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Momentum:
Chapter Nine
written by destinyawakened
Gordon was happy to see that Babs more than enjoyed her birthday dinner, even though he knew that the sauce didn't quite taste the same as the way Barbara used to make it. But Babs was nice enough not to say anything. Jimmy didn't seem to care either way, keeping comments to himself. Wayne scarfed it down like he hadn't eaten in months, which Gordon knew wasn't true because he had made him breakfast that morning. If Wayne mentioned not eating spaghetti in over twelve years as well, Gordon was going to have to go have a talk with his butler, Alfred. That just wasn't right.
Wayne didn't say anything like that though, thankfully.
The cake was perfect and Babs loved it as well. It was strawberry shortcake, her favorite. Jimmy picked at his piece while the rest of them devoured it. Wayne was nicest enough to clean up the dishes, places them in sink and then start to wash them. He motioned for Gordon to sit back down, to have a moment with his daughter on her birthday. Gordon didn't complain, and the welcomed time was much appreciated. Jimmy stood and went to help Wayne and they talked quietly to themselves as Gordon watched the billionaire wash each dish and then hand it to Jimmy to dry.
It started to feel a little surreal, to see Bruce Wayne in his kitchen doing domestic duties, and yet it also felt... right. This was a side of Wayne no one got to see, likely not even his butler. Babs smiled at her Dad as she caught him watching the two in the kitchen cleaning.
“He's been really good for Jimmy,” Babs noted, patting her Dad's hand. Gordon nodded.
“He has. A bit unbelievable,” Gordon mumbled. He looked at his daughter sighed. “I know that having him here was probably not on your birthday schedule for family dinner. I'm really sorry, sweetie.”
Babs shook her head, a smile spreading on her face. “Don't be sorry. I don't mind, Dad.” She shrugged her shoulders and leaned in towards him coyly. “And its nice to see that you have a friend.”
Gordon raised an eyebrow at her questionably. “I think that's pushing it.”
“No, I don't think so. Sometimes good friends are unexpected, Dad. Just be happy you have one.” Babs said as she stood up from the table. She leaned over and kissed her head on the cheek. “I'm going to take a shower and get ready for bed.”
He nodded at her, focusing his attention back to the two in the kitchen, both were now drying dishes and putting them away. Wayne said something that Gordon couldn't hear and Jimmy laughed. Gordon stared in surprised; Jimmy hadn't laughed in nearly ten months. Gordon looked down at the coffee mug in his hand, smiling inwardly. Having Wayne around had its advantages. Jimmy liked him, looked up to him possibly and Gordon, well... he'd be the first to admit that he was wrong about Bruce Wayne. There was a spark about the billionaire, an air of mystery even. Secrets, Wayne had said, as if secrets were an every day thing – a part of who he was. Gordon would believe it, because he was starting to see through them.
The two finished and Jimmy headed down the hall to get ready for bed. Wayne took a clean mug from the counter top and poured himself a cup of coffee. He then added sugar and went to sit next to Gordon. Gordon watched him, noting the way he took his coffee. There shouldn't have been a significance to it, a lot of people preferred just sugar in their coffee.
Another little fact to file away for later.
“So, this auction of yours. When does that take place?” Gordon asked after a sip of his own coffee. Wayne looked down into his mug and then to Gordon.
“A couple weeks,” Wayne answered. Gordon wasn't sure why he asked, probably more morbid curiosity than anything else. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. After a few minutes Wayne spoke again; “So, how's retirement treating you?”
Gordon placed his mug down and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Do you really want to know?” Wayne shrugged, a small friendly smile on his face. “I'm bored to death. I think I'm more likely to have another heart attack out boredom than I was working behind a desk most of the time.”
Wayne snorted. “I'm sure they'd welcome you back with open arms.”
