A/N: It was done, so enjoy :DDD
Batman POV
He hated these lengthy affairs he went through in order to keep the charade going.
It was tiring to pretend to be this person, this playboy millionaire juvenile everyone thought he was.
It was tiring going on superficial dates, attending superficial luncheons, and it was especially tiring pretending he was dumb as rocks. At board meetings he used every ounce of intelligence in completing his façade, texting during important announcements, even answering fake phone calls from "women" (usually Alfred) right in the middle of them, much to the chagrin of the board members with none of them more the wiser. He absorbed as much popular culture as he could on a daily basis, rubbing his temple to alleviate the migraine he felt at the inane trends people followed. It didn't matter that he was a bonafide genius; he couldn't ever show it while he traipsed around Gotham as Bruce Wayne. It had taken him and Alfred months to perfect this pseudo being and it worked very well.
The only time he employed his intellect was when making decisions that would affect his city. Bruce took extra care to keep the city safe and to the surprise of everyone who "knew" him, his choices exceeded expectations.
Take tonight for instance.
The Children's Defense Fund of Gotham committee he was Chair of, organized a fundraiser in order to open a new shelter for the orphans. In his characteristic show of generosity, Bruce offered his home as the venue for a ball to give the upper crust society the chance to let their hair down and boast to each other about their latest material acquisitions for a great cause. He pegged their reactions before it even happened. Nina Sharp, wife to Mayor Sharp, clapped her hands in delight and he could practically smell the jealousy she hid underneath her smiling exterior. Bruce smothered a grin as he walked away and heard Nina coo to Anna Smith, co-host on The Vicki Vale Show, about how she couldn't wait to tell her friends about the atrocious décor his old style home was sure to have.
Regardless of the petty behavior he had come to expect from most of the well off families of Gotham, he knew the turnout would be very lucrative for the CDF benefit, especially since he would anonymously donate a seven figure sum. Plus, it's not like anyone turned down a party at Wayne Manor.
As he arrived home from his office at Wayne Enterprises three hours before the festivities began, he was once again awed by what unlimited resources could achieve in just a couple of hours. It also helped if butler extraordinaire Alfred Pennyworth was your right hand man. Bruce declined Alfred's offer to take his coat and jacket with a light pat on the older man's shoulder, and instead walked up the gorgeous double staircase. He always marveled at the four minutes and twenty two seconds it took for him to reach his bedroom suite, first coming to the small receiving area he'd decorated himself with a deep forest green love seat and black wood coffee table that had two doors, one leading to a bathroom equally large, and the other leading to his massive master bedroom.
He laid his coat and suit jacket over the arm of the loveseat and loosened his tie as he made his way to his bedroom, flicking on a light switch as he entered. Without the several studio lights the switch activated, his room would be pitch black save for the lone circular window above his bed. He pulled off his royal blue tie and sat down on the edge of his bed, his head tilted as he thought.
Was it just last night?
He looked around his room for evidence of the steamy encounter he'd had with the alabaster skinned woman known as Harley Quinn. Slowly he turned his head, scanning first the bookcase that covered the secret passageway she had come through, then the hardwood floors and then the end of his bed. Right under his feet, almost hidden out of sight was the edge of a red shirt. Without thinking or realizing he'd reached for it, he found himself smelling it and breathed in deeply. Faintly he could make out the generic scent of soap, wisps of the fabric softener Alfred used, and there, almost completely forgotten among the cotton threads, was the smell of her. A sweet, almost flowery fragrance mingled with just a touch of sex.
His cock hardened at the aroma and he sneered at the feel of it, dropping the shirt back on the floor where he found it as he stood and undressed. Bruce's erection throbbed as it was freed from the confined restraints of his slacks and he groaned as his hand came into contact with it. He gently held his length in his grasp, remembering the slick warmth of Harley Quinn as he stroked it once and shuddered at the memory. After a few moments had passed and he collected himself, he released his penis and walked to his closet. He contemplated on wearing blue over grey, but smirking at his still rock hard cock, he chose a steel grey pinstriped suit, complemented by checkered white and black silk tie. He hung his choices on a hook reserved for such things before lying down and forcing himself to get some sleep before the party began. His sleep was restless and he found himself having dreams of red and black and sex. Alfred knocked lightly on his door, waking him from his light slumber in time to shower and dress.
He met Alfred at the base of the stairs and was informed of several guests' arrival. He smiled and nodded curtly, straightening his tie as he made his way to the grand ballroom. Pausing briefly to force himself to don the persona he worked hard to maintain, Bruce plastered on the grin that melted hearts and entered the double doors.
He made the rounds, once, twice, all the while pretending to guzzle champagne. In no time one hour passed and he made the expected passes at the single women in attendance. Two hours passed and he grew bored, sharing pained looks with Alfred as he ushered in new guests. Bruce had just been breaking away from the clutches of a newly single ex-"girlfriend" when he spotted Harley.
She looked stunning, and even without a light upward twitch of the eyebrows from Alfred, he would have recognized her anywhere. Her tall willowy figure was sheathed in a simple black dress that hung almost to her knees but when she turned to thank Alfred, he lost his breath. The back was completely open almost all the way down to the sensuous curve of her bottom. She had stuffed her medium length blonde hair under a scarlet wig that fell right under her ears and he was hard pressed to wrench his gaze from her shapely legs, legs he remembered quite vividly as they had wrapped themselves around his waist not even 24 hours prior. He made his way toward her, thankful her attention was elsewhere and maneuvered himself in such a way, she'd have no choice but to bump into him as she turned. Sure enough, as she moved her drink spilled onto his arm and she hurriedly grabbed a napkin to dab at it lightly.
