AN: Either sometime next month or sometime in June, there will be a new story. I will warn you now-those of you who are squeamish or seeking fluff and kittens shouldn't read it. We're going back to basics, ladies and gentlemen. LET THERE BE SCREAMS.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-He wouldn't have had to die if he'd kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the floor.
KittyComeHere-Why must you people encourage her? Why? Do you realize how dangerous that is?
Jasmine Scarthing-I wasn't written as a loveable, sane individual, child.
Voodoo-Mutant-Child-CRETINS! Wait...is that film the cause of Gotham's fangirl infestation?
He never can say no to her. He's tried-halfheartedly, yes, but he's tried-and it never works.
Sometimes it's to his detriment.
"No one ever died from NyQuil, Jonathan."
And sometimes it's very much to his benefit. Like now.
"Jonathan," she says, winding her arms around his, "you haven't shown me this new toxin of yours."
"No?"
"So?" She gives him the Bambi eyes. "Impress a girl?"
Well, when she puts it that way…
"Any preferences?"
She bites her lip and points to the guard cowering in front of them.
"That one?"
He never can say no to her.
"Of course."
THE END