“Maybe,” Gordon said with a shrug. “Okay, yes. I haven't heard from Garcia, but everyone else tells me that things are getting worse...” He found himself trailing off as Wayne watched him closely, giving his full attention. Gordon shouldn't be talking to Wayne about these things, it wasn't his business. “It's not likely.”
Wayne nodded, and there was a sadness in his eyes that Gordon couldn't quite place. “It is true. Things are getting worse again. I haven't seen it this bad since ...” Wayne sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. He didn't finish the sentence and Gordon didn't need him to. Since the Joker rampage. Wayne sighed. “With the Batman still running around, I'm sure it doesn't make it any better.”
Gordon shot Wayne a look, angry and regretful. Wayne wasn't looking at him though, he was peering down into his mug again, as if some sort of answer lay at the bottom of the cup. Gordon didn't dare say a word, his friendship with Batman was very secret, and just as Wayne said, what good were secrets and everyone knew? He merely shrugged, not giving an opinion on the situation.
Wayne downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on the table. “About that auction, Jim, would you be interested in...” he gestured at Gordon, nodding his head a little. Gordon scoffed at him, there was no chance in hell.
“No,” he said flatly. He then started to laugh at how just unbelievable the question even was. His wife wasn't even gone two months and people were trying to get him up on the bachelor block. Wayne smirked, and for a moment Gordon thought that he saw a flash of thankfulness in the billionaire's eyes.
“Sorry, we're just short a few. I didn't mean to upset you,” Wayne offered, and Gordon shook his head in dismissal.
“Don't. If it were a year from now, I might have said yes. But, it's.... it's just –” Gordon sighed and drank the last of the coffee in his cup, and set it down. “I haven't even thought about another woman, let alone casual dating or, hell, dating at all.”
“It's too soon,” Wayne said, completing what Gordon was going to originally say. “Understandable. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Thanks,” Gordon muttered. He wasn't sure how they got on this conversation, but talking about his wife felt weird, especially with Wayne. There was silence, a long stretch of it. Wayne looked into his mug, then his watch and then Gordon.
“I should probably go. Your kids need to get to bed for school in the morning.” Wayne pushed the chair away from the table and stood. Gordon stood as well, walking with Wayne towards the door. Wayne was suddenly favoring his left side again, much like he had been that morning.
“Bruce, are you okay?” Gordon finally asked. He thought they were on friendly enough terms now that he could at least ask, see if there was something he could do. Wayne turned around as he reached out for the door knob, forcing the grimace that was painfully etched into his face into a weak smile.
“Perfectly,” Wayne answered, opening the door and walking with more confidence, but not looking at Gordon. Gordon walked out with him, shutting the door behind him. Wayne was making his way down the steps, slowly at that, and Gordon took hold of his right arm.
“You sure?” he asked. Wayne still didn't turn to face him, but Gordon heard the slight groan in the man's voice as he answered.
“Yes.”
Gordon let go and stepped down off the porch next to Wayne, who had finally stopped, and turned to Gordon, his eyes showing a lot of curiosity, as if he had been keeping something to himself and wasn't sure if Gordon had caught on. Wayne forced a smile.
“You'd think golfing wasn't dangerous,” Wayne said, taking a deep breath. Gordon nodded, knowing that that, too, was a lie. Whatever Wayne was really getting into, maybe he didn't want to know. Not yet, anyway.
“I here it helps if you stretch first,” Gordon chimed in, looking down at his feet with slightly furrowed eyebrows. At some point, if their friendship were going to continue, he hoped that Wayne would trust him enough to tell him the truth and stop lying.
“Jim...” Wayne said softly. Gordon looked up, an awkward knot in his stomach as he caught Wayne's eyes, a swirl of browns, golds, and greens. Wayne opened his mouth to say something more, a confession perhaps from the guilty look on his face, but the words never made it past his lips and Gordon wasn't surprised. He took Wayne by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
“Look, son, if you need to talk about anything,. I'm here,” he said sternly, a mix between fatherly, friendly, and concerned. He let a grin slip to his lips. “God knows that I haven't anything else to do.”
