To Serve and Protect
Title: To Serve and Protect
Pairing: Batman/Gordon
Rating: (eventual) NC-17
Summary: The beginning of the partnership that would change the face of Gotham.
So, Gary Oldman completely revamped my idea of Jim Gordon and made the role sexier than it had any right to be. Add Batman into the mix and how could I pass that up? Completely un-beta'd, any mistakes are my fault, I'm posting this as I go and will probably re-write the entire thing when it's finished (assuming it gets finished) to polish it all up.
Title: To Serve and Protect
Chapter One
Pairing: Batman/Gordon
Rating: (eventual) NC-17
Summary: Gordon realizes that being commissioner isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately. Can’t imagine what I’d do with these two sexy men if they were left in my delicate care…
Chapter One
There were times, Gordon thought, when he almost would have preferred a demotion rather than promotion for his work on the Joker case. As a lieutenant, it had been easy for Gordon to be on the front lines; kicking in doors, threatening suspects, brandishing his gun in judicious amounts. As a Commissioner, however, he sometimes felt like a bug on display, pinned under the watchful eye of his whole department and all the politicians just itching for him to make a mistake.
It sometimes seemed that instead of fighting criminals and mob bosses, he’d been reduced to fighting mountains of paperwork instead. His right hand ached more from using his pen than using his gun.
He sighed wistfully at the thought of actually using that gun - to inspire fear in the hearts of the criminal underworld (ah, the good old days) - but at the moment the only thing to shoot at nearby was the pile of boxes he had yet to unload into his new office. Not that it wasn’t tempting.
“When you’re finished daydreaming Commissioner, there's this little-known thing called sleep, maybe you've heard of it?” Detective Sanchez sniped from across the room. She looked washed out and tired, but that was true of the entire graveyard shift, shuffling and yawning behind her. Gotham was never kind to it's protectors.
Gordon shook off his lingering misgivings and threw down his pen with a sigh, determined to avoid paperwork tomorrow even if he had to sneak out and assign parking tickets on the street. After putting away the Joker, a little less excitement was a great thing, but it had been two very long, very quiet, very irritating weeks. He might have enjoyed the peace a little more were it not for the public aspects of his job - when it came to politics Jim Gordon had two, if not three, left feet, and he'd gladly take a crime scene over a council meeting any day.
“The way things are going I’ll get two feet from home and be radio’d back anyway,” he muttered, but pulled his coat off the rack and slid it on, settling the familiar old weight around his shoulders.
Two of the on-duty cops grinned at him, but most looked away. The rumor-mill at the GPD was almost as bad as the gossip column of the local tabloids, and being a police station he doubted anyone had failed to notice his tendency to answer even the most unimportant of calls rather than head home for a night of sleep. For the last week he’d usually ended up napping on his office couch and sending out for a change of clothes in the morning. He went home to hug his children and to kiss his wife on the cheek, but he found he couldn’t looked her in the eyes and she in turn never touched him except to hug him hard - each one like a last goodbye - every time he left. As to his son and daughter, he could barely make himself let them go, and even though he knew himself for a coward, sometimes it was just too hard to look at them and know what he’d almost lost.
They’d work it out. They'd have to or he’d lose them anyway, but he needed time, and so did they. Maybe tonight was the night to start working on it.
He left the station without a backward glance.
As he drove, dawn hovered on the edge of the horizon, like gray mist crawling over the landscape. The night still clung to alleyways and rooftops and Gordon fancied that as he idled at red lights he could see a dark figure darting from shadow to shadow, watching over Gotham even as it rallied for his blood. Gordon sighed. Every day he regretted his decision to be part of the lie that had become Batman. His conscience ate at him and he had to force himself to read the news articles and watch the broadcasts breaking down the dark knight like trash, all his good deeds forgotten in the wake of his supposed fall from grace. Never had he come so close to losing faith in his beloved city as he had in the last two weeks, watching it savage a man that was saving them, even now.
So it was with a bizarre feeling of fate that Gordon heard his radio blip to life and spit out in a burst of static, “all units in nearby vicinity, suspected Batman sighting at corner of Bend and Central, suspect seen entering adjacent warehouse through third story window; respond as able.”
A sharp, darting pain forced him to gasp in a breath. Up until now Batman had made himself scarce - Gordon had yet to actually see the man in the two weeks since the Joker’s capture - and he’d been doing his absolute best not to think about what would happen should the GPD ever actually catch the masked vigilante. Gordon knew, as surely as he'd risked association with the man before, that if it was in his power to prevent it, he’d make sure that never, ever happened. But if someone else happened across the Batman, or several someone’s, and he wasn’t able to free himself..
