The Bat and the Jester

Chapter One

"Good morning, Master Bruce. Rough night, I assume?"

27 year old Bruce Wayne, heir to the Wayne fortune and primary shareholder and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, sat on the edge of his bed nursing several bruises. "I've had better, Alfred."

Alfred Pennyworth, the Wayne family butler smiled down at his now-sole employer. At 71, he had served the Wayne's since his youth, and he had been Bruce's close friend and confidant since the death of young-man's parents nearly sixteen years ago. "More ice, sir?" He asked in his crisp, perfectly enunciated British accent.

"Yes, please Alfred. Thank you," Bruce replied while somewhat embarrassed. He took the ice packs and placed two on his knees and one over his right shoulder.

"Master Bruce, although you've been doing this for two years, it seems as if you return in this condition only after you face the Clown."

"Joker," Bruce muttered.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"The papers have taken to calling him The Joker. I find it as ridiculous as them calling me Batman. The media lies constantly, yet they have no imagination. A homicidal maniac who dresses like a clown is no joking matter. And Batman? That sounds like a cheesy children's cartoon," he huffed in mild aggravation.

Alfred, the prim and proper Brit, never cracked a smile. "And what have you learned about this... Joker, sir?"

Bruce popped his neck and sighed. "Not much. During our previous fight, I collected enough of his blood to run him through the national DNA database, and although he is wanted for at least three murders, the database lists him as a John Doe. However, he now has a new accomplice."

"The plot thickens. Do go on, Master Bruce."

Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a 28 year old psychotherapist formerly of Arkham Asylum. She wrote her dissertation on this lunatic, and after graduation they offered her a job. Apparently, he got into her head and convinced her to free him. They fired her, and she just recently turned up in some of his surveillance videos. I've encountered her twice now, and both times he's used her as a distraction while he escaped. I think that she believes that she is in love with him, and him-her... but he is incapable of any kind of profound emotion. I don't understand why she cannot see it."

"You've already answered your own question, Master Bruce. He got into her head. Classic Stockholm Syndrome."

"Perhaps," Bruce smiled. "But there is an accomplished young woman with a degree in psychology running around with a murderer. I would like to save her."

Alfred looked upon the young man sitting on the bed before him. "Leslie Van Houten, Patricia Krenwinkel and Susan Atkins."

Bruce looked away. "Charles Manson's girls. So you're saying that he has infected her mind to the point of no return?"

"Master Bruce, you are a good man, and you strive to do good things, even if I don't always approve of your methods. I agree that you should try to rescue this misguided young woman, but I don't wish a potential good deed to get you killed. This Joker person... he strikes me..."

"He struck me a lot last night," Bruce joked with precious little humor in his voice. "But I will be careful, Alfred. I won't die for a lost cause."