Title: Criminal Acts (20/21)
Author: StargazerNataku
Rating: G
Genre: Drama
Characters: Detective Gerry Stephens, Renee Montoya, Jim Gordon, Batman
Summary: Even after twenty years in the Gotham City police department and there were some cases that never got easier. It began with an overdose…and ended in major changes.

Author's Note: This is essentially the last chapter. There will be an epilogue to act as a bridge between this story and in the sequel, which is currently in planning stages, but I cannot bridge two stories if I'm not 100% sure what the details of the coming work are. Within the next few weeks I am hoping to post both the epilogue to this story, and the prologue to the next (which actually IS written) so that anyone who wishes to can sign up to follow the sequel can do so easily. I hope some of you will. Thank you for reading with me thus far!

Chapter 20

It was much earlier than Bruce Wayne usually got himself out of bed when the alarm clock rang three hours after he had fallen asleep. He rose and stepped into the shower, taking more time than he usually did, making sure his hair was immaculately styled, every trace of stubble eradicated from his chin, and just the right amount of expensive cologne applied. When he came out of the bathroom, Alfred had, despite the hour, put his morning's breakfast on the table in front of the windows. He went to the coffee first without taking the time to luxuriate in the first sip as he usually did. In a businesslike manner he ate the toast and fruit, finished the coffee, and rose again to dress. Bruce Wayne, the offended prince of Gotham, had important matters to manage.

He dressed slowly, careful not to wrinkle the fabric of his suit, making sure his dress shirt was tucked into his pants exactly evenly before sitting to put on silk knit socks and perfectly shined and polished dress shoes. After, he rose and put on a dark red silk tie, again making sure it was perfectly knotted and resting against the pure whiteness of the dress shirt. Then he put in the diamond-studded cufflinks whose worth equaled what a normal person would make in six months and, with Alfred's help, shrugged into the matching black suit jacket, making sure that the cufflinks were visible below the jacket's cuffs. Only then did he turn to study himself in the mirror.

From head to toe his outfit screamed wealth and power. There were no wrinkles, no threads out of place to mar the image and Bruce nodded his approval. "I think this will do," he commented. "Thank you, Alfred."

"Indeed, sir," he said. "You'll be wanting the car right away, I expect?"

"Yes, Alfred. The mayor needs to understand just how...displeased...I am, and the earlier I arrive the better. The whole city knows that Bruce Wayne never appears before noon, and even noon is pushing it. If I show up in the Mayor's office at eight, it will make an impression."

"I'll bring it around then. If Bruce Wayne," he said wryly as he picked up the breakfast tray. "Would come downstairs in a minute, we'll be ready to leave."

"Thanks." He studied himself in the mirror for another minute before crossing the room to put on his custom Rolex, satisfied he would make the impression he wished to make. Crossing the bedroom, he made his way out through the penthouse's living room and pressed the button for the elevator. It took him down to the first floor, where Alfred was already holding open the door to the Rolls Royce.

The ride through the streets took some extra time as the morning commute was well underway for Gotham's millions. Bruce watched the world go by outside the window in silence as Alfred drove slowly down the packed streets, occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror to study his charge. "You can stop worrying, Alfred," Bruce commented after the man had done so several times. "Besides, you're the one who told me to do what I thought was right."

"Yes, sir, I did." They were silent for another long moment.

"And yet I sense a distinct note of disapproval," Bruce finally ventured.

"I have no opinion, of course, Master Bruce," Alfred answered, to which Bruce replied with a scoff.

"You, Alfred? No opinion? Impossible." He glanced up at his butler, and made a mental note not to ever introduce the man to Jim Gordon if he could help it. He recognized too many of Batman's little tricks, including pregnant pauses which spoke the volumes the butler would not voice, at least not aloud. They usually worked. "The mayor is making a huge mistake, you know that as well as I do. Things will get worse without Gordon around to run things. I won't keep quiet, not on this one. And it's well within my right, the man saved my life two months ago and very nearly died himself. Even airhead Bruce Wayne would realize that."

