"No, no, no!" Joker huffed to himself as he rummaged through his closet, tossing outfit after outfit over his shoulder towards the bed, brow furrowed as he scowled at the closet. He'd been trying to decide for almost an hour now what to wear for his date with Bruce, and as of yet, he hadn't been able to decide. He adored his purple suits, but there was no mistaking that his Batsy would immediately know it was him if he wore it. Finally, with a sigh, he decided. He wasn't as fond of the black suit, the lack of color bored him, but when all was said and done he had to admit he looked good in it.

Whistling lowly in front of the mirror, he smirked, carefully applying the prosthetics. The suit hugged his lithe frame in all the right places, the black tie offsetting his pale skin perfectly even He stared at his hair in the mirror forlornly, reaching up to gently touch it. Joker had decided to dye it the same sandy brown as the wig he had worn, and already, he was missing his green. He'd made sure to purchase plenty of wash in green to make up for it, but still, he felt the loss.

Oh well. It was all for his Batsy, and if all it took to be near Bruce was a little bit of hair dye and some prosthetics, he certainly wasn't about to say no. And for just a little while, he'd get to pretend that he really was a part of Bruce's world, that they could be real.

That he could be real.

The boredom would continue to hum in his head until half of him ached to claw his brain out for eternity, it would never leave. But when he was near Bats, it dulled to a quiet ache at least. The Joker adored those moments the most. He'd never quite understood why Bruce didn't understand, no matter how many times he had said- for Batman, he'd do anything. Give up crime, anything but leave. After all, it was just a game to get the other man's attention, one that worked far too well.

Finally he was ready, the smile on his lips only growing as he slipped into shining black shoes, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

Bruce wasn't sure he'd ever been this nervous for a date before. Dressed impeccably in a navy suit, Damien settled in his arms and Tim at his side as he ushered the boy into the car, struggling with the belts of Damien's car seat. He couldn't explain it, not really. It was just something about Jack… something intriguing and enticing and yet- there was something dangerous under the surface too. Jack was a mystery, and enigma. New to Bruce's knowledge, and the man seemed to have intrigued him more than many had in a long time. He just didn't seem like the other socialites and elites who normally attended Bruce's functions. Not to mention how quickly Damien had taken to him.

"So Dad, where are we going anyhow?" Tim questioned, fidgeting with the game device tucked into his pocket. "It's not one of those fancy places where the waiters don't smile and I gotta be on my best behaviour, is it?" The ten year old questioned, a pout tugging at his lips.

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at the action. For as much as Tim was his Robin, his crime fighting partner, he was still so much just a little boy. Reaching out, the billionaire gently ruffled his adopted son's hair affectionately, laughing as the boy tried to smooth it back into place.

"It is, but it's that place down on first that you liked last time. If you behave, you can have anything off the dessert menu, ok?" He offered, knowing there was one large desert the child eyed every time they were there. It'd be a sugar overload for him to deal with at home, but it was worth it if it meant Tim was behaving himself. "We're going to have dinner with a friend of mine, is that alright?"

Tim eyed his adopted father suspiciously before a grin broke across the child's face. "Oooohhhh, Dad's got a date~!" He crowed, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Who is it? Another pretty model? That last lady was really pretty, but he wouldn't have been a very good mom." He made a face. "She didn't like me very much, I don't think."

Bruce paused, glancing at his son curiously, one brow raised. "And is that what you want me to start looking for, Tim?" He shot back. "Somehow, I'd never gotten the impression you wanted a mom, am I suddenly not enough?" He teased, blue eyes twinkling with affection for the boy. "But no, it's not a pretty model."

When they arrived at the restaurant, Bruce got Damien unbuckled before cradling him to his chest, offering his free hand to Tim. As much as the boy complained that he was older and didn't have to hold his father's hand, Bruce still always offered it when they were out. He knew as shy and anxious Tim got around the paparazzi that constantly followed them and, sure enough, now was no different. The raven haired boy curled his fingers around Bruce's, burying his face in his father's arm as they entered the restaurant, trying to ignore the flashing lights of cameras.

