maskormenacelogs | walking beside the guilty and the innocent

[ Harvey nods his head, his eyebrows raising and eyes -- well, eye, since the left one is only a glass replica -- looking cautiously alight at the idea. ]

You got that right. I don't know what else I'd do -- I've been at this pretty much most of my life by now. It's a step down from District Attorney, but we all have to start at the bottom. Sometimes more than once.

"Lead the way. Or I can," Harvey says, tilting his head coyly to one side. There are a few diners open at this hour as there often are even in towns like this -- most have at least one 24-hour dining establishment, even if it's crap. Harvey casts his gaze up and down the block, scoping out various possibilities.

"But can you help me out of my tie?" He adds, touching Matt's arm with his elbow as he begins to walk. "We can use it to wrap."

As she speaks, Harvey realizes how ridiculous it is to ask her the questions he's asking, some veiled attempt at assurance, or validation. How pathetic, he thinks -- but typical, though thankfully the voice that always chimed in to call him a coward was silent today.

He's not evil, but he isn't only good, either. He'll settle sometimes for just not being bad, even knowing he is that. But when it's easier to hide, it's easier to try.

"It is complicated. But if it wasn't we wouldn't need lawyers," he says, deciding to keep it simple. "What over-complicates it even further is when the law can't cover 'right and wrong' the way people think it should."

[ Harvey runs his hand through his hair, which is slicked back except for the the curl that hangs over his forehead -- the left side is even and looks real as the right, despite being mostly implanted or extensions. ]

They do make mistakes. But some of them are more obvious -- you know that, Lil. Commit murder or assault, push people off of b-- [ A pause. ] bridges, you got to expect consequences.

I'm not interested in defending guilty criminals.

[ She imagines they're both thinking it. Remembering how he'd pushed her into the water that day. That quick change of words, the corrected phrasing -- it doesn't fully divert her thoughts from the memory. But she'd already decided to let that go, so she doesn't call attention to it, though her stare, when it finds his face, is slightly harder somehow. ]

Y'ain't interested in defendin' guilty criminals.

[ She echoes him, watching him. ]

Y'mean y'ain't interested in defendin' folks like y'self?

[ Harvey's eyebrows lower down over his eyes, his expression solemn and a bit tense. His eyes narrow, looking at her as if she said something offensive. ]

No, I'm not. [ It's firm, decisive, and after he says it he glides his eyes off of Lil to stare forward. He looks at the book sitting in front of him and at his curled hand within which his coin is gripped tightly. ] The law protecting the guilty is one of the biggest and most clear corruptions of justice inherent in the entire system. Everyone's entitled to a lawyer, but I'm entitled to choose who I don't want to represent.

See, he does this thing, where he seems to just find excuses to touch Matt. And Matt is not necessarily a "must have personal space at all times" kind of guy, but there is no way to avoid drawing the conclusion that he draws, which is that Harvey really really desires physical contact with him, for whatever reason.

And yet, with the lack of other signals that point to that kind of interest, Matt isn't sure what conclusion he's meant to draw.

"When we get there," he agrees, for lack of any reason to object. "The light might make it easier for you to help me." As though they don't both know that Harvey's help is unnecessary. Or maybe Harvey doesn't know. Matt still isn't clear on that. "It's not bleeding too much now, is it?" All innocent concern.

Guess there wouldn't be a whole lotta use in callin' y'then. Seein' as I'd probably only ever need a lawyer if I'd actually done somethin' bad.

[ Which she isn't necessary above, either. Bad things, that is. Sure, the woman is reformed enough and it isn't as if she has any deep, vicious desire to do evil to anyone. But she is reckless. And passionate. And violent. That combination always leads to trouble eventually.

Still, she only shrugs, not entirely serious when she goes on mildly: ]

Guess there's always Matt.

"No, sometimes the law comes with too many technicalities." Despite her role as a hero, she doesn't mind ignoring a few rules here and there if it means getting done what has to be done. Anyone who puts on a costume and does what they think is right adheres to that idea.

"But that's why we have superheroes," she adds lightly. Moments before, she looked serious, considering what he had to say, but she smiles then. Kate can at least make light of that aspect of the conversation. "Or some of us do. I admit that it's still hard for me to imagine a world without them."

[Edgeworth...Well. He's not the sort of person who has a face that's even capable of lighting up; he's a grim sort of man by nature, after all, and his expression tends towards the morose even when he's just at rest. But there's definitely a lessening of moroseness that answers those words, a new energy that enters his face; he nods to the chair beside Dent and asks:]

May I sit?

Be my guest. We might as well sit together, as long as we're both here.

[ Harvey moves his own chair over slightly, since he was positioned closer to the middle of his table than to the edge, having been the only one there. ]

Hard at work yourself, huh?

Innocent people need lawyers too. And not every guilty person is necessarily a criminal.

[ He raises his eyebrow then, before shrugging his own shoulders in turn. Not that it matters too much -- he's not out to argue semantics. "Guilty criminals," to him, means something specific, not some thug who robbed a jewelry store or something. There's a reason he's normally prosecution.

Harvey tenses at the mention of Matt's name. ]

Matt has integrity. Don't force him to represent a murderer.

In some ways, the physical contact is reassuring to Harvey. In other ways, he takes some power in how he can tell it makes Matt tense. He says nothing at first but "Whatever you say," as they walk, fingers lingering against Matt's arm before he withdraws them so that they're just walking side-by-side, their footsteps echoing in the quiet evening.

