Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Secunda Fortuna	By : angelwarrior1 Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 43890 -:- Recommendations : 7 -:- Currently Reading : 15
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I make no profit from writing this.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Secunda Fortuna

By: Angelwarrior1

Rating: M

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Harry Potter. I also make no profit from writing this.

Summary: He had survived the final battle, but he carried something with him. Fearing the reaction the wizarding world would have, Harry Potter left and traveled to Gotham City…

Beta: blackkat

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Chapter 4:

"Mr. Wayne! One more for us!" The flash of light brought Harry out of his shocked stupor.

Mr. Wayne? As in Bruce Wayne, the man everyone outside had been talking about? Who was this and what had happened to David? Harry internally snorted. This obviously was David, it was just that David Forrestor was a made-up identity for a rich man. Why the charade though? Harry felt so angry and betrayed and- and- Hurt. He felt hurt by this person, whoever he really was. He couldn't exactly let on that he knew about it either. He couldn't rush up to Bruce Wayne and punch him in the teeth like he wanted to. Couldn't shout all the obscenities running through his mind at the man. Couldn't ask him why- why had he lied like that to Harry of all people? Harry, who always had to be lied to right in the fucking face! Did he have, "Lie to me", stamped on his forehead or something?

The man, Wayne, had noticed him.

'Of course he noticed me, he's been seeing me almost every other night for the past couple of weeks!' Harry's internal voice sounded hysterical, even, to himself.

He must've still been in shock.

The man- Wayne, he reminded himself again- approached him.

"Out of Mr. Wayne's way, woman!" Someone shouted.

Harry vaguely noted it was the same person who cleared away all of the onlookers from earlier.

He would have told her to kiss his arse if he hadn't still been feeling so numb. His eyes just continued to stare at him.

"There's no need to be rude. Especially to such a lovely young woman. I'm terribly sorry Miss...?" Harry finally blinked and noticed the concerned look on the tailor-suited man's face.

"Riddle. Harleen Riddle." Harry started softly, cleared his throat, then finished solidly.

'Like you don't know, you fucker!' Harry's mind snarled for him in the absence of his ability to actually utter the words.

"Ah, a pleasure. Bruce Wayne." When Harry reluctantly reached out to shake, Wayne took his hand and kissed the back of it chastely.

Despite Harry's ire at the man, he couldn't help but blush.

"So, what's a beautiful woman like yourself doing here? I hope you're not in need of food for that little one there?" Wayne glanced at the round stomach that Harry was still holding and quirked a brow at the possessive hands.

"I thought a friend of my mine might be in here. I was quite obviously wrong." Harry glared at the lying bastard.

To the man's credit, he didn't even blink at Harry's words.

"And who might that be?" Wayne asked with a very convincing face of the clueless.

"David Forrestor." Harry bluntly stated, eyeing Wayne closely.

"Ah. I don't believe I've seen anyone around here who goes by that name."

Harry clenched his jaw in silent anger. The man wasn't lying, exactly, anyways. After all, unless Bruce Wayne had looked into a mirror recently, he wouldn't have seen David Forrestor. It was one of those tricky half-truths that Dumbledore always liked to throw at people.

For the first time, Harry actually felt grateful that he had so much experience with half-truths. It was easier for him to hear the unsaid partial lies as well.

"No, he obviously isn't here right now." Harry mumbled as he looked away from Wayne, who was still staring at him.

"Mr. Wayne, can we please get one last shot? With the young woman there?" Harry glanced wide-eyed over to the photographer, his mind screaming with warning bells.

"Certainly, if it's alright with our mother-to-be here?" Wayne looked at him in question and Harry snarled in defense.

"No, it is not alright with me. I don't come here on a regular basis to eat. I have food of my own at home. I was only here to look for someone and he obviously hasn't been here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going."

"I apologize. I didn't mean for that to come out as offensive to you."

"Yes, well implying that I can't feed my own child is certainly offensive to me Mr. Wayne. And you! Don't even think of snapping that picture or I'll break that bloody camera of yours, understand?" Harry whirled on the cameraman who was lining up a good shot with his camera.

The man paled and nodded furiously at the enraged woman before him, who was actually seriously scary despite his earlier thoughts of her seeming like the gentle type.

'I suppose he's smarter than he looks.' Harry silently observed, as the man rushed off, clutching his precious camera to his chest.

