Chapter Text
The air is heavy with smoke, and the smell of cheap cigarettes and alcohol cling to every surface of the small bar, ingrained to the worn wood as deeply as the dark stains on the floor that everybody pretends isn’t blood.
The alleged smuggler Bruce had been hoping to lay eyes on never showed up, and Bruce is ready to go home as soon as he finishes his drink. His investigation has hit another dead end and glum doesn’t begin to describe his mood. He keeps his eyes cast to the cheap whiskey in his tumbler and listens to the chatter around him mixing with the quiet music playing on the old stereo. It’s welcoming to anyone who fits in the crowd, but Bruce doesn’t belong there; he sticks out even though he’s dressed in his most inconspicuous clothes and he’s doing everything he can to not draw attention to himself as he sits in the far end of the bar counter, twirling his tumbler slowly as he thinks.
It would’ve been better if Dick had come with him, but he had his own problems to worry about, and Bruce hadn’t wanted to push — hadn’t wanted to drag Dick from Bludhaven when he’s busy with the life he’s building there.
Bruce is so focused on staring at his drink he doesn’t notice Joker’s arrival until he’s right next to Bruce, leaning on the counter and ordering a mojito, and thanking Bruce for paying for it. He’s grinning like a tiger that just spotted its next prey and Bruce almost stands out of sheer surprise of seeing him there. Alfred would be proud of Bruce’s self control as he reminds himself that Bruce Wayne, billionaire and a philanthropist, can't smash the face of the reigning ruler of Gotham's underworld against the sticky surface of the counter, no matter how much he wants to do just that.
So Bruce plays the part of an ordinary citizen and hands the bartender more money even as his heart hammers in his chest and he tenses, ready to fight if he needs to. But Joker just gives Bruce his most charming smile and tilts his head to get a better look at his face.
"So what drove Bruce Wayne of all people to a place like this, hm?" Joker leans into Bruce's personal space just enough to be in it, but not enough that Bruce can justify backing away. Bruce grinds his teeth together and scans the dim room for an escape. He didn't prepare for this and he doesn't know what Joker wants. It's a verbal minefield that has a high chance of blowing up in his face and causing real, physical damage.
And Joker is still giving him that saccharine smile of his.
"I wanted to get a drink without someone taking my picture." Bruce raises his tumbler and tries to smile, but it feels so forced it has to show on his face, so he drops it.
"Well in that case you've come to the right place. They take all nosy journalists to the back and give them a crash course in baseball," Joker says as he studies Bruce with calculating eyes.
Bruce downs his drink as fast as he can without appearing like he's in a hurry. "I should be going. Got an important meeting in the morning and I don't want to be tired for it." He gives Joker one last forced smile as he stands up and sets his tumbler on the counter.
Joker moves fast; his knife digs into the wood between Bruce’s fingers before Bruce fully comprehends what is happening. The cool blade grazes against his skin and leaves a burning trail in its wake, but somehow Bruce keeps himself from grabbing Joker’s throat and choking him into unconsciousness.
The imitation of kindness Joker had shown just seconds earlier has been replaced with a grin that’s all teeth and malice, and Bruce barely has the time to think there's the real him before the sweet smile slips back on his face as he laughs softly.
"Have a drink with me first." Despite the pleasant look on Joker’s face, his voice makes it clear Bruce doesn't have a choice; he’s got Bruce trapped and they both know it, and he’s enjoying every second of Bruce’s struggle against the fear threatening to gain foothold in his mind.
"A drink," Bruce repeats. "Okay. I can do that." He counts to ten as he breathes until his heart stops hammering against his rib cage. Joker eyes him for a second longer before pulling the knife off the counter and finally leaning out of Bruce's space. He throws the white straw in his drink away while Bruce glances at his hand to see if he’s bleeding. To his relief, he got away with just a scare this time.
"So get a drink and sit down. And relax, will ya? You’re making me anxious." Joker shakes his head and looks at Bruce like he’s being ridiculous — like he’s imagining the danger Joker poses to him. Still, Bruce does as he's told and sits on the rickety bar stool, and orders another shot of whiskey while he steals a glance at the clock on his phone, wondering how he could alert Alfred to his situation. Joker huffs and hops on the stool next to Bruce’s.
The bartender gives Bruce a sympathetic look as he offers him his new drink, and Bruce nods at him as he walks away.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Joker smiles, his voice a bit too sweet to be nice. "Now tell me something about yourself," he continues and sips his mojito like he hadn’t just pulled a knife on Bruce. Worst of all he seems genuinely curious. Bruce wants to run as far away from him as he can.
"I'd bore you," Bruce tries, and does his best to come across as sheepish.
Keeping his gaze fixed on Bruce, Joker takes another sip of his drink, leaving lipstick stains on the glass. Bruce wonders a little hysterically if Joker fixed his makeup just for him. "No. I want to get to know you. That's the whole point of having a drink with a stranger, isn't it?" Joker frowns and drums his nails on the counter in a slow, steady rhythm. The dark green nail polish on them has a few cracks, but at least there doesn’t seem to be any blood under his nails.
Bruce raises his hands and hunches his shoulders as he leans away from Joker. "I'm really not that interesting, but, um, I don't know." Bruce bites his lip and goes through all his opinions for an answer that will make Joker happy. "I backpacked through Europe once." It's not even a lie, he's just leaving out some details. Joker’s fingers still and some of the tension leaves Bruce’s body.
"That's interesting." Joker leans closer to Bruce and sucks on his lower lip for a second before letting it go with a pop, leaving the red lipstick glistening with spit. It doesn’t smudge like Bruce wants it to.
"It wasn't really that special. People make it sound more fun than it actually is." Bruce takes a sip of his whiskey. "What about you?" he adds before Joker presses him for details.
"I'm an open book." Joker sips his drink. "Why? Is there something you wanna know?" It’s a dare and Bruce knows rising to it is dangerous, but he's never been all that concerned with his well-being anyways. Besides, he’s never had the chance to talk with Joker out of his batsuit, and the alcohol slowly clouding his mind makes it easier for him to let his curiosity take hold.
"Why are you talking to me?" Bruce asks, going for an easy start.
"Having a drink with a cute stranger in a seedy underground bar is on my to-do list," Joker answers without hesitation. Bruce raises an eyebrow, which prompts Joker to roll his eyes. "I have a to-do list. One point is singing See You Later Alligator to Croc without getting mauled to death, but I'm still working on that. So drinks with you it was."
"Glad I could help," Bruce mutters into his tumbler. Joker either doesn't hear him or he just doesn't care that Bruce would rather be anywhere but there.
"Please don’t tell me you don’t have a to-do list!” Joker stares at Bruce in exaggerated surprise, and it makes Bruce crack his first real—if brief—smile since Joker decided to take over his evening.
"I don't have a to-do list," Bruce admits. Technically he's not even lying; Alfred keeps a list of things Bruce Wayne needs to do, and Bruce keeps a list of things Batman needs to address, but for the sake of safety he is going to treat Batman as a completely separate being who has absolutely nothing to do with him for the time being.
"How do you live your life?" Joker asks like Bruce's lack of to-do list is offending him on some deep personal level. He even presses a hand to his heart for dramatic effect.
"I manage." Bruce straightens his shoulders and turns to Joker. He can do this. He can talk to Joker without someone ending up bleeding or in a hospital.
"Of course you do. You don't know any better." Joker sighs and pats Bruce's shoulder as if some great tragedy has befallen him, and to his credit Bruce doesn't flinch. It's strange having Joker touch him without any malice or violence behind the act, and when Joker pulls his hand away it leaves Bruce’s skin hot and tingling with the loss of contact. Bruce looks down into his drink and pretends it had no effect on him — that some dark, small twisted part of him doesn’t miss the touch.
"We're getting a table," Joker declares without a warning. He leans over the counter to tell the bartender to get them another round of drinks while Bruce processes his words.
Before Bruce manages that, Joker yanks him by the arm, almost tripping Bruce over. He barely manages to grab his new drink before Joker drags him across the bar.
It’s not surprising that the people around them throw themselves out of Joker's way, but the power Joker has is still something to marvel at. Bruce wonders if any of them work for Joker, but Joker is moving too fast for Bruce to get a good look at the people in the dim space to see if he recognizes any of them.
Joker shoves Bruce into a corner booth and pushes him until Bruce is more or less pressed against the wall with nowhere to go before sliding next to him and making a happy little noise at his new pink straw. Bruce can feel the heat radiating from Joker, and his heart beats faster as Joker’s leg brushes against his.
"Now what?" Bruce’s voice is unsure even to his own ear so there’s no way Joker misses it.
"Now we get wasted." Joker gives Bruce a quick once over. "Why? Did you have something else in mind? I should warn you, I don't kiss on the first date." He winks and laughs at Bruce’s discomfort.
"I should be going home," Bruce tries, but stops the second Joker's eyes darken. "Or not," he adds quickly to keep Joker from pulling a knife on him again, because there’s no way Bruce will go down without a fight, and he’d like to keep things as non-violent as possible. He's not sure how he would explain Bruce Wayne taking down Joker to the other people there, let alone Joker himself, or if he even could take Joker on without his armor.
He knows Joker doesn’t actively go for the kill when it comes to Batman, but he doubts he’ll do the same with Bruce Wayne.
"Smart man." Joker nudges Bruce’s shoulder with his own before focusing on his drink. Bruce lets out a relieved sigh.
"Tell me about the fundraiser a few weeks back; that sounds like an interesting story," Joker says as he plays with the pink straw in his cocktail. Bruce frowns and bites his lip as he tries to figure out what Joker is talking about, then he remembers the fundraiser both Two-Face and Scarecrow had crashed, and the argument they had in the middle of the room. Bruce chuckles before he can stop himself and Joker's attention zeroes in on him immediately.
So Bruce entertains Joker with a story, which leads to Joker doubling over in laughter. Bruce gets them another round of drinks while he calms down, and soon Joker is telling Bruce about an incident in Arkham where the inmates had started a food fight and an eyeball had been thrown at a nurse, and someone had lost an ear that was never recovered. To Bruce the most disturbing part of the story is the casual way Joker talks about Arkham and the incident, almost like some people talk about an ordinary day at the office.
