#wtfit

Tim pouts. “Fine.” He pulls out his phone, taking a selfie. Bruce can’t help but roll his eyes, Tim noticing. “It’s for my insta.”

“Does anyone even follow you?” Bruce asks, striding over to the center of the building and leaning over the railing. He knows he should be mingling, but his mind is too alert for mindless commentary. If someone comes over he’ll chat, but what he’s really waiting for is the okay from Dick that they’re in the building.

Tim follows him, clicking away at his phone screen. “A couple thousand. They like my hair, I think.” Bruce laughs. Tim looks affronted, but it doesn’t take long before he gives in and laughs along with him.

The scene around them is brightly lit, but still almost ethereal in the naturally dark observatory. People in all different color clothes decorate the room, suits and dresses galore. People flaunting what they have, conversing and swaying to the soft music in the background and holding crystal glasses in their hands, perfectly poised. There’s an auction later on tonight, where most of the money with be raised.

Tim slips away, ready to investigate while still looking like just another visitor, leaving Bruce alone to try to distract if he needs to. Bruce figures whenever Dent’s plan is supposed to be revealed, it’ll be around or during the auction. So he just needs to kill time. Shouldn’t be too hard.

He sees Gordon out the corner of his eye. None of the party-goers look too concerned, Bruce figures living in Gotham has desensitized them to danger, at least a little. An evacuation would lead to uproar, but he’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that.

*

“Jason, could you drive this car any slower?” Dick feels like he’s part of his seat now, the speed pulling him back. Jason just smirks.

“Too fast for you, Grayson?” He pushes on the pedal a bit more, the car jolting faster. “I love this car, it doesn’t even roar if you stomp on the pedal. No wonder Bruce can sneak around everywhere. it’s so freaking quiet.” He swerves onto a side road, Dick grabbing onto the door handle.

“Jesus Christ, slow down!” He’s got nothing against going fast, but Jason is being absolutely criminal with his speeds. It’s a wonder he can even see anything that blurs past them. Cars beep as they see the Batmobile, whether in anger or appreciation he can’t tell. He can’t even see the expressions on people’s faces. Holy hell, if Jason doesn’t end up killing them both he’s going to strangle him.

At least Jason has the foresight not to park next to the observatory and instead hide it in a nearby grove. Dick’s legs wobble just the slightest bit as he exits the car, leaning on the vehicle. He waits for his heart-rate to return to normal, for his sight to slow down with the rest of the world. Jason jumps out laughing.

“Like a rollercoaster. If Bruce ever doesn’t want this baby, I’m taking it.” He taps the Batmobile, smoothing his hand over the shiny paint job. He glances over at Dick. “You okay?” His voice almost sounds concerned.

Dick holds his hand up to his mouth, keeping his nausea at bay. “‘M fine.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “We should go.”

“You sure you can walk?” Jason asks with a snort. Dick shakes his head to clear it, standing up straight.

“Yeah.”

The observatory glows from here, a few hundred feet away. He’d love to take Barb to a ball sometime soon, she’d look great in a dress. Maybe when they don't have work to do.

Tonight is unusually warm, Dick barely feeling the cold winds through his suit. And Jason, well, he’s comfortable as can be in his leather coat. They run over to the building, Jason deciding to make a little conversation.

“How long has Tim been Robin?”

“I think he started a few months after you...left.” To be honest, the actual events that happened while Jason and Bruce were in the Middle East are hazy to Dick. First he’d heard that Jason had died, then that he was in the hospital, then that he was fine but wouldn’t be coming home. He still hasn’t figured out what the truth is.

“And he’s good?” Jason says, voice neutral.

Dick nods, an awkward move since he’s running. “Yeah. Bruce doesn’t really trust him for anything too big, ever since the incident. I guess he wants Tim to have more experience before tackling a big challenge.”

Jason slows a bit. “Makes sense, but how does Tim take it?”

“He doesn’t complain too much, but I know he’s itching for some adventures of his own. Why?”

Jason shrugs. “Just wondering. He seems nice. You know, from what I’ve seen.”

“You should hang around more,” Dick says. He hasn’t seen Jason in at least a year, no wonder he’s missed out on the new member of the Wayne family.

“Maybe,” Jason doesn’t sound all that convinced, upping his pace again so that he’s ahead of Dick. The conversation is apparently over, leaving Dick to realise the younger man has basically turned into Bruce. Broody, stubborn, and ‘independent’. To be fair, he has a better sense of humor, but the fact of the matter is he and Bruce are more alike than not. He should just come home.

The duo nears the back door to the observatory, opening it quietly to look at what waits for them inside. Jason slips in, Dick following and activating his comm.

“Batman? We’re in.”

*

There’s the go ahead.

“I need you to scope out the area,” Bruce utters quietly. His eyes flicker as he takes in the whole room, making sure no one is in hearing range. He can’t see Tim anymore, and he wants nothing more than to sneak off, don his batsuit and get into the action. This job might wear him out, but he’d rather do that than go to glittery balls. Apparently star themes mean deck out the decorations with sparkles. It’s a little blinding, actually. Too garish.

As it stands, for now he’ll be protecting the wealthy in his three-piece. He’s made a little conversation, friendly banter, rumours of what’s supposed to be at the auction, what the fundraising goal is. The better the items the more money raised, but nobody really knows what’s up for grabs. Strange.

“Bruce Wayne.” He turns to see Gordon nearing him. He inclines his head in greeting.

“How goes the surveillance, commissioner?”

Gordon gives a one-shoulder shrug, his body language tense. “Nothing’s happened so far.” He stands out from the rest of the crowd, dressed in his usual uniform. A hand rests on his hip, lighting on the gun he always wears. He’d be crazy not to, but the sight of it always rubs Bruce the wrong way. “How’s the party?”

“Nothing’s happened so far,” Bruce says with a smile. Gordon spares a one syllable laugh, likely the only time he’ll laugh tonight. “How’s Barbara?”

“Busy. Lots of schoolwork, you know.” Gordon cards his fingers through his hair. “It’s funny, she almost seems to work more than I do.”

Bruce laughs, though he wonders when, if ever, Barbara plans on telling her father just what she does. He has to be getting suspicious at this point. But he won’t be the one to say anything. It’d be one more thing on Gordon’s list of worries, his daughter helping fight some of Gotham’s deadliest criminals. And judging by the dark circles under his eyes, Bruce figures he should let Gordon focus on this tonight.

He says goodbye and moves on, picking up a glass of champagne as he goes. The moment he does he realises he probably shouldn’t drink anything that could slow him down, offering it to someone he passes. The more he glances at his watch the slower time seems to pass him by, so he decides to walk out onto the balcony for some fresh air.

The stars peek out from behind passing clouds, threatening rain or snow later tonight. The wind rushes past Bruce as he leans over the banister, a telescope to his right. A couple stands there, peering through the eyepiece, shivering in their formal attire. The woman’s wrap does nothing to keep her warm, a thin silk that threatens to blow away. It’s almost scenic.

He closes his eyes and just listens to the people around him, hoping time passes faster. He’d do anything to be with the others, actively doing something instead of just watching for danger on the sidelines, making sure nothing happens up on the main floor. He knows they’re capable, but he hates relying on others regardless.

“Bruce Wayne?” He purses his lips slightly before turning around, a fake smile on his face.

“Yes?” Oh. It’s a solicitor.

The man goes into his spiel of what he’s advertising, Bruce looking at him quizzically and tuning him out best he can while still maintaining an air of politeness. Dick updates him occasionally, Bruce humming and trying to look like he’s agreeing with the man in front of him. His hands clench just a little, a couple of times he’s tried interrupting, he even tries to cut him rudely off at times, but it’s futile. He’s trapped by a salesman on steroids.

His saviour comes in a crisp white suit, a purple flower on his lapel. Bruce flashes Joker a grateful smile, thinking he’ll steer the man away, provide a means of escaping with a clever joke.

No such luck.

Instead the clown decides to drape himself over Bruce, nipping at his ear. “Did you miss me?” he asks, his voice saccharine. The annoying solicitor steps back, eyes wide. Bruce has no choice but to hold Joker, no way he’s just going to drop him, even if he is being a nuisance at the moment. He’s going to cause a scene.

“Of course,” he says. “But I’m in the middle of something.” He gestures to the solicitor, who frowns.

“Who the hell are you?”

Joker steps forward, holding his hand out to shake. “John Doe.”

“Right. Isn’t that a name they give unidentified dead people?” The man says skeptically, arms crossed. Joker pulls back with a pout.

“It’s my name.” He looks back at Bruce as if to say Can you believe this guy? He narrows his eyes at the salesman. “Now unless you were selling ways to avoid annoying conversations, I’d leave. My boyfriend and I are busy.” He keeps his arms around Bruce, waiting. Bruce knows if they weren’t at a social gathering in normal clothes the solicitor would be on the floor. As it is, if looks could kill...

The solicitor hems and haws at the situation, Bruce not wanting to comfort him but knowing how intimidating Joker can be, even when he isn’t out terrorising the city. Finally he mumbles an excuse and walks away, shooting a glance at Joker. Bruce breathes out a sigh of relief. He also shoots Joker a look, a mix of curiosity and annoyance, verging more on the side of the former.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks the man, who relaxes his grip.

“It was the first thing that came to mind,” Joker says flippantly. “Don’t like it?”

Bruce shakes his head. “No, I just didn’t expect it. I like it.”

Joker smiles smugly. “I thought you would.”

“How did you get in?” Bruce asks. This Gala was basically by invitation only, as far as he knows.

Joker’s less than amused by the question. “You don’t honestly think I wouldn’t be able to sneak in, do you? It was easy-peasy.” Bruce focuses on him, his hand lifting up one of Joker’s lapels. “Like the suit?” He places his hand over Bruce’s and flattens it over his chest, where a steady heartbeat pulses under Bruce’s fingers.

Bruce nods appreciatively, noting how it hangs on the clown’s frame perfectly. He doesn’t bother asking where the suit’s from, he doesn’t want to know. “It’s nice. Suits you.”

Joker snickers, keeping his voice quiet so that it isn’t his trademark laugh. “Your puns are awful.” He leans back on the banister, breathing in the cool air. “So, tonight’s the night. You ready?”

“I have to be,” Bruce says, looking out at the crowd. “Anything could happen at this point.”

A half hour to the auction and it feels like the calm before the storm. He’s going to have to just wait at this point, Joker sitting on the narrow railing casually.

A glint catches his eye, a person flipping a coin next to him. He looks up to see the person already looking at him with a grin.

“Nice night, isn’t it? For fireworks?” He says. Any other person would have shrugged it off, maybe commented yes, or how they didn’t know there’d be fireworks tonight. Bruce shrugs, though he’s on immediately put on guard and wants to punch the man in the mouth. The coin gives it away, of course it does. It’s a sign of Harvey’s plans.

“I guess, but I didn’t know there’d be fireworks,” he says, voice air-light. Joker smirks. The man smiles.

“They’re supposed to be explosive, you know what I mean? The main event.”

Bruce maintains his calm demeanor, nodding. “I had a friend who used to do that,” he points out, gesturing to the flipping coin. “Harvey Dent. He’s in Arkham though, right?”

