It was nearing three am when they loaded the trucks. The prisoners went quietly, all of them only too eager to leave Gotham and its chaos behind. The trucks were camouflaged well; anyone on the highways would only see another gigantic, lumbering big rig.

The unmarked police cars surrounded the trucks at a discreet distance; the Bat stayed even further back. It was his normal tactics, but he also wasn't too sure of the cops' reactions.

He trusted Gordon and Dent, and the two of them had been unyielding in their defiance of the Joker the past week, but as for the rest of Gotham… In any event, he'd just stick to minding his surroundings.

The only good news from the Joker's threats and murders was that the media had forgotten about the prison riots. And so far the transfers seemed to be working. He and Gordon had overseen the first one; Gordon had been at the Gaines unit directing the transfer, and then the Bat had taken it upon himself to tail the trucks for the first few hours. He hadn't minded the time – it was much easier on his healing back. But injured back or not, successful transfers or not, he still had to find the Joker.

Alfred was researching furiously, but they hadn't gotten anywhere. And the thugs the Batman was taking down every night weren't talking either – not to the police and not to him (when he tried more personal interrogations). Despite the setbacks, the Bat was not going to let the Joker interfere with the rest of their plan. He, Gordon, and Dent had locked up half of the criminals – they just had to keep them alive long enough to drain the mob dry.

The Bat was ripped out of his thoughts when an SUV zipped by, its lack of headlights cloaking it in the darkness. Before even the Bat had accelerated in response, it had whipped its way in front of the first truck and something dark and long flew out the back. The disguised transport had no time to react; the spikes ripped through the tires, and the driver fought to keep control of the unwieldy vehicle. Fought for, overcorrected, and lost. With a tremendous crash, the first prison truck flipped onto its side.

The second driver was able to keep control of his vehicle during the chaos, but the other crashed right in front of him and forced him to a halt, unable to maneuver.

The dark SUV pulled up even with the second truck, murderous intentions clear as a gun barrel peaked out a window, but then the Bat pummeled into the van. His tank rammed into the back half and spun it around. A quick tap of his controls and he fired a shot – close, but deliberately missing the van and instead exploding harmlessly into the highway divider. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he would only give one warning.

The van's occupants apparently got the message, and they screeched off, with half of the police detail whipping into pursuit. The Bat joined them.

..

Harvey stood on the roof of MCU, alone. They didn't have a meeting scheduled with the Batman, but Harvey had taken residence up there for a few days now, feverishly working into the evening as he made phone call after phone call. It'd been over a week since the Joker had first killed Surrillo – and since then, the Joker had made good on his threats to keep murdering a citizen a day until Harvey gave into his blackmail. Which, to the surprise of no one, but the anger of many, Harvey hadn't.

And now his office was swarmed. With media, politicians, lawyers, grieving family members – all just itching to give Harvey an earful. They flooded the building and swamped his secretary with phone calls. Finally, desperate for some place to actually work, Harvey had fled to Gordon's private headquarters. Gordon had let him take de facto ownership of one of MCU's offices, and then he'd left him alone, for which he was grateful. Harvey also suspected that he'd had a talk with his men, because they were surprisingly polite and solicitous towards him.

And every night Harvey would defiantly turn on the floodlight, but the Batman hadn't shown yet. The masked vigilante was keeping busy; that was evident by the number of criminals left on MCU's doorstep or tied up around town. But Harvey still wanted to actually talk to the man. They had a lot to discuss, but so far the Bat had ignored his attempts to meet.

A dark shadow appeared in the corner of his eye, and suddenly, Dent's wish was granted. He turned around. The Batman stood a distance away, silent and still as always.

"Finally. I was beginning to think you'd never show up again."

"Do you have something?" was the Bat's terse reply.

"Is what the Joker said true?" Even though they were completely alone, Harvey kept his voice low. "Does he know who you are?"

"It's possible." There was no emotion in the voice or in the eyes, but there was a tension to his shoulders. Wariness in his stance. Harvey didn't like seeing it.

