I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Rated PG-13 : language; violence, some mature concepts.
Reviews are greatly appreciated.
The party was already in full swing when they arrived. Bruce scanned the room as he handed his coat to one of the staff Gordon had hired for the evening, instantly picking out Kathy and Gilda in close conversation against the far wall, Jim Gordon talking to a few other high-ranking officials near the buffet, several more of his society friends and police acquaintances. A nice crowd, catering to both sides of his life - the playboy millionaire and the crime-fighter.
Dick was at his elbow, looking around with a decidedly self-conscious expression on his face. "Look, there's Kathy," he said.
"I know. Let's say hello." After a step, Bruce held him back with a touch. "The woman with her is Harvey Dent's fiancée. Just so you know."
"I understand."
It ended up taking longer than he thought to make their way across the crowded room, as Bruce stopped several times to say hello, to introduce Dick, and to exchange a few polite remarks. As they approached, Kathy was waiting, watching them, a smile on her face.
"Hi, I see you made it," she said. "And I see you've already gotten a sample of Gotham society, Dick."
"Yeah. I feel like I've just been thrown into the pool. Sink or swim."
"I hope you remember everyone's name. There'll be a quiz later."
"I'll flunk for sure."
"Hello, Gilda, how are you?" Bruce asked. The question felt awkward, asked of a woman who looked exhausted, unhappy, and whose makeup didn't quite cover reddened, puffy eyes.
"Fine," she said, with a pathetic attempt at a smile. Kathy put an arm around her.
"Gilda, this is Dick Grayson," Bruce went on. "Dick, Gilda Grace."
"Hi." Dick smiled as they shook hands. "I don't know many people here in Gotham yet, so I'm really glad to meet you."
She smiled perfunctorily again. "How long have you been here?"
"About two years. But you know what the big city's like. Hard to make friends." He glanced at Bruce with a brief smile. Dick had made friends before, all right, friends with the mobsters and thieves he had been forced to associate with when he infiltrated Anthony Zucco's gang in an attempt to find justice for his parents' murders. An attempt which had succeeded, thanks only in part to Batman's help. "So I've been looking forward to this. Seems like a nice bunch of people."
"They are."
"I guess you know everyone here. Maybe you could tell me all their names again, and something about them. I'm kinda lost..."
"Well, I don't know everyone... let's see..."
Kathy drew Bruce slightly away and smiled up at him. When she spoke, it was very softly, so only he would hear. "Your friend's a fast worker," she murmured.
"What do you mean?"
"In less than a minute he's distracted Gilda and gotten her talking, and thinking, about something besides Harvey. Watch out, he'll take away your title as the most charming bachelor in Gotham."
"I'm not worried. How have you been?"
"Mmm, keeping busy... you?"
He shrugged. "The same." He moved a little closer, enough to catch a faint and subtle whiff of perfume. "How's Gilda holding up?" he asked.
"Not too well." The note of teasing was gone from Kathy's voice. "Bruce... have you talked to Harvey in the last couple of days?"
"Yes. I heard he was back at work, called him there yesterday."
"How did he sound to you?"
"Well... he's depressed, I guess. I asked him to come tonight, but he... he said no. Why?"
"I have a bad feeling. The times I called him, he sounded so strange, and he wouldn't talk for more than a minute. Wouldn't let me come over."
Bruce frowned. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Give him time, he's had a big shock."
"I know. But most people would be trying to get closer to their friends and family at a time like this, not pushing them away."
"Maybe." He shifted uncomfortably.
"Have you thought..." She hesitated. "From what Gilda said about how he acted when she went over there... It didn't sound sane."
"What are you getting at?"
"Maybe we should do something. Get him to see a shrink or something."
"I don't think he'd like that idea, and we can't force him. Look, I'll give him another call tomorrow. But let's not talk about it right now."
"Whatever." She cut off whatever she might have been about to add as Gilda appeared at her side.
"Kath, I'm heading for the ladies' room."
"Okay, I'm coming. See you guys in a few." With the flash of a quick, over-bright smile, she was walking away, her head bent close to Gilda's.
