Secretary's Complaint

Summary: In which Wendy has a few choice words for Joker regarding her new behaviors and role in the upcoming series…of events, that is.

Disclaimers: Sadly, I did not think up any of these people. They are used here without permission, as no one in their right mind would approve something like this. :o)

Joker looked up from the file he was flipping through at the sound of a soft, hesitant knock on the door, followed by a dismayed shriek and a loud thump. He smiled fondly.

"Yes, come in."

At this granting of permission, the door burst open and a young woman with a longish mass of blonde hair stormed into the office, carrying a thick bundle of papers, and generally creating quite a bluster, both by her fairly clear annoyance and by the act of tripping over the edge of the area rug and sending the papers flying in every direction.

Nothing daunted, she hastily gathered up the bundle, set the rug to rights, and proceeded to storm the rest of the way across the room to Joker's desk.

"Is there something the matter, Wendy?" he asked, hiding an amused smile.

She glared at him as frostily as one can possibly glare at the love of one's life.

"Actually, there is. I've just received the outline of my new characterizations, and to be brutally frank, Mr. Joker, I think they're maybe not quite so good!"

Not managing to hold back a smile this time, Joker picked up a file and pretended to study it closely.

"I see. Well, it does make sense that they should be, as you say, 'not so good'. After all, you are turning evil."

"But I don't want to turn evil!" she wailed, eyes becoming slightly wobbly with tears. "I've never been evil before! I wouldn't know where to begin! I did steal a candy bar from another girl when I was little, but it was only because she stole my lunch and then tripped me while I was going up to the front of the classroom to solve a math problem on the board! I think anyone would have done the same under those circumstances, and I'd hardly call something like that 'evil' so much as a petty childhood prank!"

He sighed, sweeping a hand back over his hair and rising from his chair.

"As much as I understand your discomfort with the idea, there is little to be done about it. And after all," he continued with a comforting smile, "it isn't as though you're alone here. I'm the one who wants to take over the world in an exceedingly strange way, remember."

"But at least that's nice and ambitious. It has a grandiose sound to it. I'm just turning evil so I can follow you around like an obedient little pet!"

"At least they're not making you wear a collar," he said consolingly, hiding a grin.

"A collar?!" she sputtered. "They had better not, or I'll…I'll make life really inconvenient for them!"

"Yes, this will definitely be a process," Joker murmured to himself, plagued by unsettling, yet oddly adorable images of Wendy crawling under a table in a café to tie some hero of justice's shoelaces together, or throwing eggs at that same hero's car as it sped past, or getting all set up to make an evil speech, and then tripping on her own shoelaces (despite the fact that most of her shoes had none) and landing in a disheveled, vaguely provocative pose.

"Well, I will," she reiterated, crossing her arms and pouting.

"I believe you, Wendy," he said, patting her soothingly on the back.

"Downright unpleasant, I'd say."

"Of course."

"I will!"

"I know," he assured her mildly.

"But not only am I turning evil for a desperately stupid reason, I have to get really, really dull!"

"Dull?" he repeated, startled. He recalled the sketches for some of her costumes, and although it bore mentioning that Joker had always had unique tastes where women were concerned - he tended to gravitate to girls with a strong sense of servitude - those sexily prim little can-do business suits didn't exactly call up dull in his mind. "How so?"

"Oh, come now, it's fairly obvious," she said, exasperated. "I'm kind of fun and quirky and cute, if a little irritating now, but I'm going to get really bitter and terse and conflicted and angsty and all those silly things! No wonder that poor little boy we're going to shove the books into will be afraid of me!"

Before Joker could formulate a response to this definite contender for one of the strangest sentences uttered in the last ten minutes, she continued.

"What does Mr. Gentleman think of his new characterizations, by the way?"

"I don't think he was impressed," Joker said thoughtfully. "He said it was very, very boring, being books. Although, he did seem to get a good deal of amusement out of The Book of Pulsing Meat, for some reason."

He shrugged, baffled, as Wendy put a hand over her mouth to stifle a snicker.

"I'd read it," she said mischievously.

Joker looked aghast.

"Wendy!"

"Sorry," she said contritely, wondering how on earth she kept saying things like this aloud without any seeming involvement from her brain.

"You can't read Mr. Gentleman," Joker continued severely. "How disrespectful!"

"Er…right," she murmured, quite gratefully letting the subject drop. "But honestly, Mr. Joker, don't these new characterizations bother you?"

He sighed.

