Title: Chapter One: On Quiet Days Like These
Genre: Internet Chatting, Romance, Humor, Angst, Blood - lots more.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman)/Joker
Rating: This one will most likely range from PG-13 to R. Later scenes will be a lot more intense.
Summary: While browsing the internet on Bruce's day off, he finds a chatting website, and decides 'What the hell, might as well check it out.' After making his account and spiffing up his profile, he searches for a room that fits his needs, and he stumbles upon one that's named 'The BK Lounge.' Good enough, right? So he enters, and he's sitting there, reading the conversations, typing in his own thoughts at the right moments, and suddenly he's talking to this guy who's exactly like him. And the guy lives in Gotham, how coincidental!
Author's Note: Yeah, I kind of made up some of the shit in here. Their birth date's are the actor's who played them, not their's, since I don't know the Joker's or Batman's actual birthday. Hope you like it though! COMMENT PLEASE!
Disclaimer: This stupid disclaimer crap makes me think of how unfamous I really am. No, I don't own Batman :'

On quiet days like these, Bruce didn't really know what to do. The Joker had been still since Sunday, after he decided to blow up a candy store at 6:45 PM, so he'd had three peaceful days to go to work and get stuff done. Today though, he had a day off, and as he took a seat in his computer chair, a bowl of Lucky Charms at hand, still dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms; he stared at the screen and contemplated over what he would do.
Yes, Lucky Charms. Bruce was human too, and he happened to find the marshmallow-y morsels to be tasty. He may not be a kid anymore, but that didn't mean he had to drop all his kid foods too.
He took a spoonful and shoved it into his mouth, licking the milk away as he stared at his computer screen. What to do?
There were no bills that needed to be paid; no business things to be done; nothing. He had nothing to do, and the Joker didn't seem to be on the attack either, so that meant no late night patrols as Batman either. He could go to a party . . . no, let's reface that; he could have a party. But who would he invite? Tons of people who thought they were his friends? Don't I do that anyway?
A sigh escaped his lips as he kicked his feet up onto his desk, leaning back in the chair with a thoughtful expression on his face.
The internet was a very interesting place. He could browse, couldn't he? Bruce set the bowl down beside him and removed his feet from the desk. Pulling himself closer he grabbed the keyboard and brought it forward, and then proceeded to type.