"I'm not sure which is worse," Alfred remarked as he executed a smooth turn. "You referring to yourself in the third person or you speaking of yourself as an 'airhead.'"

"All part of the smoke screen, Alfred. You know that."

"Yes sir. But, may I ask, what will you do if the mayor is...resistant?"

"I have backup plans. I brought Gordon this far, and I'm not going to let him suffer for it, no matter what choices he claims brought him to it." He glanced out the window again. "It was both of us, he's right, but I've got more power than he does right now to fix the fallout. Even if he doesn't know that."

"Very well, sir," he said as the car moved effortlessly into one of the open spots in front of city hall. "Shall I wait, sir?"

"If you could, Alfred. This shouldn't take long." He double checked his tie was straight as Alfred got out of the car and walked around to open the passenger door. Once he had, Bruce rose and carefully got himself out of the car, straightening his suit coat as he did so. "Thank you," he said, moving towards the building with purpose, already aware that people were staring at him unabashedly. He took that calmly, taking the stairs at a brisk, purposeful pace before entering the foyer and striding across it towards the next set of stairs as though he owned the building. Down a long hall and he was there, opening the door to the office outside the mayor's.

Garcia's secretary, just settling her own coat onto the rack in the corner, looked at him in barely contained surprise. "Mr. Wayne?" she said, the question layered with surprise in such a way that he knew it had come out without thinking.

"Is the mayor in yet?" he asked, making the demand clear in his voice.

"Wh...no, sir, he hasn't arrived yet. He let me know he's running late this morning. I'm expecting him shortly, though. Perhaps ten, fifteen minutes."

"I'll wait," Bruce informed her without waiting for her to ask.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm afraid the Mayor is in meetings this morning...Can I schedule an appointment for you?"

"No," he answered firmly. "Garcia can be late to the office, he can be a few minutes late to the meeting. I'll wait." He met and held her gaze. In her eyes he could see her nervousness, knew that she was wary of offending the mayor's biggest campaign contributor while at the same time terrified of what her boss would say. Her fear of him won out after a moment, however, and she inclined her head in agreement.

"Would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?" she asked.

"No, thank you," he answered firmly. "I'll wait in his office." He strode to the door, saw her start and then silence a protest in the time it took to cross the room, before opening the door and shutting it with finality behind him.

He stepped across the room to the windows behind the Mayor's desk, looking out over the river and the rest of downtown, not taking a seat to avoid wrinkling his carefully crafted costume for the day. He stood there watching, waiting, for nearly thirty minutes by the careful time kept in his mind, before he heard the outer door opening again and the still baffled secretary greeting the mayor. Words he could not make out came through the door, and he turned as Garcia opened the door to his office and stepped through, his coat hanging open above a suit that could never be as impeccable as Bruce's. "Mr. Wayne," the man said with a smile, the irritation hidden more deeply in his eyes where playboy-Bruce would never see it. "Good morning. To what do I owe the pleasure this early?"

"I had some news I didn't much like," Bruce said, keeping a hint of his carefully maintained cluelessness about his eyes and in the lines on his face. "No, I didn't much like it at all. Is it true you fired the commissioner?"

"How...Mr. Wayne," Garcia said. "I didn't think that news had gone public yet. I had hoped..."

"That no one would hear it before you had a replacement announced, from what I'm told. Why on Earth would you fire someone like him?"

"Well, Mr. Wayne," Garcia said, removing his coat and hanging it on the hat rack in the corner, "I'm afraid there's been some question as to the commissioner's...dedication to the people of this city."

"How can you possibly doubt that?" Bruce demanded, just the right amount of disbelief flowing into his voice. "That man took a bullet that could have had my name on it a few weeks ago, and very nearly gets killed, and you doubt his sincerity? I may not know much, Mr. Mayor, but I know that reeks of stupid."

"Won't you have a seat?" the mayor said calmly. "Can't I get you a cup of coffee?"