Wayne's eyes searched his, but he didn't return the smile. He nodded. At that moment Gordon thought of the young boy from years ago, broken and torn just after his parents were murdered in front of him. He saw that boy in Wayne still, hiding in the shell of a grown man who sheltered his real self from the rest of the world, and Gordon felt he was seeing him for the first time. Everything he once believed about who Wayne had become shattered around him in that moment, and he felt a stronger bond pulling them together emotionally.
“I should go,” Wayne said, slipping away from Gordon's grip and walking to his car. Gordon watched him, confused as he was by the event that just took place, he couldn't help but think that this was all part of something bigger. Something... better.
----
By the time Bruce returned to the penthouse, the stitches in his left hip and right arm were killing him. He hobbled from the car garage to the elevator, punching in his code. When the doors open Alfred stood there, arms crossed, worriedly. Bruce sighed, walking out of the shaft and into the room, only giving Alfred a slight glance. Bruce removed his shirt as he entered the living room, tossing it over the side of the couch. He looked at the stitches Alfred had given him just last night, seeing they were still in tact, just in need of cleaning.
“You know, Master Wayne, a quick thirty second phone call to let me know you wouldn't be home the rest of the day would have been nice,” Alfred said as he picked up the shirt and threw it over his shoulder. He then tugged on Bruce's arm to examine the wound, sighing.
“Sorry, Alfred,” Bruce breathed as a pain shot through his arm; Alfred was not gentle. “I was invited to the Gordon's for dinner.”
“Ah, and how was Mister Gordon and his children?” Alfred asked, tugging Bruce towards the bathroom. Bruce allowed himself to be directed. Alfred sat Bruce down on the toilet seat, taking out a bottle of alcohol and a few swabs.
“Was his daughter's birthday. His son is doing better,” Bruce said, but he wasn't put a lot of emotion into his voice, he wasn't sure how to feel just yet after his last encounter with Gordon.
“Hm...” Was all the older gentlemen came back with as he swabbed around the stitched. He motioned at the stitched on his side. Bruce stood and unbutton his pants and lowered them enough for Alfred to see the stitches. He cleaned those as well.
“I think he knows. Or suspects, at least,” Bruce mumbled and Alfred looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Bruce sighed. “I could be wrong, but... if he doesn't know I'm sure he'll figure out soon.”
“Is that a problem, sir?” Alfred asked, putting away the alcohol and throwing out the swabs. He leaned his back against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. “What I mean is, does it matter if he does figure it out?”
Bruce chewed on the inside of his lip, he wasn't quite sure how he felt about Gordon finding out. On one hand, as Batman they were best friends, true partners no matter what. On the other hand, Bruce Wayne and Jim Gordon were more acquaintances becoming fast friends. Bruce would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was hoping for something more from either side of the spectrum. He also knew that if anything were to come of it, if he wanted to have everything Gordon had to offer at any point, the man would have to find out. Not only would Gordon want to know everything, being the cop he is, but Bruce wouldn't be able to live with himself living a lie with someone on such an intimate level.
“No,” Bruce admitted finally. “I'm just so afraid that he'll be very disappointed.”
Alfred scoffed at him, as if he couldn't see what the problem was. “And why is that, sir?”
“Look at me, Alfred,” Bruce said, opening his arms and gesturing at him. “I get into fights every night. There isn't an inch on my torso that hasn't been bruised or scarred. I use violence to get my point across. And that's just during the night. By day I'm a bubbling airhead who is constantly throwing parties and and trying to get into women's panties. I can't see a man like Jim Gordon going for the whole picture. Batman yes, but once he sees who he really is...” Bruce put his elbows on his knees and buried his face into his hands. God he felt so reckless. Gordon had surprised him today, he hadn't even expected the invite or to see him at that bakery. Bruce knew he should have been more prepared, shouldn't have put his guard down.
