Nightlife

"Leaving so soon, Bruce?"

Bruce Wayne turned and forced a smile at Veronica Vreeland. "Sorry, Ronnie. It's a great party, but I've got…other commitments tonight."

"What other commitments?" she murmured, cuddling against his arm. "You're always flitting off somewhere, Brucie. You need a good woman to keep you tied down."

"And I'm sure you're very good at that, but I really do have somewhere else to be," said Bruce, disentangling himself from her embrace. "Sorry, Ronnie."

"Oh Bruce, how am I ever supposed to get you to marry me if we never get to spend any time together?" sighed Veronica, huffily.

"I hear that's the key to the most successful marriages," said Bruce with a smile. "I'll see you later, Ronnie," he said, kissing her cheek.

She smiled. "If you weren't so terribly charming, Bruce, I think I might hate you," she sighed. "Off you go then, to your mysterious commitments. But I warn you, the mystery only deepens your attraction."

Bruce grinned at her and then left the building. The moment he was outside, his smile dropped as he strode toward his car. He opened the trunk and pulled out a briefcase containing the Batsuit, and then made his way over to a nearby phonebooth. He didn't like stealing Clark's style, he thought with a smile, but it was better than changing in his car.

All of the sudden, he was grabbed by two pairs of strong hands and dragged into the alley. Bruce struggled against them, and was just about to break their wrists in full Batman mode, when a familiar voice muttered, "Evening, Bruce."

Bruce looked up to see a coin shining in the moonlight as it was flipped in the air. It landed in the hand of a man still concealed in the shadows of the alley, who now stepped into the light. But he didn't need to – Bruce already knew who it was.

"Harvey?" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Two-Face nodded at the men to release him. "I wanted to see you again," he murmured. "I was thinking recently about some of the old times we used to have together. Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent, painting the town red, shutting down all the clubs, staying out until dawn…you ever miss those days, Bruce?"

Bruce stared at him. "Well, I…I miss you, Harvey, of course," he murmured.

"Yeah. I don't suppose your life is much different now, really," murmured Two-Face, flipping his coin again. "But it's been a long time since I painted the town red with a friend. Which is why I asked my boys here to grab ya," he said, nodding at the henchmen. "I'm going out tonight, and I thought who better to come with me than my old pal Bruce Wayne? It'll be just like old times, buddy."

"Harvey, I'm…touched at the thought," said Bruce, slowly. "But you're a wanted felon…"

"You'll find a wanted felon gets a lotta respect in this town," growled Two-Face. "Especially from the dames," he added, grinning. "C'mon, Bruce. Do an old friend a favor. Let's go wild the way we used to."

Bruce studied him. As far as he could tell, Two-Face was being sincere. And at least if Bruce was chaperoning him, he could make sure he wasn't getting into any trouble. There were certainly worse ways to spend an evening. And maybe if he talked to Harvey, he could help him in some way. Maybe reliving the joys of the past like this would be just the thing to bring Harvey back.

He nodded slowly. "All right, Harvey. I'm in."

Two-Face grinned. "Aw, you're the greatest, Bruce!" he chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Boys, beat it," he growled at the henchmen. "Sorry if they roughed you up," he said, dusting off Bruce's suit. "Whatcha got in the case?" he asked, nodding at the briefcase.

"Uh…just some contracts," muttered Bruce hastily. "Nothing interesting. I'll just drop 'em off at my car…"

They re-emerged onto the street and Bruce went over to his car, replacing the briefcase in the trunk. Two-Face looked around the empty street, and then checked his watch. "Late, as usual," he growled.

"Are we expecting somebody else?" asked Bruce, surprised.

"Yeah. Our ride," muttered Two-Face. "That's what I get for trusting that clown to organize transport…"

A limousine suddenly careened around the corner, and screeched to a halt in front of Two-Face. A terrified-looking chauffeur jumped out and bowed. "Mr…Mr…Two-Face, sir, Mr. Wayne. Please…climb in," he said, opening the passenger door.

"Y'know what they say, boys, if you gotta travel, why not travel in style!" laughed a familiar voice.

"Oh…my…God," stammered Bruce, as he stared into the limousine to see the smiling face of the Joker.