Harvey had known that it wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't realized that it would be this difficult. After nearly a year in the DA's office, he hadn't made a dent in Falcone's operations, nor in his stranglehold over Gotham politics. Mr. Fields happily overlooked any evidence that might be used as ammunition against the crime lord, and instead threw his weight into strengthening Falcone's hold by aggressively prosecuting any potential rivals that emerged.

Well, at least they were prosecuting some criminals.

When the Catwoman appeared, no one knew what to make of her. At first, they thought it was all just a ridiculous story created by some drugged-up tramp and spread through the East End as a joke. But then the holding cells at the GCPD started filling up with violent thugs who complained about being caught by a woman in a cat costume.

And then the legal complications began to manifest, as defense attorneys hurried to point out the injuries their clients suffered in what could be deemed illegal detainments. While citizen arrests were legal in the state, associated assault and battery were not. Some attorneys even suggested that their clients would want to press charges against the Catwoman, although that was impossible considering no one knew who the Catwoman was.

As routine prosecutions became increasingly complex, Fields decided to have the office formally seek guidance from the Mayor and the City Council, but they were indifferent so long as the Catwoman didn't hurt Falcone. And once it became clear that women across Gotham were pleased with the presence of a vigilante who protected them by night, and that their votes might reflect such feelings, all thoughts of dedicating GCPD resources to catching the Catwoman were put to rest.

Harvey wasn't pleased about it. The Catwoman was committing crimes in the course of catching the criminals, and she should be prosecuted for it.

But, just like with Falcone, he was in no position to push for a change of tune among much higher-ranking officials.

Marie was the only one who was always in his corner. She had always encouraged him when it came to Falcone, and it was no different with the Catwoman. Not that she was in a position to help him at all.

He once again accompanied her to the Wayne Enterprises Christmas Gala, and was very surprised to find 'Samantha Kane' working at the event. It was over a year and a half now since the night he met the little thief, but it was an encounter that he was unlikely to ever forget.

"You still haven't put a second ring on her finger, Harvey?"

"Huh?" He looked up to find the green eyes watching him with amusement.

"I notice Marie doesn't have any more jewelry on her left hand than she had last year."

It took him a moment to recognize her. Her attire was very different from the oversized hoodie that she had been wearing the night they met, and she didn't look nearly so young without it. "Samantha Kane?"

She smiled at his use of her fake name.

"What are you doing here?" He immediately felt suspicious, recalling the circumstances of their first encounter and realizing that there were plenty of rich people here with fancy jewelry and thick wallets.

"I'm working. Nothing that you could prosecute me for, I promise."

"And admiring the jewelry in the room while you're at it?"

She didn't deny it. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"As long as it all stays in their possession."

She made a show of looking offended at that. "Harvey, what kind of girl do you take me for?"

"I haven't forgotten our first meeting."

"Obviously."

He studied her, trying to determine whether she was being genuine.

"You were only the second person to ever catch me, you know."

That comment surprised him, though less for its content than for its emergence. "I'll bet. I hope the third time won't be so lucky for you."

"You've gotten colder since you started working for the city."

He blinked. What did she mean by that?

"And I notice that all of the high class criminals who were here last year are here again this year. Not having an easy time of it, are you?"

He pursed his lips, not much appreciating her observation. "It's been harder than I expected, but my goals haven't changed."

"Well I should hope not. When's the wedding?"

"In May." He gave a wry grin, glad that the subject was turning away from his ineffectiveness at work and potentially towards the topic of hers, if this was truly her job. "Marie will start meeting with caterers next month."

"I'll let my boss know. But you're not making her handle all of the planning, are you?"

He withheld his laugh at that. As far as Marie was concerned, the less he interfered with her plans for the wedding, the better. "I help when she'll let me. But she has very clear visions of what she wants, while I would just as soon flip a coin on most of the details."

'Kane' smirked at that, clearly assuming that he was just being the stereotypical groom-to-be leaving all of the planning to his fiancé. He didn't feel the need to disabuse her of the thought. It was true that he didn't spend much time looking ahead to the wedding, and preferred to stay focused on his work. It was so much the better for him that Marie was such a force of nature when it came to planning the event.

