Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by DC Comics, various publishers, and Warner Bros., Inc. Any other owners, licensees, or those legally attached to the Batman name, image, etc. of whom the author is unaware are included in this disclaimer although not mentioned by name. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This story is based on characters and characterizations depicted in the Nolan version of the Batman universe. I am not well versed in the original, comic book depiction or any of its characters. Due to this, "Priorities" will largely be AU in content, although some second-hand detail may tie in loosely with comic book canon.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Chapter 6 – Trials of Many Kinds

On Monday morning, Jim settled into his office chair and pulled toward him the file he had abandoned Friday evening. As he did so, he smiled, remembering the weekend that had begun with Barbara's surprise visit. True to his word, Jim had spent the entirety of both days with his family; no Kevlar-clad Dark Knight or demanding city official had interrupted them. Jim's mind traveled back over the weekend – from lingering in bed with Barbara until noon on Saturday (a luxury he could definitely get used to!), to picking up two very surprised children at Barbara's sister's home, to a family cook out at the lake on Sunday, it was a relaxing time. Problem was – it left Gotham's Police Commissioner longing for more. Jim sighed, remembering the words he'd said to Barbara so many times. Yes, the time he spent away from them all now meant that Gotham would, hopefully, be safer more quickly. Jim could then afford to work more "normal" hours. He shook his head, smiling ruefully. I'm beginning to understand how she feels every time she has to listen to that speech, he thought to himself.

"You look pleased with yourself this morning," a female voice cut into his thoughts.

Jim looked up to see Diana Garibaldi standing in the doorway, briefcase in one hand and a cardboard carrying tray bearing two cups of coffee in the other. He rose and crossed the room to take the tray from her.

"It would be a shame to spill any of this," he said, smiling.

"Mmm, an outright tragedy," Diana replied, following him to his desk. She dropped her briefcase into one of the guest chairs then shrugged out of her trench coat.

Jim handed her one of the two paper cups and took her coat. "Sit down. I'll just hang this up," he said.

Once they were seated, Jim spoke, "So, the trial date has been moved up to Friday. How did you get Judge Sporelli to agree to that?"

Diana shrugged. "I hinted that I would certainly hate to be the person who held up the potential conviction of some of Gotham's more pervasive criminal element." The D.A. paused, studying one long, red fingernail before continuing, "Particularly as it's an election year."

Jim snorted in amusement. "You're lucky it didn't go the other way; Sporelli doesn't like being one-upped, particularly on her own turf!"

"Well, I said it with a great deal of professional charm," Diana replied with a smirk. "And … I find that people can overlook being trumped if there's something in it for them. Clearly, if her job was on the line, there was something in it for her!"

Jim listened, a thoughtful look on his face. "So, everyone has an angle, is that it?"

Diana nodded. "I generally find that to be true."

Jim nodded, leaning forward in his chair. "So, what's your angle?"

Diana's posture stiffened and her face flooded with color at the question. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you come to Gotham? Clearly, there's no lack of crime in Chicago," he reasoned, watching her carefully. "Why take a temporary position here, of all places?"

Think fast, Diana thought to herself. She leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to relax as she crossed one long leg over the other. "I've started to re-think my own career, Jim," she said carefully. "I've been in Chicago for a long time – longer than I'd originally planned. There have been some changes in the Prosecutor's office and I'm not so sure I care for the new structure. This opportunity gives me the chance to test the waters a bit; try some interesting cases and figure out my next move." There. Best to stay vague, but give enough information to satisfy.

"Considering a move to Gotham?" Jim asked, half in jest. Permanent residence in Gotham would not be received well at home.

Diana decided to have a bit of fun now that Jim seemed to have accepted her story at face value. "I'm really open to anything," she replied. "Gotham City isn't quite the speck on the map that it once was. A sharp prosecutor could really do very well here – perhaps even rise to the bench one day. Sporelli did, after all. She really was one of Gotham's pioneers for women in public office."