“Didn’t you hear the news? Crazy son-of-a-bitch got out. No one knows where he is.”  The man is terrible at lying, Bruce can hear the joke in his voice.

“I hope Gotham’s safe.”

Joker coughs, trying not to turn it into a laugh. “Batman’ll save us. Always does, right? From those evil, nasty villains.” Bruce elbows him slightly, hoping he’ll knock it off.

“Hm.” The man smiles cryptically. Bruce narrows his eyes slightly, taking a glass of champagne off a passing tray. For appearances, again. He takes the tiniest sip, feigning indifference to the man but feeling every bit on edge.

“Anyways, I should get going, this party’s a drag.”

“Aw, what a shame,” Joker says, and Bruce knows he’s fighting not to roll his eyes. “Leaving before fireworks?”

“Never been a fan,” the man says as he walks away. Bruce decides not to follow him, Joker’s grip on his arm tightening.

“I’ve never liked that guy,” he murmurs, taking the glass from Bruce and swirling it. “Too cocky. Harv won’t let me take him out. You’re gonna let him go?”

“Of course not.” He comms Tim, who tells him he’ll make quick work of the man. He’s probably still in his suit, but so long as he isn’t seen he should be fine, Bruce is sure.

A crackling noise comes through the earpiece then, Bruce wincing at the sharpness of it.

“Oracle-”

“Hello, Bruce.”

A chill runs down Bruce’s back. “Harvey.” He edges further away from the crowd, making sure he’s out of earshot.

“Enjoying the gala?”

“Disappointed you’re not here,” Bruce deadpans. Harvey laughs. “How did you escape again?”

“Again? Sorry, Batman, I think you’re confused. Or maybe I pulled a fast one on you.” Bruce can almost see the smirk on the villain’s face, and has never wanted to reach through a phone and throttle someone more. “Anyways, how’s Alfred? A little lonely, I think.”

Bruce’s jaw clenches, his grip on the balcony tight. He doesn’t look at Joker, who he knows is listening intently to what Bruce is saying. “Leave him alone.”

“How about a race?” Dent asks smugly. “You getting here by the time I find the man. Shouldn’t be too hard for the Batman.” There’s a click, and his voice is gone, Oracle’s flooding through.

“He’s not at the manor yet. If you leave now you might be able to beat him there. I’ll warn Alfred.”

Bruce gnaws at his bottom lip anxiously.

“Can’t you let your kids deal with this?” Joker asks, noticing Bruce’s mood. His eyes are clouded over, the way they tend to get on long nights. He’s tense, ready to fight at moments notice. But Bruce shakes his head.

“I don’t want them to deal with everything happening here, not until the worst is over.”

Joker rolls his eyes, dragging Bruce further away from the crowd and into one of the darker halls, where they can’t see the main area. “Bats, they’re old enough to fix this, don’t you think? Let them take care of it.” Bruce listens, and the clown continues, “What about Robin?”

Bruce thinks about it. He could have Tim up on the main floor, nothing to worry about too much...

“Come on, you can’t always be the main hero. Go save your butler, he’s more important. Be selfish, just this once.” Joker’s eyes glimmer in the dark, reflecting like a cats. They focus on Bruce, who knows he’s right. He could trust Tim to do this, he’s been practicing for this for ages. But if something goes wrong… “You’re always taking care of the city, take care of yourself just this time.”

Bruce makes up his mind, albeit with more than a fair share of reluctance. “Alright, fine. Robin could handle this. Let me just check up on how everything else is going.”

*

Jason and Dick sneak past most of the thugs, rushing into the next room, where they find a whole machine rigged to the walls.

“Holy shit,” Jason breathes out. “They weren’t kidding when they said they wanted all of them dead. Bombs and...did we not get all of Crane’s toxin?”

A moderately large beaker of green liquid rests on top of a crate, a pump siphoning out the liquid into what Dick guesses leads to the emergency sprinklers.

“I guess not. It was probably just a diversion, when it comes down to it.” Dick kneels down next to the timer, glancing at the time. 00:45. “This gives us quite a bit of time, actually.” Right up until a few minutes into the auction, if the clock’s right.

“Don’t jinx us, Dick,” Jason warns. He stands near the door, making sure he doesn’t hear anyone stepping too close to where they are. “Here, I’ll disarm it, you stand watch.” He goes over and nudges Dick away from the timer, the latter standing and taking his place at the door. The walls are cold, the lights flickering. The perfect basement atmosphere, Dick thinks.

“I’ve never seen this kind of timer,” Jason mutters. “Sionis must’ve worked overtime to make it.” He pulls out his tablet, plugging it into the dangerous box. “It’s like the world’s deadliest relay. Everyone puts in their part and Dent finishes the race.”

“Not today he won’t,” Dick says. Steps come closer to the door, and he waves Jason away so that nothing seems out of the ordinary. He steps away from the door, and the thug walks in, the door shutting behind him.

“There’s no way I’m staying here while the bomb goes off. It’s a death sentence,” the thug mumbles. He carries his gun lazily, swinging it around like a baseball bat. Dick rolls his eyes, these people aren’t very loyal. But maybe that’s why they’re expendable in the long run. In any case, it’s time for the man to take a little nap. He steps out from behind, covering the thug’s face with his hand until he goes limp in his arms. Dragging him away so that he slumps against a wall, he returns to his spot at the door.

“Babs? I need you to turn off the mechanism for the emergency sprinklers.”

“Sure, but what about the explosives?”

“They’re on timer, Jason’s figuring it out, don’t worry.”

“I’ll send you what I have, Barb,” Jason says through his comm.

“Right. Is everything else alright?”

“So far so good, I’ll update you.” Dick hears a knock on the door.

“Hey buddy, you okay? You been in that room for a while.” Dick leans on the door, preparing his best thug impression.

He meets eyes with Jason, who watches him expectantly, ready to leap if need be. Lowering his voice, he answers. “Yeah, man, sorry. Just taking a break before the Bat shows up, making sure the bomb’s okay.”

There’s a pause. “You sound sick, you sure you’re okay?” Jason muffles a laugh, Dick faking a cough.

“I’m fine, honest. Just got a little cold, I’ll be right out.” He hears receding footsteps and breathes out a sigh of relief. Jason lets out his laugh, shaking his head.

“Nightwing the sick henchman. Amazing.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Dick retorts. “I’m an amazing voice actor.” A glance at his watch. Twenty-five minutes to the auction. So long as the bomb is disarmed in time they’ll be fine.

*

Tim looks back over his shoulder as he traverses the main room of the observatory, weaving around people and sneaking glances at the items behind the makeshift stage at the things being auctioned. A couple times he’s been looked at warningly, so he makes sure not to overstep. Or to overstep when he’s sure no one’s looking. Though he isn’t quite sure what he’s looking for. Anything could happen at this point. It’s a pile of fancy vases, jewelry, diamonds... nothing he’s particularly interesting, and nothing he’d count as being out of place. And yet he has a sneaking suspicion.

He makes the mistake of getting caught snooping, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the man says gruffly. He scowls at Tim, who shifts back so the hand falls.

“Sorry,” he tries. “I’m just super curious.” He laughs it off, quieting when the man doesn’t reciprocate. He sure doesn’t look like the usual upper-class type. His coat doesn’t fit him right, he’s not clean shaven, his hair is pushed back messily. Dick steps back away from the items, out of the man’s line of sight and away from anyone’s hearing.

“Bruce, some of these people aren’t the usual kind of millionaires. Just saying.” He states it casually, hand in his pocket as though he were just chatting to a friend though a bluetooth earpiece.

“Got it. No sign of Mr. Dent?” Bruce’s voice is just as relaxed, if Tim didn’t know him better he never would have noticed the slight tension in his tone.

“Not yet. Five more minutes and the auction starts, what do you want to do?”

“Well-”

“Haha! We finally disarmed it! Boy, imagine if it had gone off,” Jason pipes up. “Oh hell, I think they heard us. Dick, why didn’t you stop me?” He goes off his comm. Tim doesn’t know whether to laugh or worry about them now.

“Should I go help? I wore my suit under my clothes…”

Bruce sighs, and Tim can tell something isn’t right with him. “Yes. I’ll take care of things up here for now. But be careful, and hurry back. There’s something I need to take care of.” Tim enters the men’s bathroom, slipping off his coat. He doesn’t bother being too careful with his shirt, he can always get a new one later, but he makes sure to takes his mask out of his pocket. He exits the stall, and shoves his clothes into a bag he’d hidden in the small closet just in case. In hindsight, he hadn’t realised just how prepared he was.

Just as he prepares to sneak out someone walks through the door, blinking at him in astonishment.

“You’re Robin, right?” The man’s eyes are wide, not sure if he should move or stay and talk. Tim stops, fidgeting. He puts his hands on the man’s shoulders, switching places with him with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, but I gotta go, you know, protect you guys, so I can’t really talk.” He rushes out, still grabbing onto his bag, feeling the man’s gaze still on him. Well that was awkward. Wonder if it’s ever happened to Bruce…

The basement is empty save the men crowding around the door, where he assumes Dick and Jason are defending themselves best they can. Tim purses his lips, they won’t get anything done with the barricade of thugs. He sneaks up to the distracted men, pulling one away easily and knocking him out quickly. It’s not the best move and he knows they’ll realise they aren’t alone anymore. But he figures after the second man he takes out he can hide and cause a distraction away from Jason and Dick. Which is basically what happens.

He slides behind a divider, shifting away silently to avoid getting caught. He does not want to get riddled with bullets tonight. Or any night, come to think of it. Footsteps thud past him, and he glances back to where the door is, seeing Jason slip into the room quietly, staying in the shadows. Tim assumes Dick is taking care of any thugs that might have gotten into the room.

There’s a solitary thug stepping a little too close to him, he decides to kick his feet out from under him, knocking his head back hard against the floor and choosing a different spot to hide. He sees Jason taking care of two, though he notices there are less than before. Maybe they were smart and ran before the bomb exploded. Self-preservation is a good quality in a person, it makes them reliable that way. It also leaves less people to waste energy on, at the moment. He meets eyes with Jason, who drops silently to knock a man to the floor. Dick’s finally left the room to take care of the last two men who’d been frantically waving around their guns, looking a little too trigger-happy for Tim’s liking.

When the coast is clear he walks out, Dick passing out high-fives. Jason complies with a weak hand, Tim returning it with more energy. Now all that’s left is Dent, who Bruce can probably take care of, but not in his fancy suit. He’s probably feeling super antsy just thinking about it.

Tim opens his mouth to talk, but he freezes when he hears a click.

“Don’t move, any of you.” Tim fights the urge to turn and face the thug, Dick watching him. Jason growls. “Put the gun down. Your hands are shaking, you probably can’t even use it.”

A round of bullets goes off, flying right past Tim’s ear, who at this point is barely even breathing.

“You think I can’t? Turn around slowly.”

Tim pivots to face the man, trying to stay expressionless.

“There’s three of us,” Dick states. “Think about it. Take down one of us and two more will pin you down.”

The man’s expression is steely, eyes on Dick. Tim nods just the slightest bit at Jason, who brings a hand up to his ear slowly.

“Imagine if we had a blackout right about now,” he says casually. The man turns to him angrily, but Jason just holds his hands up innocently. Barbara’s voice comes through all of their headsets, Tim smiling just the slightest bit.

