Normally he considered himself a law abiding citizen, though living in Gotham had blurred the line and he'd undoubtedly done questionable things in the name of catching the monsters that haunted the shadows. This, however, was one that bothered him, the one thing that rubbed him the wrong way.
The open container sitting in the cup holder.
It was a minor thing, a simple can of beer, half empty, sitting there in the cup holder. Jim glared at it, having never been the sort to drink and drive before, and to be fair, he wasn't currently driving and hadn't been when he popped the tab. He'd done the proper thing, waiting until he pulled off to taste the contents, knowing full well as he did so that it wouldn't help him forget or do a damn in easing the pain that had taken up residence in his chest. One drink wouldn't even be enough to get him buzzed.
But what else could he do?
A fat raindrop splattered against the windshield, followed by another and then another. A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, the storm announcing its arrival. In a blink his world filled with the telltale rat-tat of raindrops on the roof of the car. Normally he enjoyed the song of the rain, especially at night when he could let it lull him to sleep. He'd always imagine the heavenly water washing the streets clean and whisking away the evil that seemed to permeate Gotham.
If only.
Of all the cities he could have picked, why did it have to be the one overrun with maniacs?
And the one home to a tenacious boy and his equally matched guardian?
Jim's reached for the beer, downing most of what remained, his gaze never wavering. Though scene through the windshield was now blurred, but he knew it by heart. Especially since he was simply staring at the stony façade of the wall that outlined the Wayne property.
You re acting a bit like a stalker, you know, the thought crossed his mind. Would serve you right if someone called the cops or one of those thugs you keep trying to catch stumbles upon you like an injured duck, takes you out.
"Let them," he muttered, lightning slashing the sky.
Who knew heartache could be so bitter, so cruel, leaving him shattered and numb all at the same time? Sure, Jim went through the motions when things ended with Barbra and Lee, but the loss of them, neither compared to how he felt now.
Like having your heart torn out while it's still beating.
Jim considered leaving, going home and crashing in bed, or even on the couch while some decades old rerun played on the TV.
When he'd left his apartment about two hours ago he'd been full of courage with plans of matching up tongue front door of Wayne Manor and demanding to speak with Alfred. Somewhere along the way, however, he lost his nerve. Him, the one cop who was willing to make a stand against corruption and face the worst Gotham was willing to throw at him. Too chicken to see the man who claimed his heart.
And who ever expected him to fall for a guy?
Certainly not him.
There was something about Alfred, though, something he couldn't quite put his finger on despite the many hours he spent pondering, seeking for an answer, an understanding to the attraction. He'd never wanted another man quite the way he burned with desire for Alfred.
Wow, where the he'll did that come from?
Jim crushed the beer can when it failed to yield any more liquid. Maybe it was time he head home. Thunder rumbled, the rain showing no signs of letting up. Jim twisted the key in the ignition. The engine purred.
And something hit the window.
Jim jumped, instinctively reaching for his service revolver. His gaze shifted to the passenger door where he discovered a sopping wet Bruce Wayne, the one responsible for the tapping. Jim hit the power lock and Bruce slipped inside. Water dripped from his hair, droplets coursing down his cheeks, his nose and chin.
"Bruce, what are you doing out here in this weather?"
The teen gave him a level gaze, those dark eyes full of knowing. "I could ask you the same thing."
Jim swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. "How did, um, how dis you know?"
"Perimeter alarms. Alfred's idea, for good reason of course."
"Of course," Jim echoed. It stood to reason that if Bruce was aware of his lurking than so was Alfred. He was thankful for the dark interior of the sedan, hoping it concealed his embarrassment.
"What I can't figure out is why you're sitting out here and have been for hours."
"Just-"
"And don't lie to me. I know about you two."
His statement hung in the air between them with some weight, Jim's heart skipping a beat. It had been their intention all along to keep things from Bruce, unsure of how he would react to the two of them being romantically involved. Alfred, of course, had told him time and time again that chances were Bruce would be fine, and Jim saw now that he should have listened. Bruce was a brilliant young man with an open mind and accepting heart; which easily for him in trouble a time or two.
"I…uh…"
Bruce twisted the temperature dial, turning up the heat to chase away the chill he must have felt. "Let me take a shot in the dark. Can of beer, sulking in the dark, you two broke up." He fixed that gaze on Jim again.
To hear another person speak it aloud… "Yeah."
"Who?"
"Who?" Jim echoed, an eyebrow arched.
"Which of you ended things?"
Jim shifted his gaze to the looming manor, trying his best to keep the memories at bay. Oh, the pleasant times he spent haunting those halls, dodging Bruce and falling into the embrace of the older man he still very much loved. What he wouldn't give…
"Why would Alfred do that?"
Such an intuitive boy.
