This is set within the new Batman continuity where Dick is Batman, Damian is Robin and Stephanie is Batgirl.
"I often consider retireing. But then again. I often consider dressing up as a woman." - John Hurt
I start most days the same. I look at the clock and have a cup of coffee. Three sugars. I never tell Barbara. I love that she still insists on checking my cups for sugar residue. I'm the commissioner of the Gotham Police Force and I can't have sugar. That for me is the funniest thing I have ever heard. I love my daughter. The only family I have now. There are a few things I miss about this being younger. I miss my youthful red hair and the ability to run up stairs. I miss being able to run on the beach with my daughter. I miss both of my wives and my son. I miss that once upon a time. Men in black robbed banks and kidnapped little kids for money. It's not like that anymore. It's people dressed as animals or monsters running around shooting people for the sheer dumb joy of it. I remember, the first time I met him. Batman I mean. He was younger then. So, was I. He used to talk in a voice that made him sound like he had a cold. He know sounds like he has throat cancer.
Today, is a big day for me. I get to pay my daughter a visit. Normally, every Tuesday me and her have dinner at a small Diner called Jerry's. I normally have the steak. She has the lasagne. Every week without fail she is always on time and I am always late. It's been that way since the dawn of time. But, not this Tuesday. Barbara says she can't make it because she has physical therapy but I think she's lying to me. At the end of the day, and I hate the admit this but it's true, I doubt she'll ever walk again. I know that time changes things and so forth but I like to see the little changes in people. The positive ones and the negative ones. It's just nice to realise that people are not stuck in the same cycle.
After eating another salt, sugar and taste free ready made "Lean Cuisine" meal that Barbara has me eating I go to work. In the office are the usual suspects. Garcia is sat playing internet checkers with woman from Romania. Andrews is sat with a clearly glued on wig that he claims "just grew". And then there is Bullock. Good old Harvey Bullock. He sits at his desk watching "Dead Wood" while eating donuts and drinking steaming hot coffee. There's something in him that loves Ian McShane maybe a little too much. He turns and looks at me spilling jelly on his tie. I smile slightly at him then I walk into my office where I find a note.
"Jimbo, this was left for you. Dunno what it's about. Looks like a bat might have dropped it off. Bullock."
I scrunch up the note and throw it in the bin. I miss as always. Bullock raises his head over his computer monitor to look at me. I nod slowly to show him I read the note. The item in question is a card with lipstick on it. The card was a Joker card. I already know what to do with it. In Gotham any crime that happens in day isn't worth looking at. Shop robbery or a mugging. The rookies can handle that. I just sit in my office and vegetate. What am I supposed to do? When it reaches seven o'clock and it begins to get dark I go to the coffee machine and get myself a nice hot brew. I make my way up the stairs and to the roof. I switch the flood light on and pull up a collapsible chair. I started using them more and more because sometimes, and I'm not bothered by it, the bat doesn't show. I just like to be ready for when he does.
This was one of those nights where he doesn't show. I'm not all that bothered by it. He rarely shows. I wait for something -or someone- to come. After about three hours Bullock runs up the stairs panting and panicking.
"Eh, Jimbo. Fire down town. Hostages on the roof." He says catching his breath.
"What kind of situation?" I ask standing up and dropping my coffee cup off the edge of the building. It falls the twenty three floors and splats on the ground. No one gets hit. My luck kicks in once more.
"It's filled under J." Bullock says to me and turns to run down the metal stairs case. My heart sinks and I take out my cars keys and run down the stairs with him. We have trouble, the both of us, in running down the stairs to the car. Bullock because of his large frame and me because of my age and heart issues. It stings as I run but I've felt worse. Flass made sure of that. Poor old dead Flass.
We drive down town in the car. All units speeding around. Ambulances and the fire department are already there when I step out the car. I take out a loud speaker and look at that grinning freak once again and try not to use bad language in front of terrified little children.
"Joker, I know you're up there. Let the people go down the fire escape and I promise you won't be harmed. If you fail to comply. I think Batman might get angry." Bullock grunts a short laugh. All the rookies are terrified. It's clear they did not sign up for this.
"Jimbo." Bullock says looking at me. I look at him without saying a word. The heat emanates off the building and forces the surrounding people to sweat a little. Even I begin to. "What if there are still people in the house?"
