"Harvey, I really wish you'd asked my permission before you accepted this double date on our behalf," said Harley, as she tried to fix her hair in the cab mirror. "I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better just one on one before we allowed more people to pry into our relationship."
"You've already met Bruce and Vicki – they were at the fundraiser," said Dent. "And they're nice people who wanted to get to know you better. I thought you'd be pleased – I want to show you off to everyone I know, this wonderful woman who for some reason wants to hang around with me."
"You're sweet, Harvey," said Harley, smiling at him. "And I'm being silly, I know, but it's just…it's all moving a little fast for me. I barely know you, and now I'm having dinner with your lifelong friend – that's like meeting your family. It just seems like a big step."
"I can call Bruce and cancel…" began Dent, pulling out his phone.
"No, I don't want to ruin the evening," said Harley, intercepting his hand and smiling. "I'm just nervous, that's all. Bruce Wayne is Gotham's most prominent celebrity, and Vicki Vale is a star reporter. I'm afraid I'm just going to seem very boring by comparison."
"You could never be boring," said Dent with a grin. "If there's a lull in the conversation, I'm sure you have a few fascinating patients you could talk about."
"Not without breaking doctor-patient confidentiality," retorted Harley. "Which I'm not prepared to do."
"It was a joke, Harley," said Dent, kissing her cheek. "Just try to relax and loosen up. You have nothing to worry about."
Harley nodded, but her heart was pounding in her chest as the cab drove up the massive driveway to Wayne Manor. She checked her makeup again, hoping it looked all right – she hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights. Jack's image and voice kept barging their way into her head, and the thought of him robbed her of rest. Probably through fear, her brain reminded her – she had every right to be afraid of an awful man like that. And although she tried to repress it, as Professor Crane had often said, fear was involuntary, and there was nothing you could do to control it.
Dent helped her out of the cab and up the steps to the manor – the door was opened by an elderly, well-dressed man. "Alfred, may I introduce Dr. Harleen Quinzel?" said Dent, gesturing at her. "Harley, this is Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's family butler for two generations."
"How do you do?" asked Harley, holding out her hand.
Alfred kissed it. "It's a pleasure, Dr. Quinzel," he said. "May I take your coat?"
"We're not late, are we?" asked Dent, as Alfred helped him off with his too.
"You are precisely on time as always, Mr. Dent," said Alfred. "Master Bruce and Miss Vale are in the dining room."
"Harley, it's so good to see you again!" exclaimed Bruce, standing up and embracing her as she entered. He kissed both her cheeks, and Harley had no idea how to respond except to smile nervously.
"Bruce, nice to see you," she murmured.
"You remember Vicki?" asked Bruce, gesturing at the attractive woman who stood up from the table to greet them.
"Yes, and I recognize her from the paper – I always read your columns," said Harley, smiling at Vicki.
"Clearly not the one from last week that said red was out, and pink was in as this season's hot color," retorted Vicki, eyeing Harley's red dress scornfully.
"Vicki, don't be catty," said Bruce. "I dated a woman like that once, and it's not an attractive quality. I think Harley looks enchanting."
"It's the same dress from the fundraiser the other week – I sorta only have one formal one," explained Harley. "I guess I need to expand my wardrobe now that I'm involved with the social set," she added with a nervous laugh.
"All that fashion stuff is made up anyway, isn't it, Vicki?" asked Dent, as he helped Harley into her seat.
"No more made up than the rest of the news," retorted Vicki, sitting back down. "At least it doesn't rely on so-called anonymous sources, aka imaginary friends."
"Well, if you want a scoop, why don't you get an anonymous source to speculate on Batman's identity?" asked Bruce.
"Because everyone's doing that," sighed Vicki. "I need to stand out from the other journalists, and the only way I can do that is by telling the truth."
"How very daring of you," said Dent, sarcastically. "I thought the job of a journalist was to discover the truth."
"The job of a journalist is to sell papers, Harvey," retorted Vicki. "The juicier the scoop, the better. The truth has nothing to do with it."
"That seems very cynical," said Harley.
"Just realistic," said Vicki, shrugging. "I suppose you think Harvey's job is to fight for justice?"
"Well…isn't it?" asked Harley.
Vicki laughed. "Oh God, is she for real?" she asked, turning to Dent. "She must be old enough to know how the world works by now!"
"My job is to fight for justice, Vicki," retorted Dent. "I'm sure Harley understands that sometimes that fight includes truces and compromises that aren't always comfortable. But it's all for the greater good."
