EPISODE 2: The Well-To-Do of Gotham

The blinding light of a camera flash hit Bruce's face as he exited his Rolls-Royce. Bruce hated parties. The thought of spending an entire evening that could have been used to clean up the distressed streets of Gotham on small talk and champagne ate away at him. But these parties were an invaluable aid to his one-man war on crime. Being a product of Gotham's aristocracy gave Bruce a certain number of advantages when it came to taking down criminals in the city. Parties like these were one of them. Bruce would find himself standing elbow to elbow with some of the most influential people in Gotham. Millionaires, property owners, factory managers, police commissioners, and local celebrities were almost regularly in attendance at such meetings. And all of these individuals unwittingly provided Bruce Wayne intelligence to continue his efforts. Had Bruce not heard from Michael Hodgins, the owner of the transformer factory in North Gotham, that his workers were gravitating towards a man called "Black Mask", Bruce would have never been able to expose Roman Sionis and his money laundering scheme. It was a win for Bruce and it was a win for the city. Parties like these were a necessary evil; a dull, boring tactic that functioned as a key component to Bruce's larger mission.

Bruce reflected on the nature of these events as he glided into the main foyer. In one word, it was garish. A colossal crystal chandelier dangled dangerously from the ceiling. It was framed by a pair of white staircases with gold railings that mirrored the stair's curved shape. The walls were white with gold accents, calling on almost heavenlike imagery. People were tightly packed into the room wearing all sorts of different colored clothing. As Bruce tried to maneuver his way through the crowd he passed a red dress, then a black suit, a purple overcoat, and a grey pinstriped outfit until he was utterly lost in the shuffle of all of the people.

Bruce didn't like this aspect of parties either. While thousands of Gothamites were starving tonight, these few hundred people could order whatever they wanted to eat. The thought made Bruce's stomach turn. Before he could think about it any further, Bruce's thoughts were interrupted.

"Brucey! How are you doing you old dog?" Harvey Dent came through a pack of people to greet his long time friend.

"Harvey. So good to see you." Bruce responded politely.

"You having anything to drink tonight, Bruce? I see you've got a pair of empty hands." Harvey said to him, his face beaming.

"Let's change that, Harvey." Bruce said, his voice oozing charisma. The two men slipped through the gaps between people as they made their way towards the champagne. Bruce completely forgot about Harvey. The two of them had gone to college together, as they were the only two kids from Gotham in their Yale dormitory. They saw in each other the passion for justice and they immediately hit it off. Bruce and Harvey remained good friends for the next fifteen years despite Bruce's strange schedule. In fact, Harvey was influential in establishing the Wayne Foundation, an organization in which much of the profits of Wayne Industries were siphoned off into various charities and non-profit organizations. Harvey had been nagging Bruce to finally establish such an organization after Bruce had expressed interest in doing so for years. Harvey was a tall man, taller than Bruce even, and better looking too, though Bruce would never give Harvey the satisfaction of knowing that. Harvey knew it though. He had seen the way women looked at him ever since he was a teenager. They went crazy for his blonde hair and strong brown eyes, which commanded the respect of anyone who looked into them.

Finally, Bruce and Harvey secured their drinks and slipped into a quieter room in the house to talk.

"How've you been, Bruce? I haven't seen you since the last time Richards threw one of these." Harvey asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes. Bruce smiled at him for a moment and took a sip of his champagne.

"I've been doing well. Running the foundation has been rough given all that's going on. So many people have lost so much recently. It's hard to see it every day." Bruce said.

"And night?" Harvey asked, his tone rising. "You look absolutely exhausted."

"Night's too, yeah." Bruce said.

"Well why don't I help you out? I've got some spare time at night. Maybe I could lighten the load a little bit." Harvey asked out of genuine concern for his friend. He looked tired. And if Harvey wasn't mistaken, it looked as if Bruce was recovering from a black eye. Bruce chuckled.

"Harvey, has the office of District Attorney not been a big enough challenge for you?" He smiled wider still. "Trust me, I can handle this."

"Sure, sure. Okay, Bruce. I'll let you handle it." Harvey said with a little relief as the melancholy of his old friend seemed to have lifted a little.

"Anything new and exciting on your end of things?" Bruce asked with a cautious smile. Harvey was always a great aid to him when it came to crime trends. His job required him to be on top of the latest movements in Gotham.

"Actually…yes." Harvey replied. "There's a new guy on the block. He's paying guys lots of money to operate a weapons dealing business. I guess he's got some sort of family inheritance he's using as an initial investment. We're catching his people with crates full of…full of guns. I don't know where he's getting them, but he's got all kinds of clientele. People don't feel safe around Gotham anymore and they're defending themselves by buying more guns from an illegal weapons dealer, which is only making things worse." Harvey said. Bruce thought back to the other night. When he kicked the man who was attacking that woman, a machine gun flew out of his hands. That's where it came from.

"Wow, Harvey. That's just sad to hear. Crime breeding more crime. How are you holding up?" Bruce asked.

"I'm fine. The wife is worried sick though. She said one day she might start taking them out all herself!" Harvey said chucking at the thought. The two exchanged some more laughs until an older, shorter man in a brown trench coat tapped Harvey on the shoulder. Harvey turned around to greet his colleague.

"Gordon! Nice to see you finally show up to one of these." Harvey said with a smile. Gordon's face did not match the man sitting down in front of him. His brow was furrowed so tensely that it looked as if it were stuck there permanently. Two large black frames sat on either side of Jim Gordon's wide nose reflecting the twinkling lights from the chandelier back at Harvey and Bruce who were sitting opposite each other on a set of sofas in front of Gordon.

"I'm not here to party, Harvey. We've got some major developments with this Penguin fellow we need to talk to you about it."

"That's what they're calling him now?" Harvey said while laughing. "That's great."

"Just come on." Gordon said gruffly.

"Sorry, Bruce. I've got to run. Let's try and meet up somewhere other than these phony parties, okay?" Harvey said as he got up to head off with Gordon.

"I'd love nothing more." Bruce said as he raised his glass to his friend. As his glass descended Bruce looked around and didn't see anyone he cared to talk to.

"At least Harvey doesn't like these things either." He said to himself. Bruce got up and began walking towards the towering doors at the front of the party. He made small talk with a few friendly waitresses and eventually slipped out into the cold evening air without a trace. He had all he needed. Harvey had once again provided him enough information to start his investigation of "the Penguin".