"I should hire you for any press conferences I have in the future." Harry's ears twitched slightly at the sound of Wayne's amused voice behind him.

He turned and glared at the man for all he was worth.

"Ouch. Have I done something unknowingly to gain that kind of look?" Wayne mock winced while looking genuinely curious of Harry's answer.

"I'm sorry. I suppose it's just one of those days. I was so hoping to find my friend here. Instead, I find a circus upon my arrival." Harry sighed out, letting go of his anger momentarily, while gesturing outside the door at where the crowd had once been standing.

It wouldn't due to keep showing such seemingly unnecessary anger towards Bruce Wayne. If he was living a double life, then he was bound to be loads more intelligent than he initially appeared. Harry would definitely be pissed off later in the privacy of his own home, though.

"What kind of friend is he?" Wayne asked in jest, though his eyes seemed to burn intensely at the question.

"Human shaped." Harry deadpanned, keeping his face blank as he thought of all his non-human friends.

He wondered where Buckbeak was at the moment. The feelings of nostalgia and homesickness flooded Harry and he couldn't help the slight cracking of his mask.

"Is something wrong?" A low, concerned timbre brought Harry back into reality.

He looked up to see the worried eyes of his most recent friend in the body of a stranger and yet... he didn't feel so strange to Harry. In that moment, he was simply Harry's friend, whoever that was. The icy anger that sat in Harry's chest melted slightly. No matter the man's reasoning, he would find out who the real man was. He would reserve judgment and hope that his findings while searching David Forrestor's spark were indeed good things, as his gut instinct told him they were.

"No. Everything's fine. Simply thinking. I do hope you won't find me terribly rude, but I really must be going now." Harry looked outside and noticed it was beginning to get dark out.

"Of course. If you'd like, I can give you a ride to your home." Wayne glanced outside as well and frowned at the coming night.

"No, thank you." Harry firmly replied.

"Are you sure? Those streets don't look very friendly." Wayne turned to look at Harry with plain concern on his face.

"I'm well aware of how friendly they are. I'll be fine. Goodbye, Mr. Wayne."

"Have a good night, Ms. Riddle." Bruce once more managed to get a hold of Harry's hand and dropped a polite kiss on the back of it.

'Say what you will about what a lying bastard he is, but the man certainly can be the perfect gentleman.' Harry mused silently in amusement, as he began the walk home.

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Bruce watched as Harleen left and pulled out his cell phone. The other side picked up right away.

"Alfred, bring the car around. I need a change of clothes." A slight upturn of his lip was the only indication of amusement at his words.

"Very good, Sir."

Bruce closed the phone flap and walked outside to wait for Alfred. The woman that was hired to control the crowd of onlookers continued her task as more people flocked now that he was on the sidewalk. He had specified that only one photographer be allowed to film the small event. A news reporter had arrived earlier and done a brief interview. The building wasn't very large, so it wasn't as if it could hold that many people in it. All in all, he felt it had been a success. He was sure Bruce Wayne would come across as a misguided philanthropist, giving out a generous donation while having his picture taken doing so, and seeming arrogant about the whole thing.

He wondered how the press would spin the latest pictures and footage of "Brucie" Wayne. His thoughts were cut off as his car came around the corner and stopped at the curve. Climbing in, he ignored the growing commotion of the crowd, as the person who attracted them in the first place left.

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Black fanned out to his left as his crouching form rested upon the roof corner. His hand raised the small, yet powerful pair of binoculars to his cowled face and he looked into the window across from him at the opposite building. He'd done this before, many times unsuccessfully, since the person inside usually closed their curtains.

This time he was met with victory. His masked eyes took in the graceful form of one Harleen Riddle. He trailed his eyes from head to toe of the close view he had, due to the enhanced sight of the binoculars. He sat patiently, and waited.

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Harry padded softly into his tiny living room and sat down on his large couch. He adored this couch, as it always felt like he was being cuddled by the big, soft cushions. It also helped that it was longer than he was, so he could easily fall asleep there and not worry about any uncomfortable awakenings.

He rubbed at his neck, and the choker that sometimes irritated it. Being overly paranoid usually helped him, but he couldn't stand wearing the fabric at the moment and unfastened it from his throat. His slim, strong fingers massaged the skin. He would have to put some pain cream on it. It paid to stock up in advance and Harry certainly had. There were all kinds of potions and creams from the wizarding world in one of his trunks.