"Keep telling yourself that, Harvey," snorted Vicki. "So you're a young, attractive, ambitious woman, huh?" she asked, turning back to Harley. "And you think sleeping with the DA will be your ticket to fame and fortune, right? I don't blame you – Bruce says you're stuck as a psychiatrist in the dump that is Arkham. I'd do anything to get outta there too."
"I actually love my job," said Harley, sincerely. "I love dealing with interesting patients, and hopefully helping them. And I'm not sleeping with Harvey," she added. "Not that it's any of your business."
"Oooh, awkward personal details!" exclaimed Vicki, her eyes shining. "My favorite! Why aren't you sleeping with him, if you don't mind my asking? Don't you think he's hot?"
"I'm not the kinda girl who sleeps with a guy before I get to know him," retorted Harley. "I'm sorry if that seems old-fashioned to you, but it just seems sensible to me. You don't want to accidentally go home with a serial killer, do you?"
"Well, you know Harvey's not a serial killer," replied Vicki. "There's no way he could be that and DA, with reporters covering his every move. Do you not think he's attractive? Are you not attracted to men? Do you prefer women?"
"No, I'm just…not ready to take our relationship any further yet," stammered Harley, taken aback by the aggressive questioning.
"Vicki, please, lay off," sighed Bruce. "I'm sorry, Harley, but she can get very excitable about any gossip that's fit to print, and some of which isn't."
"I'm just trying to figure out the relationship," said Vicki. "I think Harvey is attracted to the naïve innocence – that's rare in women in Gotham. But I'm trying to figure out what attracts Harley to him, if it's just his money and power, or if there's something more there."
"I really don't think it's any of your business," retorted Harley. "But since you ask, I really admire him, and all he's done for this city. Being a good man is very attractive."
"Oh God, not to me!" laughed Vicki. "A good man doesn't provide me with any gossip!"
"And you just engage in personal relationships to further your career?" asked Harley, skeptically.
"Well, that and the sex," said Vicki, shrugging. "A gal has needs, as I'm sure you know. Though clearly your libido isn't as rampant as mine if you haven't slept with Harvey yet. I don't really see what the point of dating him is without that, aside from the ambition thing, which I get. I mean, you went to medical school, right? Which means you have to have some ambition."
"Yes, it was to be a psychiatrist, which I've achieved," replied Harley.
"On your own merits, or did you convince your teachers to give you good grades in other ways?" asked Vicki.
"I'm not sure what you mean," said Harley, genuinely confused. "My mentor Jonathan Crane was very impressed by my work…"
"Was he?" asked Vicki, raising her eyebrows. "I might speak to him for a scoop, if you don't mind. And even if you do, I'll do it anyway. Freedom of press, you understand."
"Uh…sure," said Harley. "He's a very nice man – I'm sure he'll be happy to talk to you. But I doubt he'll be able to tell you anything scoop-worthy relating to me. I'm a pretty boring person."
She felt a headache coming on from the incessant questioning, and searched in her bag for some aspirin.
"Now see what you've done, Vicki?" demanded Dent. "Leave the poor girl alone, for goodness sake!"
"No, it's not her fault," said Harley, swallowing the aspirin. "I haven't been sleeping well lately. I have…a lot on my mind."
"If you're anxious because of Mr. Napier, I've had a word with him," said Dent. "He won't be pestering you again, so there's no need to be afraid of him."
"Who's this?" asked Vicki.
"A criminal threatened Harley in order to threaten me," explained Dent. "But I've taken care of it."
"Is that why you're not sleeping with him, Harley?" asked Vicki. "You're afraid if things get serious that the criminal will hurt you? That's a valid concern – I imagine getting involved with Harvey can put you in the firing line of a lot of unsavory people. It's a legitimate fear to think they'll probably try to hurt you to hurt him…"
"Vicki, shut up!" shouted Dent, standing up suddenly. "I said I've taken care of it, and I have! Nobody is going to hurt Harley! I won't let them! And that includes nosy, busybody reporters who can't keep their mouths shut! Don't make me get a gag order, if I don't just break your jaw instead!"
Everyone was taken aback by the rage in his voice, and his body language, which threatened actual violence. It was like seeing a different man standing there, so twisted and furious was Dent's face.
The tense atmosphere was broken by Alfred entering the room. "Soup's ready, everyone," he announced, putting down the tray.
"Thank God - gazpacho," sighed Bruce. "It was getting a little too hot in here, and this is just the thing to cool everyone down!" he said, laughing at his own joke.
Everyone else laughed too, including Harley, although it was a nervous laugh on her part. The conversation remained pleasant and light-hearted throughout the rest of the meal. But Harley couldn't unsee the monstrous image of Dent – every time she looked at him, she was reminded of what the rage had turned him into. It was something she could never forget.