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Reconciled Moments
Chapter Two
written by destinyawakened
Gordon didn't get much sleep that night. He slept in Bruce's room; Alfred had pretty much demanded it. And even though he closed his eyes, he couldn't seem to settle deeply enough into the sheets to be comfortable. His mind was reeling over everything and when the sun rose he rose with it; there was no point in avoiding the day, especially when sleep wasn't going to happen. He thought he'd at least put himself together enough to look semi-decent for Bruce's return to Gotham. Gordon had promised to meet him, since his niece's flight was just a half hour or so behind his.
He sighed as he waited by one of the gift shops for Bruce to come through the private entrance, where he would hopefully draw less publicity (as if it ever really worked well). Gordon leaned up against a wall, one hand in his pocket, fingering the package of cigarettes. He really wanted to smoke right now, to inhale and feel that everything was at ease for those few seconds. He already felt numb; the emotions he should be feeling about the death of his brother had yet to truly sink in, and he knew this was because he had to be strong for Babs – she shouldn't see him break when he needed to be the firm shoulder for her to cry on.
A small jet touched down on the runway, one that had a big Wayne Enterprises painted on it. That would be Bruce. There were a few reporters out there, catching Bruce as he walked off the plane. He had been out of the spotlight for quite some time, hiding from society until he could gather himself into a presentable mood. Gordon thought he had done well, considering the severity of his condition after the medications. He was hardly the same man since then though, and Gordon had begun to wonder if he ever would be again. Bruce still put up the facade for the public, but when alone he was definitely a lot darker, more serious minded than he had been. Gordon didn't mind much, sometimes there was only room for so much sarcasm between them.
After about ten minutes of indulging the press Bruce finally managed to talk his way out of any more questions, probably making some sorry excuse about being too tired, and made his way to the private entrance. Gordon pushed away from the wall with his elbows and opened the door to the private hallway. He closed the door behind him seeing Bruce come up the walkway – charcoal gray suit, shiny black tie, brown hair combed neatly back and a smile that suggested he was more than happy to see the commissioner. Gordon stopped just a few feet from the billionaire and Bruce took the last remaining steps between them, dropping his briefcase to the floor.
Bruce circled his arms around Gordon tightly, embracing him as if for the first time in months (it had in fact only been two days). Gordon felt the younger man's lips against his, tongue coaxing his lips open. He obliged in a sweet surrender, tasting the pungent mint of the obvious Tic-Tac Bruce had been sucking on just before. The younger man pushed Gordon up against the wall, running a hand through his hair, tugging on it gently. Gordon had to bring his hands up to Bruce's chest and push him away before someone caught them.
“Down boy,” Gordon said breathlessly. “There's bound to be someone else coming up here any minute.”
“You know, Jim. I don't really care who finds out anymore.” Bruce smiled wearily and smoothed down the lapels on his suit. He reached down to pick up his briefcase.
“People would expect it of you. I don't think my reputation could handle the gossip.” Gordon retorted. He started for the door, Bruce not far behind. He glanced at his watch as he opened the door, allowing Bruce to walk out before him.
Bruce made a grunting noise, as if he didn't quite agree with the commissioner, but he didn't argue the point either. “When does your niece's flight get in.”
“In about thirty minutes,” Gordon replied as he let the door slide shut behind them. “Just enough time for me to ask you for a favor.”
Bruce stopped, turning around to meet the older man's gaze. “Why Commissioner Gordon, in the airport of all places?” He looked as if he was considering something, squinting at Gordon accusingly. “I suppose the bathroom would be the safest place not to be seen.”
“Bruce...” Gordon sighed. “That's not what I meant. Can you get your mind out of the gutter for two seconds and be serious?” Bruce was staring at him in mild astonishment, but he let it fade into a firm stare.
“What happened?” As if he had known already and Gordon didn't need to say much else.
“Roger and Thelma were killed yesterday. Car accident.” It felt strange to say it; it felt... good. Gordon didn't want to admit to the later, because it just seemed wrong.
He looked at Bruce who was fidgeting, trying to figure out how Gordon felt so he could respond accordingly. Gordon sighed and took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was all so sudden and so quick that his head was still reeling.
“Jim? Are you okay?” Bruce voice seemed distant and yet when Gordon looked up he was just a few inches away.
“I'm fine.” Gordon let out a heavy breath, placing his hands on his hips. “I talked to Alfred last night. Got a good perspective from him on a few things.”
