Phobia.

“Commissioner?” The officer called, leading me into the police station, rebuilt and much updated since the Joker had blown it sky high just over eight years ago.

He paused at the desk, showing his ID to the bored looking older man who nodded, obviously expecting my name... I had been stressed on the car ride here, worried, Jonathon, even locked away was still affecting people.

I needed to tell Gordon, and I needed to work out who was supplying it, how they were recreating it. I hope Jonathon had little to do with it, I was honestly beginning to believe he was repenting about it all, no doubt that was a farce, his stupid gullible little sister buying it to his delight.

The officer turned to me again, a gentle smile stretching his face as I forced the tears to continue dripping down mine, we didn’t have time for formalities, I couldn’t even remember what alias I had given him on the way over.

“The Commissioner is on the roof Miss Robinson,” That one then I thanked him, pretending to take notice of his directions through the station. “My partner was called off for something with the Dent event, I’ll have to go find him, I hope you’re okay.” I nodded and offered him a real smile, he was kind, eager.

Sadly they weren't traits you saw in many men around here.

I kept my head down as I hurried the way he had pointed, me and Gordon never met at the station, there was too much chance of someone recognising me... whilst may I be as invisible as someone can be in this city it was never enough, I still had run-ins with various officers. My feet pounded against the stairs leading to the thick metal door, old paint peeling off in large clumps. As soon as I pushed it open, the cold air hit me and I felt a slight shiver hit me, it was autumn and each evening it seemed to grow colder.

Too cold too quick.
It made me uneasy.

“Gordon,” I said, drawing the tired man from his thoughts, his hand resting gently on the broken bat signal, he turned, taking a second to recognise me before he nodded.

“What’s wrong? You never come here, we agreed Keira.” I scowled, taking a step closer to him and pulling the sleeves of my coat down over my hands,

“It wasn’t by choice.” He snorted slightly, a brief smile breaking through his worn features.

“What did you do this time?” The same smirk reflected on my face, broken quickly as I explained why I was here, what I suspected.

“Your brother is at Blackgate, is the highest security prison this half of the country, there is no way this could move without our knowledge.”

“You know how corrupt this city is, don’t tell me you’re finally falling for this ‘Dent act new city’ bullshit!” He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face at the scorn thick in my words.

“I’ll look into it. You keep an eye out, see if you can find who’s supplying it.” I nodded, sucking on the inside of my cheek. “I want to see him as well.” He went to speak but I cut him off, “I know you only get three visits a year, but you must be able to come up with some excuse for me to get in?” he scanned my face, making me feel as vulnerable as it always did.

He was good at reading people, trusting them. That’s why I never understood how he seemed to trust me, the liar of all liars.

“I’ll see what I can do...but...you think he’d tell you anything useful?” I smiled slightly.

“He likes to fuck around with me, and he knows this will get to you so I’m sure he’ll be willing to brag.” Gordon nodded slowly, turning his eyes back over the dark skyline.

“I’ll sort it then, you okay about earlier?” I snorted slightly, patting his vein ridden hand.

“Like I haven’t been mugged before, don’t worry about me...you know the deal Jim.”

I knew the deal, I was alone most of the time, it was easier, made sense. Gordon was who I helped, in some way it was a penance for Harvey, another way of sticking it to my brother.

But, I couldn’t help it, I pitied Gordon, I liked Gordon.
That wasn’t part of the deal, caring about people.

He seemed to read my mind, his eyes holding mine again for a few seconds until I pulled myself away, “Anyways, I haven’t got much else to tell you, there’s a gambling ring forming, couple of the guys from 67th that you’ve had trouble with before...erm... there’s some whores on the narrows that don’t just offer their bodies if you get what I mean...”

“Cocaine?” I nodded and he frowned, shrugging his shoulders slightly, “Well, we’re never going to fully get rid of that... if you can get me any names then...”

The door down to the station creaked as it swung open and I turned stiffly, noticing a police officer step out into the weak light, his narrowed eyes landing on me swiftly before they turned to the Commissioner and I was ignored.

“Congressman Gilly’s wife has been calling...” I tuned out, some over paid pervert was the least of my problems, I stood as the conversation continued, pulling off the red wig and jamming it in my pocket, it would need a lot of sorting out before I wore it again but I was worried and irritated.

The pins followed, this time flicked to the floor as I released the tangled mess of my own dark blonde hair. I turned eventually noticing both men looking at me, the police officer taking in my appearance for too long, as if he recognised me.

“If the Congressman's missing there’s a nice place in the Oldtown that serves just as many Martini’s as it does prostitutes, I’d start in places like that.” I’d heard things, many of which were true for the majority of politicians. But I realised I had interrupted a much deeper conversation as I had torn the gaze of them both from the smashed batman light...a much more interesting discussion than about that pompous fool.

