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Description
No one was sure who had burned the place down, but, down it had burned.
"Shit…" Dick said breathily, running a hand through his auburn hair, he lifted his feet and placed them on the kitchen table.
"What's happened now Master Dick…?" Alfred asked across the room from where he stood cooking.
Dick clicked a few buttons on the computer, "One of the villain's hideouts has been burned down, third one this month."
Alfred sighed, "I'll inform Master Bruce."
"You may not want to…" Dick said solemnly, "It was Harvey's place."
"Oh lord…"
Dick leaned further back on his chair, "I'll check it out, once I'm sure Harvey is ok I'll tell him."
Alfred nodded, sighing gently, Dick looked over at the old man, surprised by his quietness, "Alfred… What happened between Bruce and Harvey? They were friends, I get that, but… Bruce's reaction."
"They weren't just friends," Alfred said, approaching Dick with a bowl of food, "They've known each other since they were 10, when Harvey changed… it was 19 years of… constant contact, erased. There was not a day that Bruce didn't see something of him."
Dick nodded, smiling sadly, he understood; Bruce thought he knew Harvey, and then, suddenly, he became a different person.
It must have been awful to lose someone he'd been friends with for that long.
"And now the same thing has happened with Joker…" Dick said, taking the food Alfred had passed him.
"It's the business with Harvey all over again," Alfred said, turning back to the stove to ladle some food onto Bruce's plate.
"It wasn't this bad with Harvey."
Alfred shook his head, "It still took a toll on him, they were very close…"
Alfred remembered how bad it had been, Bruce had refused to sleep until he had found the man who was once his friend. He had walked the house unable to speak of anyone but Harvey.
They had been more than friends, that was obvious to Alfred, he had expected Bruce to admit it after Harvey had gone, but he hadn't, and he'd driven himself mad over it.
"Do you think he would have reacted this badly if he had died?" Dick asked.
Alfred nodded, wondering to himself if it was Joker's death that had caused Bruce to admit his feelings for the clown. Maybe if Harvey had died he would have admitted it then too, rather than hiding the emotion in himself.
He still refused to admit to them, getting angry when anyone suggested they were more than 'just friends'.
"Alfred!" Bruce's voice shouted from the other room, making the old man's heart jump into his throat, "Is the food ready yet?"
Dick bit his lip as Alfred replied and finished preparing Bruce's food.
How much of the conversation had Bruce heard…?
Dick got to his feet and left the room, taking the route that would not take him past Bruce.
He would need to go and investigate the scene of the fire, he would do that night, he had some research to do before then.
If only he could remember where he'd left his blue book.
…
Dick watched Bruce and Tim speed off in the Batmobile, he himself began to follow on his bike.
He was sure, quite sure, that Bruce should not find out about the fire, not yet.
He sped towards the burned building on his own, letting Tim show Bruce away.
He stopped at the apartment building: the top corner of it was stained an ugly shade of dark grey.
Harvey had been on his way to rehabilitation, he was on parole and hadn't broken it at least.
He climbed to where he knew Twoface's apartment was, and entered it.
He had to keep light on his feet while walking the place, he knew it hadn't been extensively damaged, but he was unsure where, or if, the floor was weak.
He could see that the fire had started in the kitchen, probably meant to look like a gas leak, though it was obvious at first glance that the cooker was electric.
What idiots pulled this shit?
…It had to be the Jokers, they were the only ones who would do this so clumsily.
Making it so obvious who it was.
But they had no motive to do this. Someone must have hired them to do this, but who.
They must have left something.
It looked to be a two bedroom apartment, with a large living room, luxurious bathroom and an over-stocked kitchen.
More than Twoface deserved.
Not just that, more than he would have needed.
There were two people here, that soon became obvious: the duplicate meal on the coffee table in the living room, two separate cups, one filled with coffee, one with juice.
The other inhabitant, judging by the garish décor of the second bedroom, was the Riddler.
Though, the bed didn't seem to have been slept in, not for… at least 2 weeks.
So…
Had he just been staying during the day?
Then where had he been going at night?
And why was his room decorated?
That made no sense.
It didn't, not until he searched Harvey's room, and found 2 indents in the sheets. One the approximate size of Harvey, one the approximate size of Edward.
The sheets were stained with sweat, and…
"Ew!" Dick almost shouted, throwing the sheet away from himself, "Ew, ew, eww!"
He wiped his hand on himself, "Damn."
Now not only were the villains working together…
"They're…"
This was important, this was something Bruce must know.
He searched more through the room, and again through the living room, on the coffee table there was a small square of yellow paper, Dick frowned.
'One step closer, S'
He folded the paper and stowed it on himself; he'd run the note through the computer and see if he could find any prints on it, or analyse the handwriting to see who had left it.
Who the hell was 'S'?
…Batman had more experience with these villains as of late, maybe it was someone new who had shown while Dick had been gone, and so Dick didn't know them as extensively as he did the old ones.
He had entries in his blue book that were only the photo's and names, no info.
He needed to fix that, before he fell behind.
A sound buzzed into his ear 'Nightwing! Get here now! Batman's flipped!'
.

