Author: Co-written by Jay Narra & Liana Kerzner
Rating: PG-13?
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Fandom: Think "The Killing Joke," & "Arkham Asylum." Mildly BTAS. Some point after the comic "Death In The Family."
Feedback: Definitely! Appreciated!
Archive: Yes, certainly! Just let me know it's there!
Disclaimer: Batman & Joker are (c) DC! Not mine!
Summary: Everyone loves Batarangs. EsPECially when you're not supposed to be playing with them.
The Game We Play 16 - Playtime
Co-written by Jay Narra & Liana Kerzner
By 3:00 PM the next day, Alfred had gotten tired of waiting for Bruce to emerge from the Batcave. He had a morbid bet going with himself that Batman and the Joker would end up killing each other before this whole thing was said and done -- it was a way of stopping himself from worrying. He'd gotten good at that over the years.
But this one time he couldn't help himself. Couldn't avoid 'interfering' as Bruce would undoubtably see it. But SOMEONE had to keep things sane around here, and Alfred Pennyworth was the only one with a hope of doing that.
Two sets of clean clothes, breakfast - more like lunch - and a change of sheets for the bed made the trek into the Batcave long and tiring. Alfred shook his head when he saw what a mess the place was: Bruce had never been capable of picking up after himself. . . and what in God's name had happened to the scientific equipment?
It was with relief that he heard no signs of anyone else moving around in the cave. The master was likely out or still asleep, and the Joker was probably still sleeping, too.
His suspicions were confirmed when he looked into the alcove where the bed was located.
Dear. Sweet. Lord.
Batman and the Joker were still asleep all right. Together. Curled UP together. He supposed it was better than them being dead.
Nonetheless, he stared in disbelief and with a bit of revulsion as he took in the scene.
Batman was lying on his back above the bedcovers, his expression more serene than Alfred had seen it in a very long time. On top of him lay the Joker, green curls spilling across the Bat symbol on his chest. The Joker's arms were spread wide in what looked like an embrace around Batman's shoulders, but his arms barely made it around that wide upper body.
Alfred always remarked that it was amazing he fit through doorways.
The cape of Batman's costume was cocooned around them, wound tightly as if they had rolled over each other a few times. Alfred didn't want to speculate as to whether that's what had happened.
Without a word, and with eyebrows that were almost flying off his head, the butler turned and went back upstairs.
The very instant Alfred closed the door at the top of the stairs, the Joker stirred and pulled himself awake. He registered the smell of food first, delighted to be greeted by such a thing. But when he
moved to get up, he found himself restrained. But by what? Another second passed as Joker drifted in and out of consciousness, taking his time in remembering last night.
His body finally informed him of what was going on, making the connection with Joker's sluggish brain that he was indeed being restrained - by a pair of arms.
And these weren't just any arms. They belonged to the hulking person underneath him. Batman.
Joker snuggled up into his caretaker's arms, stretching out his fingers before retracting his arms entirely back to his chest. The Batman was warm. So much that it was hard to stay awake.
Being held by Batman was like being wrapped up in a blanket and tucked away into the most soothing place on Earth. He was hard against the Joker's smaller body, molded to perfection after years of vigorous training... and yet there was nothing intimidating about him.
The air was quiet. Joker knew these were moments rarely given to anyone, and he would have to treasure them. The privelage of watching Batman sleep was more than enough to let Joker die happily, and at that moment, he wished he could've. The look on his longtime arch-nemisis' face was peaceful, the muscles relaxed and allowed time to recooperate - for more scowling, no doubt.
But the best part of it all was the smell. It was what sent a wave of euphoria through the Joker's body, tingling every last nerve to the core. Joker had memorized the scent of the Bat after many years of vicious fighting. Mostly he reeked of sweat, dirt and blood... but tonight - it was just HIM. And it was more than enough.
With a deep breath, Joker lifted himself up slightly, just enough to be able to take in the sight with more ease. His emerald eyes glittered with curiosity, mentally outlining the edges of Batman's mask. It would be only too easy...
...except for the fact that he was suddenly distracted.
Slightly pouting lips caught his eye, carved into the Bat's face with a perfect sense of artistic fashion. They were the only real vulnerable thing on Batman's body. They were the only soft part.
Joker found himself struggling to resist temptation, fingers twitching with the need to touch. He winced and started to lay down again... only to discover that his hand was moving of its own
accord. Before he knew it, he had his white fingertips all over Batman's mouth, covering it completely... greedily. And the lips were yielding, sinking inward when pressed down upon.
