I Bet On Losing Dogs

Working For the Knife

Harvey Dent. You use the computer in the study to look him up. He's older than you and Bruce by at least three or four years, though being a lawyer in Gotham ages him. Bruce is right when he called him brilliant as his Wikipedia compares his intelligence as one of the highest in the world. Then why be a DA? You wonder as you continue scrolling, clicking. He featured in Forbes a few years ago in their 30 under 30 lists. You wonder why Bruce is omitted, but remember he didn't do anything besides be rich and hidden until last year. His stare isn't so intense in his portrait, arms crossed with a warm smile. He just graduated, and everyone wanted to hire him. So many questions ring in your brain as you wonder why DA in Gotham of all places. Most brutal place you can think of. Maybe he likes the challenge. You imagine others don't want the job since District Attorney Colson is murdered. Everyone wants to better Gotham, but you don't think Gotham wants to be helped or healed. You're confused about why Harvey is still coming and check his social media. His last tweet is thanking Mayor Reál, the Gotham PD, and Batman for saving him and his vow to keep the city safe from whoever ruined that night. Nothing since.

You end your research there, reaching your limit. You're feeling more lost than when you started. You return to your room for a quick shower. You decide on a simple black dress and a more natural look for your makeup. You feel silly wearing it, but it is a must. Wherever Harvey goes, so does the press, and with him doing a dinner with Bruce... You almost go to your phone to check your social media, but stop yourself. There's not an urgency with Bruce like yesterday. There's something brewing, but you don't know what. It's driving you crazy waiting with no updates.

Bruce waits at the end of the staircase, taken with you as you make your way down. "I hope I'm not too late." You say, and he shakes his head. "Early. They're still cooking. Harvey is on his way." His arm wraps around your waist. You're matching again, but only because you know he'd wear something black. He keeps his hair brushed back like earlier as you determine it's your favorite hairstyle for him. You can see his face for the first time it feels. His light blue eyes crease with his grin, walking you to the main dining room.

Alfred is already there, prepping and shaking his head. "Keep your guards up tonight. I don't trust this man..." Bruce's smile, as quickly as it came, disappears. It's business now. "I know, Alfred. There's no reason for me, for us, to trust him. But he said he's got some information I can use. I don't trust bribes, but I want to know what I can get."

It dawns on you that it's not a bribe that Harvey wants from Bruce. He wants his friendship, allyship. Bruce Wayne is still powerful no matter the situation.

Bruce pulls your chair back and sits you forward. He takes the seat next to you, Alfred's smirk returning. "I see you heeded Batman's words." He grimaces, resting his hand on your thigh. You're getting accustomed to this touch—his way to tell you that it's okay. You're okay with him. Safe with him. Your eyes flick down to the gesture and back up to meet his. He mouths, "I got you." You nod as the doorbell rings.

Alfred heads to the door, you and Bruce following. You've never hosted before and feel awkward standing next to Bruce. He has a switch between Bruce Wayne and Bruce, your 'friend.' In public, he speaks rarely, but straight to the point, constantly taking in information but never giving any unless it's on his terms. He's the same as your friend, but you don't let him take as much control. You wonder how he switches so quickly as he smiles at Harvey, flashing of paparazzi in the background. "A pleasure." The man is dressed to the nines in a mauve paisley pink suit jacket and cream white pants and shirt, a light pink tie to match. Elvira is there, too, a white sparkly cocktail gown. You wait for another 'how do you do' as she puts out her hand, giggling to yourself. "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Wayne. You're hard to catch these days." Bruce shakes his hand firmly as Alfred shuts the door. "I find that better. I don't need everyone having access to me." Bruce states flatly, leading you to the parlor. "Ah, but it's the 21st century. A blessing and curse." He shifts his attention to you as you sit on the dark red loveseat. Bruce stands next to you, not allowing them the chance.

"Always a pleasure to see you too (Y/N). Shame what happened to your apartment. I will eradicate all crime in this god-forsaken town when I'm DA. You were on the fifth floor, and they still got you. Madness in this city." You shiver at the mention, the fear creeping back as you hear the glass shattering again. As if seeing the flashback play on your face, Bruce sits, gesturing to the chairs across from you. "Please sit. Dinner is almost ready." His fingers interlace with yours. You blink back tears. "I don't want to talk about last night during this dinner." Bruce says, more for you than himself, "At least not that part."

Harvey looks to his wife and touches his chest, cooing. "Bruce Wayne's in love? I'll respect it. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable." He says to you. You think he's sincere but aren't sure. He is too eager to please Bruce, though.

"Is Batman off limits?" He asks, sitting forward. You both tense at the name. You owe him your life, and for that, you are grateful, but so does Bruce.

"He is not." Bruce allows.

"Good. I heard he saved (Y/N), and then I saw him last night at my home." Neither you nor Bruce says anything, waiting on more. "He told me that he knows who tried to poison me, but I have my theories." Bruce stays tense. "What are they?" Harvey sits back, looking at Elvira. "I don't think you're a killer, and you've got no reason to kill organization leaders and donors against corruption. So you can relax there, but I believe you have a lot of haters. A lot." Bruce does not relax, his gaze intense. "He told me where I should put in my next case. I want to run it by you first before I do it. If it's right, I'll be a shoo-in for DA, and you'll be safe. If it's wrong," he grimaces but continues. "My gut says it's right."

He pulls out a coin, "Are you a betting man Bruce?" He doesn't respond, trying to follow. You're too scared to say anything. "Heads, I tell you more, tails we end it here." He flips it. Your heart sinks. "You base your decisions on what a coin says?" Bruce asks, narrowing his eyes. The coin lands heads up. "It's my lucky coin, and it's your lucky day."