The Joker hated mornings. Especially today, because his head was ringing in his ears, and it irritated him. He hadn't bombarded the city in days, either, so he was growing bored just sitting around. But inall honesty, he just didn't know what to do next. He'd blown everything he could possibly consider blowing up, and no one seemed to be good enough to kill lately. The Joker never ran out of ideas.
He licked his lips in front of the mirror, examining his worn out make-up with fascination. Look at you! You're losing your spark, your creative flare. Your audience is waiting for you, and you're letting them down? You gotta' shape up, gotta get in the mood, Joker.
The Clown Prince frowned deeply at his reflection, and flickered his tongue out to wet his lips. He didn't have that usual glint to his eyes; didn't have that blood lust. Behind the make-up, he was peach colored; human, and he knew it. That's what pissed him off most.
He turned the sink on, let the water pool in his hands, watched it as he brought it up to his face and splashed it against his skin. It didn't take it all off, but that's why he had a towel with him, so he could wipe the make-up away. He made it a slow process though, watching each tendril of paint peel off from the rough surface of the cloth in his hands; watched as he revealed soft, human skin.
He stared into that mirror, at the man looking back at him, and he growled at himself. He hated the way he looked without his make-up. Too human. It made him feel vulnerable, weak, like he was just another man in the world, like he didn't have a purpose.
He grabbed a giant globof the white paint and quickly scrubbed it onto his face, smoothing it over every inch of skin he could find. When he looked back up at himself, he looked like a ghost; a thin, fragile, ghost.
The eyes were next, and he took a small sponge and dabbed it into the black face paint container. He closed his eyes and relaxed as he rubbed it over his eyes, around them, and when he opened them back up the reflection staring back at him in the mirror looked like a freaking raccoon.
An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his eyes licked his lips, looking back at himself, with a forced smile, acting as if it was just a joke. But wasn't life just one, big, fucking joke?
He shook his head, watching his curls wave back and forth, then fall right back into place. They never did anything else. Even when he weighed them down with water, they'd simply dry back into a curly state. It bothered him, but at the same time, it didn't. He didn't really care, but he did. It was complicated. Whatever.
Rolling his eyes he grabbed the stick of lipstick beside his opened face paint cartons, and with a giant smile spread on his face, he smeared it over his lips and scars, and when he finished he sent he blew his reflection a sarcastic kiss. Beautiful as usual, with bruises on your ego.
His stomach broke his stare, as it growled loudly, whining for food in his ear. Food. That's what he needed. Of course, his hunger could never be suppressed by normal human food. No. He'd need to kill some people too, which is probably why his appetite had grown a little haywire lately. Shut up, you greedy bastard.
He patted his clothed tummy gently, as if it was a dog, and he whispered little nothings to it.
Now, what the hell was there to eat? The Joker pursed his lips as he exited the bathroom and entered the sorry excuse for a kitchen. It wasn't his apartment - he'd killed the owner three days ago after that candy parlor heist, and he'd stolen the key and made it his temporary place to chill.
The cupboards were full of food, and his eyes roamed over the boxes of cereal, until he found a box of Reese's Puffs that caught his attention. That's something he hadn't had in a while. He grabbed the box and kicked the fridge door open, grabbing the half full jug of milk from its place on the shelf.
A bowl. He needed some kind of bowl to eat his cereal in. Searching the cupboard, he found his prize, and poured the small crunchy peanut butter and chocolate bites into his bowl, and then smothered it in milk. His smile grew in size as he watched the small puffs drown in the white liquid, and suddenly realizing his bowl was practically overflowing, he stopped what he was doing and stared at his mess. "How sad."
Shrugging, he grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer and his bowl, and made his way to the living room. There was a TV in there, a couch, and a computer on a desk, and spin-y chair that was for the computer. He eyed the piece of technology called a 'computer,' and clicked his tongue in thought. "How . . . civilized."
He half skipped over to the small chair, letting his milk and cereal splosh about in the bowl, leaking over the edges, but he ignored it as he plopped down into the chair and spun around a couple times. Satisfied with his work, he stopped with his foot, and stared at the screen before him, bringing his spoon up and shoving it into his mouth.
"I don't think I've ever used one of these doo-hickeys before."
His lips suddenly twitched, as a large smile grew on his face.
"Wonder what I could find on this so-called internet."

He'd found a chatting website. Didn't know if he wanted to go on it. Fought between himself, one side of him saying how childish it would be, the other saying, who really gives a shit.
"Why not?" Bruce grunted to himself, staring at the screen that was asking him for his preferred username and what would be his password. "It's just a chatting website."
His tongue flickered out of his mouth and licked his lips, but suddenly he realized what he had just done.
Bruce's eyes widened, and slowly, he reached his hand up to touch his lips. Just like him. He flinched when his hand touched his wet lips. Had he really just done that? He's rubbing off on you, Bruce.
The brunette shook his head, "I'm making an account."
Username: DarkKnight34
Password: 01bat30man74
First Name: Bruce
Last Name:
He paused. Nobody needed to know his last name. Then everyone would be bothering him, asking him if he really was the all-mighty billionaire Bruce Wayne. Lie. It's alright.
Last name: Dayne
He actually allowed himself to snort at the sorry attempt at a fake last name. You're real creative, Bruce.
Email:
ZIP/Postal Code: 13067
Country: US
D.O.B: January 30, 1974
Gender: Male
Enter the text you see in the image below: kekxf
Have you read and accepted the terms and conditions? Yes, I fucking have.
Click: Continue.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, as he stared with some kind of triumphant air to him at the screen that now read 'We have sent you a confirmation email.' Lips twitching in a smirk, he went off to check his email.
And the childish games begin.