He shrugged. "The hell if I know." His tongue darted out, licking his lips. "Last time we were together, I thought…" A shake of the head. "He kissed me and while looking me in the eye told me not to come back. Then he left, just left me there in a tangle of blankets, my world turned upside down."
"Do you want me to ask him?"
Alarm sliced through Jim as he turned back to Bruce. "Absolutely not. You will say nothing, you hear me?"
"But-"
"Nothing and that's final," Jim said with enough conviction to end the disagreement before it even truly began. The last thing he wanted was the kid playing around in his love life. "Look, I think you should go back inside before Alfred comes looking for you, and we both know he will."
"Afraid he'll find you here?"
"Bruce."
Bruce threw up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm going." He wrapped his fingers around the door handle, hesitating before stepping back out into the rain. "For what it's worth, I liked you two together. I think you complimented each other, and I can't recall the last time I saw Alfred so happy." With that said Bruce disappeared into the night.
Jim sat there, staring after him, the young man's words echoing in his mind. They were great together, there was simply no denying that, but one thing are away at him.
If I made him so happy why did he push me away?
Jim put the sedan in drive and left Wayne Manor behind.
88888
Alfred swore under his breath, then clenched his jaw. The empty bed in his charge's room was a much too common occurrence. The question now was where Bruce had gotten off to and with whom he was covering in the night. He stalked down the hall doing his best to remain composed, refusing to let panic set in. Just because past experience suggested the potential for trouble didn't mean the risk was there now.
Still, at this rate Bruce was likely to be the death of him.
He made it down to the study, the room Bruce had taken to after the unexpected and shocking murder of his parents, just in time to catch the intrepid boy trying to slip quietly back into the house.
"Bruce."
Bruce jumped at the sound of his voice, whirling around to face him. "Alfred."
He stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, studying the drowned rat leaving a puddle on his perfectly tended hardwood floor. "Might I ask where you're coming from at this late hour?"
"I thought I saw someone lurking outside, figured it might be Selene."
Quick on his feet, but he's lying.
"And?"
"Must have just been shadows disturbed by the storm."
"I'm sure," he relented, knowing sooner or later he'd get to the truth, and even if Bruce continued to be secretive, well, the Manor possessed surveillance and it would be easy enough to real Bruce's movements. "Shall we try the bed thing again?"
"I think I've passed the age that requires a bedtime."
"Perhaps, Master Bruce," countered Alfred, "but you have a full day tomorrow and it's best you be rested up."
He flinched as Bruce left his wet coat on the back of the sofa, then slumped into the chair behind the desk. For a moment, Alfred was jettisoned back in time, standing in the same place, watching as the master of the house leaned over the work spread across the surface of his desk. If it was a nice summer day the doors would be open and usually they could hear Bruce outside. Occasionally, he'd come charging into the room, drawing his dad out into the sunshine with him. Happier times; whoever expected them to end so abruptly?
"Alfred?"
He blinked, the past fading away. "Sir?"
"May I ask you something."
"Of course."
Bruce leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "Tell me, why dis you break up with Jim? I thought you guys were happy."
Normally so composed, Alfred merely stood in shock as he stared at his charge. Falling in love with Jim, it had never been his intention. His world revolves around Bruce, he was the central focus of his day, and looking after Bruce brought him great joy. With the dash of danger and more than an ounce of frustration. Still, it was a fulfilling life. One that brought the dashing James Gordon into his life. The more their paths crossed the more he found he enjoyed Jim's company, always pleased to see the copper. Gotham needed more good men like Jim.
Their first kiss, it happened by chance. He never expected to go d his feelings mirrored in those mesmerizing eyes, and yet he had. He found more than he could have ever hoped for… So how did he tell Bruce that he ended it because of him?
"I don't believe the details of my love life are any of your concern. Now come on, off to bed with ya."
"No, not until you answer me."
"I do not owe you an explanation, Bruce."
"You do when I find Jim hanging around outside my house pining for you."
Alfred blinked. Had he heard Bruce right, Jim had been the one to trip the perimeter alarm? Why had Gotham's finest… No, now was not the time to dwell. He forced down the sorrow and stood straighter, always the perfect butler.
"Off to bed with you, Master Bruce."
"Alfred-"
"There will be no more discussion of this, do you hear me? Now," he pointed to the hall, "get out of those clothes and into bed. We have an early start and I, for one, don't want to deal with trying to get a crabby you out the door."
Somewhat reluctant Bruce stood, crossing the room. He stopped a foot away, the expression on his face unreadable. When he spoke he kept his voice even, his eyes meeting Alfred's. "Whatever it is or was, it can't be more important than love. If living in Gotham has taught me anything it's that we should hold the ones we cherish close. This city is cruel, a heartless bastard of a place, and at any moment it could claim him. You know that as well as I do. So love him, Alfred, if that's what brings you joy. You have my blessing." Without another word Bruce left, headed for his bedroom.