"Yes, she's very well respected," Jim agreed, wondering if Diana was serious about leaving Chicago. She had to have done well there or Garcia wouldn't have taken her on here. "Have you tipped Garcia off to the fact you'd consider a nomination to the DA's position? It is an election year, after all." He tossed her own comment back at her to see if she'd grab it.

Diana smiled to herself. Still so transparent; so predictable. My job might be easier than I dreamed it would be. "I thought I'd get a few convictions under my belt before I explored the idea. And, of course, I won't get any convictions until I actually try a case, and…"

"You won't try a case until it's prepped," Jim finished. "I get it, Counselor. Let's get to work." He pulled the Carlo Gia file toward him. "This is Friday's case. I'm afraid I've just opened it; I finished the Dante file late last week."

Diana hid her sigh of relief behind what she hoped Jim thought was a wry chuckle. "And you didn't pack up this one to take home with you for the weekend? That doesn't sound like the Jim Gordon I remember from the old days." He hadn't read the file yet; this certainly made the switch between this and the doctored folder much more compelling – and less of a risk … but how to accomplish it?

"I had other plans this weekend," he said. And I'm just as anxious as you are to rid this city of some of the garbage that's infested it over the past couple of years.

"Lovely," Diana was saying as she leaned forward to put her coffee cup back on Jim's desk. Unfortunately, she did not slide the cup completely onto the desk and as she withdrew her hand to turn toward her briefcase, it shifted, spilling the hot contents over a corner of Jim's desk and onto the floor. "Oh, no," she said, rising quickly and dabbing at the splatters on her skirt. "How clumsy! I'm so sorry," Diana watched out of the corner of her eye as Jim leapt from his seat and quickly came around the desk to retrieve some of the napkins from the package Barbara had brought with her on Friday evening. When his back was turned, she quickly grabbed the Gia folder from his desk while deftly reaching into her briefcase for the altered file. She slipped the original into her case and slid the front cover of the new one under the desk corner still dripping with coffee. As Jim turned back, she was dabbing the cover of the folder with a tissue. "What a klutz," Diana said, looking up at him. "I am sorry."

Jim shook his head, mopping up his desk and then squatting down to blot the carpet. "Don't worry about it. No permanent damage done." He stood up and gestured toward the folder. "Is the file ok?"

Diana nodded. "Yes, I don't believe it was close enough to pick up anything but splatters on the cover," she said to him, making a show of looking through the documents. "It's fine."

Jim excused himself and stepped outside to ask Clare to leave a note for the cleaners, explaining what had happened and asking them to do a more thorough cleaning that evening. When he returned, Diana had the folder propped up on her side of his desk and her notepad and pen ready to go. "Shall we begin?" she asked. At his nod, she waited for him to settle before continuing.

"Before we start really digging into the testimony we need, let's just refresh for a minute. Carlo Gia is responsible for about half of all the drug trafficking trade in and out of Gotham, which makes his conviction particularly compelling. What makes it particularly challenging is the fact that he appears to be operating separately from any of the major crime families on the East Coast."

Jim nodded. "We won't be gaining multiple convictions on this one," he affirmed.

Diana continued. "No. Originally, we thought he might have had connections with one of the Chicago syndicates, but we were wrong. We contacted the Feds who were already following the money trail; that's not the piece of testimony you'll be dealing with. I'll be calling you to detail the entire undercover sting operation Major Crimes put in place."

"I've heard rumblings about your 'non-existent' Chicago syndicate connection," Jim said quietly. "It's my understanding that the Feds weren't so sure that Gia wasn't connected, somehow, to one of the Chicago crime families."

Diana felt her heart rate pick up at Jim's comment. So, the newly installed Commissioner had connections, did he? She wondered briefly if Jim's sources were better placed or – God forbid – higher up the food chain than were her own. "Well, I wouldn't put much faith in 'rumblings', Jim. You should know better than to take rumors seriously." There. Just the right mixture of skepticism and dismissal.

