Disclaimer: I don't own. Simple as that.

a/n: Mmmm.... Yeah I like slash. Because who wouldn't? Well, I mean, not everybody does, but... most people who write fanfictions DO... so... er, yeah. Without slash, I wouldn't be who I am today. Just kidding about that, but I do so love slash. 'Specially Bruce/Jonathan. That makes me giggle like, er, the five-year-old kid high on sugar I am inside. Yeppers. And its pretty damn hot. :3 So I'll try to fit it in somewhere. No, more like I WILL fit the slash in somehow. I just... don't know how yet. O-o" Well, at least there will be hints of it in any case.

So, ah anyways, enjoy.

Bruce stirred, blinking in the early morning sun filtering through his dark curtains. There was a warm lump gathered on his side, and he feared it might be a reopened wound. Looking about, he found it to be Crane. The cat was curled up tightly, tail twitching in a dream. He smiled, and slumped back down into the pillows.

It would have been nicer if he could fall asleep again.

However, something was simply bothering him about that cat.

Why, why did it have the same fear-stricken eyes as Scarecrow? It was odd in the least.

Sighing, he glanced back at the cat and froze. Mouth dropping open, he rubbed his eyes and even pinched himself to be sure he hadn't fallen back asleep.

"Ow!"

Nope, he was not sleeping.

In place of the feline, a very human looking figure lay curled up, a peaceful expression on his face. Dark hair framed a pale face, and puffy lips were open with shallow breathing. Minus the dark attire, the man- cat? was a splitting image of Jonathan Crane.

Except for the feline features still there.

A tail wrapped itself around one of the cat's legs, and his feline ears twitched lazily.

Bruce groaned and flopped back down into his pillows. Then decided to take a chance and look back at Crane.

All he saw was a black cat.

Was he going mad?

-

Jonathan stared.

He really, honestly, tried to prevent the shudders from crawling up and down his spine, but he couldn't help it. Turning his gaze back to Bruce, questioning the man's sanity. He turned back to the object of his disturbance, and then back to the frowning playboy.

What? Did he expect Jonathan was a dog- something that liked water?

While as a human he was rather fond of personal hygiene (a little too much in some cases), the feline dislike of water kicked in over that. And so he was conflicted. Get clean and get wet, or not get clean and not get wet? This was going to be a problem in the future, he just knew it. But for now... his nose twitched as he stared at the large tub full of water.

He was not getting in that if it was the last thing he ever did.

Just couldn't.

"Oh come on, Crane," Bruce complained, "It's not that bad. A little water never hurt anybody."

'That's what you think,' he spat back, 'It never hurt you. I am not going in that tub to save my life.'

A perplexed expression crossed the younger male, as if he were seeing something he shouldn't. Or perhaps hearing. Jonathan pushed the idea aside, because it really did not concern him that Bruce might be loosing it. If he even had his sanity in the first place. "Aw, really," the billionaire paused, "I'll even get in the tub too."

The feline froze, and he stared at the tile with wide eyes.

What. The. Fuck?

That was supposed to remedy the situation? Rubbing his temples with his paws- hands?- and letting out a sigh. This was surely going to be the death of him. Hell, he could feel the blush creeping onto his face already. Jonathan had never given much thought to things most people did when nude- sex- because it had never occurred to him that he would ever find himself in a way.

He scowled. The hell were his thoughts going? This wasn't even that kind of situation. It was a cat-doesn't-like-water-but-owner-insists-on-the-bath situation. And there really didn't seem like a solution to it.

'If in your strange world, that fixes everything, go ahead. Be my guest,' he told Bruce, dipping a hand into the water to test it. It was lukewarm, and it was alright considering every fiber of his being was screaming I-hate-water!

Splash!

Sputtering, and clawing at the edge of the tub in an attempt to not go back all the way into the water, he glared at Bruce. The man had pushed him into the water. Furious and soaking, he snarled at the billionaire. 'The fuck was that for? I was going to get in you know!'

"Yeah, I know, but you were taking too long," Bruce replied with a smile, and then pausing in confusion. It was as if he had heard Jonathan talk, which was completely illogical.

But so was a human turning into a feline in the first place.

"And don't get your fur in a bunch," started Bruce, "I'll be coming in anyways."

He closed his eyes quickly- not wanting to see 'Batman' in the nude. That would do far greater damage to his mind- and his vision- than when Batman had sprayed him with his own fear toxin. Plus, he just didn't want to see.

Honestly.

What, did you think Jonathan was some kind of peeping tom?

He wasn't, really.

That was what the Joker did on most occasions. Look when people were changing. He was just like that, because the clown had no sense of decency.

Thankfully, Jonathan did, and therefor did not look.

We assure you, we wish he did, but he doesn't.

Well, we really don't need to see that now do we? Scarecrow muttered, eye twitching slightly. It was odd that the billionaire would even get in a tub to wash a cat.

'Unless,' he mewed shakily, 'He says the er-, ehm..'

Neko version of us instead of the feline one at times?

'Yeah, that,' continued Jonathan, 'But that would mean he knows its us, and not a cat.'

He could just think its a figment of his imagination. For all we know, Bruce Wayne could have a petty crush on you, Scarecrow teased, laughing slightly.

The feline froze when hands massaged feline-shampoo (it smelled like lilacs- freaking lilacs) onto his scalp and back. Then he replied to his daemon's taunt, 'Yes but, why would he? He's only seen me out of my mask- what? Four times? And it was never on the best of terms.'

Scarecrow let out an exasperated sound, already he was fed up with Jonathan's clueless mind, Look. I mean, it might be a physical attraction. Not an emotion one, ya know? Like he likes how you look- you do look like a woman, mind you.

'I don't look like a woman!' he exclaimed, offended by the comment.

You also act like one at times. And fine, you don't look like a woman. You look like a man with a high estrogen level.

'There's no difference to that,' he muttered with a pout.

Exactly. So admit it- it is possible that Bruce has or had a crush on you. Or something. That's why he chose the name Crane. 'Cause even as a cat you have the same eyes.

'I guess so,' Jonathan muttered, sounding defeated.

Water rinsed the shampoo from his fur, and he felt clean. It was nice until he felt himself being lifted from the warm water. Shivering, he tried to get out of the grip, but it was rather hard to when being held by the scruff of the neck. A fluffy white towel was wrapped around him, and then moved about roughly to get rid of the excess moisture. It felt rather good, and he snuggled into it. Fluffy, warm place to take a nap...

a/n: I would have added this other part, but that seemed like a good place to stop. x3

The next chapter actually involves plot. O:

I know it does, because I have a wee bit of it typed up.

A hint for the next chapter- Jonathan used to paint!? (Because he strikes me as the kind of guy who used to take his frustrations out by making art.)

Review, review, review, review, please. They make me feel like I'm actually putting this up for a reason other than for myself.