Joker gets Bruce progressively more drunk, and even though Bruce protests to every other drink Joker won't hear it. On the upside Bruce ends up having something close to a good time, and though Joker has some serious issues with personal space Bruce works with it.
By the time Bruce decides it's time for him to go home no matter what Joker says, Joker is almost in Bruce's lap, laughing at some joke Bruce didn't catch. Bruce taps Joker's shoulder to make sure he’s listening. "I think we've had enough."
"Lightweight," Joker mutters against Bruce's neck and erupts into another fit of giggles. Bruce hasn't got the slightest clue what's so funny, but the sound of Joker's laughter warms something deep inside him. It's the kind of laugh Bruce doesn’t usually hear from him; there's no hint of madness or mania or cruelty in it. He sounds genuinely happy.
"I'm gonna be hungover in a meeting and when I screw up I'm blaming you." Bruce tries to glare at Joker's head, but he doesn't think his face is cooperating at the moment. Joker nods and hums, then slowly pulls himself upright.
"Okay. You go be hungover in your stupid meeting." Joker’s voice is surprisingly clear for someone who can barely sit upright. Bruce is officially impressed.
"You're paying," Joker reminds Bruce before downing the last of his remaining cocktail and scuffling to his feet.
"I already did," Bruce replies as he follows Joker's example. He has to grab a hold of Joker to keep him from falling down, and if Bruce uses him for extra support then that's his prerogative.
Joker allows Bruce to help him across the floor, though he stops at the door to wave behind them, confirming Bruce’s assumption that some of the customers are indeed Joker’s henchmen.
Joker doesn't object when Bruce starts walking him down the street towards the better neighborhoods of downtown. He sings some song off tune and tries to make his usual wide, dramatic movements, but Bruce's hold on his arm is limiting him, causing him to almost lose his balance a few times and slap Bruce more than once. Bruce allows it only because he knows if Joker was trying to hit him on purpose, it would hurt like hell and Joker would be aiming better.
"Where’re we going?" Joker asks, his voice slurring slightly at the edges. Bruce is sure if he'd let go of Joker’s arm he'd fall down.
Bruce stops and looks around, only now realizing he's been leading his greatest enemy towards his penthouse. Bruce likes having a place to stay in the city, especially for the days he's been chasing criminals all night and he has to go to his day job at the Wayne Enterprises; it gives him an hour or so of extra sleep in the morning and Bruce will take what he can get on that front.
"My place I guess?" Bruce replies. He's past the point of caring about the obvious stupidity of what he's doing, and Joker's weight leaning on him isn't unpleasant.
"And what're we gonna do at your place?" Joker does a fairly good job at sounding suggestive, but he almost falls down when he tries to match his pose to his voice. Bruce snorts, his steps faltering as he pulls Joker back against his side.
"Sleep." Bruce wraps an arm around Joker’s shoulders. "You can have the couch if you're nice." He smiles at Joker while telling himself that letting Joker walk away on his own might get Joker or someone else killed, and calling the police would definitely get Bruce killed, so he's really just picking the best opinion. Besides, Bruce can always crush a sedative to a glass of water and make Joker drink it.
"That's it? No taking advantage of my lowered inhibitions?" Joker’s disappointed pout makes Bruce chuckle.
"I’m pretty sure you don't have much inhibitions anyway," Bruce says, drawing a laugh from Joker.
"S'pose so." Joker wraps his arms around Bruce’s middle with a contented sigh as Bruce gets them walking again. "But you still coulda at least tried. I'd even let you get away with it," he continues after a minute.
"No." Bruce stumbles a little even though the cool air is slowly starting to clear his head. "Drunk sex is horrible. You feel like throwing up or you forget what you're doing and someone gets hurt or passes out and you get pissed, and 'cause you're so wasted you're lucky if you get anywhere near finishing off. And then you have to deal with a partner who's not happy," he continues without thinking. By the time his brain catches up with his mouth it's already too late and Joker is looking at him like he's the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
"I'm gonna assume you're speaking from experience," Joker says, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stifles a laugh.
"Yeah. Wasn't much fun," Bruce admits.
"And here I thought you were gonna say you're just not into guys." Joker laughs and Bruce wants to slap himself for not thinking of that. They continue their slow journey towards Bruce's home while Joker makes remarks about everything he sees. Bruce nods along and even makes a comment or two himself.
"Can we get a cab? I don't wanna walk anymore," Joker whines two blocks down the road. Bruce is more than happy to comply; his legs feel heavy and at the pace they're going they'll be lucky to make it to the penthouse before the sun rises.
Bruce drags Joker down one more block and waves down a cab, and he has a sudden realization that the driver might call the cops on Joker. He tries to decide if he should bribe the driver or forgo the ride all together, but as soon as a cab pulls over and Joker yanks the door open and greets the driver by first name, Bruce lets it go. He shouldn't be surprised; it's Joker, and if one thing is certain it's that he always does the last thing Bruce expects him to do.
Sighing, Bruce gives the driver his address and slumps on the worn seat. Joker rests his head on Bruce's shoulder, humming some song Bruce has heard before but can't name. Bruce wonders if Joker’s incapable of stopping and just being; he's always making some kind of noise or moving, anything to get people to notice him.
It's almost like he's afraid of disappearing if he stops.
Bruce huffs and tells himself to stop analyzing Joker's behavior when he's drunk. He's probably a mile off the mark anyways. Bruce has tried to find some kind of deeper meaning behind Joker’s behavior for years and it all seems to come down to him simply enjoying the things he does, so why would this be any different?
After a moment, Bruce closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of the air freshener and the faint trace of peach shampoo clinging to Joker’s hair. It’s the same scent that often clings to Harley, and Bruce hates it.
Joker nudges Bruce when the cab reaches their destination. Bruce pays the driver while Joker drags himself out of the car.
Bruce doesn’t realize he could've asked the driver to take Joker somewhere that wasn't his home until after the car speeds away, but he doubts calling the cab back would end well for anyone.
While Joker eyes the building critically, Bruce considers his options. In the end he settles for taking Joker up to the penthouse through a backdoor to avoid the risk of someone seeing him hauling one of Gotham's most dangerous criminals to his home.
They make it up without incident, and Joker stumbles and giggles as Bruce drags him through the darkness of the open space of his living room. Bruce drops Joker on the couch and falls next to him with a groan, surprised he managed to get them both from the bar all the way to the penthouse without anyone getting hurt.
"One more drink and then sleep?" Joker asks, and after considering it for a moment Bruce nods.
"Can't make you a cocktail, though."
Joker snorts and Bruce smiles, safe in the knowledge that Joker can’t see it in the dark. He drags himself up and turns on the lights on his way to get the scotch Alfred pretends he doesn't know Bruce keeps in the kitchen. It takes some concentration, but Bruce gets the bottle and glasses out, then he takes a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of his home and take the situation in.
His legs feel like lead and his head is spinning, and there's a homicidal clown on his couch.
It doesn’t seem real, and Bruce shakes with silent laughter. He takes a few shallow breaths before calming himself and returning to the living room.
Joker is half asleep when Bruce puts the scotch down on the glass table, and the sound of it snaps him wide awake. For a second Bruce expects to get shot, but then Joker’s lips curl into a lazy, lopsided smile and he gazes up at Bruce, his head falling on the back of the couch, baring his neck. Bruce bites his lip, wondering if he could taste the madness on Joker’s skin.
Bruce doesn’t realize he’s staring until Joker chuckles and spreads his legs suggestively. Bruce snaps his attention to pouring the scotch while Joker laughs at him.
With some effort, Bruce forces the image of Joker spread on his couch so invitingly out of his mind, and moves the second glass to Joker’s line of sight. He clears his throat to get rid of the sudden lump he seems to have swallowed. “Say when.”
The glass is almost filled to the brim by the time Joker tells him to stop. Bruce sets the bottle down and takes his own glass, and he slumps on the couch next to Joker. He never thought he'd be having a drink in his home with Joker of all people, but there he is, and despite Joker being a bit obnoxious at times Bruce doesn't mind his company—a clear sign of him losing his mind if there ever was one.
Joker sighs and lifts his legs on Bruce's lap, and gulps down most of his drink in one go. Bruce lets his arms fall on Joker’s legs as he closes his eyes; his head feels like it’s filled with cotton and he can’t process the insanity of the situation. A small voice that sounds a lot like Dick tells him he’s entered Bizarro world.
"You're weird, you know that?" Joker’s soft voice brings Bruce out of his thoughts too soon, and he cracks his eyes open to see Joker studying him with surprisingly sharp eyes, considering how drunk he is.
"Yeah," Bruce sighs and sinks deeper into the couch, hoping it will swallow him up whole and take him away.
"It's not a bad thing." Joker laughs and nudges Bruce with his leg.
"I know that," Bruce mutters and hopes Joker shuts up.
“Pretty and weird. My favorite combination. Bet you’re a great kisser too.” Joker’s voice drops low as he leans up to run his fingers along Bruce’s jaw.
It’s too much.
Joker makes a noise of protest when Bruce gets up without a warning and walks away, but Bruce needs to get some sleep and not have Joker messing with his head. Joker calls after him, but Bruce can't quite make out what he's saying—something about him being too uptight, but that’s all Bruce catches. Bruce can either ignore Joker or go back and punch his lights out, and ignoring Joker will leave him with less problems in his hands.
Bruce barely gets his clothes off before falling on his bed and crawling under the covers, and he's asleep before he realizes he's left Joker awake and alone in his home.
The alarm seems to go off seconds after he falls asleep, and Bruce is already in a bad mood. His head hurts, his mouth tastes like something died in it and he feels like throwing up. He groans and turns the alarm off before dragging himself into the shower on legs too weak to walk on.
He's brushing his teeth when he remembers he stormed off on Joker less than four hours ago. Bruce groans and rubs his temples to ease his headache, wishing he could go back in time and tell himself not to go to the bar.
Bruce would rather go back to sleep than leave his bedroom, but he has to go to the board meeting; he'd promised Alfred and Lucius he'd be there, and Bruce isn’t about to make a liar out of himself. So he puts on his best suit and steels himself for whatever waits for him on the other side of his bedroom door.