I didn't think of that. Of course I didn't. Why would I? But he's right. Bullock you're right. I look around hoping to see anyone who could go in there. There isn't anyone dumb enough to risk death for potentially no one. With the exception of me. I throw the loud speaker down and run into the building. As I enter I hear the crowd cheer. It's been a while since anyone's cheered for me. The apartment building is boiling. I take three steps and begin to sweat like a pig. I can feel the sweat trickle down off my brow, down my nose and onto my moustache. My glasses are fogging up. I take them off and clean them. This was harder than I though. I make my way up the stairs terrified of what will happen if one of the steps breaks under me. Luckily, none of them do. I can hear crying. I run across a hall and see half the landing break and fall. I'm old. Almost seventy. But I can do this. Forget your age, Jim. Forget the two kids and the two wives. Forget Batman and Robin. You're twenty again. This is Chicago and you're twenty. I run and jump. Narrowly, I miss the other and am forced to hold on for dear, sweet life.
I'm no longer twenty. I'm not rookie cop Jimmy. I'm Commissioner Gordon. I'm not a strong as I was. I'm not as agile. I eat "Lean Cuisine" and watch "Lost" by myself. I have trouble opening jam jars and I can't run up stairs. I can't cook and I have back issues. But, that won't stop me from doing this. I can do it I just need to pull myself up. I manage, barely. I look around and can still hear the crying. It's a high pitched voice. A little girl, perhaps. I push the door open. It falls down instead. Looking around the room I see a person covered by a blanket.
"It's okay sweetie, I'm here to help, okay?" It's getting harder to breath. This was a big mistake. I pull the blanket off the girl and am hit in the face with a large hammer. It wasn't a girl. It was a woman. It was Harley Quinn. I take back my comment this wasn't a big mistake. This was a huge mistake. Quinn goes on about how I'm old and ugly and other things that:
One - I already know.
And two - I don't really give a damn about.
She raises that large hammer of hers and I chuckle. It's odd how the only thing I can wonder is where all these Arkham rejects get their clothes from. Who goes into a shop and asks for a half white half black suit? Or a gimp outfit with a tail? That's why I love Gotham. Only in Gotham. As the giant hammer, which I assume she hasn't got a permit for, comes hurtling down it's stopped by a small chord. Batman? I turn my head and see. It's Batgirl. Harley releases the hammer and takes out a gun and shoots batgirl at point blank range.
"No!" I scream. Batgirl falls to the floor surrounded by fire. I take out my gun and shoot Quinn in her left knee cap and her right arm. She falls back. Debris now covers my only exit and Batgirl's breathing mask has fallen off and begun to melt. I take my coat off and wrap Batgirl in it. She's small. Can't be older than seventeen. I pick her up and can still hear Quinn whining about the pain while calling The Joker and asking for help which he bluntly refuses. I laugh a little. The window isn't open but the glass is hot enough to break easily. I pick up a jack-in-the-box form the floor and throw it at the window. Easy. Piece of cake. Stepping over the now blacking out Quinn I climb out the window. With Batgirl over my shoulder I attempt my way down the fire escape. It's by this point I realise that there were no hostages and that they're all dummies from shops. It was a trap to lure Batman- or Batgirl- to their death. Unlucky for them they got saddled with me. I carry Batgirl to my car and put her in the back. The media go wild at this. Lots of I'm a hero and I saved the day. I don't care. Nor does Bullock. He looks at me and grins slightly before lighting up a cigar and getting in the car. I get in the passenger seat since Bullock was already starting the engine. I'm exhausted anyway. We drive back to the MCU. I have Bullock carry Batgirl up the stairs. She's going to be fine. Just a little sick. The fire is put out. I assume the Joker escaped and Harley with him. Not too bothered. There's a little girl in need of help. I take the coat from her and place it on the collapsible chair. Bullock places Batgirl on the ground for her to breath. I get her a cup of water. The fresh air soothes me. My head ache is going and my hair is now drying from all the sweat. I don't turn the flood light on. He knows what happened. He has to.
After twenty three very long and worrying minutes I finally say something. It's just me and Batgirl on the roof. I look down at her and just say.
"Babs." I know it's not her. But Batgirl reminds me of her. I wait sitting by Batgirl hoping she wakes up. After a while I begin to fall asleep until something brushes past me. I wake up to see Batman on the edge of the roof holding Batgirl in his arms. I stand up quickly and look at him. Now the initial heat of the fire has worn off I am actually very cold. I put my coat back on and look at Batman.
"Thank you." He says to me. I shake my head and look at him.
"Thank you." I reply. He leaps off the building and glides of into the night. I'm sure Batgirl will be fine. I look at my watch. 11:30 pm. I take out my cell and call Barbara. She answers knowing it's me.
"Hi dad." She says warmly. I stand on the edge of the roof and smile to myself. She probably missed the news. I'm sure she'll see it tomorrow.
"How are you for tomorrow night?" I reply looking out of Gotham City. The city is bright with street lamps and bill boards. We talk about things. We'll have dinner tomorrow.