A/N: This is a play on the scene from the beginning of TDK, when Gordon and Ramirez are on top of the station, talking about Batsy (behind his back; how rude.) I've always thought, "Busy with WHAT, though?!"

So I felt the urge, whilst watching the movie for the twenty-third time to write this little scene that they conveniently left out of the movie, explaining Batsy's lateness to the dealing with the mob and his not-too-surprising absence with Gordon.

Whatev's; I do not own. If I DID, the Joker would be gay… or my lover... or gay and my best friend. And Bruce would totally be like "ZOHMYGOD I AM TEH BATMAN!" And Harvey and Crane would be biffles with Mr. J and they would play Apples to Apples and do 'fun' drugs. However! As quite obviously none of this is true, honestly one can easily assume I do not own. So!

ONWARD TO THE TALE!!

"Why wouldn't he come?" asked Ramirez, eyes confused as the steam from her coffee danced in the wind above her head. Gordon smiled at her wisely and sipped his own coffee.

"Hopefully," he said, "because he's busy."

Twenty minutes earlier, in a crusty motel room a few blocks from the supposed location of a drug dealing – and I say supposed because the information came from a consistently dishonest source – a newly awakened Bruce Wayne lay in thought. Wrapped in the best sheets the motel had, Bruce had been enjoying a deep sleep, the kind that customarily followed a large quantity of violent, angry sex, when the alarm next to the bed had shrieked rudely, alerting Bruce that the drug dealing was due to start in an hour.

Bruce was pondering (not thinking, pondering, because pondering is deeper) his current predicament. It was indeed one unlike any other Bruce – or even Batman – had ever seen. After a long moment, Bruce remembered he had somewhere to be and he didn't have time for the type of careful pondering he felt the situation required.

Tenderly, Bruce slid from under the sleeping form of his newest sexual conquest, so as to allow the other man to sleep. Yes, man. That was the reason the two were in a seedy motel off the road, rather than, say, Bruce's extravagant pent house. Or at least, that was ONE reason for it, anyway.

Bruce watched, cautiously, as the man rolled over, eyes shuddering as he fought to stay asleep. With a sigh, the almost naked man pulled the pillow to his chest and dozed back off. Bruce sighed and eased himself silently from the crumbled sheets, making sure not to shake the bed. Like a shadow, he crept around the room, picking up the many pieces of armor that were scattered about.

Latching each plate of Kevlar together, Bruce slipped easily into his role of the dark vigilante, Batman. Finally, he picked up his cowl and glanced back over at the sleeping man. The whole arrangement hadn't really been planned as it was. It all came as a sort of surprise to Bruce.

A few hours ago, the night had been like any other. Bruce had headed out directly after the sun began to sink behind the wavering horizon. He was a little early, but he was thinking he could get a few minor crimes out of the way before the evening began. Bruce was expecting something big, a drug deal, for later that night and maybe, just maybe, the infamous new guy would show up.

Sweeping through the shadows of the lowering sun, Bruce – in costume as Batman – searched for anything out of place. About three minutes in, Batman noticed a convenient store, barely noticeable, if not for the oddly parked black car. Through the window of the building, Batman saw what appeared to be a masked man holding up the two owners and Bruce grinned.

"Let the parties begin," Batman muttered.

Stealthily, Batman slid out of the shadows and up to building. Arming himself with a batarang and his 'angry for justice' face, he kicked in the door, charging into the store. Once inside however, he froze, realizing what was really happening. Turning heel, he made to run, but it was too late. He was already caught, the net below him twisting around his feet and pulling him up off the ground. The material weaved into the net ropes were thick and he couldn't move, his arms locked to his sides, batarang falling to the ground.

Eyes slitted with anger, Batman stop struggling and looked onward in slight confusion, to the two men that had looked like victims. As he watched, the two men pulled on the ropes that held the net to the ceiling and turned to leave. There was a gunshot and the two men feel to the floor. Batman growled and struggled to see the shooter. There was a wild cackle and the sound of approaching footsteps. Out of the shadows stepped a man holding a gun and chuckling.

"Well, well, well," drolled a gravelly voice from the strange man, "This is a pleasant surprise, eh? Here I am, trying to catch this supposed freak that works too hard trying to save this doomed city and instead I catch you! Wait..."

