Title: Your Past Is a Blueprint for Your Future
Author: gaudy night
Rating: PG
Summary: An unexpected visitor brings some clarity to the situation. Follows You Can't Get There from Here. Took some liberties here and there with timelines, locations, and such. Fluff with angst. Flangst?
A/N: Cliché #4 in my NaNoWriMo series, Jim Gordon’s Life As a Series of Clichés. Serious sounding title; not so serious stories.
Word Count: 4,075

Commissioner James Gordon walked hurriedly into the GCPD precinct with a cup of coffee in one hand, a stack of manila folders in the other, and a prominent frown on his face. Normally, nonproductive meetings with various local officials and the stifling air of bureaucracy at City Hall wouldn’t have put him in such a black mood, but the ignoramuses he’d had to patronize this morning combined with his personal issues did nothing for his current disposition.

It had been three whole days since he’d heard anything from Bruce. No phone calls, no text messages, nothing. The morning after he’d sat down with Alfred, Gordon had received a brief text message: “Sorry. Need to cancel today. We’ll talk later.”

Later still hadn’t come.

Gordon trusted Alfred implicitly not to tell Bruce what they had talked about that night. The older man would never violate anyone’s confidence in that way. Gordon gave a mental shrug. Besides, Bruce would have figured it out anyway. Gordon had purposefully avoided him for that one day, so was the billionaire giving him a taste of his own medicine? Bruce wasn’t like that, but the rules of the game seemed to be changing week-by-week, day-by-day, so who knew? Gordon wanted to stamp his feet, throw everything to the ground, and scream in frustration.

He paused for a moment in midstride to place the cup of coffee into his other hand, reached into his pocket for the phone with his free hand, and dialed a familiar number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried not to sound pathetic, “Bruce, it’s Gordon. Jim. I was wondering if you had any plans for lunch. Or dinner. Or whenever. Give me a call.” He snapped the cell phone shut and put it away. He walked passed the desk sergeant, giving a nod in greeting. He began to trudge up the stairs toward his office.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Gordon turned. “Yes, sergeant?”

“You have a visitor waiting for you upstairs—”

Damn, I forgot. Gordon was supposed to meet with the city manager regarding departmental budget cuts for the next fiscal year. He looked at his watch. He thought he had a few more minutes to spare in his schedule, but he didn’t put it past himself to mess that up as well. “Thank you, sergeant.” He rushed up the staircase and through the bullpen, nodding to his officers in greeting.

He dropped off the files on his secretary’s desk and saw the outline of someone standing in his office. Gordon straightened his tie. Let’s get this over with. He reached for the doorknob and walked in. “Sorry to keep you waiting…”

“Hello, Jim.” A beautiful redhead turned around to greet him.

Gordon nearly dropped his coffee. “Sarah?”

From her desk, Renee Montoya looked on with great curiosity. Bullock walked by, and she grabbed his arm. “Harvey, look over there.”

Bullock followed her gaze to Gordon and his female visitor, a dark expression covering his features. He muttered, “An old friend from Chicago. Fill you in later.”

Montoya looked back at Gordon’s office and didn’t like the look that friend was giving her boss. She studied Gordon’s body language. He stood rigid, tense, and uncomfortable. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Montoya shot an intimidating glare in the woman’s direction. “Spill, Harvey.”

Bullock shook his head. “Not here. Get your coat.” Montoya grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and put it on.

Stephens called out from across the room, “Where are you two going?”

Montoya and Bullock turned to him in unison and mouthed, “Shh! Be quiet!”

Stephens held up his hands as if to say Okay, okay! He mouthed back, “What?” Bullock pointed over to Gordon’s office. Stephens’ mouth dropped, “Holy Sh…”

Bullock mouthed to him, “Upstairs.” Then he and Montoya left. Stephens counted to thirty and followed them out discreetly.

The detectives stood on the rooftop of the GCPD building, bundled together against the chill winter air. Montoya rubbed her hands together for warmth, while Bullock breathed into his. The door opened and Stephens joined them. He turned up the collar on his jacket and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He exclaimed, “Man, it’s freezing out here!”

