Lucius watched as Bruce Wayne entered his office. He had a feeling he knew what Mr. Wayne was going to ask of him. He'd been firm with him once, but since he'd let Miss Dawes talk him into a one-time use, now Mr. Wayne was coming in to make another attempt to have him bend his morals.

"The answer is no, Mr. Wayne."

His employer did not look deterred. "You did it for Rachel."

"The ADA made a convincing argument."

Bruce smiled, holding up a folder. "And if the district attorney made one?"

Lucius took it but didn't open it. "How does Mr. Dent know that this technology exists?"

Bruce paused; Lucius lifted an eyebrow. "You told him who you are?"

"Actually, our man Coleman Reese figured it out. And then decided to tattle to Dent."

Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. "Mr. Reese. Well, I did tell him to do his due diligence; I guess he went overboard."

"It is impressive, but if you could persuade him not to blab to anyone else..."

Lucius smiled and dipped his head. Then he looked at the folder for a long moment. "And Mr. Dent wants me to spy on all of Gotham just so you can throw another unarmed man off a roof?" He had watched the Batman's actions that night. And while he understood the motivation, that type of vigilantism was not what he'd signed up for.

A muscle twitched in Bruce's jaw. Then he sighed. "I won't be doing that again."

Good. He'd hoped for that answer. But, he acknowledged to himself as he placed the file down, it didn't change his answer. "I still won't do it. I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but that's too much power."

"Read the documents. Harvey and I thought about your concerns, I promise."

"He's made the illegal spying of 30 million citizens ethical?"

"Well, less unethical."

..

Gordon's eyes followed Harvey as he paced. Back and forth from Gordon's living room to his kitchen and back again. Which admittedly wasn't much of a walk but still. He was definitely agitated. Gordon had sent Barbara and the kids out of town, and so it had just been him for the past couple of days. Even so, the dishes were piling up, and right now Gordon was tempted to make Harvey do them, if only to save himself a crick in the neck. And give Harvey a distraction.

But it wasn't a distraction Harvey needed. He needed to talk it through again.

"We don't have to do this, Harvey."

That stopped his pacing. Harvey gripped the back of a kitchen chair tightly for a moment. "It's the best option we have."

"But you're giving up a lot, and it still might not work."

Harvey released his death grip. "If it doesn't work, we're not giving up anything, I'm not budging on that." He heaved himself into the chair. "If it does, we'll just have to hope Maroni continues to break the law." A smile. "I'm reasonably sure he's not that reformed. And we'll get him then."

Gordon hesitated. But he had to say it; he owed it to the man. "I doubt Ramirez was the only one Maroni has in my unit."

"Well, I doubt that, too." Harvey paused. He drummed his fingers softly against the tabletop. "But none of this could have been accomplished without you, Gordon. I mean that."

Which wasn't true, but it was incredibly nice of him to say. "Thank you, Harvey."

Harvey glanced around, obviously as eager to change the subject as he was.

"So, why a bat?"

It took Gordon a minute to realize it hadn't been a rhetorical question. Why? "You think I know?"

"All this time, you've never asked him?"

Gordon shrugged. "Bats are nocturnal, he works at night."

Dent rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure that was the entire thought process."

A rap on the back door interrupted them. Gordon shot over and let the object of their conversation in, a body slumped over his shoulder.

They'd planned the meeting here. The Joker didn't seem to be targeting Gordon at all, so the chances of him having it watched were slim. It seemed the best guarantee of secrecy. And the Batman had promised to make sure no one followed him.

Gordon just hadn't realized that meant drugging the mob boss. It reminded Gordon of when the Bat had delivered Lau from Hong Kong, a seeming lifetime ago.

…

Maroni groaned as he woke up. Something was definitely wrong. He remembered exiting the nightclub and then- his eyes shot open. Or, tried to. It took a long minute before he regained enough control of his body to force his eyelids to even manage a flutter.

"Take it easy," a quiet voice he now realized he could recognize instantly told him. "We don't quite know if there are any side effects."

"To whatever your psychotic mascot shot me up with?" He eased himself to a sitting position…on the lieutenant's sofa. Huh. He looked around the cop's house. He'd always known he'd made the right decision to follow a life of crime.

Jim Gordon and Harvey Dent were sitting across from him, the Batman nowhere to be seen. "Well, isn't this cozy?"

"Sorry about that, but we thought you'd prefer a guarantee you weren't followed. And the Batman thought this the best solution."