Joker isn't on the couch anymore, but Bruce smells coffee so he makes his way to the kitchen as quietly as he can. He’s surprised to find the room empty. The fresh coffee in the pot and a plate with a sandwich waiting for him don’t ease his mind at all.
There's even a muffin with a note stuck under it on the kitchen island, and Bruce is dying to know how Joker had managed that. He eyes the breakfast in confusion as he pulls the piece of paper out, ready for anything.
had to go see a friend
thanks for a fun night
xoxo - J
- it's not poisoned :)
Bruce isn't sure what he expected, but this isn't it. He eyes the breakfast and considers either testing the food for poisons or just throwing it all away, but he gets the feeling Joker isn't trying to kill him. And besides, Bruce is on a tight schedule, so he risks his life and takes a bite of the sandwich and shoves the note to his pocket.
Two weeks later and having more or less convinced himself Joker has no interest in toying with Bruce Wayne further, Bruce is driving home after a long day at Wayne Enterprises, changing between the radio channels for a minute until turning it off when nothing piques his interest. He's expecting to see Dick at the manor since he’d promised to help Tim on some project of his that Bruce isn’t allowed to know about just yet, and the anticipation keeps his thoughts occupied enough.
The traffic in downtown is slow, but rather than letting it bother him Bruce relaxes and watches along as the streets fill with people and the nightlife slowly takes over Gotham. The neon lights shine brighter as the shadows grow longer, hiding the things that lurk in the back alleys and lighting up the streets for those who wish to face the kind of night only Gotham can offer. The air hums in anticipation as the city comes to life.
It feels like home in a way nothing else does, and Bruce cracks the window open to let the city into his car.
The traffic disappears almost completely once Bruce leaves the city behind and he lets his mind wander without worrying too much about it. He’s so lost in thought he almost misses a man stumbling to the road not five minutes after he’d crossed the Memorial Bridge, and Bruce is sure he sprains something when he hits the brakes.
If nothing else, the seatbelt just gave him an impressive bruise.
Bruce stares at the figure on the darkening road, his eyes widening in surprise when he recognizes the unmistakable purple coat. He doesn't move when Joker slowly makes his way to the car, fixing his make up as he approaches. Bruce’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel when Joker pockets his lipstick and a small mirror, then gets in the car without bothering to check if it’s okay with Bruce. He’s soaking wet and there's mud on his hair and clothes, and most of his makeup is smeared on his face.
Bruce thinks he sees blood under his coat.
"Take me to the city," Joker orders as a greeting. When Bruce doesn't immediately comply with his command Joker levels him with the iciest glare Bruce has received in a while. "Now.”
Deciding it’s best to do as Joker wants, Bruce turns the car around and drives off towards the neon lights of the city.
Bruce spares a worried glance to Joker when he groans softly and leans against the window with a pained frown on his face. He’s pressing his hands against his left side and Bruce sees he was right about the blood.
He drives faster.
When they reach the city, Joker tells Bruce to take him to a free clinic in the Narrows Bruce knows gets most of its clients from criminals and Arkham escapees. They do a good job and everyone seems to like the staff, and the staff never complains about their clientele so nobody interferes with their business.
Bruce gets to the clinic in record time and without being spotted by the police, and once they’re there he's out of the car and pulling Joker to his feet before Joker can get a word out. Joker leans on Bruce and fists his hand in Bruce’s jacket, leaving bloody prints Bruce fears will never wash away on it. Joker’s weight is too heavy against Bruce and his breathing comes in pained hitches, and the walk from the car to the clinic door feels miles longer than it is.
The only person in the waiting area is the receptionist who takes one look at Joker and motions Bruce to take him to the back. "First door on the left," she calls after them and Bruce nods without caring she can't see them anymore.
Bruce knocks on the door once as a courtesy before opening it without waiting for an answer. He spares a pleading glance at the young woman sitting by her desk with her phone in her hands and a shocked look on her face as he drags Joker to the examination table. She doesn't waste time before throwing her phone on the desk and hurrying over to her new patient.
"What did you do this time?" she asks as she takes in Joker's state while Bruce tries to help Joker out of his coat without injuring him further. Joker waves his hand vaguely and makes a series of random sounds before stilling and glancing between Bruce and the doctor.
"Have you two met already?" Joker motions between the two. "Brucie, meet Suzie. Suzie, Brucie!" Joker smiles widely—too widely; like he’s trying to hide something he considers embarrassing. The wet, bloody coat hangs on Bruce's arms as he stares at Joker with dumbfounded eyes; he didn't think Joker could get embarrassed.
The doctor sighs and gives Bruce a polite smile. "It's Karen, actually," she says as she helps Joker take his torn shirt off. There's a series of long, shallow gashes running along his ribs and Bruce has to bite his tongue to keep himself from forcing Joker to tell him what happened.
"He won't call me by my name unless I marry my boyfriend," Karen explains before pulling on a pair of gloves and focusing on getting the wounds cleaned up.
“I want wedding cake,” Joker tells Bruce with a bright smile.
"Now would you tell me what the hell happened?" Karen asks again. Joker groans and lies down despite Karen's protests, and she glares at Joker until he moves to a position she’s happy with.
"I might owe Ed some money," Joker says casually without looking at Karen. She stops cleaning Joker's wounds as she slowly looks up with her face void of any emotion.
"You didn't," she groans and Joker turns his hurt eyes to her.
"It's not my fault he doesn't appreciate true musical talent," Joker insists. Karen simply shakes her head before getting back to getting the wounds clean and muttering about suicidal idiots.
"Who doesn't appreciate musical talent?" Bruce asks even though he’s not sure if getting involved in the conversation is the best idea if he wants to stay in the room.
"Croc," Joker replies absently without looking at Bruce while Karen stands up to change her gloves and to get the needle and thread she’ll need to stitch Joker up. It takes Bruce a second to remember Joker telling him about his intention to sing See You Later Alligator to Killer Croc. Bruce can't help himself; he punches Joker's leg a little too hard for a billionaire playboy.
"Ow, fuck! How much do you bench? Jesus!" Joker glares at Bruce who has the sense to take a step back and raise his hands. "Why the hell did you do that?"
Bruce can't tell Joker it was an instinctive response to his stupidity and obvious death wish because that would just bring forth a whole new series of questions, so he just makes an apologetic face and shrugs.
"You're so weird." Joker shakes his head before his attention is drawn to Karen and the needle in her hands.
It doesn’t take long for Karen to stitch Joker up, and once she’s done checking her work she gives Joker some antibiotics and painkillers to take home, and orders him to call her if the wounds won’t start healing properly. She gets Joker to promise to keep things easy for a few days, even if Bruce knows it's not likely to happen; if the disbelieving face Karen makes behind Joker's back is any indication she's not buying it either. Bruce decides he likes her.
"Could you make sure he gets home safe? I'd call Jonny but he's out of town," Karen says to Bruce, who promises to see Joker safely home. It’s not like he was going to let Joker walk anywhere in the condition he’s in anyway. Karen thanks him and hands Bruce a piece of paper with an address on it while Joker pulls his ruined clothes back on.
Bruce helps Joker limp back to the car and doesn't mention Joker leaning on him a little too heavily. The streets are already dark, with sirens and the unmistakable ring of gunfire echoing in the distance. Joker breathes in the night air and sighs softly while Bruce opens the car door.
Bruce tries not to notice the blood on the seat when Joker climbs into the car. A small voice in the back of his mind tells him he’ll be screwed when Alfred sees the ruined leather, but Bruce ignores it as he starts the car and drives off.
Bruce keeps glancing at Joker, taking note of the mindless rhythm his fingers are tapping on his leg and the exhaustion slowly taking over him. It's probably not the best time for it, but Bruce has to know what Joker was thinking when he decided to piss Croc off.
"It's not like I meant for him to try to eat me," Joker snaps. "I just didn't think the whole thing through," he adds with a defeated sigh. Bruce has no trouble believing that.
The address Karen gave Bruce takes them to a generic if a bit rundown looking apartment complex in Newton, right at the edge of Amusement Mile. Bruce parks the car at the same time as Joker turns to him with that too nice smile Bruce knows brings only trouble with it.
"Wanna come in?" Joker asks like he and Bruce are old friends who do this kind of thing all the time.
"I've got things I need to do today," Bruce replies, praying Joker will just go and get some rest.
"Let me guess, you've got a pretty girl to woo." Joker wiggles his eyebrows. Bruce shakes his head and looks at the city through the windows; he almost misses the faint glow of the bat signal in the sky.
Gordon's a few hours early.
"Yeah," Bruce agrees and smiles apologetically. Joker gives him an unimpressed look as he opens the door and steps outside.
"Your loss. I've got—" Joker freezes as he spots the signal in the sky. His face lights up, and a rush of dread runs through Bruce. He wants Joker back in the car and oblivious to the symbol reflected on the clouds that hang above Gotham. "On the other hand, you should go woo your girl. I'll keep busy. Bye bye Brucie!" Joker smiles brightly and waves at Bruce before slamming the door shut and hurrying around the car as fast as his injuries allow.
Bruce doesn’t exactly panic, though his mind goes through his opinions faster than usual and his world narrows down to making sure Joker stays inside for the night. He can’t find Joker dead in some back alley because of his obsession with Batman, not if there’s anything he can do about it.
"You know you owe me a drink, right?" Bruce calls out of the window and smiles his most charming smile, the one he gives to the cameras and the women he takes out to keep up his playboy persona. It gets Joker to stop and turn around, and he studies Bruce with curious eyes.
"Don't you have a date?" He's clearly not buying Bruce's act. Great.
"I'd be bored to death." Bruce drops the smile when Joker frowns at him. "And I'd worry about you," he tries instead and hopes Joker can tell he's not lying.
Joker looks almost torn, which is more than Bruce hoped for, so to ease his decision making Bruce steps out of the car and locks the doors. If nothing else it gets Joker to laugh.
"Fine. You get one drink, and then you run along to your date." Joker waits for Bruce to catch up to him before opening the front door.
Joker leads Bruce inside and up the worn stairs all the way to the top floor. Bruce stays close to him in case he needs help when he starts looking unsure on his feet. They make it safely to Joker's front door without Bruce having to stop him from falling down, though Joker stopped to catch his breath a few times, and Bruce lets out a quiet sigh of relief.
