Bruce wasn't quite sure exactly what he had expected from the younger Harley Quinn but sitting in the dark drinking cocoa at midnight wasn't part of the image. He knew that there was a different person beneath the greasepaint and the jester outfit. The changes were subtle but more noticeable over time. He had thought her completely lost to the Joker up until that night she had confessed that she was pregnant. The thought of the Joker having reproduced was a difficult one to grasp and it was troublesome to him. It brought into consideration the question of nature over nurture. Would this unborn child become a degenerate, was it in their genes or was there an opportunity for a more normal existence? Well, as normal an existence as could be offered in a place such as Gotham City.
Her time spent at the Manor was definitely improving her, or so he had thought. She had stopped wearing the greasepaint and the jester suit had disappeared too. Alfred had purchased a selection of clothes for her on Bruce's behalf and she had accepted them with something that almost resembled grace, for her at least. Bruce had it on good authority that when Alfred had delivered the clothes to her she had snorted and then smiled slightly, shaking her head with her hands on her hips in mock disapproval. The paint had disappeared when she had started wearing the clothes and Bruce had to admit, she was still a beautiful woman underneath despite the ravaging days of living with the Joker. She liked to tie her hair up in a messy ponytail with a few strands of blonde hair always finding their way out of the hairband and framing her face. If the circumstances had been different, Bruce would have been drawn to her. She had a good sense of humour. Bruce knew that Alfred didn't approve of her presence but Bruce knew in his bones now that he could never have turned her away because she really was worth saving.
Bruce's thoughts had once again turned to the intriguing blonde as he sat in his study, a glass of wine sitting untouched on the table beside him. He had spent many, many hours of thoughtful contemplation in this study and Alfred always knew that he could find Bruce ruminating at 3am in the morning. He always left the glass of wine for Bruce, something that he very rarely allowed himself to indulge in. The glass was always there, almost hopefully. Bruce glanced at it and he stretched his fingers out against the upholstery on the arms of his chair, considering reaching out for the glass and partaking of the wine. He didn't tend to drink much in the way of alcohol, it dulled the senses too much and his tongue definitely became looser when he drank. Bruce couldn't afford to let that happen, not very often at least. Tonight, was one of those nights though where his resolve was weak.
There was the sound of a door opening with care and then closing softly with a click. Bruce looked up at Alfred, almost half expecting it to be Harley Quinn. There was a small note of disappointment deep within him as Alfred approached and not Harley Quinn.
"Contemplating our unusual guest Master Wayne?" Alfred asked, drawing closer to Bruce. He frowned slightly at the glass before looking directly at Bruce, his lips pressed together in a severe line.
"Amongst other things." Bruce responded, not really offering any further information than was necessary. After having lived a fairly solitary lifestyle, Bruce sometimes found it difficult to open up even to Alfred. Alfred was patient though and willing to slowly chip away at the walls surrounding his charge, even if he had to do it at least twice a week. Sometimes Bruce was more forthcoming but tonight was going to be a difficult night, Alfred could feel it.
"She is rather perplexing is she not?" Alfred asked, moving to sit in the armchair opposite Bruce. Bruce's response was a fairly non-committal noise and Alfred resisted the urge to sigh.
"I take it you have recently discovered her nightly cocoa ritual?" Alfred asked, moving the conversation to simpler questions.
"I didn't realise she drank cocoa in the dark." Bruce answered truthfully. He had been so busy recently dealing with the usual dregs of crime but also keeping an ear to the ground for information on Joker's activities. There hadn't been many whispers and this in itself was concerning to Bruce. He'd have expected to hear something and the silence unnerved him. Silence never usually unnerved him but when it was concerning the Joker, it was very much the calm before the storm. Bruce wasn't expecting a siege of Wayne Manor but he was expecting something.
"She has many peculiarities, including her affinity for calling me Al." As concerned as Bruce was, he couldn't help the upward twitch of his lips at the disdain in Alfred's voice.
"I take it she was a fan of married with children when she was growing up." There was a note of amusement in Bruce's voice and as unimpressed as Alfred was with her abbreviating his name, he had to admit that it was wonderful to see Bruce beginning to smile again, a real smile not forced upon him by formality.
"I tried to impress upon her the proper use of my name but she threatened to call me Fred instead." Alfred's tone was dry and Bruce couldn't stop the smile breaking out across his face at the image of Harley calling him Fred.
"I take it Al is more agreeable to you then." Bruce was content to push his concerns to the side and enjoy this moment with Alfred. Harley's presence in Wayne Manor was causing a change to come over both of them. Bruce could see it and, looking into Alfred's eyes, he could see that he wasn't the only one.
Alfred nodded and Bruce relaxed slightly in his seat, allowing his back to fall flush against the upholstery.
"Have you enjoyed having company Alfred?" Bruce asked in a conversational manner, his hand drifting towards the wine glass. He plucked it from the table and Alfred tried not to allow his pleasure to show too noticeably.
"In a manner of speaking." Alfred replied, not willing to admit that her presence had been like a refreshing breeze in the halls of the Manor. He had some form of company while he was going about his daily business and, unlike Bruce, she was more inclined to laugh and bright a light heartedness to situations.
"You've had more time to keep an eye on her Alfred, how has she been since she arrived here?" Bruce asked seriously. Alfred was silent for a few moments, debating how much he should tell his charge.
"Not as I expected." The answer was simple but there was a lot of depth to it, a lot of things to be considered. Alfred could tell Bruce everything he wanted to know or he could encourage the younger man to find out for himself. There might be some benefit to it for all of them.
"Do you think she will settle here?" Bruce asked, swilling the wine in the glass slightly, looking into its dark depths as though it held the answers to every question he could possibly ask.
"How long is she going to be staying here for Master Wayne?" He returned the question with another question, an important one. He had only expected her to stay with them until she had, had the child but beyond that, he hadn't considered the possibilities.
"I don't know Alfred; I didn't think that far ahead." Bruce admitted, resisting the urge to run his fingers through his hair. Instead, he took a sip of the wine and Alfred's pleasure was barely concealed. "I don't know where she is going to go after the birth. Has she said anything to you Alfred?" Bruce asked quietly, his brain beginning to turn over the problem.
Alfred shook his head and sighed. That gave Bruce all the answer that he needed. He put the glass of wine back on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.
"She speaks of many things but neither the Joker or her unborn child are among them." Alfred simply confirmed what Bruce had already known; he was going to have to speak to her about it himself. It wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation but it was something that needed to be done. Bruce wanted to stay away from her. He didn't want to spend too much time in her presence because the urge would rise within him to try and pull her back to the light so as to speak. She wasn't going to be his pet project, he wasn't going to save her, only she could do that. Or could you do it? Hmm, are you not already doing it? Bruce sighed and stared at the carpeted floor in front of him, falling into a silence that told Alfred that the conversation was over.
Alfred rose to his feet and walked towards the door, pausing next to Bruce and placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. He squeezed, saying nothing and walked out of the door, leaving Bruce alone to his thoughts.