Legend

House party

Surprisingly, I wasn't upset by McIver's call. I'd known that the Joker was out and probably seeking revenge; this was simply a start of the... I decided to call it the game. When I play games, I play to win. And If the Joker was out to get me, I was totally going to pwn him.

The first secret to a successful strategy is not to get cocky or overconfident. Or to panic. I knew that I was physically prepared; my fighting skills were a lot better than they were the last time I met the Joker, I'd improved in armed combat too, I still wore my pendant and nobody but a select, trusted few knew that it was anything more than a pretty piece of jewelry, I had new, awesome driving abilities and a tricked-out car to help me escape. I had a ring with a hidden sting, a tracker watch that was beyond state of the art, and I had backup--the Joker's worst enemy, my boyfriend, his brother, as well as my uncle and assorted superheroes. The negative was that if I was serious about Damian (I was) and was looking at marrying the man (I was) then I also had to buy into my prospective father-in-law's worldview, which meant that I couldn't kill the Joker. Bucky would be... not disappointed in me, but... something. He was from a harder school of life than Bruce was, in many ways. He'd think I was foolish, and maybe I was, because everybody knew that Arkham was just a temporary holding stage for the city's supervillains. They seemed to use it as a place to rest up, get medical care and room and board before strolling out and wreaking havoc again. But I really didn't want to kill anybody. If you can't bring yourself to kill in self-defense, I don't think you'll ever be able to do it. But thanks to my instructors, I knew a lot of ways to hurt somebody so badly that they might wish I had killed them. Was that more cruel or less?

I knew Bruce would put the Joker on his priority list, if only to keep his son reined in. The one I was worried about was Damian. He hated the Joker long before me, but what the Joker had done to me had just increased his hate. My plan was to be ready to confront the Joker on my terms. Not his, this time. For that I needed intelligence. I needed to know where he was and information about the number of his minions and how they were likely to fit into the Joker's own strategy. The second step in my overall plan was to confront the Joker, beat him to within an inch of his life, then call the ambulances. I needed to make very clear that he needed to look elsewhere for his target in the future. I also needed to impress his minion scum with the futility of coming after me themselves. To do that, I had to make the cost of such an attempt high. Epic, if possible.

I also needed to understand the Joker better, I realized. Guy was nutty as an almond farm, but I didn't know what was going on in his head. During a traffic jam, I did some quick research on my phone and found that Harley Quinn was still in Arkham. I looked up the visiting hours. Through all of this, I kept alert and continually checked the area around my car. I touched the buttons to Alfred's Bond devices, the bag with the water rescue equipment, the place on my messenger bag where I'd clipped the special pepper spray. I brought a couple of shuriken out of the center console and placed them where I could reach them immediately if there was trouble. I kept my hands relaxed and ready for self-defense.

As it happened, I made it home without any grinning nightmares accosting me. When I got to the door, Alfred wasn't there, which was a surprise. I tucked my bag away myself, and encountered him in the library. I was surprised to see a crowd of superheroes. Right, Bruce had explained that we were having guests. I'd forgotten. The Wayne contingent was the only one not in costume. But it was to be expected; the guests must know the bat family's alter egos. Even Damian was up and dressed and not too pale. He'd shaved off his beard scruff (good because it was prickly, bad because he looked dead sexy with it) and was dressed in the trousers from a suit and a dress shirt but no tie or suitcoat. Bruce had on a suit from work as did Barbara. Dick was more casual, like Damian.

"Oh, Miss Alex," Alfred said, and he seemed a little fussed. "I regret that you did not receive a proper greeting at the door this evening."

"It's not the end of the world," I said, and accepted a pre-dinner cocktail from him, welcoming the first cool sip, the bite of lime and ginger over the vodka of a Moscow Mule. It was a warm day and I'd been tense. I sighed in pleasure and looked up at the tall butler, winking. "Or is it that you still think I'm a guest?"