It takes Joker a few seconds to unlock the door and lead Bruce in. He flips the lights on as an afterthought before starting to close the dozen or so safety locks he has on the door. Bruce waits by his side despite nearly vibrating with anticipation to see what kind of a place Joker lives in.
"Welcome to my super secret hideout," Joker says after he's done with the door, and leads Bruce through the open space, waving his arm as if he’s showing Bruce some great sight instead of the top floor apartment of an old brownstone.
Bruce is a bit surprised by it all; the floor seems to be actual wood and the walls look like they’ve been recently painted, and Bruce almost asks who picked the warm mahogany like color for them. Bruce hadn't really expected the place to look so nice; even the worn but cared for furniture seems to be purposefully mismatched. The wide open space that takes over most of the apartment and the relatively high ceiling are a stark contrast to Joker’s small cell in Arkham, and Bruce wonders if that’s unconscious on Joker’s part, or a purposeful decision.
"So this is where you live?" Bruce asks casually as he looks around.
"Some of the time," Joker replies absently and points to the couch. "Sit.”
While Bruce does as he's told, Joker gets them glasses and a bottle of red wine from the kitchen. When he returns, Bruce takes the glasses while Joker opens the bottle with a pocketknife. Bruce doesn't say anything when Joker pours him a full glass of wine even though his brain unhelpfully reminds him he’s driving.
Once he’s filled his own glass, Joker slumps down on the couch a little too close to Bruce to be entirely comfortable. "So you'd worry about me. That's nice."
"You're getting blood on the couch," Bruce points out in an attempt to change the topic. Joker looks confused for a second before glancing down and noticing his ruined clothes.
He lets out a dry laugh and hands his glass to Bruce as he stands. "Oh, right. Silly me. Gimme a sec.”
Bruce watches him limp to another room, and he sips his wine while he waits for Joker to come back. He resists the urge to get up and take a look around, distracting himself by sending Alfred a quick text saying he'll be late but everything is fine. He hides the phone when he hears Joker coming back.
Joker has changed his clothes and washed the dirt and blood from his face and hair, though he’s been careful not to wash away any more of his makeup than he had to. Bruce swallows and gulps down the rest of his wine in one go, then refills his glass while Joker sits down by his side. Seeing Joker out of his trademark suits or the Arkham uniform, even if he's just ditched the tie and the vest and opened a couple of buttons of his pale green shirt, is strange and too intimate. Joker has no right to be out of his usual costumes when Bruce is with him; Joker is breaking the rules, even if he doesn’t know about it.
"Now explain the worrying," Joker demands as he takes his glass from Bruce.
Bruce sighs and glances around the apartment. "You're hurt and if you'd bleed to death I'd blame myself," he admits, then drinks his wine to keep himself from saying more. He should slow down before he gets drunk and does something stupid, but Joker is sitting too close to him, looking like he’s gone through hell and studying Bruce with those too intelligent eyes that are so easy to get lost in.
"Oh." Joker sounds almost disappointed and Bruce raises a questioning eyebrow at him. "I was hoping for something more interesting." Joker leans away from Bruce with a sigh and his eyes drift away from Bruce.
"What did you want me to say?" Bruce asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"I dunno. Something else." Joker sounds bored and Bruce needs to change that before Joker decides to entertain himself, most likely at the expanse of Bruce. He rakes his brain to come up with something that will make Joker want to keep him alive and in one piece.
"Look, I don't want you to die. You're not... completely horrible when you're not killing people," Bruce tries. Joker snorts and Bruce counts that as a win.
"You're so sweet." Joker chuckles and flashes Bruce a bright smile. Bruce smiles back, satisfied that the danger has been averted for now, and allows himself to relax. Joker shakes his head and sips his wine.
"I'm going to assume you haven't taken any painkillers," Bruce says calmly when Joker pours himself another glass of wine.
"No, I'm stupid and want to kill myself," Joker deadpans. "I know what I'm doing." Bruce wants to say he’s seen Joker overdose without meaning to before, but keeps quiet.
Bruce keeps filling Joker's glass in hopes he'll get too drunk to get up and leave the apartment, and it takes an hour of chatting and the whole bottle of wine to make Joker nearly fall off the couch in a fit of laughter.
Bruce chuckles and pulls him back to the couch, and encourages him to lie down.
"I think you've had enough."
Joker giggles and nods as he reaches for Bruce with a lazy smile on his lips. Bruce lets him take a hold of his shirt, but hesitates when Joker tries to pull him down. In the end Bruce figures there's no harm in indulging Joker's drunken affections. Joker practically squeaks when he wraps his arms around Bruce's shoulders and pulls him into a warm embrace. Bruce breathes in the smell of soap and the Gotham river, and he holds Joker more tightly than he probably should, but he needs that moment of genuine warmth with Joker.
He needs to have that memory—he’ll need the reminder that Joker is capable of this when he next starts destroying the city.
"I can't breathe." Joker laughs softly into Bruce's ear and Bruce eases his hold on him a little, and lets go when Joker pats his back and pulls away.
"You're a great hugger," Joker says, and Bruce is a little proud of himself.
"Promise you'll get some rest and stay home?" Bruce presses and looks into Joker's eyes to make sure he’s listening.
"Because you'd worry if I'd get hurt." Joker is just a bit too smug for Bruce's liking, but after a second he blinks slowly, trying to keep his eyes focused on Bruce even though he’s close to falling to sleep.
Bruce gives Joker a polite smile. "Sure." He moves the empty wine bottle and the glasses to the table covered with various knick-knacks, books, papers and a few knives so that Joker won’t accidentally knock them over.
"I got Bruce Wayne to like me," Joker continues with a wide grin, clearly proud of himself. Bruce's smile drops and he groans.
"Let's not exaggerate." Bruce pulls away from Joker. "It's more of a mortal fear for my life and a desire not to piss you off."
Joker laughs and tries to swat Bruce's arm. "Don't be stupid. I'm not gonna hurt you! You're fun to have around."
Bruce takes another step back. "I'm really not," he starts but shuts up when something shifts in the way Joker looks at him.
"Well what use do I have for you then?" Joker asks too sweetly as the warmness he had in his eyes disappears. Bruce’s blood runs cold as Joker's smile turns cruel, and he instinctively backs off.
"I didn't mean it like that," Bruce says. He knows he can take Joker on if he attacks, but explaining that would be difficult, and since he doesn't want to put Bruce Wayne on top of Joker's hit list he's making knocking Joker out and possibly breaking a few of his bones the last resort—especially when Joker already has an impressive collection of fresh stitches.
"Oh please, do tell me how you meant it." Joker gets up, his voice dangerously light. Bruce has a second to marvel at his steadiness before his own feet catch the edge of a carpet and he nearly trips.
Joker uses his brief loss of balance to shove him to the ground. Bruce hits the floor with a huff and Joker is straddling him and pinning him down before he has a chance to fully process it. Bruce fears Joker is going to tear his stitches and he’ll have to take him to the ER, and if Joker wasn’t looking at him like he’s trying to decide what the best way to kill Bruce is he’d tell Joker to watch what he’s doing. Bruce expects Joker to hit him or stab him or something, but he just stares Bruce with anger twisting his features into something ugly.
Bruce tries to gently tug his wrists free from Joker's hold, but it only gets Joker to tighten his grip. "And here I thought we could've been friends."
"Fine, we'll be friends. Just get off me," Bruce says hastily, doing his best to keep his breathing slow and his mind calm.
Joker snarls and squeezes Bruce's ribs with his knees. "Don't do that."
Bruce forces himself to stay still even though he’s having trouble breathing. "Do what?"
"Say what you think I wanna hear! Don't be like everyone else. You do that again and I'll turn you into a pumpkin."
Bruce regards Joker for a moment and weighs his options. The smart thing to do would be to headbutt him into unconsciousness, but Bruce has been doing the violent approach with Joker for years and it hasn't worked. And there’s something different about Joker; it’s more of a faint feeling than anything Bruce can pinpoint down, but it’s there.
Maybe it's time to try something new.
"Look, I honestly wouldn't mind being your friend. When I said I'm not interesting I meant it. I’m pretty sure the most interesting thing about me is my bank account. Don't get your hopes up," Bruce says as sincerely and calmly as he can. Joker studies Bruce closely for a long moment before his face softens minutely.
"You're not joking," Joker mutters like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Bruce is fairly certain it's not the best time for a sarcastic comment so he bites his tongue to keep quiet.
"Okay." Joker nods and flashes Bruce a bright smile before standing up and offering Bruce his hand. "This'll be fun!"
Bruce isn't sure what he's gotten himself into, but it can't be worse than anything Joker's already put him through. He lets Joker help him up and does a quick and subtle check up to make sure neither one of them got hurt before turning his attention to Joker.
"So what now?" Bruce asks cautiously. Joker shrugs and limps back to the couch.
"Go home," Joker replies as he slumps down. "Let me sleep for a few hours." Bruce hopes Joker will actually get some rest.
"Guess I'll see you around then." Bruce starts walking towards the front door. He gets about halfway there before Joker hops onto his feet and comes after him.
"Forgot you can't open the door," Joker explains, ignoring the tension in Bruce’s body. Bruce waits while Joker works on the locks, and when he's done he opens the door and holds it open for Bruce.
"Do me a favor," Joker says as soon as Bruce is standing in the hallway. Bruce turns to him and raises a curious eyebrow. "Don't tell Bats I live here!" Joker grins and slams the door on Bruce's face.
Bruce stares at the door with wide eyes for a second before calmly walking away, trying not to think of the irony of Joker's request.
A few Joker free weeks later Bruce is at a gallery opening with a rising actress by his side and an arms dealer in his sights. He's not expecting any trouble, so when someone starts shooting while Bruce is getting him and his date a drink it takes him by surprise.
As the second round of gunfire rings around the venue, Bruce ducks under a table and scans the wide space to figure out what's happening.
His arms dealer is engaged in a firefight with someone Bruce doesn't recognize.
A stray shot hits one of the escaping guests.
Bruce needs to get outside. He searches the room for his date, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees a young man help her escape. He hopes they'll have fun together as he dashes towards the doors.
