The skyline was beautiful. Bright white lights against the midnight darkness. He did sometimes wish there were more variety in their skyline. Maybe more colors or unusually shaped skyscrapers would give the citizens a little more pride, and maybe that would make a difference. Gordon guessed he could bring it up with Bruce Wayne, now that he hobnobbed with celebrities.

Gordon stood next to the floodlight, waiting. He'd been here a while, and he'd wait a while longer. He hadn't shown up yesterday, and he needed to talk to him.

A swish of cloth was Gordon's only clue. He turned and his partner was suddenly standing tall and motionless on the roof.

"The thugs we arrested are talking," Gordon started with the official update. "The leader's a guy named Sivero, out of Chicago. Seems he was hired by Maroni alone; the rest of them have chosen the Joker character to fight the Lau case."

Even in the dark and covered by the mask, Gordon could see his eyes narrow. "Why would Maroni go against the others?" he rasped.

"Maroni likes to consider himself a gentleman's criminal. And the Joker is…not," Gordon settled for simplicity. "It's likely that Sivero's skipped town, but just in case -"

"I'll keep an eye out."

"There's one other thing," Gordon said. The Bat turned back around. Gordon hesitated, unsure of how to phrase the next. "Bruce Wayne is going to be working with us."

"With us?" How he could make a growl drip in disbelief, Gordon didn't know.

"Well, with Dent," he amended.

"Doing what?"

"Politics. Building support." Gordon shrugged.

"Do you trust him?" The same question he'd asked about Dent a few weeks ago, Gordon remembered.

"All he's doing is sweet-talking the media," he hedged.

His partner stared at him. "I'm not meeting with him." His voice was final, steel. Then he was gone.

...

Bruce parked the Rolls with a little less ostentatious display than usual. He gripped the wheel for a moment. This was the first public statement of his after the "Tragedy at the Penthouse," as the more sensational news reports put it (one magazine had gone alliterative with 'Pandemonium' but the public outcry at the insensitivity had been swift and severe).

It was his first interview supporting Harvey Dent. This wasn't like he'd previously planned it. One fundraiser and Harvey'd be set, and Bruce could still hide behind his playboy ways. But what he'd agreed to now would chip away at his partying image. He'd thought it was a risk worth taking, but even he was susceptible to a few self-doubts as the hour came. Still, self-doubts were one thing, but the decision had already been made. This moment of hesitation was all he was going to allow himself. He entered GCN headquarters.

Harvey was waiting in the lobby. Decked out in one of his usual business suits, there was just a little more shine and care than normal. He came up and barely shook hands before launching into his coaching review. "Remember they are going to harp on the incident at your penthouse. We can't let them run the interview; steer it back to how we are going to build from that, focus on cleaning up the streets."

A muscle in Bruce's jaw twitched. "We're calling it an incident now?"

"We're not calling it anything at all," Harvey returned as the elevator arrived and they stepped in. "We acknowledge it and move on. The priority is to point the public's focus back to the Rico success." Harvey was sounding too cold, but Bruce considered him again.

Perhaps he wasn't the only one having second thoughts in the light of day and a week later.

He turned his gaze away from the DA's profile and turned to the metallic doors. "Relax Harvey, I won't let you down."

Harvey shot him a startled glance, but then the elevator doors were opening and Tom, the face of GCN, was there reaching out a welcoming hand. It was time.

…

The hotel belonged to Wayne. He'd bought it a few years back after he'd gotten chewed out by the management for his dates' beach party stunt. That was again, dates plural. Gordon shook his head. It was still hard in the abstract sense to understand that he was now working with this carouser.

There they were. Arguably the two most visible men in Gotham, starting in on their salads, unconsciously leaning in towards one another, already deep in a discussion to save their city. Gordon felt out of place.

Wayne looked up with a small smile as Gordon pulled out a chair and joined them. Harvey nodded but continued his final point about the Narrows. A waiter handed him a menu and then left with Gordon's drink order.

"How are you doing, Lieutenant?" Bruce asked when Dent finished talking.

Gordon smiled. "Doing well. I saw the highlights of your interview; it was very impressive." And it had been. Wayne had been serious but hopeful, intelligent and very determined. He'd never say it, but it had reminded him a lot of Thomas Wayne's speeches. He'd thought the reporters had seen the similarities too (after all, they ran Thomas Wayne biographies every year) but they hadn't commented upon it either. It was like they were all collectively holding their breath, not wanting to spook this new version of Bruce Wayne.