He had, of course, charmed them to shrink and resize with only a spoken word. In fact, he'd placed that same charm on all of his things, as it made packing up and leaving a whole lot simpler. He was glad he hadn't needed to use the spell on anything but some of his trunks, which were in his bedroom.

Being away from magic was hard on him. When he had been a child, he had wondered many times why he existed. It was plain the Dursley's cared nothing for him, so he never understood why they kept him. They could have easily left him somewhere, yet they were always dragging him back at the last moment. He remembered wishing to be abandoned sometimes, but he always got scared when it looked like it would actually happen. Then there would be a hand, grabbing him by the shoulder, arm, or back of his neck, and pulling him away. The hand was always large in his memory. Bony, or mammoth in feel, and he was frightened of both. They felt horrible.

Harry blinked and snapped out of his bleak thoughts. He did miss it, magic. Magic gave him a life, a purpose. With purpose came burden, however, as upon entering a new world and escaping the other, he learned what these new people were willing to sacrifice. They were all so scared, hiding behind him as he tried to catch up and figure out all the ins and outs of the odd place in which he found himself living in.

Hogwarts was the only place he could ever honestly say felt like a home to him. To be so far from it now, where he should have been at that very moment- he was certain Hermione would throttle him soundly if she ever found him. She had pestered him gently about returning for his last year and eventually he'd caved and said that he would go back.

That was before, though. Before he knew that he was once more the abnormal one. Why did he think that life would suddenly become normal for him? What was normal for Harry Potter? Was it the standard all other people lived by, or was it something only he could have? A different kind of normal, that was only achievable by those who weren't of the ordinary? Resting his hand on his now rather large stomach, he decided that normal just wouldn't be the same for him as it was for everyone else.

He was going to give birth to Tom Riddle, after all. That was hardly normal by any stretch of the imagination. Gently, he lifted the fabric of his shirt softly above his unborn child and stroked his hand over the stretched skin.

He hummed quietly to his child and eventually lay back, humming until he fell asleep with his hand resting on the exposed roundness.

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He had been understandably shocked at first, upon seeing the exposed neck. Batman wasn't one to deny the truth, however, and filed away the view of a slightly-less-than-obvious Adam's Apple. So that explained the choker. What wasn't explained was the fact that if what he was seeing was, in fact, a man pretending to be a woman, how in the hell was he pregnant?

Past conversations and actions flowed in through his mind. All the odd quirks, like the phrases that sometimes slipped out. He knew they were slips because "Harleen" would shoot little looks at him after, as if he would call the young- man- out on the weird thing he'd just said. One word in particular caught his attention. Merlin- Harleen had said that word as one would if they were speaking of God or any other religious figure. It was always said very quietly, as if he never meant to utter it, but couldn't help it.

Many things pointed to Harleen being from another world, another culture. The lack of knowledge on the latest technology, for instance. Then there were the odd phrases. Even some of the objects in Harleen's home didn't look right. He recalled one occasion where he was looking at a very unique chess piece placed on Harleen's small mantle, and he swore he'd caught movement out of the corner of his eye the second he'd turned away. At the time he'd simply thought it was himself being overly paranoid, but now he played that scene over in his mind again from a different perspective. If magic were indeed real, then it would explain many of Harleen's actions- and also the whole pregnancy thing, his mind provided with twisted humor.

He would have to look into it, and play his role as David Forrestor carefully. He was nearly done scoping out the entire neighborhood as David, and it wouldn't do to have his patiently crafted persona ruined by one person.

Finished with his surveillance for the night, he put away the tiny binoculars and shot a grapple line off into the darkness, dropping from the corner ledge only a few seconds after and gliding away. The slight flutter of a cape the only sound heard after the initial grapple shot went off.

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Harry had continued seeing various doctors and having the growing Tom checked on a regular basis. Today was an appointment day, and as Harry once again spoke the charm activation on his black beaded bracelet he always wore, the same Confunded look came over the doctor's face.

He ignored any feelings of guilt that dully rose in him as he stared unwaveringly at the screen that showed Tom, his little Tom.