Montoya ignored him and folded her arms. She repeated, “Spill, Harvey. Who is she?”

Bullock exchanged glances with Stephens. “Gerry, why don’t you tell her?” Stephens hesitated.

Montoya seethed, “I swear, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll…”

Bullock winced, “Okay, but Gerry should tell you. He’s known the Commish longer.”

“Thanks a lot, Harvey,” Stephens said in mild annoyance.

“Well, you do,” Bullock insisted.

“I don’t see what that has to do with telling her about…”

“Stephens!” Montoya was quickly losing her temper.

“Fine! Sit down, both of you.” He saw Montoya’s skeptical look. “Just do it. Please.” The three sat in a corner on a low parapet. “Montoya, Harvey already knows the story, but I’m telling you this because I know we all care about Jim. You’re protective about him—we all are. He’s a good man—”

Montoya replied, “Goes without saying.”

Stephens nodded. “—a good man, but he’s not perfect. We’ve all made mistakes. So I’m telling you—” he corrected himself “asking you to respect his privacy. Not because he’s Commissioner Gordon, but because he loves his kids and would never want to hurt them or their mother in anyway if he could help it.”

“I get it. What do you want, pinkies swear?”

Stephens and Bullock looked at each other. Wouldn’t be a bad idea…

Montoya sighed. “I swear on my grandmother’s grave, God rest her soul. Now tell me what’s going on, Gerry.”

Stephens began, “I first met Jim years ago at the Academy. He was a great cop. He is a great cop. Guys like us came in thinking we were gonna change the world. We were all rookies, and a lot of us that came up through the Academy thought that if we stuck together, we’d make it and do some good.” Stephens chuckled, “We were so naïve. I remember Jim had this fire in his eyes, a desire for justice, eager to help Gotham.” He sighed, “But the days were long and rough. Some of the other guys didn’t like us young guys showing them up, but that’s to be expected. Some of our buddies quit. The first year is always the hardest—”Bullock and Montoya nodded “—but Jim was determined to make it. A quiet guy, but he put in the time, did the work, first one in, last one out—that kind of thing.” He smiled, “I guess some things never change.”

Montoya and Bullock exchanged a knowing smile.

“Anyway, he came to me one day, out of the blue, and told me he’s transferring to Chicago. I asked him why, but he just shrugged. It was probably Barbara who made him do it. They’d just gotten married, less than a year before, and it was getting rough on her, too. Tough being married to a cop, especially an honest one at that, and Gotham was just sinking. This was around the time Thomas and Martha Wayne were murdered. It was a chaotic time. Even I felt like Gotham was losing her soul.”

Stephens sat in silence, reliving the past. Montoya prompted him, “And then?”

“I lost track of him after a few years. A couple Christmas cards here and there, but you know, people move on. What can you do? Then I got a call from him maybe seven, eight years later, asking me how I was doing, what everyone is up to. Then he let me know he was transferring back, which I thought was great. I missed the guy, and except for me and Harvey here, there really weren’t a lot of other guys from the old days. We had a lot of new people coming in and out, and the ones who stuck around, I wouldn’t trust any of them farther than I could throw them, let alone with my life.

“So Jim came back. Same as he’d always been, but different. Quieter. Older. More weary. I didn’t think anything of it. People change. But then I started hearing all sorts of crazy things from the other guys. Rumors of affairs, corruption—like I said, crazy stuff. I asked him about it just so I could shut them up, but he didn’t really say anything. Just got back to work.”

“What happened?” Montoya asked.

Stephens looked embarrassed. Bullock shook his head in disapproval. Stephens continued, “I—” he looked at Bullock pointedly—“we called up Chicago. Pretended we were looking for a James Gordon. They told me he had transferred to Gotham, so we asked to speak with his partner. We were told Detective Essen had also transferred. It didn’t take a lot of work to figure out something was up.”

“God, Stephens, you’re taking forever telling this.” Bullock took over. “We did some more digging. Detective Essen was Detective Sarah Essen. Apparently, Jim and she had an affair, and the whole thing blew up in their faces. The woman you saw standing in the office with Gordon is Sarah Essen, his former partner.” And lover.