Username:
The Joker stared with a frown at his computer screen. What the hell was he getting himself into? He clucked his tongue as he rolled his eyes, slowly settling them back on the screen as he stared at that one simple little word. What the hell was he getting himself into
Username: Sangx
Password: ididyourmomandilikedit
First name: Jack
Last name: Ripper
Ok, so maybe not. He pushed the backspace button and erased the last name.
Last name: Nickle
What? It sounded practical.
Email: What the fuck is an email?
He groaned loudly. You had to have all this shit to make one freaking account on some stupid website. Erasing what he had put, he scrolled up and clicked on another tab to go find this email thing. They were definitely testing his patience.
He clicked the first thing that caught his attention, some yahoo shit, and up popped a login screen. So he clicked the 'create an account' and guess what? More fucking questions!
This is going to take forever!

He didn't exactly know what he was doing, but he knew he didn't want to talk to a bunch of rambunctious, horny teenagers. So he clicked on this chat place for adults, and next he had to choose a room. How delightful.
It was sarcastic, but he was getting kind of aggravated with all this stupid, nonsense. Scrolling down he looked through the room names. None of them really appealed to his better half. Things like 'Love Boat' and other weird crap where you could have cyber sex. Yes, he knew about that stuff. He wasn't that freaking old.
Instead he found a room called 'The BK Lounge' and it made him laugh.
It also made him remember his cereal, which was sitting beside him, becoming soggy from absorbing much of the milk. Oops.
He shrugged the soggy cereal off, and instead clicked on the chat room. Up popped a loading screen, and he waited patiently for a moment, before up popped a large site with lots of text popping up every second. His eyebrows rose as he read some of the things being said.
"A. S. L?"
Maybe he was getting older, because even the old people knew computer text . . . crap.
A sigh escaped his lips, and he ran his hands up his face and through his hair. What are you getting yourself into?

"Finally!"
The Joker had done it. He had created an account. It took him ten minutes over all to get that email shit done, but he did it!
He sauntered back in his seat with a smug, victorious smile on his face. The Joker - One. Technology - ZILCH!
"Now what do I do . . .?" He stared at the screen asking him what room he wanted to chat in. Teens?
He shook his head and clicked on the adults section. There were plenty of rooms to choose from, but he wasn't looking for crap like 'Love Boat'. His eyebrows rose far up his head as he wrinkled his nose. So this is for people who are outcasts that can't find love in the real world, and come here searching for a good internet fucking. How pathetic.
He sniggered as he clicked on a sensible looking room. 'The BK Lounge.'
His stomach growled at the thought of Burger King. A smile rose to his face as a sudden plot rose in his head. Batman and him could have take-out together. That uncontrollable tick came again, and he licked his lips, the thought becoming delicious in his mind. Burger King it is. Remember that, Joker. You're going to high-jack a fast-food restaraunt later.
Mental note in place he focused back in on the text popping up everywhere. It was just a bunch of horny adults that couldn't get in the real world, so they sought out a good fuck here. Human beings were all the same.
He clucked his tongue as he looked for anyone worth talking to on this crappy website.
Ugh!
He set his fingers down on the keyboard and began to type.
Sangx: Is there anyone smart on this shitty website I can talk to?
ButterflyLady546: Wat, ur too high and mighty 4 us?
The Joker smirked at the screen and typed a reply.
Sangx: You're right. So why don't you shove those butterflies up your ass.
Maybe he would have some fun with this pathetic website . . .