“Why were you wearing a wig?” the police officer barked, eyes still surveying me.

“Bad hair day,” I said sarcastically, turning back to Gordon, “Let me know about Jonathon, the sooner the better. I’ll check out that place if it’s helpful.” I turned back to the cop who still looked flustered, and I knew without a doubt he would be searching the records for me that very night.

He was suspicious, a very good trait to have in this city.
“Nice to meet you Officer...”

“Blake.” He said curtly and I smiled slightly, rolling my eyes at his demeanor.

I headed over to the fire escape, the rusted metal ladders that led down the side of the old building, I heard the police officer commenting, who was she, why the hell is she climbing down a fire escape...why does she look familiar?

I was on the concrete alleyway ground before he could finish all his questions, not that Gordon would answer any...or rather answer any truthfully. The cheap mobile in my deep pockets rang and I took a minute to answer, it had no numbers on, and there was only one other person in the world that knew the number itself.

“Good evening Commissioner.” I purred, still irritated by our interruption,

“Be careful tonight, I’ll ring Blackgate in the morning and arrange something. We’ll meet before the end of the week.”

“Sure. Look out for that Blake guy, he’s very eager.”

“And that’s why I like him.”

My apartment was small, but not cosy. Harvey had gotten it for me when I first started helping him out, the landlord had taken the large wad of cash without asking, assuming it was some kind of place for the new DA to meet his ‘mistresses’ .I'd had to hold back a scoff, the Harvey Dent at that time would never have been so sleazy and underhanded.

As I thought it had taken be a while to untangle the red wig, to brush it until it looked fairly decent and it had been placed in a small bag and shoved back in the draw with all my others.

It was just after midnight, as one side of the city went to sleep the other, this side came to life. The crime rate may be a lot lower but it would never be gone, not in neighborhoods like this. I was heading to the place I had mentioned to Gordon, it was nice, not in Old town, closer to the business district which meant its clients were richer, and therefore had a lot more to hide.

It was hard to get in to, unless you were a certain kind of person, unless you were rich or someone who looked easy and was, for some dollars at least.

That was how it really made its money, it was a club, the backrooms full of prostitutes and gambling, it used to be where the mobs thrived... but, since Harvey they had diminished a lot, breaking into smaller gangs that still had stupid brawls, still shot each other in the streets.

I slid on the shoes, wincing as always, but heels completed the costume; andthe costume and a bit of flirting would be how I obtained entry.

I wanted to work this thing out as soon as possible. The cocaine would be easy enough to trace, but anything similar to what my brother had created would be another story. One that needed to come to a conclusion. The sooner the better, and the night was still young.

Besides it wasn't like I had much else to do. All I did was waste away in my flat or sneak around and report it back. You had to live to have a life you see and I didn’t really view what I did was living.

I suppose I was as much in a prison as Jonathon was, although mine was self imposed.

There was a knock on my door and I frowned slightly, there weren’t many people who knew where I lived, and those who did knew by a variety of persona’s.

“Keira!” the person sang, a high female voice. I growled slightly, stomping in my shoes to the door and swinging it open, dragging the ditzy blonde inside.

“What Anna? You know you don’t come shouting my name around here.” She grinned, her pupils dilated and her shoes in her hands.

I sighed, feeling my answer evaporate at how pathetic she looked and leading her to the bed, letting her collapse on it. “Can I stay here?” she mumbled, words slurred, the stench of alcohol already filling my apartment. I muttered a fine, my eyes still searching over her to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

“Why the hell are you so drunk already?” I scolded, forcing her to sit up and answer me quickly, she looked upset, her eyes still rimmed red. “Abed cancelled me,” I felt the urge to laugh, “I mean, he’s been a regular for four years, and now suddenly he wants another girl.”

She was a prostitute who was upset that someone she spent a night with every fortnight (unbeknownst of course to his loving wife and children) would rather fuck some other skank than her.

I sighed, stiffening as she flung her arms around me and began to cry again, “I thought he liked me, I mean... we had all these deep talks, and he said he would leave his wife for me, He promised me!” I pushed her back gently, pulling her mobile from her tight grip and placing it on the bedside table,

“Anna sweetie, you’re a prostitute. You are aware of that?” She snorted, tugging back and glaring at me. “Of course I know that Keira. I’m not stupid!”

“You’re stupid for getting so attached to a customer; you must have known really he would never leave her for you, you were just a bit on the side.”

“Fuck you,” she spat suddenly, “He was in love with me.”

“Clearly” I bit back, as usual not in the mood for her.

We weren’t friends; we didn’t even get on most of the time. She just turned up whenever her oh so glamorous life as a whore, oh sorry- ‘escort’ went to shit, got drunk and cried.