Bruce felt a firm hand on his shoulder. “I believe you are over thinking this,” came Alfred's self assured tone from beside Bruce. “He's dealt with both sides of you thus far, sir and he hasn't gone running the other direction, yet. And I'm sure he's smart enough to look past your playboy facade long enough to see that it's not really who you are.”
After a few minutes of silence, Bruce heard Alfred turn on his heels to leave. He lifted his head to look at the other man. “Should I tell him?”
Alfred twisted at the hip to look at him. “I think you should do whatever you feel is right. At some point, sir, you will need to tell him, but timing is key.” And the butler left.
Bruce stood, undoing the rest of his pants and kicking them off. He walked out of the bathroom and up stairs to his room. He looked at his dresser and saw the phone that was connected to the one he had Given Gordon was flashing, meaning he missed the call on it and it could only be one person, since he was the only one who had the phone. Bruce picked it up and flipped it open. He thought about calling it back, but he just wasn't in the mood tonight. He didn't need to go out on patrol and if he called Gordon back, he'd likely get roped into going over there and being confronted. He placed it back down on the dresser.
Bruce went towards the master bathroom to shower, but something made him turn back around and pick up the phone again. He hit the redial button. No answer. He tried again. This time someone picked up, but it was Gordon. A girl.
“Hello?” asked a frightened voice, shaking. It was Babs. Bruce's heart fell as the worst case scenario started to roll through his mind.
“Babs, where is your father?” Bruce asked in rasp, and the girl let out a cry of relief, as if she knew who it was and felt suddenly safer. Bruce was already making his way to the hide out, motioning to Alfred as he went to follow him.
“He's... he's being held captive in the other room,” she said quickly. “He handed me the phone and said to call you when we heard the glass shatter in the backyard.”
“And you're brother?”
“He's with me,” Babs responded again. “What do I do?”
“Just stay calm, don't make any noise. You're father knows what to do in these situations. I'll be right over.” Bruce said, closing the phone. Bruce knew he should have gone to MCU and told Atkins what he had found out last night, the trail that lead to an CS investigator in the Gordon's neighborhood. If anything happened to Jim Gordon again, Bruce would never forgive himself.
Wayne didn't say anything like that though, thankfully.
The cake was perfect and Babs loved it as well. It was strawberry shortcake, her favorite. Jimmy picked at his piece while the rest of them devoured it. Wayne was nicest enough to clean up the dishes, places them in sink and then start to wash them. He motioned for Gordon to sit back down, to have a moment with his daughter on her birthday. Gordon didn't complain, and the welcomed time was much appreciated. Jimmy stood and went to help Wayne and they talked quietly to themselves as Gordon watched the billionaire wash each dish and then hand it to Jimmy to dry.
It started to feel a little surreal, to see Bruce Wayne in his kitchen doing domestic duties, and yet it also felt... right. This was a side of Wayne no one got to see, likely not even his butler. Babs smiled at her Dad as she caught him watching the two in the kitchen cleaning.
“He's been really good for Jimmy,” Babs noted, patting her Dad's hand. Gordon nodded.
“He has. A bit unbelievable,” Gordon mumbled. He looked at his daughter sighed. “I know that having him here was probably not on your birthday schedule for family dinner. I'm really sorry, sweetie.”
Babs shook her head, a smile spreading on her face. “Don't be sorry. I don't mind, Dad.” She shrugged her shoulders and leaned in towards him coyly. “And its nice to see that you have a friend.”
Gordon raised an eyebrow at her questionably. “I think that's pushing it.”
“No, I don't think so. Sometimes good friends are unexpected, Dad. Just be happy you have one.” Babs said as she stood up from the table. She leaned over and kissed her head on the cheek. “I'm going to take a shower and get ready for bed.”