Harry knew it was practically courting disaster to even think of giving Tom the same name, but it felt wrong to think of him as any other title. He wasn't a Dark Lord anymore, and certainly not Voldemort. Harry wasn't sure how much of a soul this child would have, but it would much more than Voldemort had possessed at the end of their long war.

At this point, he could only do his very best, as it was far too late to change his mind about having Tom now. He'd grown attached, feeling some semblance of a bond growing with the little life inside him. Most would probably accuse the pregnancy of infecting him, clouding his mind and judgment. He could only scoff at the mere notion.

He was fine. They were fine.

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It had taken a few days to track down any leads that could help him resolve the reality of magic, but when he did, he found himself traveling far from Gotham to meet with a man who wasn't frightened of telling him the secrets of his kind. Always wary of potential traps, he was very guarded during their first meeting.

"You have traveled a long way, Mr. Batman. Why do you seem so convinced of the existence of true magic?" The old man looked at him with tired, yet wise eyes.

"Because I have seen enough evidence that points to the conclusion that magic can only be real. What do you know about the existence of magic?" Batman questioned the seated man.

"Oh, I know many things about magic. I know that it has existed for thousands of years. I know that some magic is very old and some is very young. I know that nothing is impossible with magic. I wonder, however, how much you know? What would you like for me to tell you about?" The brown eyes sparked briefly, as if lit by an inner fire.

"Male pregnancy. Is it possible?"

"Male pregnancy? Where on earth would you have found a pregnant wizard?" The eyes widened and the old man leaned forward.

"Never mind that, is it possible?" Batman growled menacingly at the old male.

He had yet to confirm whether the old man was a wizard himself.

"Yes, it is possible. Only in those of great magical strength. You'll forgive me for being excessively curious, but you are sure you have found a pregnant wizard?" The man's eyes held such hope in them.

"I've not concluded that fact yet. There's still some investigating I need to do. This has helped. Tell me, is there anything else I should know about powerful wizards?"

"Oh, there is much indeed." The eyes lit once more.

Over the course of the next few days, Batman returned and listened to several things the old man revealed about powerful wizards. One thing made the paranoid part of him rear up.

"They can sense magic in anything and anyone? You mean other magic users?"

"I mean anyone, Muggles, Squibs, wizards and witches. It doesn't matter. A powerful magic wielder can sense every human's unique signature of life magic that allows us humans to live."

"Muggles, those are the humans who can't wield magic. Can a powerful wizard sense them right away?"

"Oh no, not without prolonged contact. If a Muggle meets a powerful wizard only once then they have nothing to worry about. If they are friends who see these wizards on a regular basis, however, then they do have something to worry about."

"Is there a way to mask the signature?"

"There are a few spells one can use. Some hit wizards and witches in the past have cast a permanent spell on themselves that masks them from everyone. For Squibs and Muggles, they can have the spell cast on them or have an object charmed that they must keep on their persons."

"Where can I get an object charmed, and how will I know if it worked?"

"There is a test that is done after the charm has been cast. If it has been cast successfully, the person or object will glow a soft purple when a testing stone is held near the subject. If it has not been done correctly, the glow will be blue. As for where you can have yourself or an object charmed, I can do that right now. It only takes a moment."

Batman eyed the old wizard, as was now confirmed, and thought over everything he'd learned. He wasn't sure if he believed the man's test explanation. He knew he wouldn't be having any spells cast on him though. He supposed he would have to trust the old man with this at least.

"Why have you helped me so far? If magic isn't widely known about now, that can only mean that it's a worldwide secret. Won't you be in trouble for revealing so much to a Muggle?"

"Mr. Batman, I have been around for a very long time now. I am old and I am tired. I am not frightened by today's witches and wizards, because they are not as powerful as their past counter parts used to be. So, to me, there is no threat from the modern witch and wizard. There are, of course, the exceptions. Your wizard for instance, could easily cause me trouble once he gains the use of his magic again. As for you, I have heard much about you, Mr. Batman. I understand that you do not kill. It would be much easier for you to kill the majority of the criminals you capture, wouldn't it? No more trouble with them in the future?"

"Easier maybe, but not right. Killing isn't the message people should be encouraged to think is justified." Batman growled lowly in disgust.

The old man nodded, looking pleased.

"Well then, what object would you have me charm for you, Mr. Batman?"