"Can I get you some wine, Harvey?"

Her question drew him out of his musing, and he nearly laughed again at the sudden more professional turn in their conversation. "Thank you, but I don't mind helping myself." He ventured towards the wine, and she accompanied him along the far side of the table.

Unfortunately, her next question turned back towards his work rather than hers. "So what has life been like in the Gotham D.A.'s office this year?"

Again, he withheld any reaction, although he only managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice by focusing on a bottle of Pinot Grigio. "Well, I'm sure you can imagine how things got more interesting once the Catwoman appeared." He picked up the bottle and poured himself a glass.

"I'll bet. She's caught a lot of criminals for you to prosecute."

If only it were that simple. "That's true, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't love to have her in the courtroom."

"Harvey, you're engaged."

Her reply threw him for a moment. He certainly hadn't meant his comment as an insinuation. "I mean to prosecute. Assaulting criminals is still a crime itself."

"In that case, you could prosecute half the GCPD, and that's the half that actually do their jobs."

She had a point about that, but the problems with the GCPD were another matter entirely. And at the moment, he was more concerned with the Catwoman than with rogue cops. "Police are one thing, vigilantes are another."

"You're right. But I feel safer knowing that the Catwoman is protecting the people of the East End, where most police won't even show their uniforms. I'm from the East End myself, you know."

That surprised him. Her casual attitude towards crime fit right in among those he'd met from the East End, but another detail of their first encounter last year certainly did not. "I wouldn't have guessed that from your history with Julie Madison."

For the first time in this conversation, she showed an emotion other than amusement. "It's complicated."

He repeated what had become a dry refrain in the conversation. "I'll bet."

"Julie? You know Julie?" He turned at Marie's voice, noting the familiar jealousy in her eyes, and gave her a reassuring smile. She hardly needed to get jealous when he talked to attractive women, but she still tended to, especially after the encounter with Helen Troy at this event last year.

"Oh, from a long time ago," 'Kane' replied, clearly trying to brush off the question. "I highly doubt she would even remember me."

Her lie was not at all convincing, especially in light of the surprising turn their conversation had taken last year after the mention of Julie. But Harvey shrugged, at this point more concerned with placating Marie. "Well, I don't want to bring up bad memories again. Stay out of trouble, Kane." He tried to make that last line sound a little menacing even as he began turning Marie away from the girl, although he doubted that came across at all.

"Do you two know each other?" Marie asked, frowning.

He shrugged it off as he led her away. "We met at an event last year. We were just making conversation."

Marie scrutinized him. "How does she know Julie?" As far as Harvey knew, she had only spoken to her former roommate a few times since graduating from law school.

He honestly didn't know the answer to her question, besides the fact that there was a boy involved, based on her reaction to his joke last year. "I don't actually know. She brushed the question off the same way when I asked."

Marie pursed her lips.

He took her hand and decided to change the subject. "So, who have you been talking to? Have you seen Barbara?" Lieutenant Gordon's wife owned an art gallery, and had invited them to an event in September. At least two thirds of the attendees were women, and Marie had quite enjoyed mingling, while Harvey and Jim had mostly spent the time commiserating over how the Catwoman had made their jobs much more complicated. The two pairs had gotten together a couple of times since, at the instigation of Marie and Barbara.

Marie quirked a brow at the change of subject, but allowed it, and led him over to their friends.

It was a little while later that he turned at a tap on his shoulder, and found himself looking at yet another pair of green eyes, this time embedded in the beautiful face of the woman he only knew as 'Helen Troy.'

"Hello, Harvey."

His heartbeat quickened immediately. "Hi." For a moment he was very keenly aware of Marie's absence by his side; she had been pulled into another conversation with Barbara's friends.

"It's so good to see you again." Her voice still held that vaguely ominous sing-song quality.

"You too." He fought to get his reaction to the sight of her under control, trying to tell himself that it was all just surprise.