“Then what is this favor you need of me?” Gordon could tell Bruce was feeling a little lost, maybe not sure where he could fit into this situation, especially if Gordon had already gone to Alfred for advice.
“If by some chance she doesn't take the news well and becomes overly hysterical, I could really use your expertise on the matter. Maybe even for you to talk to her if it comes to that.” Gordon smiled at Bruce, a little more sincerely than he felt, but he needed Bruce to know that he needed him during this time, both for him and for Babs.
Bruce reached out and squeezed Gordon's hand. “Consider it done.”
Gordon's thoughts went directly back to how to tell Babs. He kept telling himself not to think about it, that the time would present itself and it would come naturally, just like everything else with his job. Bruce seemed to notice his worry.
“Jim,” Bruce started, placing a hand at the small of his back and inching a little closer to him. Usually Gordon would have told him to back off in public, but right now he didn't care. He let Bruce trace his fingers up and down the small of his back, a soothing sensation that helped calm his nerves a little. “You can do it.” The gleam in Bruce's eyes reminded Gordon briefly of the nine-year-boy sitting in the police station, trembling. He closed his eyes, fists tightly balled up at his sides, taking a deep breath to still his emotions. This was not the time for reminiscing.
Bruce grasped Gordon's hand tightly in his own and pulled him close. Gordon was grateful that the terminal was pretty empty, and the people who passed didn't pay them any more attention than they would anyone else; or if they did, Bruce didn't seem to notice and Gordon had at that moment stopped caring what everyone else thought. He needed this brief moment to be surrounded by the one thing that made sense in his life before complicating the rest of it for him and his niece.
“I can't let her go to a foster home, Bruce. I'm the only family she has.” He opened his eyes and looked at Bruce, who now had a small smile on his face, one that showed caring and understanding – everything Jim Gordon needed right then.
“If I know Commissioner James Gordon well enough, he'll do what he knows is best,” Bruce said simply and squeezed the older man's fingers a little tighter to reassure him that the billionaire had all the faith in the world that Gordon would do what had to be done – what needed to be done.
He wanted to respond, but his attention went to the tarmac where the plane from Chicago had touched down and was pulling up to the gate and to let the passengers off. Bruce brought Gordon's hand to his lips and kissed his fingers before letting go of his hand completely, keeping a relatively safe distance. Gordon rubbed his hand with his fingers where Bruce's lips had touched it and wished that he didn't have to be here doing this, but was instead at the Manor with Bruce, rolling around his bed and enjoying life. He would have killed for that moment; it had been months since they did anything, having mutually agreed to take things a little slower and allow Bruce more time to find himself again.
But Gordon still wanted it.
He had to shake his head to bring his attention back to the task at hand, watching the flow of people from the plane. Many passengers gawked at Bruce as they passed and one, a young girl stopped just short of Gordon and Bruce. She was tall for her age, long in the torso, with an athletic build but slim through the waist, and her hair was a golden brown with tints of red, a reminder of her Irish heritage. She took a few stepped forward, adjusting her glasses on her nose, and smiled brightly at Gordon, her light blue eyes sparkling in her obviously good mood.
“Uncle Jim!” Babs exclaimed as she threw her arms around him tightly. They were rather close; she visited more often than her parents had and used to stay with him, Barbara and the kids for the summer. He'd consider her one of his own in a heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up off the ground in a big hug.
“You've gotten so big,” he said quietly, his voice barely making it past his lips. He pushed her away to arm's length to get a better look at her, shaking his head in disbelief at how much she had grown up in the few years he hadn't seen her. “You definitely have the Gordon blood.”
Babs rolled her eyes. “I'm not sure that's such a good thing,” she teased with a grin, and her eyes shifted to Bruce who was in a state of awe, staring at the two of them with gentle eyes. He moved forward with his hand out and she took it.
“Bruce Wayne,” he said in a tone that mimicked the softness that had been in Gordon's voice. “You're uncle has told me so much about you.”
Gordon started to walk towards the baggage claim, guiding Babs with one hand on her shoulder as she glared at Bruce in a bit of disbelief. “He's a colleague,” Gordon explained, and he watched as Bruce gave him a look; they had agreed that with family they would be open and honest about their relationship, as part of the trust pact they had conjured up. Gordon shrugged and gave him a look of “I'll explain it to her later” to the younger man. Bruce just rolled his eyes.
“Oh,” Babs said as they reached the claim area. She looked around a bit as they waited and then glanced at Gordon with confusion on her face. “Are Mom and Dad waiting for us somewhere else?”
