Happy New Year, everyone! May 2010 bring good luck to you all!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Joker
"Y'know," I say, stretching my arms as Batsy and I walk toward our respective cars, "I think that went pretty well. I mean, sure they're probably lying—"
"On the contrary," Batsy replies.His expression is as collected as ever, but there's something about the rest of him that says something else entirely. "We'll just have to see. They know a certain masked man will be watching them, at least."
We waited until the Mob left the area before taking off. It'd look a bit…suspicious otherwise, according to Batsy.
"Do you think the Mob will spread a few rumors about how…agreeable you were?" Batsy suddenly looks serious again—and I'm not sure what to make of that.
"Probably." I stuff my hands in my pockets and shrug, shivering as a cool breeze blows past, taking an empty soda can along with it. "We'll do what we have to if things get…a bit messier than usual."
Batsy stops and breathes out, a small cloud puffing to life and then…gone.
"Oh," I say, laughing at the idea. "The tabloids would eat that up."
I look down at Batsy's feet, the way they're moving with less of a soldier's stiffness and more…strolling.
"I think somebody's, ah, pleased with himself!" I pat Batsy on the shoulder, taking him off guard. "I knew you had it in you!"
"What, being pleased with myself, or delivering a good speech?" Batsy raises an eyebrow, a hint of a good mood flickering in his eyes.
I want to…memorize this. It's a rare event—maybe, ah, end-of-the-world worthy.
"How about 'all of the above'?" I kick a chunk of muddied ice out of the way, watching it click-click-crunch across the icy tar.
Batsy shrugs and keeps walking. "…I need to go to my car."
"I know. So do I."
"…Where are we going to meet, then?"
I grin and look sideways at him. "What, you think I'll, ah, ruin your car or something?"
Batsy snorts. "I wouldn't doubt it. No, it's more a question of…time."
Interesting.
"Oh? Got a date with someone else, then?" I wag a condescending finger at him. "Bad manners, right there."
"I need to maintain my playboy image. Tough work, but somebody has to do it."
"Why don't you call the date off? I mean, if you think about it, this is our night. It's a good time to celebrate!" I grab Batsy by the arm and begin skipping toward his car, dragging him along with me. "C'mon, we'll go the hotel, crank up the music—"
"You want me to go as Bruce Wayne?" Batsy growls, trying to pry me loose. "I thought you only wanted Batman!"
"You're my Batsy whoever you pretend to be."
That seems to have stopped him complaining. It doesn't…suit him, complaining.
"Hmm…why don't we meet up later? You go to your, ah, little date, and I'll unpack more of my things at my…new house. How's that sound?"
"Don't expect me too early," Batsy says, and is that smugness I can hear in his voice? "I might get sidetracked."
"We'll see, won't we?" I abruptly spin on my heel and let go of Batsy, sending him slip-sliding, almost off balance.
"I hate you," he says, breathing fast. He really didn't expect that.
"What, you thought that, ah, remark of yours wouldn't make me do something?"
I laugh and leave him to walk alone to his car. I have to hold myself back from skipping.
It's time for Act I of Part 4 of The Plan.