"No," Bruce answered, throwing in confusion with a hint of petulant child. "I want to know why you'd be so stupid as to fire the only man in decades who actually gives a shit about Gotham."

"He was accused of being in league with the Batman, Mr. Wayne. Surely we can both agree that that is a rather damning accusation, despite what else he has done. If you remember correctly, the man saved my life as well."

"In league with the Batman? Isn't Batman a murderer?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne, that is what they say. Do you really want someone working with a murderous vigilante in charge of this city's police department?"

"I refuse to believe it," Bruce answered firmly. "Who accused him of this? One of his men?"

"No," Garcia answered. "Look, Mr. Wayne, it is an ongoing investigation that I have not been told any more about. The accusation was made, and..."

"Have you got any proof?" Bruce demanded, sitting down in the mayor's chair and sending him his best pissed-off-playboy look. "Proof is important in these cases."

"There is...sufficient evidence to indicate we may have an issue. I felt it best..."

"To fire a hard-working, honest man who's never done anything but good for this city!"

"I still feel it best that we remove him from office while the investigation takes place. What is done is done anyhow, Mr. Wayne, and I am sorry that you disagree, but there isn't anything to be done now. I'm sorry. Are you sure I can't get you that coffee?"

Bruce rose. "No, Mr. Mayor. I don't want anything." He let contempt creep into his voice. "You've made a big mistake. You won't see it, despite what he's done, but I won't support it in any way, shape or form."

"Mr. Wayne," Garcia protested, his eyes widening slightly. Bruce had to bite back a pleased smile as he watched the mayor's realization that all his political maneuverings had done nothing and that he was about ready to lose the checkbook of his biggest supporter.

"You have obviously made up your mind, and you'll have to excuse me." He crossed the room and spoke one last time just before he got to the door. "I just don't understand it, Mr. Mayor. You always seemed so...smart." He knew, coming from Bruce Wayne, that the comment would be harshly felt. "Excuse me." He opened the door and shut it, ignoring the secretary as she shot instantly to her feet. He opened the door and retraced his path down and out of the building, allowing anger and confusion to show on his face. Behind the mask, he noted everyone who caught the look, several pairs walking together falling into quick conversation as they passed.

Perfect,he thought to himself as he strode out of the building and back down the stairs to where Alfred was waiting with the car. Getting in, he waited for Alfred to take his place in the driver's seat before speaking. "Wayne Enterprises, please, Alfred. I have some arrangements to make."

"Of course, sir." Alfred put the car in gear and eased into traffic.

X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X

Jim Gordon shifted uncomfortably in the wheelchair he was sitting in, staring out the hospital window towards downtown. He sighed and looked down at his daughter's sketches, held lightly in his hands, then looked back out the window with a sigh. He had spoken to them the night before, affected cheerfulness, but it had been difficult. Stephens' reaction to his firing had been nothing but predictable and he hoped he had made the man see some sort of reason. He thought he had. They had, after all, been friends for a very long time.

Gordon turned his head at the knock on his door, calling for whoever it was to enter; he expected Stephens but instead was surprised by the entrance of Bruce Wayne, dressed even more impeccably than usual. "Commissioner," he said with a smile, holding up the bag. "I thought you may have gotten through all the DVDs I brought so I thought I'd bring a few more. See how you're doing."

"I am doing all right, Mr. Wayne," he said as he took the offered bag and pulled out the stack of DVDs within.

"A few of those were, yet again, Alfred's idea," he commented as Jim looked through the stack. "I haven't seen any of them. I'm not much for movies. Alfred was, before he had me to manage so you can trust his judgment."

"They've been keeping me busy. It's been helpful. Thank you again." He set them aside. "I got your note the other day. "

"Ah, yes. Well, with the manor rebuilt it only makes sense. I never use the penthouse and it's got an elevator and anything else you could need. And I've already found someone willing to help temporarily. A friend of the family recommended her; she's had nursing experience and is very good at what she does."

