Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters featured here from DC comics, I'm just borrowing them for a small pointless fic.
This is the result of discussions on long train rides and many amusing "What If" scenarios. The rating is mostly for language and … stuff.
Tuesday
He'd always thought mornings were somewhat his forte. Not many people could believably claim to function well in the early hours of the day, but Lex Luthor, former President of the USA and owner of LexCorp prided himself on being able to stand above the common man and face mornings with a winning smile and a ruthless shine.
That isn't to say he didn't have his bad days – far and few between though they were.
Someone had filed a fairly annoying lawsuit that had used up most of the coffee and the daily meeting with his board of directors had not gone quite as planned. Sniping was expected – and encouraged – but whining and tearful displays amidst cat-fighting and hair-pulling wasn't even acceptable behaviour for his daughter, much less balding forty-something overweight men in Armani. Disgust could not even begin to portray his feelings on the subject and he'd walked out after five minutes with orders to security to throw the pampered wankers to the pavement.
With time to spare and a rage needing abating, Lex had decided to visit his finance department. It was always managed to cheer him up.
Merely looking at the head of department's face as he approached was enough to forestall any happy thoughts for the rest of the day. Heck, even for the rest of the week.
As he heads for the elevator, he doesn't even look at the file she'd handed him. Her nervous babble meant nothing back then and certainly meant nothing now save: "You're losing money." He doesn't want to look; he just wants to sit down to a nice relaxing early lunch.
So long as the elevator doesn't shut on him.
"Hold up!"
The doors still and he jogs the last few steps to the shiny metal doors, nodding a distracted 'thanks' to the woman who'd held the door open and is now applying makeup with a rather large compact. He doesn't really take much notice, just straightening up his jacket and shuffling the papers in his file as the doors close.
Still, it was rather unusual for him to be so ignored – even in his own building.
Glancing over, Lex notices the rather unusual ensemble the woman wears: a dark purple pinstripe suit with lime green stripes, a matching lime green shirt, red tie and a bright red rose hanging from the jacket pocket. A men's jacket pocket. A rather flat men's jacket pocket. Lex's heart speeds up slightly as he takes in the fluoro green hair slicked back into a tight ponytail at the nape of a very white neck and flinches as the compact closes and he comes face to face with a huge, red grin.
"Lexy-darling!"
"Joker," is his terse reply. Lex tries not to let the vein pop out from his forehead; it is a very unbecoming sight.
The Joker's grin simply widens – a feat impossible for any other creature in existence. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"It's my building."
The Joker blinks and tilts his head. "Well, how 'bout that. That's so neat!"
Despite his iron-clad restraint, Lex's eyebrow twitches. "Was there any particular reason why you're here?"
"I killed my accountant."
A short silence ensues as Lex regards the nonchalant pose of the psychopath.
"Dare I ask why?" he finally ventures.
The Joker simply stares at him as though he were simple. "It's Tuesday. Duh."
"Of course, that explains everything," Lex mutters, turning away. Unfortunately, he can't completely escape the colour-blind menace that has invaded his elevator as all the walls are mirrored surfaces. Every gaze captures the Joker. It's no wonder Batman is so unhinged. From experience, Lex knows spending three seconds in the Joker's presence is hazardous to anyone's mental health.
Lex is desperately cursing the fact that the finance department is so high up. Considering the last time he saw the Gotham villain, the Joker had kidnapped him right from under the Secret Service's noses, Lex is understandably tense. Silences as steel-thick as this should not be physically possible, yet here he stands, not even a metre away from the Joker, a Superman wall between them.
One never relaxed around the Joker with good reason.
As quick as the Flash, the Joker presses the emergency stop button and the elevator stops with a minor jolt. Lex doesn't even bother asking the reasons behind that particular action, and takes quite a lot of pleasure in the disappointed gleam shining in his elevator companion's red eyes. Denying the Joker petty things is always a fun way to rile him.
Still, stuck in cramped enclosed space with a man he despised quite a lot is simply the icing on the cake that is Lex's dreadful morning.
Resigning himself to a long and arduous wait, Lex opens the file and begins to read that month's financial report.
"I wonder if it's possible to kill a man twice."
Lex looks up, frowning at the question. "Do you mean literally?" He is surprised to see the Joker hunkered down on the floor engrossed in a file of his own.
"What other way is there?"
Lex doesn't try to follow that line of logic, and, once again, his curiosity gets the better of him. "Again, why?"
