AN: Not sure whether this is headcanon or the achingly inevitable 'what if'. Triggers for domestic violence. Title and idea from the 10 Years song of the same name.
Johanna Crane-Raw meat's creepy. I am not 'grumpy', child. You have your moments, love. I do not. Yes you do. Humph.
News travels fast in Gotham. Maybe it travels fast in all big cities. Jonathan Crane will never know.
What he does know, and what he doesn't completely believe, is that Harleen Quinzel-Harley Quinn-is dead.
He heard it from the Riddler, who got it from Ivy, who got it from one of Joker's henchman. It was inevitable-that silly little fool was firmly in denial about her precious puddin'. And look what undying loyalty had gotten her-beaten to death with a crowbar.
Idiot.
He takes a sip of his tea and realizes that Edward is waiting for him to say something.
"Shame."
"Yes." The man looks a little unsettled. Secretly, Jonathan can't blame him. Harley may have been a fool, and she may have been annoying,
No more, 'HEYA DOC!'
but this…expected or not, this is very strange. It'll be strange to do business with Joker without having to hiss, "Don't touch that, you idiot! Do you want to blow us all up?"
Remember remember how upset we were when she really did blow something up never again no more.
"Did Batman catch him?"
"No."
That's a little surprising. Maybe Bats is getting old.
Maybe they all are.
"When was this?"
"Last night."
Where was he last night…you know, he can't remember. Does it matter?
Remember, remember, the fifth of November…
"Shame." he says again. "I'm not surprised."
Edward's smile is humorless.
"Is anybody?"
He doubts it. They all knew. They all tried, to some extent, to knock some sense into her.
He knocked it into her, didn't he?
"No." he says. The steam from the tea fogs his glasses and he takes them off to clear them. "If they are, then they're an idiot."
Edward says nothing. Jonathan settles back into his armchair, feeling stiff and tired. He might go to bed early. That sounds nice. Have some leftover lo-mein and a nice bath and go to bed. He has to shave, actually…and there's that subject downstairs, maybe he should feed him…
"I should go." Edward says suddenly. "I have a trap to finish setting up. Reverse-motion-activated bombs."
"What?"
"It's brilliant, it really is. I strap the bombs on, and they can't stop walking or they'll go off!"
What on…and they call him crazy. At least he does this for science. Edward just wants the attention.
"I'll watch the news."
"For what?"
"News of your capture." He fights to keep a straight face and fails horribly. "Good luck."
"I won't be captured. Not this time."
"That's what we all say."
Edward scowls and leaves the lair. Still smirking, Jonathan settles back with his tea and his book.
Life goes on.
THE END