By

Gates

He flipped his book shut and placed it on the end table.  Pushing his glasses up he stood and gave a mild stretch.

He remembered his doctor's surprise at his last visit.  First, he was walking without the cane, which vexed the physician greatly.  Jim simply told him that he didn't need it anymore.

Dr. Vallein balked at this until he actually began his examination of the former police commissioner.

"Three gunshots in the back seven months ago and you're walking around as though you just had your appendix out.   A man your age!"

Hmph!  A man his age.  He could toss that young man and his fancy degrees through the nearest window if he'd really wanted to.

Jim Gordon had always made it a point to stay fairly healthy and in shape.  It helped him in his everyday work as a police officer, it kept Barbara from worrying about his eating habits… and… Sarah… his late wife… rather liked him to be somewhat physically healthy.

After the shooting, he'd been told that his good state of health would greatly aid in his recovery, but that there would be limits.  He would never be back to where he was… Not a man *his age*.

Someone else thought differently.

Someone who knew him well enough to know he wouldn't settle for that.

Someone who cared enough about him to leave a stack of several books and manuals on eastern exercise and yoga on his backdoor step, fully hand translated into English, personal notes in the margins and a small letter tucked under one of the covers.

'Western science doesn't know everything.' The letter had said.  'These will help you.  –B.'

And they had.  He'd been sceptical at first, these exercises and stretches seemed so… foreign.  But then he'd considered the source.  Was there anyone else who knew more about the potential for movement in the human body?  Were there many people he trusted more?

The results spoke for themselves.

Truthfully he *wasn't* back to where he had been before the shooting (yet). But he had gone miles farther than anyone thought he'd be able to.  He'd been told that he would need that blasted cane for the rest of his life.

He'd stopped using it six weeks ago.

Pain?  Stiff and dull on his insides.  It was bearable.  Mild.  Especially when combined with his medication and certain herbal teas that Barbara had recommended.

All in all, he'd have to say he felt… good.

He felt good.

Jim had just poured himself a cup of coffee, (It *was* late, but old habits die hard.) when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  Smiling, he took another cup down from the cupboard and poured a second helping.

He made his way out into his backyard, placing one cup on the patio table partially covered by shadows.  Jim himself took a seat on a stone bench.

"Thanks." Came a voice from the darkness as a hand emerged from the shadows to pick retrieve hot drink.

"You're welcome."  Jim said.  "Long time no see."

"Work."  Came the non-caporal voice.

Jim nodded in understanding.  He was somewhat surprised when his friend spoke next.  The man was not one to initiate casual conversation.

"I see the exercises are working."

"Better than expected.  Guess I should thank you for that."

"Just trying to help."

Jim smiled.

"Things okay on your end?  I heard on the news that Nightwing was *suspected* to be involved in bringing down that 40 million dollar drug shipment down in Bludhaven.  You must be proud."

"He's making a difference."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"How have *you* been?"

"Good.  I'm good.  Had breakfast with Barbara yesterday.  It's one of those rare moments she makes time for the old man."

"She loves you, Jim."

"Oh, I know that.  Just like to see her more often is all.  Then again, I don't begrudge her, her life.  I'm glad she's happy.  In fact," he said taking a swig of his coffee. "she told me she's dating someone."

"Really."

"You know Dick Grayson?"

"Bruce Wayne's former ward." The shadow said without missing a beat.

"Actually, from what Barbara tells me, he's more than that now.  Wayne adopted him last month."

A pair of glowing white eye-slits (the only part of him that was visible) seemed to nod in acknowledgement of the news.

"Guess that means Wayne's more like everyone else than he appears to be.  He love his kid and wants everyone to know it."  Jim took another gulp.

"Anyway.  Barbara and Dick are apparently a very tight item right now.  The "L" word popped up more than once in her conversation."

"Do you approve?"

Jim appeared pensive for a moment.  "Grayson's a good kid." He said nodding slightly.  "I'll admit, I'd rather he were a cop here in Gotham, rather than that rat-hole he's in now, but Barbara says he's trying to …*make a difference*…"  He smiled up at the shadow.  "…As a good cop." He continued after a pause.  "He's trying to clean up the system from the inside out."

"Sounds like a certain Lieutenant I once knew."  The shadows said.

Gordon nodded.  "If that's true, he's got his work cut out from him."  He frowned just then.

"He'd just *better not* make the same mistake I did."

"Mistake?"

"I was so consumed with cleaning up the department, I let my home life go to seed... My wife, my son…  I like Grayson, but if he hurts my daughter…"

"I understand."

"Then again," Jim continued, his mood lightening. "From what I know of the lad, he's a lot more on the ball than I was at that age.  Despite what people say about his *father*, he must have done something right to bring up such a fine young man."  He looked poignantly at the shadows.  "Know what I mean?"

There was no response.

"I approve." Jim said slowly standing up.  "But if he breaks my little girl's heart, I'm taking him out.  I don't care *who* he is."

"Understandable."

Gordon looked at his watch.

"Well, I'm going in.  There's a late movie on I wanted to watch.  Care to join me?" he asked, an amused eyebrow raised.

"Maybe next time."

"Door's always open."

"Thanks for the coffee." The shadows said, and Jim saw the now empty cup sitting on the table, (although he hadn't seen when it had gotten there).

"It's not as bad as what they make at the station, but I try."

Jim wasn't sure but he thought he heard quiet chuckle.

"I know you work late hours, but I'm up late.  Don't be such a stranger." He said picking up the cup.

"I'll try."

"Take care my friend."  Jim said walking back into the house.

"And you my friend." Came a quiet response that Jim didn't hear.

The large shadow hopped over the high brick wall and into the dark Gotham night.

The End.

Gates – [email protected]

"The Why Of Any Situation Is Secondary To The Situation Itself." – Old Askani Saying.