Description
No one was sure who had burned the place down, but, down it had burned.
"Shit…" Dick said breathily, running a hand through his auburn hair, he lifted his feet and placed them on the kitchen table.
"What's happened now Master Dick…?" Alfred asked across the room from where he stood cooking.
Dick clicked a few buttons on the computer, "One of the villain's hideouts has been burned down, third one this month."
Alfred sighed, "I'll inform Master Bruce."
"You may not want to…" Dick said solemnly, "It was Harvey's place."
"Oh lord…"
Dick leaned further back on his chair, "I'll check it out, once I'm sure Harvey is ok I'll tell him."
Alfred nodded, sighing gently, Dick looked over at the old man, surprised by his quietness, "Alfred… What happened between Bruce and Harvey? They were friends, I get that, but… Bruce's reaction."
"They weren't just friends," Alfred said, approaching Dick with a bowl of food, "They've known each other since they were 10, when Harvey changed… it was 19 years of… constant contact, erased. There was not a day that Bruce didn't see something of him."
Dick nodded, smiling sadly, he understood; Bruce thought he knew Harvey, and then, suddenly, he became a different person.
It must have been awful to lose someone he'd been friends with for that long.
"And now the same thing has happened with Joker…" Dick said, taking the food Alfred had passed him.
"It's the business with Harvey all over again," Alfred said, turning back to the stove to ladle some food onto Bruce's plate.
"It wasn't this bad with Harvey."
Alfred shook his head, "It still took a toll on him, they were very close…"
Alfred remembered how bad it had been, Bruce had refused to sleep until he had found the man who was once his friend. He had walked the house unable to speak of anyone but Harvey.
They had been more than friends, that was obvious to Alfred, he had expected Bruce to admit it after Harvey had gone, but he hadn't, and he'd driven himself mad over it.
"Do you think he would have reacted this badly if he had died?" Dick asked.
Alfred nodded, wondering to himself if it was Joker's death that had caused Bruce to admit his feelings for the clown. Maybe if Harvey had died he would have admitted it then too, rather than hiding the emotion in himself.
He still refused to admit to them, getting angry when anyone suggested they were more than 'just friends'.
"Alfred!" Bruce's voice shouted from the other room, making the old man's heart jump into his throat, "Is the food ready yet?"
Dick bit his lip as Alfred replied and finished preparing Bruce's food.
How much of the conversation had Bruce heard…?
Dick got to his feet and left the room, taking the route that would not take him past Bruce.
He would need to go and investigate the scene of the fire, he would do that night, he had some research to do before then.
If only he could remember where he'd left his blue book.
…
Dick watched Bruce and Tim speed off in the Batmobile, he himself began to follow on his bike.
He was sure, quite sure, that Bruce should not find out about the fire, not yet.
He sped towards the burned building on his own, letting Tim show Bruce away.
He stopped at the apartment building: the top corner of it was stained an ugly shade of dark grey.
Harvey had been on his way to rehabilitation, he was on parole and hadn't broken it at least.
He climbed to where he knew Twoface's apartment was, and entered it.
He had to keep light on his feet while walking the place, he knew it hadn't been extensively damaged, but he was unsure where, or if, the floor was weak.
He could see that the fire had started in the kitchen, probably meant to look like a gas leak, though it was obvious at first glance that the cooker was electric.
What idiots pulled this shit?
…It had to be the Jokers, they were the only ones who would do this so clumsily.
Making it so obvious who it was.
But they had no motive to do this. Someone must have hired them to do this, but who.
They must have left something.
It looked to be a two bedroom apartment, with a large living room, luxurious bathroom and an over-stocked kitchen.
More than Twoface deserved.
Not just that, more than he would have needed.
There were two people here, that soon became obvious: the duplicate meal on the coffee table in the living room, two separate cups, one filled with coffee, one with juice.
The other inhabitant, judging by the garish décor of the second bedroom, was the Riddler.
Though, the bed didn't seem to have been slept in, not for… at least 2 weeks.
So…
Had he just been staying during the day?
Then where had he been going at night?
And why was his room decorated?
That made no sense.
It didn't, not until he searched Harvey's room, and found 2 indents in the sheets. One the approximate size of Harvey, one the approximate size of Edward.
The sheets were stained with sweat, and…
"Ew!" Dick almost shouted, throwing the sheet away from himself, "Ew, ew, eww!"
He wiped his hand on himself, "Damn."
Now not only were the villains working together…
"They're…"
This was important, this was something Bruce must know.
He searched more through the room, and again through the living room, on the coffee table there was a small square of yellow paper, Dick frowned.
'One step closer, S'
He folded the paper and stowed it on himself; he'd run the note through the computer and see if he could find any prints on it, or analyse the handwriting to see who had left it.
Who the hell was 'S'?
…Batman had more experience with these villains as of late, maybe it was someone new who had shown while Dick had been gone, and so Dick didn't know them as extensively as he did the old ones.
He had entries in his blue book that were only the photo's and names, no info.
He needed to fix that, before he fell behind.
A sound buzzed into his ear 'Nightwing! Get here now! Batman's flipped!'
.