"Are you still at the D.A.'s office?"

It was the first time that someone he'd spoken to tonight hadn't already known the answer to that, and he wondered if she was pretending. "Yes."

"How have things been there?"

"They've been alright, all things considered." The question that he'd already been asked several times gave him the chance to get his treacherous body back in line as he entered what was by now a very well-rehearsed conversation. "The Catwoman has certainly made things more complicated."

"Yes, her appearance was quite the surprise."

"Are you also a fan of how she ostensibly protects women from men who would hurt them?"

"If someone is protecting me, I would prefer to know who they are."

Her response was far more gratifying than many of the others that he had received. "I agree. And her method for catching criminals is criminal itself."

'Helen' nodded. "There's no place for vigilantism in Gotham. We have enough chaos here already."

"Tell me about it," he breathed, relieved to hear someone else agreeing with him.

"But I'm sure that the Catwoman isn't the only criminal that you've been focusing on lately."

"No, of course not." He looked around to see who was in earshot and could be eavesdropping, but his gaze refused to leave her for long.

"And how is Marie?"

"Hm?" The sudden change of topic threw him. "Uh, she's good. Doing perfectly well."

A small smile crossed the lovely red lips. "You must be looking forward to the wedding."

"Of course," he replied on automatic, catching himself staring at said lips. "I can't wait to marry her."

"Yes, you certainly sound excited about it."

He knew she was being sarcastic, but had no idea how to respond to that. Now was certainly not the time for him to consider his mindset about the wedding. He should definitely hold off on that until later, when Marie would be lying in his arms.

"So what are the odds that I'll see you again sometime before we're here again next year?"

He wondered about that himself. "Well, you know where I work. I don't know where you are the rest of the year."

"I'm in consulting. Freelance, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Well, I do have a close relationship with a regular client, but we don't have any formal retention."

"Really?" He felt ashamed of himself for the spark of jealousy that ignited.

She quirked a brow, probably reading his expression quite clearly. "He's family."

"Oh, I see." The spark vanished, and he felt another pang of shame.

"And here comes your anchor."

"Huh?" She was looking past him, and he realized what she meant. It was a warning for him to school his features before Marie arrived at his side.

"Helen, it's good to see you again," Marie said with what was to Harvey's experienced ears a blatantly false enthusiasm.

"You as well, Marie." 'Helen' sounded more genuine, although Harvey certainly didn't know her well enough to tell for sure. "We were just discussing your upcoming wedding. It's an exciting time."

"It certainly is." Marie took Harvey's hand and smiled at him, and he returned the smile. "Time just keeps moving more slowly as the anticipation builds."

"I'm sure it will be here before you know it." 'Helen' shot Harvey a knowing look, and he carefully avoided reacting to it. "Well, I'll leave you two to your friends. Take care." She turned and walked away, and Harvey looked carefully away from both women as he felt the atmosphere surrounding him cool.

"What did she want?" Marie asked.

"Nothing, she was just saying hello."

She didn't look at all satisfied with his answer, and Harvey wondered what Helen's actual motivation was for the conversation.

Marie tightened her grip on his hand. "I'm ready to call it a night. Shall we?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." He certainly didn't need any more questionable conversations to ponder tonight.

Despite Marie's words, the time seemed to race by as the wedding approached. Harvey threw himself into work, thinking about the wedding only when Marie giddily brought it up. He knew that it wasn't uncommon to have 'wedding jitters,' but this felt like more than that.

Then, two weeks before the wedding, 'Helen' appeared again. Harvey had just gotten in line to order at Andre's Deli, two blocks from his office, when she came up beside him. "Hello, Harvey."

He turned, and his heart just about stopped for a moment before picking up speed. "Hi."

She was wearing very different attire from what she wore to the galas: a casual, black blouse and pants and much more modest makeup, but the look worked just as well for her as the fancy dresses did.

"It's good to see you."

"You too."

She kept pace with him as the line moved up a few steps. "I have something for you, work-related."

"What?"

