VII-Cacoethes

Ava crossed her legs, feeling ridiculously underdressed. Skirts and suits floated by, largely oblivious to her presence in the near vacant waiting area. Those that did regarded her with only a quizzical glance or nod of the head. How does he work here? she wondered, caged by the overstuffed chairs to her left and right. Her fingers drummed anxiously against her leather bag, the slight clacking reminding her of why she had even come.

This damn mask.

Impatience built with each passing second and she doubted whether the girl at the front desk told her the truth.

"He'll be back at eleven," she said with a shiny plastic smile.

Ava checked her watch: 11:15.

Rashly, she stood up and decided to leave.

I don't have time for this. she concluded, following the path that snaked through a maze of cubicles and green bankers' lamps.

But you don't have any other options. It was the voice of reason that drove her back to the cramped seat. Huffing, she opened her purse and peered inside, making sure that her golden ticket was still there.

A wadded ball of newspaper stared back at her, vaguely tucked into the shape of a face. Satisfied, she cupped her chin in the palm of her hand and hummed absently.

A familiar voice broke the monotony.

"Ava?" asked Harvey, nearing the chairs. "Kate told me you were waiting. What are you doing here?"

Ava immediately perked up, a worried frown surfacing.

"I need to talk to you. Now," she said, voice dropped to an irritated whisper. She could see the confusion in his eyes, but he only nodded and walked off, beckoning for her to follow. Trailing behind, she suppressed another wave of anger and focused on what she was there for.

Harvey stopped at an office centered between two cubicle rows and opened the door, holding it open. She hurried in, almost tripping on a plant pot.

He stood on the side of his desk and gestured for her to sit.

"No thanks, I've sat for the last fifteen minutes," bit Ava.

Harvey shrugged guiltily and stood up.

"Suit yourself. Did you get my text this morning?" he asked anxiously, eyes darting between her and the window that let him see out into the hallway.

"That's why I'm here, Harv. I found something you might want to take a look at."

"Really?"

Ava nodded, suddenly unsure about showing him.

Well, you're here now.

"You might want to close those first," she said, tossing her head at the blinds on the office window. "Wouldn't want anyone prying."

Harvey quickly shut them and perched eagerly on the edge of his desk.

"I went to the bank like you said, and there was a huge hole in one of the walls. It was crazy: the police were everywhere and the place was wrapped in caution tape," explained Ava, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Anyway, I tried to find out what happened and some girl named Ramirez shooed me off. I was walking back and found this."

With that, she handed him the paper covered mask. He quirked a brow.

"Just open it."

Doubtfully, he did, slightly disgusted by the cheap ink that rubbed off the newsprint. A gasp filled the room as Harvey came face to face with the mask, blood still intact.

"I think one of the robbers used it. Maybe you could get it tested?" suggested Ava sheepishly. She watched him for a reaction, but he simply stared at it, face blank.

After what seemed like an eternity, he looked up, a mix of surprise and concern.

"Did they see you take this?"

The question was pointed, and Ava was put off by the chill in his voice.

"Of course not. Do you really think I'd be that stupid?" she replied heatedly. "It was a couple blocks from the bank and they hadn't searched that far."

His shoulders sagged in relief, but he quickly tensed again, realizing his blunder.

"No," started Harvey abruptly, then fumbling. "You know that's not what I meant, Aves. It's just—do you know what you just brought me?"

"A major PR boost? I know, they'll love you for working with the police," she drawled, narrowing her eyes. "…but I expect something in return."

"Anything you want." answered Harvey intently, meeting her stare.

Anything? A smile crept onto her face, mind contemplating the possibilities. Settling on one, she was instantly serious.

"Just one thing for now. But first, a question."

"Shoot."

Harvey's eyes danced with curiosity and he braced on a bookshelf.

"Why didn't you come with Mel and I last night?"

That struck him. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, sighing.

"I wanted to but—"

"See?" interrupted Ava, with a sharp laugh. "Right there—you didn't answer the question. I don't care that you wanted to, I want to know why you didn't."

"The ballet. Rachel and I were supposed to go, but Bruce took the whole troupe to China on his yacht," struggled Harvey. He was squirming, but Ava couldn't bring herself to care.

"And you couldn't have called? I was looking forward to going out with both of you since last Friday!"

"I'm sorry. Really, I am."

He stepped closer to her, eyes pleading, and Ava softened.

