His little monster

Bruce Wayne has a problem. Technically, Batman has a problem. Bruce just hasn’t realized it yet. It started with a girl at one of the Joker’s parties. Batman had crashed enough of the Joker’s operations to recognize the usual faces—henchmen, criminals, thrill-seekers, people desperate enough to orbit Gotham’s most infamous psychopath. And then there was her. She wasn’t dressed like a criminal. She wasn’t carrying a weapon. She wasn’t participating in the chaos beyond being there, usually tucked somewhere out of the way with a drink in hand, watching everything unfold with an expression that suggested she’d already seen worse.