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Bruce leans against the long corridor’s wall, arms crossed. The wainscoting digging uncomfortably into his shoulder. He hums, drumming his fingers on his arm. Based on the murmuring amongst the members of the public that starts to trickle out from the courtroom, it’s safe to conclude that Harvey just won yet another case and Bruce is about ready to whisk him away for a celebratory dinner.
(After all, another crook behind the bars also means another win for Gotham’s justice triumvirate. He’ll treat Jim—as Batman—on another day.)
Further down the hall near where the courtroom’s restricted area is, cameramen and journalists alike pace around. For once, they pay no heed to the infamous playboy billionaire who has been waiting just as impatiently as them and Bruce actually finds that refreshing. When the heavy door of the court personnel’s entrance flings open and the Man of the Hour appears, they immediately swarm him.
Harvey looks striking in his perfectly tailored navy blue suit, dark brown hair still neatly coiffed even after the arduous battle in court. He flashes his million-dollar smile and waves at the flashing cameras—he’s practically beaming with victory.
(Bruce's heart skips a beat when that smile seems to be brighter, more genuine when Harvey spots him amidst the enthusiastic crowd.)
After a brief Q&A, Harvey excuses himself from the sea of journalists and heads towards the area where Bruce has been waiting for him. He smiles sheepishly, scratching his nose absently when Bruce congratulates him and they’re about to head to the parking lot when someone calls after Harvey from behind.
The man is probably in his 60s and wears a charcoal-colored newsboy hat that matches his coat. He has a stooped posture. Bruce immediately recalls seeing a younger version of him in a framed family photo that Harvey haphazardly stashed in one of the cabinets in his old office.
(Batman wasn’t sure if he could trust the Assistant District Attorney at that time.)
It’s Christopher Dent.
Even with the limping gait, he looks every inch a proud father as he walks towards Harvey, eyes crinkling and arms wide open.
Harvey freezes.
Christopher pulls Harvey into a big hug. “I was in the gallery, ya know? Watched everything,” he says as he rubs one hand up and down Harvey’s back. “You were amazing, son. I sat there the entire time thinking, 'That's my boy!’ ”
“Yeah?” Harvey says. He doesn’t reciprocate his father’s hug.
The way his voice slightly breaks doesn’t go unnoticed by Bruce’s trained senses too.
Bruce watches the interaction between the two for a little longer and wonders how someone as big and tall as Harvey could suddenly look so small. Harvey—who stands fearless against Gotham’s worst criminals—is now standing frozen like a deer caught in the headlights in the presence of his own father. He may be smiling but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Time’s up.
Bruce steps in, clearing his throat before wrapping his hand on Harvey’s arm and saying, “I’m sorry, Mr Dent. Would you excuse us?” He flashes the most obnoxious smile he could ever muster. “We’re late for his victory party.” He adds a wink just for good measure.
There’s an obvious disapproval on Christopher’s face for the rude interruption—what with the way his eyes narrow and lips pressed thin as he looks at Harvey’s airhead of a friend—but he nods anyway, giving Harvey a final pat on the shoulder and tells him to keep up the good work.
After Christopher left, Bruce could feel Harvey deflate next to him. He squeezes Harvey’s arm gently. “You okay?” Bruce asks.
Harvey closes his eyes and breathes out a long sigh of relief. He nods and turns to look at Bruce. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say thanks but his eyes are soft with gratitude.
Bruce takes Harvey to their favorite hole-in-the-wall pizzeria for an early dinner. The tabloid loves to think that they both—being Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelors—love to paint the town red by going to fancy dinners and wild parties but in truth, this has always been their favorite way to hang out.
After a few slices of pepperoni pizza and a bottle of beer, Harvey still doesn’t explain anything and Bruce thinks that maybe he’s okay with that because at least now Harvey is somewhat back to himself—laughing jovially at Bruce’s silly antics and making witty comments here and there. His eyes warm whenever he looks at Bruce.
When Harvey is ready to tell, Bruce will be there to listen.