"I won't ever ask," he said. And he wouldn't - especially not at the behest of a circus criminal.

"Gotham might force you to."

"Our citizens are made of stronger stuff than that," Harvey broke off as the roof's door opened and Gordon stepped out. Instantly, Harvey's expression soured.

"Garcia's not happy," he informed the lieutenant without preamble. That morning Harvey had had to try to placate the mayor over the botched transfer, and it hadn't gone well. Mostly because Harvey was just as furious.

"Not surprising," Gordon replied with a miniscule shrug. "It was bound to happen, Harvey."

"That's just an excuse. If you knew it was going to happen, then you should have prepared better."

"The mob didn't succeed; we were still able to move the prisoners."

"Thanks to the Batman," here Harvey gestured to the vigilante, who did not look pleased at being used against Gordon, "not you or your men. I told you to keep it a secret – not go blabbing it to all of GPD."

Gordon was not going to be scolded by a lawyer. "We'd already transferred the first group; it was only a matter of time before the mob caught on."

"We don't need this right now. This is just the excuse a judge needs to throw everything out. And after Surrillo, any judge assigned this case will be latching onto anything to get it dismissed."

The Batman broke into their argument. "We have to focus on the Joker."

Gordon sighed. "That's been a dead end all around."

"The men attacking the trucks were Gambol's men," the Bat informed them – well, informed Harvey, Gordon already knew since he'd been overseeing the interrogations since they'd been captured.

"So?" Harvey didn't understand the importance the Bat was evidently attaching to the fact. "Gambol's dead."

"Because the Joker killed him," the Batman returned.

Gordon thought he was following, but he didn't agree. "It doesn't matter. They won't betray the Joker out of loyalty to their dead boss. Not when it means their lives on the line."

The Bat took a step toward Gordon. "But they still have some loyalty to him – enough to take care of Gambol's family."

Gordon's brow furrowed as he considered the possibilities the Batman was driving at.

Harvey was not tracking and impatient to move on. "I still don't see what relevance it has."

Gordon turned to him. "If they've been taking care of Gambol's family, they might have let some information slip at some point."

Now, Harvey got it. "And it's a cinch that they won't have any qualms about crossing the Joker."

Gordon nodded. "At this point we have to try everything; I'll talk with them in the morning."

"And let's try to keep it a secret this time," Harvey advised.

The detective stopped. "I trust my team, Harvey." His voice was steel, and Harvey was surprised to feel a little remorse for his barb.

So, Harvey scowled but backed off. "All right. I need to go anyway. I'm taking Rachel to the ballet."

"What?" the hissed exclamation came from the Batman.

"Bruce Wayne gave me tickets," Dent explained, an almost defiant smugness to his words.

"You can't go to the ballet now," Gordon said.

Harvey threw him a tight smile. "Watch me."

Gordon shook his head as Harvey left. He turned to Batman.

"I need you to keep an eye on Dent. The Joker's placed a big target on his back."

"And he just enjoys making it bigger." The exasperation was evident in the deep growl. The visible emotion had Gordon frowning, and his frown deepened as he saw the Bat grip the edge.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"You're injured."

The Bat glared at him before turning and jumping off the roof. It was one of the few times Gordon had been privy to the man's departure, and he would have smiled at the almost child-like defiance, but right now he was too worried. The Batman was not invincible, and now - with the Joker trying to enrage an entire city against him – he was injured.

..

"This is the dumbest idea you've ever had."

Harvey leaned against the counter in Rachel's kitchen, a little surprised. He'd figured if anyone would understand, it would be her. "I have to show the world I'm not afraid."

Rachel laid a hand on his arm. "The Joker's trying to get you killed – no one is going to fault you for being scared."

"I'm not going to let the world think I'm scared of going to the ballet."

Rachel's mouth twisted. "Said Mr. Lincoln to his wife."

Harvey mock-glared at her for that. "What is it you always say, Rachel?"

"I don't know," she replied lightly, "but I'm certain I'm not going to like having it thrown back in my face."

"If the good people won't stand up for Gotham, who will?"