"You have a shitty financial department here Lexy-boy."
"Tell me about it," he mutters. He looks over again, rather curious about the other man's actions. "What exactly are you doing?" he asks cautiously, really not in the mood for any major trials today.
"My taxes," is the surprising reply.
Lex's eyes bug out in shock. The Joker paid taxes? "I thought you had an accountant."
The Joker snorts. "Why else do you think I killed him?"
"Because it's Tuesday?"
"That was just convenient," he waves away. "I mean, I had it all planned out and everything – it was going to be so great. And then wham! It's Tuesday. Everything sort of snuck up on me, so I killed him." He frowns. "To tell you the truth I'm a little bothered by it all. I personally don't care for Tuesdays."
"That's reasonable." Don't lie! Nothing's reasonable around him!
They wait in a rigid silence for a few more minutes. Well, it's tense for Lex in any case – who continuously casts nervous glances at the green haired sociopath beside him. The Joker merely scribbles all over the pages he carries, pursing his lips in thought every so often. Lex can't help flinching as the Joker throws his pen down and stretches with a grin.
"See, Bernie, it wasn't that hard."
Lex really doesn't want to know if he converses with the dead often.
"You normally do your own taxes?" he asks, trying to bring his thoughts back into reasonable territory.
Red eyes catch his own in a sharp gaze, but Lex refuses to look away. "Most people who work for me have the strangest accidents. Sometimes I have to do everything myself. You should know how irritating that is."
"Oh yes."
Sighing, the Joker leans back against the mirrored wall. "So, what sort of crap did they try to sell you?" He gestures to the file in Lex's hand.
The CEO thanks whatever deity is watching over them for the vague moment of sanity plaguing his companion. Outwardly he rolls his eyes and replies, "Somehow, despite this being one of our more stable and productive years, I'm losing money."
"Want me to have a gander?"
Well, really, what harm could it do? It wasn't like they were going anywhere.
Lex hands over the file, the glance he gave it earlier still cursing him with a headache. He hates finances. Money he liked, but he was a scientist first and a rich businessman second. Even then he preferred the atmosphere of the business world rather than the practicalities. He really should be able to find competent people to work for him – LexCorp was one of, if not the, largest corporations in the world. Perhaps he should just take the Joker's lead and slaughter the entire finance department. It would definitely serve as an interesting warning.
The Joker frowns in concentration as he looks the papers over; his pen scratching notes above lines of numbers and in the margins of pages. Lex watches him for a few minutes before pulling out his mobile phone. The lead lining of the elevator makes it impossible to get a call out, but the other features of his phone were available. He plays a few games to pass the time.
"Done," the gleeful chime announced as the Joker stood, straightening his suit.
Lex closes his phone and takes the proffered file. "That was quick," he comments, opening the file to some fairly legible writing.
And doodles.
"Well, most of the report seems in order, though I did have to take a closer looks at a few details. I personally think you have a number of serious cases of embezzlement on your hands – unless you use certain departments to fund your "extracurricular" activities."
"I'm not that stupid," Lex replies absently, not even bothering to glare at the insinuation. His horrified gaze is captured by one particular lifelike rendition drown down the side of the third page of the report. "Is that …" he tilts his head. "Oh good god!"
The Joker continues with his commentary as though the second statement had not been uttered. "I figured as much. You would have outside accounts for that sort of thing. Still, I'd be very worried about your personnel department hiring these sort of people. Some of the mistakes I saw were so stupid – these people really have accountancy degrees?"
"Batman?" Lex asks weakly, completely ignoring everything the Joker is saying now as he points to something on the page.
Looking over to see what has him so fascinated, the Joker grins. "You like? It's one of my favourite daydreams."
"I'm going to need a new therapist," Lex mutters. Flipping over a page he makes an incoherent noise in the back of his throat and pales drastically. "You … you want to do that to Robin?"
The Joker's eyes narrow to slits, the grin suddenly gone. "I think I'm letting him off easy with that one. The back page is my true masterpiece."
Lex shudders and slams the folder shut, determined not to look any more. He coughs into his hand and attempts to regain his composure while blocking the unsightly insights into the Joker's desires from his mind.
"Er, well, besides all that you've actually done a good job with this."
The insane villain polishes his nails against his jacket, looking extremely smug. "Yes, well," he says airily, "Evil genius and all that jazz. No one quite understands what comes along with that overused title besides the psychotic energy and the maniacal laughter."