It's chaos on the sidewalk and Bruce thanks his luck; it will make disappearing a lot easier. Since Bruce had given his car to the valet and it's now out of his immediate reach, he decides the next best thing is to call Alfred so that he can get into his batsuit and be out on the streets questioning people as soon as possible.
Bruce has just begun to walk away from the panicking guests and the curious crowd gathering around them when the sound of screeching tires catches his attention, and a bright red Camaro pulls up next to him. Bruce stops out of curiosity and the tinted window rolls down to reveal Joker's grinning face. Bruce should have seen this coming.
"Goin’ my way?" If Joker grins any wider his face will split in two. Bruce sighs in defeat and figures this might as well happen, and maybe he'll get a free ride back home.
"Sure," he answers and gets into the car.
Joker winks at Bruce as he turns up the music and steps on the gas and speeds away, barely dodging the spectators around the gallery. Joker looks better than he did the last time Bruce saw him, and Bruce hopes he’s been following Karen’s instructions and actually spent the past weeks resting. Bruce sinks into his seat even though he knows nobody can see him through the tinted windows and closes his eyes for a second before Joker singing along the radio catches his attention.
"Joan Jett?" Bruce fights the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth; Joker singing Bad Reputation off key is not funny.
Joker nods enthusiastically and drives faster. Bruce isn't worried about Joker's driving; no matter how reckless it seems, Bruce has been in enough car chases with Joker to know he knows what he's doing, but he still worries they'll be pulled over. Bruce is ready to cry kidnapping if that happens and he can only hope Joker will go along with it.
As the car slides across the road and they run the second set of red lights Bruce realizes he has a whole new problem: he has to figure out a way to get Joker to take him home as soon as possible.
"Any chance you drop me off at the manor?" Bruce asks and hopes that's all it takes to solve his problem.
"Already? What am I, a taxi driver?" Joker glances at Bruce with a wicked smile on his lips. "Oh! Now I see this clearly. My whole life is pointed in one direction. There never has been a choice for me," he continues with a solemn expression, and Bruce chuckles.
"Just shut up and enjoy the ride," Joker orders, but there’s no real force behind it. Bruce still bites his tongue to stop himself from saying something he might regret.
"Why were you at the gallery?" Bruce asks after a minute. Joker hums and tilts his head in consideration.
"Well, I heard there were these arms dealers who hate each other in town so I thought it'd be fun if I booked a meeting with them both at the same party at the same time, and because arms dealers tend to be a bit paranoid with mystery clients who might be hitmen they brought their guns and started shooting when they saw each other," Joker tells Bruce with a gleeful smile. "I was just driving by to see how it turned out and there you were! What a happy coincidence. Why? Did I save you from a boring date?"
Bruce doesn't answer immediately. He's not surprised Joker had orchestrated a shootout for his own amusement, but the joy he gets from putting innocent people in danger still angers Bruce. For a second he’d let himself believe Joker had been at the gallery by coincidence, and he berates himself for ignoring the obvious.
"So I almost got shot because you wanted to see what they'd do," Bruce says blandly. He might not be able to beat Joker up for the mess he created, but if Joker wants to play friends then Bruce can get upset with him. And Bruce will definitely get upset over innocent people dying for Joker’s amusement.
"Oh don't be like that! It's not like I meant for you to get shot." Joker huffs and shakes his head like Bruce is the one who's the problem.
"Just everybody else," Bruce retorts and crosses his arms, and if he looks a bit petulant then so be it.
Joker groans and rolls his eyes. "I didn't know they were gonna shoot up the place. I'm not psychic. They might as well have talked it out and become bestest friends.”
Bruce can tell he's losing interest in the topic. "But that wouldn't have been fun," he still points out, and if the hard glare Joker shoots at him is anything to go by he's pushing his luck.
"That would've been hilarious," Joker mutters and Bruce knows the conversation is over. He's not sure if Joker is kidding or not, but Bruce is leaning on him being serious. He considers pushing the matter further, but he comes to the conclusion that Joker doesn’t like him enough to not kill him if he gets annoyed, so he shuts up.
"Did you steal this?" Bruce asks after a minute and looks around the car. Joker makes a face and shakes his head.
"Harley stole it, I'm borrowing," he replies and points at the radio. "Going by the music I'd say she had a date with Ivy."
Bruce's interest is immediately piqued. "So, your girlfriend took someone else on a date and now you're borrowing their stolen car?" He tries not to smile at the way Joker’s face twitches in annoyance.
Like most of Gotham’s underworld and the detectives at GCPD, Bruce has heard all the rumors about Joker and Harley going their separate ways for good, but since it's still just whispers among criminals he’s never had any real confirmation of it, even if the rumors have been around for a few months. He’s just assumed they’re having another fight that would blow over sooner or later, and Harley would return to Joker like she always does.
Joker sighs and gives Bruce a suffering look. "You really wanna talk about my love life?" His tone is disbelieving, so Bruce gives him his most endearing smile.
"Oh god. Fine. Try to keep up." Joker waits until Bruce nods before continuing in a fast pace, "I kinda ditched Harley on a more, ah, permanent basis — which she is fully aware of and agreed to, by the way — so now she's living with Ivy and apparently they're going on a road trip with the Kitty Cat so unless they end up killing each other there's a chance of a ménage à trois in there. I don’t care since we’re not together together anymore, obviously, and I’m free to focus on more, ah, interesting people if I want to."
Bruce has to take a second to process it. He had no idea Harley and Ivy were planning a road trip with Selina and he might have to look into it when he gets home, but it’s not the thing that catches his attention. "You two actually broke up?" The confusion on his face is real. He knows exactly how twisted the relationship between Joker and Harley is and he needs to be sure this time Joker has let her go for good.
"Yeah, but she’ll come back if I tell her to. Right now we just hang out, do stuff; whatever works. She's fun," Joker explains with surprising patience. "At least, you know, when she's not being annoying to the point I want to kill her," he adds with a bright smile, and even though Bruce knows it's not likely Joker will kill Harley he still worries. He likes Harley.
"And you call me weird." Bruce turns to look out of the window while Joker laughs. The city passes by in a blur and Bruce barely pays attention to where they are.
"You are weird," Joker laughs. "Just own up to it." Bruce doesn't bother telling him he's already owned up to his weirdness big time as he glances out of the window to see if he can spot the bat signal in the sky. It doesn’t catch his eye, but it might be because of the buildings blocking his view.
"I'll consider it," Bruce says anyway to humor Joker. "But I still need to go home.” He offers Joker an apologetic smile. Joker ignores him in favor of switching through Harley's playlist.
"Look, I was just in a shootout and I went missing," Bruce tries but Joker cuts him off with a wave of his hand.
"You're not in danger." Joker looks offended at the mere idea, and while Bruce is happy they’re back to Joker not wanting to hurt him it doesn’t solve his problem.
"I know that." Bruce receives an unimpressed glance for his troubles. "But people worry when someone disappears from a situation like that. And I'd rather not have you accused of kidnapping me.”
Finally Joker seems to think it through, and Bruce waits with bated breath for Joker to make up his mind.
"Fine," Joker grumbles after a moment. He sulks, but turns the car around and speeds through the streets towards the manor. Bruce relaxes and sits back, enjoying the high speed ride.
Joker takes the longest possible route, but Bruce doesn’t complain. It’s just not worth the trouble. Instead Bruce checks his phone to make sure no one has tried to contact him, and if Joker happens to glance at him with cautious eyes Bruce ignores it and puts his phone back in his pocket.
Bruce wants to ask how Joker has been in the past weeks but the words don’t come out, so instead he tells Joker his date had left his for someone else the second the shooting had started, and as Bruce hoped Joker laughs.
When they reach the gates of Wayne Manor, Joker hits the brakes so hard Bruce worries the car will break down, and Bruce has to take a second to make sure he’s in one piece. Joker chews his lip with a contemplative look on his face, and Bruce thanks him for the ride and rushes out of the car before Joker decides he doesn't want to let him go. Bruce waves at the car as he hurries through the gates without looking back.
He hears the car take off with the tires screeching dangerously. Bruce wonders if Joker ever got a driver's license.
Tim is waiting for Bruce, ready to hit the streets, and Bruce pretends he doesn’t know what caused the shootout. He figures he can at least find out who the second arms dealer was if the police don’t know it already. And if the police have done the job for him he can always focus on finding Croc.
Tim keeps giving Bruce looks that range from curious to annoyed, and after an hour of questioning every criminal they think might know something about the gallery incident he stops Bruce and tells him to go take care of whatever it is that’s bothering him.
“I can take care of a couple of mobsters,” he assures Bruce with a small smile and eyes that beg Bruce to trust him.
And Bruce knows Tim can take care of it. He just worries. How could he not, after… well. He worries.
But Tim looks at him, silently begging for the trust he knows he deserves, and Bruce gives up. “Let me know if you get in trouble.” The happy smile on Tim’s face alleviates his fears only a little.
“I will,” Tim promises and dashes into the night before Bruce can change his mind, and maybe Alfred and Dick are right when they tell him to ease off the kid; Tim needs to go out on his own more and become his own person, and Bruce has to trust Tim won’t go near Joker if he finds out he was behind the shootout, not when it’s something Bruce has ordered Tim never to do since the day he became Robin.
Bruce stays in the shadows for a moment longer before focusing his efforts on tracking down Croc.
Bruce has no idea how Joker got a hold of his phone number and 5am is, in his opinion, too early for dealing with it. Especially after the night he's had. Bruce groans and rubs his eyes; he's bruised and tired and even the long shower he took couldn't get the stink of sewer off of him, and no matter how much Tim rolls his eyes and says it’s just in his head Bruce knows the smell is still clinging to him. He isn't sleep deprived enough to hallucinate just yet.
Still, no matter how much Bruce wants to ignore it, his phone has half a dozen texts from Joker. Bruce considers ignoring them, but he doubts he can sleep without dealing with it so he forces his eyes to focus on the phone and reads the messages again.
The first one was sent at 3am and simply says ' you should really keep better care of your stuff :P j '. The second message was sent twenty minutes later. ' btw i cloned your credit card. needed a new suit and robbing a bank was too much work ' Bruce can't wait to explain that to Alfred.
