A Story of Days to Come

Gordon couldn't suppress a shiver as he strode into the Commissioner's office. My office, he reminded himself. It's my office now. The words felt foreign, even in his thoughts. This was the room where, only days ago, he had meant to keep his predecessor safe; and it was where he had knelt over that man's convulsing form, screaming for help that was already too late. Someone had at least had the decency to replace the chair that sat behind that imposing desk, but that small change was not enough to dispel the surreality of it all.

The promotion itself had been something of a shock. He had never been one to kid himself about what the other cops on the force thought of him. Apart from his team, few made secret their dislike and distrust of him. Even the late Commissioner had on occasion made clear exactly where he stood. He was just too close to that mysterious, impossible creature for anyone to be comfortable with, though he had never asked for it. Apparently however, the mayor hadn't been informed of the police social hierarchy and had seen fit to appoint him to what he called "The Big Job."

And it was a big job, as Gordon was finding out. A very big job. So big in fact, that he wondered if he had really been the right man for it.

Right now, though, he didn't have time for doubts. Right now a psychotic killer was loose in his city and hundreds of lives were at stake.

He had a job to do.

He picked up the gun from where it lay on the desk and gazed at it for a moment, lost in some private memory. Snapping back to reality, he shoved the thing into his holster and spun on his heel, walking from the room without a backward glance.

It was going to be a long night.

A/n: This was what came out of a prompt for "A character walks into a room, picks something up, then leaves." A bit off my norm, but I'm fond of it. Gordon doesn't get enough spotlight anyway.

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