Disclaimer: Honestly? Who would ever believe I owned this?
As Bruce made his way downstairs the next morning he heard an unusual sound: laughter. Not just any laughter, this was Alfred's seldom heard chuckle.
Thinking the worst- that perhaps the madman he had let into his home had given his intrepid butler a shot of Joker Juice- he rushed into the kitchen and received the biggest surprise of his life. His Butler and Arch Enemy, sitting at the table, looking at pictures and laughing.
Feeling a sense of ease return at not spotting any signs of the Joker's signature venom, he stepped towards the pair.
"What are you looking at?" The pair jumped, clearly not having heard him enter the room. Alfred recovered first, standing and wiping happy tears from his eyes.
"Ah, Master Bruce, we were just looking over some... uh..."
"I took pictures!" Squealed the green-eyed man happily.
Walking over to take a look for himself, Bruce blushed. The Joker HAD taken pictures. Pictures of his most embarrassing moments.
That one there was of the time he had ended up covered in pink paint and glitter. And there, that one, it was when he had been slipping and sliding over a large grease spill. And, oh no, that one there was when he had been tied up and left in an alley- by the time he had finally gotten loose he had six cats sleeping on him!- that had been one of his worst nights.
There were also other shots, he finally noticed. Shots of him as Bruce Wayne.
That time at a party someone had slipped and spilled champagne all down his back. When he was getting out of his car and another motorist splash him in muddy water, just before an important board meeting he remembered.
Oh! And this one! That was at the fundraiser Ivy had overtaken. She had dosed everyone present with a new drug to cause instant inebriation, he still didn't know how he had managed to get home and in bed.
"Whoever you have photographing me is very good. I never noticed anyone following me, let alone taking pictures." He said looking over the small mound of candid shots.
"Thank you! I do love compliments."
"You? But you were nowhere near me most of these times! You couldn't have taken them all. How could you have?" The Joker drew himself up into a snobbish posture.
"Whatever else I may be I am still a professional, and a professional never reveals their secrets." With a quiet sniff of aristocratic disdain, the Clown Prince of Crime maintained his snobbish attitude; for all of ten seconds before succumbing to a fit of giggles.
"I've been stalking you Bats. I've simply gotten good at not being seen when I don't want to be. Now sit down! Mr. Pennyworth here went to a lot of trouble to make us breakfast, and the least we can do is eat it and show appreciation for his skills."
"Please, call me Alfred." Said the butler, setting two trays down on the table.
"If you insist, Alfred." Looking between the two and taking a seat to be served, Bruce continued looking through the stack of photos.
Not all of them were of embarrassing moments, he realized. There were some shots of him being serious or thinking, a few were of the rare moments when he gave a genuine smile, but none showed the fake smile he gave more frequently as Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire.
Taking an absent bite of his breakfast, he found himself returning to the one of him at the fundraiser gone wrong.
"You want to know what happened that night, don't you."
Looking up and into a peaceful gaze(why had he never really noticed how large the mans eyes were?) he gave a nod.
Smirking slightly, and taking another photo from that night in hand, the oddly serene man began:
"I followed you that night- I normally do when I have nothing else going on- then Red showed up. She'd already dosed everyone, but thanks to that chemical bath I can burn through most any drug. They really hate me at Arkham for that; among other things. So by the time everyone was out of it I was once again fine. -"
"So every time I've tranquilized you, you were what? Playing possum?"
"Pretty much. It was the only time I ever got to spend with you when we weren't flailing at each other. May I continue now?" Receiving a nod he flashed a grin and began again.
"As I was saying: the cocktail Red used didn't affect me. So I waited long enough for you to go insensible enough not to remember what was happening, brought you home and put you to bed. End of story." Taking the last bite of his own breakfast(he had been eating through the entire conversation- how had he not choked?) he handed his plate over to the butler with thanks.
"That's not all of it." He couldn't put his finger on why, but he knew there was more to the story. Or else he was just so used to being suspicious of the man that he was unable to take what he said at face value, no matter the truth it might hold.
"Yes it is."
"No it's not. How did you get me past Ivy and her goons? They were sorting everyone by wealth, I would have been the big prize. And just how long have you known my identity? That party was almost five years ago!" Bruce was stunned, he had only just now remembered that detail.
"I've known who you are since... three months? Yeah, three months after our first meeting."
"That long? And you have never tried using my identity against me. Why?" Bruce honestly didn't understand the mans motives in this.
"At first I was planning to use it against you; but that was before I got to know you. I would never do so now!" And in an undertone he added, "There would be no fun in it."