Montoya’s eyes widened in disbelief. She shook her head, “No way.”

“Yes, and for future reference, if you ever need to know anything about anyone in a precinct, ask the desk sergeant. It’ll save you lots of time,” He added helpfully.

“Thanks, Harvey,” said Montoya with more than a little sarcasm.

“Sure. Between me and Stephens, we found out Jim and Barbara were going through another rough patch in their marriage. A baby on the way. Bills piling up. Poor guy was getting beat down at work—Chicago’s no better than Gotham—but he was doing his best to keep his nose clean. Made the ‘mistake’ of ratting out some bad cops. Ended up going down for it. Took the heat for a lot of, pardon me, shit he had nothing to do with. He was surrounded by corruption outside and inside the department. Imagine the GCPD five, ten years ago. Pressure from other cops, pressure from the brass, pressure from the wife—the man just snapped. Slept with his partner.”

The three sat in silence, each lost in his thoughts.

Montoya thought about the Commissioner. When she had first met him, he acted very proper toward her and maintained his distance. Montoya wasn’t looking to strike up a friendship, but she thought it was very chauvinistic of him. She had grumbled about it to Bullock. Harvey had shaken his head. “That’s just him. Don’t worry about it.”

Yes, it had taken him a long while to warm up to her. She remembered celebrating the morning he greeted her with a ‘Good morning’ rather than a curt nod. She had marked it down on her calendar just for laughs. But even then, it was in a formal way. Montoya thought he was just being his old-fashioned self, but this new revelation shed more than enough light on the situation.

She thought about the soon-to-be ex-Mrs. Gordon. Montoya had met her once at a policeman’s ball, and the older woman had only given her a cold, appraising look. She didn’t remember the older woman dancing that evening. She couldn’t remember Gordon dancing that evening, either. She did see him turn down a few of the other female guests. Disappointed, Montoya had been eager to catch Gordon on the ballroom floor, so she could tease him about ‘his moves’ later.

Damn, Barbara must have really ripped him a new one. It’s not that Gordon was socially inept, but in general, he didn’t speak much to the women in his precinct if he could help it. The only exception was his secretary, but she—a dear old lady with a bun—was as safe as anyone could play it.

So Renee Montoya was always addressed as Detective Montoya or just Detective. Only in recent months did Gordon begin address her by her last name alone. But never Renee. The men followed his lead, but Montoya found she didn’t mind that at all.

Montoya came to the same conclusion the Bullock and Stephens had already reached years ago. It was easy to point a finger and say, “Play with fire, and you’ll get burned.” But this was something else. She wasn’t going to judge either way. Who knows what she would have done had she been in the same hopeless situation?

Stephens spoke, “Stuck between a rock and a hard place…”

“…Something had to give,” Bullock finished.

And so, Sarah Essen returns. Montoya wondered out loud, “I wonder what she wants from him now.”

And in the back of her mind, a small voice wondered, Should Bruce know?

Downstairs in the Commissioner’s office, the tension was palpable. Gordon stared at his former lover, a ghost from his past. He opened his mouth to speak—

“Relax, worry wart. I’m not here to jump your bones.” Despite her polished, conservative appearance and smart dress suit, she was still the same old Sarah Essen, a spitfire whose bawdy humor helped carry him through some of the darkest times of his life. “Can I give an old friend a hug?”

Gordon nodded, and the two embraced. Sarah gave Gordon a tight squeeze before letting go. “How are you, Commissioner? I’m very impressed!”

Gordon carefully closed the door behind him and pulled out a chair for her. “Don’t be. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Still hating the paperwork, eh, Jimmy?” They shared a smile, thinking of countless late nights when the two of them would race each other through mountains of paperwork. Loser paid for lunch the next day.

They studied each other over the desk. The years had been kind to Sarah. He noted a wedding ring on her finger. He relaxed immediately. Sarah noted where his eyes had gone. She smirked, “You’ve haven’t changed a bit. How are you? How are Barbara and the kids?” She pointed to a picture on the wall. “Little Jimmy looks just like you.”