Batman checked his belt compartments. Inside one, he found a penny with a hole in it. He'd forgotten he still had it. One night, while out on patrol, he'd found it on a rooftop. It was so unique that he'd pocketed it and just went on with his business. He handed the penny over to the old man, who looked at it curiously.

"My, such an interesting coin. I wonder how it got that hole in it? Well, no matter. A curious pick, Mr. Batman." The old wizard spoke as he started waving his hand over the coin.

Eventually the wizard stopped his hand movements and spoke a few words, in what Batman figured out was Latin. Soon he quieted and took the coin over to the testing object he'd spoken of earlier. Holding out the penny to the dull stone sitting on a table, the penny began to glow soft purple.

"Ah, success! Here you are, Mr. Batman."

"Thank you." Batman nodded his head to the wizard and turned, to signal his departure.

"I do hope things work out with your wizard, Mr. Batman." The old man said in farewell, as Batman jumped out of his window and glided away.

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Initially, Harry had done his best to ignore all the media around him. At the stores, he never bothered looking at the newspapers or tabloids. He'd gotten rather turned off to any kind of news due to the wizarding world.

Only after meeting Bruce Wayne did he realize what a mistake that had been. He ventured to a nearby public library and looked up all that he could about Bruce Wayne. What he learned about the man wasn't very encouraging. Apparently, the man was a terrible womanizer. There were barely any photos of the man without a different female hanging on him. There were also articles that depicted him as clueless, stupid and arrogant. Then there were the few that showed how careless and reckless he could be, as he read over the one article about his estate burning down.

Overall, the descriptions of character for Bruce Wayne didn't match up at all from what he'd gathered by the spark reading. The only conclusion he could clearly see was that Bruce Wayne was deliberately painting a terrible image of himself for the press. Why do something like that though? Did it have something to do with his charade as David Forrestor? Why the secret identity? The only thing Harry could make of it so far was that Bruce Wayne used David Forrestor as a way of escaping the public eye, if only temporarily. As for the act from Wayne, maybe he just wanted to be underestimated by all of his business rivals.

That was the only theory Harry could think of at the moment, given the evidence. He'd have to continue keeping an eye on the two sides of the man to see if anything telling was shown, however.

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He hadn't been able to play his role of David Forrestor for a number of days, due to his trip, but when he returned he dealt with any business Bruce Wayne needed to attend to. He then promptly took on the homeless man's part.

He went to see Harleen Riddle right away. He didn't bother wearing the new charm; only Batman would be using it. If there was any possibility of Harleen knowing he was Bruce Wayne, the only indicator he'd gotten so far was the hostility shown to Bruce Wayne. Unfortunately, that wasn't much to go on, as many people were hostile to the rich man on the first meeting. He would need to watch the young man closely, to see if he acted any differently towards David.

Upon arriving at Harleen's door, he rang the bell once and waited. The door opened a few moments later and he looked down into green eyes that lit up once the owner realized who it was before them.

"Mr. Forrestor! Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a few days. I do hope everything's alright."

"Sorry 'bout that Ms. Riddle. I didn't mean ta scare 'ya there. I kinda got busy helpin' a few of the locals out with little thangs. The days just seemed ta fly by without me even noticin' I was supposed to visit 'ya." He watched his reaction carefully, but if the young man didn't believe him, he was very good at concealing his disbelief.

"Well, I'm certainly glad you remembered me eventually. Please, come in. Have you been too busy to eat today?" Harleen teased as he walked over to the refrigerator and opened it.

It looked like he would be feeding him regardless of his answer.

"I could never forget you, Ms. Riddle. I ate this mornin', could stand to eat some of your wonderful food though." He walked in, hands in his pockets as usual, and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"My, so much flattery this afternoon. I assure you I'm not angry over your absence, simply worried." Harleen stood with his back to him, so he couldn't make out what the young man's face showed at the moment.

"I really didn't mean ta worry 'ya, Ms. Riddle." David replied.

He did genuinely feel a bit guilty for just disappearing on the man.

From what he had noticed so far, Harleen Riddle didn't have contact with anyone but him. David Forrestor was essentially Harleen Riddle's only source of human interaction. To take that away, even if only for a few days, seemed a bit cruel on his part.