Deciding he would ignore the last, and process everything else later, he attempted to steer their conversation back to topic.
"Alright. But the party. How- exactly- did you get me out of there?"
"Well... fine! But just so you know I did it for your own good!" Bruce did not like the sound of that, but he wanted to know. Taking a sip of his coffee, he motioned to the clown to continue. Letting out a huff of air he did so.
"I went up to Red, said that she had ruined my fun and that if she didn't let me leave with my intended playmate of the night that she would be sorry. She backed off and let me leave with you. I gave her a passing shot, said that I would probably be taking the heat off her as the Batman would most likely come after me and Gotham's playboy of the year."
"That doesn't sound too bad. So where is the catch? You wouldn't be acting this shifty if there wasn't one."
"Well... I may have... left her with the impression that I was going to have my way with you." The last part of that sentence was said in a rush and Bruce could only stare.
Alfred on the other hand had started laughing from his position by the sink. Noticing the glare he was receiving, the butler attempted to pull his face back into a neutral expression.
"You must admit sir, that it was rather effective in gaining your freedom." Turning back to the man in front of him, Bruce had one final question.
"And just how did you explain my lack of filing a police report?"
"I didn't have to. The lack of Batman showing to her event made Ivy believe that he came after me to rescue you. I never corrected her on that score, and she knew what her chemical cocktail would do to your memory so... that's it!"
Bruce just stared, he didn't know what to say. He had been saved- for lack of a better word- by his arch nemesis, and he had never known. What was a vigilante to say to that?
Just as the silence was starting to become uncomfortable, his watch beeped.
"Time for little Brucey to make an appearance in the real world! I'll sit this one out, if you don't mind. I do not believe your professional life would hold any interest for me."
Not wanting to leave Alfred alone with the crazed man, he went to say he wasn't going in when he was overruled.
"Now sir, everything will be fine here. Go on, Bruce Wayne needs to show his face at work."
"Don't worry, Batsy. Alfred and I will just sit back and continue to bond over a few more of Batman's' mishaps." Seeing the manic grin leveled at him, and the far more menacing stern glare directed towards him, he knew he was out voted. Standing from the table, he went to leave for work.
JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER
Bruce rushed through his day. He rescheduled and cancelled everything he could so he would have as much time to spend at home as possible. He really didn't like leaving Alfred home alone with that clown.
Even if they had been getting on well that morning... No! The Joker was a good actor, he could not be trusted! Pushing down that small part of his brain that kept telling him he was lying to himself, Bruce headed home.
Upon arrival everything was quiet. Heading to the kitchen, he suppressed his desire to panic. He didn't want to even think of what might have happened during the day.
"Alfred?" He called, still finding no sign of the man.
"He went to the market." Came a voice from right behind him, causing him to jump and turn towards the threat. The Joker just stood there passively.
"He said something about making a special meal for your house guest."
Taking in the still defensive posture and the newly confused expression, the clown made a guess at the cause and tried to reassure the other man.
"I used to make a lot of noise, back when we first started our dance. But I learned to be quiet, become unnoticeable.
"Which, I might add, is hard to do when you look the way I do.
"After a while I realized my mistake: if you didn't know where I was you couldn't find me. Now, had I been so inclined I could have used that to my advantage- and I have, just never against you- and put an end to our dance."
Giving a look to the still staring man, the Joker turned and headed back the way he came; deliberately making noise this time.
Realizing he was gaping- and not knowing what else to do- Bruce closed his mouth and headed after the other man.
They ended up in the library, the Joker looking for a new book and Bruce setting up his laptop so he could work from home as much as possible. Finally making a selection, the green-haired man sat down next to the unmasked vigilante's desk and began to read.
That was how Alfred found them. The Joker quietly reading and his Master clicking away at his computer.
How domestic, he thought. Now if he could only get his young Master to realize how at ease he was around the man he perceived as his greatest enemy. Their back and forth that morning proved how well they complemented each other.
After all, the old man had always known his young Master could never settle for one of those simpering airheads that clung to his arm at events and such. He needed someone with a personality as strong as his own, and the clown provided that in spades.
Perhaps the romantic dinner he had planned for that evening would shake some sense into the boy.
He had no worries about the Joker on that front. Anyone could see the complete devotion the man had for his Batsy. The hard part would be getting his Master to see past his trust issues to what was being offered.
With a quiet sigh, he left and headed to his kitchen. He would do what he could for them, he only hoped the Joker was up for the challenge he had set himself.