"Mr. Wayne..."

"If her trustworthiness is the issue, I can assure you..."

"That isn't it, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce, please."

"Bruce, I really do appreciate it, and..."

"It's a good idea," Bruce told the commissioner. "I certainly don't need the penthouse. And Tina is a very good nurse, I can assure you. She'll be more than perfect for what you need. An old friend of the family got sick, you know. You've heard of Arthur Madison. Well, she nursed him day and night after he had that awful stroke; right up until he died she was right there. Patient as all hell, and very good at what she does."

"Mr. Wayne…"

"Bruce."

"Bruce, I…"

"I owe you a great deal and I won't hear any arguments. Please, commissioner." Jim Gordon studied the younger man for a long moment, noting not only the stubbornness in his face but also determination.

"Mr. Wayne, I am not trying to argue. I'm trying to thank you for your offer, and accept it."

"Bruce," Wayne said again. "And good. I'm glad I can do something to repay you. Speaking of which, I heard that you lost your job." There, Gordon reflected, was yet again the real Bruce Wayne, nonchalant and not understanding just how much a person could be affected by such a thing. He had never been fired from a job in his life. Hell, forget being fired, he had probably never had a job in his life.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Wayne."

"Well, I am sorry to hear that, but it certainly is good timing."

"What?" Gordon asked in surprise, shocked nearly speechless.

"You see, Wayne Enterprises is looking for a new head of their security division. I spoke to Lucius yesterday and he was quite insistent that I ask you to take the position. Someone with your experience in law enforcement and in Gotham would be an invaluable resource." There was a long moment of silence in which Gordon just started unabashedly at Wayne.

"Are you offering me a job?" Gordon finally asked.

"Yes. You need one, don't you? And we'd be more than willing to put together an exceptional package for you in terms of salary and benefits. I'd say we could probably add a good ten, twenty thousand a year to what you're making right now, extra if you work overtime, which may occasionally be required, but it will still be less time than you work now, I imagine."

"Mr. Wayne, why are you doing this?"

"Because you're the best person for the position, Jim. And you've gotten the short end of the stick with the Mayor. I went to see him this morning…"

"You did?" Gordon interrupted.

"Yes, yes." Wayne waved off his surprise. "And he questioned your integrity and I just couldn't accept that. You saved my life, and you've proved yourself more committed to Gotham than anyone else in this city. I'm not about to let you go out on the streets after all you've done. I value people who know how to do the right thing, and I want to reward them. I've got the offer right here." He held out the folder he had been carrying to Gordon, who took it and opened it, scanning the first page.

"Mr. Wayne, this is too generous…" he protested when he read the salary.

"It's what the current position holder is making," Wayne said, waving off his concerns. "You've met him I think, after the fundraiser the Joker crashed. His name is Lou Brewster. Good man, but wants to retire and move to California or something like that. Anyway, he's willing to delay retirement until you're able to step into the job. So go ahead and review what Lucius sent over, and give him a call to let him know what you've decided. It's a good opportunity though, Jim. If I were you, I'd take it."

"Mr. Wayne…"

"Bruce," the billionaire repeated.

"Bruce…" he said, beginning to protest. "How can I ever thank you for all this?"

"Nonsense," he said, waving off Gordon's concern. "It's I with the debt to repay."

Gordon stared at the billionaire for a moment before looking back down at the paper, silent, attempting to take it in. When he spoke again, it was not to protest. "Thank you, Bruce," he said. "I will look this over and let Mr. Fox know as soon as I can."

"Good," Wayne flashed him a million-watt smile. "Which way are you leaning though?"

"As you say, Mr. Wayne, I do need a job. And your terms are very generous."

"I hoped you'd think so," he said with a contented smile. "Well, Lucius will be able to get you started on the hiring paperwork when you're ready."

"Mr. Wayne," Gordon began, and then stopped, looking as though he had something to say but was unsure as to how to say it.

"Bruce."