"Not here." And then he froze as a piece of folded paper was pushed into the pocket of his slacks. She kept pushing it until he could feel her fingers in his pocket. It was just a moment before they were gone. "See you later, Harvey." And then she left.

The folded paper felt like fire in his pocket as he quickly ate lunch. Then he hurried back into the office, detouring to the bathroom and hiding in a stall. Withdrawing the paper, he stared at the address on it, accompanied by the time: 9:30 PM.

The address was just a few blocks from where he and Marie lived. He knew the building, a tall and fancy one with suitably high rents. 'Helen' must do very well as a freelance consultant, or else she had wealthy parents who didn't mind helping her foot the bills.

She opened the door seconds after he knocked, and his eyes were treacherously quick to scan her. She was still wearing the casual, black blouse, but she had traded the pants for a pair of crimson sweatpants with the name of a certain university near Boston. Beneath the sweats, she was barefoot, her toes painted the same red as her fingernails.

"Hi, Harvey." The sing-song tone was back with fervor as she watched him take her in.

His gaze quickly snapped back to her emerald eyes. "Hi."

"Come in." She disappeared from view just for a moment before he followed her into the apartment. As he had suspected, it was massive. Her living room alone could fit almost the entire apartment where he lived with Marie. Half of the spacious room had been turned into a gym, the workout equipment and mats currently folded together neatly against the far wall. A large couch of black leather divided the room, slanted to facilitate looking out at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a spectacular view of downtown. A glass coffee table in front of the couch was piled with folders and newspapers.

Wayne Tower gleamed in the distance, a reminder of the first two times that they met.

"Make yourself comfortable." She disappeared from the room, and he took off his shoes and went to the couch, sitting down and staring out at the city. She returned several seconds later with two glasses of white wine. "Pinot Grigio, if I recall, right?"

He raised his eyebrows, remembering when he selected the wine while talking to 'Samantha Kane' at the gala. Was 'Helen' watching then? "Right."

She offered one of the glasses and then sat down sideways on the couch, tucking one foot beneath her. "What should we drink to?"

"That depends on what I'm here for."

She smirked, then raised her glass. "To ridding Gotham of corruption."

Again, his eyebrows rose. "I'll certainly drink to that." He clinked his glass against hers, and they drank.

Before he could ask the question, she put down her glass on a coaster on the coffee table and picked up the black folder atop the pile. "A client came to me in a bit of a panic. He'd gotten hold of some papers he wasn't supposed to have." She opened the folder and looked inside for a moment, before shutting it again and handing it to Harvey. "I'm assuming you know the name Salvatore Maroni."

"Of course. He's Carmine Falcone's right hand man."

"That's one way of putting it." 'Helen' took another sip of her wine. "If you really want to take down the mob in Gotham, he's your target, not Falcone. Falcone is basically retired by now."

"You certainly seem to be in the know."

"Look through the papers."

Harvey did so. "So Maroni's running the show now, is he?"

"The so-called friendship between him and Falcone is a fiction that keeps the city running smoothly. They've been many things over the years, but never friends."

Harvey paused at what looked like a cargo manifest. "How did your client get his hands on these?"

"He wouldn't tell me. The poor man was terrified that Maroni would hunt him down. I told him that I would get the information to the D.A."

"Close enough."

"Maroni certainly doesn't seem as interested in being a benevolent guardian for the people of Gotham as Falcone has been for all these years. The city would be much better off if he's put in jail before he has the chance to take over."

"Then why hasn't Falcone done anything about him?"

"Politics. Keep reading."

Harvey continued until he came upon a transcript of a conversation, and his eyes widened. This was a meeting between Maroni and Mayor Hill.

"There's the meal ticket."

Harvey shut the folder, staring at the black cover. "The politics are going to be a problem."

"I'm sure you can figure out how to make use of this. With Maroni in prison, Gotham will be a cleaner, safer place."

"Even if he is running Falcone's empire in all but name, he isn't the only problem. Falcone has children. Heirs."

"What do you know about Falcone's children?"

