Prompt: Duty

Timeline: Batman Year One. Between the panels circa parts 3 & 4. Jim is still married to Barbara Kean-Gordon. Batman is wanted by the police.

Disclaimer: I don't own.

Thanks to Debbie for the beta!

The Enemy of My Enemy

He had to be dreaming. Lord knew he was tired enough, although falling asleep at the wheel was one more mark against him that he could do without. Lieutenant Jim Gordon should have left the precinct hours earlier, but Flass had unceremoniously dumped a stack of reports eight inches high on his desk at twenty minutes before quitting time. He'd told Jim to file the paperwork before he left for the evening, flashed him an evil smirk, and wheeled out the door accompanied by his cronies. Jim had blocked his ears against their laughter.

He sighed. Barbara wasn't going to be thrilled with him walking in this late. He'd thought to call her, let her know he'd been delayed, but he hadn't been in the mood for her passive-aggressive protests. And, of course, he dreaded that she might ask him whether he was really working late or…

He didn't know whether someone had told her about Sarah, or whether she suspected that there was something going on. He only knew that if she asked him about it point-blank, even though he'd ended that relationship, his guilty conscience would give him away. So, he hadn't called. He'd taken another two hours to finish the reports, and then headed toward home.

At least he started out that way. He was almost out the door when Renny hollered after him that he had to get out to Park Row, that there were two officers trapped in the middle of a gang war, and that there was nobody else to send. Jim closed his eyes. Park Row was at least twenty minutes away. He couldn't believe that he was the only officer available between Gotham Central and Crime Alley. That settled it. Someone out there wanted him to quit the force. They were going to keep hammering at him, piling paperwork and field assignments on top of him until he cracked—or his marriage did. His expression hardened. Over his dead body. Flass, Renny, Loeb, none of them knew him very well if they thought that he was going to give in to these tactics. He sighed and headed for his patrol car. He had a job to do.

As he'd expected, by the time he got to Park Row, the situation was under control—and he was thirty minutes farther from home. Barbara was going to kill him. He thought for a moment. Hadn't he just passed a 24-hour convenience store that had fresh-cut flowers on display? He seemed to recall that he had. Maybe he could salvage something of the situation.

He turned the car around and headed slowly back the way he'd come, scanning the storefronts for the shop in question.

All at once, he stopped. Had he just seen…? It was hard to tell. The alley had been dark. But he was sure he'd seen someone kneeling there. And that someone had appeared to have horns rising from the top of his head. Jim hesitated for a moment. His hand flew to his waist, and patted the comforting handle of his service revolver. Then, he put the car into reverse and drove back the half-block to the alley.

Jim felt a small rush of excitement. He'd been right. It was that Batman character that Loeb was so eager to nail! This… this could cement his position on the force. The vigilante didn't seem to have noticed him.

Slowly, he edged closer.

"I'm sorry," Batman whispered as he placed two red roses carefully on the dusty ground. "You deserved better." He rocked back on his heels, closed his eyes, and tried to remember his parents—not as they looked in the portrait that graced the manor's front hall, nor as they looked in the image that haunted his nightmares, the last time he'd seen them. No, he wanted to picture them living, breathing, loving… and every year, it got a little harder. He could almost… He tensed. He wasn't alone.

Batman leaped to his feet and whirled around, one hand reaching into the pouch on his belt for a batarang.

There was nobody behind him.

Jim gripped the steering wheel of the patrol car until his heart stopped pounding. He had a duty to bring the Batman in, but he also had a duty to protect the city. If he arrested the vigilante, he'd be a hero for a day, a week, maybe—and then the other officers would be back to their old tricks. Or else, he ruminated, they'd find newer, deadlier ones. If they couldn't discredit him, they'd have to try harsher tactics.

The Batman was attacking cops, yes, but so far he was concentrating on the crooked ones.

Gordon knew that he was rationalizing—trying to find a reason why he hadn't made the collar. There were many. But the main one, the one he wouldn't tell anyone at the moment was that from what he'd seen to date, they seemed to be on the same side. And that was more than he could say for the likes of some of his colleagues.

He fingered his badge lightly, remembering the motto. 'To serve and to protect'. Over the course of the last few weeks, the Batman had been doing both. Jim wasn't completely sure about the vigilante, but he couldn't help thinking that if Loeb wanted the man behind bars that badly, it might be in Jim's best interests to have him remain at large.

He gunned the motor and set off in search of the convenience store.