...I never, ever thought this would happen again, but it did.
Unfortunately--as you may have guessed--the chapter I uploaded yesterday is the (in-progress) chapter after this one. To all of you who were very, very confused, I'm sorry. To RoxasRocks, I'm also very sorry.
Hopefully this won't happen again.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight or Doctor Who. I do own this plot.
Chapter Forty-One: Joker
"Sooooooo…what d'you do here for fun? Does Batsy even have fun?"
Al steeples his fingers together, a bit of, ah, mirth behind those eyes. "We play chess. Cards. Sometimes we watch Dr. Who. What do you like to do, sir? Besides, of course, fiddling while Gotham burns, sending everyone into a mass panic, causing as much damage as possible, and sending Master Bruce into a befuddled state with your…antics."
I can't help but laugh at that description. "Befuddled, hmm? I like that word. Well…let's see. I sew, dance, watch movies with the boys, go out to Betty's Pie shop once in awhile…collect magazines, take care of my cat…the list goes on. Oh, and I, ah, make sure people meet Mr. Grim on time."
"Wonderful." Al barely blinks. "So then, what would you like to do currently?"
I think for a moment. "Poker sounds fun."
Al gives me a look. "We'll play for nuts."
I giggle.
"Almonds."
I sigh. "Okay, okay, that's fine by me."
Al goes to a nearby set of drawers (without taking his eyes off me, sly dog) and takes out a deck of cards, handing them to me. Apparently there's a can of almonds in there as well.
I start shuffling the deck, humming "Luck Be A Lady Tonight" under my breath. Al divides out the almonds.
I think I'll say ahlmonds with a British accent from now on. It sounds so…regal, y'know?
Anyway…
"Color me curious"—I grin at the familiarity of cards slapping together—"but how exactly did you guys even catch the Bat-Signal or whatever you call it…before it was, ah, trashed I mean."
"Well, mostly either Master Bruce or myself kept a close eye on the news--which we still do, of course. And a bit of technology, the details of which you need not concern yourself. It's highly effective. Or the Commissioner called us ahead of time." Al sighs. "You have no idea how many games of chess or cards were ruined by that whole affair. Still, it's what Master Bruce wants that counts…with a bit of insight along the way, of course."
I keep shuffling the cards, being nice and not looking at them (as if I won't win anyway).
"D'you think Batsy's still…timely?"
Al rubs his chin. "That, sir, is a very interesting question. Since you and Master Bruce have formed this…affair, if you will, the crime rate in Gotham has hit a middle ground. Recently, with the negotiations with the Mob, the crime rate has dropped even lower."
"Hmm." I shuffle the cards again, feeling them dance under my hands. "Sooooo…I'm doing a good thing, basically?"
"I wouldn't quite call it that, sir." Is that a smirk I see on Al's face?
I giggle. "'Course, 'course." I shuffle a third time. "What would you call it then?"
"I would call it 'strange bedfellows', sir. But then, I don't doubt you have a unique variation of your own."
"I like your idea. It's got a nice…ring to it." I wave my hand in the air lazily to, ah, accentuate the point. "Like the title for a romantic comedy or something…y'know? These two guys—they're in an interrogation room, and…"
Al doesn't even blink. "Shouldn't you be shuffling, sir?"
"Hmm? Oh. Gotcha. Let's see…one more time should do it." I spread the cards out then mush them together again, tapping the stack against the table to get them just right.
"I'm curious, Mr. J—why shuffle four times, exactly?"
I shrug. "Once for every suit in the deck—hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs. It's kind of a…good luck charm, I guess you could say." I set the cards in the center of the table. "And here we are, ready to go!"
"Mind if I join in?" Batsy says from the doorway, carrying my milk and a cup of what looks like tea. He turns to Al. "I'll get yours in a second—"
"No, no, Master Bruce, I'll get it. Take my seat." Al gets up and heads to the kitchen, leaving Batsy and I alone.
"…I'm guessing you know how Poker works?" I start dealing the cards.
"I know." Batsy picks up his cards and looks them over. "Incidentally, I have a score to settle with Alfred."
"Oh? Has he, ah, pulled a fast one?" I grin and look at my cards. "Perfect timing then, hmm?"
"He's won 999 times out of 1,000. So far." Batsy almost smirks. "Tonight I just might settle the score."
"But, ah…I might beat you. Then what, hmmm? You pout and check a crime scene?"
Batsy raises his eyebrows. "I won't let you beat me."
I laugh. "Good answer. Spectacular, as the good Doctor might say."
Batsy sighs and shakes his head.
The game continues.
I look over my hand and grin. "Sooooo…show me what you've got, Mr. I-Won't-Let-You-Beat-Me!"
Batsy places his hand down—a straight. "I think this will do for a start."
…Crap. Crapcrapcrap.
I put down my three of a kind. "Wanna hear a joke? Maybe it'll tickle what, ah, funny bone you have."
Batsy fiddles with his cards on the table before him.
"Okaaaay…two cartons of yogurt walk into a bar. The bartender—he's cottage cheese, see—he says 'We don't serve your kind here'. One of yogurt cartons argues 'Why not? We're cultured individuals!'"
Batsy shakes his head, expression never changing…but I think I saw the sliiiightest glint in his eyes. Score for me…
The game continues.
I put down my hand—a full house—and take a few almonds for myself. "What about you, hmmm? Got any jokes to tell?"
Batsy takes a few cards from the deck, looking thoughtful. "…Well, there's one that Alfred used to tell me as a kid. A railway porter asks the passenger 'Did you miss your train, sir?' The passenger says 'No, I didn't like the look of it, so I chased it out of the station.'"
I can't help laughing at that one. And I thought my jokes were bad. I laugh even harder when it turns out I have the winning hand for this round—four of a kind.
Al sits in—and proves that Batsy was right. The guy's good.
Whatever.
And so on and on and on we go, with Al keeping an eye on things. In the end, it turns out that we have a tie.
Unfortunately, it looks like daylight's coming, so I have to get going. Too bad. I wanted to see if Batsy would ever get to beat Al…
As I get ready to leave, Batsy stands and follows me out—awfully, ah, charitable of him. Very gentlemanly. He doesn't look all that glum about our game, which is…interesting. We walk almost side by side to the door.
"…Joker?"
"Mm-hmmmm?" I turn to look at him, standing in front of the door.
"What did you mean by your ideal present 'not being up my alley'?"
I laugh and stuff my hands in my pockets. "That will have to wait 'til spring."
Batsy scowls. "Spring won't be here for a long time."
I shrug. "Y'know what they say—time flies when you're having fun. Spring'll be here sooner than you think."