“Heads up.”

The nurse’s breath comes in short pants, eyes wild. “Mr. Lynn, he was complaining about a stomachache, so we took him in, but he went crazy! H-he knocked one of us out, started pouring rubbing alcohol everywhere! I have no idea where he got his weapons, they were in lockdown-”

“Relax,” Dick says soothingly. “We’re gonna get this under control. Go find shelter in one of the other buildings.”

“Is anyone in the infirmary?” Bruce asks. The nurse nods, and he rushes off. “Take care of Firefly while I help them,” he calls out to Dick. He doesn’t look back as he rushes into the burning building, thanking his lucky stars his suit is fireproof. He thinks if he wasn’t in it he’d melt like a popsicle. Which makes him worry about those still stuck in the infirmary.

“Hello?” He calls out. He can barely hear over the crackling of the fire and the collapsing rubble, but a faint cough catches his attention. He walks carefully over to the sound, shielding himself from any falling debris.

Another cough. Fainter this time. It’s behind a weak, charred door, the smoke heavy and dark. Bruce doesn’t have a breathing mask on, he doesn’t have time when there are lives at risk. He keeps part of cloak over his face, finding the source of the cough, a nurse who’s curled into a ball on the ground. His hair is matted with blood, a purpling bruise forming on his head. Picking him up, Bruce carries him out carefully, using his cape to shield the weakened man. Beams of wood have collapsed over the main entrance, so he decides to go through a broken window. He places the man on the ground, running back in without another thought. This goes on, at one point Dick bursts through, hitting a wall in a painful manner. Bruce helps him up.

“Are you alright?”

Dick wipes blood from his mouth, his suit scratched. “Fine. Your friend is helping…I think. Though some of his jokes are just angering Firefly… How many more people are in here?”

“I’m guessing at least a couple, this building wasn’t very sturdy to begin with, I think they could easily be trapped.”

“Hurry up if you can, this building doesn’t have much longer.” As if to prove his point part of the second floor caves in, revealing a patient. Dick goes back out to face the villain while Bruce makes his way up, the patient lying on a frail ledge. His grappling hook won’t help, but as he rushes up the stairs he finds the door is locked. Bruce doesn’t have time, impatiently kicking the already warped door down.

The patient is in the room across the way, fallen spots of flooring proving a hazard. The floor seems to bend under Bruce’s weight as he makes his way over to the man. The patient’s eyes are barely open as he reaches towards Bruce, Bruce slinging him over his shoulder to jump down. His ears pick up on a quiet sobbing.

“Where are you?” he calls out. Sweat streams down his face, the heat almost unbearable. The sobbing pauses.

“Over here!” The voice says. Bruce makes his way over to where he hears her call, a nurse he remembers from past visits. There’s a long scratch on her arm, her expression serious and tear-stained. Her leg is pinned by a heavy beam, Bruce setting down the inmate to move the wood, the woman crying out in pain. Her leg is bruised, probably broken. Bruce picks her up, then the inmate. He has to crouch as debris keeps falling on him. New paths are formed by the wreck, fire proving to be a dangerous threat around the entrance. Praying his suit hasn’t taken too much damage he cloaks the three of them in his cape. He jumps over fallen parts of the ceiling, the exit a long way away. He leaps, trying to avoid the fire.

The flame licks at his feet, and it feels like an eon before his feet touch the ground outside, placing the people down on the ground near the other nurse.

Firefly has left a mess. It’s chaos in the area, people running, screaming, firefighters not yet here, nurses that did get out helping the injured. Dick has gotten rid of Firefly’s flame thrower, but the man still hovers, causing what trouble he can. He resorts to throwing flaming projectiles at the ground, Dick dodging as much as he can. There’s no sign of Joker anywhere. Bruce needs to stop this.

“Lynn!” He shouts up at the criminal. Firefly looks down, grinning viciously when he sees Bruce.

“You like my masterpiece Batman? I call it Flames over Arkham.”

“Get down here!”

“Not a chance! I like not getting caught and having my greatest work ruined.”

Bruce growls, taking out his grappling hook. He shoots it at Firefly, who avoids it the first time, gliding higher. Bruce is luckier the second time.

He drags Lynn down, punching at his jetpack and rendering it unusable, pulling out tubes to help keep him afloat. Lynn shout angrily, dive-bombing to the ground but quick to stand up. Bruce punches him once, twice, three times. Lynn collapses, eyes rolling back into his head, but the damage is done. The infirmary still goes on burning, Dick gone to help in what ways he can. By the time the fire department arrives the building will be nothing but ashes.

“Bats!” Bruce turns to see Joker, accompanied by… Victor Fries. Christ, Arkham needs to up its security. Bruce eyes the taller man, Mr. Freeze not intimidated in the slightest.

“Batman,” he says coolly, holding his cryothermal gun in front of him casually.

“Mr. Freeze,” Bruce says in much the same tone.

“If I do this I want you to let me go,” he gestures to the flames, Bruce can only assume he’ll freeze the building to stop the fire. Bruce has little choice in the matter, and as villains go he isn’t the worst to have escaped. He nods, and Freeze gives a tired little sigh. He starts up his gun, ice flowing from it till the infirmary is shining in freezing crystal. Surrounding buildings that had caught fire get thin layers of ice as well, until it looks more like winter than fall. “Done.” Fries doesn’t look back as he retreats, his figure fading into the shadow.

Joker steps onto one of the sheets of ice left on the ground, pushing along it like he’s skating. His balance is awful though, a few steps in and he’s fighting hard to keep it. Bruce tries not to laugh, but Joker seems to catch the smile he’s not fighting too hard to hide.

“This is harder than it looks, sweetheart. I’d like to see you try,” the clown challenges, giving up the fight and landing hard on the ice with a wince. Bruce offers to help him up, but he gets his hand pushed away. “I can get up myself, thank you,” Joker says primly, dusting himself off. He winks at Bruce.

“Batman!” Dick appears behind them. “Everyone here is safe, we should get going.”

“Batman?” Tim. Bruce pushes away his apprehensiveness, replying.

“What’s up, Robin?”

“No sign of any trouble. A few criminals, but other than that it’s been completely quiet. Do you want us anywhere else?”

Well, everywhere on Joker’s list has been searched, Penguin not giving up any information. Gordon hasn’t found anything or he would’ve heard by now, and Oracle has stayed mostly silent as well. Despite everything, they haven’t been able to solve this before the event. But Bruce realises that while this might be dangerous, it’d make sense to stop this at during the Gala. He can get it close as Bruce Wayne, with no one being any the wiser. He hates that it’s come to this, but as it stands it’s the last option. His mind is made up when he answers.

“No. Meet me at the Batcave, we have a plan to discuss.”

“Got it.”

“I’m guessing we’re not going to end this tonight,” Dick says, running a hand through his hair.

Bruce meets his gaze. “No, we’re not. But we’ll fix it. I promise.” There’s nothing he’d like more than to finally be done with this week, but improvisation is part of this job. The Batmobile has gotten its fair share of milage.

Gordon shows up before they leave, taking care of any loose ends. The look of mistrust and hatred he wears when he sees Joker is clear, but he can’t do anything about it if Bruce isn’t actively taking him in. Joker’s look is a little too sharp around the edges for this to be comfortable. Bruce steps between them in an indistinct manner, making sure the commissioner knows the goings-on before he goes.

Dick leans on the Batmobile, perplexion drawn on his face. “Can I talk to you, Batman?” He glances at Joker, then back at Bruce, and he knows Joker isn’t wanted in this conversation.

“Joker, can you wait by the Batmobile?”

“Sure, I was getting bored anyways,” the man feigns an enormous yawn, leaning on the sleek black car. When he looks back Bruce can see the curiosity in Joker’s eyes, a bright flicker that doesn’t quite fade out. Bruce moves away from the car with Dick, standing next to a relatively young tree, the branches only a couple feet higher than their heads.

Bruce fights the urge to fidget under Dick’s probing gaze. “What do you need?”

“Are you letting Joker into your plan?” Bruce exhales, having a hunch where this is leading.

“I don’t know yet, why?”

“Well, if you did you’d have to let him into the Batcave, right? Which you didn’t seem all that worried about when he was standing not two feet away from you when you told Tim.” Dick taps his foot on the ground. “He knows who you are, doesn’t he?” Just like that, it’s out. Bruce nods his head just the slightest bit. “How long?”

“A while,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Dick breathes out, almost unsurprised. “He hasn’t said anything, at least. So,” he looks away, out at the now-ice sculpture that decorates the asylum, “now what I’m wondering is where all this trust you have for him suddenly came from. I’ve been watching you two, you know.” His voice is almost accusatory.

“Oh.” Bruce tries to look anywhere but at his former ward. He’d known if this conversation was going to happen it was going to be awkward. He hadn’t known just how awkward.

Dick narrows his eyes. “Bruce, when we were talking this morning…were you talking about Joker?”

Uncomfortable. That’s what this questioning is. It’s what he deserves, no way this would make sense to them, at the very least not right away. Bruce has no idea what to say, so he stays quiet while he waits for words to magically show up.

Dick frowns. “No, you’re not going all dark and broody on me. Answer the question.”

Bruce doesn’t exactly meet Dick’s eyes when he answers. “Yes, it was him.”

“Bruce.” Dick sighs. “Why?”

“I don’t know. He’s different around me.” He does know why, actually, but he won’t say the real reasons. The fact that he has a lame sense of humor, his intelligence, his brashness. The fact that he won’t give up on something he wants, even though they aren’t what the city needs or wants. His ingenuity, even when it ends up getting Gotham tied up in another mystery. All these things that people only ever see the dark side of. Granted, it’s one of the only sides he chooses to show to the general public, but Bruce knows there’s something there. It’s like Dick knows what he’s thinking, and the furrow on his brow shows his disagreement.

“After what he did to Jason and Babs?” Dick asks softly. Bruce closes his eyes. “How can you be sure he’s changed, that you can actually trust him?”

Guilt washes over him, but Bruce answers. “I can’t tell you that. I just…do. Trust me, please. You don’t have to like it. It sounds crazy, even to me. But I won’t let him hurt anyone if something happens.”

“How can you guarantee that?” Dick asks finally. His arms are crossed, looking right at Bruce.

Bruce frowns. He can’t, not as long as Joker is…himself, really. But… “I’ll figure something out, I promise.” He pauses before adding, “I’ll tell everyone once this whole thing is over.”

Dick watches a leaf fall from a tree, once vibrant red faded to orange. “I’ll keep your secret for now. But if that’s your plan, you can’t let him into the Batcave. Not if Jason’s coming.”

“I know.” Bruce hesitates, but points out, “You’re surprisingly calm about this.” Dick frowns thoughtfully, his hand reaching out to pat Bruce on the shoulder.

“I’ve had time to think over it. I thought I’d be more in shock, but actually, it’s always been like this, hasn’t it. You’re two sides of the same coin.” A corner of his mouth tilts up slightly into a strained smile. “I don’t exactly know what’s going on in your head, but I’m here for you if you need me. Though you might just need a psychiatrist.” His laugh is only half forced, Bruce’s smile a bit less than that. “But if anything goes wrong, tell me and I’ll kick his ass back to Arkham.”

