Bruce Wayne: richest man in Gotham, most eligible bachelor and devastatingly handsome. Well, to most women anyway.
Said man was sitting quietly in his library—resting, thinking, wondering...questioning just how Harley Quinn had managed to take down the Clown Prince of crime. It had been quiet since Joker's death and no one had even seen a shadow of Harley. It was like she had just disappeared into thin air the moment Joker's heart had stopped beating.
Bruce, more like Batman, had discovered Joker's body, or Harley had delivered the Joker to him herself without even being noticed. There Joker had sat tied up in an old, rickety wooden chair next to the Bat signal. How Harley managed to do that on her own, Bruce would never be certain. The Joker had obviously been cleaned up, no blood on his clothes that surely should have been soaked due to the bullet wound that decorated his skull. His face had brand new make up, his body clothed in a brand new tailored suit and a note pinned to his jacket that asked for Batman to make sure the Joker had received the proper burial.
Bruce, under his usual guise of Batman had arranged the burial as asked in hopes that Harley would show, but she didn't come into sight and the only people who had attended the funeral were fanatical people who only mourned that their hero was dead. Not even the crime bosses of Gotham were stupid enough to fall into Batman's trap and he supposed that should have told him enough that Harley would never show up. She had revealed herself as a cunning woman.
Now Bruce sat in turmoil, a burning cigar long forgotten in a crystal ash tray. This was something he had never expected, something he had never planned for. He had long ago accepted the fact that Joker would always come out on top, but the Joker had granted him a small spot of positive light in the public eye. But Harley, now that he was finally seeing her, he knew that she would not grant him the same gift. For the first time in his life, Bruce wished that the Joker was alive and kicking.
If Bruce had known this would happen, he would have jumped up as Batman and ended Harley's life the first moment he had had the chance, guilt be damned. Sometimes, despite how much he never wanted it to come to it, killing was the only option. He had been openly criticized by many about his undeserved mercy and he was just now starting to see what the population meant. Whenever Harley decided to strike, because Bruce knew she would strike, it would the most devastating thing Gotham would ever see and he was fairly certain his life was in actual danger without the Joker around.
His mind had a hard time processing it all. How could such a small, bubbly, insane woman do all this damage? How could she, of all people, manage to tear everything apart. It really amazed him how such a slip of a woman could cause him so much fear. She was showing him, in her own way, that everything he thought about life, about Gotham, about the Joker—had been a complete lie. She was proving to him that you didn't have to be in the spotlight to cause problems. She had never been in the spotlight, she had always just been shadowed by the Joker, and yet here she was, causing him the most frustration and panic than anyone had ever done.
He had come across her more than once, bleeding and broken, body so bruised that even the slightest breeze made her cry out in pain. The cause of her state had always been the Joker, and yet he could never figure out why she went scurrying back to the Clown Prince, why she forgave him so easily. Now, he did.
It became crystal clear why she stuck around, or at least partly. She had planned to kill the Joker the entire time she was with him. Bruce wasn't sure if Harley loved the Joker or not, and he probably would never know unless he talked to her personally, but he doubted that there would be a moment with her where he could just speak freely with her. It was likely that he would be dying should she ever decide to present herself to him.
The Joker had gained his respect and appreciation within his hours of thinking, because the Joker had been the only thing keeping him safe from the less than obvious danger—Harley Quinn.