There was a brief moment of silence and Gordon looked to Bruce who gave him that stern, grim unemotional face and then looked away. “I'm going to go and get the car,” he said and stole the keys from Gordon's fingers before the older man even had a chance to protest.
Babs was staring at him now her eyes pleading as if she already knew what might be coming. Gordon sighed and glanced around for a spot that was a little out of the way, a little more private. He lead her to a bench away from the baggage area and sat her down. He got down on his knees in front of her, a little more personal this way. She swallowed visibly; her hands started to shake, and Gordon covered them with his own to steady her.
“Babs, sweetheart, they aren't coming,” Gordon said and he tried to remember what Alfred had told him about treating her like an adult, that she would be grateful later that he hadn't buttered it up for her.
Babs was shaking her head, the glint of tears showing in her eyes. She didn't seem to comprehend at first, maybe her uncle wasn't being truthful with her, maybe it was all a joke. “I don't understand.”
He moved up to sit next to her on the bench, her gaze on him the whole time. He looked her in the eye sternly, making sure he had her complete attention. “They're were killed yesterday in a car accident on the way to Gotham.”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head, denying it. Gordon knew this was a normal part of the process; its what everyone did when first told. It had to sink it, it had to become reality before anything else could slip past her lips.
Gordon wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close to him, pulling her head to his chest and resting his chin gently on the top of her head. She was crying now, pulling her glasses away from her eyes and rubbing at the tears that had started to swell up. He smoothed her hair down with his free hand and she continued to sob. At that moment Gordon felt so helpless. This was nothing like the night he had sat in front of a young Bruce Wayne and tried to console him. Bruce had gotten through the shock by then and was at the numb stage, barely feeling and holding back the tears that threatened because it was what he was supposed to do. Maybe that was just because Bruce had watched his parents die. Babs didn't have that, didn't have the moment to tell them one last time she loved them or would miss them.
Gordon held her tightly to him and she clung to his shoulders letting out an agonizing moan. Her reality was about to change and Gordon knew she was finally coming to grips with the facts. “Shhh,” he whispered to her and closed his eyes, praying to God that it would pass quickly, that she would be stronger because of this. That she would let herself be at peace with her parents passing.
And then Gordon felt more numb about his brother's death than before. He didn't cry, he didn't feel it. He'd built himself up for Babs and by God he was going to stay that way.
-------
“I don't ever want to do that again.” Gordon said. He had his hands in his pockets, and was looking out towards the setting sun on the back porch of Wayne Manor. Babs had fallen asleep in the guest room after insisting she be left alone for a bit. Gordon had come outside with Bruce to get some air before Alfred served dinner.
“She'll be alright,” Bruce replied. He had changed from his business suit to blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and was going barefoot. June nights in Gotham were extremely warm and Gordon couldn't say he minded seeing Bruce dressed so casually.
“I don't know what to do. Their will is coming in from Chicago tomorrow with their lawyer. This will ultimately tell us where Babs will be going.” Not that he didn't know already; he was her only family and if he didn't want to keep her around she'd be moved to a foster home. Gordon couldn't do that to his only niece. “I wish I didn't have to deal with this. I've got too much on my plate.”
Bruce moved behind the older man and began to rub his shoulders with his long fingers. He leaned in towards Gordon's ear, running a hand over the side of his neck softly. “Sounds like you need a vacation,” Bruce whispered sensually.
Gordon groaned and leaned back into Bruce's touch, and in turn Bruce wrapped his arms around the commissioner's shoulders and placed a small kiss on the side of his neck. “You know I can't do that. Not right now.”
“Then, at least let me give you a mini-vacation tonight?” Bruce mumbled as he continued to plant small kisses up Gordon's neck and along his jaw line. Gordon closed his eyes and found himself bending his neck to the side to allow Bruce better access. He pressed himself back against the younger man, reaching behind him, grabbing Bruce's outer thighs with his hands and pulling him closer. It amazed Gordon just how distracting Bruce could be in any given situation. He should have been inside consoling his niece or gathering more information on his brother's case, but instead he was finding himself mesmerized by Bruce's scent, his casual, yet sensual, touch and the way he knew just where to glide his fingers to send Gordon over the edge. It was wrong, but so right.
“I thought we agreed to wait a while –” Gordon started, his voice hitching in his throat when Bruce began to grind his hips against him, hands wandering down Gordon's chest slowly in feather light touches that sent goosebumps over the older man's skin and a twitch to his groin.
