Left Handed Luck [Open]

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Thanks to the recent injuries Harvey sustained thanks to the stupid idiot Joker and his stupid idiot bombs Harvey's right arm and right elbow were recovering.  the arm he broke, the elbow he shattered.  Surgery got it all set back together, but recovery's a bitch, especially when you're right handed.

He sat inside a little cafe in the south side of town with the intent of enjoying some proper soul food, however it was not going all that well.  Of course he could eat with his left hand, but it was the act of him constantly trying to use his right hand and arm and having to constantly chide himself for attempting to use it.  After about five minutes into his meal he just let out a quiet but frustrated little growl.  he had a chicken fried steak before him and he could not cut it. 

The light bulb above his brain suddenly went off. 

He stabbed the steak with his fork, which was in his right hand, cut it with the knife in his left, set the knife down and took the fork into his left from his right and bit into the morsel of steak.  He was pleased with himself until he realized he would have to do this over, and over, and over, and over.

"For f*&k's sake, I need to get a girlfriend for this shit."

Harvey picked up his glass of milk and took a drink.  He set it down, looked at his food, and just placed his chin in his hand and sighed.  After a moment he growled and straightened up in his seat, picking his fork up, he stabbed the steak and just began to tear apart like a savage.

Haters gonna hate.

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It wasn’t hard to find Harvey, not if you were Commissioner Gordon. He’d lost count of the years he’d known the detective and the man he’d placed as head of the Major Crimes, but regardless he knew Harvey enough to know just where the man was likely to go and Harvey wasn’t known for his own cooking skills. He walked into the café and adjusted his glasses as his eyes adjusted to the inside lighting. For a winter’s day, the sun had been blaring.

He needed to talk to Harvey and not just to see that he was well. Jim was very worried about the damage the lug had gotten, but it was shadowed by the guilt that he’d not been there in the crosshairs with him, getting just as beat up. He’d been at the other explosive site, investigating himself and by the time word had gotten to him about the fiasco at the GCPD, Harvey was already in the hospital and his office was destroyed. He really didn’t care about the latter.

He threw his brown trench coat over the booth Harvey was sitting at and took a seat across from him. He said nothing. What he did do was reach across the table and snatch Harvey’s fork and his discarded knife. He made quick work of cutting up the steak that had been ordered and then sat the fork down for him to take again and sat back. He waited to order a cup of coffee, two sugars before he looked at Harvey.

“How long you in for,” he asked and pointed at his arm in the cast and sling, but even he couldn’t keep humor long. “I should have been there with you when that clown showed up. I should have known he was going to pull something like that.”

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Harvey was only mildly surprised to see Gordon come to sit across from him. They were both generally private men. Harvey had his bachelor status, Jim was a family man. Harvey just shook his head in embarrassment at his mothering.

"Aww thanks, Ma" uttered Harvey with the defiant sarcasm he was so famous for. He just sighed, unsure if he even had much of an appetite anymore. He sneered at Gordon as he took a bite, giving into the demands of his stomach.

"Doc said at least six weeks."

Harvey hated the hospital. He was a workaholic. He seemed to feel like the city would crumble into pieces if he missed even a day.

"Yeah, well, Commish, I'm good for somethin', sometimes. Besides, that lunatic has it out for you, we need you still tickin', I can take a few hits, you got that daughter to worry 'bout ya."

Harvey picked up his drink and took a swig. The waitress came by to see if Gordon wanted anything.

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Gordon only offered him a smirk and leaned back in the booth. “You were tearing at it like a rabid dog. You really forget how you look sometimes,” of course it was a good-natured tease. He may have been a family man and Harvey a bachelor, but they both got along. There was mutual respect for justice between them and years that Gordon had spent getting and keeping Harvey’s own trust and personal respect. In fact, when he’d become Commissioner he’d considered Bullock a critic he wanted to win over. He knew the man had a good heart and was happy he was one to see it.