"Of course they bother me, Wendy. I'm going to transform from a more-or-less likeable, if relentlessly unflappable and polite British guy, to a slimy, manipulative, cruel bastard British guy. I'm going to use everyone around me to my own advantage, including you—"

"R-really," she murmured, slightly breathless and blushing brightly.

"I'm going to betray almost everyone I come across at least once—"

"Oh, really!" she said viciously, eyes narrowing.

"Present company aside, of course, although blatantly using you to my advantage can be seen as a betrayal of sorts."

"Now, I'm in complete favor of the 'using me to your advantage' part, as long as it involves a locked door and a hasty removal of clothing…"

"Basically," Joker continued, ignoring this with great difficulty, as a hasty removal of clothing was one of his favorite pastimes, so long as it involved her as well, "I'm going to become the living embodiment of every negative quality of men in general!"

Wendy looked stricken.

"Oh, no! You're going to guzzle beer constantly, watch football, and communicate in grunts?!"

He sighed.

"Almost every negative quality of men in general."

"So, you're going to buy a convertible and listen to rap music excruciatingly loudly and cruise around with a lot of vacuous waitresses who wear halter tops and miniskirts?!"

Joker made an impatient noise.

"I'm turning evil, Wendy, not having a midlife crisis."

"Then that means…oh, no! You're going to wear a polyester leisure suit, lots of heavy gold chains, smoke a cigar, and call me 'cupcake' and 'toots'?!"

He blinked.

"I hesitate to ask what sort of men you've been spending your time with."

"Good, because I don't want to talk about it," she said vehemently, voice sounding nearly teary.

"Look; what it all boils down to, is that we'll simply have to try to make the best of a bad situation. That's what I've decided to do. No matter how unpleasant it is to be evil, there have to be good points, right?"

"I suppose so," Wendy agreed reluctantly. "You don't have to worry so much about common courtesy, because you're already doing so many significant bad things that there's no point to apologizing when you trip over a squirrel and accidentally knock someone over on the street."

"Y-yes, that's a good point," Joker said kindly. "If that sort of thing will help you through this, then by all means, focus on the…the inalienable right to rough up passers-by. Although, I must admit that I had in mind more the sordid and indecent behavior that people have come to expect from villains."

She came to a dead halt in the act of hopping up to sit on his desk, and stared at him, the beginnings of a blush sweeping over her face.

"Sordid and indecent behavior?"

"Well, yes. Of course. Isn't it always implied that the villains are conducting steamy and hypnotically sexy encounters, with just a hint of sadomasochism and dominant/submissive aspects to them?"

Wendy was silent for a moment, considering this.

"Well, I wouldn't really call them 'hypnotic', and we don't play so much with sadomasochism and dominant/submissive, but don't we do that anyway? Honestly! When are we not doing…encounters, if you like, behind the scenes? Wasn't Mr. Gentleman getting annoyed with you just the other day because you take so long to answer the telephone?"

"I have to take the time to put on pants," Joker explained, sounding scandalized at the thought of doing anything else. "Can you imagine, talking to Mr. Gentleman without pants?"

"No, no, I can't," she replied quite decidedly. "By no stretch of the imagination. In fact, I don't think there's enough imagination on the planet for me to be able to imagine going to talk to Mr. Gentlemen without pants."

"Good!" Joker said rather fiercely. "I would like that sight to remain mine, and I've never shared well with others."

"He wouldn't care! He's books now!"

"Yes, but he's very special books."

"Right," she sighed. "He's very special books. Still, I think what I was trying to get at – although it's quite lost now – is that having…goings-on behind the scenes isn't much of a reason to turn evil when you're doing it anyway."

"Quite true, Wendy, but now we won't have to be so discreet about it."

"We're not discreet now! You don't even lock the door to your office, which is why people grin knowingly at me in the hallway all the time, and that scary old janitor has asked if I'd like to be his new 'missus', because I apparently have a 'right smart way of stepping', and 'good child-bearing hips'."

"Note to self," Joker murmured, glaring at nothing in particular. "After we've turned entirely evil, have that janitor shot."

"You should probably write that down," she suggested mildly.

"Quite right. Wendy, write that down for me, would you? Come to think of it, Wendy, how do you think you'd be using a gun?"

"I was good at paint-ball as a child!" she said excitedly.

"That's…that's very good," he said indulgently. "And how do you think you would do with a gun?"

"Oh, because you've taken into account the enemies the British Library will be making, and you want all of us to be able to protect ourselves," she said, nodding wisely.

He hesitated.

