"Rachel, I'm fine, I promise. - Nothing happened. I'm at Wayne's. - He brought me here. - Just for a little while, then I'm heading home. - No, I'm not doing that." Harvey's voice rose on the last line, and he quickly turned and strode a few yards away, his voice lowering.

Bruce barely spared him a glance, his attention zeroed in on the television set. He clicked through the channels.

Eventually Harvey ended the call and headed to join where Bruce was standing.

Bruce tossed him the remote. "GCN's already reporting it."

"Accurately?" Dent asked, all business.

"I think the truth's bad enough, it can stand on its own," Bruce said, stepping away.

Harvey listened to the report and to the follow-up debate. Satisfied, he surfed through the other stations.

"At least two reporters were on our side."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "There was no 'our' in that. You made the decision to go to the theater all on your own."

"And I'd do it again." Firm, defiant. Bruce just looked at him. Finally, Harvey shrugged and conceded. "Maybe I'd do it again."

Bruce let a small smile escape at that admission. Turning he headed to the bar area of his lavish main floor. Harvey followed. Playing the bartender, Bruce poured a drink and set it down in front of Dent. Harvey swirled the liquid around in the glass, but didn't take a sip.

Bruce leaned forward, resting his arms against the counter. "I agree with Rachel," he announced.

That made Dent look up. "What?"

"You should stay here tonight. Alfred always keeps a guest room made up." He continued at Harvey's stare. "It's obvious what you were arguing about."

Harvey's expression twisted into annoyance. "Thanks," he finally muttered - a grudging attempt at politeness.

Bruce turned serious. He needed to get through to Harvey, despite the barriers that had sprung up between them recently. "You don't have to do this all on your own."

A muscle twitched in Harvey's jaw. "That's not exactly true, is it?" he said. He took a vicious swallow of his drink.

"The Joker's trying to cut you off, make you vulnerable."

"No," Harvey interrupted. "The Joker's given me all the power."

"And all the hatred."

"'If I'm not getting shot at, I'm not doing my job right,'" Harvey shot back with Rachel's words.

Bruce paused and cocked his head. "Now that should have been your campaign slogan."

For one of the first times in a while, Harvey didn't bristle at Bruce's mocking jabs. Normally the man would be seething about his dismissive attitude, but now - nothing. Bruce couldn't decide if that was an improvement or not.

"You're right about one thing." Dent set his drink down, then slowly let his gaze sharpen on Bruce. "About isolating myself. I could use some help swaying public sentiment on this."

Bruce straightened up. Harvey was asking him for help again – the first time since he'd staged the drunken brawl – and he had to refuse. "That's not what I meant," he began to backtrack.

"Then what did you mean by you're not alone?" Harvey asked, irritation finally creeping into his voice.

"That I'm with you in spirit. Go get 'em. Ra-ra." He raised a fist in support.

Harvey turned his gaze back to his drink; Bruce watched as the grip on the glass tightened. A moment passed. "I think I'm going to turn in."

Bruce directed him. Dent left without another word. Alone, Bruce barely stifled the urge to throw the glass at the wall.

...

Feeling unexpectedly more refreshed than he had in a while, no doubt owing to his unforeseen night off, Bruce – with barely a twinge in his back - sauntered down the stairs early the next morning.

And paused at the landing as he spied the unexpected visitor sitting stiffly on his divan, trying his best to disguise his discomfort at his surroundings.

"Gordon," Bruce called. "What are you doing here?"

Instantly, the detective stood up and moved to shake Wayne's hand, his awkwardness – mostly – transforming into professionalism. "Dent called me last night; he wanted to join me at a meeting this morning," he explained.

Bruce noted that Gordon wasn't sharing any details of this meeting with him. It looked like both of his partners were giving up on Bruce Wayne. At least they still trusted the Batman – enough to take his suggestion to question the Gambol family.

Gordon spoke again. "I also wanted to thank you for getting Dent away from the brawl last night."

A shrug. "That was nothing; I just drove him here."

Gordon politely disagreed. "That's not how my men describe it. They said you tried to convince Harvey not to go even before things turned ugly. And then you pulled him away as soon as it got violent. The officers appreciated the help."

Maybe Gordon wasn't giving up on him; instead, he was grasping at any positive action of Bruce's that he could find, no matter how small or inconsequential. Bruce mentally reproached himself for his self-pity. "Well, with Harvey they had their hands full," he dismissed the praise again with a light jab at Dent.

But it might have been the wrong thing to say, as Gordon paused for a moment then shook his head.

"Do you think it's safe for Harvey to go out right now?" Bruce switched topics as he thought back over the conversation. Nothing jumped out at him; he hadn't said anything that the Batman would say, so he didn't understand Gordon's odd reaction.

"It's probably not my smartest decision," Gordon was saying, "but I can understand his need to be involved." The detective paused, considering. "I think he's made it his mission to protect the Batman."

"What?" Bruce had been grateful for Harvey's bold dismissal of the Joker's blackmail for the past week, but hearing it articulated in that way - it was surprising.

Gordon elaborated. "The Joker wants him to turn on the Batman, so instead Dent's made himself the man's guardian."

"The Batman doesn't need protecting." That was the Batman's job, and he didn't need some well-intentioned amateur getting himself killed on his account.

He'd already had two killed for the exact same reason.

"He's just a man, Mr. Wayne," Gordon replied quietly.

"A man in Kevlar does not need to be protected by a man with a briefcase." Bruce's frustration bled into his rebuttal.

"Maybe not literally, no," Gordon acknowledged with a small smile. "Doesn't stop us from trying."

Gordon couldn't say he'd been surprised by Harvey's phone call last night. He'd expected Dent to be frustrated, but the level of anger Harvey was exhibiting this morning did not seem a normal reaction for last night's events. Of course, Gordon had to remind himself, he hadn't known Harvey all that long, and these were quite stressful circumstances.

Finally, Harvey turned from staring out the window and broke the silence that had engulfed the car ride. "Wayne's stopped helping us."

Gordon threw him a startled glance. That was unexpected – but it certainly explained Dent's foul mood. Still - "Did he say that?"

"I think he's scared of the Joker," Harvey continued his musings.

While any sane person would be afraid, Gordon did not believe for a second that Bruce Wayne would admit that. Pretend it, yes, admit it, no. "Did he say that?"

Harvey finally seemed to hear his question. "I asked him to publicly declare his support of the Batman - of me - and he declined."

"Why?" It didn't make sense.

"I didn't ask him. I'm tired of his games."

And the Joker's games. Gordon could almost hear the unspoken addition. And he himself didn't have a ready answer. He had to disagree with Dent, though. He didn't think Bruce Wayne would be afraid of the Joker. Maybe he should be, but a rich, powerful man like Wayne – who'd already experienced and survived real tragedy - Gordon didn't see the man quaking in his boots over the mere suggestion of danger.

However, Gordon did agree with Dent's other point; Wayne did like to play with Harvey's head. But even taking that into account, the billionaire had been extremely supportive and helpful the past couple of months. Even eager. And yet, for the last couple of weeks, the man had been sending out some pretty mixed signals.

It didn't make sense.