He nodded at her, focusing his attention back to the two in the kitchen, both were now drying dishes and putting them away. Wayne said something that Gordon couldn't hear and Jimmy laughed. Gordon stared in surprised; Jimmy hadn't laughed in nearly ten months. Gordon looked down at the coffee mug in his hand, smiling inwardly. Having Wayne around had its advantages. Jimmy liked him, looked up to him possibly and Gordon, well... he'd be the first to admit that he was wrong about Bruce Wayne. There was a spark about the billionaire, an air of mystery even. Secrets, Wayne had said, as if secrets were an every day thing – a part of who he was. Gordon would believe it, because he was starting to see through them.
The two finished and Jimmy headed down the hall to get ready for bed. Wayne took a clean mug from the counter top and poured himself a cup of coffee. He then added sugar and went to sit next to Gordon. Gordon watched him, noting the way he took his coffee. There shouldn't have been a significance to it, a lot of people preferred just sugar in their coffee.
Another little fact to file away for later.
“So, this auction of yours. When does that take place?” Gordon asked after a sip of his own coffee. Wayne looked down into his mug and then to Gordon.
“A couple weeks,” Wayne answered. Gordon wasn't sure why he asked, probably more morbid curiosity than anything else. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. After a few minutes Wayne spoke again; “So, how's retirement treating you?”
Gordon placed his mug down and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Do you really want to know?” Wayne shrugged, a small friendly smile on his face. “I'm bored to death. I think I'm more likely to have another heart attack out boredom than I was working behind a desk most of the time.”
Wayne snorted. “I'm sure they'd welcome you back with open arms.”
“Maybe,” Gordon said with a shrug. “Okay, yes. I haven't heard from Garcia, but everyone else tells me that things are getting worse...” He found himself trailing off as Wayne watched him closely, giving his full attention. Gordon shouldn't be talking to Wayne about these things, it wasn't his business. “It's not likely.”
Wayne nodded, and there was a sadness in his eyes that Gordon couldn't quite place. “It is true. Things are getting worse again. I haven't seen it this bad since ...” Wayne sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. He didn't finish the sentence and Gordon didn't need him to. Since the Joker rampage. Wayne sighed. “With the Batman still running around, I'm sure it doesn't make it any better.”
Gordon shot Wayne a look, angry and regretful. Wayne wasn't looking at him though, he was peering down into his mug again, as if some sort of answer lay at the bottom of the cup. Gordon didn't dare say a word, his friendship with Batman was very secret, and just as Wayne said, what good were secrets and everyone knew? He merely shrugged, not giving an opinion on the situation.
Wayne downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on the table. “About that auction, Jim, would you be interested in...” he gestured at Gordon, nodding his head a little. Gordon scoffed at him, there was no chance in hell.
“No,” he said flatly. He then started to laugh at how just unbelievable the question even was. His wife wasn't even gone two months and people were trying to get him up on the bachelor block. Wayne smirked, and for a moment Gordon thought that he saw a flash of thankfulness in the billionaire's eyes.
“Sorry, we're just short a few. I didn't mean to upset you,” Wayne offered, and Gordon shook his head in dismissal.
“Don't. If it were a year from now, I might have said yes. But, it's.... it's just –” Gordon sighed and drank the last of the coffee in his cup, and set it down. “I haven't even thought about another woman, let alone casual dating or, hell, dating at all.”
“It's too soon,” Wayne said, completing what Gordon was going to originally say. “Understandable. I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Thanks,” Gordon muttered. He wasn't sure how they got on this conversation, but talking about his wife felt weird, especially with Wayne. There was silence, a long stretch of it. Wayne looked into his mug, then his watch and then Gordon.
“I should probably go. Your kids need to get to bed for school in the morning.” Wayne pushed the chair away from the table and stood. Gordon stood as well, walking with Wayne towards the door. Wayne was suddenly favoring his left side again, much like he had been that morning.
