"Non, je ne regrette rien"

He regretted nothing.

The smell of cheap coffee and cigarettes hung in the air. People were buzzing all around him, and he ignored them all. His eyes remained glued to the window—where he could see the heavens unleashing their fury upon Gotham. In his mind, Gotham couldn't take much more. The anarchy of the Joker nearly brought the city to its knees. The people of Gotham almost lost their sanity, and now, they were greeted with a storm for the ages. He hoped that the rain would bring clarity, tranquility, and the much needed cleanliness.

Dent had said that night was darker just before the dawning light. Where was that promised light? He almost smirked. That hope is lying in the morgue. Harvey Dent, a casualty in the Joker's war on Gotham.

His eyes narrowed. His mind flickered to those bastards who hired him. The mafia had been running scared. The Batman had whittled them down to nothing. In their fear, they hired a brilliantly insane man without fully understanding the consequences. Consequences.

He paused and reached for his coffee mug that was filled nearly to the brim. Glancing at his desk full of reports and paperwork, he sighed and returned his gaze to the pouring rain.

His train of thought ruined.

He had lost the most important asset to his work. Everyone had turned on "him". No one knew of Dent's madness. The Dark Knight knew that Gotham needed a face to look to, and it could not be his. Dent had to be the face of hope.

It was wrong but right. He knew he would search for Batman, and he may or may not find him. His primary focus was to restore order that had been lost.

"Hey, Commissioner Gordon, can I have a word?" A raspy bold voice sounded from his door. He knew that voice. Detective Harvey Bullock—the one police officer who truly held a grudge against Batman. His gray suit heaved in its attempt to cover his body. A cigarette held on to his lips for dear life as the detective smirked maliciously.

"What do you need now Bullock?" Gordon asked resignedly keeping his eyes fixed on the angry clouds.

"Thought ya be interested that Roman Sionis is offering to pay for a private detective to join the police in the search for Batman."

It was sharp pain that struck Gordon's frontal lobe. Roman Sionis was one of the few surviving gangsters in Gotham. Unfortunately, Sionis was too damn good at covering his tracks. Falcone had been too blatant with his smuggling ring. Sionis was darkness to Falcone's light. Everything was secret and secure. Every undercover agent had been instantly turned down.

Rumors of torture were whispered about at Gotham City Harbor, but they were just murmurs that rolled in and left with the tides.

It was odd to Gordon that Sionis was so good at this business considering what had happened to his previous business, Janus Cosmetics, which went bankrupt due to poor business choices. The answer was clear to Gordon. We don't let the foxes play in the hen house.

"You were wrong, Bullock. I will never go for that. An outsider coming in to run an investigation? You gotta be kidding me."

"What?! Why?" Bullock bawled in dismay. "This is our shot. We need help Gordon."

"I told you my answer." Gordon stated as he turned to face Bullock. "No more outside help." Bullock lowered his eyes in recognition that Gordon was referring to Batman as well. Bullock knew Gordon took the order for hunting Batman hard, and the surly detective tried his best to catch his Batman slurs before he uttered them. Now, the editing was gone; Gordon was cock-blocking GCPD.

Harvey sighed, "I was just askin' cuz that's what the mayor said he was considering the offer…"

Gordon rose to his feet in anger. "Harvey, get out of my office. I'm not in the mood. Until I get a call from the mayor, it will never happen." He pointed to the squad room that was just outside his door. Bullock muttered, "Fuck you, Batman lover."

Gordon was too tired to retaliate or punish. Sluggishly, he closed the door to his office with the hope that everyone else would get the hint that he wanted to be alone.

Alone.

His mind flashed to when he felt so alone before Batman changed things. The room seemingly went dark. A feeling of calm washed over him; being alone, in the dark, helped him process. He wanted to do what was right, but he felt more alone now than ever before.

"Now we're two." A whisper sounded from behind. Gordon turned abruptly to only see his empty office. "Wishful thinking."

He regretted nothing.

Note: I really enjoyed writing this one shot. :)