Jim shook his head. "I'm not one to believe idle gossip; you should know that," he paused when Diana's head lifted at his comment and she stared at him. "But if you think about it, this particular story has some degree of plausibility. A year or so ago, Gia was a small time operator. He was a dealer – a lone wolf. He was slippery as hell and any time we arrested him, it was for penny-ante possession. He made bail, pled guilty, did a couple of months – if any time at all – and was back out on the streets. Then, all of a sudden, he's big-time. He's got half of the heroin trade in and out of Gotham and absolutely no cash could be traced to him. Yeah, the Feds are following the money, but they can't seem to tie it into anyone here. All roads lead out of Gotham."

Diana could feel her skin become clammy as she listened. She had been out of touch with Jim for a long time. He had been a good detective when they were both working in Chicago; she wished she could read him as easily now as she did then. How much did he actually know, she wondered to herself. Are you just casting your line to see what you might catch, Commissioner? "Well, I don't think we can really afford to speculate on where the roads lead to, do you? Gia goes on trial on Friday and we need to prepare for the case we have, not the case we think the Feds might be developing. Your sting put Gia at the scene of a significant heroin shipment. At the docks. On the evening it was received. He didn't send anyone to take possession of it. Gia did it himself. Focus on that, because that's what's going to get us our conviction."

Jim's eyebrows rose in surprise at the vehemence of her response. What was happening here? "Diana, think about it. Gia was never the guy up front in anything this big. He started out as a small-time drug dealer and handled the front-end business himself until he got bigger. Once that happened, he went behind the scenes; he started to put together his own organization. When we hit the docks that night, we expected to collar some of his soldiers, but nothing more than that. Instead, we got him. He was alone, but maybe it wasn't by choice. Maybe he is taking orders from someone else. You said it yourself, 'all roads lead out of Gotham'. Diana, if we can show where the roads lead to, this has the potential to lead to significant arrests. Listen, it might make some sense to pitch a deal to Gia's lawyer – in exchange for information and testimony about his connections. We could deal a lasting blow to the drug trade in Gotham and…"

Diana closed the file, capped her pen and placed both in her briefcase, her movements deliberate. She was grateful that Jim seemed stunned by her actions; it probably meant he had missed how badly her hands were shaking. You're better than I gave you credit for, Jim, she thought to herself. But I'm calling the shots here.

"Diana? What are you…"

"We have a trial to prepare; a complex trial. Your testimony is critical to our ability to convict this bastard. When you can pull your head out of your ass and are ready to seriously prepare for your appearance in court, you call me. If I don't hear from you by end of day tomorrow, I'll have no choice but to ask Garcia to intervene. I have no time for this, Jim. We have a solid case against Gia for receipt and intent to sell heroin – a lot of it - enough to send him away for a very long time." Diana turned and crossed the room, heading for the door.

"Diana, wait!" Jim was on his feet when Diana stopped but did not turn around. When he reached her, she still refused to look at him, anger rolling off her in waves. Jim grasped her arm. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Diana shook off his hand. "Let go of me," she replied, her voice rising as she finally turned to face him. "I am sick and tired of being second-guessed," she continued. "You would do well to remember who is in charge here, Commissioner. I am the interim D.A. You are a cop – a highly placed cop, but a cop, nonetheless. Cases will be prosecuted according to what I deem to be the best plan. I will not tolerate interference – from you or anyone else. The investigation into Carlo Gia has been completed, he's been arrested and he's due to stand trial on Friday. You are not authorized to do anything further with my case, Commissioner. Your last task in connection with Carlo Gia will be your testimony in open court."

Jim felt confusion turn to anger as he listened to the now irate woman before him. When she finally finished speaking, there was a moment of silence before he replied. "The last time I checked, Counselor, Mayor Garcia called the shots in this city. I take my orders from him." Jim paused. "And so do you. So let's stop the grandstanding, all right? I also think – as you used to – that if there are questionable areas in a case that can't be answered, there might be more than meets the eye. And yes, I would very much like to pursue those questionable areas to see what other arrests might be possible. For now, however, I am willing to simply consider it a plausible theory that Gia's attorney might very easily throw into his cross-examination. If he can discredit us to find some loophole for his client, he will do it. Let's keep it in mind as we prepare for trial, shall we?"

