Title: In No Uncertain Terms
Author: gaudy night
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jim Gordon and Bruce Wayne deal with the fallout after the events of Lay Down The Law. Pre-In Cold Blood.
A/N: Cliché #11 in my NaNoWriMo series, Jim Gordon’s Life As a Series of Clichés.
Word Count: 3,828

The next time they saw one another was ten days later at yet another fundraiser, a society function Police Commissioner Jim Gordon was required to attend. This time, Gordon had chosen not to book any arguments with Mayor Garcia regarding his mandatory attendance at the benefit for a local children’s hospital, much to the latter’s shock and surprise. Gordon had merely shrugged, fully resigned to fulfill his obligations to the department and to the city.

Standing in the mayor’s office that morning, Gordon had thought to himself, Might as well. What else am I going to do that evening?

But later, as he had walked back to the station, Gordon realized after the fact it was also the type of soiree that billionaire and Gotham’s favorite son Bruce Wayne would probably attend to keep up appearances.

Shit.

Gordon already knew the drill. Bruce would undoubtedly make his grand entrance (fashionably late, of course), make the rounds, chat up the mayor and other key figureheads of Gotham, and write a most generous check, before moving on to charming the ladies, possibly leaving the event early with two or three of those lovely ladies on either arm. The next day, the morning papers would be filled with ridiculous speculations about Bruce and his new lady friend, or friends. Only Gordon and Bruce would know the truth about that evening, and they’d laugh about it over breakfast the following day.

Yes, Gordon was familiar with the playboy façade Bruce insisted on maintaining. He understood there had to be a very good reason why he did that—Bruce was nowhere near as flighty as the gossip column suggested. When he and Bruce were—here Gordon swallowed—together, he had wanted to ask Bruce why he bothered going through the whole charade since it did bother him a little, this unnecessary playacting. But he never took the opportunity to do so. Now he realized he should have, and he regretted it. But at this point, it didn’t really matter anymore, did it. As far as Gordon was concerned, Bruce Wayne could do whatever he wanted with his life and leave Gordon the hell out of it.

Gordon arrived at the station and walked straight into his office, avoiding his officers and shutting the door behind him. He hung up his coat and sat behind his desk, still trying to figure out where it all went wrong. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He felt so tired.

The past ten days had been rough on him, an emotional rollercoaster that had Gordon alternating between righteous anger and ready forgiveness. He missed Bruce terribly. He could admit it to himself. He missed the other man’s company, his good humor, their growing intimacy—Gordon shook his head. Well, if it seemed too good to be true, then it probably was.

It was Bruce who had tried to take it too far, betraying the trust Gordon had explicitly placed in his hands. Why the hell did he have to do that? His anger was rekindled. He remembered Bruce’s words that night. “Take a risk, Jim.” Gordon wondered, What was that supposed to mean? He had taken the risk, hadn’t he? And now look what happened to them.

Gordon again wished he hadn’t invested so much of himself into this relationship. But a small part of him was thankful that he had. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, as the saying goes. Yet on the other hand, he felt as if a vital part of him had been ripped away from his very being.

It hurt.

That was thing about relationships. They required plenty of courage and just as much foolishness from both participants. Right now, Gordon very much felt like a fool. He had thought he was past all that nonsense in his life. But once again, he was proved wrong.

His thoughts turned to the fundraiser later that evening. Gordon was dreading the possible encounter with Bruce. Sooner or later, one of them would have to do something about this. He just wished it wouldn’t be tonight. But yes, they had unfinished business between them.

He sighed. All this worrying and self-torment wasn’t going to get anything done. He picked up a report on his desk to begin reading it when an awful through entered his mind, unbidden.

But what if they were already finished?

“Jim, it’s Bruce… again. I know you’re avoiding me, and, uh, you have every right to do that. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. If you would just let me explain… please.” Bruce Wayne left another voicemail message for Gordon.

He had no doubt Gordon would receive this latest message, along with the dozens he had already left. He knew Jim checked his messages religiously. Surely Bruce was getting his point across. They all had the same meaning. I’m sorry. I messed up. Please forgive me. Can we talk?

But Gordon was refusing to pick up his calls, let alone return them. It had been ten days. Ten long, miserable days. It was hell on earth. Bruce had briefly considered appearing at the precinct to catch Gordon off guard, but he feared what Montoya, Bullock, Stephens, and the rest of the GCPD would do to him. Gordon probably didn’t realize it, but he had a trio of loyal friends and an entire department who, if they ever found out what Bruce had done… well, Bruce did not want to think about it.

