Why So Serious?
A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic
Rating: M, for safety's sake.
Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel
Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs.
A/N: Hello everyone! -dodges rotten carrots- I'm so sorry! I was so caught up in my own affairs that I didn't remember my fans, who love me. For who I am. I had the dentist, The Dark Knight, Wall-E, a wedding, Subway, a coffeeshop, and a chinese restaurant. Forgive me. Please. By the way, I'm badly allergic to carrots. Please do NOT use them as weapons, that's fighting dirty. You know I'm talking to you.
Why So Serious?
"Aha ha ha ha ha! Boy, did you get the wrong number! Leave your name and number at the sound of the shriek."
--The Joker's Answering Machine
Joker's POV
There was a creak and a squeak. What the hell was that? The creak was me taking a step backwards from Wayne, otherwise I was going to sock him. The squeak came from near the ceiling. In this pitchblack, inclosed space, it was impossible to clearly see the source. Wayne gasped,
"Oh no, no no no no. Crap." That doesn't make me feel any better.
"What do you mean, oh no, crap? What the hell is that?" My voice rose a few octaves, damn, I sounded like a girl.
"This... this is... the... the bat room." The what? Hell to the no.
"The bat room? You dragged me into the bat room?! ...what is the bat room?" He gave a nervous laugh.
"Jim needs some real bats for a few shots of Batman every so often. A little under the table trading got him what he needed. When they're done working, the bats come back in here and enjoy homegrown mayflies and crickets. They're fed around 8.. at night. So we might be stuck here, with the... bats... until tonight." I could hear the sound of Wayne shaking from my newly-found, crouched position in the corner.
"Are you.. afraid of bats, Wayne? Batman hates bats? Shocking, a twist I would have never expected." I am really surprised. Bruce Wayne, with all with his money, power, strength, is afraid of something. And bats, of all things. I adjusted my position so that I was sitting down, instead of crouching, and facing Wayne. I asked the important question,
"What happened?" He took a deep, shuddering breath and said,
"I was 8, my dad brought mom and I out to the countryside. Minnesota, I think, and I begged to go exploring. Dad said sure, so I took off, all happy and such. It was a big piece of land, 30 or so acres. Just a temporary summer home until the one in Martha's Vineyard gets redone. I found a shallow pond, full of fish. I decided to go swimming, even though I only had boxers. I was splashing around, and I noticed a little crevice in the rocks surrounding the pool. Being the headstrong kid I was..."
"Still are." I interrupted, shrinking back against the wall. The wingbeats seemed to get closer.
"I wanted to explore, so I crawled inside. It was dark, but surprisingly dry. I heard something and looked up. There was a few hundred bats above me, I screamed, they turned into a hurricane of flapping wings. I was pelted with hairy bodies as I flung myself out of the cave. I ran home in my underwear and didn't leave the house until the last day. I've been afraid of bats since then." He shuddered and I could hear rustling fabric, he was probably pressed against the wall too.
"Wayne... I can't believe I'm saying this, but... it's gonna be alright. They'll find us soon. We're due back at school in three minutes. They're all going to freak out and eventually search this entire building for you." I said, bitterness creeping into my voice in the last sentence.
"You really think so, Joker?" Grr. I try to help him and he calls me names.
"It's Jack, I'm sure you don't care, but at least I'll feel like I tried to convince you." He laughed a little.
"I'll call you, Jack, if you call me Bruce. Or Your Supreme Lord and Master. That'd work too." I joined in with the laughter.
"Okay, Way- Bruce."
Bruce's POV
A second ago I was scared out of my wits. Now I'm easily laughing with the Joker. Oops. Jack. Jack. Jackie. Jackie Chan.
"Hiiiiyaaah." Did I say that outloud? Damn. The Jok-Jack ceased chuckling, and, sounding concerned, asked,
"Bruce, what was that? Was that you?" I sheepishly replied,
"Yeah, I sometimes say things that don't make much sense when I drift into daydreams, like that guy, JD, from Scrubs, you know? Sorry, Jack. Hey, where are you?" I started moving around a little, reaching out. This closet isn't that wide, I found him almost immediately.
"I don't have a TV, so I can't watch Scrubs, but I heard it was good. Hey, watch where you're putting those hands. I might really have to scream rape today." Where were my hands? Oh. Whoops. I quickly withdrew, letting out a nervous giggle.
"Sorry. You really don't have a TV? I always thought everyone had them, except for old hippie families and those really strict Amish people." Hehe. Amish. Funny word, unfunny concept. It would be neat to be Amish. I heard they are really good chefs. I should Alfred about getting an Amish cook.
"Can't afford one. I don't have electricity anyways. Had to chose between that and water. My "home" is a two-room apartment, one room is a bathroom, the other is a bedroom." We both fell silent after that, but for different reasons. Jack, I think I'll call him the Joker in my head, until I get used to the new name, is probably embarrassed that he let out that much information. I'm embarrassed because I feel spoiled rotten. Now I know why the Joker hated me.
"I'm sorry. Um. Can I... can I help in any way?" I probably shouldn't have done that, but, he clearly needs help.
"No. I don't need charity." he snapped at me. Snapped, Joker, the snapping turtle.
"No, but you need help."
"No, I don't... I don't." The Joker sounds so miserable, I just wanna hug him. Where did that come from? I know I'm touchy-feely, but I barely know him. Poor guy. I check out his butt, refer to our situation as ideal for porno, and now I wanna touch him? What's wrong with me. A few squeaks were emitted overhead. I giggled, nervously. Bats. I hate bats.
"Are you okay, Wa-Bruce?" HA! He's also having trouble adjusting to new names. I should probably reply.
"Fine. I just... hate bats." My teeth were chattering I was so scared.
"Cold?" Jack was making the click-clack sounds, too, but again, for different reasons then mine.
"A little. They keep this room chilled to minimize movements of the bats. Slows their heartrate down, you know. We should sit together, you know, conserve body heat." I said that and slowly began crawling towards the Joker. I reached out, expecting to find a wall to steady myself on, my hand only found air. I fell foward, I realised I was about to crush the Joker. Oh no.
Something soft, warm, and slightly damp was pressed against my lips.
A/N: Cliffy, muahaha. I bet most of you have an idea of what might happen next chapter. You're ALL WRONG, or right. Depends on your imagination. Speaking of imagination, use yours to decide where Bruce felt up the Joker. Hey, I've been meaning to apologise for my spelling and grammar errors. I don't have any sort of spellcheck available on my Windows 98. I barely have internet. It's piggybacked off of my parent's.