"Oh, dear, I apologize Mister…?"
She had adopted a very believable Southern accent and he couldn't help but grin at her when she tossed her hair as she looked up at him, those bright, cerulean eyes meeting his much darker cobalt blue. She returned his smile and his grin grew wider when he detected no hint of recognition in her eyes.
Oh, this would be fun.
He made sure his movements were the sloppy ones of a buzzed individual as he took a soft hand in his and kissed it, winking at her as he did so. Such an action would appear gentlemanly and silly, which was precisely how he wanted to seem to his crowded room full of party guests.
"Please. Call me Bruce. And you are?"
She tucked a bit of red hair behind her ear and when she bashfully looked away, he wanted to kiss every light freckle he saw dot her nose.
"Sandra Clare."
Sandra Clare? He wondered who that could have been. He filed it away for later and stuck out a crooked elbow.
"Well, Miss Clare, would you like to see the balcony?"
She let loose a tinkly laugh and accepted his arm, blushing as she did so.
"I would love to."
Bruce felt a sense of pride as many of the party guests watched them with their mouths open. Criminal though she was, Harley was breathtaking tonight and clearly wanted by half of the male attendees. He surreptitiously took note of the room and immediately recognized 4 thugs associated with the Joker (but oddly, no sign of the Joker himself), Edward Nigma, Oswald and his entourage, and even Harvey Dent, failing to hide in the shadowed corners. He scoffed inwardly and touched a finger to his watch, activating the house security system, which immediately locked all windows and doors, and the cameras hidden in every light bulb. He kept up a steady chatter, inflecting his voice with drunken lilts here and there, about the most random of things: the extravagantly tiled floor, the gilded candelabra, anything he could think of. He tried to watch her out of the corner of his eye, gauging the various emotions that flitted across her face, wondering at the mystery of her.
Everyone knew her tale. The young, brilliant psychologist, given the opportunity of a lifetime while employed at Arkham Asylum, only to fall in love with the most dangerous criminal. Bruce had always been curious as to how the Joker manipulated and broke her and why such a promising doctor had fallen for his schemes. He couldn't fathom what made her love him. As they neared the balcony doors, Alfred tapped on Bruce's shoulder and he excused clumsily from her side for just a moment. His butler had noticed his more dangerous guests as well, as could be expected from one who knew everything he did. Bruce quickly laid out a plan of action in case things went bad, which he was sure would happen as the night continued. He returned to Harley's side, lightly palming her elbow as he gestured toward the glass doors. She smiled at him and arm in arm, they walked to the wide, open balcony, happy in the cool night air. She rested her back on the stone balustrade and he felt naked under her gaze as her red hair fluttered in the breeze.
"This is quite the beautiful home you have here, Bruce."
He took a few steps closer, the lure of her almost too much to bear and he caught a whiff of a familiar lemony scent mingled with that light flowery aroma he linked with Harley. He spoke softly, forcing her to lean in to hear his words.
"Why, thank you darling. You only add to its beauty, if I might say so. I would also like to extend my thanks for attending my little gathering."
He couldn't tear his eyes from her soft, pink lips and he gently leaned in, kissing her with repressed want and lust.
"Anything for the children," she purred as he abandoned all caution and sucked on her bottom lip as the kiss ended. He intended to pull away, to not lose himself completely in this moment but her hands snaked their way up his shoulders and entangled themselves into his perfectly coiffed hair, mussing up the strands.
In a rare moment of crudeness he muttered, "Fuck it" and lifted her so she sat on the wide stone rail of the balcony, careful to wrap one arm around her tiny waist and the other resting not so innocently above her knee. This time she initiated the kiss, her mouth opening up to his fully and he suddenly did feel drunk and dizzy. He immediately went on guard and broke the kiss until the disorientation passed. Outwardly he smiled lazily at her and after a few moments, leaned back down and kissed her softly, sensually and he let his hand venture upwards ever so slightly.
"Sandra," he whispered against her lips. "Would you like to see more of the house?"
Bruce knew this a tricky hand to play. He would be away from most of the party and would be at a disadvantage if all hell broke loose but he would be able to get information from Harley Quinn if he played his cards right. His number one target would be the Joker and since she failed to recognize him as Batman, he knew she hadn't come alone. He kissed her again and slid his hand under her dress and softly touched the edge of her panties, fingering the delicate lace he felt. She bit her lip and just when he thought she'd turn him down, she smiled at him.
"I'd love to, Bruce. Let me just freshen up and I'll meet you by that small tub you call a punch bowl."
She winked at him and left him speechless by the balcony. Bruce took the few minutes she was away to analyze the movements of his enemies. He glanced to the left and noticed Edward had slouched down into a chair, the delicate flute of champagne he held in his left hand dangling dangerously. He noted the red face and the overall disheveled look of him and guessed he was legitimately drunk and would be a minimal nuisance. He turned his attentions to the back of the room and didn't find a single trace of Harvey. Interesting. He lifted his chin minutely at Alfred when he caught his gaze and scanned the room for Penguin, keeping track of the four henchmen who were thankfully wrapped up in their partners. It took him mere seconds to hear the boisterous laughs coming from a small crowd of party goers in the north end of the room and knew everyone was accounted for save Dent and the Joker.
Just as he was about to activate the security system around the large safe in the foyer, Harley returned from the restroom and pressed something red and lacy into his hand. Bruce looked down and felt a tingle run through his entire body.