“Bruce, are you okay?” Gordon finally asked. He thought they were on friendly enough terms now that he could at least ask, see if there was something he could do. Wayne turned around as he reached out for the door knob, forcing the grimace that was painfully etched into his face into a weak smile.
“Perfectly,” Wayne answered, opening the door and walking with more confidence, but not looking at Gordon. Gordon walked out with him, shutting the door behind him. Wayne was making his way down the steps, slowly at that, and Gordon took hold of his right arm.
“You sure?” he asked. Wayne still didn't turn to face him, but Gordon heard the slight groan in the man's voice as he answered.
“Yes.”
Gordon let go and stepped down off the porch next to Wayne, who had finally stopped, and turned to Gordon, his eyes showing a lot of curiosity, as if he had been keeping something to himself and wasn't sure if Gordon had caught on. Wayne forced a smile.
“You'd think golfing wasn't dangerous,” Wayne said, taking a deep breath. Gordon nodded, knowing that that, too, was a lie. Whatever Wayne was really getting into, maybe he didn't want to know. Not yet, anyway.
“I here it helps if you stretch first,” Gordon chimed in, looking down at his feet with slightly furrowed eyebrows. At some point, if their friendship were going to continue, he hoped that Wayne would trust him enough to tell him the truth and stop lying.
“Jim...” Wayne said softly. Gordon looked up, an awkward knot in his stomach as he caught Wayne's eyes, a swirl of browns, golds, and greens. Wayne opened his mouth to say something more, a confession perhaps from the guilty look on his face, but the words never made it past his lips and Gordon wasn't surprised. He took Wayne by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
“Look, son, if you need to talk about anything,. I'm here,” he said sternly, a mix between fatherly, friendly, and concerned. He let a grin slip to his lips. “God knows that I haven't anything else to do.”
Wayne's eyes searched his, but he didn't return the smile. He nodded. At that moment Gordon thought of the young boy from years ago, broken and torn just after his parents were murdered in front of him. He saw that boy in Wayne still, hiding in the shell of a grown man who sheltered his real self from the rest of the world, and Gordon felt he was seeing him for the first time. Everything he once believed about who Wayne had become shattered around him in that moment, and he felt a stronger bond pulling them together emotionally.
“I should go,” Wayne said, slipping away from Gordon's grip and walking to his car. Gordon watched him, confused as he was by the event that just took place, he couldn't help but think that this was all part of something bigger. Something... better.
----
By the time Bruce returned to the penthouse, the stitches in his left hip and right arm were killing him. He hobbled from the car garage to the elevator, punching in his code. When the doors open Alfred stood there, arms crossed, worriedly. Bruce sighed, walking out of the shaft and into the room, only giving Alfred a slight glance. Bruce removed his shirt as he entered the living room, tossing it over the side of the couch. He looked at the stitches Alfred had given him just last night, seeing they were still in tact, just in need of cleaning.
“You know, Master Wayne, a quick thirty second phone call to let me know you wouldn't be home the rest of the day would have been nice,” Alfred said as he picked up the shirt and threw it over his shoulder. He then tugged on Bruce's arm to examine the wound, sighing.
“Sorry, Alfred,” Bruce breathed as a pain shot through his arm; Alfred was not gentle. “I was invited to the Gordon's for dinner.”
“Ah, and how was Mister Gordon and his children?” Alfred asked, tugging Bruce towards the bathroom. Bruce allowed himself to be directed. Alfred sat Bruce down on the toilet seat, taking out a bottle of alcohol and a few swabs.
“Was his daughter's birthday. His son is doing better,” Bruce said, but he wasn't put a lot of emotion into his voice, he wasn't sure how to feel just yet after his last encounter with Gordon.
“Hm...” Was all the older gentlemen came back with as he swabbed around the stitched. He motioned at the stitched on his side. Bruce stood and unbutton his pants and lowered them enough for Alfred to see the stitches. He cleaned those as well.