“Agreed,” Bruce says, looking over at the Batmobile. Joker’s completely reclined, lying on the hood of the car, jiggling his foot lazily, no doubt humming to some tune stuck in his head. Dick shakes his head.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Bruce’s face feels warm. He walks ahead of Dick towards the car, clearing his throat so that Joker looks up at him.

“What’s up, Bats?”

“So you know I’m going over the plan later on in the Batcave.”

Joker nods. “Don’t worry, I won’t go. Much as I’d love to see it, I’m not up for your whole family ganging up on me.” He laughs softly. “Another time, maybe, when the odds are more even.”

Bruce presses his lips together before leaning in closer. “Nightwing knows,” he murmurs into the clown’s ear.

“Really?” Joker looks first at Dick, then around at the clearing field, his smile cat-like. “That’s good to hear.” He pushes himself up on his elbows, rushing forward and kissing Bruce, the latter slightly put off guard, eyes wide. Joker pulls back with a giggle. “I think your surprised kisses taste better than your regular ones. Though come to think of it, both of them have been surprised so far…”

Bruce pulls away, glad most of his cowl covers his blush. “Just because he knows doesn’t mean you can kiss me all the time.”

Joker just raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What did you think I was gonna do with that knowledge? Nod sagely and say, ‘well, there’s a relief’? I thought you knew me better than that.”

Bruce is ready to argue when Dick finally approaches them. He settles for shooting Joker a warning look instead. “So, are we good to go?” His eyes flicker over Joker, his look one of confusion and distrust.

“Where do you want me to drop you off?” Bruce asks Joker, who slides off the hood and places his hands on his hips.

“You know what? I feel like walking.”

“You’re miles away from Gotham,” Bruce reminds him. Joker shrugs.

“It’ll give me the exercise. Just tell me when you’re done sorting out your plan. Now you know the number works, right?” He adds coyly.

“Yeah,” Bruce says with a heavy sigh. Joker grins at Dick, who’s starting to look uncomfortable standing between both of them.

“I’ll see you later then, won’t I? How many buildings do you think I can break into in the span of a couple hours? I’m guessing at least ten, if I try,” He calls back as he saunters off, Dick not exactly a picture of happiness.

“You’d better hope he’s just joking.”

“I’m forty percent sure,” Bruce says, his smile laced with exasperation.

*

It’s an unfamiliar and almost comforting sight, seeing most of his family in the Batcave. Barbara is still the tower, though she’ll be listening. Alfred sits at the computer, Tim at his side pointing out the different streets they’d been on or around. Jason looks down at his phone a few feet away, breathing out a laugh. Bruce has a sneaking suspicion he’s looking at memes. Tim gets the same look on his face when he’s on his phone in the morning, showing Bruce whatever he finds funniest. To be honest, most of them fly right over Bruce’s head. He guesses it’s like an inside joke he isn’t exactly privy to. He looks up when Bruce walks in, stowing his phone in his pocket. His mask is off, showing off black hair and blue eyes like the rest of them.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred greets him. “You couldn’t stop them?”

“No, I couldn’t. They’ve hidden too well. Penguin made sure of that,” he says bitterly. “But that just made me realise if I’m at the gala, which I will be, I can take care of it there.”

“In a tux?” Jason asks. “Don’t you think that might be a little obvious?”

“There’ll be opportunities for distractions,” Dick says thoughtfully. “But Jason’s right. One of us should come with. Maybe Tim. It could be weird if Jason suddenly came back from the dead.”

“Could be?” Jason says with a laugh. Tim crosses his arms, fingers tapping at his arms.

“Maybe I could go, and Dick, you and Jason can be behind the scenes,” he suggests. He types something into the computer, pulling up the schematics of the observatory. “We looked around here earlier,” he says, pointing to the second and third floors of the observatory, “and I think we could pinpoint places they might show up if we try. The only thing is that place is going to be crowded.”

Dick points to the exit leading to control rooms. “They’ll most likely be there too, it’s away from the crowd and most people aren’t going to want to sneak in.”

“Right.” Bruce zooms in on the control room.

“Guys? You might want to check below ground too, below the observatory.” Barbara chimes in, her face appearing on one of the screens. The screen moves to the basement, where Bruce can see many areas that could possibly store explosives and whatever else they kept away from him.

“Sir, if I may. They’ll probably assume you’re going to try, Batman never gives up, after all.” Alfred states, “What if it’s not what you expect?” Bruce pauses, still looking at the screen. “I can’t afford to think like that when so many people are endangered. Whatever happens, we’ll be ready for it. Gordon will be there too, this is a top priority at this point.” The glow of the computer screen strains a bit at Bruce’s eyes, but he’s too focused trying to map the place out in his head. Whatever helps, he needs to try it.

“I can help too,” Barbara mentions. “Electrical distractions, blackouts, wi-fi shutdowns, whatever you need.” Bruce smiles. This plan is starting to come together nicely.

“What about the clown?” Jason drawls out casually, his tenseness contradicting his tone.

“What about him?” Tim says. “Is he still helping?” They all look to Bruce, who feels like a deer caught in the headlights. Dick and Alfred look sympathetic, but still just as interested as Tim and Jason. He knows he’ll tell Joker about the plan, he’s helped so far, but whether or not the man wants to continue is up to him.

“I don’t know yet,” Bruce says. “I’ll tell you if he is though.”

Jason sighs, but he doesn’t say anything else. He looks like he’d love to, but Dick nudges him, muttering something into his ear, and he turns away. Alfred meets Bruce’s eyes, the butler’s gaze mournful. Soon, he thinks. Soon there won’t be secrets. He’s kept too many, now they feel like one more and they’ll overflow.

“You said they aren’t working together, right?” Dick chews on his lip, deep in thought. “I thought it started up as a Penguin/Two-Face team-up.”

Bruce sits at the computer. “That’s what I thought too. Except someone broke them out first. And slowly more villains started to get out to wreak havoc. It’s too chaotic, and frankly it isn’t Penguin’s style, even though he’s been taking most of the credit for it.” He pulls up the pictures of all the villains from this past week, trying to figure out what’s really going on. Maybe they hadn’t been acting separately at first, initially agreeing with spreading out what supplies they had, but each had their own agenda to act out. And suddenly it became about what they wanted instead. Bane was always one to branch out with his own vendetta, Scarecrow only interested in fear. Penguin would’ve taken advantage of that, of course, but it’s still not like him to attack in this manner. Which begs the question: who’s actually in charge?

“What about Ra’s al Ghul?” Alfred says, looking at the screen. “We haven’t heard from him in quite a long time.”

Bruce shakes his head. “This isn’t his style either. He would’ve sent some sort of message, or Talia would have told me.” He hasn’t heard from Ra’s daughter either, though she has been out of town for training. At least, that’s what he thinks she’s been doing. She’s very secretive when she wants to be.

“I don’t think she would have,” Oracle chimes in, “but I agree. This isn’t like Ra’s. If anything it’s like Joker’s brand of chaos.”

“It’s not him,” Bruce says automatically. He realises what the whole point of this was to begin with. “Getting rid of Gotham’s wealthiest? It sounds like Harvey.” He holds up a hand to still Dick and Tim, mouths already forming words. “I know, it sounds crazy, now that I caught him, but Penguin was confident it would still go through. Why would he be so sure unless Harvey was still in control?”

“Bruce, he was the first one you caught. It would’ve been over by then, he’d have no control over his henchmen,” Tim protests. Bruce nods.

“What was that about?” Dick asks, dressed to head out to Barbara’s. His hair looks stiff with gel, which makes Bruce frown and mess it up. Dick protests but Bruce cuts him off.

“You look better like this,” he says, “You’re not going to an interview, you’re going to hang out with your girlfriend.”

“Fine. But why was the press here?”

“Why do they ever show up? For information and uncomfortable conversations.” Dick looks confused, so he decides to enlighten him. “People saw me dancing with a man yesterday at that restaurant and Gotham was in an uproar.”

Dick blinks. “You’re gay? Or bi?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Bruce laughs awkwardly. Dick shrugs.

“So what? Why do they have to make a big deal out of nothing?” He kneels down to tie his shoelaces. “I mean, it’s just who you love, not that world-changing. You should call them when you find out who Batman really is,” he jokes.

Bruce hums in agreement. “So what do you and Barb have planned?”

Standing up, Dick runs a hand through his already messed up hair. “You know, I was thinking we could sightsee. Or maybe watch a movie. Or stay at home and do something. I’m not picky.”

An idea springs into Bruce’s head. “Take her to a cafe. There’s a great one across Wayne Tower, they have really good cheesecake.”

“Really?” Dick furrows his brow. “I think I know which one you’re talking about. You’ve gone? Doesn’t seem like your kind of venue.”

“I had nothing else to do. And if I hadn’t gone I would’ve missed out.” He edits out the real story, but the last bit is true.

“Alright. Well, I should go. I’m taking the Lamborghini.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Don’t get it scratched up.”

“C’mon Bruce, you know me.” Dick winks. Yes, he does. As skilled a driver as he is, he’s still totaled a couple of Bruce’s best cars. “I’ll be back before nightfall.” He exits, leaving Bruce to slip out of his coat. Today is going to be a relaxing day, he promises himself. No going out, no phone calls, no anything. His eyes are half-shut when he falls onto the couch.

And then his phone rings.

With a groan Bruce looks at the caller ID. No name; it could be anyone really. Fine. He answers.

“Hello?”

“So I heard you were in the East End last night.” Selina. Bruce can hear the annoyance in her voice.

“I had a good reason. Scarecrow and Black Mask were there. They were going to poison the water system if I didn’t stop them.” Bruce turns on the TV, idly clicking on the remote.

“Really. And you didn't tell me?”

“I had a lot on my mind.” He stops flipping at a Harry Potter marathon. How many times have they marathoned this on TV in the past couple months? It’s almost constantly running. And if he’s exaggerating, it’s not by much. He leaves it on as background noise.

“Look, I appreciate you stopping them. Just tell me next time. When I saw Nightwing there I was about ready to knock him out. Didn't he tell you?”

He’d failed to mention that, actually. “Did he explain why?”

“Yes. I don’t like this, Bruce. It’s been so long since something like this has happened. Don’t get me wrong, taking a few millionaires down a peg or three doesn’t sound awful. But killing them all?”

“I know. But I’m going to fix it.”

“Tell me when you’re done, maybe we can do something, it’s awfully cold and the fireplace is roaring,” she purrs. Bruce rolls his eyes, but he can’t help a smile.

“You don’t have a fireplace.” The woman on the other end of the line laughs, and Bruce joins in. Once the laughter fades he says, “I’ll see you later, Selina,” the mirth in his voice audible.

“Bye, Batman.” She hangs up, her laugh the last thing Bruce hears before the phone clicks. She’s a valuable friend, he realises. He enjoys her company for what it is, upfront, witty, and relaxed. But it’s just that, that softer feeling of friendship, not unlike what he feels for Clark, or even Jim Gordon. He leans back on the couch, watching as Harry faces off against Voldemort. He can’t help but feel critical. Villains are rarely that one-sided.