"So what's wrong?" Harvey instantly shifted the conversation.

Gordon looked around the dining hall, deciding what to say here. "Lots of the midlevel guys are stonewalling. They're off the streets right now, but they're not cutting deals."

"Doesn't matter. They'll just stay in jail and we'll get them in court."

"And that means that they will all appeal and potentially get them all overturned, leaving us with exactly nothing."

Harvey leaned back. "I'm the lawyer, let me worry about the appeals."

Then Gordon took a breath. "And I talked with our friend," he walked around the name, too public a place for his liking.

"He have any leads for us?" Bruce asked.

"He's trying, but nothing yet." Gordon paused. "I told him about your addition, Mr. Wayne, and he's not against it, but he wasn't thrilled."

Bruce nodded. "I'm not surprised. And it's all right."

"He'll warm up to the idea," Harvey encouraged Bruce. "Especially when he sees what we're accomplishing."

Gordon said nothing.

...

It was after nine, but Harvey made his way back to the office. After all, bringing down the mob was not just a 9-5 job.

Rachel was still there, poring over some files. He was the face and the power, but Rachel was just as dedicated and actually had more experience in the DA's office.

It was during nights like these that he had first fallen for her. He'd done his best flirting here, both of them staying late working on cases. Their shared love for the law and passion for justice had bonded them, and Dent was beginning to think he couldn't imagine life without her.

Rachel glanced up with an exhausted smile. "How was your meeting with Gordon?"

"It went well. Wayne was with us too. Did you catch the interview we did?"

Rachel nodded and kept the smile, but Harvey knew her well enough. "What is it?" he asked, setting down his briefcase and removing his coat.

"Nothing," was the not unexpected reply. Rachel moved around the office, gathering files from the messy piles she liked to make. It was clear she was just trying to look busy. Harvey leaned against his desk and crossed his arms.

She stilled. "It's just…" She looked up at him, her dark eyes slightly troubled. "It's just Bruce. I don't know if I like you working with him."

Harvey frowned. "Why not? You're the one who first told me there was more to him. And now that I see it too you're backtracking." He walked up and put his hands on her shoulders. "Pick a side, Counselor."

She nodded, a wisp of dark hair slipping out of her ponytail. "You're right. Forget I said anything." She looked up at him with a sly smile. "But if I see your face on any tabloid…"

"I know. I'd better hope that the mob gets to me before you do."

...

Bruce stepped onto his balcony. Another night of fighting crime, over and done with. Only there had been very little. Ever since the kidnapping attempt had failed, the criminals left in the city had been curiously idle. As if the failed kidnapping had seeped all their energy, and they were all giving up, defeated.

He knew they were there, just hiding in the brush, trying to trick him into thinking they weren't there. He knew that, but it was nice to have them running scared for once.

He was hoping. Not much, but a little.

...

Maroni left the meeting with Sivero satisfied with the new plan. He should have been more alert, but even the criminals had felt the absence of so many hoodlums and relaxed the tiniest bit. Ironic, he knew.

He got into his car and reviewed the meeting. Although Sivero had failed in his original plan, Maroni still preferred him to the clown's hysterics.

The rest of the crime families had thrown their weight behind the clown, but not him. He did not like the clown, he was too…unhinged. And you don't trust your lifeblood to a nutcase. Falcone hadn't learned that lesson, and look where he'd ended up. Maroni was not going to end up like that. He'd taken over Falcone's little family, and even with Lieutenant Gordon getting a vigilante to do his dirty work, he'd still managed to make it even more profitable. But now with every family's assets frozen, they were all having to resort to desperate measures. But that didn't mean lose your mind. It meant keep calm and go clever. And Maroni was nothing if not clever.

He kept telling that to himself as he stepped out onto his stoop and found the limp, cold form of Sivero, garish white paint smeared over his disfigured face.

Hey guys, after many months, here is the start of the sequel to Not Quickly Broken. This will be my first novel-like length story in several years, so I'm a little nervous. I have it almost all plotted out though, so I should be updating regularly, hopefully once a week. Hope y'all enjoy the first installment!