"I know the elder son is named Mario. He plays a major role in the drug trade, but he lives in Italy with Mrs. Falcone. I can't exactly do anything about him over there. There are two other children, but if they've contributed to criminal activity at all, it hasn't reached my radar."

Amusement surfaced in her eyes, and her sing-song tone returned. "Well, some of that was correct."

"I take it you know things I don't." Harvey leaned forward. "Did one of them put you up to this? Are they trying to use me to get Maroni out of the way?"

"Does that really matter, Harvey?" 'Helen' matched his pose. As she leaned forward, the space between the buttons of her blouse stretched, offering a glimpse of green lace over snow-white skin.

He felt the blood in his veins heat, and forced his gaze away from her.

"You don't have to worry about the Falcones. Once Maroni is out of the way, we'll be able to free Gotham from the mob, once and for all."

"We?" Harvey's voice came out hoarse, his throat having dried up.

"Surely you don't think you're the only one who wants to protect the people of this city."

He dared to look at her again, carefully locking his eyes on hers. "Of course not."

She smirked.

"What's your name? Your real name. I know you're not Helen Troy."

The smirk faded, but she didn't hesitate. "My name is Sofia."

He could tell that she was telling the truth this time. Swallowing heavily, he held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Sofia."

She shook it. "You too, Harvey." Her hand felt soft in his, and just like the first time, his palm tingled from her touch.

"I should go."

"What's the hurry?" She sat up again, hiding away the accidental view she had given him. "I don't have any other plans tonight, do you?" She took a sip of her wine.

"I should get back to Marie." The words came out flat as he put his effort into standing up from the couch, Sofia's proximity a force that tried to pull him back down.

"Of course. Tell her I say hello."

That wouldn't be a good idea. "Will do."

When he arrived home, Marie of course asked where he had been. "I was just taking care of some work." He hid the black folder in his briefcase before joining her in the bedroom, where she was sitting at her easel. Noticing the uncertainty in her gaze, he kissed her cheek. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. Don't make a habit of working so late."

"I won't."

Jim and Barbara insisted on throwing them bachelor and bachelorette parties, respectively. So, a few nights before the wedding, Harvey wound up at Carl's Tavern, a place just up the street from the Sixth Precinct that was very popular among the cops. Detective Flass, who was friends with the owner, got them several rounds of drinks on the house, and Detective Essen, who was the lone woman at the event thanks to being much closer with Jim than with Barbara, was characteristically bubbly, especially once she had some alcohol in her.

"So what do you like most about Marie?" she asked, peering up at Harvey eagerly.

Harvey considered the question. "Well, she's always been there for me. We met right at the start of the most stressful time in our lives, and we've been there to support each other ever since. And she's wonderful: beautiful, kind, artistic, playful. She's everything I'm not, really."

Essen gave a longing sigh. "See, Jim, that's how you talk about a woman." She poked Jim's shoulder.

"Gordon's already married," said Flass. "He doesn't have to talk that way about Barbara anymore." He gave Harvey a wink.

Essen rolled her eyes. "But marriage will make you even more keen to talk about her that way, won't it?"

Her expression begged Harvey to agree with her, but he shrugged. "I don't expect it to be that different."

Her face fell. "Honestly, what is the point of even marrying you men?"

"The tax benefits," said Flass.

Essen gave another sigh, this one more mournful. "I need to start hanging out with women more."

"You're in the wrong line of work for that."

She turned pointedly away from the taller detective and looked at Jim again. "Doesn't marriage make you happier, at least?"

Jim shrugged, his gaze fixed on his glass. "It's a step in that direction, I'd say."

Harvey studied him, surprised. He hadn't seen any signs that Jim and Barbara's marriage was anything but perfect.

Essen poked him again, more aggressively this time. "That's not what you're supposed to say, Jim. You're supposed to tell Harvey that marriage is wonderful. That it's everything he has been dreaming it will be."

"I really don't need that talk," Harvey interjected. "Like I said, I expect that it will be much the same. Except for the tax benefits, of course," he added with a nod towards Flass, who grinned.