"Indeed." Lex coughs again. "Well, anyway, would you be at all interested in a job at LexCorp? I'll make you a deal you can't possibly refuse. You can work only when you want and terrorize Gotham as much as you like."
The Joker purses his lips, considering the offer carefully. "Hm, very tempting," he muses, cracking the knuckles of one hand absently. "I'd get an office?"
"Of course."
"Car?"
"Just name the type."
"Huge salary?"
"Better than my executives."
"Paid holidays?"
"That was always a given."
"Hm." He thinks more on the offer before shrugging. "Nope, sorry, have to decline."
Lex tries not to panic a little. "Why not? It's a good offer – no, it's a great offer. No one else could possibly refuse!" Then again no one else was really quite like the twisted psychopath standing before him, nor, did he think, would they want to.
The Jokers sets his hands upon Lex's shoulders gently and shakes his head, a large frown settling upon his features. "I'm sorry Lexy-darling; you'll just have to accept that I'm promised to another." He swoons dramatically, one hand covering his eyes. "I couldn't possibly leave my beloved alone for so long."
Highly irritated, Lex snaps, "Talia Al Ghul calls him that you know."
With a 'Tch!', the Joker snaps back, "Well, Talia Al Ghul is a whiny little brat who doesn't know her place." He crosses his arms angrily. "Besides, I came up with that first." He sticks his tongue out.
At that moment the elevator begins to move again. Lex checks his watch, surprised that half-an-hour has gone by already. Not that he isn't glad, in fact he's cheering loudly in his mind. It was just that, the small amount of time he spent in the Joker's company has resulted in some of his precious sanity becoming lost to him forever, dribbling from his ears sometime in the first few seconds of meeting the clown.
"I suppose this means you'll be leaving then," the other man pipes up in a small voice.
Warning bells go off in Lex's mind at the tone and as the Joker sniffs loudly they turn into a painful shriek. As he bats his eyelashes, hints of tears hiding behind the lids, Lex is almost comatose from the multiple panic buttons of his mind being pushed simultaneously.
"I have to go have lunch," he says slowly and gently, leaning away from his Gotham counterpart.
"Oh, yes, lunch, of course. I understand." A giant pink handkerchief is extracted from somewhere on his person and he blows his nose.
Lex winces. "Good, I'm glad."
The elevator slows, much to Lex's immense relief, and he is ready to dash out of the doors as soon as they open. Just as he is almost free though, the Joker steps in front of him – eyes wide and watery, huge, ugly handkerchief held out before him in supplication.
"I'll never forget the time we spent together," he whispers as the doors slide open with a hiss.
"Please do." Lex pushes past him into the crowded main reception area.
The Joker grabs his arm before he can get far and pulls him back, turning him around for a big, wet, kiss.
With a muffled protest, Lex shoves him away, scattering his file as he scampers backwards, clinging desperately to the closed elevator doors. The entire area has gone silent, watching the CEO's theatrical scene with the strange man.
Staring at Lex for a moment longer, the Joker lets out a huge sob and runs out the main entrance.
Attempting to look as though over the shock of the previous scene, a security guard approaches and asks Lex, "Should we go after him?"
Still too shocked and disturbed to speak, Lex simply shakes his head and mutters, "My therapist is so not going to be able to deal with this." He bends down to retrieve his file, not realising that the folder has fallen open from the back.
He leaps away with a terrified yelp and has to stare at the floor for a long moment with his face in his hands before attempting to gather the file together again. Averting his gaze as much as possible, he rushes to the hideous picture and slams the manila folder shut, shuddering one last time before getting up off the floor.
The reception area is still quiet as they watch Lex's every odd move. He grabs his phone out, hands shaking, thinks for a moment then dials a number, glaring at his workers as he waits for someone to pick up. They all get the hint and start working again. He straightens when he hears a voice on the other end of the line.
"Bruce Wayne please … Lex Luthor. Personal business. Yes, I'll hold."
Taking a deep breath, Lex straightens his jacket and heads towards the main doors, ignoring the skittering feeling tingling his skin where the folder rests under his arm.
"Ah, Bruce," he says as he steps out into the sunlight. "I know this is rather unexpected, but I need a little help with something and you really were the only person who I could think of to ask. I need the name of a good therapist – one who works in Gotham preferably; I think they'd be able to understand the situation best. Oh, and, you wouldn't happen to know the name of a good priest too, would you?"