For a moment or two longer Alfred stayed rooted in place, unsure of what to do next. His young master's words resonated with him, touching him deeply, and nearly bringing a tear to his eye. Bruce's parents would have been proud of the man he was shaping up to be, though perhaps this road he walked was because of their passing and with them still around he'd be an entirely different person.
Not likely. He's a good lad, always has been, always will be.
And now he had Bruce's blessing, of all things. If he was up eat with himself, Alfred couldn't pinpoint the exact reason he broke things off with Jim. Was it because he worried how Bruce would handle it, knowing he'd developed a close friendship with the law man? Or could it have been the hectic nature of living on the right side of good and evil in Gotham? While he tried to keep Bruce out of trouble, Jim was always busy chasing quite dangerous criminals.
Maybe he pushed him away out of fear.
How many years had passed since he last trusted another person with his heart?
There had certainly been enough sorrow, to say the least. Perhaps it was time…
88888
A banging that never seemed like it was going to end roused Jim from the fitful slumber he'd fallen into. As planned, he passed out on the couch, the television playing episodes of a show about some teens in Milwaukee. His apartment was otherwise dark and from the sounds of it the storm had moved on. And someone was at his door, rather instant that he answer. As this registered with him the remaining traces of slumber fled him. Jim sat up on the sofa, glaring at the door.
The only people that came 'round this late at night, it's either Harvey or a crook, and Harvey would do more than knock. He'd tell and wake up the whole damn building.
Jim quickly checked his phone which sat on the coffee table, just to see if he'd missed any urgent messages. Nothing. So likely not Harvey, unless he was on a drunken bender or someone forced him to the door at gunpoint. Revolver in hand, Jim crept toward the door, mindful to stay to the side and out of the line of fire. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but living in Gotham did that to a man.
He peered through the peephole, half expecting to see Oswald or Edward, instead he was shocked and pleasantly surprised to find it was Alfred. Jim felt his heart skip a beat as he let the gun fall to his side.
Why is here? What did Bruce say to him?
Jim was torn; did he open the door or did he just let it go, wait until Alfred got the hint and walked away? Oh, how he longed to undo the locks and throw open the door, but once bitten twice shy, as the saying went. What was to keep Alfred from changing his mind and walking away again?
Jim rested his head against the door.
"Jim, please, I know you're in there," Alfred said. "Let me in or I'll let myself in."
Jim's eyebrows shot up, a slight smile on his lips. He set aside the fun and undid the locks, swinging the door open. "Did you just threaten breaking and entering into an officer's house?"
Without replying Alfred crossed the threshold, kicking the door closed with the heel of his show. In quick succession he grabbed Jim, who let out a startled cry, which was snuffed out by Alfred's lips on his, the kiss tender. He felt himself melting under Alfred's touch, experiencing a sense of peace, his body pressed to Alfred's. His heart fluttered and his knees went a little weak.
But all too soon it ended, Alfred pulling back, but only enough for a ghost to pass between them. Jim found himself gazing into those wonderful eyes he loved getting swept away in.
"Wha…why…" He stumbled over his words, unable to form a proper sentence
"Someone fear helped me see what a fool I'm being in walking away from you."
"Bruce."
Alfred nodded once in affirmation. "Who else? The boy has a way of knowing things, and now I see how foolish I was to think this would ever upset him."
"I tried to tell you."
"I know." Alfred sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Can you ever forgive me? Please?" He cleared his throat, a flicker of vulnerability flashing across his face, catching Jim by surprise. "I believe I, uh, love you James Gordon."
To say the words stunned Jim would have been an understatement. When he heard them uttered by Barbra and Lee it filled him with a sense of wonder, but standing there now, having heard the same proclamation by Alfred, it was like being on top of the world, like nothing else in Gotham mattered, the shadows and the monsters lurking within them fading into the background.
"Say it again," he whispered, wanting to make sure his ears hadn't deceived him.
Alfred met his gaze, a hand on the small of his back. "I love you."
"That's what I thought you said." Jim ran his fingers along Alfred's jaw, the older man's stubble pleasantly rough. "It's quite possible I love you, too."
"Then come with me."
Jim blinked. "Huh?"
Alfred slipped his hand into Jim's, tugging him toward the door. "Come with me, spend the rest of tonight by my side."
"I…" Why are you seeking a reason to object? Are you worried about what Harvey and the others will say? Are you scared that your involvement with Alfred with being more trouble to Bruce's door? Oh, but sweetheart, this is Gotham, where no one is guaranteed to see their next breath. Grab the good while you can. "If that's what you wish, it would be my pleasure. I'll stay with you forever, Alfred."