Undercover

The weakest link in the chain, that was what their intel said. Harvey looked through what they had accumulated and had his doubts that Jim Gordon could be described as part of the chain at all.

"He's family," Danziger countered when he voiced his concerns, tone defensive, "He must hear things."

"He's all we've got," Simmons shrugged, apologetic, "If we don't go for it now who knows if we'll ever get this kind of chance again."

Harvey let it sink in. Looked back over the sparse briefing notes - Jim's academic results from residential school and how he was related to all the major players - and asked finally,

"Why me? Kid's clearly hurting for a friend, why not go for someone more his own age?"

Danziger grinned, all shark teethed and nasty.

"Because, Bullock, you're going to be playing substitute daddy."

That was the kind of line that wasn't going to be minuted, was never going to form part of the official record, but it rolled around in Harvey's head all the same, making him feel like even more of a skeevy old man than he already was, sitting in the central library and staring at Jim over the top of Gotham: A History.

He had never been one for studying. Had truthfully kind of balked at what tailing Jim was going to mean. Then he had set eyes on something other than an out of date school photo and had all the breath knocked from his lungs. Had had to roll his tongue back in his mouth and remind himself that he was supposed to be a professional. An undercover police officer with almost a decade of experience, not a lovesick teenager.

Jim really was a vision though. Blond hair and big blue eyes. Strong biceps that shifted under his shirt as he took copious notes from the textbook in front of him, bottom lip a little swollen where he kept chewing on it in concentration.

It was a relief when the opportunity finally revealed itself, not least because Harvey didn't know if he could have stood still and done nothing, seeing the slight flush color Jim's cheeks as he strained to get closer to the book he was reaching for. Harvey had been loitering since a few moments after Jim had left his table. Had been waiting for some kind of in, and now he simply stepped up behind Jim and pulled the book out for him.

"Criminal Law and Its Processes - I hope you're not the one with the court date!"

Harvey cringed even as he said it, feeling like some middle aged sitcom character trying to sound down with the kids. Jim just gave him a shy little smile, putting him in mind less of prime time and more late night PIN protected, and said,

"Hopefully I'll be the one defending, in a few years."

He weighed his options quickly. Didn't want to come on too strong the very first time he spoke to Jim but, by the same token, if Jim wanted to talk he didn't want to rebuff him.

"Yeah?" was what he went with, "You sure you want to go criminal? It sounds exciting, sure, but contract's where the money is."

"Are you an attorney?" Jim asked, so earnest and eager it had him wishing he could change his cover story.

"Me? I wish - I was never smart enough for all that. I'm a writer, researching a book on the history of Gotham. Murder, intrigue, secret societies. You know, all the good stuff."

"That sounds so cool," Jim told him, no hint of either suspicion or irony, and later Harvey would look back on that as the moment his heart decided it belonged to the little brother of one of Gotham's most dangerous rising stars.

At the time he only smiled, wide and helpless, and exchanged a few more lines of chit chat. Jim divulged that he was studying law at college, that he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, and Harvey wished him luck with it before returning to his spot and pretending to read up on nineteenth century immigration patterns for another hour or so.