CHAPTER 6: STRANGER THAN FICTION
She had settled into the spare bedroom in his apartment. Oswald gave her free reign of his humble abode, but he always kept a close eye on her. She was provided with everything inside his home, but the urge to venture out was sneaking up on her. After a careful negotiation she managed a free night with Oswald's approval. She was unaware that he had instructed one of his men to follow her every move. He would give her space, but he would not let her take advantage of this new-found freedom.
She greeted the night and immediately headed to the only other bar she felt comfortable in. The Iceberg was completely out of the question. She had spent enough time there already. It just so happened that she and Harvey Bullock frequented the same hidden hot spot. Although they were not on the best of terms, she sought out the only friendly face in the crowd. He bought her a drink, and proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes lecturing her on Oswald's past: "-nothing but a yellow belly'd rat who'd slice your heart out if he thought he could make a buck from it." Harvey wasn't one to mince words.
"And what's my well-being worth to you, Detective?" she cut him off, afraid his seemingly endless rant would start to sober her up. Harvey took the hint. He made a non-committal shrug before downing the rest of his drink in a heavy gulp. "Maybe I'd sleep better at night knowing a pretty girl like you is safe out there." He grabbed his hat from the bar top, giving her a casual wink before adding "Take care of yourself." Harvey liked to keep his distance but he had enjoyed talking with her. She was too smart to fall for Oswald's manipulative head games, he left the bar wondering what hold the Penguin had on her.
Harvey's playful banter grew on her. She managed to sneak out to the bar every chance she could, hopeful for the Detective's return. Over the passing weeks, they developed a friendly rapport - they exchanged barbs while lamenting about their ex's. It was innocent enough, Harvey felt comfortable around her and besides, he loved to watch her dance.
"What'cha drinking tonight, Princess?" he raised his glass to greet her. She settled beside him replying: "You know I hate when you call me that...Sweetcheeks" Harvey was amused with his new pet name, he couldn't resist teasing her - "How would you know?" Her face flushed pink as she nudged his shoulder. "Would you care to see if your assessment is correct?" He waited for her to groan at his pun, but she burst into a fit of giggles, infatuated with the seasoned Detective's sense of humor. Harvey beamed inside, she was laughing at his terrible jokes before she had received her first drink.
They had settled into a comfortable schedule. They would talk for a couple hours, and when the music suited her, she would get up and dance - never taking her eyes from his seat. She had tried to get him to join her but with little success. Harvey usually complained of an 'aching something or other' to save face with the young girl. He couldn't imagine what they would look like together out there; she was so vivacious and spirited. It would be foolish of him to think of her as anything other than a friend. He needed those more than another one-night stand under his belt. Besides, he was sure she treated him no differently than any other guy on the street.
She was tugging at his arm, begging him to join her. Harvey wanted to keep his distance. He thought he could trust her, but anyone associated with the Penguin immediately put him on guard. "Pleeeeeease?" She pouted her lower lip, trying to appeal to his softer side. He was ready to cave - "Two more shots, Lloyd." If he was going to look foolish, at least he could blame the booze. "Let's do this," he grunted, offering an obliging smile. She quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him eagerly to the center of the crowd.
He made it a point to keep his distance from her grinding hips, choosing instead to let her lead. He didn't want to overstep his bounds. She was shocked he could keep up; he was rolling his shoulders in time with the song, letting his lower half mimic her own moves. He had a confident swagger on the dance floor, she had chided herself for not dancing with him sooner. "Not bad, Harv." She smiled wide as he interlocked his fingers with her own. His touch was electric, causing her to blurt out "-charming bastard" under her breath. Harvey pulled her close, whispering in her ear - "I've been called worse" as he guided her into a short dip on the dance floor.
His confidence was swelling, or perhaps his seventh shot was finally kicking in. She leaned into his chest, taking him by surprise. He closed his arms around her, narrowing the gap between them. Her body slid against him, their pace increasing with each beat. She lifted her head to catch a glimpse of him staring back at her with amorous intent. Their faces drifted closer, pausing just shy of contact as the song drew to a close.
On the other side of the bar, a man was reaching for his phone - "Boss...we might have a problem. You better get down here."