Sitting on the couch got boring pretty fast. Countless pushups and crunches later and he feels more productive, though when he checks the clock it’s only eleven in the morning. What could he do to pass time? He glances at the phone. His finger taps at the leather of the couch rapidly. It might not be a good idea. It probably isn’t a good idea. But…

He turns on his phone, Joker’s number already in the contacts. The phone rings once...twice…

“Hello?” Damn, he’s not ready for this. It feels too casual all of a sudden. He hesitates. Joker’s voice is bright though. “Bats, is that you?”

“Hi, Joker.”

“It’s been a while.” It really hasn’t, it’s only been a few hours, but Bruce isn’t about to tell him that. “Oh, have you seen the newspaper, dear? We look amazing.”

“You saw that?”

“Saw it? I scrapbooked it!” Bruce can imagine the smug look on Joker’s face. He also thinks he knows the man enough that yes, he did in fact scrapbook it. He’s seen pictures up on the walls of his hideouts before, newspaper clipping and old Batman sightings from when he was just getting started. He still doesn’t know how to respond. It’s strange. “...You did call me, Batsy. Getting cold feet?”

“No.” Bruce’s defensiveness spikes. “You sound like you’re in a good mood, though.”

“Oh, I am.” Joker giggles. “Can’t compare to whenever I see your devilish good looks, but it’s a close second.” Shameless flirting. Okay. He can deal with this.

“Miss me?”

“Always.” Bruce can hear the smile in Joker’s voice. “My other half, the one who beats the crap out of me whenever I wreak havoc. When are we getting back to that, by the way? I miss our little sessions.”

Bruce snorts. “You miss that?”

Joker laughs. “Well that was an attractive sound. And yeah, I do actually.” He sighs. “Don’t you?”

As a matter of fact Bruce does. He hasn’t thought about it much, but it’s true. Fighting on rooftops in the rain, kicks and punches as fluid as a dance. Moves like reflexes. Adrenaline. “Yeah, I guess I do. This is the longest you’ve been around me without an actual fight.”

“Too monotonous.” A voice calls out in the background, Joker’s voice quieter as he tells the speaker to shut up. The voice answers back more animatedly, to which he replies with exasperation. Bruce figures it’s Harley in the background. He waits till the talking stops.

“So? What are you doing? Should I be worried?”

“It’s a secret. You’ll find out soon enough.” There’s a crash on the other end. Bruce frowns.

“What was that?”

“Darling, don’t worry about it. Trust me, you’ll like the surprise. I know I do.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Another crash. “Gotta go, I’m working right now. Ciao!” Joker ends the call abruptly, Bruce blinking at the short response. He’s suspicious, but knows he won’t get any answers until tonight. He slowly sets the phone down. And wishes the sun was setting.

*

He decides to let Tim come along tonight. He did a fair job in helping him and Dick out last night, and he does keep a level head for the most part. He’ll be working with Jason though, making sure there isn’t anything wrong at the Gotham Observatory, where the Gala will be held. Dick will be coming with him and Joker to the docks, but first he decides to check out Ace chemicals.

The weather is actually nicer today, the night still safe a slight breeze. There’s no report of snow, yet he can see a few flakes drifting in the cold October atmosphere. He breathes in the cold air, the sharp chill of it waking up his senses.

Bruce hasn’t visited Ace Chemicals in months. It hasn’t changed much, the plant only up and running half the time. Recently it’s been closed down for “remodeling”. He assumes that’s still the case, if it’s being used as a base. His instincts tell him it’s rigged in some way, but he won’t know until he gets closer. So he does, grappling to the top and looking in through a window.

The whole place is decked out in greenery, vines twisting about on the floor. Ivy. But there are also hints of something else, more Joker-ish in nature. A colourful box here, some toys strewn about. He purses his lips. Okay, so Joker has a hand in this. This must be the surprise he was talking about. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting it, the way he was talking earlier, and the fact that Harley was there. It’s a challenge. Just not one he has time for.

Bruce glances around, seeing a grate he can enter through. The closer he can get the better.

He’s inside when he hears Joker’s voice through speakers.

“What do you think, Bats? Interesting, right? Just wait.” A laugh.

Bruce takes out a few men, dodging and cutting at vines that rush at him. The factory only holds about a dozen thugs, not counting Harley, Ivy, and Joker. And it isn’t too big a complication. Though Ivy is obviously getting a kick out of it. There are plants everywhere. He can handle it, but those on top of armed henchmen he’s wasting time. He brushes by them, not discriminating, his goal just on the control room.

Harley lands in front of him, grinning. “What’s up, B-man?” She throws a punch, Bruce dodging and retaliating. Her blows don’t land, Bruce avoiding them easily, landing a hit. Harley grits her teeth, but instead of recoiling she uses the momentum for a kick. It hits Bruce’s side. He grunts, but the pain isn’t enough to stop him from knocking her back.

“Get back before I knock you out,” Bruce warns. Harley pretends to think about it.

“I think I’m good, you know? This is way more fun!” She jumps at him, landing a solid kick to his side. Again and Bruce blocks a second kick, knocking her away. She comes back in with a flurry of punches laughing as Bruce tries to block them. It’s when she lands a hit to his jaw that Bruce decides to act, ducking and throwing a punch at her stomach. In her haste to avoid the blow she missteps, and he takes that opportunity to pulls her towards him, twisting her arm behind her back.

She cries out in pain, and that’s when Ivy decides to join in. Large thorns erupt from the ground around them, Bruce stepping back with Harley. He makes quick work of tying her hands together, watching the floor warily.

“Gotta say, this is way more interesting than any movie I’ve seen!” Joker’s voice rings out. Bruce aims a look at the control room, narrowing his eyes. A vine snakes towards him, Bruce cutting it in two with a batarang. When Ivy reveals herself her eyes are blazing.

“How dare you hurt my babies?”

“And me,” Harley calls out. Bruce lets Harley drop to the floor, the woman falling with an “ow”. One of Ivy’s vines picks her up, placing her to a side before rushing at Bruce. He kicks at the plants, making his way closer to Ivy. Leaves slash through the air like throwing knives, a couple knicking Bruce, sharp like papercuts. He pushes on, avoiding thorny barriers and feeling as though he was walking through a deadly jungle.

It’s too late when Ivy realises Bruce has the upper hand, a few steps ahead of her. He knocks her to the ground, hand pinned on her neck. She hisses in anger, but he quickly places a blow to her temple that knocks her unconscious, her plants writhing before dropping to the floor. He glances up at Harley, who pouts.

“You’ll get what’s comin’ to you Batman! Just wait!” Her smile turns sly. Bruce drops Ivy off next to her, making sure they’re both bound tightly enough that they won’t get free any time soon. Time to go up into the control room. He steps over plants on the stairs, the windows streaming light. He guesses whatever he came for is there, as is Joker.

When he walks in there’s no sign of anyone, but he finds schematics of the observatory, as well as explosives and masks. Good, it’s all there. He places a tracker, knowing Joker is behind him the moment he hears a quiet click. He turns slowly. And his reflexes take over to avoid a kick to the head, a flash of purple that rushes past his eyes and causes him to jerk back. Bruce grabs at Joker’s leg, throwing the clown off balance and tossing him across the room. Joker hits the ground laughing, on his hands and knees. He stands up to run at Bruce again, a spark in his eye. Ducking before Bruce can knock him down, Joker doesn’t hesitate in throwing a punch that brings stars to Bruce’s eyes. He lunges again, a quick strike that gives Bruce only seconds to deflect. Another punch, a cuff to the head. He’s aggressive with his attack, Bruce waiting for the opportunity to retaliate. When he does Joker’s leg is just close enough for Bruce to kick at, throwing the man off balance. Bruce pushes him back with a hit to the chest that knocks the breath out of his lungs. Joker stumbles back, giving Bruce the opportunity to pin him against the wall, unable to attack again. The man gives a breathless laugh, eyes level with Bruce's.

“So, now what, Dark Knight?” he asks, resting his forehead against Bruce's. They're both breathing heavily, exchanging breaths in the messy room.

“You realise I'm running out of time, right?” Bruce frowns at Joker's careless little shrug.

“That's what your bat-brats are for, Brucie. You needed a little... distraction.” Joker smirks, Bruce not relaxing his grip. “Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it.” He places his hands on Bruce's waist, sending shivers through his body even through the layer of armor.

“Not the point.” He pulls back a bit, but Joker doesn't let him go, eyes half-lidded. His expression unnerves Bruce, but it also makes his heart beat rapidly, chest still heaving. “What are you doing?”

He barely has time to react as Joker presses his lips to his. Bruce makes a small sound of surprise.

This. This is crazy. He’s thought about it but now that it’s happening it’s all he can do not to short-circuit.  A rush of warmth suddenly hits him and he melts, deepening the kiss and pressing against the wiry man. He cradles Joker’s face in his hand, feeling warmth through his gloves. Joker’s trying not to smile into the kiss, he knows that, he can feel it, that slight pull to his mouth that only makes Bruce want to kiss him more. He tastes of cotton candy and something slightly chemical, a metallic tang that should be a deterrent but isn’t. It’s just something that fits, surprisingly.

Joker loops his arms around to pull Bruce down towards him, nails scratching at his cowl. Bruce almost loses himself completely, but the nagging in his mind reminds him of the task at hand. Which, if he weren’t Batman he would ignore it, but being a hero...

“We have to go,” he tries to say, the words turning to a mumble as Joker recaptures his mouth. Bruce lets himself enjoy a few more seconds before he puts his hand to the wall to steady himself. When he pulls away, Joker lets out a quiet whine of annoyance. “Joker. The docks.” Joker opens his eyes, his makeup more of a mess than usual, his pupils dilated so that only a thin ring of green is visible around them.

“Five more minutes.” He grabs at Bruce, who pushes him away firmly. “Bats.”

“We need to get to the docks, J.” He makes to turn away when Joker tugs him back.

“Wait. You have lipstick on your mouth,” Joker says with a satisfied little smirk. “Now that’s a look I could get used to.” Bruce’s knows his face is flushed but Joker continues, pulling out a handkerchief. “Wouldn’t want your little bat-family to see though.”

He helps Bruce clean it off, Bruce protesting, “You don’t have to say ‘bat’ in front of everything.”

“Well let’s see. Batman, Batmobile, Batsuit, Batarangs, Batwing...kind of a running theme,” Joker points out. Bruce is unable to come up with a good comeback. The clown looks over Bruce until he can’t see any traces of paint. When he’s satisfied he nods, reapplying his own. Their breathing is steadier, though Bruce still feels like he’s floating. It’s an odd, light feeling, his nerves are on fire but in the nicest way possible. He smiles uncertainly at Joker. The man beams before kissing him again lightly. “Alright, we can go to the docks now. Nightwing is going to meet us?”

“That’s the plan.”

They head down the stairs, where they find Harley free of her bonds and cradling Ivy’s head in her lap, Ivy murmuring about how next time they should just plan a picnic at a garden. She glares when she sees Bruce, but Harley’s eyes are on Joker, whose smug expression is clear on his face. She winks at Bruce, who suddenly wants to sprint out of the factory, grapple onto a very tall building, and jump.

Instead he settles for a warning. “If I hear anything else from you two the rest of the week I’m dragging you down to Blackgate myself.”

Harley leans back, smiling crookedly. “We got it, Batman. We’ll be quiet as mice, won’t we, Red?”

“Stop hurting my plants or you’ll be in a body bag, Batman,” Ivy says, the severity of her gaze not lessening. Bruce nods.