"It isn't so bad," he adds finally, after a few minutes pass. "It was never that deep, but I think the worst of it's over. You're a good friend, Matt."

The law does come with too many technicalities; Harvey agrees with some, but he's been ruined by others. Even before he was a criminal himself, it's those little loopholes that shielded corruption that ripped his life apart.

"Hard for me, too," he says, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "I don't know if I remember a time when vigilantes weren't part of the landscape... but Gotham doesn't attract the 'super.' Gotham attracts madmen and people that get sacrificed to them."

Is it melodrama if it's true?

I ain't a murderer.

[ Lil eyes him for a long moment, confrontational. She sees the way he tenses at the mention of Matt Murdock -- she remembers, how he'd asked her not to tell Matt what had happened that day on the boat. There's something there, even if she doesn't know exactly what it is.

Finally, she leans onto the table, reaching across it purposefully pat him on the cheek in a way that isn't entirely friendly before she withdraws. ]

Y'might got this pretty new face, but I know you're still you under that.

Not for the first time, Matt wonders just how much Harvey knows about him. Everybody has made it abundantly clear that Daredevil should no longer be considered any kind of secret, and yet Harvey hasn't mentioned it once. Does he know how Matt does what he does? Is it an elaborate game, all these subtle forced touches, or does it matter at all?

"I worry about you," Matt says, quietly, because that's the truth. It doesn't matter if they're really friends- certainly he hesitates to think of Harvey as a friend. Too many missing pieces. Too much he still needs to know. But he does worry. Genuinely, honestly, with a very real concern for his well-being. "I want to be sure you're all right."

"I think I know something like that. Only it's called Los Angeles." Gotham is another name for New York, another name for Brooklyn specifically, so she isn't certain if he means that—or the Gotham in the Batman movies. Kate decides it's best not to ask for specifics.

"Are they all linked together there?" She pauses, considering her question at length. "These ... madmen?"

[ Harvey eyes her back, something darker in his gaze then; his eyes narrow, brows low, and that lock of hair casts a shadow down his face to his pursed, scowling upper lip.

He pulls back from her touch, hand lifting as if he expects her to grab him, or rip at his face, try to undo his hard work. When she doesn't, he almost relaxes, but not entirely.

Definitively and defensively, he says: ]

This is me. Who do you think I am, Lil?

Sly is not a word normally used to describe either Harvey or Two-Face, but he is not a person without an ounce of sense or cunning. He is (was) a lawyer, and if there is anything Harvey knows his way around when he's thinking clearly, it's how to utilize information. How to wield it. Harvey is, of course, not alone in the driver's seat.

But it's always a risk, dragging secrets into the light.

"You worry about me," he repeats, laughing like he finds the sentiment unnecessary. Thoughtful, but unnecessary. He pats Matt's shoulder again, but briefly. "Then I'll volunteer as your good deed for the day. Am I allowed to worry about you?"

"Los Angeles is nothing like it," Harvey says with a smirk and a shake of his head, his lips drawing together in a tight yet unfamiliar way. It's foreign to be able to close his mouth like this again, not feel the numbing stress of his left side constantly gaping and exposed.

It's a strange question, and a hard one to answer. He almost shakes his head, but hesitates. "In some ways," he relents. "Yes and no. They come together under a similar flag. It's not a shared psychosis, more like a shared cause."

[ Her eyes narrow at him slightly. She can't explain why exactly -- she didn't sit down with him to pick a fight, that wasn't her intention at all -- but she suddenly feels a little volatile, now that they've come to this subject. ]

I ain't gonna bring up what happened between us, 'cause I said I'd let it go.

[ She leans forward, lowering her voice. ]

But I know what y'did t'Frank Castle. An' I ain't let go of that yet.

[ Harvey frowns, the lines beneath his eyes and across his forehead standing out more starkly when he does even if it does little to ripple his "attractiveness." It's a drawn expression, past the point of stern but not quite hitting angry.

Not quite. The color rising in his cheeks indicates he's close and perhaps, with effort, keeping it down. ]

Don't know what you're talking about. [ He says it stiffly, his voice also low. ] But I'm sure Frank Castle had whatever it was coming to him. Calling me a criminal -- what about him?

[ Her own expression skirts the border of angry too -- intense, but not yet bad tempered. She's focused on him almost singularly, as if it's important to her somehow to get to the bottom of this, to know him and what's going on here, underneath the surface of his newly handsome face.

It's hard to say if she understands why herself. ]

It ain't about bein' a criminal or not. [ She's always been more of a morally grey type anyway. ] It's about hypocrisy, Harv.

Don't call me a hypocrite.

[ He feels his temper, hot and blunt like a hammer, strike against his temples as if trying to escape. His back teeth grind together and his hands shake slightly, though he tries to still them. ]

Don't talk to me about hypocrisy. [ He flings his law book off the table. ] What the hell do you want? What do you want?

[ She doesn't flinch. But not a lot of things can get her to flinch anymore, not after what she's been through. When his book flies off the table, it draws her attention -- a fleeting distraction -- before her stare finds his face again, a frown drawing at the corners of her generous mouth. ]

Maybe I jus' want you t'know that y'ain't foolin' me.

[ She tilts her head up at him. ]

I lived with you, Harv. An' I survived you. I know y'better than y'might want me to.

walking beside the guilty and the innocent

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