I put up with her, she was helpful sometimes, she put up with me because I usually had money and I suppose at points I felt sorry for her.

I couldn’t complain I had a shit life around her, although any attempts to get her to stop seemed to go in one ear and out the other. “I’m going out Anna. Don’t throw up everywhere.”

“Whatever,” she was face down on the bed again, her words muffled. “Go rat out some more people you fucking bitch.”

She was right, I was a bitch. But yet she would rather stay here than go back to her apartment, or worse, back to her pimp.I’d seen the bruises, helped cleaned in those moments I pitied her.

And the guys living in mansions believe they’ve cleaned up the city.
What a fucking joke.

The music was loud, it was the kind that seemed to thump through you, vibrating through your organs. I’d asked around, pressed myself against plenty of guys, let them rest their hands on my ass, pretending to drink the drink they had brought.

Nothing.

Well not nothing, plenty for Gordon to go on but nothing for me, no word about any serums, any drugs that could be Jonathon's. It obviously couldn’t be in circulation amongst the higher classes, but then it had never been cheap.

I frowned, brushing past a couple of scantily clad girls as I headed towards the door, the alley at the back was where any dealing really went on and I was determined that tonight wouldn’t be a complete waste for me.

I smiled, making sure my cleavage was on display as I headed towards one guy I recognised as a dealer, he was quite young and had all his teeth so having to practically sprawl all over him wasn’t as painful as it could have been.

“What you looking for?” he asked, strong east-side accent present, I grinned, moving so I was in-front of him, one hand resting gently on his chest as I leant on my tiptoes, making sure my body pressed against his, “What have you got?” he smirked, listing the usual, his hand slipping slowly down my back and causing me to fight back a cringe.

And you wonder why I hate most people. They’re revolting.

“No, no, I heard there’s something else, like...” I bit my lip as I drew back slightly, pretending to be drunk as usual, my eyes holding his, “beautiful, like an injection, this serum thing, kind of stuff they used to sell years ago.” His hand dropped instantly and he shook his head,

“I don’t sell that shit, you seen what it does to you?” I shook my head slowly, pouting,
“Well, you know where I can get it? I can make it worth your while,” the smile returned and he lifted a hand to my ‘hair’ a person storming past caused me to crash into him, his fingers entangling in the wig and pulling it back slightly off my hairline, making what it was obvious.

He looked confused, taking a few seconds to comprehend it’s meaning, “A wig...shit, are you a fucking cop?!” he shoved me off him into the wall opposite, his shout attracting the attention of everyone else in the alleyway.

Oh shit.

“I’m not a cop,” I argued, giving in and just pulling the wig and wig cap off completely, “I just didn’t want to dye my hair.”

“Bollocks,” he roared, a couple of the others rushing in, “You got other people here, fucking undercover’s everywhere?” I shook my head mutely.

I was in a bad position, a very bad position.

He wasn’t the largest guy around by any means, but within seconds they would be here, I had heard about what happened to cops when they were caught. I turned quickly, my heels catching in a hole and causing my ankle to twist slightly as I ran, the commotion behind me was obvious, the loud thumping beat of the music stopped instantly and I could imagine the panic at the many businessmen in there being caught, the dealers rushing back down to their homes in the dingy narrows.

I screamed as arms grabbed me, pulling around a sharp corner into an indent where only bins resided, “Shut up!” The deep voice growled, the hand loosely over my mouth, holding me in the shadow as a few of the men ran past. I struggled against his arms until he finally let go a few minutes later, turning and having to fight back the shock on my face as I recognised him.

“Were you following me?” I asked, outraged and more angry than thankful, he nodded.

“I knew I recognised you. You getting caught with coke was one of the first cases I worked on, and yet Gordon let you off scott free.”

“We have a deal,” I argued, “I help out.”

“By nearly getting yourself killed?” he shot back, smirking at my glare.

I shook my head, stepping unsteadily back out into the alleyway, “Fuck you.” He followed me, easily keeping up as I limped slightly on my ankle,

“That how you say thank-you? If you’re helping Gordon surely we’re on the same side.” Everything he said had a hint of a sneer and although the panic was fading I still wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

“Thank you Officer Blake, you truly are a sneaky bastard.” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him. He chuckled lightly, irritating me further.

“And you were doing a pretty good job until your wig gave you away. I was almost impressed.” I fought a smile. Heading quickly in the other direction as we met a larger road,

“You not want a lift?” I shook my head, his tone was a lot friendlier but mine remained malicious.

“No, and stop following me before you really get fucking hurt Officer Blake.” His brow furrowed but I turned, bending down and ripping off my heals as I headed the completely wrong way to my apartment.

Not that I would let him know him.

Sneaky fucking busybody.

He is definately a good cop.