Diana stood there, breathing heavily, unwilling to concede her rage in the face of Jim's own anger. Her anger was a strong façade that covered her nerves. Despite his words, Jim had done nothing to alleviate her suspicion that he could very well know more about Gia's connections than he let on. Cursing him – and herself – silently, Diana decided to return to the task at hand. If she could keep up appearances and control herself, perhaps Jim might put her fears to rest or reveal the source of his comments about Gia's connections. That information would be vital to the Colletti's – and would only more firmly secure her own future with them.

"Fine," she said, turning back to her chair. "Let's keep it in mind. But no more talking in circles. We prepare for trial. If you know something that would potentially give us a problem in court, you tell me – and you give me details so that I can be ready for it. I hate surprises. Agreed?"

Jim stared at the back of her head for a moment, lost in thought. When he did not immediately respond, Diana turned toward him. "Are we agreed?" she asked again.

Jim shook himself from his thoughts and nodded as he made his way back to his desk. As he reclaimed his chair he spoke. "Agreed."

XXXXXXXX

At 6 pm, Jim threw his glasses on his desk and rubbed at his eyes, tiredly. He and Diana had worked a full day and had, finally, finished prepping his testimony. She had taken a list of follow-up items with her; they wouldn't meet again until Wednesday to allow her to do the crosschecking she needed to resolve them. Wednesday would be devoted to preparing as best they could for Gia's lawyer's cross-examination. Jim could only hope Wednesday wasn't as fractious as today had been.

"You rang, Boss?" Gerry Stephens' casual greeting rang through Jim's office, affirming the new Commissioner's decision to maintain his office at the refurbished Major Crimes Unit instead of moving into the more plush surroundings at City Hall. He would miss the bustle at MCU, that went without saying. He would, however, also miss his friend.

Jim smiled and replaced his glasses. "Got a minute?"

Gerry sat down in the chair so recently vacated by the interim D.A. He sniffed the air, his face screwing up in disgust. "Barbara know you're wearing her cologne?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Very funny. The D. A. was here all day."

Gerry nodded. "Must be. You know, Jimmy, we didn't have these problems with Dent. I sort of miss him, you know?" His eyes twinkled.

Jim chuckled. "Gerry, I need to ask something of you and it needs to stay between us, ok?"

Gerry instantly sobered. "Anything, Jim. You know that. What's up?"

"Carlo Gia. You know the case as well as I do."

Gerry nodded. "One of our best operations. Wait – don't tell me the case is going south after all that work?"

Jim shook his head. "No, it's fine. The trial starts on Friday."

"Then what's the problem?"

Jim took a deep breath. "I want you to think back. Is there anything about Gia that stands out to you as odd?"

Gerry sat back in his chair and was silent for several long moments. Finally, his eyes met Jim's. "Yeah, there is, as a matter of fact. There's something that's been sort of bothering me since he made bail."

Jim lifted his chin as an indication that the detective should continue.

"What's a dealer like Gia doing taking his own deliveries? Where were the soldiers? The buffers?"

Jim nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Where the hell's the money?"

"Been asking myself the same question."

"The D.A. have any ideas?" Gerry wanted to know.

Jim shook his head, his brow furrowing. "Doesn't seem to. In fact, she damn near took my head off for suggesting that the Feds just might have been wrong about the money trail."

It was Gerry's turn to look confused. "But wouldn't tracking the money to someone else help fill her conviction quota? If she could tie Gia to some bigger operation, she could get her hooks into some pretty big fish."

"Yeah, you'd have thought so, wouldn't you? She told me that I needed to 'get my head out of my ass' and focus on the case we had instead of the case the Feds might be putting together," Jim smiled wryly at his friend.

"Want me to look into it?" Gerry offered.

Jim nodded, handing Gerry the Gia file. "Quietly and without sticking your neck out too far. We've got the same connections you and I. Pay them a few visits. No pressure, nothing hard-core. Let's just see what we can turn up without breaking a sweat, ok?"

"Ok, Boss. I'll get working on it tomorrow," Gerry rose from his seat. "Wanna grab a beer before heading home?"

