🔴 "GOOD ALMOST AFTERNOON, EVERYBODY! I hope you're ready for my EASTER EGG HUNT!"
🔴 Caine opens his palm, revealing a painted Easter Egg. With bunny ears. And bunny feet.
🔴 "THIS little guy is what you'll be COLLECTING! This is a SPECIAL, IN HOUSE ADVENTURE!! Find all 151 TOGETHER and you win!! But be careful, my gingersnap pansies, BECAUSE THEY ARE FAST!"
Could you maybe write something with feral Bruce and his best friend Harvey Dent before the whole two face incident. I hope you have a great day!!!
Thank you so much! I love those two and their relationship, so this was really interesting to think about! Also I made it a little ambiguous when it comes to the nature of their relationship, but for another ask, I shared some more obvious shippy thoughts which you can find here. Thank you so much for this ask, Lovely, and I hope you have a great day as well!! 💝
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It’s just past 2am, but the night air is still surprisingly warm. Harvey loosens his tie as he steps outside. His eyes aren’t adjusted to the darkness yet, but he can make out Bruce against the stone railings, the velvet of his suit catching the light. He closes the tall glass door behind himself, then makes his way over.
“I watched your statement.”
“The one on the stairs?”
Bruce nods, rubbing the pad of his thumb between his eyebrows. “That was hot. The whole thing with the fraud and the taxes, that was impressive. Which is to say, I was impressed. Very chic.” He makes a vague gesture with his hand, nervous-fluttering piano fingers, and the light catches on the ruby on his pinkie.
“Thanks.” Harvey grins and bumps his shoulder against Bruce’s. “But I wouldn’t have made it without Gordon and the Bat. We’ve been working on it for – I want to say 40 hours? Really, he deserves the credit for gathering the evidence, it’s too bad he’s not being upfront about it. We could’ve used him in Court, he’s got that imposing presence and the sharp mind. It’s too bad. The public should hear him speak, it’s - I don’t know, it’s something.”
“Ah?” Bruce looks into the flute of champagne he’d been twirling between his fingers and offers it to Harvey. “Nothing’s in it, don’t worry. Well, except for champagne, obviously. I had too much, I think.” He hops to sit on the railing, swinging his feet a little, showing off the red bottoms of his shoes. “Everything’s spinning.”
Harvey takes a sip. It’s gone flat. He makes a face, then tips his head back to swallow it down in one go, gold rushing down his throat. “Thanks. Can I leave it here?”
“Huh?” Bruce blinks, flicks his eyes up to Harvey’s face again, then down to his glass. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take it in later. Want to sit down?” He pats on the stone railing next to his thighs.
Harvey considers his suit, then nods. The story will give him a good amount of publicity, he’ll be able to buy at least three new suits by the end of next month. “Yeah, sure.” He sits and they both look into the ballroom for a moment, golden light, flutters of pastel coloured silk and black suits, fragments of music washing through the open windows.
“This sucks,” Bruce says with finality. “What’s the point of going outside only to look back inside?” He twists around with surprising grace for someone who can’t walk in a straight line, another flash of red bottoms. When Harvey follows, it’s a little more awkward and his shoe almost gets caught along the way. Bruce reaches out for him and steadies him and finally, they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder again, overlooking the garden this time, three storeys of Wayne Manor stretching under their feet.
The night’s gotten significantly colder, especially in comparison with the heat inside, but as of yet, the champagne warms Harvey sufficiently. He blinks, waiting until he can make out the lawn, the dark shapes of the trees and hedges, the glittering lake. It smells cool-green. He inhales, feels the scent seep into his brain. When he exhales, he leans against Bruce’s shoulder a little. “You know, this is nice.”
“What, the party? It’s a bit loud, honestly. Lots of people I don’t remember inviting. But they RSVP’d, so I guess I did invite them. They all look the same, don’t they? Which isn’t a bad thing, I just wonder how they remember their addresses sometimes.”
Harvey blinks, then looks at Bruce, whose profile is sharp in the silvery light. “No, I meant – this, you know?” He pats Bruce’s chest, velvet under his palm, fingertips brushing skin where they slip under the lapels of his jacket. Too hot for a shirt. “Spending some time with you away from the noise.”
“Oh.” Bruce sniffs a little. “Yeah, yeah. That’s nice.” He looks up at the sky. His jawline is very sharp, Harvey thinks dimly. “We should do that again some time. Not with quite this many people around, though. And different food.”
“Food?” Sparkling champagne, black caviar and fruit cut and arranged like bouquets of flowers.
“Yeah. I don’t like those little toothpicks they put in stuff.”
Harvey laughs. “Yeah, me neither. I’d give a silver dollar for a simple PinguBurger right now.”
Bruce nods. “They’re good, right? People say they’re good.”
“I mean, after the Bat stopped the Penguin from putting coke in the snowcream sauce, they lost a bit of their kick, but they’re still excellent. There are vegetable crisps on there, you know? Carrot and beets and stuff, to give it some extra crunch. Goes really well with the fried fish. You never had one?”
Bruce shakes his head. “No, not yet.”
“Aw, man.” Harvey huffs a laugh. “Tell you what –“ Here, he wraps an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, pulls him in a little, takes in the faint note of jasmine and ambery woods. “Next time, we’ll just skip the buffet and get some take out. We’ll sit here on your balcony and have some PinguBurgers and some fries, yeah? They make them with sweet potatoes with those big pieces of salt. Extra crunchy, it’s great.”
“Yeah,” Bruce says, leaning into the one-armed embrace. “Sounds great.”
Around them, the night is alive with bats looking for their late night snack and in the darkness of the lawn, the lake looks like a big silver coin.