His own were lingering just over Batman's chest as he hid his face, feeling the need to break down and scream more than ever before. He was going to die soon! There was nothing - NOTHING! - anyone could do about it!
He was going to lose his right to live the very moment a positive change happened in his life.
Batman started stirring, wincing as he reacted to the Joker's fingers pulling down on his lower lip. He tried to move his arms to smack the intrusive sensation away, but he found he was bound by
something. He jerked his head to the side and opened his eyes, spitting out whatever was in his mouth.
Joker went still, pulling his hand back under the cape and tucking it between their chests. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth together, praying that Batman would either fall asleep or neglect to chew him out for DARING to touch him.
Batman let his head drop back and groaned, starting to remember how he'd ended up like this.
"Are you angry?" Joker retreated further into the depths of Batman's cape.
"What did you do?" Batman growled, staring at the ceiling.
"Nothing," the clown whispered.
The Bat sighed with relief. "Then why would I be angry?"
"I don't know. I thought... you..." Joker lifted his face enough to see Batman. In his mind, he finished the thought. *I thought you didn't want me touching you.* Afterall, he was nothing more than a madman. "Nevermind."
"Alright." Batman seemed uninterested and fidgety. He was trying to figure out how to get out of the tightly wound cape. "You know, I might have to roll over you to get us out of this."
"Why? Can't we stay here for a while?" Joker was perfectly content to stay where he was... even if it meant letting his food go cold.
Batman lifted his head up a little more to look down at the Joker with his patented 'no' face.
Joker laid back down, anyway. Let the Bat roll over him if he wanted. He wasn't going to help.
Batman sniffed the air. He smelled food. Had Alfred been down here? He never did listen.
"Okay. I'm sorry if this hurts." He said, then started to rock a little to try to flip himself over.
He paused. That had been a first.
Joker tensed, bringing his shoulders up protectively as he was rocked side to side.
Batman froze. He'd come up with a better idea... and started wriggling sideways toward the edge of the bed.
*Don't do it,* Joker warned himself mentally. But almost as soon as he'd thought it, he giggled. And then started laughing. "Stop it! That tickles!" He shook against Batman, moving as he continued his bemused laughter.
Batman ignored the giggling.
"Can you reach the clasps to release my cape?" He asked.
"Maybe," Joker taunted playfully.
"Joker."
"Batman."
Batman rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Fine. Be difficult." He continued to inch his way toward the edge of the bed.
With a definite tease to his movements, Joker ran his hand up Batman's chest and fingered with the clasps, not pulling them free, but tugging enough to show he knew very well where they were.
"Thank you. Undo them, please."
"What will I get out of it?" Joker lifted one eyebrow and gazed at Batman imploringly.
"My undying devotion." Batman said flatly.
"Ooh! Good enough for me!" Joker made like he was going to undo the clasps, and then paused. "Only if devotion means attention... and not harrassment." He giggled and then did as he was asked, freeing the cape from Batman's shoulders.
"Thank you." Batman said humorlessly. He continued to inch toward the side of the bed, feeling the cape now start to unravel underneath him.
"Grab ahold of the cape and give it a good tug." He instructed. "Hard. Don't worry about ripping it."
Joker made a face and grabbed the cape, more than happy to be given permission to touch something. He started pulling, but was having a difficult time considering his physical state... and the closeness of their bodies.
Batman bent his knees, planted his feet on the bed and pushed his hips up, freeing the cape underneath him. It was a bit difficult with Joker 'on board' so to speak, but he managed. He looked at the Joker who was sliding toward his face a little due to gravity.
"When I push my upper body up, pull as hard as you can." He told him.
"Okay," Joker mumbled, trying really hard not to notice the position Batman was in.
"On three." Batman instructed. "One. . . Two. . . Three!" He rocked back on the bed slightly, then pushed forward with his legs, moving his upper body into the air about three inches.
Tonight the Joker had been trying to be fairly cooperative. He had agreed to pull the cape, and was really planning on it... But when Batman lifted them up into the air, he couldn't do anything beside laugh. The cape was left alone, clenched in his fingers and in the same spot by the time they landed.
Batman collapsed onto the bed, very annoyed.
"Fine. You want to do this the hard way, we will."
Without further ado, he rolled over, crushing the Joker into the matress as he found his footing on the ground, then he stood up. The cape tumbled loose in a cascading circle.