The man cackled again. Bruce was panicking, but he hid it well under his Batman persona. He growled again and twitched, attempting to break the net.

"At-ta-ta-ta-tah. We can't have you getting away, now, can we?" the other man said, voice deep and teasing. There was a weird clunking noise and the man held up a gun. Bruce yelped, Batman persona slipping away ever so slightly. The man paused and tilted his head to the side, curiously. His body still hidden in shadow, his expression was virtually invisible, but Bruce could almost feel him smiling. Bruce began to speak, voice strangled but still masked.

"Look... I don't know who you are, but you can't just break into Gotham expecting to get whatever you like!" Batman called, his eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the villain in the shadow.

"Oh... You know me..." the man stepped forward, "Batsy..."

Batman twitched. He recognized, now, that voice. He groaned as he saw the body rise from the corner. The vivid suit of violet and green draped over a lithe body, the white skin the covered the man's face and body, the dark circles around the demonic eyes and the mouth... the lips that were covered in deep red painted and cut from cheek to cheek, forming a mock smile across the crazed face; The Joker had returned.

"Hey, there, puddin'..." The Joker cackled, stepping still nearer to Batman, who snarled and squirmed.

"Stay away from me, you FREAK," Bruce called from behind the mask, Batman slipping away inside of him. The Joker cocked his head to the side and twirled the gun around his finger.

"See... that's not Batman's voice... Just who is it that hides behind that funny little mask?" he sneered and moved across the room, until he was close enough to press his nose against Bruce's, "You don't mind if I check, do you? Of course you don't."

He slipped his hand into the net and twirled his finger around the tip of the ear.

"You don't mind... do you?" he asked before gripping the ear and yanking the mask, up and off of Bruce's face.

Bruce glared, lips raised in a snarl, but he didn't make a sound. The Joker gasped, partly in mocking and partly in true surprise. He circled the net, staring at the unmasked hero in a new light.

"My god... Batsy, you're... well. You know who you are... but... damn..." The Joker broke off, circling Bruce and muttering, "...Bruce Wayne... beautiful... goddamn... sexy beast... hmm..."

Bruce watched the pacing man, slightly confused but assured that the Joker no longer planned to hurt him. He sighed and shook his hair out of his face.

"So, yes, I'm Batman. What do you plan to do?" he asked, still following the Joker with his eyes, "Tell everyone in Gotham and have me locked up?"

"Now there's a good idea... but no... I think..." The Joker stopped so they were standing face to face and leaned in toward him, "I'm just gonna do what I want... and take what I want..."

"Don't you dare-" Bruce started to exclaim, assuming he meant from the city. He froze, eyes wide and shocked, as the Joker reached through the net and grabbed his cheeks, pulling their faces close, leaving merely an inch between their lips. The Joker grinned wickedly.

"Try and stop me, huh?" he said before smashing his lips against Bruce's, kissing him animalistically.

The feeling of grease paint and saliva against his lips made Bruce queasy at first, but as he (dare he say it) got used to it, he found himself being absorbed in the kiss. Slowly, he started to move against the Joker, rubbing their lips together and creating as much friction as possible. The Joker moaned slightly and slid his tongue out to dart across Bruce's lips. Bruce sighed, letting the other man's tongue in, allowing him to explore and taste. He wrapped his tongue experimentally around The Joker's and whimpered. The Joker tasted like blood and something fruity with a trace of alcohol. There was a flavor of rage and lust and something faintly crazy. Bruce loved it.

The Joker was tasting Bruce in return and loving it. Bruce Wayne tasted the way the Joker had always dreamed Batman would, something dark and angry and proud and PURE. But, mixed in with all this, was something lighter, a hint of freedom and pleasure and riches and something so beautiful and amazing that the Joker moaned, melting against the net.

After that, everything was a blur. Bruce had flashes of images - the Joker cutting him down, the two of them stumbling out the shop door, shadowy alleyways and the fire escape next to the motel, and a feeling so pleasurable and hot and satisfying that it made shivers explode along Bruce's spine.

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TBC...

End Note: OMG This turned out so much better than I thought it would be... What do YOU think? Reviews (or comments if you're reading this on DA) are appreciated! Cookies for those awesomes!!