Alfred had also noticed something had massively gone awry. Gordon was as much a fixture at the Wayne penthouse as Bruce was at the other man’s apartment. His absence was deeply felt. The older man looked very much like he wanted to ask what had happened between the two of them, but had refrained from doing so. No, Bruce wasn’t about to confide to Alfred. Alfred would have undoubtedly sided with Gordon, anyway. And rightly so.

Yes, he’d fucked up. Big time.

And now he was alone with his conscience taunting him mercilessly. What were you trying to do? Why did you abuse his trust? He’s a good man. Why was it so important to you for him to see you like that? You scared him away. He’s terrified of you. What you did—doesn’t make a lot of sense now, does it? You couldn’t just tell him flat out? Did you think you would risk losing him if you had? Like you lost Rachel? And what about now? Haven’t you lost him anyway?

Shit. He picked up the phone and tried again. They would settle this once and for all tonight.

Gordon stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He had just gotten out of the shower and was now shaving, getting ready for the fundraiser that evening. The event was more than two hours away, but there was nothing else to occupy his time except to get ready. Out in the bedroom, he heard his cell phone vibrating on top of the dresser. Wonder who that could be, he thought wryly. He walked over anyway. He read the name on the small screen. Bruce.

He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to pick it up or let it go to voicemail. He waited until the phone stopped vibrating and then a few seconds more until it beeped, indicating a new voicemail message. He picked up the phone and pressed the button to hear the message. On the other end, he could hear Bruce’s voice, “Jim, I know you’re going to be at the fundraiser tonight and I wanted to…” Gordon refused to listen to the rest of the message. He immediately deleted it. I don’t think so, Bruce.

He walked back to the bathroom to continue getting ready.

“…talk to you about us. Please don’t leave tonight until we, uh, figure this out. I’m sorry. You know that. I can’t say it enough.” He paused for a moment. “So, I guess I’ll see you tonight. I miss you. Bye.” Bruce hung up. He sounded like a heartbroken teenage boy, but he couldn’t care less. He knew Gordon would get the message. But what he planned to do with it, well, that was out of Bruce’s hands.

As he stood up to walk to his bedroom to get ready for that evening, he had a distinct feeling in his gut that he would be in for the fight of his life tonight. He was ready for that. This relationship was something worth fighting for, even if that included fighting Gordon himself. Ten days had been long enough to give both of them room to breath and time to think. God help them, but they were going to settle this tonight—whether Gordon liked it or not.

Jim Gordon stood beside the mayor near the front of the stage. The entire crowd listened intently as yet another city council member stood behind the podium, praised their attendance that evening, and emphasized the reason they had gathered there that evening—to try to prevent the children’s hospital from closing. It was a good cause, but Gordon had stopped listening long ago. The benefit began at seven o’clock. He looked at his watch. It was nearly eight o’clock and there was no sign of Bruce anywhere. He breathed a sigh of relief. Just a few more minutes and then he could go home, having fulfilled his duty for the evening. He let his shoulders relax.

Just then, a rustle swept through the crowd. Gordon heard a woman whisper excitedly beside him, “He’s here! Bruce Wayne is here!”

Gordon couldn’t help himself. His heart beating nervously, he turned around to take a look and immediately found himself face to face with the man himself. Bruce stood directly in front of him. They stared at each other, neither daring to make the first move.

Mayor Garcia interrupted. “Mr. Wayne! What a pleasant surprise! You know Commissioner Gordon, of course…” he turned to introduce Gordon.

Bruce smiled politely. “Commissioner,” he acknowledged, extending his hand toward Gordon.

Gordon ignored it. “Excuse me.” He stepped back and walked off in the opposite direction. Bruce hid his disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Wayne,” Garcia sputtered.

“Not at all,” Bruce smiled to reassure the mayor, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing to worry about.” You’re not getting away that easily, Jim. Not if I can help it.

After ten days of avoiding each other like the plague, Gordon could have handled them accidentally making eye contact with one another tonight, but anything more than that was too much. He couldn’t handle it.

He found a quiet place to sit. Just a few more minutes, and he could leave. He’d already made sure he was seen by the right people, the mayor, the city council, and the big donors. He was getting good at this, thanks to some coaching by Bruce. Bruce.

It had been ten days since… Gordon didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t stand it. He stood up and grabbed his coat. As he passed the main hall, he caught a glimpse of Bruce laughing uproariously at something the Mayor had just said. He was obviously enjoying himself. Just then, Bruce looked up and met his eye.

Gordon’s jaw clenched. He walked out the front door and never turned back.

