Not Done Yet

"Beth Kendall here, how can I help you?" The pretty blonde school teacher had been summoned out of class for a phone call in the principal's office.

"Miss Kendall? Hello, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce Wayne?" Beth frowned. Of course she knew the name, he was in the papers all the time, but why would such a man be calling her? “You mean, ‘the’ Bruce Wayne?”

"Yes, sadly, we haven't met, but I was given your name as a contact for the local Parent/Teacher initiative. I have some charitable funds earmarked for education and I was hoping we could meet to discuss an idea I have."

"Oh! Well, certainly. That… that would be wonderful." Beth scrabbled around for something to write with as she tried to maintain a calm demeanor. She gestured at Anne, the secretary, who handed her a pen and a scrap of paper.

"What would be a good time for you?"

"Uh--well, my son has soccer practice after school today, so--"

"Perfect, I'll meet you at the ball field."

"Really?" A billionaire willing to go to a kid's soccer practice? Crazy.

"Sure, we can chat while your son plays."

"Uh--ok, that would be great."

Beth gave Bruce the address of the soccer field and hung up the phone. She stood there with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Everything all right?" Anne asked.

"Uh-huh. Bruce Wayne wants to meet with me about the Parent/Teacher project."

"Bruce Wayne, the billionaire? Get out of here."

"No, really. He's meeting me at Ethan's practice after school."

Anne stared at her with her mouth open.

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"Wow! You better go home right now."

Beth cocked her head. "Why?"

"Girl, you have to look good. That man is rich and single--this could be your big chance!"

Beth laughed. "Oh, for heaven's sake. He's got a dozen supermodels and ballerinas on the string at any given time, he wouldn't look twice at me."

"Stranger things have happened, honey. I'd hit the mall for a complete makeover if I were you."

"That's ridiculous, and anyway, I don't have time."

"Well, you're going to change clothes, aren't you?"

"What's wrong with these?" Beth glanced down at her skirt and blouse and sensible shoes.

Anne rolled her eyes. "They're fine. Billionaires love schoolmarms."

"This is who I am. What do you want me to do, put on an evening gown and high heels to climb up the bleachers? Oh, crap, I've got to get back to class. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"At least put on some freakin' lipstick!" Anne called to the retreating figure. She shook her head. "Some people have all the luck."

***

Bruce hung up the phone and looked at Rachel as she walked in. "I'm meeting her at Ethan's soccer practice."

"Oh, Bruce, good Lord. How do you think you're going to have this conversation at a place like that?"

"What would you suggest? Where's a good place to tell a woman that her ex-husband-the-homicidal-maniac wants to have his son visit him in an institution for the criminally insane?"

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re bothering. The court will send her a notice. She really doesn’t have any choice.”

Bruce sighed.

***

It had been six weeks since the Joker had been reinstated in Arkham. They had followed Rachel’s plan carefully—Bruce had created an authentically beaten and ligature-marked Joker, which had led to a frantic round of sex in which they nearly decided to just leave the country together and forget the whole thing. But Bruce had somehow managed to get control of the situation and put them back on track.

He’d dressed as Batman, clamped a pair of cuffs on the Joker’s wrists, and drove him straight to Arkham.

Perhaps it was sheer relief at getting the Joker back into custody that smoothed the way, but both the police and the Arkham staff bought the story. Bruce Wayne later appeared and made sure Dr. Schwartz was still available to oversee the Joker’s treatment—the man was pathetically happy to have him back—and through it all the Joker had woodenly cooperated. The only clue to his feelings was the disquieting way he stared at Bruce.

Bruce had waited until they had the Joker placed in a locked ward and then he’d quietly bribed the attendant to let him see him.

He was sitting on the bed wearing white patient’s garb. The last glow of sunset had shone on his scarred face as he gazed blankly out the barred window. Bruce had sat down next to him and wrapped his arms around him. He was stiff and silent and distant.

