"Retro's very in right now." If anyone told her she'd be having this conversation with Harvey Dent a few years ago, she'd have laughed in their face. Putting the blocks behind them, teeth grit at every crime she couldn't stop to deal with, Renee kept Dent in sight, made sure his face was still hidden. "Don't lose my hat."

The signal the gangs had been putting up - or the villains, she didn't know who it was - was unsettling. It was disturbing. Hell, it made her gut clench and churn. It wasn't right, that the man who'd done so much for this city could be killed, and mocked like this. "Every Gotham needs Batman, Dent. I'll never understand how some people just don't get that."

The streets emptied as the went, quieted, if barely. Abruptly, Renee turned a corner, grabbing Harvey's arm to keep him with her. "Here." Keying into the building, hoping he didn't put much stock in street signs, she led him up to her apartment, peeling the mask off once inside, rolling it back into a ball. She'd clean it later.