Essen shook her head.

"This is why you're single," said Flass. "There are miles of distance between how men think and how you want them to think."

Essen shot him a glare. "I'm single because I already spend far too much time with men. I certainly don't need to be dating right now, thank you very much."

"And yet here you are, spending more time with men."

"This is for Harvey."

"I'm flattered," said Harvey, stopping Flass from continuing to goad her. "Really, I'm glad you're here. This would be dull with just us guys."

Flass looked offended. "Well, we can do something about that, can't we? It's a shame the Catwoman has taken down the strip clubs, we could be over on Eighth Street right now."

This earned him another glare from Essen. "You are a shining exemplar of the GCPD."

"Thank you."

Harvey quickly pushed away any thoughts of strip clubs. All of the beautiful, unknown women his mind could conjure now had Sofia's face.

Jim kept drinking as the night wore on, until he was slumping rather heavily over the bar. "Alright, Jim, that's enough for you," said Essen. "Barbara won't like you being more smashed than the groom."

"Barbara shouldn't see this," Jim muttered.

"Fine, then you can crash at my place. Let's get you out of here. Help me, Arnold."

Flass gave a long-suffering sigh and stood, and the two detectives helped get the third one outside. Harvey insisted on taking Essen's place for the walk to her apartment.

Once Jim was safely passed out on Essen's couch, Harvey turned to her. "Thanks for letting him crash here."

"Of course."

"I didn't expect him to drink so much."

"Well, what do you expect after the news he got?" Flass said dryly.

"What news?"

"People aren't supposed to know yet," said Essen.

If Harvey were sober, he would have accepted Essen's assertion as a rule, but he was not sober. "Know what?"

"Barbara's pregnant," said Flass.

Harvey's eyes went wide. Children were not something he had given any thought to, despite his impending marriage. And if Marie had thought about it at all, she hadn't said anything.

Essen was shooting Flass yet another glare, and he gestured to Harvey. "His fiancé will know. Barbara won't be drinking tonight, it'll be obvious."

Essen pursed her lips, but that was perhaps the most reasonable argument that Flass had made all night. "I suppose," she conceded. "Would you like any water?" She pointedly directed this question at Harvey rather than Flass.

"Sure," Harvey replied, still processing the news of Jim and Barbara's impending parenthood.

"I'm gonna head back out there," said Flass. "For some people, the night is still young." He clapped Harvey's shoulder. "Enjoy your last few nights as a free man, my friend."

"Thanks." Harvey grinned as Essen rolled her eyes.

Once Flass had left, she directed him over to the little bar that divided her living room from her kitchen. He sat down as she circled around and poured two glasses of water. It occurred to him that he had never actually had a conversation with Essen one-on-one before, and it was strange that they were now suddenly alone in her apartment but for a passed out Jim.

"Here." She passed him one of the glasses of water.

"Thanks." He took a long sip, not sure of what to say.

"You really love Marie, don't you?"

The question caught him off guard. "Of course."

"Good." Her gaze drifted off somewhere over his shoulder. "You're lucky. She seems really nice."

"She is."

"I'm sorry about the way Jim acted tonight." She said it so flatly that he didn't even register the change of subject at first. "I think Arnold is right, for once in his life. The news about the baby has thrown Jim for a loop. But he'll make a good dad."

Harvey glanced over his shoulder at the man passed out on the couch.

"And he and Barbara are happy together, regardless of what he said tonight."

"I know." He turned back in time to catch the mournful expression on Essen's face. "Are you really not looking to date anyone right now?"

She shrugged. "I spend too much time around men whose honor only lasts until they unpin their badges."

"You'll find the right one someday."

She looked down. "I suppose I'll consider myself lucky if he's single."

He was already in bed by the time Marie arrived home. "Hey," he said quietly, noting the flush of lingering intoxication on her face.

"Barbara's pregnant," Marie blurted.

"I know."

"Jim spilled the beans?"

"Actually it was Flass."