The next message is a picture of Joker's new suit, which Bruce grudgingly admits looks pretty good on him. It's a deep, nearly black shade of purple, a contrast to his usually colorful outfits, and Bruce almost sends Joker a text asking what's with the new style. The picture is followed by two texts asking for Bruce's opinion and thanking him for the money.
The last message is just a smiley.
Bruce falls on his bed and buries his face in a pillow to muffle his long suffering groan. He should've risked Joker finding out he's Batman and just smashed his face on the counter the second he walked up to him in that bar. It would’ve saved him a lot of trouble. But now that Bruce is stuck with Joker and he's not in a position to ignore him, Bruce sighs and forces his eyes to focus for long enough to send a text.
It looks good. Next time just ask for the money.
Bruce figures it’s good enough and buries his face in his pillow. He lifts his head a few seconds later to send one more message telling Joker to go to sleep. His phone buzzes as he sets it down, and Bruce lets himself imagine how good it would feel to turn it off before cracking an eye open just enough to see if it’s something important.
says the guy still awake
Bruce snorts despite himself and starts typing.
Touché. He hits reply before he can talk himself out of it and yawns. The phone buzzes in his hand and Bruce tells himself he can close his eyes for a minute before checking the new message.
He doesn't mean to fall asleep.
Bruce wakes up when Alfred opens the curtains a few hours later. He's still tired and makes it known by complaining about the brightness into his pillow and pulling the covers over his head. Alfred tells Bruce to stop being childish, but his voice is fond, and Bruce smiles even though Alfred can't see it.
"Perhaps you should take a night off," Alfred suggests as he passes the bed, and Bruce almost agrees with him.
Bruce stretches and his hand brushes against his phone. He remembers the text Joker had sent him before he fell asleep, and he’s wide awake in an instant. Alfred takes his time leaving the room and Bruce waits patiently until he’s out of the room before pulling his phone from under the pillow. He hopes the last text from Joker hadn't been too important and squints at the bright screen.
try ambien :)
Bruce doesn't think letting Joker know he’s already done that would be a good idea, so he drops his phone and drags himself into the shower. He’ll need to get the sheets changed to get the faint smell of sewer off of them. The smell just won’t leave his skin, and he doubts another shower will do much to change that but he still tries.
He knows it’s not just in his head, no matter what Alfred and Tim say.
Turns out Joker wanted a new suit for when he tries to fry Gotham's power grid because — as Bruce really should've remembered — it's the anniversary of the first time they met and Joker thought the lights were going to ruin the fireworks he wanted to set off. Bruce isn’t surprised to find that the fireworks also included explosives set up around the city, and Alfred’s joke about getting Bruce’s best cape out for the occasion doesn’t help make him feel better.
Bruce finds Joker easily near Gotham Harbor with a bomb ready to go off. It hasn’t been that long since he was mauled and Bruce doesn’t want to hurt him too much, so he tries to talk to him, but Joker lunges at him, ignoring his words, furious that Batman has the audacity to try to ruin their anniversary. Bruce holds back until he can’t; he twists Joker’s arm until he drops his gun and kicks him hard to knock the air out of his lungs, and wrestles him to the ground.
That should’ve been it, but Joker squirms out of his hold and takes off in a sprint, and Bruce is left alone with a bomb set to go off in less than a minute. Bruce doesn’t even bother disarming it, he’d looked at one of those things when he’d stopped the power plant from going up in smoke, and he needs more time than he has to dismantle it. The area has been evacuated so the only damage will be to property, and that can be fixed.
So Bruce goes after Joker, intending to keep him from setting off any more explosives. He catches Joker on the bridge and presses him against the railing right before the bomb goes off. The bridge shakes with the explosion and the railing creaks under their weight. Bruce fears it might break. He has to get Joker out of there before the bridge crumbles under their feet.
Bruce straightens up and lets go of Joker for just long enough to grab the handcuffs from his belt while Joker — still laughing at the destruction around them — hangs over the railing, watching the docks burn as the bridge trembles under their feet. He claps his hands, somehow balancing himself against the railing without it breaking under him despite the ominous creaking.
Bruce shakes his head minutely before reaching for him.
The railing gives out and Joker falls into the water with an alarmed yelp before Bruce can catch him.
Bruce spends the rest of the night looking for him, fearing this is the time Joker won’t survive, and with Tim and the police dealing with Joker's scattering henchmen Bruce can focus on what matters most to him.
Tim tells him not to beat himself up over it, but Bruce can’t help it. He should’ve moved faster. He should’ve never let go of Joker. He shouldn’t have let Joker near that railing in the first place; the bridge should have been renovated a long time ago and Bruce knew it wasn’t safe, not with the explosions going off and shaking the bridge so violently.
Though he searches all night, Bruce can’t find Joker, and by the time the sun starts to rise he’s forced to give up his search for the time being. He tells Tim he'll sleep in the penthouse for a change — mostly because he wants to avoid the look he knows Alfred will be giving him if he goes home; it's the same look after every confrontation with Joker, like Alfred knows something Bruce doesn't, and it makes Alfred tired and morose. Bruce hates it and he’s not in the mood to deal with it.
Once in the penthouse, Bruce ditches his armor on the bathroom floor and takes a long hot shower that does nothing to ease the tension in his muscles before falling into bed without bothering to dry himself properly.
He’s half asleep when his phone starts ringing on the nightstand, and Bruce groans and rolls over, burying his head under the pillows to drown out the noise. It stops after a minute, followed by a ding signaling a received text, and when Bruce doesn't react to it his phone starts ringing again.
"For fucks sake!" Bruce drags himself out from under the covers and reaches for his phone, and answers without bothering to see who’s calling him. "What?" he barks into the phone, and it's followed by a deadly silence.
"No need to shout sweetie," Joker's less than happy voice eventually breaks the silence, and Bruce lets out a relieved breath.
"Sorry. Rough night." Bruce bites his lip, wondering if he could ask if Joker is alright, or if that would make Joker suspicious.
"Join the club," Joker mutters, all the anger gone from his voice.
"Did you want something?" Bruce asks, making sure his voice doesn't sound too curious.
"Depends. Where are you?" Joker’s voice is carefully neutral.
Bruce considers his opinions; he could lie and say he's at the manor, but there's a chance that Joker already knows where he is. "At the penthouse."
"Oh good. I'll be there in ten. Open the door for me." Joker hangs up without waiting for a reply. Bruce frowns at his phone and groans when he realizes he'll have to get up.
He pulls on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, and plans to make a cup of coffee while he waits for Joker, but as he walks past the open bathroom door something catches his eye: his batsuit, still scattered on the floor for everyone to see. Bruce forgets about the coffee and hurries to pick up the armor, trying to figure out a place to hide it from Joker. He ends up shoving it in under the laundry with just enough time for him to calm down and check the mirror to make sure his face isn’t bruised like the rest of his body before Joker is behind his front door.
"Get me a drink, would you?" Joker says when he limps inside, dripping water all over the floor. Bruce notes he's lost the coat he'd been wearing earlier which leaves him in a soaked three piece suit that looks black in its current state, and the makeup and blood running down his face makes him look more unhinged than his usual warpaint does. Joker throws the jacket to the floor and loosens his tie as he slumps on the couch while Bruce gets him his drink.
Joker takes the tumbler from Bruce without so much as a thank you and presses it to the scrape on his scalp. It’s got an impressive bruise developing around it and Bruce thinks the injury came after Joker's fall, unlike the awkward way Joker is holding his right wrist; that’s Bruce's doing.
Bruce watches Joker down the whiskey in one go and pours him more without prompting before he grabs himself a glass too; he's getting the feeling he'll need a drink.
Bruce sits on a chair at a safe distance from Joker, but not far enough to warrant a comment, and watches Joker closely. He’s closed his eyes and he's frowning with the glass pressed against his scalp, and Bruce isn't sure what he should do or say.
"I just wanted fireworks," Joker whispers after a while, his voice laced with barely concealed sadness. Bruce reminds himself he's not supposed to know anything about what Joker is talking about and stays quiet.
"Just some nice fireworks and maybe a good laugh but no," Joker continues. "This is what I get for trying to do something nice." Joker motions at himself, and finally opens his eyes and fixes them on Bruce.
"Sorry," Bruce says in lack of a better response.
Joker gives him a rueful smirk. "Aww, you're so sweet.”
Bruce shrugs. He wasn't really lying, he does feel sorry for Joker being upset over his ruined plans, though Bruce isn't sorry for preventing him from causing destruction and death.
"Why'd you come here?" Bruce asks, interested as to why Joker hadn't gone to one of his safe houses or called his henchmen to get him.
"No one's gonna look for me here."
Bruce gives Joker his best confused face. Joker sighs and finishes his drink, and Bruce refills his glass once more. "Jimbo's hunting my crew. Considering the amount of idiots in this world I'm not trusting them to keep their mouths shut," he explains. "And if I'm lucky Bats thinks I'm dead and blames himself for it." Bruce hopes he's doing a good job at keeping his face straight — not that Joker is paying any attention to him anymore.
Bruce should be calling the police. He could excuse letting Joker get away when he wasn't killing people or causing destruction, but just hours ago Joker had shot a security guard and hospitalized another one for being in his way. Not to mention his attempt to blow up half of Gotham.
Bruce really should make sure Joker ends up in Arkham.
"It was just an anniversary. Who cares about those?" Joker looks exhausted; he lets his eyes fall shut and sinks deeper into the couch. Bruce almost apologizes again. He never really believed the fuss about anniversaries was actually such a big deal to Joker and not just a part of his act.
Bruce fiddles with his glass and looks around the room. Sending Joker to Arkham doesn’t feel like the right thing to do anymore.
"Do you have anything to eat?" Joker bolts up without a warning, then puts his unfinished drink on the table and heads towards the kitchen. Bruce wonders if he's limping because of their fight or if Joker hurt himself when he fell.
Bruce finishes his drink and puts his glass down before following Joker who is already rummaging through the refrigerator for something to eat by the time Bruce enters the kitchen.
"You've got absolutely nothing in here," Joker says with a disappointed pout. Bruce doesn't bother pointing out the refrigerator is packed full. Joker gets up and leans on the counter with a sigh and rubs the bloody scrape on his scalp.
"I think I've got some antiseptic," Bruce offers but Joker waves him off.
