I remember reading this fix years ago, and can't seem to find it. I saved the following blurb, but was wondering if anyone can tell me which fic this belongs to, who wrote it, and where I can find the whole thing?
Bruce was jerked awake by a terrible crash, followed by the excruciating pain of being pitched violently forward.
“Oops,” an irritable voice tickled his ear. “There’s the dammed breaks. Now. How do we get these seatbelts off?” The voice tapers off to more muttering. “-everything’s so hidden in this car, didcha fly the little batcar engineers down from Japan?”
The monologue went on at lenght before the car doors finally flew opened. The voice left the vehicle; Bruce had no way of knowing for how long, and then returned, yelling at somebody a distance away.
“I already said I was sorry! There’s no- I couldn’t find the manual!” The voice dropped to an apologetic whisper, and Bruce felt a hand carding through his sweat-drenched hair. “I couldn’t find the air-con, either.”
Joker. God help him, Bruce recognised the voice now. The lights spilled over the front porch and he made out Alfred’s shape approaching, gesturing and speaking in low, soothing tones.
“Well you must be the royal butter. The loyal butler. Deelighted to swap household tips. What do you use to get those grizzly blood stains to come off? He always smells so good.”
“I boil the batsuit in vinegar,” he heard Alfred replied gamely.
“Well. As I was saying, we were playing, and he kinda-” the Joker tried to roll his head up, unsuccessfully. “-broke.”
“Master Bruce is- a lot more fragile than he sometimes pretends to be.” There was a quiet censor in Alfred’s dignified tone.
“Uh-uh...” the Joker had his hands in his pockets, scuffing at his shoes like a schoolboy in trouble. “Couldn’t find the batmask after it…. fell off.”
Alfred deliberately ignored the blood and lipstick marks all over the comatose man‘s face and continued to speak in the same, soothing tone. “That’s all right. That’s all right. Plenty more where that came from.” A conspirators whisper, followed by a wink. “They’re made in China.”
The Joker actually blinked, perhaps registering true surprise for the first time since he became the Joker.
“Give him to me, Joker, and I’ll make sure your playmate’s right as rain in no time.”
“You’ll fix him.”
An equal silence was shared by the two men standing outside Wayne manor while its owner laid helpless between them. It was a heavy stillness, one that communicated less than a promise, but more than the sum of their spoke words. The shared look beween them culminating in the shallowest of nods from the Joker, and an almost indiscernible easing of the butler's shoulders. All the same, a few more seconds passed before the Joker managed to step away, giving Alfred a clear path to his injured charge.