Damn it, Harvey… She could never stay upset at him for long, especially when he gave her that look.

"Don't give me those eyes. I'm mad at you," she whined reluctantly.

He put his hand on her shoulder and she flushed.

Keep it together, Aves.

"Last night I was thinking," he hesitated, licking his lips. Ava's eyes darted to them, and she forced herself to focus. "I don't want to go through life thinking about things I should've done, risks I should've taken. Sure, I'm running for D.A., but that doesn't mean I want to have regrets because something I want to do might seem 'improper'."

The last words lingered in the air, laden with the unsaid.

"Is there a point here?" whispered Ava in an attempt to play coy.

Harvey closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, stepping yet closer to her. She froze, suddenly realizing what he meant. Back against the wall, she fought to keep her heart from racing.

"My point is," he started, tilting her face to his. "I don't want to keep wondering about this."

Without warning, he closed the remaining gap and lowered his mouth onto hers. Fire flared in her veins and she groaned, the initial shock of the kiss wearing off; his hands found her waist and she sighed, locking her arms around his neck. Their tongues tangled, and heat swelled in her body. As the moments passed, she wanted more, wanted to keep this fire smoldering at any cost. Her fingers clawed a mass of blonde hair and reeled him in.

Closer.

It was the only thought she had, self-control waning with each fleeting second. To her dismay, Harvey pulled away, utterly flustered. With a growl of disappointment, Ava's hazel eyes fluttered open, a brew of lust and satisfaction.

"What'd you think?" she asked, stunned breathless. The rose in her cheeks burned bright and her lips pouted.

"I think I should've done that a long time ago," exhaled Harvey, smoothing his hair. "…and we can never do that again."

"Why not? Don't tell me you didn't like it," laughed Ava breathily. Her inhibitions died with the kiss— impulse was speaking for her now.

"Damn it Ava, I loved it. That's exactly why we can't."

He turned his back to her and began to pace.

I can't believe he did that…I did that…we did that. she thought, the adrenaline fading.

"You said it yourself—no regrets. We both know there's something here, so do me a favor," cooed Ava, stepping in front of him. He shook his head feebly, but she knew she had him. "and go with it."

Running a hand through his hair, he gave her a not-so-subtle once over.

"You're more than a plaything, Aves. You mean something to me...you always have."

"Okay, so we treat this differently," shrugged Ava, gripping his shoulders. "take it as it comes. But we can't ignore it—I like you, you like me, proper or not."

He nodded, trying to convince himself that this was a good idea. Ava returned the smile he offered her and glanced at the mask.

"Do you know what hospital the witnesses are in?" she asked, mind returning to her work.

Still need a story.

"Gotham General, in the ICU. If you call, you should be able to get an interview with some of them."

"I'll head over there now." she said, resting her bag's strap on her shoulder. She stopped in front of Harvey, a wry smile on her face.

"Would you be up for sushi on Saturday?" asked Harvey hopefully.

Ava's grin widened.

"It's a date." She reached up and kissed his cheek, relishing the sound of the word. Opening the door, she turned around.

"Oh and Harv? You might want to wipe the lipstick off your lips."

She snickered and at his horrified expression and walked out. Triumphantly strutting the way she had come, she had to smile. Too many years and a suppressed crush later, she had done it.

Though unsure of what today meant for them, something told her this wasn't last time she'd kiss Harvey Dent.

Gotham's skyline rivaled the dim stars above, burning with the light of a thousand galaxies. The night weighed on Harvey's shoulders, and he shivered at the sudden wind that kicked up. He had both hands behind his back, an iron grip on the blood, white and blue mask. Whispers of the city below ghosted around him, haunting his ears and taunting his mind. Anxious, he walked the length of the gravel-crusted rooftop.

He said he'd be here by now. It wasn't fear that reminded him of Gordon's words, but anticipation. He arranged the meeting right after Ava left and spent the rest of his day impatiently watching the clock. If tonight went well, he was near-guaranteed to become D.A.

The power to clean Gotham. He let out a chilled breath, watching it wisp and vanish into the blackness.

He'd thought about the possibilities for a while, formulating a plan that he believed would reduce the city's crime. It all seemed so expansive—an endless sea of cartels, gangs and murderers. But after weeks of planning, he'd found the largest source of Gotham's problems: the mob.

They'll go first. He stared at the upper atrium door, half expecting a mustache and a pair of coke bottle glasses to slip through.

Five minutes passed. Nothing.