"Er, yes, of course. But…just for interest's sake, how would you feel about becoming a cold-blooded killing machine, ruthlessly eliminating everyone who got in my way or just generally annoyed me?"

"That's a strange question," she noted seriously. "As for becoming a cold-blooded killing machine, I'm not sure. Would it give me a plethora of social issues and make me doubt the very nature of life and death as I wandered the streets in a long black coat, wishing for redemption, or at least the sweet release of the grave that I'm able to give to others but not to myself?"

Joker blinked, quite startled by all this.

"Hmm…perhaps the cold-blooded killing machine is a bit much," he admitted.

"Yes, I think so," she agreed sadly. "Do you think I could just annoy them a little on the bus?"

"I suppose it's a start," he sighed. Then he brightened. "Either way, how would you like to…er…reap some of the benefits we've discussed?"

She clasped her hands, eyes growing wide, shiny, and adoring.

"We get to go have a goings-on?!"

Joker glanced carefully over his shoulder, and then turned back to the girl perched on the edge of his desk.

"Well, we don't exactly have to go anywhere…"

She looked mildly irritated.

"Alright, but can you please make sure you haven't left any stray paper-clips lying about this time? There's nothing quite like little bits of cold metal to completely spoil the mood."

"Very well," he shrugged. "Although, as I recall, you got back into that mood with considerable ease…"

"I think that thing you did with your tie helped quite a bit," she admitted, blushing brightly.

He stared at her curiously.

"Ah. You enjoyed that part, did you? Well, that ought to be helpful."

"Although…" She hesitated.

"Yes?" he prompted. "Although, what?"

"It…it might be nice if you keep a pocket knife or something around the next time we try it, for just in case we can't get the knot untied again. Not the most dignified position to be caught in, really…"

A hint of a blush swept over Joker's face.

"Yes…who would have dreamed that someone would choose that exact moment to visit my office?"

"Well, we were in here for a few hours straight, you know," she reminded him seriously.

"And then another one to get you untied from my chair," he added with a vaguely wicked smile. "It was nice of Phil to help, though, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was, and it was even nicer of him to keep that little incident to himself."

"So," he said quite conversationally, moving in closer in one sudden movement and wrapping one arm around her while his other hand pushed a bit of hair away from her eyes. "How shall we begin?"

"The paper-clips," she reminded him edgily.

"Very well, although you might have to hop off for a moment."

She hopped accordingly, and the next minute, flinched at a series of loud crashes as he swept everything from his desk, clearly too distracted by the prospect of replacing the clutter with a willing and eager young woman to worry about the mess this had caused.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to clean that up," she said, eyeing the pile of random clutter.

"This office hasn't been tidied up in fifteen years," he said, glancing about the room disinterestedly. "I'm sure a few more hours won't matter."

"A few hours!" she exclaimed on her way from standing in front of the desk to being thrown down on top of it. "Oh, my…"

Eight Hours Later…

"And you see, Wendy, that is the difference between normal goings-on and evil goings-on," Joker said in what might be considered an unsuitably brisk and business-like tone, given the clothing strewn about the floor and thus not on them.

She sat up dizzily, still seeing spots and wondering when and if her knees might stop shaking sufficiently to stand.

"I rather like evil goings-on…" she admitted breathlessly.

"Yes, I thought you might," he said with a chuckle. "I must admit, I do as well, although I think I did some damage to my leg on that last…er, round. I suppose there's a reason they recommend that particular position for circus performers only. Ah, well. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix, I'm sure."

"So, is there anything I have to sign, or do I just start acting a little eviler?"

"Do what comes naturally," he replied, hunting up his trousers from the pile of clothing on the floor and finding them woefully torn. He would have to have a word with her about being a little gentler…

She looked up at him abruptly, coming to a dead stop in the act of realizing that she was wearing the wrong shirt, which quite explained why it seemed a little loose.

"Whatever comes naturally, you say? Yes, sir!"

With that, she shoved him back down on the desk and proceeded to rip his pants even more woefully in the effort to get them away from him and across the room as soon as possible.

Joker permitted himself a quick, out-of-character grin, immediately forgetting why having ones only pair of trousers shredded by an overly-enthusiastic female was a bad thing.

"Oh, my…"

End Notes: And now we see the kind of thing that can be expected when Rhianwen attempts to write a transition piece between ROD and ROD TV. Oh, yeah! Angst-free as always! This aside, I really hope someone else out there snickered at The Book of Pulsing Meat while watching the series, or that joke will really fall flat. So to speak. :o)