"Why can't you tell me?" Harvey asked, stabbing some of the vegetables and complying due to his own hunger. Would be a shame to seem polite.

The food was good- better then what he or Rachel had ever been able to make. Neither had been cooks, Harvey notably worse than Rachel though hardly by much. He ate, the process of doing so with the burns becoming more and more mechanic rather than an obvious touch. The Joker was a better cook than Rachel and he almost laughed. "It's good." He said, barely hating himself for the comment under the stifling apathy. Rachel would have found it funny.