A Simple Gesture of Kindness


Summary: "We all hate the dentist, Wendy. Some of us simply hate him in moderation." Cutesy fluff, no redeeming value, blatantly OOC. Pre-OVA.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, they still don't like me.
"Ow!"

Joker looked up, startled, at this exclamation from the seat directly across from him in the little coffee shop.

"Everything alright?"

Wendy made a heroic attempt at a smile, the beginnings of an embarrassed blush staining her cheeks.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He nodded slightly, and then went back to his coffee.

Seconds later, he looked up again at another pained squeak, and raised one eyebrow curiously as the girl across from him pressed her hand tightly over her cheek, eyes tearing up a bit.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Joker," she said with a weak laugh, both it and the words muffled by her hand. "My tooth's just been hurting a lot lately."

"Thought of going to see the dentist?"

She made another noise, this time more of fear than pain, eyes widening.

"Well, no…it really only hurts when I try to bite down on it."

"So, when you use it," he paraphrased, setting down his coffee cup with a sigh. "You do realize that it's only going to get worse if you ignore it."

"It isn't that bad."

"You still ought to go for regular appointments."

"I don't need them!"

"That's a little hypocritical, isn't it, after that speech you gave me the other day about regular check-ups with the doctor."

"That's different!"

"As soon as we get back, phone for an appointment."

"But I hate the dentist!" she wailed, then blushed and shrugged apologetically as several other customers of the coffee shop smiled indulgently or sympathetically at them.

"Yes, but can it really be any worse than constant pain?"

"Going to see the dentist will hurt, too," she insisted, expression best described as a combination of stubbornness and misery.

He hid a smile.

"But only for a little while. If you don't go, your tooth will just keep on hurting."

"I know that," she sighed. "But if I just let it keep hurting, at least I won't have to get that massive needle in my mouth."

He nodded, understanding dawning.

"Ah. You're afraid of the needle, then."

She nodded vigorously.

"You probably think I'm being silly."

"A little," he admitted. "But only because it's such a little bit of pain in comparison to weeks of toothache."

"I just hate the thought of the needle and the drill," she shuddered. "It's not even the pain; it's seeing that big needle…" She trailed off and shuddered again.

With a sigh, he reached into his pocket, withdrew his cellular phone, and slid it over the tabletop towards her.

"Do you know your regular dentist's telephone number from memory?"

She fidgeted with the wrapper from her muffin.

"I don't have a regular dentist, really. I haven't gone since I left home, and then we always went to my father."

He eyed her disapprovingly.

"You haven't been to see the dentist in seven years, Wendy?"

"That isn't true! I always went on my college breaks when I was visiting home and Dad dragged me into his surgery and strapped me into the chair while Michael held my legs down and Mum held my shoulders!"

"Three years, then," he amended, expression still stern but eyes betraying a glimmer of laughter.

"I hate the dentist!"

"Yes, we've covered that. Well, then, telephone my dentist. It's the sixth on my speed dial."

"I know," she said with an impish smile. "I programmed it in for you. And I still think you need some more friends, if you've got your dentist on speed dial."

"Never mind that," he said, exasperated. "Telephone, and make an appointment."

With a long-suffering sigh, she hit the speed dial button and waited, then set up the appointment with the lady on the other end.

Then, as she handed his phone back to him, she glared.

"Alright, I've made an appointment, but if it hurts, I'm going to be very cross with you!"


"Good morning," Wendy greeted glumly three mornings later as picked her way carefully through the clutter on the floor of his office, readjusting her hold on an armful of files.

Joker looked up, and eyed her curiously.

"Something wrong?"

"I went for my check-up with your dentist."

"Ah," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with the suppressed urge to smile. "Bad news, then?"

"I have to go back for fillings! Two of them! And they said one's gotten really bad!"

"Well. That would explain why you've had trouble with it."

"I know," she whimpered. "And I know it's only my own fault, but I still don't want to go!"

"You've made the appointment, I hope?"

"Yes," she said, glaring resentfully at the pocket that held his phone, as though hoping to somehow project her anger onto the dentist through it. "He basically made me make one."

"Good."

She turned her glare on him, and he bit back a laugh at her adorably aggrieved expression, although he regretted his amusement a little when he caught sight of a badly-concealed thread of cringing fear in it.

"He was only doing his job," he reminded her mildly.

"Right," she sighed. "I only came to drop these off, anyway, not say mean things about your favourite dentist."

"Ah. Well, thank-you," he said, returning his attention to the work in front of him, as much to hide his smile as for any other reason.

When the door clicked shut, and her footsteps faded down the hallway, Joker looked up, and then reached for the telephone.

Speed-dial #6.

"Yes, hello," he greeted when the receptionist answered the phone. "A young lady was in for a check-up today – a Wendy Earhart – and she's coming back in a few days for some fillings. I was wondering about the possibility of using a general anaesthetic for her. You see, she's horribly afraid of the freezing and the drill…"


And so, when Wendy came into his office to say good morning the following week – a couple hours later than usual, he noticed – Joker was startled to receive a warm hug from behind, her chin resting comfortably on his shoulder.

"Well. Good morning to you, too," he said dryly, nevertheless unable to hold back a smile as he patted her hand a little awkwardly.

"Dr. Sherman told me that 'a very nice man'—" She left out the second part of the dentist's description: 'who cares a lot about you'. "—rang him up and asked him to do a general anaesthetic for me just this once if I would promise to go for regular check-ups from now on."

He pulled forward slightly to glance over his shoulder at her.

"And will you?"

She smiled gratefully, and nodded, once, twice, three times…

The next moment, he jumped slightly as she fell abruptly forward against him. He turned hurriedly in his chair to catch her, and then sighed as he half-carried and half-dragged her over to the little couch on the other side of his office.

"Perhaps this was a bad idea," he mused as he watched her snooze peacefully away, murmuring happily as she cuddled one of the cushions.

Then, as he remembered the panic in her expression at the mention of the dentist, and the tight clasp of her arms around his neck and the gratitude in her voice, he smiled fondly at the sleeping girl.

Or perhaps it wasn't.


End Notes: Okay, this is a bit of absurdly cutesy fluff that I'd consider somewhat appropriate to these two in the OVA, since it reflects (if a little too blatantly) the decidedly niece-uncle dynamic I sorta got between them at this point in the show. Really, I got a bit of a romantic spark (hence all the fan fiction, giggle-giggle), but one that could've easily been interpreted as a family relationship as well. They just seemed very close, very kind to each other, and she seemed to look up to him while he seemed to have a bit of a protective thing. I thought so, anyway. I didn't really get to learn whether I was right or wrong, as the greatest danger she was put in at any point was from her own klutziness.