Jim shook his head. "I'll take a rain check, though. If I hurry, I can make it home for dinner."

Gerry smiled. "I get it. Janie won't know what to do with herself if I actually show up for dinner!" The two men shared another smile before Gerry turned serious again. "You know something, Jimmy? Showing up on your doorstep and having to tell that woman that you'd been killed was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I knew why you were doing it, but even I was pissed off at you when I saw her face. I'm glad you're taking the time away from here to be with her – and the kids. When I finally made it home that night, Janie told me that it's never going to be perfect here in Gotham. If we wait to spend time with our families until it is, we cheat them – and ourselves. All they'll have left is the flag and the pension; no memories of us to look back on. "

Jim squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Smart wife you've got there," he said quietly. "For the record, I hated doing that to her – and to the kids. But I just couldn't…"

"…take any chances with their safety. Yeah, I know. In your shoes, I'd probably have done the same thing. Still stinks, though. What it does to them."

Jim nodded. "Come on. Let's go home and shock the hell out of them. While we can. Before all hell breaks loose and we can't do it for weeks at a time."

"Whatever you say, Jimmy. You're the boss," Gerry agreed, grinning as the two friends walked toward the open office door and crossed to the elevators.

XXXXXXXX

As Diana reached the door to her townhouse, she heard the phone begin to ring on the other side. Hurrying, she unlocked the door, withdrew her key and slammed it shut behind her. Kicking off her heels, she hurried to the phone, picking it up and murmuring a breathless 'hello' into the mouthpiece.

"I was just about to hang up," Marco's deep voice came through the phone.

Diana took a deep breath. "I'm glad you didn't," she managed, settling herself on the sofa. "How was your flight?"

"Lonely," he replied. "How was your day?"

Diana knew what he meant. "Productive. I was a bit clumsy with a cup of coffee in Gordon's office this morning."

Marco chortled in her ear. "Any casualties?"

"You might say that. I had to pull a fresh file from my briefcase for the Commissioner's perusal."

"Did he see anything?" All traces of humor were gone from the man's voice.

Diana sighed. "No, Marco. I made the switch while he was mopping up the carpet. He hadn't even opened up the file."

"That's my girl," Diana could hear Marco's smirk in his voice. "Dad will be very pleased that things are going so well for us."

Diana smiled. That's right; you keep Colletti, Sr. happy, Marco, while I make sure Jim Gordon stays in line … and out of things that don't concern him.

"You still there, doll?"

"Yes, I'm still here. It's been a long day and I still have a couple of hours of work ahead of me tonight," she replied. "I'll talk with you Friday night, after the trial opens, ok?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Marco said. "I don't suppose there's any way you'd let me come up there this weekend. You know, give you a couple days of stress relief?"

Diana rolled her eyes. "Well, that depends. Do you want Gia convicted? I can't afford any distractions, Marco. I'll need to work through the weekend. Remember what your father said: Gia's become a liability. A conviction works for all of us, doesn't it?"

Marco sighed. "Yeah, ok. I see your point. I'll stay put this weekend."

"Marco, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, baby. What do you want?"

"Anthony Morello. Is he out of the picture now?" Diana tapped her finger on the arm of the sofa as she waited for his answer. Tell me he's safe somewhere. Tell me he's not easily accessible to anyone. Diana was still not convinced that Gordon wasn't connected enough to have found out about him.

"Why are you asking?" Marco sounded suspicious.

"No particular reason. You have been so concerned about him being linked to this case. I knew you were having a problem locating him so I just naturally wondered if you'd found him." If Gordon knows anything, Morello needs to be out of the way for a while. Diana had no doubt that if Jim found the man, he'd turn him.

Marco's grim chuckle preceded his response. "Yeah, we found him. Don't worry about a thing, baby; no one's going to bother him. He's safe – from everyone."

Diana shivered, suddenly wanting to end the conversation. "Well, then. I guess I won't worry, will I?" She was surprised at the calm in her voice.

"Nah, no point. Good luck on Friday. I'll tell Dad that we're on track; Gia's as good as convicted."