Gordon tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous. The Batman was capable of taking care of himself - the incident with the Joker notwithstanding - and, Gordon thought wryly, he wouldn’t hesitate to use force to do so. He wouldn’t thank Gordon for taking time out of his day to chase ridiculous rumors of his presence, rumors that were more than likely false.
Still, as Gordon heard two other officers in the area confirm their identification and location, he felt himself reach for his own radio and resigned himself to one more sleepless night.
Although, as he called it in, he rather thought his previous complaints about a lack of action were coming back to bite him in the ass.
***
He met up with a rookie - whose name eluded him - and Ramirez on Central and they fell into a standard pattern behind him. All three had their service weapons out but even so Gordon could only devote half of his attention to actually casing the place as the other half of his brain was busily working up scenarios to cover for the Bat should he actually find him. Things like tripping down the stairs, accidentally shutting a door in the rookie’s face, or possibly shooting one of them in the foot rapidly crossed Gordon’s mind.
An inexplicable feeling of dread flitted through his thoughts as they reached the top of the third floor stairs, and he took a deep breath to shake it off as he balanced his revolver against his shoulder. With a nod at Ramirez he opened the access door and darted into the room, gun extended first.
He needn’t have bothered though, as the warehouse was quite empty. He checked a little further, but there was really nothing to look at - it was a wide open, empty space, no boxes, shadows, or even scaffolding to hide behind. There was no way anyone had snuck in here, or if they had they were long gone.
Gordon moved in a little further, something dinging in the back of his mind but it wasn’t until he was nearly at the center of the room that he realized there were no windows on this level. He looked about him, puzzled, but no, this level was all concrete, maybe intended as a parking garage, and completely without access aside from the one door. The only way someone could have stolen onto this level was by getting in on another one first.
But dispatch…
There was a moment when everything seemed to move slower than it had seconds before. He looked up, his mind still full of questions like what, and who, and where. He had an instant to turn full circle, his assessing glance taking in Ramirez with her gun lowered, eyes following him intently, almost sadly-
The rookie - what was his name? - right behind her, gun not lowered at all, rather held aloft in a very familiar position, and attached to the barrel, a very professional, very efficient looking silencer-
And behind them both, a shadow moving within a shadow on the stairwell-
There was a moment of a confusion, then comprehension, then noise.
Then pain.
Then nothing.
Pairing: Batman/Gordon
Rating: (eventual) NC-17
Summary: The beginning of the partnership that would change the face of Gotham.
So, Gary Oldman completely revamped my idea of Jim Gordon and made the role sexier than it had any right to be. Add Batman into the mix and how could I pass that up? Completely un-beta'd, any mistakes are my fault, I'm posting this as I go and will probably re-write the entire thing when it's finished (assuming it gets finished) to polish it all up.
Title: To Serve and Protect
Chapter One
Pairing: Batman/Gordon
Rating: (eventual) NC-17
Summary: Gordon realizes that being commissioner isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately. Can’t imagine what I’d do with these two sexy men if they were left in my delicate care…
Chapter One
There were times, Gordon thought, when he almost would have preferred a demotion rather than promotion for his work on the Joker case. As a lieutenant, it had been easy for Gordon to be on the front lines; kicking in doors, threatening suspects, brandishing his gun in judicious amounts. As a Commissioner, however, he sometimes felt like a bug on display, pinned under the watchful eye of his whole department and all the politicians just itching for him to make a mistake.
It sometimes seemed that instead of fighting criminals and mob bosses, he’d been reduced to fighting mountains of paperwork instead. His right hand ached more from using his pen than using his gun.
He sighed wistfully at the thought of actually using that gun - to inspire fear in the hearts of the criminal underworld (ah, the good old days) - but at the moment the only thing to shoot at nearby was the pile of boxes he had yet to unload into his new office. Not that it wasn’t tempting.
“When you’re finished daydreaming Commissioner, there's this little-known thing called sleep, maybe you've heard of it?” Detective Sanchez sniped from across the room. She looked washed out and tired, but that was true of the entire graveyard shift, shuffling and yawning behind her. Gotham was never kind to it's protectors.
Gordon shook off his lingering misgivings and threw down his pen with a sigh, determined to avoid paperwork tomorrow even if he had to sneak out and assign parking tickets on the street. After putting away the Joker, a little less excitement was a great thing, but it had been two very long, very quiet, very irritating weeks. He might have enjoyed the peace a little more were it not for the public aspects of his job - when it came to politics Jim Gordon had two, if not three, left feet, and he'd gladly take a crime scene over a council meeting any day.