Rachel huffed in annoyance. "But this isn't standing up for Gotham, this is you and your ego. You just want a headline: 'Harvey Dent- unflappable in the face of mortal peril.'"

Harvey grinned at the title.

That just enraged her more. "You are so infuriating sometimes. If you want to go get yourself killed, be my guest. But I'm not going to watch." Rachel stormed away.

..

Harvey closed his car door with a vicious slam. He'd spent almost an hour trying to convince Rachel, but she wouldn't back down. So, he was going to the ballet alone. The day kept getting better and better.

"Harvey, what are you doing here?"

The attorney scowled at the cheerfully surprised voice. "You gave me the tickets."

Bruce walked languidly forward, hands in his pockets, his sunglasses as always firmly in place, even in the evening. "So I did. But they're not date-specific, you can go anytime."

"And I want to go now." He paused. "Rachel called you, didn't she?"

"Of course," Bruce didn't skip a beat. "And I wasn't going to let you destroy your career without trying to help."

That made Harvey frown. "She was afraid I'd get killed."

"Yeah, there's that too," Bruce dismissed with a slight wave of the hand. "But it's worse if they don't try to kill you. Then all that people will see is that Harvey Dent is enjoying tutus and champagne while his citizens are being murdered."

"That's not what they'll see," he objected.

"Yes it is. You can't act like it's not serious, Harvey. It is."

"And I can't let the Joker decide what I'm going to do!"

With that Harvey stalked by Bruce and headed to the theater. The policemen that were still tailing Harvey - and had stood at a distance while the two of them had argued - followed behind him.

There was a surprisingly long line at the box office. As Harvey walked forward, several of the people noticed, and two or three left their friends and headed towards him.

As soon as they moved, Bruce quickened his pace to fall into step with him, a move that made Harvey shake his head – the playboy with bodyguard delusions.

The police – his real bodyguards – stepped forward and intercepted the men heading towards him.

"We just wanted to tell Mr. Dent that we support him." The young men turned to Harvey, and the spokesman took a smaller step forward. "Mr. Dent, you need to know that Gotham supports you. We're proud of you."

Harvey shot a quick look at Wayne. "Thank you-" he began, but a voice back in the waiting line cut him off.

"No, we're not," a young woman, probably just out of college, called out in disgust.

Harvey's fan turned to the woman. "What? So, you think the district attorney should just give in to the Joker?"

"I think he shouldn't be messing around with the Batman. This is what happens when you step outside the law." Her friends around her and several older members of the crowd nodded their approval.

"No, this is what happens when a city allows the criminals free rein." Another woman had turned around further up in line; the ticket counter was free, but no one had their attention on it anymore.

"Free rein?" the man standing behind her repeated, incredulous. "The Joker's murdering everyone because Dent broke the law first."

"Broke the law? What are you talking about? Everything he's done has been in the name of the law." The first man, Dent's fan, walked up the line to confront the other.

It was getting heated. Almost everyone in line was in a deep debate with someone else. A few people were beginning to take out their cell phones to record the scene.

One of the policemen was radioing for backup, obviously seeing the same disquieting sparks in the atmosphere as he was. And Harvey had known even when arguing with Rachel that going to the theater wasn't his smartest idea, but he wasn't going to quit now. He wasn't going to be dictated to by anyone.

He stepped forward. He was under no delusions that he could sway his detractors to his side, but he was certain he could calm the riotous atmosphere that was brewing.

But then his fan threw the first punch. Immediately it was chaos – most people just scrambling to get away from the fight, a few others rushing in, some to break it up, others only too eager to join in.

And that was when Bruce took hold of Dent's arm. "It's time to go."

Bruce pulled him along down the street, the police officers throwing the billionaire a grateful glance as they waited for reinforcements to take care of the riot on their hands. Harvey couldn't even mount a token protest, before Wayne had thrown him into the passenger side of the man's Lamborghini.

Bruce made his way over to the driver's side, and the two of them sat in silence for a minute, Bruce inscrutable, Harvey quietly seething. Finally Wayne turned to him.

"And that was just the ballet crowd."