"I'll be fine." Joker demonstrates his ability to take care of himself by slamming his injured wrist on the counter by accident. Bruce winces in sympathy as Joker curses and hits the counter again. "Fuck. That smarts," Joker laughs and holds his wrist.
"Yeah. I'm getting the antiseptic." Bruce leaves Joker laughing in the kitchen and rushes to the bathroom where he keeps a well stocked first-aid kit.
He decides against bringing the whole thing with him to the kitchen; he’s not in the mood for the questions the amount of things he has in the kit might raise. Instead, Bruce grabs the antiseptic, some gauze and the last cohesive bandage, and makes a mental note to restock as he puts the kit back under the sink and hurries back to Joker.
By the time Bruce returns to the kitchen, Joker has slumped down on the floor with a tangerine. Bruce frowns at the fruit's peeled skin discarded on the floor. He cleans the mess up before sitting next to Joker and pressing a wad of cotton soaked in antiseptic to his scalp. Joker makes a small noise and glares at Bruce, but for once it's not a threatening look.
"How about I borrow your shower before you start coddling me," Joker says when Bruce pulls out the gauze, making Bruce stop in his tracks. It might be proof of how tired he is, but Bruce hadn't even thought about Joker's soaked clothes or the dirt clinging to his skin.
"Yeah, go ahead." Bruce points Joker to the direction of the bathroom. He watches Joker drag himself up and walk away, and as soon as Joker is out of sight Bruce lets out a heavy breath and rubs his eyes. He's tired in every possible way and there's no amount of coffee that will help. Still, Bruce figures it won't hurt either, so he gets up and brews himself a cup, topped with a shot of espresso for good measure.
Joker takes his time in the shower and for a moment Bruce thinks he's slipped and cracked his skull or fallen asleep, but since he hasn't heard any crashes he assumes Joker is still okay.
As soon as his coffee is ready, Bruce heads to the bedroom. He's not going to let Joker put on his soaked clothes, so he goes through his closet and picks a pair of sweats and a shirt he knows will be too big for Joker, and after a moment of hesitation he picks a pair of the warmest socks he has as well as clean underwear he won’t miss, and sets them out for Joker to find.
With that done, Bruce goes back to the kitchen to get something to eat; he can deal with no sleep, but he won't go on without food and he needs something to busy himself with.
Joker shows up covered in towels just as Bruce finishes putting together a simple breakfast. Bruce’s lips curl up at the sight of Joker wrapped up in the towels; he's covered his hair in one and wrapped two more around his waist and shoulders. He’s holding a corner of the towel around his shoulders in his fist and pressing it to his cheek, covering half of his face in the process. If it was anyone else standing before Bruce he'd call the sight cute.
"I made breakfast." Bruce feels silly pointing out the obvious. Joker stares at him with a blank expression, the towel still on his face, and Bruce relaxes and averts his eyes; he’s seen Joker without his makeup before and he knows how wan Joker looks under all the color, and he doesn’t care. He’d say as much if he could.
"Just let me patch you up first." Bruce grabs the antiseptic, gauze and the bandages from the counter, and ushers Joker back into the bedroom. Bruce doesn't comment when Joker makes a quick detour to get the bottle of whiskey from where Bruce had left it and explains it away as good pain relief.
Bruce lets the soft glow of the morning sun illuminate the room instead of turning on the lights, mostly because Joker is still holding the towel to his face and Bruce wants him to be at ease. He almost offers to find Joker some lipstick; some model or an actress has to have left theirs lying around somewhere in the penthouse.
"Sit down." Bruce points to his bed. "I got you some clothes too," he continues and indicates to the neatly folded stack on a chair, and after a second of consideration Joker shrugs and drops his towels before climbing on the bed with his back turned to Bruce and doing a lazy stretch.
Bruce states at Joker with a blank expression. He should have known Joker has no problem getting naked in front of him, but it still makes Bruce uncomfortable and he averts his eyes from the pale, bruised expanse of his back.
Joker glances at Bruce over his shoulder and snorts.
"Please. Don't get all shy on me now; it's not as cute as you think." He gives Bruce an unamused look to go with his tone. Bruce mentally shakes himself and wets a new wad of cotton in antiseptic as he walks up to Joker. He hesitates for a second before sitting on the bed and pushing Joker's damp hair off his face. Joker watches Bruce with guarded eyes as Bruce starts cleaning his injuries, and when Bruce has no reaction to his makeup free face he slowly relaxes and licks his lips.
It's strange to be so gentle with Joker, and as Bruce cleans the wound carefully and makes sure there's no dirt or anything else stuck in it he takes the opportunity to really look at Joker. He looks different, still wet from the shower and with his eyes almost closed, and Bruce would call it calmness if it weren't for the silent tapping of his fingers against the bed. The bruises and scrapes are coloring his usually white skin in a myriad of unflattering shades and shapes, and a pang of regret hits Bruce at the boot-shaped bruise on Joker's ribs.
He starts cleaning the other scrapes and wounds without saying a word as a way of apologizing, even if Joker doesn't know it. Joker tilts his head and gives Bruce a lazy but curious look.
"Let me look at your wrist," Bruce says more gently than he's ever spoken to Joker before, and holds his hand out for him after he's done with his wounds. Joker gives Bruce his hand with a hint of reluctance and keeps a close eye on Bruce’s actions. Bruce grimaces at how swollen the wrist is, and the impressive bruise beginning to form on it isn’t making Bruce feel any better about what he’d done.
"Do you think it's broken?"
Joker shrugs. "Dunno." He bends his wrist and fingers carefully, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Probably not. Feels like the cartilage's been busted," he continues and offers his hand back to Bruce who decides to trust Joker's judgment and simply bandages the wrist up.
"All done," Bruce says when he's finished with the bandage. They just sit there for a while in a comfortable silence, with Bruce still holding Joker's hand and absently rubbing circles on his bandaged wrist. Joker eyes Bruce curiously, though Bruce doesn't fully register it; he's too lost in thought as he studies the pale expanse of Joker's skin.
"What're you thinking?" Joker asks softly. Bruce snaps out of his thoughts and drops Joker's hand as he turns away to hide the blush he can't stop from spreading on his face.
"Nothing. I'm just tired," Bruce replies and ignores Joker's amused look.
"I can see that." Joker’s voice drips with amusement and sarcasm as he leans into Bruce's space to get a better look at his face. Bruce forces himself to stay still as Joker's eyes stare into his, seeming to look right into his soul. He doesn't know what Joker is trying to see but he hopes he doesn't find it.
Bruce doesn't dare to move even when Joker leans in so close his breath brushes against Bruce’s face. Bruce is all too familiar with the situation; he's been in it as Batman one too many times to not know what Joker is doing, and just like every other time Bruce tries to fight off the excitement building inside him.
The corner of Joker's mouth turns up mischievously and he gets close enough to Bruce for their noses to touch. Bruce is almost shaking with anticipation and the desire to run. He should pull away, he should do something, but Bruce is tired and he doesn't have the energy to fight.
Bruce doesn't pull away when Joker lips press against his own; he lets Joker wove his fingers into his hair and pry his mouth open with his tongue. Bruce lets himself drown in the taste of Joker as that familiar grin spreads against his lips.
It's too much and not enough, and Bruce buries his fingers in Joker's damp hair and pulls on it to get control of the kiss. Joker moans and bites Bruce's lip hard enough to draw blood. It stings and Joker nips the cut and licks it, and forces his tongue and the taste of blood into Bruce’s mouth.
Bruce isn’t in control.
Joker is pulling his hair and alternating between crushing their mouths together and giving Bruce’s bleeding lip gentle little lick and he smells like Bruce’s soap and antiseptic and Bruce can do nothing but hold on.
Joker laughs into the kiss and Bruce jerks away fast, breathing hard and staring at the brightly grinning Joker in shock.
"Aren't you full of surprises," Joker purrs and tries to pull Bruce back into his arms, but Bruce refuses to move.
He can't do this.
Joker narrows his eyes at Bruce and digs his sharp nails into Bruce’s arm, and Bruce knows he's about to get hurt.
But then Joker's eyes widen and he lets go of Bruce, and falls back on the bed as he loses his balance. Joker gazes up and smiles almost gently at Bruce, and the blood on his lips colors his mouth in a grotesque mockery of his usual lipstick.
"Didn't you make breakfast?" Joker asks sweetly, and Bruce feels like he's being offered an easy way out of the situation. He grabs it with both hands.
"Yeah. I should check on it." Bruce bolts up, looking at anything but Joker. Bruce ignores the muffled laughter coming from the bed behind him as he hurries to the door and out of the room as fast as he can.
Bruce doesn't stop until he's leaning against the counter, breathing fast and trying to stop himself from shaking.
He can't believe he just kissed Joker. Sure he'd thought about it before, but that was just a natural consequence of the complicated relationship they have. Bruce has spent years telling himself that any thoughts or dreams or fantasies he’s had about Joker were because of the intensity they fought with and Joker telling him they belonged together, and the jokes and innuendo and sweet nothings he throws at Batman as they try to tear each other apart.
Maybe something had stuck inside Bruce's mind and grown into the rotten thing that pushes him towards Joker.
Bruce counts to ten and pulls himself together. He wipes the blood off his lips on the back of his hand, pushes himself up and washes his hands before turning his focus to making sure the breakfast is still edible. The coffee has gone cold so Bruce makes more and gets himself a slice of the quiche Alfred or Tim has left in the fridge. It isn't until Bruce has calmed down with a fresh cup of coffee that Joker finally emerges, and Bruce is grateful he's washed the blood off his face and put on the clothes Bruce had left out for him.
"You've got a really comfy taste." Joker spreads his arms to show off the too big clothes. Bruce almost smiles when Joker does a twirl and flaps the sleeves covering his fingers with a silly smile on his face.
Bruce points to the plate on the kitchen island. "There’s bagels — cream cheese is in the fridge —, and ham quiche, or I can make you a fruit smoothie if you want."
Joker grabs a bagel as he beelines for the coffee. Bruce gets him the cream cheese and moves out of the way, and if he's keeping his distance it's his business.
