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Gotham police headquarters
March, 1988
"Montoya." Police commissioner James Gordon said as he leaned over the desk of Renee Montoya, one of his best detectives on one rainy spring evening. It was near the end of his shift, Jim had his raincoat swung over his shoulder and he had one last thing to do before he left.
Renee Montoya looked up from her paperwork, gaze slanted with curiosity but her brown skinned hands never stopped moving. That was Montoya. Hardly anyone multitasked better than her. "Yes Jim?"
"Before I head out, I'd like to pass something off to the DA. You know where she is?"
"Recording interview room. Apparently Attorney Porter is getting acquainted with Gotham's super villains. She's been there practically all day. If I were a betting woman, I would say she's obsessed." Montoya scoffed but there was a reason for it. Montoya and Porter had butted heads from the day they met. Although Renee had enough sense to not let it cost her her job. Still, Renee Montoya had no problem admitting she did not like their recently elected da.
"Thanks." Gordon quickly strode off for the recording room.
He wasn't surprised. Her first day as District attorney while he was giving her a tour, Two Face had been hauled into the county jail. Porter got to see Two Face in his jail cell before his brazen escape just outside the county jail into a cloud of smoke. She probably wanted to know everything about him.
District Attorney Janice Porter had been appointed just several months ago to replace murdered DA David Stevens. A native Gothamite recently returned, she had been the DA of Boston for over 10 years. Harvard Law, top of her class. Quite a lot of experience for a woman relatively young. But. Boston was not Gotham. And Jim and Montoya weren't the only cops who doubted Porter could do the job.
She wasn't a Harvey Dent. Hardly even Stevens, who proceded Harvey. Both were good men. Gotham had chewed them up and spit them out. Murdered one and maimed the other. What would it do to Porter?
Reaching the door to the recording interview room, Jim Gordon raised his arm and knocked with a thump. Within a few seconds, a grumpy technician answered. "Gordon." The technician greeted.
Seated cross-legged in a chair in the middle of the recording room sat their new attorney, Janice Porter. Glued to a series of televisions so engrossed she did not even see or hear. What video she was lost in was interesting and Jim Gordon took the time to notice it.
It was video footage of all manner of robberies, capers and murders caught on camera by Two-Face and his gang. The Psir of Jacks Casino robbery, Gotham 2nd National Bank robbery, as well as trial footage from the day he murdered Sal Maroni. Jewelry stores. But these weren't Two Face's only crimes, half the crimes he committed couldn't be caught on camera. Not every business could afford expensive security cams and only a handful thought they were necessary.
"Catching up on the crimes of Two-Face?" Finally Commissioner Gordon had to speak up. He strongly suspected if he continued to say nothing, the district attorney would have kept him standing at that door for an unearthly amount of time. And he was tired. He really wanted to go home.
Janice Porter's slender form stiffened up in her chair and she turned, gaze setting upon Jim. Instantly a defensive guard came up in her features. Which made no sense. "Of course I am." She answered smoothly. "Apparently in the years I've been gone, we've gone from fighting the mob in Gotham to fighting freaks running around in capes and costumes. Although..."
She leaned back in her chair, attention captured again by the replay of the video. "It's interesting that one of Gotham's deadliest doesn't have any freak powers or tricks. Just a crazy man with a coin."
"Harvey Dent is a hard man to catch. One of the strangest mad criminals I ever saw." Jim Gordon leaned against the door frame and sighed, found himself caught up in talking to Porter. Maybe it was a nostalgic atmosphere that made him miss Harvey Dent as the good man he knew.
"The man not only knows the law, he knows Gotham and all its streets. He put away lots of the criminals so he knows the criminals. Probably the worst part of all, we get as many of his defenders as we do his victims. The case file will tell you.
The coin. If it lands heads up he decides to return his stolen goods and donate them to the needy. Or he decides to save people that are hurt or in danger. This doesn't make it into the file but one day, while he was casing out a place to rob, he stopped to give chest compressions to a man who had a heart attack before the medics got there. He saved that old man's life. You cannot fit him in a box. Makes for a very challenging prosecution."
District Attorney Janice Porter returned her gaze, a very strange gaze, back to the footage. In particular, of the Pair of Jacks Casino, which he robbed and cold bloodedly murdered a armored guard by the flip of a coin. Then without missing a beat, threatened to fire into the crowd unless the security let him go through. Worst part was he meant it. Gordon knew this troubling footage like the back of his hand but the physical change that came over Porter... All of Gordon's detective and people instincts were alerted.
Porter's arms were crossed but she showed no sign of irritation or anger. Her full lips were parted slightly, brows furrowed heavily concentrated on the form, the mannerisms, the dark charm of Two-Face. Gordon could admit it, in both personalities Harvey had charm. It's what made him so dangerous as a villain. Natural charisma corrupted.
She barely seemed to care her Police Commissioner was at the door, had been for the past few minutes waiting on her. Gordon wasn't a woman. But if he was right, he would swear Porter was mesmerized. Or captivated. Almost like...a school girl in love.
He would not have been able to guess even if he wagered. Porter's personal history at Gotham University before Harvard wasn't known to anyone. Her romantic history with former DA Harvey Dent she didn't share and no one knew. Janice Porter very much was a private woman.
After another minute or two, Porter must have tired of Gordon's assessing eye. "What is it, Gordon?" She demanded, at last returning his gaze.
