The Last Laugh

Chapter 23. | Beneath the moon and stars

He would never be able to understand the Bat. Let alone follow his plots and the "logic" in them. He had been a "good" guy for five months now to comprehend his actions but this was too much and by far the most stupid plan and it drove him nuts to the point of losing it completely, punching him straight in the face.

"No way in hell, flying rodent."  Joker hissed, rubbing his knuckles, ready to strike once more. "I'm not leaving them for one second!"

"I need you there. We need you there." Bruce winced and sat by the desk, placing a hand over his swollen jaw, "Seems you missed punching me, Joker."

J laughed darkly, his head thrown back in frustration. The Joker was going back to Arkham, leaving Harley and an unborn Lucy for a month, maybe two. With Daemon locked up possessing vital information about the clown and Batman, the security of the Asylum vulnerable, Bruce had decided having Joker there as a spy and an alibi would help to keep the pirate behind bars.

"And how does your little plan help me? What if I'm sent to Black Gate? Harley and my baby need me here, not there babysitting that son of a bitch!" Joker snarled, throwing all he could find towards the floor causing Bruce a terrible urge to tie him up.

"They will be fine! They are safe here with me and Alf– Argh! Clown, for God's sake Joker stop it!" Bruce was hit by J's boot when he finally ran out of ammunition, the clown's signature laughter filling the batcave as the Bat got up and punched Joker to the ground, holding him still against the floor, his hand on his throat.

They stared at each other angrily for what seemed hours until Joker managed to sigh and raise his hands up in defeat, Bruce's grip untightening from his throat.

"I will do it. But I swear Bats, if anything happens to my girls I will skin you alive and make Alfred a nice coat with it for him to wear on his funeral. Mark. My. Words." he hissed, getting on his feet. Joker watched Bruce as he focused back his attention on the screen filled with Arkham images. Inmates pacing around their cells screaming, doctors walking through the corridors, guards playing cards.

He sighed when the face of a beautiful blonde woman with black glasses and perfect smile flooded his brain and warmed his heart. J cursed under his breath at the thought of being far away from his only reason of living, taken back to the place where it all started. Except his Harleen Quinzel wouldn't be there.

•••

"And just flip it and there you go!" Alfred waved his hand as Harley managed to turn the perfectly cooked omelette with the spatula, placing it on the plate by the counter and burst into giggles.

"I did it! And no one got hurt!" the girl leaned down and hugged Alfred tightly, almost flipping the wheelchair he was sitting on to the side. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Alfred chuckled as he accepted the plate from her and took a bite, a grin of approval drawn on his tired face. He was recovering under Harley's care from the wound Daemon had inflicted. The harlequin was happy, having her old friend back home, alive and loving towards her as always.

Harley and Alfred were having a happy and peaceful breakfast when Joker entered the kitchen, greeted by a cheerful Harley who threw herself into his arms.

"Puddin! I cooked an omelette without burning the kitchen!" she said happily, a frown replacing her giddy mood when she noticed a faint bruise on J's cheek. "Puddin, what's wrong? What happened to your face?"