"I wonder why women always go to the can in groups?" Dick asked, watching them wind their way across the room. "Some kind of primal instinct?"
Bruce snorted. "I think they just like to talk in there."
"About what?"
"Us, probably." Dick laughed, a sound which quickly faded. Bruce looked up to find him staring intently into the crowd. "What is it?" he asked.
"Who's that?"
Bruce followed his gaze, and then relaxed with a chuckle as he realized what - or rather who - Dick was staring at so raptly. She did catch the eye, he had to admit, with gleaming, shoulder-length red hair, a pretty, bright-eyed face, and a trim figure. He might have been interested himself, if she was a little older and not the daughter of a friend...
"That is Barbara Gordon," he answered. "She's been away at college, just came back for good a few weeks ago. First time I've seen her in two or three years. She's all grown up."
"I'll say..." Dick suddenly glanced up at him with a look of dismay. "You mean Commissioner Gordon is her old man?"
"He's her father, yes. But don't worry..." Bruce gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. "He probably won't have you arrested for thinking his daughter's pretty."
"Oh, great, that's a relief."
"He'll just have you shot if you touch her. Come on, I'll introduce you."
Barbara was at her father's side by the time they got close, sipping a drink and looking around with a hint of nervousness. She had been living out of town for the last four years, Bruce reminded himself. Outside of a few old friends, she probably didn't know many people here tonight, and almost certainly wasn't dating anyone. All the better for Dick; it was about time he had a social life beyond Bruce, Alfred, and assorted members of Gotham's underworld.
"Jim," he greeted Gordon. "Great party."
"Glad you're enjoying it. And always nice to see you." Gordon offered him a firm handshake. "You remember Barbara, don't you?"
"Little Babs. Not so little anymore."
Barbara tilted her head with a surprisingly impish grin. "And I remember you, Uncle Bruce."
"Hmmm. Anyway, this is Dick Grayson, my new assistant at Wayne Enterprises. Dick, James Gordon and Barbara Gordon."
"I've seen you on the news, Commissioner Gordon. It's an honor," Dick said as they shook hands, and then transferred his attention to Barbara. "And... uh... it's a pleasure."
"Me, too." Their eyes met, and locked. First Barbara smiled, and then Dick.
Bruce hid his own smile as Gordon glanced up at him and raised a brow. "C'mon, Jim, I'll buy you a drink," he said.
"College. Boyfriends. Before I know it, she'll be married and I'll be a grandfather," Gordon was muttering a few minutes later, as they watched Dick and Barbara still deep in conversation.
"Feeling old?"
"Bet your ass. Who is this kid, anyway? What's he like? Is he - umm...?"
"Good enough for Barbara? I've known him for several months now. His parents died years ago, he grew up with no family and no money, worked hard, made something of himself. He's only been able to afford a couple of college courses here and there, but he's bright, and I'm trying to encourage him to go back. He's got a good job now, and - well - he's a good kid. I like him."
After a penetrating look at Bruce's face, all Gordon said was, "I guess that's good enough for me. How are you and Kathy doing?"
Taken momentarily off-guard by the change in subject, Bruce shrugged and raised his glass to hide his reaction, even as his eyes raised reflexively to scan the crowd for her. "We're still friends, if that's what you mean." Kathy was emerging from a door at the far side, Gilda beside her. They stopped, looking in the direction of the front entrance.
"Glad to hear it, but that's not what I meant. A blind man could see you two are still crazy about each other. At least, she is. It's harder to tell with you."
"I'm not the one who walked out." It came out more bitter than he had intended. Still watching Kathy, Bruce noticed a few other people looking in the same direction. A hush seemed to be falling over the crowd.
"When you're my age, my boy, you'll realize that the great secret of dealing with women is to realize they're always right... that whatever goes wrong, it's your fault."
Bruce lowered his glass, staring. People were stepping back, away from the entrance, parting to open a pathway between them. He heard gasps, saw hands pressed to mouths, expressions almost of horror...
"What the hell..." he muttered. Gordon turned to look.
There was a man walking down that aisle between two walls of shocked faces. He had moved clear of them before Bruce could get a clear look, his head turned so that only the right side of his face was visible, a face so familiar in this setting that he had a momentary wave of déjà vu. Until the man stopped and turned fully towards them.