“Noted.” He gestures to Joker to get a move on, the clown walking up to the Batmobile before him. They get in, Joker turning the radio on. He cringes when the only thing that plays is the police scanner.

“Please tell me you have music.”

“I don’t have time for music when I’m in this car,” Bruce says, thinking it obvious. He’s not going to jam out to tunes when people are in danger. That’s pure evil.

“It adds to atmosphere! Imagine racing after baddies listening to ACDC! Or maybe some obnoxious pop song, I don’t know. What kind of music do you like?”

Bruce doesn’t reply. Usually he listens to older tracks, unless Dick or Tim plays the newest song. But he doesn’t like anything specific really. Joker looks at him expectantly. “...Eighties music. Journey.”

Joker nods. “Not what I had in mind, but I can see that.” He opens the window, cold air rushing in. Whooping and laughing in delight, he sticks his head out, eyes closed. He only comes back in to ask how fast it can go. Bruce smirks, pushing down on the gas till they’re a blur. Joker finds himself pushed back into his seat, cackling at the rush.

One of the perks of being a vigilante? No one questions when you’re speeding.

*

The docks look the same as they did on Monday, though this time Dick waits for them near the entrance.

“You guys took your time. I’ve been waiting for at least fifteen minutes.”

Bruce glances at Joker, who raises an eyebrow. “There were...complications that held us back. Anyways,” he gestures to the clown. “Lead the way.”

Joker cracks his knuckles, rolling back his shoulder like he’s about to put on a show. “Gladly. Ozzie’s got eyes everywhere, but if we go through the docks he won’t expect it.” He strides into the maze that is the docks, humming the mission impossible theme. Dick looks at Bruce out of the corner of his eyes, but Bruce doesn’t respond, starting after Joker. They’re headed in completely the opposite direction, more towards the shipyards themselves then around the shipping containers, the slight creaking of the ships putting Bruce on edge. It makes complete sense that Penguin would have a ship though. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the need to be extra cautious, some of his worry from earlier this week making a reappearance.

When they arrive where they need to be Joker stops them, holding his arms out. He then points to a large ship that towers over them.

“That’s the one. If Ozzie is there then your job is done,” he says.

Dick squints at him. “Are you trying to jinx us?”

Joker scoffs. “Believe me, if I wanted you to fail you wouldn’t be here right now. I’m rooting for you guys.” He wraps an arm around Bruce, the latter jolting away. Joker just grins.

Dick looks at them oddly. “Right. I’ll just scope around the other side, see if I can find a different way in. Divide and conquer, right?” Bruce inclines his head in agreement.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” Dick runs off, Bruce following him with his eyes until he disappears. He turns to Joker after, crossing his arms. Joker raises his hands defensively.

“I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary you know. You’re the one who gets flustered. It’s a wonder you can keep any secrets.” He pouts. “Maybe you should just tell Grayson.”

Bruce sighs. Joker’s right, but there are more important things to take care of. “I will. After the gala. We need to finish this though, come on.” He sneaks on board, scanning the ship. Oracle hasn’t said anything yet, but he knows it’s just a matter of time. She’s usually on top of this.

Once on the ship they split up, Joker taking on half the men on the ship with ease, if not discretion. But at least the distraction helps Bruce take out his half. He joins Joker at the door, the man wiping blood off his mouth, sticking his tongue out at the flavor.

“These guys aren’t pulling their punches. Kiss it better?” he suggests, waggling his eyebrows.

Bruce rolls his eyes, turning to open the door and enter the ship. This is going to be a thing now, isn’t it. He should’ve expected it. “Later, maybe.” Joker closes the door after him quietly, Bruce just making out the words he murmurs.

“I can live with that.”

*

“How’s it going, Grayson?”

It’s Jason. Dick makes sure no one is around before replying. “It’s all going good. How’s it looking on your end?”

“It’s quiet. If this is where they plan on blowing up the wealthy then they aren’t very prepared. I assume that’s Batman’s doing.”

“Yeah. Hey, I gotta go, I’m on Penguin’s ship.” He hears footsteps coming towards him and hides behind a container, knocking them out the moment they step close enough.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell us if you need help.”

“Sure thing.” Dick shivers as he opens the door, the cold rushing out. Has Cobblepot never heard of heating? Just because your persona is Antarctic doesn’t mean you have to live at negative temperatures. Gotham isn’t even that cold yet either, why is there ice on this ship? Taking the cosplay way too far, Penguin.

The ship itself is huge, more than enough for one man. And henchmen. Dick barrels his way through at least ten just on the first deck, going down through a dark hall. Penguin is most likely in the center of the ship, if at all.

He sneaks through the ballroom, used now as more of a storage area, crates piled haphazardly on the once polished floor. He imagines the rest of the ship looks the same way. The ship creaks as it bobs on the water, Dick wondering just how old it is. Oswald Cobblepot isn’t known for buying things second hand, but it’s worn down. Not suited for a life of crime.

Bruce joins up with him further down, Joker still with him. Since Tim had mentioned the clown acting different Dick’s been studying him. He thinks Tim may have been right. Joker just leans against the wall like it pains him to stand upright, waiting for the next step. His eyes still have a dangerous flicker to them, but Dick isn’t so sure it’s aimed at him anymore.

“Have you found anything?” Bruce asks him. Dick shakes his head.

“No. He’s probably in the lowest part of the ship. It’s been a breeze so far, which worries me.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Bruce opens the door to the left of the trio, a door that Dick guesses is the boiler. He steps through, not waiting to see if the others follow.

It’s all grey. Cold metal everywhere, not a soul to be seen. Dick tries a different door and finds it locked, going instead through the grate on top. Bruce and Joker come after, and the three find themselves in a small room, another door at the end labeled Office.

“He’s in there?” Joker whispers. “Seems a little drab.”

Bruce does a quick scan. “He’s in there all right. The only thing is I know he wouldn’t just be here alone.” He looks somber, Dick not liking the expression but used to it by now.

“Should we just open the door?”

“You find a back way,” Bruce says. “I’ll go through the door...as a distraction if need be.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard if it’s just Penguin. I’ll wait out here,” Joker says. He slides down the wall, sitting cross legged on the scuffed up carpet. He closes his eyes in something that almost looks like meditation. Dick stares, the man before him more of a puzzle than ever, but he shakes it off. A look at Bruce proves it’s nothing the older man hasn’t seen before.

Dick sighs. “I guess I’ll go now, should be a grate or something right? I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” He exits the tiny outer room, back in the boiler. As it happens, there is an air conditioning system that spans out to the whole ship. And it’s just big enough for Dick to crawl through, frowning at all the dust and trying not to cough.

Penguin’s voice can be heard from somewhere underneath him, and he finds an opening in the corner of the room, where he can see the stout villain on the phone.

“They’ll never know what hit ‘em. This plan is foolproof... Yeah, I got the stuff, that blasted bat took a lot, but we should still have enough...no, it’s not here. You think I’d trust in these idiots enough to keep it safe. Don’t worry, I have it somewhere they won’t find till it’s too late.” Dick listens intently, a spike of worry travelling through him.

If the rest of the supplies he has aren’t here then we’re just wasting time!

He comms Bruce, murmuring “Ready.”

Bruce slams into the door to open it, Penguin jumping up in outrage. This was what Dick always enjoyed, Bruce making an entrance to unsettle the bad guys. Make a scene and people are either so scared or distracted that they won’t know what hit them. He opens the grate quietly and drops down behind Cobblepot.

The villain is obviously angry, but he’s smirking through his cigar all the same. “You think you’re so smart coming here?”

“Where are you keeping your cargo?” Bruce demands, closing in on Penguin’s desk.

“What cargo?” He puffs smoke into Bruce’s face, but his nose barely wrinkles in disgust. He grabs Oswald by the collar. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you where it is. After this!” He whacks Bruce in the head with the butt of his umbrella, having a heavy swing for such a portly man. Bruce drops Oswald, Dick wrapping his arm around his neck so he can’t move. The man squawks in indignation and surprise.

“Where is it?” Bruce says, glaring.

“It’s too late, you’ll never find it!” Dick tightens his grip on Oswald. “I won’t tell you, you can threaten me all you like! You think I’d just give it up...after all this...? Do you actually think...I wasn’t using everyone as distractions?” His breath comes in short gasps. Bruce nods at Dick, who drops him.

“You’re done here, Oswald.” He ties the man up, Penguin barking curses at him.

“You won’t make it, you’re too late!” Bruce growls, slamming him into the wall. Penguin growls, shaking his head in pain. Dick takes him from Bruce, glancing up at him.

“They’re not at the observatory, Robin and Red Hood would’ve found it by now.”

“I know.” Bruce snarls, punching at the wall. Dick starts, not used to this side of Bruce.

“You know we’ll figure it out, we always do.”

Bruce shakes his head. “I knew something was wrong, but I kept trying to push the feeling away. Bane had a plan, his chemicals, but it fell through. Then with Crane and his toxin, but we took care of it. Maybe... they haven’t been working together at all. Maybe we’ve been on a wild goose chase, and for what?” Dick scrutinises the man.

“Maybe this time you shouldn’t trust your gut. If you think you’re gonna fail what’s the point in trying?” Bruce glances at him. “This isn’t about Joker is it?”

Bruce shakes his head almost vehemently. “No. This is entirely different. I’m just...”

Dick’s seen Bruce go through this before. Though he can be a drama queen at times, he does also get weighed down by the job at times, loathe as he is to admit it. He places a hand on Bruce. “You’re tired. I get it, you can’t always put up a front. Trust me, I’ll be taking a break after this, and so should you. But Batman is bigger than this. And you’re going to have to put aside any uncertainties.”

Bruce stays silent for a long time before he nods. “You’re right. We can do this. We have time. But we won’t get anything done standing around.” He looks at the door, expression resolute.

Dick’s comm goes off before either can move. “Dick?”

“What’s up, Babs?”

“There’s a lot of activity over by the Asylum, might want to take care of that. Tell Bruce.”

“Yeah.” Bruce looks at him questioningly.

“Something’s come up at the asylum. Can anything else go wrong?” He sighs.

Bruce scowls, hand on the doorknob. “We’d better get over there then.” He opens the door.

Dick carries Penguin, who drifts in and out of a daze as they exit the room. Joker’s standing when they get to him.

“Nothing?”

“Just him,” Dick says, gesturing at Penguin. The clown grins, coming over and bending down to look at Penguin. The villain blearily looks at Joker, brow deeply furrowed and a scowl prominent.

“You finally caught him. One less thing to worry about, right?” He taps at Penguin’s head. “Shame he lost his hat though, I wanted a souvenir. What now?”

“I need to find the rest of the supplies, they spread everything around, most were just diversions. Now there’s something going on at Arkham,” Bruce explains, a tinge of anger in his voice.

Joker tilts his head to the side. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

Bruce clenches his hands into fists. “What else? We’re going to stop this and figure out what’s really going on.”

The water below looks black, running lazily to the end of the tunnels providing a barrier that Bruce has to sling a line across. He holds out his arm to Joker, he’s sure the line is sturdy enough to hold their weight. The clown clings to him, Bruce wrapping his arm around to make sure he doesn’t fall off. They make their way across, Joker giggling quietly as they speed over the water.