“Six weeks…well it could have been worse. I was more worried when I learned you’d gotten two successive concussions.”

Despite his knowledge of Bullock’s dislike of hospitals, he was glad they’d treated him and he’d be fine. Still, while he’d have been trying to talk anyone else off duty, he’d learned not to do that with Harvey. Besides, he needed him.

His relief was quickly eaten with Harvey’s continued speech. His face went grave, but he quickly schooled himself as the waitress came up to him. He gave her a smile. “If you wouldn’t mine, I’d love a slice of that apple pie and a cup of coffee. Two sugars.” He nodded to her.

He waited until she was gone to turn back to Bullock. “Yeah, I’m aware he’s after me. When isn’t he? But I don’t need you getting hurt, Harvey. I need you in your top form especially if what you say is true. You’re no good to me laid up in a hospital room. So please,” he pled honestly, “be careful from now on.”

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Harvey knew he was right, he usually was, it was rare when he wasn't and that's what Harvey was around for. He was the fail safe. He scowled at the mention of the concussions.

"Eh, you know me well enough to know when I'm really bad off."

Harvey had been in bad enough situations before that Gordon knew when something was off. Harvey had habits and rituals each day, if those weren't graced then something was up even if he didn't realize it himself.

Harvey finished off his steak while the waitress took the order.

"I'll have a slice too, sweetheart."

Harvey ate at his greens and cabbage while Gordon continued. He eventually set his fork down and pushed the plate away from himself by a few inches before leaning forward onto his elbow.

"You and I both know that, but this was personal. He destroyed four stories of the building. I can almost guarantee you that he's about to start getting up close and personal, you should be watching your back. You should have a security detail on you at this point. Non-uniformed, of course."

Harvey took a sip of his drink. Of course he was no good laid up in a hospital.

"You live through two explosions in a day and come out as good as I did."

Harvey chuckled. He moved and bumped his elbow on the back of his chair. A look mixed with annoyance, anger, and ouch splayed across his face. he relaxed and let out a gasp.

"I hate this, shit, Commish. God, I wish I could do magic and make this one go away or something like that."

Harvey wish he knew Zatanna Zatara's number.

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The Commissioner had around the block in Chicago and in Gotham before he’d become Commissioner and even now that he was. He knew he was one of the more hands-on officials that Gotham had and that was his aim. He couldn’t just give orders and expect to sit back. He couldn’t do that either. He was an action kind of man, but he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m happy to find you not bad off, knowing you you’d still try and work.” He told him and he was serious. “I don’t like telling you that you can’t work.” Because yes, he’d known Harvey since he came to Gotham and known the trouble they’d both gotten into. He knew when Harvey was in bad shape. He was glad to see him fine beyond his arm.

He leaned forward as well when Harvey did. He smiled. “It’s not the first time I’ve been targeted by a rogue and certainly not the first time Joker has given that special honor,” he nodded, “but I know. It was very personal and he’s going to escalate quickly.”

He knew he would need to initiate the detail. Harvey was right. He needed one and he planned to make a call to set that up after leaving Bullock’s company. This needed to end, though, and soon. He didn’t need Harvey or himself ending up in the hospital, especially the latter. Three times in a week? He couldn’t imagine that. Still he chuckled at the other’s comment.

He sighed as Harvey hit his elbow and nodded, “You and I both. I know you how much you hate it.”

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Harvey chuckled a bit between bites at Gordon commenting on how much he hated telling Bullock he was to leave work for any given amount of time. The Detective knew he could be a bit of a nasty old bitch when it came to being told to take a hike. Unlike most people, Harvey preferred work over free time. It distracted him from the lack of a life he had.

"Yeah, which is why you should know to lay low. He'll get you one day, he won't kill you, I won't let that shit happen, but he'll do somethin' one'a'dese days that'll mess with yer head."

Harvey, at that last word, swallowed the last of what he had in his mount and dropped his fork.