"Harvey?" he had been saying, when the word froze in his throat. "Oh, my God," he whispered, unable to stop himself.
The bandage was gone, and what it had hidden was clearly visible. The left side of Harvey's face was covered in masses of thickened, distorted, obscenely pink scar tissue, as if his skin had melted and been refrozen, the disfigurement doubly shocking in contrast to the still-handsome right side. Bruce swallowed, fighting a surge of nausea. It was only scars, he reminded himself. Only surface. But Harvey's remembered words mocked him as he struggled not to show his reaction... 'How much of what we are depends on what we look like? How much of how other people see us?'
Harvey caught sight of them. He grinned, an angry and twisted expression which only made him seem more grotesque. "Bruce! How nice to see you looking so good. And Jim. Thanks so much for the invitation. Lovely party. Great food. Hope I don't make anyone lose their appetite."
"Nice to see you too, Harvey," Bruce managed to say. "Are you - feeling okay?"
"Never better, Brucie old pal! Haven't felt this way in... well, ever!" He smiled, more quietly and more ominously. "I'm a whole new man." With a humorless laugh he added, "Or two halves of a whole!"
"Uh - why don't you have a drink, Harvey?" Gordon said, ignoring a warning glance from Bruce.
"Don't mind if I do. I'll have a Scotch." He leaned on the bar and added with another loud laugh, "Make it a double! Get it? Double!"
"Harvey, how much have you had to drink already?" Bruce asked.
"Why, not a thing. You don't think I'd do something as stupid as drive drunk, do you? Not when I'm going to see all my old friends! My buds! My gang! My crew! Just look at all of them!" His voice rose to a shout. "It's like watching a train wreck, isn't it? It makes you sick, but you just can't look away!"
"Harvey, please..."
"Let them stare, Jimbo, what else am I here for? Let them stare and thank God they're not me." Harvey's eyes raised and moved over the crowd. "Ah, Barbara. Back from college and looking lovely. Already got a boyfriend? And a good-looking one, of course." A glance showed Dick taking Barbara's arm, frowning, as she pressed a hand to her mouth. "Speaking of lovely, where's my lovely fiancée? Has she found a good-looking boyfriend yet?"
"I'm here, Harvey." The voice was very faint, and trembled pitifully. Slowly, Gilda emerged from the press of people and came closer, step by step, as if pulled by an invisible string against the force of her obvious fear and distress. Kathy was behind her.
"Ah, Gilda. Nice dress. Enjoying the party?"
"Please, let me take you home."
"Home? Why? We're all having such a good time!"
"Harvey, you're not well."
"Whatever do you mean? Why, I'm twice the man I used to be!" He laughed again, the sound of it setting Bruce's hair on end.
"I just think..." She gulped, her eyes finding Bruce's in a silent plea.
"Maybe it's a little too soon for this, Harvey," Bruce said quietly. "Gilda's right, we'll take you home."
"Et tu, Brucie? Okay, tell you what." Harvey dipped a hand in his pocket, brought it out, and opened it to reveal a large silver coin. "I'll flip you for it."
"What's that?" Gordon asked.
"My good luck piece. It's part of what made me what I am today. Heads - the good head-" He held it up, showing the smoothly gleaming head of a silver dollar, "-and I go home like a good boy. Heads - the other head-" he turned it, revealing what at first glance was the same image - but now marred by deep, jagged scratches, "-and I get to stay - have fun, get drunk, kiss the girls and make them cry..."
"That looks like Boss Moroni's lucky coin," Gordon said.
"It is, Jimbo, it is." Harvey grinned, and with a quick movement tossed it into the air. It spun in an arc, up and then down, catching the light in a glittering trail.
"That's official police evidence. What's it doing here?"
"It's mine now. Heads!" Harvey cried happily as the coin smacked into his palm. He held it out. "But not the one all of you want." The scarred side was facing up.
"Give it to me, Harvey."
"Give you my coin? I need it more than you do." He turned it in his fingers. "It's like me now... Two faces, handsome and hideous, good and evil, like the two of me..."