“I'm tired of waiting. Every time I see you I feel so damned tempted to just take you aside and have my way with you, Jim. Every inch of me wants to be close to you, to touch you. I'm afraid if I don't get that soon I'm going to do something I might regret.” Bruce's voiced rasped a little, breaking a bit as he groaned his wants. Gordon felt himself being turned around, and then he was looking into Bruce's hazel eyes, returning the playboy's gaze of desire. Bruce bent and kissed him, one hand at the small of his back and the other grasping at Gordon's hair.
“Bruce...” Gordon mumbled beneath the lips that were parting against his, searching for the place that would end this night in a desperate, passionate entanglement. Gordon wanted to tell him no, that it really was for their own good – the good of their relationship. But Bruce's tongue was exploring his mouth, and Gordon found his words were swallowed by the billionaire, and his sense of what was right was thrown out of his mind.
Bruce snaked a hand down the front of Gordon's pants, rubbing his erection through the silky cloth of the suit fabric. “Don't deny me, Jim.” He sounded desperate, panting into Gordon's mouth as he spoke. His fingers fumbled with the zipper on the older man's pants and Gordon attempted to adjust himself to give Bruce more access without moving too far away from him.
“I wasn't... going to.” Gordon could barely finish the phrase. He let out a groan as Bruce's palm wrapped tightly around the shaft of his penis and began to stroke diligently, while placing softer kisses at the nape of his neck. Gordon reached behind him and took hold of the porch railing to steady himself, his free hand weaving into Bruce's thick mane of soft, dark brown locks.
Bruce had started to unbutton Gordon's pants the rest of the way when an “ahem” came from the back door of the Manor. Gordon looked up as Bruce moved in front of Gordon as a shield. Alfred stood at the door, his head turned away, but Gordon could still tell he was rolling his eyes at their rather public display of affection – if it could even be called that.
“I've come to inform the masters that their dinner is served and that I will be going to fetch Miss Gordon,” he said, rather accusingly. Gordon had already tucked himself back in and was standing, straightening himself out. Alfred looked in their direction when he thought it was safe. Bruce walked past Alfred and into the kitchen and Gordon followed behind, Alfred reached out for a moment to stop him, a hand on his shoulder. “I think it's an improvement.”
Gordon gave the butler a wispy smile, almost shy about it, but nodded just the same. “I'll go get Babs, Alfred.” And the older gentleman nodded and went off to Bruce's side, probably to lecture him about his behavior.
Gordon walked up the stairs to the guest room and knocked on the door. He heard footsteps and then the door opened and Babs peeked her head out to blink at him groggily. Her eyes were puffy and red and Gordon knew she had still been crying, but at least she wasn't at the moment. She smiled weakly at him, straightening her hair as she stepped out of the room and shut the door. After their talk in the airport she had kept to herself and seemed more sullen. He couldn't blame her. If her mood didn't improve in a few days he'd throw Bruce at her for a good heart-to-heart “my parents died too” conversation. Gordon found he sort of hoped it didn't come to that, he'd hate for Bruce to give Babs the wrong impression about how to deal with her anger and frustration. Gordon really didn't need her getting the idea that dressing as a bat was a good way to alleviate emotional pain.
“Dinner?” she asked as they headed down the stairs together.
“Yes. I think Alfred made lasagna.” Gordon said. Babs reached the bottom of the stairs first and smiled at him a little more genuinely this time. He returned her smile as if to say “Yes, I told him it was your favorite.”
------
“Hi, Barbara.” Gordon said into his cell phone. His ex-wife had called just as Gordon was about to head upstairs to Bruce's bedroom.
“I got your message last night. How is Babs?” she asked; she seemed very concerned. She and Babs had always gotten along very well in past visits.
“Oh, she's doing better than I thought she would be. Barb, you know it might make her feel a lot better to have more family around her – ” Gordon started to say but Barbara cut him off.
“I'm not taking her in, Jim. These two are hard enough these days.”
Gordon let out an exasperated sigh. “I wasn't going to suggest that. I was merely going to ask that if she ends up staying here with me could Jimmy and Susan come down for a few weeks and spend some time with her. I really think she'd enjoy that.”
Barbara was silent and then her voice was softer, as if she felt terrible for having accused him. “Oh, Jim. That's a wonderful idea. The kids have been asking to come and see you and Bruce for a while now. They get out of school on Wednesday. Can I call you then and schedule something?”
“That'd be fine.” Gordon was relieved. If things went as he foresaw them, he'd be Babs' parental guardian indefinitely, and having some family around her would make the transition a little easier. “Thanks, Barb.”
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