“Oh, they’re fine. They’re staying with Barbara’s parents right now until they get settled in.” He answered the unasked question, “We’re divorcing. We held on as long as we could for the kids, for us, but it just wasn’t enough.” He hated making excuses for anyone, least of all, himself. Sometimes, he wished he could just say, I was a bad husband and a bad father. They left me.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t meant to pry,” she looked at his wedding ring.

He played with it, twisting and turning it about his finger. “Yeah, I should take it off. Probably confuses some people,” but he made no move to remove it. “Old habits,” He explained. “How are you?”

“Fine. I’ve been working on a case out here for a couple of days. Just your usual, run-of-the-mill fraud and embezzlement. I’m a private detective now, don’t you know.”

“Really? You mentioned doing that when you were done with police work.”

“So I did. I came to Gotham to research a few things, do a little legwork. Now that I’m done, I’m heading back to Chicago. I saw you on the evening news, so I wanted to stop by and say hello. I’m sorry I surprised you.” She smiled, “But I didn’t think I’d be coming this way again.”

“How are things?” He asked.

“Life’s been good. I met a wonderful man. We’ve been married now for seven years. We have two boys—” she pulled out a few pictures from her purse “—Justice and Marshall. They sure keep us busy, but Lucas, my husband, loves it. Boys will be boys, he always says.”

Gordon looked at pictures of two rambunctious boys, each with the same fiery red hair of their mother. He picked up a picture of their family, sitting under a tree in a park. One of the boys sat in his mother’s lap, while the other climbed onto his father’s shoulders. Life had turned out well for the young, driven officer, now a contented wife and mother of two. Amazing.

“Congratulations, Sarah. I’m so happy for you,” Gordon meant it, handing the pictures back to her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for one or another to address the elephant in the room. Then Sarah spoke, “You stopped returning my phone calls. You never wrote back. I kept trying.” Like we’d promised each other we would was the unspoken implication. There was no bitterness in her voice, only curiosity.

“I know, Sarah.” He owed this woman complete honesty. No matter had happened to them in the past, she had at one point been his lifeline. He had ended their relationship and their friendship without telling her. For a man who was universally admired for his selflessness, that was the epitome of selfishness.

“After Chicago, I was so confused. Barbara—” no, he wasn’t going to blame anyone “I didn’t know what to do. I loved you so much, Sarah. There were parts of me I thought were dead. But then you came along. With you, I felt free, liberated. I had hope in humanity again. I wanted to run away and be with you. But I couldn’t throw away my marriage. Barbara would have taken our child away from me. I couldn’t divorce her. And I’d be less than man if I had left her while she carried our child. So we came back to Gotham. I thought I could have both of you. So I kept in contact with you until Barbara found out. She caught me writing you a letter. She gave me an ultimatum. To decide once for all between you and my daughter. I tore the letter up.” He stopped. “I should have told you. And not let you wonder all that time. That was unfair. I’m sorry.”

Sarah nodded. She had already forgiven him a long time ago. “I didn’t come here to rub anything in your face, Jim, but I just wanted to know.”

“I understand.”

“Do you have any regrets?”

“Sometimes I think of what might have been had I chosen you. But then I think of my two kids, Barbara and Jimmy. I don’t regret that.”

“It wasn’t a fair ultimatum,” she pointed out.

He shrugged, “It never is.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Then she spoke, “Really, I’m not angry, Jim. I was for a long time, but I learned from it, walked away and moved on. We were young. Maybe it shouldn’t have happened, maybe it was for the best when everything blew up like that, but… I’m glad for everything, even the pain. As the saying goes, ‘Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ I’m making sure Lucas and I don’t make the same mistakes.”

“No regrets?”

She shook her head. “None. You were a good friend and good partner to me, Jim. Lord knows good partners are hard to find.” Then she added slyly, flirtatiously, “Best I ever had.”

“Sarah!”

“You make it too easy,” she laughed.

“I’m glad I can accommodate you,” said Gordon, but he was smiling. He looked at the woman sitting across from him. Sarah Essen was an amazing person, full of passion. He found himself envying her.

