PART TWO

Jessica Fletcher? Really?

Harvey sat back in his seat at the desk and tried to forget the entire case of the day, tipping his hat over his face and heard Jim scuffling around him with paperwork.

"I know this has been a weird day, Harvey, but you've gotta help me out here."

The homicide detective gave a small groan and decided it would be cruel to leave all the work to Jim, especially after the entire ordeal he had gone through with Oswald only a month prior.

"How is he, anyway?" asked Harvey, trying to make decent conversation, although his day had been a mess, and he just wanted to go home and drink.

"Recovering." Jim replied, in an even more done with today tone than Harvey, and the two got down to scribbling notes and signatures and other irrelevant pieces of information on files and documents of the day's strange case.

He knew Jim was avoiding a particular topic of conversation that concerned Harvey and a certain snake dancer's son, and the older detective felt incredibly uncomfortable about the whole situation. How was he to know that the exact bar Jim was working undercover at was the same bar he and Mr Valeska had met up to discuss... things?

Everyone in Gotham had dirty little secrets, Jim with Oswald, Commissioner Loeb and his secret daughter... and Jerome was Harvey's.

The day seemed to drag on forever until Captain Essen approached the two detectives and told them their shifts were over and they could go home. Bullock couldn't get out the door and into his home quicker, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a Danish in the other.

God, how he wanted to forget that night. How he wanted to drink all his problems away and wake up with amnesia about that one moment in time he wish had never happened... or at least, that was what he wanted to believe.

He was only a quarter way into his whiskey bottle and two bites into his Danish when he heard a message tone come through on his phone. It wasn't too late in the night, but Harvey was still concerned as to why someone was texting him at such a time.

He set down his drink and flipped open his phone.

I need to see you.

There was no contact name next to the number, but Harvey knew exactly who it was without a question of a doubt. Without a second thought, Harvey, put down the Danish and slipped on his coat.

When Bullock reached the club he sat outside in his car for a while as he felt his stomach drop. Why was he doing this again? He could try and blame this on the drink, but he had hardly taken a sip to make this horrific situation feel normal...

And what did he want to talk to him about?

He took a deep breath of Gotham air, and stepped out of the car and into the club on the opposite side of the road. The club was alive with the sound of music.

It didn't take long for Harvey to recognise the 17 year old in the back of the bar, in a secluded booth (that he probably bought from a shady bartender) with his bright, red hair combed back, and his unmistakable grin plastered to his face.

When he noticed Harvey approaching the booth, Jerome stood up to greet him.

"Harvey! Such a pleasant surprise!"

Harvey didn't return the happy gesture and immediately sat down in the booth.

"What did you want me for?" Harvey asked, in a monotone voice, and trying to look at anything but the boy by his side, who inched his way down to sit uncomfortably close to him.

His smile had faded slightly due to Harvey's tone, but he still rested his head on the older man's shoulder.

"I thought you liked me."

Harvey closed his eyes. He could hear the pained undertone of Jerome's voice through the leather material closing the gap between Jerome's nose and Harvey's collarbone.

"I do like you, Jerome."

"I'm pregnant."

Rude. Harvey couldn't register the entire situation; he felt like his mind was going to explode. He tried to stutter out a sentence, but he couldn't string together enough words to create a phrase that even barely showed how he was feeling with the whole conversation.

"Sorry." Jerome added, his face in a state of pure sadness which made Harvey want to cuddle him even though they were in a public area...

So he did.

He wrapped his arms around Jerome's neck, bringing him into a hug, and both of them rested their heads on each other's shoulder. Harvey could feel Jerome crying softly into his jacket, but Harvey was struggling with words to say, and so just calmly rubbed the younger man's back.

"I promise I'll help you with this," Harvey was able to say, pulling away from Jerome to wipe some of the younger's tears from his face with his jacket sleeve.

The statement made Jerome smile slightly, and he took Harvey's hand into his own, clutching onto his hand firmly.

"How were you able to get into this place, Jerome?" Harvey asked after an uncomfortable silence, in which the two were sat, still holding onto each other for quite some time.

"Came in through the rear. Like always." Jerome giggled, and even Harvey had to laugh a little, before punching him playfully in the shoulder.

"Would you be my boyfriend?"

Harvey smiled at him – forgetting about all he had thought about previously in the day. He knew now that being with this person made him the happiest he had ever been, he didn't want to drink or work, he just wanted to be around him. He wanted to be with Jerome for as long as he possibly could.

"Let me say it in Spanish. Si."