Still, Joker raises an eyebrow and glances at Bruce, but he doesn't say anything as he sits down on the floor with his coffee and the bagel. Joker keeps watching Bruce with a contemplative look while he stuffs the bagel into his mouth, and Bruce ignores him to the best of his abilities and tries not to yawn as he drinks his coffee.
"Now you look tired," Joker remarks and Bruce almost says he's been up for two days so of course he's tired, but thinks better of it.
"You don't look much better yourself," he says instead and glances at the shadows under Joker's eyes. Joker laughs and shrugs.
"I'll take the couch?" Joker offers with a sly grin. Bruce wants to smack that look off of his face and he tells himself he won't fall for it, he won't tell Joker he doesn't mind him in his bed. "I mean you do look a bit agitated. Feel free to have your crisis in peace." Joker’s grin widens when Bruce scowls.
"Do whatever you like," Bruce blurts before thinking and he knows he'll regret it when Joker's eyes gleam dangerously.
Bruce finishes his coffee and quiche quickly, then he walks away from Joker without another word as briskly as his tired legs allow. He gets into the bedroom and takes the leftover gauze and the towels Joker left on the floor back to the bathroom to busy himself, and he sighs when he sees Joker's soaked clothes scattered across the floor. Bruce considers leaving them there, but he figures Joker will be out of his hair faster if he'll have his own clothes to put on, so he hangs them out to dry.
Once Bruce is done he flops on the bed with a groan, and he tells himself he's just going to relax for a minute before making sure Joker isn’t about to do anything questionable. He dozes off and he doesn’t hear Joker come in, but he jolts awake when Joker climbs on the bed and pulls the covers over them.
"Get some sleep sweetie," Joker mumbles as he snuggles against Bruce's side. Bruce doesn't have the energy to push him away, so he resigns to his fate and lets Joker pull Bruce’s arm around himself. He falls asleep to the sound of Joker's soft breathing and the warmth of his body pressed against his.
Alfred knows something is going on with Bruce, and Bruce can tell he's trying his hardest not to question him about it. He feels bad for keeping secrets from Alfred, but it's better than telling him about Joker. Tim is suspicious too, but he’s planning to stay at the penthouse to be closer to his school for the week and Bruce is making no objections to that. He can deal with one pair of eyes on him, but two of them is too much.
Bruce touches his lip absently as he stares at the computer screen with unfocused eyes. He can still feel the sting from where Joker bit it almost two weeks ago. He had hoped that after kissing Joker he'd gotten that particular need out of his system, but instead Bruce keeps thinking about it and replaying the moment in his mind over and over again.
He wants to feel Joker’s lips on his own again.
"Master Bruce?" Alfred's concerned voice brings Bruce out of his thoughts and he drops his hand quickly.
"I'm fine, just thinking." Bruce smiles at Alfred before focusing on the computer screen again. Gotham seems to be going through a lull, and though Bruce dreads what will come after it he doesn't mind taking it a little easier for a while and getting some well deserved rest.
Alfred places a cup of tea in front of Bruce and glances at the computer, but he doesn’t comment when he sees the most recent file Arkham has on Joker. Bruce nods his thanks and leans back in his chair with a sigh. His eyes are starting to hurt from staring at the screen for hours and he rubs them to get the burning sensation to stop. He’s been reading Joker’s latest diagnosis for an hour, trying to convince himself the doctors at Arkham know what they’re doing and someday they will find a way to help him, even though they seem to be as clueless as ever.
"Any chance you'll take the night off?" Alfred asks.
"I won't be long," Bruce promises and tries to offer Alfred a reassuring smile. Alfred raises a disbelieving eyebrow and nods slowly. Bruce ignores him in favor of picking up his tea. He takes a gulp and immediately regrets it as the scalding liquid burns his tongue. He doesn't miss the small smirk on Alfred's lips as he walks past Bruce and leaves him to his thoughts.
Bruce finishes his tea before suiting up and heading out on patrol.
He stops a couple of muggings and keeps a close eye on a young kid making his way home through dark alleys, and the routine of it all makes it easy for Bruce to let his mind wander. He does his best to keep Joker out of his mind, but his thoughts keep drifting back to him.
If Bruce is honest he's a bit annoyed Joker hasn't tried to contact him after their kiss, and he keeps worrying he did something wrong. Bruce tries not to think that maybe he should've just gone along with Joker's wishes and kissed him again and seen where it would've taken them.
Except… he knows where that would’ve led him, and he’s not sure he’s ready for that, or even if it’s something he truly wants.
Bruce pushes all thoughts of Joker away from his mind as he stops by GCPD to see if Gordon has anything for him.
"No sign of Joker?" Gordon asks when Bruce lands on the rooftop. Bruce bites his tongue and shakes his head. "Well, here's hoping he's not coming back." Gordon raises his coffee mug.
Bruce frowns in irritation, and he’s glad Gordon can’t see it. He’s not sure why he's not telling Gordon Joker is alive; he could say he's heard a rumor and that would be enough. It’s wrong, but Bruce doesn't care to examine his reasons for protecting Joker too closely. And that is what he's doing: he's protecting Joker. If Gordon thinks Joker is alive he'll start a manhunt and Bruce isn't about to let that happen — at least not yet.
"Who am I kidding?" Gordon sighs before Bruce can say anything. "That clown bounces back from everything like a goddamn rubber ball."
"Maybe he'll bounce back slower this time," Bruce offers. Gordon scoffs and shakes his head. Bruce thinks it’s a good time for him to leave, and he waits until Gordon turns his back before disappearing into the shadows.
Bruce stays out close to sunrise. He had checked the hideouts he knows Joker uses out of principle, but he hadn't found anything, and Bruce makes sure his route back home takes him past Joker’s place in the Newton so that he can check on him without making what he’s doing obvious. The whole building is dark so Bruce can't be sure if Joker is in fact home and there’s no way he’ll go into the apartment to check, but Bruce hopes he's resting and letting himself heal for a change.
Alfred is still awake when Bruce gets home, and he looks too tired for Bruce not to tell him to go to bed.
Bruce goes on about his routine on autopilot, and by the time he's lying in his bed wide awake twiddling with his phone without thinking what he's doing he begins to realize that he might not have as much control over this thing he let Joker drag him into as he thought he did. Bruce looks at the number Joker had used to text him and thinks about calling it or just sending a text asking if he’s alright. He ditches the idea with a scoff; he's not going to give Joker that power over him. Joker will show up when he feels like it, but even as Bruce drops the phone on the nightstand and turns his back to it he can’t help but worry something might be wrong.
Bruce tries not to be concerned about Joker, especially around Alfred, and when there's a mass breakout at Arkham he's almost grateful for it. He just wishes the welcomed distraction didn't come with a body count.
Dick comes from Bludhaven to give Bruce and Tim a hand with the breakout, and Bruce lets him deal with Arkham while he and Tim go after the ones who managed to escape. Bruce leaves catching the less dangerous inmates to the police and Tim, and focuses on tracking down the more dangerous escapees as fast as possible.
Bruce finds Crane after some searching and tries not to smirk as Crane curses like he's suppressing a need to stomp his foot on the ground. Crane doesn't even try to fight as he's handcuffed and delivered to Gordon, and Bruce considers himself lucky to have caught him before he got to his stash of fear toxin; he’s a lot easier to deal with in his Arkham issued washed out jumpsuit than his Scarecrow attire.
"I didn't even do anything yet!" Crane tries one last time as Bruce delivers him into the care of the police.
Bruce manages to track down Tetch and Dent before sunrise, but he loses track of Nygma as the sky begins to turn red, then orange as the sun starts creeping over the horizon. Bruce tells himself that three out of four is good enough as he takes Dent to Arkham that is once again under the control of the staff.
"Maybe you should focus on finding the clown and leave the rest of us in peace," Dent grumbles when Bruce drags him up the steps of Arkham Asylum. Bruce grits his teeth and doesn't say anything, but he's annoyed that Dent had to remind him of Joker just when he'd gotten him out of his mind. "Or maybe you don't want to throw him in here with the rest of us," Dent continues and his voice takes a mocking tone.
Bruce reminds himself that practically everyone knows about Joker's obsessive crush on Batman and sometimes people — especially the criminals — like to rub it in his face or imply it's mutual. Bruce has never been a fan of it, but after what happened the last time he and Joker met it has a whole new sting to it.
Bruce hands Dent over to the guards waiting for them without a word and walks away.
"Hey, what's the hurry?" Dick calls after Bruce as he strides across the paved yard. Bruce doesn't slow down to wait for Dick but he still catches up to him.
"Is something wrong?" Dick asks and eyes Bruce speculatively. "Is it something we can talk about or are you gonna sit in the dark brooding?"
Bruce doesn’t say anything.
"Brooding it is then," Dick concludes with a solemn nod.
Bruce doesn't object when Dick jumps on the passenger seat of the car and chats about his time in Bludhaven. It's nice and familiar, and Bruce lets himself relax a little. Dick says he'll stop by the manor to say hi to Alfred and Tim, and Bruce tells him they’ll be happy to see him.
Alfred is more than happy to have Dick back in the house, and the two of them quickly enter a hushed conversation that Bruce is clearly not welcomed into. Tim comes out of the shower a few minutes later and barely says hi to Bruce before Dick drags him into the conversation as well. Bruce lets them talk and focuses on getting out of his armor before taking a long, hot shower. He'll sleep for a few hours and find Nygma after that, and he'll even make an effort to find Joker for good measure.
Still, despite his efforts Bruce doesn't catch either Joker or Nygma. Instead they are caught by the police a week later when they get into a shootout with the mob in broad daylight, and Bruce follows the ordeal from the news with a mix of disappointment and relief filling him.
Bruce winches in sympathy when Joker kicks one of the officers trying to restrain him in the head; Joker may not look like it, but he packs a hell of a punch, and Bruce knows from experience that Joker kicks harder than he has any right to.
Joker gets dragged away along with Nygma as he screams murder at the people around him while Nygma seems to be bargaining with the officer walking him to a car. Bruce thinks he sees some of Black Mask's men among those being arrested.
"Let's hope we won't be seeing them for a while," Alfred's voice comes from behind Bruce's shoulder. Bruce nods even though he's not sure he agrees; a part of him wishes he could've seen Joker before he got caught, but he's also relieved Joker is back in Arkham so that he can finally breathe more freely.