Marie fumbled her way out of her red dress. "I had to drink all of her drinks for her, so the others wouldn't notice."

Harvey chuckled. "Are you okay?"

Managing to escape from the red fabric, she fell onto the bed and crawled over to him on her elbows. "I need sleep."

"Do you need water?"

"No, I need your arms around me."

He complied, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Barbara's scared." The words were muffled by his skin.

"So is Jim."

Marie shifted so that her mouth was no longer covered. "We never talked about having kids, did we? Not seriously, anyway."

"No."

"Are we rushing into this?"

"What?"

"Are we getting married too quickly? We should have those conversations first, shouldn't we?"

He looked at her, but her eyes were closed, and her face showed nothing more than weariness. "That's just the alcohol talking, right?"

It was a moment before she responded in any fashion, and then her shoulders moved in what was probably supposed to be a shrug. She kissed his skin. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Let's get married. We'll worry about everything else afterwards."

"That sounds like a plan." He sighed, dropping his head back onto the pillow. His hand idly stroked along her arm as he closed his eyes.

"Sophie's really pretty."

His head jerked up again. "Who?"

"Barbara's friend Sophie. Pretty girl."

Harvey stared at her, although her eyes were still closed. She couldn't mean Sofia, of course. As far as Marie still knew, Sofia's name was Helen Troy.

He lay back again, shutting his eyes and pushing Sofia from his thoughts. His hand resumed stroking Marie's arm.

She kissed his skin again. "I can't wait to marry you."

He forced a smile onto his lips, even if she couldn't see it. "I can't wait, either."

He was right that things wouldn't feel all that different after the wedding. It felt like a formality, held in a Catholic Church at Celia's urging. Marie would have preferred to get married outdoors, but the weather was uncooperative anyway. Other than that, everything went exactly as she had envisioned it.

The honeymoon was nice, a trip through France and Spain that was divided in half between sightseeing and lounging in honeymoon suites, private pools, and secluded beaches.

And then life returned to normal, more or less exactly as it had been before the wedding.

For Harvey, the biggest change came not from anything related to the marriage, but from the black folder hidden in his briefcase. He stared at it for a moment each time it was visible, and tried to determine how best to use the information that Sofia had given him.

Finally, he made his decision.

It took another six weeks to get a meeting with the Mayor. Harvey was patient; he didn't want to let on the importance of what he wanted to discuss. Instead, he carried out instructions to the letter, continuing to prosecute only the criminals that Hill and Fields and their connections wanted prosecuted.

He made regular trips to Andre's Deli, keeping an eye out for Sofia. She hadn't given him any means of contacting her, and he didn't want to just show up at her apartment one evening. But he had a feeling she would contact him again in the same manner she had done the last time. Maybe it would become their thing.

And he wasn't disappointed, although it took time. In fact, she arrived the same day of his meeting with the Mayor. "Are you prepared?"

He decided that he shouldn't be surprised that she knew about the meeting. "I have my plan."

"Good." She didn't turn to face him, but her head tilted a little. "You're ready to do what you have to do."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"You're having dinner with Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette tonight. Eight o'clock at Bellucci's. You have a private booth reserved. Don't be late, she appreciates punctuality."

"I didn't realize you're in the matchmaking business."

"I haven't forgotten that you've got a ring now."

"So what will I be discussing with Miss Vale?"

"That's entirely up to you." She turned to him, and he met her green eyes. Her gaze was calculating but also... something else. She reached up, touching his shoulder for just a second. "Good luck, Harvey." And then she left.

"Welcome, Mr. Dent."

"Thank you for taking the time, Mr. Mayor." Harvey shook his hand.

Mayor Hill was fairly tall, only slightly shorter than Harvey himself. He carried himself with confidence, but Harvey knew that it was a façade, bolstered by the belief that his connections made him untouchable.

He was wrong.

"Please have a seat." Hill stepped behind his oversized desk. The desk was arranged with photographs, most of which were facing Harvey rather than Hill himself. They were designed to celebrate the Mayor and intimidate his visitors: Pictures of him with the President, with various governors and senators and representatives, and even with some foreign royals. But Harvey was unimpressed.