"I just got an idea."

The waitress came along with their slices of pie and Gordon's coffee. After setting them down Harvey leaned in, picking his new fork up.

"Let's get through this pie and get to work. I know what to do."

The gears and steam were being put to work, Harvey knew what his next move was going to be, and would be damned if it didn't work. Even if it was a little crazy.

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Harvey was quite the brooding, moping, angry bastard when he was told to rest, to take a break from GCPD. Jim had had the honor of telling him those things more than once in his reign as Commissioner and he knew from experience just how much it rankled the man. He understood, however, he was often one to work overtime as well because with Barbara at college and living her own life, Gordon felt more and more like he held an empty nest. No one was really there when he came home and so he put himself into his work to forget the gnawing loneliness that plagued him too.

“What makes you think he’s not done that before? He has, more than once and he’ll do it again.” He shook his head. That sounded cynical, and part of him regretted it. “But I know you won’t. I trust you, Harv.”

Jim almost jumped at the clank of the fork to the plate. He lifted his eyes and regarded him. He opened his mouth to inquire, but the waitress delivered their pie. Gordon picked up his own fork and couldn’t help smiling. He picked up a forkful of pie.

He knew it could be crazy, it could be big, but if there was one thing Gordon had ever said and it be true, he trusted Harvey Bullock and was damn lucky to have him on his side.

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Once they got through the pie, Harvey insisted they go somewhere in which they could speak more privately. Thus, soon, they were at a bar. Harvey was writing down in his little notepad.

"So, the idea here is that he might - just might- go after me next. You stay out of sight from him and he'll come after me. When he does I'll be ready."

Harvey had gotten into planning mode. His idea was simple, get him at home, open balcony, unlocked door, and all sorts of plain clothes units would be ready for him nearby at his signal.

"I think he might try to come through the balcony with that pogo stick of his. I and at least a dozen other officers can be ready for him. The key is that you just can't be around for him to see you, then its off. We know how he operates. He always wants to find a way to get to what he wants. Maybe coming after me, in his mind, is a way to get to you. Babs has to be kept safe, if he can't get at you its me or her he'll go after next."

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From a diner to a bar. Typical, Gordon thought as he nursed a drink. Not alcohol, however, just water. He’d have opted for more coffee, but they didn’t serve that. He thought about offering that up as a suggestion. It could do the bar good business. Nothing was better at sobering him just a bit than a nice cup of black coffee.

He took a sip of his water. “Stay low and let him attack you. You’re going to have to sell your case more.” That was his initial response to Harvey’s suggestion. He couldn’t just let him do that, even Bullock was set on it. He needed more than that, and even with it, he still gave Harvey a skeptical look.

“The only part of your plan that eases me is the dozen officers with you. Otherwise, what are you thinking? What if he doesn’t come with the pogo stick? What if he tries something else? And the officers can’t get to you. You know him, I know him.” He gave him a stern look. “Barbara can be kept safe, but Bullock…you are a way to get to me.”

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Harvey looked at him with that last sentence. He gave Gordon this confused look for a moment before he eased it back a bit. He gave a nod and just took a drink a beer because it always made everything better. He set it down and looked at Gordon again and grunted off his little fuzzy heart feels that came with Gordon telling him, essentially, that without Harvey Gordon would be weakened in some way. Harvey just pretended it was a more work related type of way to be weakened.

"Look, I ain't on a lot of people's mind man, that department has run without me before, it could again. Not that I have a death wish or anything reckless like that, but I am a man tied to few strings. He's going to come after me one of these days, he has before. Might as well use it to our advantage when and where we can."

Another more purposeful swig of beer before slapping it down to the table top.

"Everything he's done lately he's had that damn pogo stick, except at that club owned by Miss Stone. I've heard one or two little rumors he's been spotted in that area of town. I live in that area, he's setting it up. He's probably ready to bag and tag me already."