He grumbled something and started tracking down the source of the food smell.
Joker choked down several more giggles and watched as Batman walked away, being sure the eyeslits couldn't pick up on his movements. He sprawled out on the sheets, pretending to look flushed - which was only halfway faked - and mouthed a string of girly words to himself. "I do declare!" he exclaimed at the end.
"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!" Batman shot back. He located the collection of things Alfred had brought down. Helpful, but risky. Bad butler.
"Oh, but honey-punkin-pie," Joker cooed. He pulled at his borrowed pajama pants, hating that they were FAR too big for his slender frame. He was so used to having his clothes tailored to fit him that this was nearly unbearable.
Batman dug through the piles of neatly folded clothing until he found the pajamas he'd instructed Alfred to get for the Joker. Purple silk, with a green embroidered cursive "J" above the left breast pocket. He tossed them at the Joker.
"Ack!" Joker caught the pajamas out of pure luck, having raised his hands for protection rather than in an attempt at catching them. After he managed to gather his wits, he lowerd the clothes into his lap and inspected them closely. "Oooh... you had these made for me?" He looked up and smiled sweetly, feeling slightly elated.
The Dark Knight nodded slightly. He noticed that Alfred had brought him a change of clothes as well. What was the old man trying to hint at? Whatever it was, he didn't like it.
"There's food here." He said.
Joker nodded and started pulling on his new set of pajamas, unable to shake the satisfaction he felt in wearing them. They were so pretty... and fit like Batman had taken measurements! "Perfect," he muttered to himself, standing up from the bed with shaky legs.
Carefully, the Joker started forward, wincing as a throbbing struck up in his head. "I don't feel so good." He paused mid-step, blinked his eyes against a wave of nausea, and then lowered himself to the floor.
Batman rushed over. Even with the cowl hiding his eyes, concern was evident.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"I hurt," Joker whispered, feeling the pain spread throughout his frame. He leaned over forward onto the floor, clenching his muscles in an attempt to chase it all away.
Batman immediately pulled a syringe from his utility belt. "Painkillers," he explained, then injected the Joker with the drug.
Joker whined softly. He hated needles. They were the WORST. Not even Batman could ever change his mind about that. "Thank you," he managed. The pain was already subsiding.
Batman brushed the Joker's hair away from his feverish forehead with the flat of his hand.
"I'm sorry." He said softly. "You should eat something."
Joker nodded and reached out, grabbing onto Batman's retreating arm. "Help me?" he asked softly.
"Help you what?" Batman asked gently.
"Stand up," Joker explained, his voice wary all of a sudden. The drugs were taking the intended effect, but they were making him drowsy as well.
Batman nodded and stood up, then held out a gloved hand to the Joker. The very thing that was so often directed at the pale man as a fist was now extended in a gesture of friendship.
While using as much strength as he could, Joker latched onto Batman's hand and pulled himself to his feet. He wavered slightly and then sighed. "Maybe I'd better sit down."
Batman helped the Joker sit on the edge of the bed. He was worried. He wanted to know what was wrong, and more importantly, he wanted to be able to fix it.
"I need to make a few phone calls." He said. "Are you going to be okay for a few minutes if I bring over some food?"
Joker nodded silently and scooted back onto the mattress. He sighed, noting that it wasn't warm anymore.
Batman quickly went to retrieve the tray of food and set it down in front of the Joker. It was simple brunch fare: assorted breads, a few different kinds of eggs, fruit, orange juice and a cheese plate.
"I'll be back soon." He promised, then headed over to the computer.
In the course of about ten minutes, Joker consumed half of what was on the tray. He was careful to leave the rest for Batman, knowing that he had yet to eat today, either. "What are you doing?" he asked afterward, picking at the cheese plate.
Batman had his back to him and was talking on the phone in a hushed voice. He soon hung up the phone and leaned on the computer console, looking defeated.
"Wasting both our time." He said sadly.
"How so?" Joker pressed. He moved to the edge of the bed and slowly raised himself up to his feet. Carefully, he walked across the room, weaker than he should've been but not in any pain.
"It doesn't matter." The Bat said darkly. "I have work to do."
He turned to the computer screens, trying to block out the pain he was feeling.
"I've had too many people die."
It took a moment for him to realize he'd said that out loud. Damn it.
Joker frowned and moved closer to Batman, watching the computer screen over his shoulder. He couldn't help but be amazed, considering this was where the Bat likely did most of his detective
work. "I don't want to be another of those people," Joker replied lowly. And then, as if in an attempt to change subjects, he pointed at the sceen and asked, "Do you have files on me in there?"
