ext_68550 (
sandystarr88.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2010-02-17 11:06 am
Entry tags:
riding hard on the last legs of every lie by goddesspharo (PG)
Fandom: DC UNIVERSE: BATMAN NOLANVERSE
Pairing: Harvey/Rachel, implied Bruce/Rachel
Length: 1,379
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: fic tag
Why this must be read:
Because it's Harvey Dent through Rachel's eyes, with all the heartbreak and tragedy that entails. I loved the all the little details the author put into this piece; Harvey's campaign slogan, the little digs at Bruce, and just how Gotham as a city wears people down.
Crime rates are down. Incarceration rates are up. He's growing on her, but she'd never let him know that. He's cocky enough as it is. Another ego boost and he'll simply be unbearable to deal with during 2am strategy sessions at the office.
"If we hit Maroni with—"
"Want to hear a true story?" Harvey interrupts with the attention span of a two year old, attempting to balance a half empty carton of Pad Thai and a can of coke on his knees. His pant legs are rolled up like he's going fishing and he's using a legal pad as a place mat, twenty minutes worth of scribbles smearing against vegetable oil and condensation rings.
She wonders if he expects her to lean forward and purr, oh, do I ever, Harv with a megawatt smile and four years of grad school forgotten because he's batting his eyelashes and laying on the charm. She's not one of those nameless cup sizes from Bruce's harem (no, she promised she wouldn't think about him anymore). They're lawyers. Truth isn't in their dictionaries.
"We should've ordered Italian."
Noodles make him nostalgic. They still have a lot of work to do tonight.
"Oh, come on! I'll tell you how I got the coin," he presses, tossing it in the air with a grin.
She doesn't want him to think that she's curious so she leans back against a bookshelf with a bored sigh and yawns, waving her hands for him to get it over with. She's expecting a story about carnivals or family heirlooms, maybe some sort of trade for a rookie baseball card, but instead he tells her about slap-happy fathers and growing tough skin.
God, she hopes he's lying.
riding hard on the last legs of every lie
Pairing: Harvey/Rachel, implied Bruce/Rachel
Length: 1,379
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: fic tag
Why this must be read:
Because it's Harvey Dent through Rachel's eyes, with all the heartbreak and tragedy that entails. I loved the all the little details the author put into this piece; Harvey's campaign slogan, the little digs at Bruce, and just how Gotham as a city wears people down.
Crime rates are down. Incarceration rates are up. He's growing on her, but she'd never let him know that. He's cocky enough as it is. Another ego boost and he'll simply be unbearable to deal with during 2am strategy sessions at the office.
"If we hit Maroni with—"
"Want to hear a true story?" Harvey interrupts with the attention span of a two year old, attempting to balance a half empty carton of Pad Thai and a can of coke on his knees. His pant legs are rolled up like he's going fishing and he's using a legal pad as a place mat, twenty minutes worth of scribbles smearing against vegetable oil and condensation rings.
She wonders if he expects her to lean forward and purr, oh, do I ever, Harv with a megawatt smile and four years of grad school forgotten because he's batting his eyelashes and laying on the charm. She's not one of those nameless cup sizes from Bruce's harem (no, she promised she wouldn't think about him anymore). They're lawyers. Truth isn't in their dictionaries.
"We should've ordered Italian."
Noodles make him nostalgic. They still have a lot of work to do tonight.
"Oh, come on! I'll tell you how I got the coin," he presses, tossing it in the air with a grin.
She doesn't want him to think that she's curious so she leans back against a bookshelf with a bored sigh and yawns, waving her hands for him to get it over with. She's expecting a story about carnivals or family heirlooms, maybe some sort of trade for a rookie baseball card, but instead he tells her about slap-happy fathers and growing tough skin.
God, she hopes he's lying.
riding hard on the last legs of every lie