Maroni's attention snagged on the first part of Gordon's explanation. "I'd prefer?"

Dent spoke up for the first time. "Drop the innocent act, Sally. You know you wanted this meeting."

"Personally, I get enough of you in court."

"Then walk out the door right now," Dent challenged.

He really wished the Joker had taken Dent out when he'd had the chance. Maroni rearranged his tie. "Well, you went to all this trouble, I'm curious to know what you want."

"We want the Joker."

As always, Lieutenant Gordon drove straight to the heart of the matter. "And why would I want to help with that?" But Maroni wasn't above playing a little coy himself.

Dent's lips twisted into that smug courtroom smirk he loved so much. "You'd pass up the chance to be the last game in town? Practically legitimate?"

"Until I'm convicted on your trumped-up RICO charges."

There was a pause, Dent's smirk turning into a grimace, although he didn't look surprised. Maroni sat back and waited.

Finally Dent cleared his throat. "We're prepared to offer immunity."

Maroni smiled at the words he'd been waiting to hear ever since he'd ordered Ramirez to warn Gordon about the bomb.

He was about to own all of Gotham's underbelly, courtesy of District Attorney Harvey Dent.

…

Harvey couldn't sleep that night.

It wasn't just nerves. He was the district attorney; he'd had years of experience with nerves the night before a big case, before a debate, before election day – and he had the same amount of years learning how to differentiate between nerves and gut feeling. And his gut said something was off.

But they'd gotten everything they wanted. Maroni had agreed to the immunity deal, had agreed to set up a meeting and thus lead them to the Joker. And Lucius Fox had agreed to help with the crazy sonar technology of Wayne's.

It was kind of scary all that Bruce Wayne had access to. Or rather, what he had the ability and means to create. After Bruce had described the technology to them, Harvey understood the reservations Fox had. That was too powerful, too invasive. But then Bruce had offered very specific parameters for its use, stating that they were the only way Fox would agree to help. And he'd promised to destroy the technology after the Joker was captured. So Harvey had made it legal, with all the accompanying paperwork to that effect - papers that just would or would not see the light of day depending on the outcomes. So, you know, vaguely legal, but still.

So, if it wasn't the use of the technology that was bothering him, what was it? Maroni?

Was Sally going to double-cross them? It was a possibility. But if he was, he'd more than likely be trying to get the Batman killed, and to do that he would lead the Batman to the Joker, which was what they wanted anyway. And with Fox's technology, which Maroni didn't know about, they should be able to find the Joker before he or Maroni would be expecting it. So, they were prepared for a potential double-cross. But Harvey really doubted it. No matter what, Harvey was pretty certain Maroni wanted the Joker dead, if only for his own safety. Plus the immunity on the table was too good for Maroni to want to jeopardize, and Harvey had stipulated that it if the Joker wasn't caught, immunity went away. So it wasn't that.

Were they underestimating the Joker? Maybe. Probably. But what could they change about their strategy? If they sent in Gordon's unit first when they found the Joker's location, would they really have a better chance at capturing the Joker than the Batman did? None of them had thought so. And in the amount of time it would take for them to converge on the Joker's location, he would be sure to disappear. The Batman going after him first was the smart play.

So what was it? Their plan was decent, Wayne had the technology and ability to see it through, and Harvey could practically taste their success. This was it. They were a day away from capturing the Joker.

He stopped cold.

The Joker.

In all their talk, they'd discussed the ways to take the Joker down, to capture him. Gordon was an honest cop, the Batman seemed to follow some rules, and Harvey had been itching to destroy the Joker in court. They all hoped to capture the Joker alive.

But the Joker knew the Batman's identity. He could destroy Bruce Wayne's life. Right now, he was just playing with the information, having fun at Harvey and Bruce and all of Gotham's expense.

But imprisoned, with no games left to play but one? The Joker would be more dangerous to the Batman behind bars than he'd ever been free.

Harvey stared at the spot where the Joker had sat in his apartment, a vial of Bruce Wayne's blood in his hands, eager to see Harvey betray the only hero Gotham had ever known.

Hero.

Harvey remembered the conversation he had had in Wayne's restaurant, with Rachel, Natascha, and Bruce, long before he'd ever had an inkling Bruce was anything other than an empty-headed playboy.

Harvey stood up. After all, the Joker had deferred the decision to Harvey. And he made his own luck.

