a sly tone to his voice, and Gordon opened the door and glared at him, having just put the last piece of the suit on.
“No,” he growled at the billionaire. Gordon stepped out of the room, hands on his hips. Wayne pushed Gordon's arms down, and straightened the suit around the shoulders and arms, tugging at the bottom of the jacket sleeves, and smoothing down the lapels.
“How's it fit in the waist?” Wayne asked in a lower tone, his fingertips just brushing the waistband of the slacks. Gordon nearly jumped, his eyes meeting Wayne's for the first time since he had walked out of the dressing room.
“Fine,” Gordon replied, mimicking Wayne's tone. What he had meant to say was 'where is sales lady' but his brain didn't compute it in time, and Wayne was already saying something else.
“And the rise?” Wayne questioned, his hand was on Gordon's hip, and his tone had gotten remarkably lower. Wayne had an intense gaze in his eyes, and Gordon found he just couldn't look away; it was familiar and powerful, and like drowning but being able to breathe.
“Fine,” Gordon replied again as their faces were just centimeters apart. Wayne brought his other hand to Gordon's face, fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling his head in closer until their lips touched softly. There was nothing needy there, just a delicate brush of lips, small kisses against each other's mouths, slowly paced and down right perfect. Gordon placed a hand on Wayne's chest to part them slightly, their eyes meeting again. They heard the clicking of heels approaching and Wayne pulled away from him completely, but didn't let their gaze falter.
The woman came walked into the area and looked Gordon over approvingly. “I think this tuxedo suits you very well. Does it fit comfortably?” Gordon looked at her and then at Wayne who was covering his smirk with his hand.
“Yes, it fits perfectly,” Gordon answered, walking back into the dressing room to take the suit off. He took all the pieces off and placed them on the hanger and dressed back into his own clothing. He walked out and handed it to the lady, who went to the back of the store to find a garment bag for it.
Gordon was going to say something to Wayne, but saw that he had left. So, Gordon walked back out to the waiting area and saw that Wayne and Babs were sitting again, looking through catalogs at dresses. Babs was pointing out a few beautiful gowns, looking up when Gordon was standing in front of them. Babs smiled and Wayne looked up at him, flashing him a crooked little grin.
“I'm not sure I can afford that tuxedo,” Gordon said, sighing. Wayne shook his head at him, standing.
“Don't worry about it. I roped you into this auction, I'll take care of it,” Wayne said, placing a hand on Gordon's shoulder. He put his free hand out to Babs and she handed him the catalog. “Was it the purple one you wanted?” Gordon moved his gaze from Babs to Wayne, and the billionaire smiled. “I got to thinking about how awkward the auction was going to be for you, not even three months after your wife's...” Wayne gestured a 'you know' hand movement, not wanting to offend. “So, I asked that Babs accompany you to the auction. It'll seem less weird if she does the bidding.”
Gordon felt his mouth drop open a bit. His first thought was that Babs was underage, but then he remembered his daughter had recently turned eighteen. It would look weird either way, but less so than a fifty something year old ex-commissioner bidding on a thirty-five year old billionaire, playboy. He looked at Wayne and then to Babs, who smiled pressingly at him. Obviously she didn't mind, and it would be her first official Gotham party.
And Gordon had to say he felt a little relieved to know that he wouldn't be making a total fool of himself bidding on Bruce Wayne.
“Jim?” Wayne asked, squeezing his shoulder. Gordon nodded and gave Wayne a sincere smile. The billionaire took the catalog and left to go find the sales lady. Gordon sat down next to Babs and she wrapped her arms around his bicep, laying her head on his shoulder.
“You smell like Bruce,” she mentioned, but not making a big deal of it. Gordon looked down at her out of the corner of her eyes.
“He was, uh, helping me with the suit,” Gordon commented as he stumbled for the words. Babs snuggled her head onto his shoulder a little more.
“I like Bruce, Dad. He really has been good for you. I definitely see an improvement,” Babs said softly, almost a whisper to him, hugging his arm tighter. He had heard her say things like this before, but it was always nice to hear when one of his kids took notice
“Improvement from what?” he asked her in the same whisper.
“Everything.”
-----
They spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, returned home and Wayne helped them make dinner, which happened to be some chicken casserole dish that Babs picked out of one of her mother's cookbooks. It turned out well, but Babs and Wayne didn't let Gordon or Jimmy help out at all. After dinner Wayne said he needed to get going before he had another earful from Alfred, which Gordon had heard about the other day. Jimmy and Babs said their goodbyes and Gordon walked Wayne outside.
Gordon shut the door behind him, faced with Wayne in front of him, not even two feet away. They hadn't had a moment to themselves the rest of the day to talk about what happened in the dressing room. Wayne, for once, looked uncomfortable as Gordon looked him over curiously. Wayne finally tipped his head to the side slightly, one hand in his pocket.
“I don't want to start anything that you aren't comfortable with,” Wayne said quietly. He kept his distance, obviously afraid that maybe he had stepped over a line earlier that day. If that was the case, Gordon would have pushed him away, told him no – he hadn't done that. Gordon was surprised, to say the least, but it all felt right. Maybe this was what he had been feeling earlier in the week when he nearly kissed Batman, maybe Wayne was the person he felt he'd be betraying.
There was a lot of things, however, Gordon was worried about and wanted to know about Wayne before they stepped any closer to something more serious – things he wasn't sure Wayne was willing to divulge. Gordon wanted to know about the injuries, the trouble Wayne obviously got himself into. Gordon didn't buy the golfing lies.
“It's not a matter of being comfortable, it's a matter of trust and taking things at an slow pace,” Gordon said, folding his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes on Wayne. The billionaire seemed confused, raising his eyebrows, a gesture for Gordon to explain. “I'm not ready to rush into anything, you know that, and I know that you're respectful of that. And there's also this...” Gordon squinted his eyes to try and find the best way to explain to Wayne the things he'd observed over the past few weeks. “This issues of trust. I know you keep your secrets, I've seen first hand that you have quite a few you don't tell anyone. For good reason, too, I assume.”
“What are you getting at, Jim?” Wayne asked, confusion still written on his face, but in his eyes Gordon saw that he understood more than he was letting on. Gordon stepped towards Wayne, closing the distance between them.
“If you want anything from me you're going to have to be openly honest and truthful. I don't want any of these lies you feed to the press, I don't want to be the person you tell half truths to until you're tired of telling them anything at all. If you really are serious about this and you want my friendship and my trust and my honesty then you're going to have to give me the same.” Gordon watched as something clicked in Wayne's eyes, as if he was aware that Gordon knew he wasn't always completely honest with him. Gordon didn't expect an answer right away, because for a man like Wayne, who lied often to keep his real personal life out of the media, it would take some thinking over.
Gordon placed his hands on either side of Wayne's arms, seeing a vulnerability in the younger man's face. It would be wrong, or at least feel wrong, to date a man a good fifteen years or more younger than himself... he was almost old enough to be his father. That didn't seem to bother Gordon in the least, though. And it obviously didn't bother Wayne.
“Think it over, son,” he found himself saying, watching a light flicker in Wayne eyes at the words. “I'll be here if you want to talk this week. If nothing else, Babs and I will see you next Saturday.” Gordon wanted it apparent that even if Wayne didn't want to pursue what he started that morning in the store, Gordon would still be there for him if he needed him. Wayne nodded. Gordon lowered his hands from the billionaire's arms.
“Goodnight, Jim,” Wayne said, grasping Gordon's hand tightly for a second before letting go. He walked away, hands in his pockets, to his car.
For Gordon, the bigger question was how to explain this to Batman.