“I think he knows. Or suspects, at least,” Bruce mumbled and Alfred looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Bruce sighed. “I could be wrong, but... if he doesn't know I'm sure he'll figure out soon.”
“Is that a problem, sir?” Alfred asked, putting away the alcohol and throwing out the swabs. He leaned his back against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. “What I mean is, does it matter if he does figure it out?”
Bruce chewed on the inside of his lip, he wasn't quite sure how he felt about Gordon finding out. On one hand, as Batman they were best friends, true partners no matter what. On the other hand, Bruce Wayne and Jim Gordon were more acquaintances becoming fast friends. Bruce would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was hoping for something more from either side of the spectrum. He also knew that if anything were to come of it, if he wanted to have everything Gordon had to offer at any point, the man would have to find out. Not only would Gordon want to know everything, being the cop he is, but Bruce wouldn't be able to live with himself living a lie with someone on such an intimate level.
“No,” Bruce admitted finally. “I'm just so afraid that he'll be very disappointed.”
Alfred scoffed at him, as if he couldn't see what the problem was. “And why is that, sir?”
“Look at me, Alfred,” Bruce said, opening his arms and gesturing at him. “I get into fights every night. There isn't an inch on my torso that hasn't been bruised or scarred. I use violence to get my point across. And that's just during the night. By day I'm a bubbling airhead who is constantly throwing parties and and trying to get into women's panties. I can't see a man like Jim Gordon going for the whole picture. Batman yes, but once he sees who he really is...” Bruce put his elbows on his knees and buried his face into his hands. God he felt so reckless. Gordon had surprised him today, he hadn't even expected the invite or to see him at that bakery. Bruce knew he should have been more prepared, shouldn't have put his guard down.
Bruce felt a firm hand on his shoulder. “I believe you are over thinking this,” came Alfred's self assured tone from beside Bruce. “He's dealt with both sides of you thus far, sir and he hasn't gone running the other direction, yet. And I'm sure he's smart enough to look past your playboy facade long enough to see that it's not really who you are.”
After a few minutes of silence, Bruce heard Alfred turn on his heels to leave. He lifted his head to look at the other man. “Should I tell him?”
Alfred twisted at the hip to look at him. “I think you should do whatever you feel is right. At some point, sir, you will need to tell him, but timing is key.” And the butler left.
Bruce stood, undoing the rest of his pants and kicking them off. He walked out of the bathroom and up stairs to his room. He looked at his dresser and saw the phone that was connected to the one he had Given Gordon was flashing, meaning he missed the call on it and it could only be one person, since he was the only one who had the phone. Bruce picked it up and flipped it open. He thought about calling it back, but he just wasn't in the mood tonight. He didn't need to go out on patrol and if he called Gordon back, he'd likely get roped into going over there and being confronted. He placed it back down on the dresser.
Bruce went towards the master bathroom to shower, but something made him turn back around and pick up the phone again. He hit the redial button. No answer. He tried again. This time someone picked up, but it was Gordon. A girl.
“Hello?” asked a frightened voice, shaking. It was Babs. Bruce's heart fell as the worst case scenario started to roll through his mind.
“Babs, where is your father?” Bruce asked in rasp, and the girl let out a cry of relief, as if she knew who it was and felt suddenly safer. Bruce was already making his way to the hide out, motioning to Alfred as he went to follow him.
“He's... he's being held captive in the other room,” she said quickly. “He handed me the phone and said to call you when we heard the glass shatter in the backyard.”
“And you're brother?”
“He's with me,” Babs responded again. “What do I do?”
“Just stay calm, don't make any noise. You're father knows what to do in these situations. I'll be right over.” Bruce said, closing the phone. Bruce knew he should have gone to MCU and told Atkins what he had found out last night, the trail that lead to an CS investigator in the Gordon's neighborhood. If anything happened to Jim Gordon again, Bruce would never forgive himself.