“You really do have everything in that belt of yours, don’t you?”

“Almost,” Bruce says, seeing a door in the distance. There’s movement he can see through the window, and he ducks down, moving quietly and signaling for Joker to get down.

The door is unlocked, the infrared showing two figures, one close to the door. Bruce swings open the door, there’s no other way to get around it, and grabs the man closest. Sionis. Joker aims a gun at Crane, who snarls in anger. He grins, taking in the scene.

“I feel like James Bond!” He lowers his voice into something smoother but no less him. “I know the rules, and number one is ‘no deals’.” He winks at Crane, tilting his gun this way and that. Crane sneers.

“I knew I should have just killed you when I had the chance,” he hisses at Bruce. “But you?” He narrows his eyes at Joker. “You always have to meddle, don’t you? You’re a half-baked villain.”

Joker laughs. “Well, I don’t know about that. It’s all about perspective. See, I’m not interested in team ups, but the sooner you’re all out of the way the sooner Gotham is mine. I’m not in the habit of sharing.” Crane lunges forward, Joker training his gun on him more firmly. “Any closer and I’ll shoot you, Jonny.”

“You’re all crazy,” Sionis spits out, trying to pull away from Bruce. Bruce tightens his grip. “Let me go! I haven’t even done anything!”

“Right.” Bruce ties him up, hearing the heavy thudding of boots coming towards them. He glances at Joker. “Don’t kill any of them.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Bats?” Joker complains. He levels the gun at the door anyways, Bruce heading to Crane’s side, the villain backing into a corner.

“Didn’t get enough of the toxin earlier?” He taunts, holding his hands out threateningly. Bruce closes his hand around Crane’s needles, bending back the metal and snapping it, toxin dripping to the floor. Crane uses his other hand to hit at Bruce, kicking and punching to try to get the larger man to let him go. Bruce punches him, knocking Crane against the wall so that the breath gets knocked out of the man’s lungs, pinning his hands and making sure he can’t get away. A gunshot rings out near him and he whips his head around to look at Joker, then at the man on the ground behind him.

“I didn’t shoot him anywhere lethal...I don’t think,” Joker says, kicking at a thug getting too close. “Are we gonna take them with us?” He points to Crane and Sionis. Bruce nods, standing to help Joker fight off the rest of the men. There are twenty surrounding them, most armed with blunt weapons. Bruce pulls Joker to him, the clown looking at him in confusion.

“Cover your ears,” Bruce warns Joker. The latter claps his hand over his ears, the men drawing nearer. Bruce waits till they step just a little closer...and then…

That same piercing shriek from when he was with Tim fills the room, the men collapsing, howling in pain, some knocked out. Joker’s eyes are shut tightly as he leans against Bruce to steady himself.

“Goddamn. That was something, Bats, I gotta say. My ears are ringing like crazy.” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head back and forth. Bruce makes sure he can stand alone before going back to Crane, who lies in a fetal position, hands still pressed to ears. When Bruce lifts him from the ground he tries to claw at him, Bruce binding his hands before he can do any damage.

“You think just because you’ve got us our plan will fail?” Crane says as Bruce lifts him up onto his shoulder. Bruce ignores him, Joker dragging Sionis behind him carelessly.

“We should just dump them in the sewer,” Joker suggests.

“I’m taking them to the GCPD.” Bruce says matter of factly.

Joker frowns. Sionis still struggles, and he slams the man’s face into the ground, knocking him unconscious. “Alright...let’s just get out of here. Can you lead? My head’s still spinning.” He giggles, pressing a hand to his head.

Bruce doesn’t waste time in getting them out of the room.

*

Dick is the first to approach them, Jason sitting on the crate containing the toxin. Tim talks quietly but animatedly to him, the older vigilante listening closely. It almost seems like a casual outing, despite the fact they’re toting around Arkham escapees.

“You’re alright?”

“I’m alright,” Bruce confirms. He sees the batwing behind him. “You got through on the comms?”

“Yeah. I’m going to Barbara’s after this, you know it’s almost 3:30? Is there anything else you can do tonight?”

“I might go to the docks, we’re running out of time and there’s barely any time to breathe,” Bruce says. “Tim.”

The man looks up from where he stands. “What’s up?” Bruce walks over to him, handing Crane over to Dick, who puts him into the batwing.

“I don’t want you to come with anymore tonight. Maybe tomorrow, but for right now I just need to get this done.”

Tim gives a short nod. “I’ll go with Dick to Barbara’s house.” He looks over at Joker, who’s dropped Sionis and stalked over closer to the water, looking out over the waves. “What about him? Bruce, why is he helping you? He’s never done anything just because, he’s probably just doing it to get what he wants, in the end. Doesn’t he seem different to you?”

“I…” He hesitates. “He offered, but…” Bruce feels cold. Everything that’s happened and suddenly he remembers Monday. I won’t do this for free. How did he forget that? He remembers he and Joker made a deal, and now he’s rethinking everything. Every meet-up, every conversation. He’s seen Joker in action, doing anything to put people off-guard so that they’d be helpless to stop him the minute he decided to act. How much of their interaction was real?

He nears Joker, who looks down at the tide coming in and receding, hands in his pockets. He leans back when he hears footsteps, smiling at Bruce, whose stomach twists.

“Finally some fresh air. Although to be fair, even drinking in chemicals again would have been better than those tunnels.” He wrinkles his nose. When Bruce doesn't respond his brow furrows. “What?”

“...Have you been playing me this entire time?” Bruce’s throat feels dry, he didn't want to word it like that, but it's out.

“What are you on about? Is this still about earlier? I seem to recall you enjoying that dance, dear,” he retorts, his smile growing sardonic.

Bruce glares. “This is about that favor you wanted. You're just trying to distract me.”

Joker’s eyes widen just the slightest bit, though he regains his neutral expression right after. “Paranoid much? I'd already forgotten about that.” He smirks. “But you did promise, so why are you mad about that at all?” He waves a hand around flippantly, but it does nothing to console Bruce. That's the thing. Joker never forgets. Anything. Bruce grabs at his shoulders, making the clown face him.

“Let go of me, Bruce,” Joker warns, voice deadly soft. “I haven't done anything against you. Like I said.”

Bruce shakes his head. “How can I believe you? I heard what you said to Crane, waiting until they’re locked up so you can take control.”

Joker huffs out a small breath. “Bats. Batsy. Don’t you know me by now? Eighty percent of what I say is a bluff. Now, it is a nice thought, I’m not gonna deny that, but I’m not gonna do anything anytime soon. All this hero stuff? I’m gonna need a vacation just to recuperate. I don’t feel very villainous right now.” He eyes Bruce, daring him to figure out what was truth. Bruce stares down at the grainy sand, boots sinking and making dark prints on the ground. He feels Joker’s gaze on him, knows he’s waiting on a response. Bruce has a million reasons not to trust him. But he knows that this time Joker’s being honest, even if it is in his roundabout way.

“I’d say only forty percent is a bluff,” he finally says, meeting Joker’s eyes. Joker laughs, stepping closer to Bruce so that there are only inches between them. “The kids are here,” Bruce murmurs, flicking his eyes over to the entrance to the sewer.

Joker rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna do anything. Are you gonna expect a kiss whenever I’m close to you from now on?”

“No.” Bruce says, averting his eyes. It’s only a half-truth, Bruce has no idea what goes on in Joker’s mind. Joker tilts his head, like he can read Bruce’s mind exactly, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Good. It takes two to tango, Bats. A little bit of trust. Remember that. When I call in that favor, you’ll know, I promise. But right now? We’ve got work to do, don’t we?”

Bruce hums in agreement, looking over at Jason, who stares right at him. Joker follows Bruce’s gaze.

“You gonna tell him you’re in love?” Joker asks lightly. Bruce levels him with a stare. “Okay, so maybe not. It’s all the same to me whether you take your secret to the grave or not. I've got a few skeletons in the closet myself, and besides, this is more of a challenge for me.” He grins. Bruce lowers his eyes.

“Jason would despise me,” he murmurs.

Joker nods. “Probably. But you know,” he leans on Bruce like he would a wall, “I think you’re pretty good at swaying people to your side.”

Bruce glances at Joker, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes. He smiles, and while Joker returns it he shifts into a more uncertain expression, one Bruce barely catches before it disappears again. He looks at the man questioningly, but Joker just shakes his head and gestures to Jason, who waits with his arms crossed. It’s about time they talked.

Only Jason and Bruce are left, Dick and Tim gone to drop off Sionis and Crane at the GCPD, then heading to the Gordons’ apartment. Joker tells Bruce he’ll see him later, his mind visibly on something else. Bruce knows he won’t get to the docks on time anymore, the sky is gradually getting lighter. And he promised Jason they’d talk.

“What are we doing here, Bruce?” Jason has his hands in fists, standing with his shoulders hunched against the wind. He’s taken his mask off, his hair almost flattened to his head. “I was only here to help out Tim. He seems like a good kid, by the way. Try not to ruin him.”

Bruce sighs through his nose. “Jason, I told you I was sorry about what happened. I regret it, and if I could go back in time I know I would change it, but-”

“But what? You should’ve just killed Joker when you had the chance. You’ve had plenty. You didn’t even let me kill him. And now you’re working with him like you’ve been friends your whole lives!” Words can’t describe the fire in Jason’s voice, his anger like a tidal wave, buffeting Bruce in guilt.

“You don’t understand. I need his help for this.”

“You have Tim and Dick. Hell, you even have Gordon. You could’ve had me, but I can’t help you when the Joker’s apparently your right hand man. What are you doing?” Jason barks, pushing Bruce back.

Fuck. He understands completely, what he’s doing shouldn’t sit right with anyone, siding with a villain that has messed with those closest over and over again. There’s no reason except for Bruce’s agreement at the beginning of the week, and what it’s snowballed into. Jason would hate him more if Bruce told him how Joker feels about him, and the complications Bruce is feeling himself. So he can’t say anything. Jason waits, face set in a frown, a storm in his eyes.

Bruce lowers his head, voice low. “I know you won’t forgive me, but I won’t kill him. You wouldn’t understand, and I’m not asking you to.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Bruce, there’s nothing to understand. You’re working with the man who almost killed me, remember?”

Bruce closes his eyes. “I know. That’s why I didn’t want to ask for your help.” He opens his eyes to see Jason slumped forward, eyes empty.

“Don’t I mean anything to you?” His words come out flat, piercing Bruce’s heart.

“Jason…” Jason looks up, eyes defiant.

“Tell me why. Why are you still siding with him? After everything.”

Bruce opens his mouth. Words die on his tongue, and he realises Jason would hate him for the real reason. He doesn’t want to lie to him, but the truth wouldn’t fix anything.

It doesn’t matter. The look in Jason’s eyes is enough. His laugh is hollow, and he rubs a hand over his face. “I can’t believe you. He’s evil, and you’re letting him stay close to you.” Bruce lays a hand on his shoulder, Jason brushing him off roughly.

“Jason, I just need him to help us. That’s it. After that...” Bruce's voice is as earnest as he can make it, imploring Jason to see it his way. Jason’s gaze is piercing, though he stops trying to pull away.

Bruce almost thinks he won’t listen, that he’ll just keep walking, when he says, “If I help you, I don’t want him anywhere near me. I don’t know why you feel the need to keep him around, but if you can promise that I’ll… I’ll help. For Gotham.”

