Chapter Text
The thing about Jim Gordon was that he was reckless as hell and so fucking aggravating and never listened to Harvey and could flash this killer smile and had these eyes that made people's hearts quiver. So maybe there were multiple things about Jim Gordon. Sue him. Also maybe Harvey was secretly a romantic. Again, sue him.
But James Gordon was certainly a man worthy of romance. (As well as a good slap on his fucking thick skull.) His grand entrance into Harvey's life had ruined whatever hope Harvey had at being a good dirty Gotham cop. With one inspiring speech Harvey was prepared to launch himself into action for the first time in years. Suddenly he was willing to fight in a battle the rest of the city had long given up on. This change, he told himself, had nothing at all to do with Jim Gordon and his arousing, -cough- make that ROUSING, speeches. "Tank your career to help me save Cobblepot, Harvey." "Risk your life to clean up Gotham, Harvey."
"Harvey."
"Harvey."
"Ohhh Harv."
"Hello? Earth to Harvey?" Said detective jumped as Jim tapped him on the shoulder, his mind still reeling with the mirages of Fantasy!Jim. Real!Jim was sending quizzical looks in his direction so Harvey shrugged and mumbled something about a killer hangover. Jim refocused on driving and Harvey tried to discreetly readjust his pants so his partner wouldn't know of the fantasies being dreamt of in the passenger seat. The silence droned on in the cruiser and Harvey felt the need to move, talk, TOUCH, creep up under his skin. Fuck, he had it so bad.
In the end Harvey decided to go with talking. "Did you get specifics on the vic?" Jim tilted his chin at the folder under his jacket. "It's all in there. Vic was found at 7:00am this morning by the landlady. Landlady said she'd never seen the guy before and his wallet isn't on his person." Harvey nodded along as he skimmed the John Doe's file. It was a brutal massacre of a death. The vic was missing several limbs and the mutilation on his face was really kinda extreme. Even for the shit Harvey had seen. Worst of all was the carvings on his chest. There didn't seem to be any pattern to the deep slashes coating the vic's abdomen. Just that they covered every available space and internal organs could actually be fucking seen. Harvey grimaced and deposited the folder gingerly on top of Jim's jacket. "This looks kinda personal Jim. And it's an obvious calling card. Whoever did this doesn't seem to care that they'll be easy to track. Are you thinking...serial killer? Cause that's what my gut is telling me."
The frown etched in Jim's feature became more pronounced as he answered. "I really hope not. But knowing Gotham... Probably."
Harvey grunted. Sometimes he really hated this god forsaken city. Why couldn't he just get a nice mugging case? Was petty theft too much to ask for?
Jim pulled up to the barricaded crime scene and cut the engine, already popping out of the cruiser like the eager mcbeaver he was. Harvey rolled himself off the seat and shambled after the younger detective. Nygma practically skipped over to them, grasping what looked like a severed tongue. Harvey suppressed a shudder at the look of glee on the ME's face. There was something fucked up in that kid's noggin. "Detectives! I am always around, but never seen. I am often avoided, but you can't out run me for I will come when your old and grey, or maybe even the very next day. I will come with cold embrace, and give you rest with a chilled kiss on your face. I come in may forms of emotional state, weather it's irony, love, laughter, or hate. I am everyone's finale fate. What am I?"
Harvey bit back an exasperated sigh. He was seriously not in the mood to deal with this creeps riddles. "I dunno Ed... Is it essential to the case?" Jim questioned while eyeing the tongue bouncing in Nygma's hand. The ME giggled and bobbed his head 'yes'. "Okay... Is it death?" Ed rolled on his feet with excitement. "Sure is Detective Gordon! As you can see this man is incredibly dead. And--"
"Really?" Harvey snorted, dark sarcasm oozing off his words. Nygma loosed a glare on Harvey and opened his mouth to retort. "If you find my job done inadequately Detective Bullock, then perhaps you would rather not know the information I've painstakingly gathered."
"Why you whiny, childish..." Harvey came to a stuttering stop when a warm presence seeped through his jacket. Jim had placed a restraining palm against his partner's arm and Harvey could absolutely not believe how calming the touch was. His gaze continued to flitter from the hand to Jim's face in disbelief before getting trapped in Jim's eyes. Good lord, he was such a disgraceful cliche. He became distantly aware of Jim grappling with Nygma to gain the answers they needed but Harvey could not regain focus even if he'd cared enough to. He hadn't been this infatuated with a person since he was training in the police academy. Since.. Oh shit. He ripped his arm out of Jim's grasp and started walking briskly away from whatever the hell he was NOT feeling for his partner. If he even heard Jim calling after him, he made no response to the other distressed detective.
This could not be fucking happening to him again. There was no way he was going to be able to go through this AGAIN. Especially with someone with Jim's track record. And history of getting himself caught smack in the middle of the line of fire. Harvey could deal with lust and fantasies. A little personal time in the shower could take care of those. But this--this was much worse. He had.. Stirrings. Not full blown 'feelings' but so damn close that it terrified Harvey to his core and he was not an easy man to scare. It was no longer simply that he wanted to fuck Jim over any available flat surface; he wanted to hold his hand and fall asleep curled up behind him and cook dinner for him and kiss his nose and tease him about grey hairs and shit shit shit shit. Harvey ceased his near sprinting and turned his gaze upwards from his shoes. He found the closest bar and hauled himself onto the stool. "Your strongest." The bartender gave him a raised eyebrow but eventually slide a glass to Harvey's waiting hand. If he couldn't actually rid himself of these emotions then he could damn well dampen and drown them. And if vicious amounts of alcohol is what it took then so fucking be it.