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“Tomorrow, you take the big chair. You don’t have a choice in the matter, Commissioner Gordon.”
Jim Gordon would never forget the forced lightness in the Mayor’s voice as he said that. It was as if the Mayor wasn’t sure whether to congratulate or pity him. He wasn’t quite sure what to think of it himself. Being the Commissioner would give him power to try and do good but it also put more responsibility on his shoulders. It made him a whole boatload of new enemies who would like nothing better to see him fall flat on his face or worse.
He saw the Joker clapping and ice trickled down his spine. //That maniac is behind bars now and that’s where he’s going to stay.//
He shook his head. He needed to go home and see his family. Barbara would be rightfully furious for his deception. He pictured her accusing eyes and winced. Hopefully, she’d be more glad to see him alive.
The butterflies decided to have a wrestling match in his stomach. He ran a hand through his hair and gave Detective Stephens a look. Stephens nodded almost imperceptibly and raised his voice. “All right, you guys. You heard the Commissioner. Stay away from those bars. We don’t want to give anything to their mob lawyers to use against us.”
While Stephens held the others’ attention, Gordon made his way to the door to the stairwell. He told himself that he’d go home soon. He just needed a private moment to gather his thoughts.
The adrenaline from the fight with the Joker was beginning to wear off. He leaned on the railing as he climbed the stairs. He stopped just short of the door to the roof and sat on the top step.
He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He lit one and inhaled deeply. He blew the smoke out slowly.
He felt a sudden prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He didn’t hear the roof door open but he knew that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t move. “You took quite a spill on that bike. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” a voice rumbled from the shadows behind him.
He tried to ignore the tension in the atmosphere. Sweat broke out on the palms of his hands. He shut his eyes and took another long drag from the cigarette.
“You look pretty good for a dead man.”
Gordon’s heart started pounding in his chest. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said there was anxiety in the Batman’s voice. He wasn’t sure how to respond. They both knew the deception was necessary.
He opened his eyes. He dropped the cigarette butt and stepped on it. He could feel the eyes boring into the back of his head and rubbed his sweaty palms on his knees.
Suddenly, two strong arms grabbed him from behind. He didn’t have time to react before he was shoved back into a wall. He hit the back of his head. One iron fist dug into his shoulder and there was a forearm across his throat.
Batman leaned in close and growled in his ear, “That’s for dying and leaving me to face this alone.”
The Batman was a hot, solid mass against him. Gordon’s breath caught in his throat. “I…” he stammered.
Batman pulled back just enough for Gordon to see his face. There was more emotion in those eyes than Gordon had ever seen. He saw pain, fear, and something stronger that he couldn’t identify. It took him a moment to find his voice. “I’m sorry.”
Batman’s forearm moved and Gordon noticed that he wasn’t wearing gloves. Gordon felt Batman’s fingers gently threading through his hair. He unconsciously leaned into the soft touch. There was a heaviness in his chest and he couldn’t breathe.
Then Batman leaned forward and kissed him. It was open and intense with an almost desperate quality. His lips parted and Batman’s tongue swept through his mouth. He reached out and ran his hand down the armor covering Batman’s chest.
He didn’t realize that he’d closed his eyes until Batman stepped away. He couldn’t move from the wall. He wasn’t sure if his legs would support him. “What was that for?” he asked breathlessly.
“For being alive.”
He opened his eyes to discover that Batman was gone. He touched his lips and a small smile slipped through. “I hope Barbara can be as forgiving.”