Sighing, he decided to wait a little while longer.

His mind tossed idle thoughts, finally settling on Ava. He shook his head in disbelief— it was almost surreal: there would be no more wondering what she'd taste like, if she wanted him too. Grinning wildly, it set in—he had finally done it…and screwed himself over in the process.

Rachel…The name brought an involuntary frown to his face and a sharp pang of guilt to his chest. He wasn't the type of guy that juggled multiple women at once; he had enough trouble with one. Rachel was attractive, engaging and witty—all things he admired in a woman. Yet, there was something about Ava that drew him in, made him curious. Maybe it was their friendship; maybe it was the way she chewed on her lip whenever she got nervous. In either case, Harvey didn't care—he wanted to ignore logic for a little while and see where it led.

I can't wait to—

"You had something to show me?" questioned a wearied voice.

Harvey was torn from his daydream by the words of Jim Gordon, Gotham's veteran lieutenant.

"I do," said Harvey, eyeing Gordon as he neared. His sleepy eyes rested in the hollows behind his glasses and his lips were pursed in a thin line. "What took you so long?"

"Harvey," started Gordon, an irritated sigh catching on the word. "crime is up twenty percent since last year and every cop in Major Crimes comes to me with their problems. Sorry if I'm late to a meeting with the guy who isn't even D.A."

"I wouldn't count me out just yet. Not after what I found today."

"And that would be?" asked Gordon, a hint of interest shining in his dull brown eyes.

Harvey said nothing, but took the mask from behind his back. "This. It's from—"

"The GN bank robbery," finished a suspicious Gordon. "Where the hell did you get this? My men cased the surrounding blocks and found nothing."

"Apparently they didn't look well enough. You could run this one for DNA—still has blood on it," proposed Harvey, a smug smile in his voice.

Gordon's frown deepened.

"Impossible. There were no fingerprints and all our leads went cold."

"Well, this one hasn't," said Harvey, tilting the mask so Gordon could see the red stains. "And I'm willing to let you have it…for a price."

"What do you want, Dent?"

"I want to be kept in the loop—no secrets. I want to know when and where things happen. And I want in with the Batman."

"What makes you think I'd have any idea about the Batman?" scoffed Gordon, eyes betraying him.

Harvey gave a short laugh and answered. "Don't patronize me. Weurtz and Ramirez are the dirtiest cops on your squad! They can't keep their mouths shut. You only have two options—either you let me in, or I throw this mask and let it fall ten storeys to the ground. See how well it holds up then."

Gordon was furious, but it didn't show. Only his eye twitched, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"You're in no place to give me ultimatums or talk about my people," growled Gordon, barely controlled.

"Really?" questioned Harvey, walking to the edge. He held the mask over the neon sea below, a defiant smirk on his face. "Then you can have the privilege of telling Mayor Garcia your case went cold because you refused to work with me."

Gordon's gaze was fixed on the mask, horror on his face. The empty eyes glowed with the blaring light below, mocking him with each flicker. He debated silently, eyes constantly switching between the mask and Harvey. Harvey watched Gordon's struggle and waited, keeping a vice grip on the mask.

He'll crack.

A gusty shriek of wind brought an answer with it.

"Fine—just take that damn mask away from the ledge!" conceded the incensed lieutenant. "I'll call you when I have something. Not a word of this to any of your people—I don't trust lawyers farther than I can see them."

"It's not me you have to worry about. After all, I'm not the one with a leak in their team," replied Harvey, walking back to the door. "Oh, and Gordon? If you try to screw me, I'll let Garcia know you're keeping dirty cops on the force. "

Gordon glowered, but Harvey kept his gaze level and handed him the mask. Without another word, he strode to the upper atrium door and opened it.

"You're a real two face, y'know that?" called Gordon, studying the fake face in his hands. Satisfied with what he saw, he carefully slid the mask into his zippered jacket.

Harvey looked over his shoulder, a Cheshire grin on his face. "So I've been told."

"Killer Clowns Rob Gotham Bank:

Police Investigation Becomes a Three Ring Circus?"

My first front-pager! thought Ava, staring at the Gotham Globe. The paper had run her story and even used her picture of the mask as the cover photo. She kicked her feet up on the living room table and opened the newspaper, pride soaring as she scanned the story.

And you said it couldn't be done. she snorted, thinking of her boss's words just a few days ago. She had spent days conducting survivor interviews and gathering information for the Sun, believing that Harding would jump at the opportunity to publish Gotham's dirt—his reaction was just the opposite.

