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It was two pm on a Tuesday when Bruce Wayne walked by the observation windows of the Arkham Asylum Rec Room. Harvey was in the middle of a poker game with Jones, Joker, and Tetch. Between them, the game had swiftly dissolved into incoherency. Harvey was fairly certain Tetch was playing Go Fish. Joker was definitely playing Go Fish.
“Harvey Dent,” one of the guards said. “Guest for you in the Visitor’s Area.”
“And I fold,” said Harvey, excusing himself from the game. The others groaned.
“Boring!” the Joker whined.
Harvey let the guard lead him to the Visitor’s Area, standing still for the mandatory pat down. They waved him through quickly enough. The table in the Visitor’s Area was built like a police interrogation room; a set of cuff links on a foot of chain was bolted to the center. Harvey sat down and offered his hands to the guards.
Bruce Wayne was waved in shortly after, a Styrofoam coffee cup in each hand. Harvey smiled.
“It’s good to see you, Bruce,” said Harvey.
“You’re only here ‘cause you feel sorry for us,” Two Face grumbled.
“I missed you, Harvey,” said Bruce. He passed one cup to Harvey and it smelled heavenly. He held it carefully in his good hand. His left hand spasmed as though to knock it away.
“We don’t need your pity,” Two Face growled.
“Why don’t we flip the coin, and decide if Two Face gets to speak today?” Bruce suggested. Harvey lit up at the idea. Even Two Face looked interested. Harvey still held the coffee cup, not trusting Two Face not to knock it away in spite, so Two Face fished the coin out of their pocket and held it.
“Good, I leave. Bad, I get to throw that coffee in your face,” he growled at Bruce, and Bruce nodded.
“You can try,” the billionaire said, and Harvey groaned.
“Bruce, don’t go bragging about your one summer class of martial arts again—”
“Too late,” said Two Face. “Terms set.”
Two Face’s ruined face lacked much of the healthy skin required for expressive squinting, but the muscles under his eye still twitched. As much as Harvey loved Bruce, Two Face hated him in equal measure. Two Face flipped the coin and caught it midair. In his palm, he revealed Good.
“Fine,” he growled, and the muscles in the left side of Harvey’s face seemed to relax. It appeared Two Face had left for a bit; Bruce wasn’t particularly clear on the way of Harvey’s alter, but Harvey seemed to breathe easier.
“He’s only stormed off for a bit,” Harvey said, sipping his coffee carefully. Bruce always ordered some ridiculous thing to screw with the coffee shop employees, but the man was a master at the perfect order when he felt like it. Compared to the black sludge served at lukewarm temperatures in the Arkham cafeteria, this was heavenly. He tilted the cup towards Bruce. “How did you get them to let you bring this in?”
“I had to make it front of them,” said Bruce with a smile. “Had the coffee press brought in—”
“Not that monstrosity I saw in your mansion!” Harvey laughed. The coffee press in the kitchen of Wayne Manor was legendary. Harvey figured a person needed a six-week course just to operate it.
“Only the best,” said Bruce. He leaned in and whispered, "I'm leaving it behind as an incentive for good behavior for you guys," and winked. Harvey grinned.
"Maybe people will stay in Arkham just for the coffee."
"You figured out my grand plan. Just don't give the game away to the others, okay?" Harvey laughed. Bruce seemed to drink the sight in for a moment and then asked, "How are you doing?"
"How am I doing?" Harvey mused for a moment. "Pretty good in this moment, but... It's all the same, Bruce. I'm not really getting better. How long you gonna keep coming to see this sorry face?"
"Harv, you're stuck with me. I promise."