She’d learned her lesson, but what about him? He considered his current predicament. Not quite the same situation, but there were enough similarities between the two for him to destroy it as well. The potential was there. He had someone reaching out to him for love and companionship, but he was afraid of choosing love. All those years ago, Barbara had made him choose between his lover and his own blood. He had chosen duty over love. He was forced into making the right choice, but it felt so wrong at the time. This time, there was nothing so precious at stake. Today he could make the right choice for the right reasons, and damn the consequences. He could choose love.

He considered the relationships he’d had in his life. Not that he had much to compare. He was no Casanova. There’d been only Barbara and Sarah, but both relationships had brought him tremendous pain, no doubt most of it was his own doing. But Sarah had said, I’m glad for everything, even the pain. He needed to be sure to learn from those hard experiences and purpose not to make the same mistakes over and over again.

“What are you thinking about, Jim?”

“Nothing.”

She waited for him to continue.

“Well, not nothing exactly. I’m kind of in a relationship right now…”

“Kind of?”

“Yes, I am in a relationship, but to say it’s complicated would be the biggest understatement of the year.”

“Tell me about it.”

Gordon looked down at his desk. “Well, it’s a little, um, unconventional. We’ve been, ah, kind of together for a few months now, but things are starting to progress toward, er, the physical.”

“Sounds natural enough. So, what’s the problem?”

“Like I said, it’s a little unconventional.” He thought for a moment. “I’m told I shouldn’t rush things if I’m not ready.”

Sarah nodded, “I agree. Good advice.”

“That I should be honest with myself and with… this other person.”

“Always.”

“To be careful about doing the ‘right things’ for the wrong reasons.”

“We both know all about that,” She gave him an ironic smile.

“I was told that… this person would wait for me, but sometimes I’m not so sure about that.”

“How long since you last spoke with… this person?”

“Three days ago.”

“Most people don’t walk away from a relationship and move on within three days. Not if it’s something worth fighting for. Especially if it’s something worth fighting for.”

They looked at each other for a moment.

“All good pieces of advice,” Sarah replied. “But since everyone else has already given you their two cents, here’s mine: choose love.”

They sat in silence once more. Gordon sat at his desk, thinking it over and over. He really should be having this conversation with Bruce himself.

Sarah added, “Jim, you’ll never know until you try.”

At that moment, Gordon’s secretary buzzed in. “Bruce Wayne is here to see you.”

His heart leapt with joy. “Thank you, Marge. I’ll be out in just a moment.”

Sarah noticed immediately. Once a detective, always a detective. “It’s him, isn’t it.”

An eternity passed before Gordon nodded. He tensed, waiting for her reaction. But he saw no judgment, no accusations. He relaxed.

“Bruce Wayne! You didn’t tell me you knew him. And very well at that.”

Gordon flushed.

“The Prince of Gotham? You’d better introduce me to him, Jim Gordon!”

“Okay, okay!” Gordon walked to the door and opened it. “Hello, Bruce. Please come in. May I introduce you to—” he looked at Sarah “—a good friend of mine, an old friend from Chicago, Mrs. Sarah…” He trailed off, looking at her in question.

“Kennedy,” Sarah supplied.

“Kennedy. Sarah, this is Bruce Wayne.”

Bruce extended his hand in greeting, “Hello, Mrs. Kennedy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sarah Kennedy took his hand and smiled, “The pleasure is all mine.”

“I’ll just see her out, Bruce. Be right back.” Gordon and Sarah walked through the bullpen and down the stairs.

“So that’s him.”

“That’s him.” Gordon repeated.

As they headed toward the front lobby, Sarah stopped Gordon. “Jim, listen to me and listen to me good. Look at me. Don’t deny yourself this happiness. When that opportunity comes again, the opportunity for love, take it. Take it, Jim.” She emphasized. “Pursue happiness. Let others do the same. Don’t deny him. Don’t deny yourself.”

She gave him one last hug and waved a final goodbye. Gordon raised his hand in return. He watched her go and felt a pang in his heart. Good partners were hard to find, and he had just said goodbye to one of the greatest friends he’ll ever have in his life. He thought about her parting words. Maybe it was time for him to walk away from the past and move on with his life, too. He removed his wedding ring and put it in his pocket. You’ll never know until you try.

He turned to walk up the stairs to face his future.