Bruce smiles wearily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Bruce,” Jason says, voice gruff. “The city isn’t saved yet. And after this I’ll definitely be taking a break, from you and this city.” He puts his mask back on his face. “Get some sleep, you look awful.” He takes off, leaving Bruce alone to heave a huge sigh of relief. Checking his watch, he realises it’s already closer to four. The batwing should be in the Batcave by now, but he asks Alfred to send it back. It’s time to go home.

*

Bruce wakes up earlier than usual in the morning. Thursday. Only today and maybe tomorrow really to save Gotham. He hopes nothing happens Friday, but he knows it’s a slim chance. Today is the day just he’ll have to try his hardest for the least amount of damage tomorrow. He’s still sore from last night, or five hours ago, but it’s nothing a little movement can’t fix.

The morning air is chilly as he rushes to put on his robe, shivering, his feet slipping into soft slippers. A tray sits on his bedstand, a newspaper laid out on top. It’s strange, Alfred has dropped the habit of giving Bruce the daily paper, but Bruce understands why it’s there the moment he picks it up. Right on the front page:

Is Gotham’s Most Eligible Taken?

Bruce's heart stutters as he takes in the page. Underneath that headline is a picture of Bruce at the new restaurant, smiling at Joker as they dance. Bruce’s stomach twists, and he sits back on his bed, running a hand through his hair. His eyes are glued to the page, dancing over each detail, every line of the article.

“Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s most eligible bachelor to date, was found yesterday dancing with another man. Both seemed close, sharing more than a few dances at the Gatz, a new restaurant in the Diamond District. While no one knows if this is a permanent affair or a fling, it might put to rest any excuses of why the billionaire remains unmarried. Though the news broke the hearts of many under Wayne’s charm, we just wish we knew who this mystery man actually is, and why he’s caught Wayne’s attention.”

Bruce smirks, though he still feels slightly unnerved. No way they’d wish they knew who the man was, they’d be setting fire to Wayne Tower the moment they found out. He flops onto his bed with that thought.

It’s all the same to me whether you take your secret to the grave or not. Well now, he’s been outed as Bruce Wayne, that’s for sure. He knows if he were to show Joker he’d laugh in that obnoxious but somehow charming way of his. It makes him wonder if anyone besides him and Alfred have seen the news.

Oh, gods. Alfred. He can’t not know who the man in the picture is, who the hell else would dance with him like that? Suddenly he wants to just stay in his room. For a couple years.

When it’s clear that the day will go on no matter what he wants, he gets up from his bed, leaving his room and taking that long walk into the kitchen. Alfred leans against the counter drinking tea, eyes shifting towards Bruce as he walks in.

“Good morning, Master Bruce. I didn’t realise you’d be up so early.”

“Morning, Alfred.” Bruce sits down at the table. Alfred sets his cup down, pulling a pan out of a cabinet, taking out various ingredients for breakfast.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright. The boys came in after you, Master Dick had a smile on his face that could give the Joker a run for his money.” Bruce finds a sudden interest with the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm.

“Really?”

“Something about Miss Gordon, I assume. I do hope they're a couple again. It'd be wonderful. Speaking of which, you never told me how that new restaurant was. Was the food good?”

“The food was great. The atmosphere was a little loud though.” Bruce takes a drink from his coffee mug. For a minute the sound of the stove turning on and crackling fills the room, Bruce steeling his nerves.

“See anybody you knew?”

Bruce’s mug hits the table a little harder than necessary. Way to go, Alfred. Straight to the point. Alfred’s expression is neutral, but his eyes are unreadable. “...I saw Harley Quinn, and Ivy...and Joker.”

“You two made front page.” Alfred says casually. Bruce wraps his hands around his mug, taking slight comfort in its warmth. “You were smiling.”

“Well-” Bruce coughs, thinking up an excuse. Alfred frowns slightly.

“You don’t have to lie to me, sir. I won’t be the one to judge you. You of all people should know that.”

Those words alone make Bruce flinch, the tips of his ears burning. “You should be furious,” Bruce says, staring down at his drink.

Alfred steps away from the counter, coming to place a hand on Bruce’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m just concerned. You know what he’s done, know what kind of person he is. But you’ve always seen something in him that we haven’t. As long as you know what you’re doing.”

Bruce shakes his head. “That’s the thing. I have no idea what I’m doing. None of this should even have happened. I was just...”

Alfred sighs. “Do you love him?”

There's that word again. Bruce rakes a hand through his hair. “I don't know. It's a little too soon for that.”

“You've been after each other for almost twenty years,” Alfred states dryly. Bruce looks up at him.

“You make it sound easy.”

At this statement Alfred shakes his head, mouth downturned. “None of this is easy, Bruce, but whatever you decide I'll be there for you.” Bruce knows Alfred enough by now to believe that, but he also feels like he’s let him down. “Are you going to tell the boys?”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, guys? I'm sort of dating our greatest villain ever, hope that's alright with you.”

Alfred tries not to flinch, he really does, but Bruce notices him stiffen the slightest bit. A twinge of guilt hits him.

Alfred composes himself, making himself busy. “Maybe you should take it slower then. Tell them after this ordeal is over. Things could change.” He turns to the stove, flipping over what Bruce guesses is an omelet. He could do with some protein. Or something for an energy boost in general.

He presses the heel of his palm to his head, warding off a slight headache. “I doubt it, but I'll wait. They need to focus too, especially Dick.”

“What are you guys talking about me for?” Dick stumbles in lazily. He falls into the chair next to Bruce with an enormous yawn.

“Why are you awake?” Bruce asks, noting the bags under Dick’s eyes.

“Couldn't sleep. Gonna go see Babs.” His mouth forms a toothy grin. “We got back together.”

Alfred sighs again. “I owe Master Tim twenty dollars.”

“Wha- you guys bet on whether or not we’d get together again?” Dick raises his eyebrows.

Alfred tilts his head. “I was rooting for you, but I realise you can be a bit...obtuse.” He places the omelet on Bruce’s plate, starting to mix up the ingredients for another. Dick pouts.

“He’s right, but don’t worry.” Bruce starts cutting at his food. “Apparently I’m the same way.”

“You are,” Alfred’s back is turned, but Bruce can hear his quiet affirmation. He meets Dick’s eyes, shrugging with a smile.

“Are you going to see her today?” He makes conversation while the other man waits for his food.

Dick nods. “She wants me to come over.”

“She needs you to look over another machine?” Bruce asks meaningfully. He smirks at Dick’s flustered expression, all the tension he felt earlier dissipating.

And then Alfred has the to be bearer of bad news, lowering his voice so that only Bruce can hear. “I’m sorry, sir, but you have drawn quite a bit of attention to yourself and I’ve gotten many calls from reporters.” A small imaginary raincloud floats over Bruce’s head, ruining his momentary good mood. Give him a team of criminals over the press any day.

“I’ll take care of it.” Meaning he’ll be spending the next few hours dispelling rumours and making vague statements that could mean anything, depending on who’s listening. Oh boy.

*

It's kind of ridiculous really. Why are villains always starting things at night? It's like they wait just for Batman to show up before they declare war. Joker thinks on this as he lounges on his couch, Harley letting him into Ace chemicals with an earful. She lost, in the end. Ace is his base, even while temporarily occupied by Harley and Penguin’s men. They glare at him, but it's all they can do. No one would dare cross him.

“Harls, I think I've gone soft,” he says, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Harley hums, helping Ivy place different plants around the area. Awful things. Joker plans on burning them to crisps when this is all over.

“Why's that, puddin’?”

Joker frowns thoughtfully. “I just don't think this break from villainy is doing me any good. It's fantastic getting to antagonize Ozzy and the gang, but I haven't really destroyed anything. It's weird.”

Harley sets a flower pot down and rests her hands on her hips. “Does this have to do with Batman?”

“Hmm...maybe.”

“Well, is it a bad kind of weird?” Harley's going into psychiatrist mode, Joker can tell. He’ll play along, it's been awhile since he's seen this side of her.

“Not the worst kind of weird. I just don't know what I'm doing. I'm helping Bats, and it's fun, but at the same time I feel like I'm playing second fiddle. It's not my plan at all.”

“Ooh, character development!” Harley sits next to him, ignoring his glare. “Realising not everything is in your control?”

Joker scoffs. “I'm still in control, Harley.”

“I don't know. You're helping out, not masterminding. And for a hero, of all people.” She raises an eyebrow, waiting for Joker’s response. He’s trying to piece together the words to say, thinking carefully on his answer.

Ivy overhears, sitting next to Harley. “Speaking from experience, Batman is still going to lock you up at the end. Even if you help him. Might as well start something before Friday.”

Joker sits up, giving Ivy the evil eye. “This is different. He’s not using me. It's not one-sided anymore.”

Harley claps her hands over her mouth. “You mean... He's in love with you?”

Joker smiles slightly. “I wouldn't go that far. Not yet. But he's different, not as cold around me. Actually, he's kind of into it.” He laughs, remembering the way Bruce almost expected Joker to kiss him last night. “I guess he just needed a nudge in the right direction.” He sighs. “But maybe that's one of the problems now.” If he's busy helping Bruce, of course he's going to appreciate it, he's always wanted Joker on his side. But what happens when he decides to blow up a building, or take over Arkham? The line he's walking is thinner than ever, and Joker doesn't know which side he’ll end up tipping over. There's going to be a point where he won't be able to turn back, won't want to turn back.

Harley wraps her arms around him. “You'll be okay. You've gotta see him again tonight?” Joker nods. “Figure stuff out. I know you're crazy for him but don't let that stop you from bein’ yourself.” Joker nudges the woman away and onto Ivy, though he smiles crookedly.

“Now don't get all mushy on me, doc. I'm still a dangerous criminal.” Which gets the wheels in his head spinning. He taps his fingers against his lips, thinking. Harley tilts her head.

“Getting an idea?”

“Just maybe…” Joker grins. “Where are the papers and pencils?” Harley jumps up to get them from a nearby table. Once she passes them to him he takes to writing, spidery letters filling the page.

“Is B-man coming here to stop us?” Harley asks, twisting her hair around her finger.

“That would spoil the secret now, wouldn’t it?” Joker doesn’t look up from his paper. “You haven’t put up enough defenses, you know.”

“I’ll be able to stop him. That’s why all the plants are here,” Ivy says from the couch.

Joker huffs out a laugh. “Hasn’t stopped him before.” He sneers at Ivy, he’s never been too fond of the mostly reserved woman, more occupied with plants than what’s around her. An extreme environmentalist. He can’t count how many times she’s tried to kill him for blowing up plants in the way of his plans. A tree blocking the view? Gone. Shrubs not letting him escape quick enough? Decimated. He’ll admit, it was on purpose sometimes, but still. Just because she’s with Harley, he’ll put up with her. “Tell you what. I’m feeling just a little bored, so I’ll set some stuff up for you. Nothing too complicated, but it’ll slow him down.”

Harley cocks her head. “I thought you were supposed to be helping him.”

“I am. I’m just trying to get some fun out of it too. I can’t have him thinking I’ve converted to heroism.” Besides, he’ll get a kick out of it. I did tell him I was a wild card.