"Are you crazy? Sales are up thanks to your election articles—Harvey's all the rage, kid. No one wants to hear about a bank robbery at a time like this. Just keep sending your assignment stories and stay away from the heavy stuff, okay?"

Outrage was the only emotion she could muster after that phone call; she wasn't going to let Harding's instructions get in the way of a big scoop, no matter how "heavy" it was. But she appeased him and sent her latest campaign update to the Sun.

The next day, she approached the Globe with the robbery. They had already run a small feature on it, but none of their staff reporters got to interview the survivors before the police showed up at Gotham General. Needless to say, the paper was more than willing to sensationalize the theft and pay her generously for her writing.

"I'm proud of you, but that's the fourth time you've looked at it this morning. Take it easy." yawned Pam, groggily sipping her coffee.

"Sorry," giggled a guilty Ava, setting the paper on the couch. "I'm just excited! They offered to make me a part-time member of their staff! Can you believe that? I'll have a reputation in both cities."

Pam's brow rose, and she perked up at Ava's last words.

"Slow down, you're making me nervous. I hate to break it to you, but now that your name's on the big story, you're a target—Gotham's a lot more dangerous than Blüd, Aves. Whoever robbed that bank isn't going to be happy you put all that dirt in the papers."

Ava stifled her laughter and tried to assuage Pam's fears.

"Don't you think that's a bit out there, Mel? I mean really, no one knows anything about me—where I live, what I look like." assured Ava, hardly concerned; Pam stared. "Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

Stringy green hair fell in a curtain in front of his face, blocking his view of the desk. He pushed it back with a snarl and continued his work, black and red markers strewn haphazardly across the rotting wood. His arm moved back and forth furiously, scribbling at random on newsprint.

"Ava, Ava, Ava," mumbled Joker, finishing a jagged 'HA' in the center of the page. His black eyes flicked to the bolded name at the top of the article.

I'll have to pay her a visit soon. The thought was hysterical, and a shrill peal of laughter sliced through the warehouse. He didn't want anyone to know who he was just yet, but hey, what harm could a little publicity do? If anything, it'd light a fire under the mob, make them do something stupid—well, worse than they already had.

"T-h-a-n-k y-o-u," he spelled, sprawling the message next to the title. Carefully, he drew an arrow to her name and made a black eyed, red-lipped smile beneath it. Violently, he pushed away from the desk, satisfied with his work. The paper was stained black with written laughter and the headline read:

"Killer Clowns Rob Gotham Bank:

MY Three Ring Circus"

"Boss?" called Dopey. The goon shifted from one foot to the other, looking at the ground. "I-It's time."

Rolling down the sleeves of his grey shirt, the Joker stared disinterestedly at the man in front of him.

"Is it?" Dopey nodded, visibly shaken. He was stocky, and had at least twenty pounds on the scarred man in front of him. Still, he quaked, afraid to look his employer in the eye.

The power of fear. It was a lesson he couldn't wait to teach Gotham. They thought the mob was something to fear? He'd show them; he'd take one of theirs and make them see: no one's above chaos.

"Then load the van." He was aggravated now, smacking his lips and stalking to the chair that held his coat. He shrugged it on, careful not to jostle the grenades he had wired into the lining. Closing his eyes, he let an angry smile stretch his scars until they scraped the lobes of his ears.

Come out and play.

He frowned—Dopey was still there. "NOW!" The goon skittered off to the far side of the loading dock, far away from the footsteps that thundered behind him.

Wrapping he dummy trigger string around his finger, the Joker tore the passenger side door open and jumped into the seat. Without a word, Dopey revved the engine and pulled out of the garage, eyes constantly drifting to the painted man at his right.

"Something wrong with your eyes?" asked Joker, licking his lips dangerously.

"N-No, nothing." replied Dopey, grip tightening on the steering wheel—his knuckles were white.

"Then drive before I give you something to look at." The threat was noted, and the goon navigated through the labyrinth of The Old Industrial Sector.

Only one thought reverberated in the Joker's head as they headed for the Gotham City Bridge, forcing another laugh from his throat.

Ready or not, here I come.

A/N: Hopefully I can get Chapter 8 out much sooner than this one...if college apps don't kill me first. Thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to know what you think.

For anyone wondering, "cacoethes" is Latin for "bad habit".

Til next time!

~L.L.