"Bruce, I…I feel I owe you an apology."

"An apology?" It was the billionaire's turn to be surprised.

"I have been rather…uncharitable...in how I have thought and spoken of you. The last weeks have made it obvious how wrong I was, and I am sorry for it."

Gordon was surprised when Wayne started to laugh. "I'm sure a lot of what you said was true, Jim," he said. "You have high standards for behavior, and I am sure that my wastrel ways are the exact opposite of what you like to see. Alfred's been at me for years, but I'm afraid I am what I am. I can feel gratitude though, and I'm pretty good at indignation when I see something that isn't right. I don't believe for one minute you would ever work with a murderer like the Batman." Gordon felt a flush of guilt but wisely remained silent. "You've been vilified, and I'll be damned if I don't show the world just what I think about that. You saved my life and I am grateful for that and the other things you have done for me over the years. I feel like I ought to give what little I can in return."

"Bruce, offering me a place to stay, nursing, and a new job is more than just a little."

Again, Wayne waved off his concern. "The first is no inconvenience and just a little bit of money. And Lucius and Brewster agreed that you were the right man for the job. When Lucius heard you might be available, he suggested we try to get you for it. I'm just the messenger, at the whims of my CEO, since I have nothing better to do with my time."

"All the same, Mr. Wayne, thank you." An eyebrow rose and the billionaire studied him for a long moment. "Excuse me. Bruce." The smile split the man's face again.

"We'll break you of that habit yet, Commissioner. Jim," the man corrected immediately, and both men laughed. "Something to work on, anyway," he commented as he got to his feet. "You're not alone in this, Jim. There are people who don't believe what the mayor is saying for a second. Time will show the truth."

"I do hope so," Gordon answered, closing the folder he had been given in his lap. "Thank you."

"Any time. Oh, and everything, including Tina, is prepared at the penthouse for when the time comes, so just let me know when you will be released and we can get everything finalized. It'll be soon, I hope. It's been two months already."

"It will be in the next week or so, most likely," Gordon answered. "Thankfully. If I have to stare at these walls for much longer than that, I think they'll have to haul me off to Arkham." Bruce Wayne glanced around at the white walls, the white venetian blinds, and the bland print hanging above the bed.

"I can see why," he commented. "Well, I hope a few more DVDs will help the matter. I'm afraid I have to excuse myself, however. There's a board meeting this afternoon, and as boring as they are, Lucius insists I attend. I have just about enough time to get back."

"Well, don't let me keep you, Bruce. I will look this over and let Mr. Fox know my answer in the next few days. Thanks for stopping by."

"My distinct pleasure, Jim," Bruce said, before he swept out the door. For his part, Gordon reopened the folder lying on his lap and began to read through it in more detail, studying it carefully as he tried to ignore the disbelief that still threatened. When he had finished, he closed the folder and stared into space for several moments, his mind wandering before an unwitting chuckle broke free from him. He remembered Stephens' reaction to Wayne's penthouse offer, and had a sudden mental image of his friend's face after this new bit of news.

He turned his wheelchair so he could cross the room to get the mini-DVD player Wayne had given him, feeling hopeful for the first time in months. Surprised reactions aside, Gordon knew it was a good opportunity for reasons far beyond the good salary and benefits. There was travel involved to Wayne Enterprises branch offices, one of which was in Chicago; there was an excess of vacation time and the prestige involved in working for one of the top ten Fortune 500 companies, as essentially a cop no less. With a smile, he set the folder aside, knowing full well that, in the end, he would take the job. He was not an idiot, and only idiots turned down such a generous setup genuinely and freely offered, particularly when other options were most likely non-existent. And that was not to mention the icing on the cake, he thought with a self-satisfied smile. There was always the opportunity to meet the mayor at fundraisers and see the look on his face at Gordon so well set up by Bruce Wayne at a time when Garcia himself was no longer one of the billionaire's favorites.

Karma, Gordon decided, was indeed a bitch when she ought to be.