It had been necessary, though, as the information Batman had gotten was vitally important. He had a strong hunch that this young man in front of him was a very powerful wizard, indicated by the fact that he was pregnant. The only thing Batman needed to know now was if "Harleen Riddle" meant harm to anyone, or if he was simply in hiding. If he was in hiding, Batman needed to know who was after the wizard, and who would frighten a wizard powerful enough to get pregnant in the first place.

He tuned out the rest of his Batman thoughts, confining that part of his brain to simply filing away anything he noticed during the visit that could be important for later analysis. The visit reminded him of why he so enjoyed coming in the first place.

Harleen was just as polite and welcoming as usual. The bright green eyes were animated and lively as they talked about nothing in particular.

They even spoke on ridiculous things that he normally wouldn't bother participating in.

"If you were trapped in an elevator with a lion, what would you do?"

"Why would I be trapped in an elevator with a lion? How did the lion even get inta the elevator?" David raised an eyebrow in doubt of their wacky conversation.

"I don't know, maybe the zoo keeper forgot to lock his cage and the lion was curious about elevators."

"Why would a lion be curious about elevators?"

"Maybe he walked by a building and saw people going into them, and then disappearing. Maybe he just wanted to know where all the humans were going."

"So he decided to find out by goin' himself? That's not a very smart lion."

"No, perhaps not, but a brave one. Well?"

"I think I would notice if a lion was in an elevator, so I wouldn't enter the darn thang."

"And if the lion was invisible?"

"How'd he get invisible?!" David couldn't help the laughter that spilled out.

"Because he found an invisibility cloak of course." Harleen smiled widely, eyes dancing with mischief.

"Or course. I really can't say what I'd do it that situation Ms. Riddle. I'd probably wet myself and pass out." His mind was already running through a solution to the scenario, grapple line around the legs, tie the mouth shut and remove the invisibility cloak, exit through the top of the elevator.

"Somehow, I don't think that's what your reaction would really be Mr. Forrestor. You don't strike me as the overly frightened type." Harleen watched him intently from over the rim of his mug.

"Well, given the outlandish scenario you just gave me-"

"Outlandish?! Have you noticed where we live Mr. Forrestor? This entire city is outlandish. You only need walk outside to witness a caped man running about fighting criminals."

"Batman, you mean." David wondered what Harleen's opinion of the masked vigilante was.

"Yes, him."

"Do 'ya think he's as crazy as everyone says?" Sharp blue eyes stared unwaveringly at the face of the man across from him.

"I don't think anyone but the man himself can really know that. After all, it's not as if anyone can just walk up to him and ask for his life story, or why he does what he does."

"How do 'ya even know he's a man? There have been rumors that it's a creature."

"Yes, a creature that ties up criminals rather than eating them. I think if it were a creature, it most likely wouldn't have any qualms about killing the crooks he finds. A simple man is a bit more boring for people to believe, which is why I think the rumors persist. I myself find it more extraordinary that it is a simple man, rather than a creature. A creature has all the weapons it needs naturally given to him. A man has to fashion his own. How does this man carry everything he could ever anticipate needing? He seems to travel with light armor. Perhaps on his belt?" Harleen's eyes grew distant, as if remembering something.

David could easily guess what, too.

"'Ya speak as if 'ya actually seen him."

Harleen snapped out of his thoughts and looked his way. He was silent for a bit and David thought maybe he'd gone too far.

"I did see him. Once. I was walking home from the store. I didn't have any food here, so I had to stop. A man that used to live here, he must have been waiting for me. He'd been watching me from the day I moved into this place. I wasn't expecting him to actually act upon his rather obvious desires, though. I couldn't get him off of me, since he was a very large man. Then he was suddenly gone. Batman had pulled him from me. He saved my baby. He saved me. I probably wouldn't be here right now if he hadn't shown up, so I don't care if he is insane. Better to be insane and help others than be insane and cause harm to others." During his tale, Harleen looked down at his enlarged stomach and placed his hands on top of it.

David didn't say anything to Harleen's story and the young wizard was silent as well. The rest of that visit was spent in silent companionship, as both minds drifted to other thoughts that were oddly attuned to the same subjects.

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It was one of Harleen's tired days. He noticed the young man nodding off about halfway through their usual visit. It didn't take long for Harleen to fall asleep completely once he quieted and silence took the room.