“It’s going to be ok,” Bruce had whispered. “They’ll get you back on the right meds, get the treatment plan going again. You’ll feel better in no time. Then we’ll work on getting Ethan here to see you. Think about it, Jack—seeing your little boy again. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Numbly, the Joker had nodded. Entering Arkham’s gates, he’d wanted to die. But somehow, as always, Bruce knew just what to say to make him think that that was wrong, that he wanted to live. That he had something to live for. He’d put one hand on Bruce’s arm and squeezed. Bruce had kissed him and left him, promising to be back the next day.

And, now, six weeks later, things were going better than Bruce had hoped. The doctors’ reports were all encouraging, and the Joker himself had begun to smile and joke when Bruce came to see him. Bruce had learned his lesson from before and made time to visit him regularly. So much so that the nurses again had taken to letting him come and go as he pleased. They quickly learned to turn a deaf ear to the late-night howls and shrieks of pleasure that often erupted from behind the Joker’s locked door, and to hide their smiles when Bruce Wayne would finally emerge with a goofy grin on his face, fastidiously straightening his rumpled clothes.

Everything was going better than expected, and then one day the Joker had said, “So—when do I get to see my kid?”

Bruce’s heart had sunk. Rachel had petitioned the judge for a court order, and with the positive reports coming from the doctors, she was sure it would come through any day.

But Bruce had cringed at the thought of the poor woman—the mother of the Joker’s child—learning that her dangerous ex was not only demanding to see his son, but had the backing of the Gotham legal system behind him. It would have to be a shock, and would surely be traumatic for the boy to see his mother so upset.

So, Bruce had decided to visit her.

He’d asked Rachel to do it, or at least to go with him, but ethically, she couldn’t. She’d stared at him in dismay when he announced that he would go alone, and they'd been wrangling over the idea for two days...

***

Rachel took one last stab at discouraging Bruce from his unwise decision.

“Bruce, what do you hope to accomplish? She doesn’t know you, and I can’t imagine that it will help for her to know that Gotham’s most famous billionaire is on the Joker’s side. You’ll only intimidate her more.”

“I suspect that the woman who married the Joker isn’t one to be easily intimidated,” Bruce pointed out with a smile. “As I've said, I just want to talk to her, tell her about Jack, how he is today. Try to ease her mind and let her know that he’s not going to hurt her or Ethan.”

“I doubt there’s anything you can say or do that will make her believe that.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully, then spoke, as if to himself. “She’s the only person in the world who knew Jack before… She must have loved him, once. I think she’ll be ok with it once she sees that he’s doing so well.”

Rachel watched Bruce’s face. “Oh--I get it now. You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing this for you!”

“What?”

“You want to assure yourself that you’re not crazy, don’t you? For loving the Joker? You see her as a kindred spirit, and—“

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Rachel held her tongue, but shook her head. Bruce looked at her uncomfortably. “All right, I may have ulterior motives. To be honest, I’d like to meet the boy. After all, it’s possible one day he’ll be my stepson.”

Rachel’s eyes widened.

“Oh, God. Why is it every time I talk to you lately I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole?”

“Bear with me, Rachel. I’m just trying to do the right thing. And don’t you agree that if I can establish some sort of relationship with Beth ahead of time, she’ll be less inclined to fight the situation? Won’t that be better for everyone?”

“I—yes, of course. But just remember—money can’t buy everything.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“If you’re planning to bribe her into cooperating, you may find you just make things worse.”

Bruce gave her an annoyed frown. “Believe it or not, I do know that. I just want to talk to her.”

“Ok. Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks. Your faith in me is heartwarming.”

Rachel broke into a wide grin. “I do have complete faith in your ability to be a top-notch bullshit artist. Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Bruce nodded and gave her a quick hug.

“There’s a lot at stake here. Not the least of which is the safety of Gotham.”

Rachel stared questioningly.

“If Beth turns Ethan against Jack ahead of time, he’ll have no motivation to stay in Arkham, to stay in treatment. He’ll escape again and God only knows what would happen then.”

“Good point. Ok, lay on the charm. I’ll think positive thoughts for you.”

“Much appreciated. Now--what does one wear to a soccer field?”

“Considering the conversation you’re going to have? Lots of padding.”

They grinned at each other and headed their separate ways.