At the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Gordon leave, saw his eyes dark with pain and his jaw clenched in anger. Gordon had changed. His eyes and expression now revealed nothing. His mouth set in a firm line. Bruce wanted to see him. To see if the fire between them still burned.

But it was like looking into the eyes of a complete stranger.

Bruce tried to follow where Gordon was going, but a city council member was speaking to him now, trying to get his attention. Bruce tried to focus on what the man was saying, sticking to the act he knew how to play so well.

It was his entire fault.

An hour later, Bruce knocked on Gordon’s apartment door, but he already knew Gordon wasn’t home. He could feel it. The lights were all off. Gordon always left the hallway light on before going to bed. He said it was to discourage prowlers.

Bruce had snorted in response. “In this neighborhood? In this apartment building?”

Gordon had just shrugged. A man of habit. Another peccadillo of Gordon’s he found to be incredibly adorable.

Bruce sighed. He probably knew I’d come looking for him. He pulled out his cell phone, but thought better of it. He got back into the elevator. He stepped out on the ground floor and got into his car. He drove to the police station. The streets were all but empty, but he drove purposefully obeying all traffic laws. Jim would have liked that.

He walked into the building, and the desk sergeant perked up when he saw him. “Hello, Mr. Wayne.”

“Hello, sergeant.”

“Here to see the Commissioner?”

“Yes, I am.” He’s here.

“Very good, sir.” The desk sergeant waved him upstairs.

Bruce walked up the stairs and into the bullpen. It was late, but there were still a few men on duty. His face fell when he saw that the lights in Gordon’s office were off. He’s not here. Where could he be? He looked around and saw Stephens sitting at his desk.

Bruce approached him, and Stephens looked up to greet him. “Hello, Bruce.”

“Hello, Gerry. How are you?” He probably doesn’t know. Jim’s not the type to spill his guts. He keeps it bottled in until he’s ready to explode.

But it didn’t take a detective first grade to figure out something was wrong. Stephens had felt the change in Gordon, and the Commissioner’s poker face was notoriously nonexistent. “Fine.” He watched Bruce closely. “Here to see Jim?”

“Yeah. Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah.” Stephens crossed his arms.

Bruce tried to remain patient. “Can you please tell me where he is? I need to talk to him.”

Stephens remained impassive.

Bruce accepted defeat. “I need to apologize. I fucked up.” He waited an eternity before Stephens nodded, obviously debating whether talking to Bruce was the same as betraying Gordon. “Please, Gerry.”

After a long pause, Stephens spoke again, “He’s been quiet. I don’t know what happened, but… Look, Bruce. I like you a lot. You seem like a good guy. I hope you two can work this—” he gestured vaguely with his hands “—out. Go to him. He’s upstairs. Make sure you knock. Let him know you’re there.” With that he grabbed his coat and left.

Bruce trudged up the stairs leading to the rooftop. The door was left slightly ajar, and he could see Gordon standing a few feet away with his back to the door, looking over Gotham. He stood by the broken bat signal, in deep thought.

Irony of ironies.

Bruce watched him for a moment. He missed him. He missed his company, their familiarity with one another, and the intimacy they shared. The man standing by the bat signal held Bruce’s happiness in his hands. The problem was, he didn’t know it. Did you ever tell him that? No. Tell him. I will. Now. Yes.

He raised his hand to knock on the door to let Gordon know he was not alone.

“I’m not the man you think I am. You need to know that.” Gordon had been running that over and over in his mind. Bruce wanted to tell him something, but ended up attacking him instead. He sighed. After Bruce had left, he had stood there, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Forgiveness came easily to Gordon. That’s just the way it was. He’d found out the hard way that life was too short to hold grudges. But this was different. He was finding it very difficult to truly forgive Bruce. Forgive and forget. He couldn’t forget being pinned down against his will, Bruce in full control, ignoring his cries.

Yet even in the midst of his confusion, he had tried to rationalize it. He had placed his trust in Bruce, yes. To do whatever he wanted with him. And he had wanted it as well. He was a willing participant, as in all things they had indulged in up to then. Whether it was trying out a new restaurant or activity, he’s say ‘no’, Bruce would say ‘yes’, and they’d end up doing things Bruce’s way. Wasn’t that how this all began? So Bruce was just letting things take their course, right?

He was more shook by the reality of where they were. An intimate relationship with another man. He’d thought about it a lot in recent weeks. They had agreed to wait until he was ready. But sometimes Gordon himself didn’t know if he was or not. At times, he found himself wanting Bruce to stay. Other times, he found himself embarrassingly grateful at the hint of any interruption. Talk about mixed signals. If he were on the other side of this relationship, he’d be extremely frustrated. Perhaps all this waiting had quickly soured from sweet anticipation to pure agony.