…

Stephens staggered out of bed and went to answer his door. If he'd had a hundred guesses, he didn't think he'd ever have foreseen Harvey Dent standing at his doorstep in the dead of night.

"Stephens," Harvey didn't offer any other greeting. "Either you're in Maroni's pocket or you're an honest cop. Either way, you want the Joker taken down."

So that was how Harvey Two-Face Dent greeted a policeman. Figured. "I am an honest cop," Stephens snapped back. "And yeah, I want the Joker."

Harvey nodded. "Then I need your help."

..

Gordon thought he would spend the day worrying himself to death over the meetup Maroni was arranging with the Joker that evening.

But instead, he barely had time to remember it. First came the search of Thomas Schiff's apartment. Inside they had found plenty of evidence tying him to the Joker (which he had already confessed to): bomb-making materials, guns, clown masks…and a hospital uniform.

That had put them on high alert. He and Commissioner Loeb had been in agreement this time. With such little information to go on, mass evacuation of every hospital in Gotham was deemed unwise. So Gordon had to organize effective but discreet searches, hoping they didn't tip the Joker off and so have him execute whatever his plan was before they had a chance to disrupt it.

They worked tirelessly, but as day turned into evening, they still hadn't found anything. The bomb-sniffing dogs (quickly disguised as sweet, adorable therapy dogs) hadn't alerted in any of the hospitals. So far, the personnel in all of them were checking out, and security tapes weren't showing any unusual activity the past few days.

Maybe they were ahead of the Joker this time. Gordon held onto the hope as his phone rang.

Mr. Fox's voice was in his ear. "He's in the Prewitt building. The Batman's already there."

Gordon relayed the directions to his detectives. Despite having been kept in the dark about the potential of finding the Joker this night, Gordon was proud of how quickly his men snapped to the new orders. But even so, there was still a great scramble of confusion as he barked out his commands. He even had to yell at Stephens to get off his phone and get out there.

..

The Batman hated dogs. Loathed, despised, abominated them. He'd taken down practically dozens of the Joker's goons with relative ease, but then the Joker had released his hounds as he'd scampered away. The Batman swore he was never crying during Old Yeller ever again.

The Rottweilers were on him, jaws trying to find purchase through the armor. Baring his own teeth, he fumbled for a collar and heaved one away. His right arm free from the canine, he punched the other offending mutt then sent it to meet its buddy.

The Joker's knives sliced in, along with a metal bar being wielded like a baseball bat. Some parries, several punches, and the Bat was able to shove him off.

But then the sonar tech in his lenses glitched and he was blinded for a few moments. One moment too long.

The Joker slammed the metal bar into him and he crashed through a window out onto the ledge.

As the Bat struggled to get up, the Joker casually strolled toward him, pulling a small grey device out of his pocket.

..

Gordon raced up the stairs, but it was slower going than he would have liked as he and SWAT came across all the henchmen that the Bat had laid out.

The Batman seemed to be pretty angry.

..

The Bat didn't hesitate, didn't let him start the posturing threats. He jerked his arm up, unleashing the blades on his gauntlet. The Joker flinched away from the attack and another blow had the detonator clattering to the ground. His next shove knocked the Joker over the ledge.

He wanted to, but he'd promised too many people. Including himself. Snarling, he fired the cable.

..

At last he found him.

The Batman was hunched halfway on the ground, catching his breath as he tried to clamber to his feet.

It was the most vulnerable Gordon had ever seen the man when he was in the armor. But he just held a hand up as Gordon started to approach him.

"I'm fine," he growled. Then he jerked his head to the ledge. "We got him."

There, swaying upside down from some cable twisted around his feet, was the Joker.

It was over.

.

They escorted the Joker between them, Gordon throwing a piercing look at his detectives, daring them to object. The Batman was the only one who had a right to this moment. No one else. The clown kept talking to the Bat as they went down the stairs, muttering on and on about unstoppable forces and immoveable objects and how he and the Batman completed each other.

Gordon ignored it. They'd just won. The euphoria was sweeping through the police securing the building, savage cheers breaking out as he and the Batman stepped out with the Joker.

It was glorious.

Gordon couldn't contain the grin, exchanging a satisfied glance with the Batman. His partner.

Through the wails of the approaching sirens and the cheers and applause of Gotham PD, the sound was hard to distinguish. Gordon's training identified the noise in seconds, not that it made a difference.

Because the Joker was already sagging backwards into the Batman, his chest staining red.