It's clear to Bruce that Junior wants something. Junior is hovering just outside the door to Bruce's office, barely visible except for a few tufts of green hair and the occasional glimpse of a too-pale set of fiddling fingers. But Junior hasn't gotten up the courage yet to ask.

So Bruce waits patiently, looking back down at his computer. He returns to working through the files he has on the Joker, cross-examining for any hint at how Joker could have had a kid, any hint at how Joker could have turned that kid into a replica of himself. To the current moment, Bruce has been working off of the assumption that the Joker has a secret "normal" identity, one Bruce has never been able to find. The fact that Junior exists is both a support and a hindrance to that assumption. On one hand, Junior looks so much like Joker, right down to the scarred skin around his mouth, so maybe Joker really does look the way he does all the time. That would make it hard to have a secret identity. On the other hand, Junior had to come into existence somehow, and even Harley Quinn had barely known that Junior existed. So maybe the Joker has a secret identity away from villainy and that's how he had a child. However-

At the sound of a shoe scuffing the ground, Bruce cuts off his theorizing. He looks up and sees those bare glimpses of Junior at the doorway disappear from sight.

Bruce stands and heads for the door, cursing himself for not acting sooner. Of course Junior hesitated too long, of course Junior needed help to get started in asking for what he wanted, of course Bruce should've stepped in. "Junior?"

No response.

Bruce walks out the door and almost walks right into Junior, who's frozen a few steps from the doorway. Catching himself before he can bump Junior, Bruce says gently, "Hi there."

Junior ducks his head and whispers, "Hi."

"I saw you hanging out outside my office," Bruce begins.

Junior ducks his head further.

"Did you want something?" Bruce tries to prompt him.

Junior shakes his head.

Bruce holds back a sigh. Sighing seems to imply to Junior that he isn't being "right" enough. "All right then."

Tentatively, Junior asks, "Is there anything you want from me?"

Bruce automatically starts to respond in the negative, not wanting Junior to feel that Junior's there for Bruce's use in any way. Then he stops and thinks about it. Maybe there's something he can do here to help. He says, "Would you be willing to spend time with me while I work?"

Junior nods. It looks automatic, but his lips start to upturn just a tiny bit.

Bruce nods back. He steps back into his office, Junior close on his heels. Bruce sits at his desk and pats his lap.

"I get to sit with you?" Junior asks quietly, looking awestruck.

"Of course you can," Bruce says, patting his lap again.

Gingerly, Junior climbs onto the chair and then onto Bruce's legs.

Bruce lets him shift around for a minute to get comfortable. Once Junior stills, Bruce moves back toward his computer. Then he pauses.

Bruce looks down at Junior, then at his computer, which is currently on a screensaver and not showing his Joker research. Then Bruce carefully nudges the computer closed, brushes it aside, and starts filing through Wayne Enterprises paperwork.

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, Bruce signing things that need to be signed, Junior gradually leaning more and more into Bruce's chest. It's comfortable for the most part.

Then Alfred comes in, carrying some window cleaning supplies.

Junior jolts upright and starts to climb down off of Bruce's lap.

"Wait," Bruce says reflexively.

Junior freezes, half-off, half-on. He blinks up at Bruce, looking startled and unsure.

"Is everything all right?" Alfred asks, setting his supplies down on the side table closest to the windows.

Junior looks back and forth between Alfred and Bruce.

Bruce takes a guess. "If you're worried about Alfred not wanting you to sit on my lap, it's okay. You can sit with me."

Junior keeps looking back and forth.

"Or if you'd like to help-" Alfred began.

"I have to," Junior says immediately.

Alfred and Bruce exchange concerned glances.

"You have to help?" Bruce asks.

"It's what I'm supposed to do," Junior says simply. "I need to do what's right and be useful and do work for anybody who's over me."

Alfred and Bruce exchange another set of concerned glances.

"To be certain, it's good to be helpful," Alfred begins, choosing each word with clear care. "However, no one here is 'over' you."

Junior frowns slightly, the scars at his cheeks creasing in a way that looks painful.

"We work together here," Alfred says. "No one person is subordinate to another person. We may have differing tasks or schedules or views, but we are a family and we work together."

Junior blinks at Alfred uncertainly, frowning still, but he leans back into Bruce a little.

Bruce carefully shifts Junior back into his lap fully. Wrapping his arms lightly around Junior, Bruce repeats, "We are a family and we work together."

"Family?" Junior whispers. "Does, does that-"

"That does indeed include you," Alfred says with certainty.

Junior still looks confused. "So I don't help you?"

"You may help me if you wish, but it is far from being a necessity," Alfred says. "I do welcome assistance, but on this occasion, I believe it would be better for you to see that you do not need to be considered useful to be considered family."

"Oh," Junior says softly. He sounds a mix of emotions: confused, relieved, and maybe even a little pained, but his frown has disappeared. He leans into Bruce's chest again, and he even wraps his own little arms around Bruce in turn as he watches Alfred begin to clean the windows.

"Thanks, Alfred," Bruce says, hoping Alfred knows both reasons Bruce is thanking him.

Alfred looks back with a smile. "Of course."