"I'm heading out for the night. I just wanted to let you know before I left and turn in the paperwork for these Case files." He stepped forward and handed over some earlier casework. Porter took it with a thank you.
"Mrs Dent it says here in this case file wouldn't speak to the police about the robbery she was a victim in, am I right?" She asked. Had the criminal file of Harvey Dent open in her lap.
"Exactly right." Jim Gordon gave a heavy sigh. "His wife has stood by him through everything because she blames his madness, not him. Never wavered in her love or devotion. If she does speak in public, its to criticize the city for how it treats the mentally ill. And she doesn't look on anyone in Gotham or the police department as friends."
"Not surprised." Porter's reply was razor sharp. "She chose her side. She's loyal to him, not the law. Not the rest of the world. Have a good night, Gordon. I'll be here a while longer."
Something bothered Jim Gordon about the district attorney in that room. Obsessively watching footage of Two Face. Sneering at Harvey's wife. But at that moment he was too exhausted to care very much and simply bid her good night and walked out.
Meanwhile in the dimly lit room, the city prosecutor reround and replayed the bank robbery footage. The technician had stepped out for a few minutes to use the restroom so she was alone.
Frame by frame she went. How confident this new, other personality of Harvey Dent was. Unbending. She could not help but secretly admire how successful Two Face was in most of his crimes. Hilariously, even as a Crime Boss his ability to hold attention hadn't left him. The smug bastard insisted on testifying in his own defense during his murder trial for the mobster Maroni, insisting he had committed the crime. Not Harvey Dent.
How easy it was to fall into the idea this criminal was not Harvey Dent. Harvey Dent wouldn't flip a coin for a man's life. Harvey Dent wouldn't dare fire into an innocent crowd at a casino. Harvey Dent loved Gilda. Harvey cared about justice. But this man--he was far more intriguing. Powerful. Comfortable in his power. Would not fuss and fume over the justice system failing, Two-Face took matters into his own hands. Anyone who didn't respect him paid for it immediately with their life.
To say Porter did not find that attractive...would be a lie. Scarred face or not. Her logical brain was quick to condemn her, snipe how dare she start swooning over a criminal. A criminal that escaped brazenly almost under her very nose the day she toured the county jail as newly appointed attorney.
Well she attempted to appease her justice bent mind. Porter chewed on her lip. Why not go undercover to try and find him? Information from this criminal file made it clear Two Face was somewhat predictable in his psychosis. Hired twins, hired Brothers, committed crimes associated with the number 2. If she could predict, track him to any of his known haunts--that would be a start.
Harvey Dent left Porter for another woman. Harvey might well love his wife, wouldn't love her the way she hoped. But Two-Face? This man who claimed he was not Harvey Dent, who hated Harvey Dent... Who claimed he had no wife...
Maybe she could win over the ruthless Crime Boss instead of the married lawyer.
That weekend...
A certain bar in the Narrows on 2nd Street, at a poker table sat a certain 6 ft tall Crime Boss in split-down-the-middle suits just like his divided face, playing cards. He was winning. On top of the world. Then suddenly a full pint appeared at his elbow, carried by the bartender.
"It's on the house, boss." The barkeep, a crusty old man who knew how to keep his mouth shut, set the beer glass on the table.
"I didn't order that. What gives?" Two-Face demanded. Drinks didn't come on the house. Not here.
Well he was appropriately half-right. The bar keep chuckled and pointed backwards at the bar. "You didn't order it. It's on the house because your lady friend at the bar ordered it. Said to bring it to you."
Lady friend? Two-Face turned his head and his one good and bad eye to a slender woman in a strapless blue dress, pale in her complexion with a puff of blonde hair sitting casually at the bar counter having a cocktail. He frowned. Women didn't buy drinks for him unless they wanted something. And who the hell was this woman to him? Why did she pick him over all the others?
But he was was about to walk away with it all so hell if he was going to ruin everything just for one broad. An hour later, the cheap hoods he was playing with folded and Two-Face walked away with the whole damm pile of chips. If these guys had known better who they were playing--Street smarts would have told them to not bet on winning with Two-Face. But no one dared protest their loss. Not with this crazy man.
After the winner took all, the crime lord walked over to that strange woman. Still there at the bar counter and slipped into the seat next to her. Without wasting time he looked her full in the face and said harshly. "Free drinks don't win points with me. Especially if I don't know you."
"I wouldn't expect it to win points with you. It was just my way of saying hello." This woman looked him full in the face, didn't flinch at his hideous mug. Smiled even.
"And who the hell are you?"
"You can call me Janice."
Two-Face stared casually, mulling that name over. "There's no such thing as a free drink. What are you after?"
"Right now? Nothing." Janice Porter insisted lightly. She knew her game well. It would take time to get him to trust her, reel him in. "Congratulations on winning the poker game, Two Face."
"I always win." For the first time he smirks a little. Smug. "You know who I am but yet I don't know who you are."
"Now now." How easy to be alluring and sexy again with her side eyes, her secretive smirk. Even if it wasn't Harvey. "It's not fair for me to tell you all my secrets right away, sweetheart."
He stood up without a word, and then left the bar without a goodbye.
Most people would take it as a failure. Not Janice Porter. His trust would be hard to earn, even his goons didn't have it. He didn't accept new members to his circle without heavy vetting. And if he didn't like you, it didn't matter how good you were--you were out. Yet she saw Two-Face the criminal mastermind look back at her. Just a moment. It was enough to know she made an impact.
She stirred her drink and smiled.
End