"Quite a few." Batman said seriously.
"Show me?"
Batman typed in a series of commands and a dossier-style file with the Joker's picture and vital statistics popped up on the screen.
Joker giggled and pointed at it. "That's a terrible picture of me! Why don't you replace it?" He stepped forward and examined it more closely. "Name... unknown. Awww... that's a pity. Nobody ever seems to be able to figure that one out!" He smirked and then jabbed his finger into a random button. "What does this do?!"
"That's the caps lock key." Batman muttered. He pressed the same key to take the lock off. "If you tell me your name, I'll add it right now. As for the picture, it's from your Arkham file. It
updates when they update."
"Poo," Joker spat. He folded his arms and pouted. "You should update it yourself. I'm sure you know how." He was trying really hard to ignore the part about his name... and noticed some rather appealing and much larger buttons off to the side. "Ooooh... what does THIS do?!" He shoved his entire palm into it, grinning madly.
"Don't. . .!" Batman said insistently, then his shoulders slumped as, across the room, the Batcave's weapons cache swung open from it's concealed place in the wall of the cave.
"Hee! LOOK at all the TOYS!" Joker shouted. He turned and headed for the opening, his fingers curled in anticipation of playing with Batman's batarangs... and whatever else he could find.
"Just stay away from the napalm." Batman muttered, dropping his head into his hands.
"Mmhmm." Joker nodded once and picked up a handful of batarangs, holding them against his chest so as not to drop them. But just as soon as he finished gathering them, he notice a grappling hook... and his eyes narrowed mischieviously. "Lookie at what I found." He giggled and snatched it up, closing one eye to aim it at the ceiling. "Batman! Look look look! I'm YOU!" He pressed the release and began laughing hysterically as the hooked end shot out and latched onto the rocks above them.
Batman turned around in his chair slowly. He knew by the sound what the Joker had done, and was prepared to see the worst. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was actually somewhat childlike.
"Now what are you going to do?" He asked, standing up. "You're missing an important piece of equipment."
He slowly crossed the room and grabbed one of Batgirl's utility belts, thinking that they would be the only ones that would fit. He paused, thought about it, and then switched it for one of Robin's.
He also grabbed a mask.
If the Joker wanted to enroll in sidekick school, so be it.
He headed toward the Joker and snapped the belt around his waist, then stuck the mask on his face.
"There. That's better." He said with a hint of a smile. "Actually, you look more like Huntress in the purple."
"Do I?" Joker modeled the new additions, dropping all his gathered batarangs to the floor. "The Huntress is silly. She doesn't know how to have fun." He tugged at the grappling hook a little, confused about how to work it... but then decided he wasn't done playing with it anyway and pulled on it, hanging his weight off of it as he poked at the belt.
"Yes, the Huntress is even more uptight than I am." Batman agreed. "Here, let me show you how to use this."
He stepped in behind Joker and reached around him to find the clasp. It was hidden near the middle of the Joker's belt, and the line from the grappling hook fit into it. He found it, took the cable, and snapped it in.
"There." He said. "Now you can pull up, but you won't slide down unless you hit the release. See?"
He tugged upward on the cable to demonstrate the resistance.
"Huh?" Joker made a face and pressed several buttons at the same time, confusing the mechanism in it. He rose from the ground a little and then stopped... and fell back onto his feet. "I don't think I'm understanding this... quite..."
Batman smirked and moved around in front of him.
"You're reversing the controls." He said. "And it doesn't work when you're hitting everything at once."
He closed the top of a nearby compartment the Joker had inadvertantly opened.
Joker shivered all over as Batman reached out to touch his belt, watching with an intense gaze. "So I push this button, then?" He poked at it lightly, not really expecting it to react - which it did. He rose from the ground a few feet, surprised and searching for the button to stop it. "I don't think I like this!" he shouted.
Batman laughed. The sound echoed through the cave.
"Don't worry. If you get stuck, I'll get you down." He said.
The Joker's eyes were wide as he continued to rise slowly into the air, above Batman's head now and going... "Errmm...." He picked at the utility belt, finding several batarangs. They snapped into their full shape and settled into his hands as though created for someone with thin fingers. With a grin, he threw the first one... and blushed as it flew a couple feet and then plummetted.
Batman raced to catch the batarang before it broke something. He jumped into the air to catch it before it went crashing through the display case holding one of the Penguin's umbrellas.