Bruce couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he read the last line on the page.
Sangx: You're right. So why don't you shove those butterflies up your ass.
He quickly started to type his own little statement.
DarkKnight34: He does have a point.
PoisonDarts4: If u didn't want to talk to normal peeple, why did u come here?
"Peeple?" Bruce rose both brows in question.
Sangx: Well . . . I thought normal people were smarter than this. U CaN't EvEn SeEm 2 tYpe sMrT. Was that too complicated for you? Want me to tone it down a bit?
ButterflyLady546: Fuck off, bitch.
Sangx: If I was a female dog on a computer, than I'd be really famous right now. Don't you think so?
Bruce smiled at the screen. This guy was starting a freaking war, and he just entered the chat room. Look at all the people ganging up on him. He was fending off like twenty different people, and winning.
DarkKnight34: A./S/L Sangx?
Yes. Bruce had to ask what that meant the first time, but now he knew. He was no longer an old man who wasn't with it. I suppose . . .
Sangx: Excuse me? A/S/S?
DarkKnight34: Ha, ha, you're hilarious. Age/Sex/LOCATION.
Sangx: Don't get cocky. 26/M/And I don't think you need to know that little tid-bit. For all I know, you could be some kind of psychotic rapist.
DarkKnight34: You wish, don't you?
What was Bruce saying? Jesus, he was smiling and talking to some guy he didn't know like he had known him forever. How funny.
Sangx: Frisky, are we? What about you, big boy. A/S/L?
Suddenly no one else's typing mattered to him.
DarkKnight34: How about we talk privately?
Sangx: We just met and you already want to unzip your pants and jerk-off? How amusing. Fine. Delight yourself in talking to me privately.
Bruce smirked.
DarkKnight34: Don't flatter yourself. I'm just saying, as you said, you wanted to talk to someone smart.
Bruce ignored the guy's last statement as he sent an invitation for a private conversation. His veins almost bust from anxiousness as his invitation was accepted, and up popped a little chat screen, the first of their new, private conversation starting.
Sangx: It's rude to ignore someone when they're typing to you . . .
DarkKnight34: 34/M/And I don't feel the need to tell you, since you didn't tell me.
Sangx: Mm . . . okay. I'll roll with you on that. Jeez, you're old, though.
DarkKnight34: And you're young and arrogant as ever, aren't you?
Sangx: I think that's what made you attracted to me, though. You did want to talk to me privately.
This guy was making him angry with all these sexual jokes.
DarkKnight34: Look, kid, I'm not gay, so quit implying it.
Sangx: Wasn't implying anything. Never said you were. And who said I was?
DarkKnight34: I guess I apologize then.
Sangx: You should, you broke my heart.
DarkKnight34: Better find someone to sew it back up, then.
Sangx: Nah. I'll bleed it out.
Bruce eyed that last statement. He smiled just a bit. This guy was cool, in a way.
DarkKnight34: Isn't that a song?
Sangx: You tell me? The last song I listened to that was in, is 'I Kissed a Girl'. And that fucking song gets annoying after a while.
DarkKnight34: But it does sound hot. Anyway. It's by Linkin Park. Good band. Good song. You should check it out.
Sangx: Maybe I'll check you up on that one.
DarkKnight34: You should.
Sangx: Are you bossing me around?
DarkKnight34: I can play your game.
What was he saying?
Sangx: I like games. What game is it we're playing, do tell?
DarkKnight34: . . . You remind me of someone I know.
Bruce settled back in his chair. This guy seemed so familiar, yet at the same time, he wasn't. How was that?

The Joker was having fun, with some guy he didn't even know. He especially got a kick out of the guy's username. DarkKnight34. How corny. Then again, his was a bit dull too.
A tiny noise emitted from his speakers, notifying him that the guy had commented.
DarkKnight34: Is your name in French? Does it mean 'blood'?
The Joker paused for a moment, staring at the screen, a startled expression on his face. Who was this guy? He typed back eagerly, because out of these past three days of doing nothing, this was the most exciting thing he'd done in a while.
Sangx: Looks like someone actually did go to college. Do you speak French?
DarkKnight34: You have to know different languages if you want to make it in this world.
Sangx: Tch. I wouldn't know any French even if it bit me in the ass. I just looked it up, because you know, it's kind of hard coming up with stupid little useless usernames. What inspired you to be a Dark Knight?
DarkKnight34: As you said. It's hard coming up with a stupid little username.
His lips pulled up in a sneer as he mumbled something under his breath. His eyes slid over to the corner of the screen, and he noted it was already past 3:00 in the afternoon. Out of his mouth came his tongue, sliding over his bottom lip involuntarily.
Sangx: I will say, it's 3:23 where I live. And I have to leave by four. So, with this stated, is there anything you'd specifically like to talk to me about?
DarkKnight34: Yeah, it's 3:23 here too. And no, I can't think of anything specific. What's so important at four?
"Three twenty-three . . ."
Sangx: Do you perhaps live in . . . Gotham?