“The way things are going I’ll get two feet from home and be radio’d back anyway,” he muttered, but pulled his coat off the rack and slid it on, settling the familiar old weight around his shoulders.
Two of the on-duty cops grinned at him, but most looked away. The rumor-mill at the GPD was almost as bad as the gossip column of the local tabloids, and being a police station he doubted anyone had failed to notice his tendency to answer even the most unimportant of calls rather than head home for a night of sleep. For the last week he’d usually ended up napping on his office couch and sending out for a change of clothes in the morning. He went home to hug his children and to kiss his wife on the cheek, but he found he couldn’t looked her in the eyes and she in turn never touched him except to hug him hard - each one like a last goodbye - every time he left. As to his son and daughter, he could barely make himself let them go, and even though he knew himself for a coward, sometimes it was just too hard to look at them and know what he’d almost lost.
They’d work it out. They'd have to or he’d lose them anyway, but he needed time, and so did they. Maybe tonight was the night to start working on it.
He left the station without a backward glance.
As he drove, dawn hovered on the edge of the horizon, like gray mist crawling over the landscape. The night still clung to alleyways and rooftops and Gordon fancied that as he idled at red lights he could see a dark figure darting from shadow to shadow, watching over Gotham even as it rallied for his blood. Gordon sighed. Every day he regretted his decision to be part of the lie that had become Batman. His conscience ate at him and he had to force himself to read the news articles and watch the broadcasts breaking down the dark knight like trash, all his good deeds forgotten in the wake of his supposed fall from grace. Never had he come so close to losing faith in his beloved city as he had in the last two weeks, watching it savage a man that was saving them, even now.
So it was with a bizarre feeling of fate that Gordon heard his radio blip to life and spit out in a burst of static, “all units in nearby vicinity, suspected Batman sighting at corner of Bend and Central, suspect seen entering adjacent warehouse through third story window; respond as able.”
A sharp, darting pain forced him to gasp in a breath. Up until now Batman had made himself scarce - Gordon had yet to actually see the man in the two weeks since the Joker’s capture - and he’d been doing his absolute best not to think about what would happen should the GPD ever actually catch the masked vigilante. Gordon knew, as surely as he'd risked association with the man before, that if it was in his power to prevent it, he’d make sure that never, ever happened. But if someone else happened across the Batman, or several someone’s, and he wasn’t able to free himself..
Gordon tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous. The Batman was capable of taking care of himself - the incident with the Joker notwithstanding - and, Gordon thought wryly, he wouldn’t hesitate to use force to do so. He wouldn’t thank Gordon for taking time out of his day to chase ridiculous rumors of his presence, rumors that were more than likely false.
Still, as Gordon heard two other officers in the area confirm their identification and location, he felt himself reach for his own radio and resigned himself to one more sleepless night.
Although, as he called it in, he rather thought his previous complaints about a lack of action were coming back to bite him in the ass.
***
He met up with a rookie - whose name eluded him - and Ramirez on Central and they fell into a standard pattern behind him. All three had their service weapons out but even so Gordon could only devote half of his attention to actually casing the place as the other half of his brain was busily working up scenarios to cover for the Bat should he actually find him. Things like tripping down the stairs, accidentally shutting a door in the rookie’s face, or possibly shooting one of them in the foot rapidly crossed Gordon’s mind.
An inexplicable feeling of dread flitted through his thoughts as they reached the top of the third floor stairs, and he took a deep breath to shake it off as he balanced his revolver against his shoulder. With a nod at Ramirez he opened the access door and darted into the room, gun extended first.
He needn’t have bothered though, as the warehouse was quite empty. He checked a little further, but there was really nothing to look at - it was a wide open, empty space, no boxes, shadows, or even scaffolding to hide behind. There was no way anyone had snuck in here, or if they had they were long gone.
Gordon moved in a little further, something dinging in the back of his mind but it wasn’t until he was nearly at the center of the room that he realized there were no windows on this level. He looked about him, puzzled, but no, this level was all concrete, maybe intended as a parking garage, and completely without access aside from the one door. The only way someone could have stolen onto this level was by getting in on another one first.
But dispatch…
There was a moment when everything seemed to move slower than it had seconds before. He looked up, his mind still full of questions like what, and who, and where. He had an instant to turn full circle, his assessing glance taking in Ramirez with her gun lowered, eyes following him intently, almost sadly-
The rookie - what was his name? - right behind her, gun not lowered at all, rather held aloft in a very familiar position, and attached to the barrel, a very professional, very efficient looking silencer-
And behind them both, a shadow moving within a shadow on the stairwell-
There was a moment of a confusion, then comprehension, then noise.
Then pain.
Then nothing.