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As was common, Jim Gordon had stayed late at the office. The frequently headache-inducing overhead fluorescent light was off, leaving only the desktop lamp and computer screen to provide illumination. Barbara always warned her father that he’d worsen his already abysmal eyesight by working in the dark, but there was just something… soothing about it to him. After another bout of staring uncomprehendingly at the screen, Gordon stood up, stretched, and grumbled as his back cracked.
Then he looked around the darkened room and sighed again, readjusted his glasses, and sat. His mouse-holding hand twitched, itching for a cigarette or maybe some more coffee. But he knew that if he had either, he’d be unable to sleep when he did finally call it quits and dragged himself home. The last thing Gordon needed was more trouble sleeping.
“Christ,” he swore, rereading the electronic document he’d been working for the past hour. Gordon pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes, twisting slightly to the side to crack his back again. The resulting sound was loud. “C’mon, Jim, just two more pages,” he muttered to himself, attempting to refocus, “then you can go home.”
“Well in that case, should I come back later?”
Heart nearly hammering out of his chest, Gordon lurched to his feet, hands balled into fists. He exhaled, slowly relaxing his stance after he identified the speaker. “You’re as bad as he is.” Crouched in the windowsill— nearly invisible save for the white lenses of his domino mask, blue finger stripes, and the symbol on his chest— was Nightwing. Gordon pushed in his chair and walked around the desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he came to a stop and shot a very unimpressed look at the young vigilante. “I thought you were old enough to know better than to sneak up on an old man in his office,” he added.
“You know what they say about habits.” Nightwing smiled as he finished pulling himself through the window and closed it smoothly. He studied Gordon for a moment, running a hand through his hair in what seemed like a nervous manner. Quite a change from when he was little, the Commissioner found himself musing wistfully. He recalled several occasions in the early years where Batman’s exasperation had gotten the better of him and the older vigilante would quietly attempt to corral his side-kick. Or partner, as the first Robin would insist on being called.
“You alright, Commish?”
Gordon blinked, then shook his head. “Yes. Just having a long night. It’s good to see you, Nightwing. Been a while since you were last in Gotham.” Is something wrong?
The younger man smiled faintly again— he’d always been more open than his mentor and it was still disarming, even after all these years of working with the Bats. “I guess it has been, huh? But I’m not here about a case tonight… Actually, it’s personal.”
“Personal?” That could be any number of things. Despite himself, Gordon felt nervous.
Nightwing shifted again, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “B’s getting married, as you know, and I thought it’d be nice to throw him a bachelor party.”
Gordon blinked. “‘A bachelor party?’” he repeated. Nightwing nodded. “Who’s invited?”
“Well since it’s B, I figured we’d keep it small. You, me, Superman, maybe a few of the others… depending on if there’ll be drinks involved or not.”
“Right,” Gordon agreed faintly, mind still stuck on ‘You, me, and Superman.’ He’d met the Kryptonian before, even talked to him about Batman, and worked with him once or twice, but Jim never got used to it, somehow. The Commissioner forced himself to turn his attention back to Nightwing. “I assume you’ve figured out how you’re going to get Batman to… cooperate?”
Nightwing grimaced, then sighed. “I’m still working on that, but I’ll figure something out.”
Gordon adjusted his glasses, walked back around the desk to see his computer screen, and typed something in. He felt more than saw Nightwing drift closer. “If you’re still looking for a location, there’s always Joe’s. Your—” Gordon hesitated over the title. It’d be convenient if they’d share a family tree. But no, of course not. That’d be too easy. “Batman and I go there, occasionally.” When he looked up, the younger vigilante was glancing at the screen, a thoughtful frown on his face.
“You think they’d be willing to accommodate a few more of us?” Nightwing asked carefully.
He laughed. Hell, if Joe knew that Superman is going to be there too, he’d be over the moon. “More than. Just name a time and place and I’ll be there.”
“I will. Thanks, Gordon.” With that, the window was opened again and Nightwing disappeared. Gordon shook his head, powered down the computer, shut the window, and headed out.
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Several weeks went by, and Gordon more or less forgot about the incident. Until he received a text from an unlisted number: “7 p.m., Joe’s Tavern, this Thursday. If you see anything suspicious, don’t worry about it. Hood’s helping me lure B there.” He frowned at that, because as much as Batman’s relationship with most of Gotham’s other Bat-themed vigilantes confused him, none did more than his and the Red Hood’s.
“As long as he does nothing that’s actually illegal,” Gordon typed. He hesitated, deleted that, and wrote: “Keep the damage to a minimum and no civilian involvement, please” and sent that instead. A few seconds later, he received a thumbs-up emoji. Shaking his head slightly at the bizarreness that was his life, Gordon pulled up his calendar app and added an event to it.
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At 6:50 p.m. he started hearing chatter about an on-going robbery, possibly with Red Hood’s involvement. Sighing, Gordon called in that he’d be on-scene soon— usually, he wouldn’t go out for something as trivial, but with masked involvement, all bets were off. Still, he wasn’t overly concerned, thanks to Nightwing’s warning. But when he arrived at the tavern there was no sign of Red Hood, save for a few tied-up criminals, most likely drug dealers, and a few spent shells.
Joe looked a bit shaken up and quickly identified the men as heavies who’d been trying to make a name for themselves in the neighborhood.
After everything was processed, Gordon glanced at his watch. 7:02 p.m. Where is—
“Jim. I understand that Red Hood was… involved with this.”