It was the part of things Bruce hated the most. Even still, he gave the boys hand a protective, soothing little squeeze, leading him inside and looking around the restaurant for his date. Blue eyes lit up as he caught sight of Jack, his breath momentarily catching in his throat. Damn if the Frenchman didn't look amazing. The way the suit hugged onto every curve had Bruce shaking himself inwardly, trying to clear his head. Not the type of thoughts he ought to be having with his sons right there.

"Jack!" He called out, trying to get the man's attention without jostling his sons too much.

Jack looked up slowly at the call of his name, a smile spreading over his lips at the sight of his date, and the little one he'd claimed as his own. Even little Tim had cleaned up well, and Jack had to admit how cute the kid was when he wasn't trying to knock his teeth out. Making his way towards the three, his smile only grew.

"There you are, Brucie, I was worried maybe you were standing me up." He purred, letting his accent come through once more. "But I didn't think you'd do that." Glancing down at Tim, his eyes softened. "You must be Timothy. Bruce didn't tell me what a big strong boy you were! I'm Jack, it's nice to meet you." Offering his hand, he was glad when, after glancing up at Bruce for approval, Tim took his hand and shook it.

"Nice to meet you too, Mister Jack." The boy greeted politely, even if his eyes held confusion. His father had never been out with another man before, was this still a date?

Immediately, Damien began to coo and squeal in his father's arms, happy noises falling from his lips as his arms reached for Jack. A chuckle fell from Bruce's lips as he handed the boy over. "Seems I've got some competition for your attention." He chuckled.

"Hi, Dami~" Jack cooed as he lovingly cradled the boy close, stroking through raven locks. "What a handsome boy you are tonight!" Taking his seat, he refused to give the boy back up, holding him tenderly and protectively, emerald eyes shining with adoration. Never had he ever expected to be able to be this close to Bruce, to be so close to being a part of their family. It was beyond wonderful.

Bruce couldn't help but melt watching the handsome man talking to his son. There was nothing the billionaire cared more for than his children, Jack's actions heartwarming at least and enchanting at most. His heart gave a steady thump, cheeks flushing slightly as his large fingers ran through dark, slicked back locks, catching the few stray strands that had escaped their hold.

"So tell me a bit about yourself, Jack? I know you're new to Gotham… but I'm admittedly still a little curious about what brought you to my party. It doesn't seem like the sort of place you'd enjoy."

"Normally, it's not." Jack agreed, pleased to see Damian's eyes growing heavy as he rocked the boy. "As I said, I just moved here from Metropolis. Before that, I was in France." His accent made the word roll of his tongue smoothly, and all he could do was pretend he hadn't seen the shiver running down Bruce's spine, and suppress the smirk that threatened to tug at his handsome features. "And if I'm honest- well, I'd heard from my partners- I work at an art gallery downtown.- that you were hosting a party. They wouldn't shut up, going on and on about you and about the type of parties you threw. They claimed you were a social butterfly, attending all major functions, but that you always seemed guarded." A wicked grin tugged at his lips as he batted his lashes playfully. "I've always been one for the tall, dark and mysterious type…." A small wink. "...So I crashed your party. Wasn't too hard either- you need to up your security, Wayne." Jack teased.

"And what did you think?" Bruce shot back good-naturedly. "Did I live up to expectations, Jack? I do hate to disappoint." He hadn't had this much fun in a long time. The billionaire couldn't explain it, there was just something about Jack… he felt so comfortable around him, sliding so easily out of both his playboy persona and his Batman persona to something new and exciting, a part of him even he didn't recognize.