"This is about the Sionis investigation, yes?" It was less a question from the Mayor than a statement. The Sionises were a wealthy couple who had recently been killed when their mansion was set on fire. The primary suspect was their son, who had disappeared. As the victims of the crime were wealthy Gothamites, this was of course the investigation that Hill was most interested in at the moment.

"Actually, it's about the Maroni investigation."

Hill's confident façade faltered for just a moment. "Maroni?"

Harvey withdrew the black folder from his briefcase and opened it to the transcript of Hill's meeting with the mobster. He had made copies of the transcript that were carefully hidden elsewhere, so he didn't mind handing this copy to a man who would likely want to tear it up.

Hill looked at the transcript and paled. "Where did you get this?"

"You're not the only one with sources, Mr. Mayor." Harvey leaned back, donning the confidence that had fallen from Hill's face. "I'm being interviewed by the Gotham Gazette tonight."

"The Gazette? What have you done to draw their attention?"

Harvey shrugged. "The fact that Mr. Fields doesn't acknowledge my talent doesn't mean others haven't noticed it. And I'm sure they would be interested in one of my other copies of this." He gestured to the transcript.

Hill threw the papers down on his desk. "What do you want, Dent?"

"I want to clean up this city, and I can't do that from my little desk. Fields does a good job of taking orders from you and from the mob, and I won't be as cooperative, but I will make a difference."

"You want to be the D.A.? You're just a kid."

"I'll be the youngest D.A. in Gotham history, but that isn't the only thing I intend to be remembered for. I will do whatever it takes to free the people of Gotham from the shadow that crime has cast over this city for so long now. I will make the streets safe for their children, and they'll thank you for it. I'll make you the most popular mayor of this city since Winslow Wayne, as little as you deserve it."

Hill studied him. "I'll say this about you, kid: You've got a pair of brass ones."

"So what will I be telling the Gazette tonight?"

"Nothing. I'll make the announcement in a few days. I owe it to Vernon to let him know first. Like you said, he's been good at taking instructions." Hill leaned back. "For the record, kid, he's more fond of you than you think. But that won't last."

Harvey looked down, but he wouldn't let his conscience bother him for this. He was doing what needed to be done. Like Sofia said, he was ready.

"And the City Council won't like this much. I daresay you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. But you'll see for yourself." Hill stood and held out his hand.

Harvey rose and shook the offered hand. "Thank you, Mr. Mayor."

"Don't thank me yet. And like I said, not a word to the Gazette."

Harvey nodded. His conversation with Miss Vale tonight wouldn't be as interesting as she was certainly hoping for, but it would be good to get to know someone at the paper. Given what he was about to face, he could certainly do with a friend in the press.

Two days later, Fields announced that he would be resigning as D.A. in order to run for election to the state legislature. He shook hands with everyone in the office, although there was a distinct coldness in his eyes as he shook Harvey's hand.

Again, Harvey refused to let his conscience say a word. Fields had been a puppet. He was part of the problem.

The Mayor's subsequent announcement was greeted with shock all across Gotham. All of a sudden, Harvey was cast in a very harsh spotlight, as everyone wanted to know how exactly he had convinced Mayor Hill to appoint him as the youngest D.A. in the city's history. But Harvey rose to the occasion, greeting every question with an answer and touting his legal knowledge and his determination to eliminate crime in Gotham once and for all.

There was, of course, the question about what he thought of the Catwoman. He replied honestly, that fighting crime with crime could not be tolerated, and even if the Catwoman was ostensibly protecting the city's women, she should still be arrested and prosecuted for her vigilantism. His answer was greeted with some outcry, but many in the city agreed with his reasoning.

Of course, no sooner had the papers reported his words than there was another increase in the number of criminals violently apprehended at night. But these vigilante arrests were different. The captured crooks didn't talk about a woman in a cat costume, but rather a large man in black armor gliding through the night like a giant bat.

They called him the Batman.