He jumped. “You know, I just had a conversation about this with—”
“Me,” Nightwing said, materializing out of the shadows. He performed some fancy acrobatic maneuver Gordon didn’t have a name for and landed a few feet away from them, looking smug. Batman stared at him for a long moment, then turned back to the Commissioner.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, it’s—” Gordon opened his mouth to explain when a sudden breeze ruffled his hair.
“Sorry I’m late! There was a fire in Brazil,” the Kryptonian said as he landed between Gordon and Nightwing and Batman. Superman frowned briefly, then turned to Gordon. “Did I interrupt you, Commissioner?”
He blinked. “No, Superman. I think it’d be best if we continued this inside.”
“Of course.” With that, Kal-El turned and put a very deliberate hand on Batman’s tense shoulder, no doubt corralling him. Gordon’s lips twitched. While he didn’t entirely understand their dynamic, it was always good to be reminded that the man wasn’t alone. Nightwing met his gaze and smiled too.
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They were led to Jim and Batman’s regular booth by a still-nervous Joe— though he seemed preoccupied with something other than the ‘robbery’ now. The tavern, which would normally be busy, was eerily empty. Save for Joe himself and the unseen cooks in the back. Superman carefully ensured Batman was already seated before he sat on the outside of the bench. For that, he received a muted glare, though the Kryptonian ignored this. Gordon was distracted from his observations when Nightwing sat beside him.
For a moment, they glanced around the empty space and at each other awkwardly.
Then Batman asked, “There was never any robbery, was there?”
Another beat of silence passed before Gordon realized that that question was directed at him.
“Well, no—”
Nightwing held up a hand and looked apologetically at the Commissioner. “It was my idea.”
The two Gotham heroes stared at one another for an uncomfortable period, during which Jim and Superman glanced uneasily at each other, their respective bench mates. Finally, Batman sighed softly. “You, Hood, and I will be having a discussion about faking crimes later. I hope you two compensated Joe for the lost business.”
Nightwing, looking like he was trying very hard not to smile, nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Batman’s mouth pursed, before Superman leaned over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “B.”
Another sigh. “Fine. May I at least ask why we’re here?”
As he was most likely in the least amount of trouble out of all of them, Gordon decided to take one for the ‘team.’ “A not-so-little bird reminded me that you were getting married. I believe this is a bachelor’s party.”
Batman stared blankly at him for a moment, actually seeming surprised. “… oh.” He fell silent.
Thankfully, before the awkwardness could continue, Joe arrived with the menus.
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Superman ordered a Pilsner, Batman, unsurprisingly, a coffee, and Nightwing a margarita. As he was technically still on-duty still, Gordon asked for a lemonade. Then it was time for food. Batman ordered a salad, Nightwing a burger and tater tots— after saying: “You’re having some of my tots, B”— and Superman fish and chips. Jim decided on the Reuben.
While they waited for everything to be prepared, their attention turned to conversation.
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“Any advice on marriage, Commissioner?” Superman asked brightly.
He was distantly pleased to see Batman and Nightwing wince on his behalf. Though Gordon didn’t hold it against the Kryptonian as he was an out-of-towner. “Please, call me Jim, none of us are working right now… and I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask that— I’m divorced.”
The Kryptonian looked taken aback for a moment. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Jim waved him off. “It’s fine. Didn’t really make waves outside of Gotham, thankfully. But I suppose I do have some advice, if you want it.” With that said, he looked to Batman, who nodded. “Communicate. Make sure you do things together— outside of work— too.”
Another nod. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
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Their drinks came shortly after that, followed by the food. Batman, to Gordon’s amusement, did eat a significant amount of Nightwing’s tater tots. He was offered some of Superman’s fries too but refused those. The food was nothing special, but it was filling, and the company was more than pleasant. With some bittersweet foresight, Gordon knew that he’d long look back on this occasion as something special. When was the last time he— or any of them, for that matter— had been able to relax like this, after all?
The sound of laughter— Batman’s laughter, at that— drew him out of his thoughts. “… knew she was a match for you when she managed to sneak up on me that time you were out of town,” Superman was saying. Nightwing chuckled too, placing a hand on the table to steady himself.
“I assume you’ve heard how she proposed?” Jim asked.
Superman nodded, still looking amused. “I have. But I wouldn’t mind hearing it again— never hurts to hear a story from multiple sources.”
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Superman suddenly cocked his head, frowning, and Nightwing cut himself off. Batman looked at the Kryptonian carefully. “Something important?”
At that, Superman nodded regretfully. “I think so. But after I’ve dealt with it—”
“No. I need to start patrol anyway.”
The two men looked at one another for a long instant, then Superman sighed. “Well alright. At least let me pay for—”
“Already got it covered, Kal,” Nightwing said firmly. “But you could drop me off in Bludhaven as a favor. I don’t think B’s willing to make the drive on such short notice.”
“I’m not.” Both Nightwing and Superman shot Batman reproachful looks, at that.
Gordon snorted. “I should probably get going too. Barbara will be disappointed if I don’t at least say hello— Thursday is usually our spaghetti night.”
The three of them stood. After a moment of hesitation, so did Batman. Though once upright, he stilled. They waited. “Thank you for tonight. All of you. It was… enjoyable.”
“I’m glad. And again, congratulations, B. You deserve it!” Superman said, rescuing them from the surprised silence that followed Batman’s unusual candidness.
“What Big Blue said,” Nightwing echoed.
Gordon nodded firmly. “Same here, Partner.” And with that, they dispersed.