Batman is owned by DC Comics.
This is just a late-night drabble that came to me as I was watching TDK yet again... I promise to have a new chapter of Jeremiah's Well up soon. Scout's honor (even though I was never a scout).
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No Way!
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"Hands up, pretty boy!"
Bruce barely even registered the words, just the cry of pain as he grabbed the barrel of the man's rifle in one hand and sent its butt into the fellow's gut with the other. Another blow for good measure, a hit to the head, and the idiot with pantyhose stretched over his face was down. The falling form sent a dull thud through the air as the billionaire stalked onward, its sound interrupted by the clattering noises as he dropped the disassembled parts of the rifle to his tile floor.
He didn't pause to think of what stories the clown could later tell someone. It was hard to worry overmuch about his secret identity while the love of his life was in the party room with that maniac Joker. Rachel was many things, but cautious was not one of them—no doubt she'd do something stupid to save a stranger if he didn't act quickly.
Besides, what was the thug going to say later? I was beaten up by that wimpy playboy, Bruce Wayne?
At the end of the hall was his bedroom—and from there, the security of his "safe room," where his suit was waiting for him. The Joker didn't know whom he was messing with; Bruce intended to leave the clown more unconscious than the idiot out in the hall.
When he entered his bedroom, however, making a beeline for the saferoom's hidden door, the sight of two of his guests greeted him. A man and a woman, each adjusting particular… items… of their clothes, looking frazzled and slightly embarrassed at being caught. This in and of itself wasn't unusual—the fact that they were doing so in his bedroom, in front of his bed, was.
Eww. Gross.
They were doing "it" on his bed? No way! Granted, he barely slept there, if he slept at home at all. Not that they could have known that. But… come on. This was his home, and his bedroom… were they really doing what it looked they'd been doing? These people had no sense of decency or privacy! They hadn't even shut his door—and, come to think of it, he was glad that the Joker's gunshot had obviously alerted them that something was wrong, because otherwise he just as easily could have happened upon something even more disturbing.
"What's going on out there?" the man asked, "Wayne?"
Fortunately not even this shocking sight could halt the Batman in his tracks. Nevertheless, as he pressed his thumb to the hidden spot on the wall, opening the saferoom's panel, Bruce found that his mind was still struggling to come to terms to this new information. The last thing the billionaire heard, as the door to the saferoom slammed shut, was the woman's exclamation of "Oh, thank goodness you've got a panic room—"
Note to self, he thought, Next time I throw a party, be sure to lock my bedroom door.
000 . Author's Note . 000
I would've freaked if I came upon that scene, let me tell you—I would've forgotten about Rachel and the Joker entirely. Just goes to show you I'd be a sucky superhero. XP