Tim rolled his eyes at his father's obvious flirting, even as blue eyes sharply watched the interaction between the two. The child was curious, he'd never seen Bruce so genuinely flustered by someone before, the pink creeping up his neck the same as Tim had seen when Dick was near Barbara. It was intriguing, even as he tipped his head to look at Jack, the man noticing and ruffling his hair with a small smile.

"Don't worry, darling, you impressed me plenty." Jack soothed with a soft, musical laugh. "Definitely the tall, dark and mysterious. Though- I feel like I haven't gotten to see too much of the real you yet. Which I suppose makes sense- but I get the impression the you that's at those parties isn't the you that's real." He hummed pointedly. "Good thing I have time to unravel you, huh?" Another wink as he shifted Damien slightly, careful not to wake the child before turning his attention to Tim. "So what about you, kiddo? You must be in what, grade five?" He questioned, voice soft and sincere as he gave the child his full attention. It didn't matter how many times he tried to kill this child as the Joker. In this setting, he truly did care about the boy. After all, it was Bruce's son.

Tim blinked in surprise. "Grade six… I skipped a year." He replied hesitantly, glancing up at Bruce for the ok to keep talking, relaxing visibly at the nod he received. "It was mostly just because Dad lets me learn anything I want at home. We have a huge library, and if there is ever a class I wanna take, or a book I want to read, he gets it for me." He explained, both stunned and excited when he realized the man was listening intently, actually paying attention. None of Bruce's dates had ever done that for him before.

"Wow, that's impressive!" Jack praised. "You must be a smart boy then! What is your favorite thing to learn about?" He questioned curiously, adoring the way the child's face lit up. A small part of him, deep down, nagged at how odd this whole thing was. Before, he wouldn't have had a problem ignoring this child. Maybe spending so many nights with Damian was softening him up? That had to be it, he was growing more than fond of Bruce's children.

Tim was thoughtful for a moment, before grinning. "I like space, and cars!" He answered excitedly. "Dad sent me to space camp last year, and we sometimes get old junkers to work on at our house. I like gymnastics a lot too."

As Bruce watched the two interact, the ache in his chest only grew. Talia herself had never even shown an interest in Tim, always brushing him off as Bruce's silly little sidekick. Tim's words from earlier came back to his mind, the boys desire for two parents nagging at him momentarily, but he pushed it aside, content to watch their interaction. When the date was over, he took Jack's hand with one, and Tim's with the other, allowing Jack to continue holding Damian as he leaned over, softly murmuring in the other man's ear, "Come back home with me?"

He almost expected a no, not the gentle squeeze of the hand in his own, and the soft reply of, "Of course."

When they arrived, he put the boys to bed, kissing Tim's head and turning on Damian's baby monitor before returning to the large living room where Jack nervously sat on the couch waiting. He didn't speak, offering his hand to tug the other up, pressing him against the wall and kissing him deeply. Large hands cradled the frenchman's head, angling slightly for better contact.

Fingers curled into those dark locks as Jack immediately responded, pressing his lithe body up against the other as breathless moans and mewls fell from his lips. Finally he pulled away, laughing softly.

"Well, Mister Wayne, if that's how you always kiss, I can certainly see why so many are in love with you!" He teased. "But what did little old me do to deserve that, huh?" Kissing Bruce was… even better than he'd imagined it would be, and he'd had a damn lot of time to imagine. He'd always pictured fireworks, rough and demanding lips against his own. Never the soft, tender caress he'd received. Even with the fire and possessive edge he'd felt to the kiss, it had been more adoring than any he'd ever received.

"No one has ever treated my kids like that…" Bruce answered softly. "You were really really cute with them… and it left me wanting to do that all night." He pulled him close, eyes dark with desire as he rested his forehead against Jack's. "I'm sorry if it's forward of me but… stay?"

And as Jack took the bigger man's hand, silently promising he would, he was filled with the fleeting thought that, when this was all over, he was going to be the one left broken. It was going to hurt, and he wasn't even sure he'd regret it.