"Look, Harvey..." Gordon glanced around and lowered his voice. "I understand you've been under a strain. Give me the coin, go home quietly, and I won't have you charged with stealing police property."
"How big of you. If you want to return some stolen property..." Harvey was off the barstool in a flash, reaching to grab Gilda's left arm as she flinched back. "I think this belongs to me. You won't be needing it anymore." He twisted her arm up and grabbed at the engagement ring twinkling on her finger as she cried out in pain and dismay.
"Let her go!" Gordon, Bruce, Dick, and Kathy all reacted, but Gordon got there first, pulling Harvey off Gilda with a sharp yank. "Get out!" he shouted, pushing him back.
The fury on Harvey's face was so overwhelming, so bizarre, it held Bruce back for a moment. Maybe it stopped all of them, just long enough. Harvey lashed out, his fist connecting with Gordon's face with a sharp smack. The older man collapsed at his feet. Bruce and Dick both surged forward. And then stopped cold. Bruce stared into the small round blackness at the end of the barrel of the pistol Harvey was holding, raising his hands and stepping back as the gun swept from him to Dick and on around to send a ripple of gasps and smothered screams over the party-goers.
"So much for friendship!" Harvey snarled. "And so much for love and loyalty!" He glared at Gilda, now sobbing in Kathy's protective grasp. "There's no place for me in your world anymore, but don't worry, I'll find another place. Somewhere so ugly and warped that I'll fit right in!"
He backed up, holding them back with the pistol, until he reached the French windows opening into the garden in back of the house and vanished through them. Gilda and a couple of other people were already bending over Gordon. Bruce gave Dick a glance, saw him nod slightly, and quickly melted into the press of milling bodies, heading for the front door.
The night outside seemed dark and quiet after the bright lights and the drama they had left behind. They found a secluded spot amid the trees and changed swiftly, through long practice managing it in less than a minute. And just in time, as they ran into the open Batman caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure, the glint of metal in his hand as he headed for a car. Harvey's car.
"Harvey Dent! Stop right where you are!"
"Who...?" Several yards away, Harvey stopped and turned. A patch of moonlight caught his distorted face as he backed away, the gun held ready. "Batman? I'm flattered. But I won't let you stop me."
"Put the gun down." Batman took a step closer. "You're a DA. A lawman. Why are you doing this?"
"You can ask that? Look what being a lawman has done to me!"
"It was Moroni who did it."
"And now I've become like him... or half of me has..."
"Harvey, stop!"
But he had turned and was running again. He was almost at the car, no way to stop him in time... as Harvey started to slam the door a dark form darted out of the bushes and yanked at the handle, trying to pull it back open; black and midnight blue in the moonlight as Harvey kicked out, catching him in the chest and knocking him down. Nightwing was back on his feet almost immediately, leaping at the roof of the car as it began to move. He seemed to find a hold, and clung for a few seconds until the car swerved sharply as it picked up speed, sending him flying into a tree trunk.
"Nightwing!" Batman shouted, and ran to him, seeing him stir and push himself into a sitting position by the time he got there. "Damn it, what were you trying to do, get yourself killed?" Relief sharpened his voice into anger.
"Sorry. I should have stopped him."
"Both of us should have stopped him." Batman took a few steps down the driveway, watching the car disappearing as it turned onto the main street. "He'll be on the highway in seconds; no way we can catch him now."
"Are you all right?" A look back showed Batwoman had arrived, a little late, and was helping Nightwing to his feet.
"Yeah, I'm fine." But he looked shaken and disappointed.
"What now?" she asked. "Look for Harvey at home?"
"The police will look," Batman answered. "But he won't be there. He's too smart to be caught in the obvious places."
"What can we do to help him?"
"I don't know."
She sighed. "Then I guess we should get back to the party. Make sure Gilda and Jim Gordon are okay." Batman shot her a glance, ready to deny he knew what she was talking about, but she was already gone, fading into the trees.
Nightwing was staring into the darkness. "You know Harvey pretty well," he said. "Where do you think he's gone? What do you think he's going to do?"
"I don't know. But I have a feeling we'll find out soon."
TBC...