Bruce froze. Gotham? Of course he lived in Gotham, but how did this guy know?
DarkKnight34: What if I said I did?
Sangx: Hm. It's a small world after all.
DarkKnight34: You live here?!
Sangx: You could call it living if you wanted to. There's someone I just could never bring myself to leave behind, I guess. They're too much fun.
"Too much fun . . .?"
Bruce was getting a little too excited for his britches. There was one question he wanted to ask this guy so badly. He needed to know his opinion.
DarkKnight34: What do you think on the subject of Batman?

"Batman." The Joker let the identity of his favorite mammal roll around in his mouth, tingling his tongue. A crooked smile crawled over his face. "Oh, Batsy."
The name made him groan with unwanted and unrequited pleasure.
His smile fell an unpleasant one.
Sangx: Just another crazy man in tights roaming around the city. What about you? What about that Joker character?
What a horrible liar he was.

Another crazy man in tights . . . I guess that's what a lot of people felt about him.
Bruce felt the snarl rise up his throat. Felt himself grow angry, restless, anxious at his arch-nemesis' mentioning. That name was like a ticking time bomb inside of him. Every time he saw that painted face his insides twisted and turned, his veins threatened to explode from adrenaline, and he became something akin to -
DarkKnight34: A monster. He's a spoiled-brat who's begging for attention, and the only kind he's getting is negative, so he's clinging to it. I wish Batman would just finish him up . . .
Bruce stared at his screen. How funny. I wish I could just finish him . . .
DarkKnight34: What about you? What do you think about the Joker?

The actual Joker wrinkled his nose and growled. A spoiled-brat? Is that what people thought about him?! He was of no such thing! He was simply a funny man in a boring world. A turn of events in an unchanged setting, and this unchanged setting just couldn't handle his brand new view of the world. It wasn't his fault the world couldn't take a joke. And he wasn't a monster - he was just ahead of the curve.
Sangx: I think he needs to be punished. What do you think should happen to Batman?
He hated the world.Remind me to blow up Burger King, and Taco Bell.
DarkKnight34: Gotham doesn't need him.
The Clown Prince stared with a calm, contemplative look in his eyes; his tongue rolling over his bottom lip.
This man was right.
Gotham didn't need Batman. He needed Batman.
All for himself. He wanted Batman to pay attention to him and nothing but him.
Was it so much to ask for?
Sangx: I need to get going now. I should head out early so I'm at work on time.

DarkKnight34: Where do you work?
He frowned at the screen.
Sangx: I work at my job.
He smiled, but didn't laugh.
DarkKnight34: Will I . . .
There was a very long moment where neither end spoke.
Sangx: Will you what?
DarkKnight34: Will you be on tomorrow?
Sangx: Desperate to talk to me that much? Got no life of your own?
DarkKnight34: No. Believe me, I have a life. I just get bored easily.
Sangx: Yeah. Sure. I'll think about it. I have a life of my own, too, after all. I can't always be a shoulder for you to cry on.
DarkKnight34: I must brush off as the desperate type to you, then, because that's certainly not something I would ever do. Tears are something I don't have much time for.
Bruce waited for a response, dragging the conversation out as long as possible. When the man on the other side said nothing, he sighed, and typed.
DarkKnight34: Talk to you later, or something.
Sangx: My Dark Knight turned out to be a loser wrapped in aluminum foil, because you sure as hell aren't a Dark Knight.
Bruce raised both eyebrows.
Sangx: Yeah, I'll . . . possibly, maybe, I don't know - talk to you tomorrow. By then I hope you'll change your name to DesperateLoser34.
And then it said 'Sangx has left.'
Bruce leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms up in the air, leaning his head back on them. What an interesting character.

The Joker stood from his chair and stabbed the button that turned the computer off with his thumb, and proceeded over to the coat rack where he grabbed his purple, velvet jacket and slipped his hands inside. Setting a hat on his head, he smiled as he made his way for the door.
"Time to go meet the real Dark Knight at the real BK lounge."