"Those aren't the easiest things to use." He called up to the Joker. "Especially when you're dangling in mid air."
"I'm going to try again," he declared to himself. Turning slowly, he aimed for the computer. "Watch this! I'll bet I can hit my picture!" He pulled his arm back and then threw-... nothing? "Hey!" he whined. "Where is it?" The batarang hit the ground behind him, bouncing once before settling. Joker growled.
Batman grinned. "Man. You SUCK!" He taunted. He caught himself and realized. . . he was having fun.
The Joker opened his mouth to respond, but then caught the fact that Batman had just said something rather uncharacteristic of him. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and took aim with his batarang. "Oh yeah? Take THIS!" He set loose on the last one, going for Batman's stomach. He giggled and pointed, watching as it flew right past him. "I need practice, I think."
Batman picked up the fallen batarang and tossed it back toward the Joker, then started running forward. The batarang sliced through the cord the Joker was hanging from just as Batman got underneath him.
Joker let out a horrendous scream as he fell, closing his eyes tightly with instinctive fear.
Batman caught him effortlessly. "Yeah. You need practice." He said with a smirk.
It disturbed him that he still enjoyed frightening the Joker.
Being caught wasn't the problem. It was the fall immediately beforehand that got to the Joker. He glared and folded his arms, but raised an eyebrow playfully. "I don't suppose you intend on teaching me, though." He smirked and leaned against Batman.
Batman set him down and turned him around, pressing a batarang into his hand. He then wrapped his gloved hands around the Joker's pale extremity and pulled his arm in. His other hand settled on the Joker's shoulder to position his purple-clad body.
"It's all in the wrist." He explained. "You've got to get it spinning, kind of like a frisbee, like this."
He manipulated the Joker's body in a slow motion version of the correct technique. Then he took the weapon away out of the Joker's hand, and held it out in his own.
"But it has to be a lot faster." He said, reaching his other hand out to grab the Joker's. He opened up the Joker's palm and pressed it around his own gloved wrist. He brought his arm in against the
Joker's chest.
"Try to feel how my wrist moves." He said, then flung his arm out, flicking his wrist just as his arm extended fully.
The batarang flew across the room and disappeared into the gloom. A few seconds later, the sound of it striking a wall, and the flurry of many wings came came back to them.
The Joker peered after the batarang, amazed at the fact that it just seemed to vanish. "You know how I said your knuckles hurt when we talked in the hospital? Well, so do those things." He pointed after it and then leaned against Batman, figuring that at this point, he ought to be able to.
Batman nodded. "Remember how I responded?" He asked. "Same applies. But they don't hurt as much as bullets."
He lowered his arm with the Joker's hand still attached to it.
The Joker shrugged and pulled Batman's hand back up, picking at the glove as he thought. "How many times have you been shot? Do you have a lot of scars?"
"Thanks to a plastic surgeon, not as many as I should." Batman answered, his brow furrowing as he wondered what the Joker was up to with his hand. "I don't get shot all that often anymore. When I used to wear this suit though. . . it was bad."
"I've shot you a few times," Joker commented slowly. He pushed a finger against Batman's, bending it backwards tenderly.. "Do you still have any of those scars?"
Batman had to think for a moment. "There's a tiny mark on my left ankle from a piece of a bullet from your gun." He said. "I figured it wasn't worth having removed. It could be anything."
Joker looked down at Batman's foot instinctively, wondering about the mark. He wanted to see it but was afraid to ask... so he refrained. "Is that all? There isn't anything else? I know I got you once here." He pointed at the Bat's arm. His other hand held onto Batman's thumb, keeping it close as though he weren't finished with it.
Batman nodded. "There's a small mark, but it's a surgical scar. I had that one fixed: it went clean through. You got me in the side once years ago. My right thigh a while back. You even nicked my neck once. And there's a small mark on my jaw right here from one of your bullets."
He lifted his chin slightly and brushed the thumb the Joker wasn't hanging onto against a slight pink mark on the underside of his jaw.
"Awwww..." Joker smiled as innocently as he could and reached up to touch it. He ran his finger tenderly over the mark, tempted toward kissing it better... but trying to convince himself not to. He pushed the skin a little and then settled his hand over Batman's collar bone, examining it with his eyes. "I don't want to sound like a broken record or anything - because those are ghastly - but I'm sorry for it." Joker lifted himself upward, standing on his toes as he moved in to kiss it.
*
END