His conscience berated him. What’s the big deal, anyway? He wants you. You want him. Get on with it. Save your precious morality for something else. You’ve already taken the leap. I did, but that doesn’t mean he can pull out the safety net from under me. He knows. I told him. Yes, you did.

By mutual consent—that was what they had agreed to. Gordon knew that if they took that next step, it meant a permanent commitment in his mind. But did Bruce feel the same about him? Was that how he looked at them? You don’t know because you never asked him. You just played along and let things go as far as they did. But he had said ‘no.’ He had said ‘stop.’

But it wasn’t like he could ask anyone else for a reference. Were the rules the same for their relationship as for his other ones? Bruce always seemed to be a step or two ahead of the game. Gordon would have never guessed he was hiding anything. The façade the younger man wore in public—what if their relationship was a façade as well? Gordon thought he knew Bruce, but how well could one know another person? You’ve known him for over a year. Yes, but even after his marriage with Barbara, he was still finding out things about her.

His conscience took over. You don’t know because you never asked. Has he had any other lovers before you? You don’t know, do you. Did you ever ask where he thought you two would be a year down the road? In two? Three? No, because you were too afraid to ask.

Gordon had taken the leap, common sense be damned. But now it was coming back to fully reassert itself with a firm ‘I told you so.’ The whole thing was a mistake, and as best as he could figure, it was not too late to back out.

“Jim, do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

A look of apology flashed over Bruce’s face before…

He had trusted his heart. What a load of bullshit. Jim Gordon, you’re a fool. If it seemed too good to be true, then it probably—

From behind him, he heard someone knock once on the door. He turned at the sound of the door creaking.

Bruce stepped out from the doorway. He saw rage in Gordon’s eyes.

“What do you want?” Harshly, nothing at all like the Jim Gordon he’d come to know. Bruce could see he was angry, hurt, and scared.

“We need to talk,” he said simply.

Gordon didn’t reply. They looked at each other across the rooftop for a moment. Then Gordon moved to brush past Bruce, but Bruce grabbed his left arm to stop him from leaving. Gordon instinctively turned and punched him in the face with full force. The impact of the blow knocked Bruce down to one knee, letting go of Gordon’s arm. Gordon reached down to help, but remembered himself. He looked down at Bruce, an unreadable expression on his face. The punch had fully connected, and his hand was beginning to hurt, but he wasn’t about to show any vulnerability.

He felt a powerful surge of satisfaction at having knocked Bruce Wayne down to his knees. Gordon pointed a finger at him, shaking in anger, “Why did you have to do that?”

Bruce staggered to his feet. “I deserved that,” he said quietly.

Hi anger rekindled, Gordon made another lunge at Bruce. This time, the younger man deftly sidestepped him. Bruce made a grab for his arm, twisting it behind his back. Gordon struggled against him, but he was no match for Bruce’s strength.

Bruce held him firmly against his body. “Stop.” Gordon struggled even harder until Bruce had to let him go. He tumbled to the ground a few feet away, his breath heaving.

Bruce cringed. What the hell am I doing? I’m just making things worse. “Jim, I’m sorry. Please let me explain…”

Gordon scrambled to his feet, both fists clenched. “You had your chance,” he bit off.

“Jim, please listen to me,” he pleaded.

“No.”

Bruce lost his patience. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want it.”

“I told you I wasn’t ready.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Fuck you!” Gordon screamed.

“Be quiet. Keep your voice down.” Bruce lowered his own voice.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” Gordon’s voice was shaking.

“Jim…” Bruce took a step toward Gordon.

“No, stay back.” Gordon looked for a way to escape, but Bruce was blocking his exit.

“Jim, please. I’m sorry.”

“I trusted you.”

Past tense. Bruce responded accusingly, “You trust too easily.”

Gordon looked incredulous. “Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“No, I’m trying to explain…”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t care what you want.” Bruce was frustrated and clearly not at his best.

“Obviously,” Gordon retorted.

That one hurt. Bruce was at a loss for words. Fight, damn it.

“So, what do you have to say? What’s so important that you have to tell me?” Gordon demanded. He waited for Bruce’s response, but there was none. “Figures. You had your fun.”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This was not working out at all.

“Jim—” he tried again.

“What are we doing here, Bruce? What do you want from me?”

Without thinking, Bruce answered, “Everything.”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t come near me. We’re done.”

“Jim!” But Gordon quickly brushed past him, slamming the door shut behind him. Goddamnit! Bruce sank to his knees. His face was starting to hurt, but he ignored it. What had he done to them?