Soon he found himself going about the same routine he always went through. He laid Harleen out on the couch and almost rose, when he noticed the young man's throat. The choker was there as usual, and he couldn't help but move it slightly down so he could see the undeniable proof up close.

There it was, just as he'd seen through his binoculars. A smaller-than-normal Adam's Apple. He refrained from touching it, not wanting to wake the sleeping pregnant man. He was staring at a medical marvel and all he could do was leave, lest Harleen wake up and ask what he was doing.

Eventually he did leave, the quiet clicking of the door shutting the only indication he had been there.

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More and more, Harry noticed the differences between Bruce Wayne the playboy and David Forrestor the homeless man. He eventually gave in and bought a television, wanting to keep up on the news of Gotham.

During these news broadcasts, he would sometimes see glimpses of Bruce Wayne. The glimpses usually weren't good, as they always showed off how unorganized and downright dumb Bruce Wayne seemed to be.

His visits with David Forrestor always disproved those views, however, as the man constantly carried nearly flawless conversations with him. Harleen Riddle seemed to be the only one blessed with these peeks into the intelligence of the man. Sometimes, Harry felt like he'd met another Tom Riddle, as the man was always presenting a different side of himself.

Harry knew manipulation when he saw it, had been around it much too long not to. While Bruce Wayne and David Forrestor both manipulated people, the man behind both masks just didn't seem to have any malicious intent like Tom Riddle did. In fact, the man seemed to care very much about others, even if it wasn't obvious.

Bruce Wayne often gave glorious amounts of money to charity, but often no one paid attention to that fact because they were so busy noticing the mistakes and overall foolishness of said man.

Harry saw it, though, every time he watched any charity events on the news. Bruce Wayne never gave money to the useless causes, only the truly deserving ones. David Forrestor couldn't do much in the way of money, but he was always helping Harry out whenever he could.

Overall, the man was a mystery, and mysteries were what Harry thrived on. He craved good mysteries and Bruce Wayne certainly was a huge one.

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The doorbell rang, as was expected, and Harry went to open it. Upon opening the door, Harry was surprised when something green and leafy obstructed his view.

"Uh, Hello, Mr. Forrestor. What is that you have there?"

"Oh! Sorry 'bout that." The green was lowered and Harry could see a slightly blushing David standing there.

"No problem, but what's with the... broccoli?" Harry raised a brow and looked to David for an explanation.

"And asparagus. I got them with the extra money I earned during my absentee days. Figured I may as well get 'ya these to make up for the visits I missed." David seemed to be uncharacteristically embarrassed as he held out the, well, bouquet, as that was what it looked like.

Harry had to give the man points for originality, as he'd never even heard of, let alone seen, a vegetable bouquet.

"Well, they're a lovely shade of green. Thank you, Mr. Forrestor. Come in, please." Harry turned and took the green bouquet to his refrigerator, where he stored it for later use.

"Thank 'ya, Ms. Riddle."

"So, the usual coffee, I take it?" Harry turned around and was glad to see the man back to normal.

As amusing and, dare he say, boyishly cute, as an embarrassed David Forrestor was, Harry didn't want the man to be uncomfortable.

"That'd be great, Ms. Riddle."

Harry finished the usual preparations and brought David his coffee.

"Thanks, Ms. Riddle." David smiled at Harry through his ratty beard.

"You know, we've known each other for almost a month now. I think it's safe to say, that such formal titles can be done away with at this point."

David lowered his mug from his mouth and gave Harry a hard look of scrutiny that left him feeling just a bit squirmy. After a few seconds went by, David simply smiled again and went back to his coffee.

"Well then, I'll be sure 'ta take 'ya up on that offer and extend one of my own. Feel free 'ta call me David, Harleen." David stared at Harry over the rim of his mug.

Harry shivered unexpectedly at the lowering of David's voice as he used Harry's pseudo-name.

Harry wasn't sure what to expect out of this oddly formed friendship with the man of two identities, but he was certain that it would be just as interesting as any of his wizard-based ones. Harry smiled at David and the visit was spent with quiet conversation, interspersed with silent comfort.

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Thanks for all of the spectacular reviews, everyone! I really got this one done quickly due to all of the encouragement. As the 4th of July is coming up soon, I figured I would get this posted before everyone heads off on vacation. Hope it was worth the wait!

Angelwarrior1
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