You do that, Diana thought to herself as she pressed the 'off' button on the handset.

XXXXXXXX

Jim pulled into the driveway to the familiar sight of Maggie sitting on the top step of the porch. What wasn't familiar was the notable absence of Maggie's usual exuberance. She just sat - elbows on her knees, her chin resting in her small hands. Jim ran his eyes over the small form of his daughter and noticed nothing visibly, physically wrong.

Approaching the steps, he called out to her. "Hey, Maggie-mine. Not going to make me catch you tonight? No twirling?" He put his briefcase on the lower step as he waited to see if she'd change her mind.

The little girl shook her head sadly. "I don't feel like twirling tonight, Daddy."

Jim picked up his briefcase and climbed the steps. Once he'd reached where she sat, he pushed the briefcase against the railing and sat down beside his daughter. "Hmm. I don't think you've ever not felt like twirling. What's up, sweetheart?"

To his chagrin, a fat tear rolled down the little girl's pink cheek and splashed against her fingers. "My friend, Anna Maria, moved away," she sniffed.

Jim leaned over and put his arm around her shoulders and Maggie responded by crawling onto his lap. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Maggie. It's hard when our friends go away. But you can write letters to each other maybe. And talk on the phone sometime, couldn't you?" At this, Maggie cried harder, so Jim just held her tightly to him and let her get it out of her system. After a few minutes, she pulled back and looked at him and Jim's heart went out to her as he saw her pink eyes and the tear tracks that were drying on her face. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and mopped her face gently, then held it to her nose. "Blow," he said quietly and she did so. "There. Now, tell me the rest," he urged.

Maggie took a deep breath. "I can't write to her and I can't call her. She can't tell me where she's going. Her mommy won't let her. They're just moving away." With that, she leaned her face against his chest again and Jim rubbed her back for a few minutes more. As they sat together, he wracked his brain to try to remember if Barbara had mentioned this little girl to him at all. He sighed. If she had, he didn't recall.

"Come on, Maggie-mine. Let's go inside and see what Mommy has for supper, ok? Then, maybe we can figure something out."

Maggie nodded and stood next to him on the step. Jim rose, picked her up and leaned down to gather his briefcase and raincoat from the floor. He smiled when he felt his daughter kiss his cheek. "I love you, Daddy," she said.

"I love you, too," he replied, turning to tickle her neck with his mustache. This part of the routine is still intact tonight, he mused, smiling again.

Once inside, he greeted his son and made his way into the kitchen.

"Hey, Commissioner," Barbara greeted him, giving him a quick hug and kiss. She stepped back and looked down at his tie. "I'm going to guess that you either met your very soggy daughter on the front porch or you've started drooling in your old age."

Jim smacked her behind lightly. " 'Old age,' huh? You weren't complaining about my age this weekend," he said, kissing her lightly.

Barbara laughed softly. "I wasn't complaining about too much this weekend. It was fabulous. Two whole days," she sighed. "I could get used to it."

Jim nodded. "Me, too. Listen, what's going on with Maggie and this friend of hers, Ann – Annie…"

"Anna Maria," Barbara supplied. At Jim's nod, she continued. "They had their weekly play date and today it was here. They'd been drawing pictures for about a half hour when the doorbell rang and Anna Maria's mother was standing there, saying that she was here to pick her up. She said that they were moving away. I asked for her address and she became very agitated, saying she wasn't sure – then that she couldn't tell me. It was all very strange. She spoke with her daughter for a few minutes. The little girl was very upset, understandably, but she went along with her mother without a great deal of fuss. Maggie told me afterward that Anna Maria had told her that she couldn't give her a new address or phone number."

Jim shook his head. "Do I know this family? Have I met them?"

Barbara had turned back to the stove to check on dinner. "Umm, I don't think so. They haven't been here very long, but the little girls became attached pretty quickly. Sweet little thing. I'm not sure what the father does. He's out of town a lot."

"What's the name?" Jim called from the hallway, opening the closet door and grabbing a hanger for his coat. His hand froze in mid-air when Barbara's voice called back to him.

"Morello."