eeeeeeeeeey lmao


This...was actually kind off fun. Johanna was in the most impossible place to get into -she couldn't pronounce it-, with Bruce Wayne of all people, and sipping her second-third- mimosa. The dinner was short and sweet, and by far the most decadent meal she'd ever had in her life. And her company was spectacular. Bruce was actually a polite, somewhat flirty, guy. It kind of knocked her through a

loop, especially from all that she'd heard, but that might've been the mimosas.

"You alright?"

Johanna was snapped from staring into space. "Oh, um, yeah. I'm just...I feel like I'm drinking stars. And you are a surprising person, Bruce."

He looked amused, "How so?"

"Well," she said, quickly taking another sip of her drink," I heard that you are charming, a bit of a ladies man. And now that I've spent the past 3 hours with you, I think I can

rightly say that you are very charming, and very much a ladies man, since quite a few lovely young have been staring awfully long in your direction, and I feel like I'm going to swoon. But that might be the stars I'm drinking."

"Perhaps," he chuckled," I am flattered." He looked down at his watch. "It's getting late, I should should take you home."

She hummed in response, feeling very fuzzy. As she stood up, he offered his arm, and she gladly took it as he led her to the coatroom, both the silent. The silence continued

in the town car as she was driven home. She leaned gently on his shoulder, marveling at how broad and sturdy it was. The car slid to a stop in front of her building. Bruce helped her out of the the car, and walked with her up to her door.

"I'm not that drunk, Bruce. I can walk to the door," she joked.

"I know. I'm attempting to be a gentleman," he responded, with a laugh.

"Well, thank you for tonight. It was wonderful," she said, taking a small step to the entrance. "I had a great time."

"It can happen again," he replied.

"Are you asking me out for another date?" she asked with a smile.

"You could say that. Friday at 9?"

"Sure. See you then."

Bruce smiled," See you then."

She waved goodbye and entered the building. As soon as his car was gone, she crept back out. 'I am so late,' she thought to herself as she made her way to the music hall, slightly stumbling a little. 'I hope he doesn't mind. It's not like I could've called him. He doesn't have a phone or whatever.' It took her a little longer than usual to get to the music hall, but she hoped he wouldn't mind. She was already more than hour late; what was 20 minutes?


She certainly wasn't in her apartment, nor was she at work. So the Music Meister lounged on her couch, trying to look menancing and stern. Fortunately the window was unlocked, and allowed him quick entrance. When she got in she was not going to be happy that he broke in. Her cat was already displeased; he was sitting on the coffee table, glaring him down. Did it even blink?

No matter, when she got in he was going to- was that a car door?

Since her apartment was on a corner of the building with on side to the front of it, he could hear whatever was going on below. He jumped to the window, and, shoving away the curtain, looked outside. Johanna was on the front steps, still in her work clothes, and she was grinning ear to ear at a tall fellow in a dark suit. They appeared to be having a good time. The Music Meister frowned.

"Who in the world is that?" he growled. Some bourgeoisie guy was moving in on his protege! How dare he! How dare she! He had to-

'No,' he reminded himself,' you don't have to do anything. You made a deal- no interfering with her personal life.'

Granted, he had already breached the 'no hiding at her place' clause, but that was a live or go back to Arkham deal. He continued his watch. The two down below appeared to have agreed on something,

and the man in the suit entered his car, and Johanna entered the building. 'Ha! Now let's - what?' He watched as Johanna snuck out of the building in the direction of the music hall.

"So now we decide to show up," he said, and crept out of the window.


Johanna pushed on the stage door, half expecting it to have been locked, but found it open. She made quick work of entering and shutting the door, then headed to the stage, which was still fully lit.

"Heeeeeeey M.M.? You here? I'm back. I know I'm a liiiittle late, and I'm also a little tipsy, so I'm sorr- actually I'm not. Mimosas are good," she called out to no one in particular. She walked to the organ keyboard. "I've been meaning to mention: those pants you wore at my place last week were my ex's. He forgot to take them. What a jerk." She started giggling, unaware of the shadow reaching up behind her.

"Are you even he-," she was cut off as she turned around and was pinned to the organ keyboard. The organ came to life as two hands pressed forcefully on the keys. Music Meister's face was close to her's, and he was scowling.

"Where. Were. You. " he said slowly. She fidgeted under his gaze, and wished he would move.

"I was on a date? No big deal," she said with a shrug.

"No big deal? It's practically midnight! You missed this lesson!," he shouted, backing away from her.

"Why are you so upset? It's just one lesson. Besides, if Bruce Wayne asked you out-"

"Bruce Wayne? You honestly went out with him?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"He's so...bourgeosie."

"Well I'm sorry he's not your bohemian, tragically impoverished artist ideal, but he is a nice guy," she finally started yelling in kind.

"I don't care how nice he is! You made a deal! You are mine!," he finished with a hiss. He realized his words and grew pale. There was a dead silence.

"Excuse me? I am not yours- I do not belong to you," she got extremely close to his face. " Huh, maybe I'll just go out with him again just to piss you off!"

"You wouldn't dare." He could smell the alchohol on her breath. "Are you drunk?"

"That doesn't matter," she got even closer ," you promised not to interfere with my life but you-" she collapsed bonelessly onto him, and he quickly grabbed her. She was out like a light.

"Hey, wake up! We're not finished with our argument!," he gently tried shaking her awake. No response. He groaned. There was no way any taxi would be out this late, and walking to her place

carrying her would draw a lot of unwanted attention. The Music Meister sighed. He scooped up her petite form, and holding her bridal style, carried her to his room. It was a converted dressing room backstage, with a singular bed, desk, and mirror. Boxes of music covered the floor, but other than that, it was clean. He gently placed her on the bed, left a bottle of aspirin on the bedside table, and quickly left.

They would have to talk in the morning.


Yeaaaaah I'm going to rewrite this later. Happy Easter guys!