Chapter Text
There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the DA’s office after dark. Maybe a couple of cleaners on other floors, but Edward had checked the cleaning schedule and they should have been done with this floor already. And there definitely shouldn’t have been a lawyer in the records room.
The man hadn’t noticed Edward yet as he kept out of sight in the dark corridor, watching the man flip through files through the open door. He had a single lamp on and was focused entirely on his task. Edward strolled right into the room and he didn’t notice until he pressed the handle of his cane against his neck. The man froze and Edward smirked.
“Good evening. What are you doing here so late, little mouse?”
“What are you?” he asked.
Edward kicked his chair, spinning the man around to face him. He lifted the man’s chin with his cane. “What do you think I’m here for?”
His eyes narrowed. “Riddler.”
“You’ve heard of me.” Ed grinned.
"You leave riddles pointing to your next crime. Isn't that a little… obvious?"
"You're awfully mouthy for someone who could have his head blown off at any moment."
He smirked. "I'm terrified."
"You should be."
The man rolled his eyes. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it before I realized you were here. So what do you want?"
"I'm looking for a file."
"It's organized alphabetically."
Edward stepped back, taking his cane away from the man's throat. "That was… You're just going to tell me?"
“You’re just after a file. I have bigger fish to fry,” he said, turning back to the file on his desk.
Eddie snatched it away from him. “Carmine Falcone, huh? Dreaming big?”
“Bigger than the Riddler. ”
“Not everyone can appreciate genius.” He handed the file back, glaring.
“I will say, your riddles are entertaining at the very least,” the man said, watching Edward scan the cabinets for the Ns. “I liked the giant corn. Good touch.”
Edward ignored the heat that crept up his neck at that. A handsome man paid you a compliment. Get over yourself. He crouched to begin picking the cabinet lock so he didn’t have to look at him. “Yes, well, you shouldn’t do something if you’re not going to do it well.”
“Here, I have the keys.” The man walked over and leaned over Edward’s shoulder to unlock the drawer. Edward froze. Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me. “What files did you want? I know Nygma can’t be your real last name.”
Edward scowled. “Nashton. Both of them.”
He pulled out the files. “Edward and Ian. Brother?”
He grabbed the files from him. “Father. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Edward started for the door but froze when the man spoke again. “Don’t forget to clear the CPS file.”
“Excuse me?!” He whirled around, raising his cane. “How dare you-”
“The way you froze when I came near you. I used to do the same thing. Can’t stand to have anyone within two feet, right? I’m sorry, I should have asked first.”
Edward pointed his cane at him, breathing heavily and trying to pull his anger under control. “If you- I-”
The man sat back at the desk. “Have a good night.”
He stood in the doorway sputtering for a few more seconds before spinning around and storming out. Stupid, ignorant worm.
The man’s name is Harvey Dent. He’s an ADA who was already making a name for himself as being dedicated to justice and unafraid to tackle corruption in Gotham. He’s expected to run for DA next year and, if he wins, will be the youngest DA in Gotham history. He has a wife, Gilda. They got married just last year and are, for all appearances, deeply in love. He has a close relationship with Bruce Wayne, having attended college together.
Edward closed his laptop with a groan. It had been two days and he couldn’t stop thinking about Harvey Dent. He’d looked the man up when he got home (after deleting all Nashton files from CPS servers), hoping to find something he could use against him. Having someone in the DA’s office might be helpful, after all.
But instead he found himself obsessing over Harvey fucking Dent. The man was… well, he was good. He was clever, he was good at his job, he was brave, he was gorgeous. Edward wouldn’t be able to blackmail him, not from all the digging that he did. The man was practically the gold standard for what lawyers should be. Someone incorruptible by someone like Edward.
He desperately wanted to corrupt him. Someone like that, when he let go… It would be incredible.
He had to see him again.
Eddie grabbed his hat and cane. He debated walking before deciding that a dramatic entrance would be much more fun and grabbing his grapple gun. Better to be memorable, he thought.
It was late. There probably wouldn’t be anyone at the DA’s office anymore. Dent’s file suggested that he worked late often. Hopefully Eddie would catch him before he left, while he was the only one there.
What would his pretext be for being there? Oh, hi there, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for two days so I’m showing up at your work because I just need to see you again to stop myself from going insane. Do you want to maybe have sex on your desk so I can get whatever this is out of my system and go back to being a criminal mastermind?
Yeah, that would go over well.
He landed on the fire escape of the building across the street. His research had indicated that Dent’s office should be the third window from the right on the fifth floor, and yes, the light was still on! The window was even open. Okay, pretext. Pretext.
Screw it.
Edward swung across the street, gliding smoothly through Dent’s window. “Good evening.”
The man in question startled. “What- Riddler?”
He bowed. “At your service.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I did some research on you, Mr. Dent. You’re quite interesting.” Edward looked around the office slowly. Mostly just law books and files. A single framed photo of a woman he recognized as Gilda.
“I’m really not,” Dent said.
“Oh, anywhere else, you wouldn’t be. But in Gotham? An honest man, looking to clean up the city?” He tapped his desk once with his cane. “ That is interesting. Not many people would be so open against the Roman. I hope you’ve got good life insurance.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Merely concern. Gotham doesn’t have many intelligent citizens. I’d hate to see it lose one of its few.”
Dent crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, his smile relaxed. Eddie’s stomach flipped. “I don’t think you give them enough credit.”
He sniffed. “If anything, I give them too much credit.”
“You grew up here, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You’ve seen what they’re up against then. How underfunded the schools are. What a disadvantage the poorer citizens are at. Half of them only break the law to feed their families, while the rich have more than enough and break the law just to prove they can.” Dent’s eyes blazed. “And then when they get caught, the poor are the ones who take the fall for them, ending up in jail and just making it harder to break out of the cycle. People like Bruce are doing what they can, but-”
Eddie snorted. “Really? You’re going to praise Bruce Wayne? ”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“He’s an absolute idiot! The man doesn’t possess a single brain cell!”
“That’s just how the public sees him. Bruce is a good man. He’s kind. He’s trying to make the city better. He saw first hand how dark Gotham can be. He wants to change things.”
“By staying outside the city away from us lower classes?”
“And what are you doing exactly? Tormenting the one person who’s actually trying to fix the city?”
“Don’t think so highly of yourself, you’re-”
“ Batman, you idiot.”
“Don’t call me that!” Edward yelled, rage flashing in his chest.
Dent sighed. Took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Edward stared at him. He took a moment to truly look at Dent. The dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the way his tie hung loosely around his neck. The knuckles on his right hand were bruised. “When was the last time you slept?” he asked.
“I’m sorry?” Dent tilted his head to the side slightly, confused. It was… endearing.
“It’s late. Don’t you have a wife to be getting home to? Or are you… out all night?” His heart pounded in his chest.
Dent sighed and sunk in his chair. “You sound like Gilda.”
“Well?”
“I sleep. I just… not a lot. I have work to do. Every day that Carmine Falcone is free, people are in danger. I can’t rest until Gotham is safe.”
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
“I’ll help you.” Eddie pulled out his grapple gun and climbed onto the window frame. “Go home to your wife, Dent. Get some sleep. I’ll get information on the Roman for you.”
He shot off into the night before Dent could reply, his heart pounding and mind racing. Who are you, Harvey Dent? Are you the man I think you are? And if you are… What do I do with that?