Fic: Reverse Psychology
Title: Reverse Psychology
Author: blackish-silver
Characters/Pairing: Why, BxJ goodsirs.
Rating: Pg-13...ish?
Warnings: Uh, none really.
Summary: Bruce is sure, but Joker's not.
Disclaimer: This community contains stories and artwork based on concepts and characters created and owned by DC Comics, Warner Bros. and others. We are in no way affiliated with these corporations and we are not making any profit. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Wanted to get the beginnings of a chapter story up, but nothing seems to be working :/. Instead, I present you with OCC-ish fluff. Hopefully not too OCC. Also of note, I'm looking for a beta to reign me in. Anyone interested?
Joker stared. There were flowers.
He was half sitting up on a rusty cot in an empty room, in an abandoned factory, in the old meat packing district and there were flowers.
Joker slowly pulled his coat over his shoulders (he'd been using it as a blanket) and slid off the bed, all the while eyeing the flowers with a level of distrust one might associate with an unrestrained hungry dog. He grabbed the boquet at one end, and yanked it off the bed. Nothing exploded.
The flowers were all purple -lilacs, violets, lavender- framed with various green accompany-plants and wrapped in a purple-tinted cellophane. Joker plucked a card from between what looked like mint sprigs; it was blank except for a black heart scribbled in sharpie marker. He flipped it over, but there was nothing on the back. SOMEone had tracked him down, picked twenty-seven of the locks he'd secured, crept into his room WITHOUT waking him up, and left a boquet with no calling card but a messy little heart. The Ace of Knaves scratched his head: either he was crazier than he thought, or there was someone out there who was completely insane.
He'd throw the flowers into the nearest dumpster on his way out.
0~x~0
Joker stared. There was a card.
He blinked in confusion, then deftly grabbed the card from between the milk and eggs (both of which had gone bad some time last October) and closed the refrigerator door. The sentiment was made from a thick purple paper trimmed with intricate, green designs on the front, leading to a black heart scribbled on the inside. Curious, Joker brought the card close to his face and sniffed. Sharpie marker. He grimaced and held the offensive paper at arms-length, not because of the smell so much as the idea. Someone had managed to get inside his head: the fridge was where he kept all his important documents (to keep them cold).
Scowling, the Joker stormed back out the kitchen, through the dining room (a huge chamber with only a blanket in the middle), past the office (another abandoned room, with only a computer desk and chair in it), and back to the bedroom, burrowing fingers into his pants pockets the whole way. Finally, he knelt down in front of the door and pressed a smiley-face sticker to the door knob. The brass handle sparked, then fizzled out as the electric current was temporarily deactivated. He then pulled the 'L' from the WELCOME mat and stuck that under the handle. The acid it had secreted was reabosrbed into its plastic holder. Joker carefully stepped over the mat, tossed the card onto the bed, and slammed the door shut.
It landed next to the flowers.
0~x~0
Joker stared. There was candy.
He stood frozen with one arm in his coat, half-risen from his desk chair where he'd been researching various chemcial solvents. Somehow, he'd missed the heart-shaped box (colored in black with sharpie marker) when he'd sat down some three hours earlier. He reached over, slid the purple and green ribbon from the sides, then eased the top off. Inside were chocolate-covered cherries in, was that--? Yes, yes it was! The Joker popped one of the tiny slices of heaven in his mouth and melted along with it. Sar-dines.
He realized what he was doing a moment later and sat back up in his chair, glancing around and pulling the box closer. Someone had obviously done their homework. He glanced around again, the began digging in the pockets of his coat, which was still half draped over the back of his chair. After several minutes of increaseingly violent fumbling, he fished a key from an inner pocket and slid it into one of the desk locks. The lock turned and the bomb stopped ticking as he pulled the key back out and turned the handle once clockwise, twice counterclockwise, then clockwise for one and a half more. The Joker Venom Sprayer (tm) deactivated, and he yanked the drawer open and chucked the box in.
Next to the partially-dried flowers and the card.
0~x~0
Joker glared. There was Bats, in all his glory.
He'd braved the rickety stairs to reach the roof, only to find Gotham's Dark Knight waiting for him. So, instead of some cold, rainy alone time, he got a heart-to-heart with the Batman.
"WHY are you giving me STUFF?"
Batman actually smiled; Joker's eye twitched and he thought his heart would give out. "Did you like them?"
"NO."
"Ah," the smile had yet to abate, "So that's why you're keeping them in the bottom-right drawer of your desk."
Joker gritted his teeth and snarled. "I'm still a citizen of Gotham, ya'know, I've got a right to privacy."
He imagined the man behind the mask rolling his eyes. "You forfited that right with all the others when you blew up the hospital."
"Yesyes, there's another point! WHY are you giving me stuff when I MURDERED you GIRLFRIEND and drove your district ah-tour-ney INSANE?"
The Bat's eyes narrowed, then he shrugged a shoulder. "You'd be a useful ally."
Joker squinted both eyes, then slowly broke into his trademark grin. "Ah-hah, ha-ha-ha. Gotcha," he folded both arms behind his back and began pacing, "You're trying to bring me into the light, make me Gotham's Hero's side-kick. Afterall, what better way to punish your enemy than by making him exactly like you?"
Batman sighed. "I'm not trying to make you into anything, Joker."
Gotham's Most Wanted pointed an accusing, gloved finger. "Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Are too."
"No, really--"
"Are TOO." Joker strode up to his arch enemy and jabbed a finger into his chest, "I know ALL about your little mind games, Batsy, and let me tell you, NONE of them are going to work; they're designed for the CATTLE-PEOPLE, which we both know neither of us are. So, why don't you drop the charade, and--"
And suddenly, Joker wasn't sure what he was demanding Batman do; two hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket and yanked him forward, then crushed him to a battle-hardened body. With both hands pinned under ridiculously strong arms, he couldn't fend off the kiss that brushed his mouth, down one scarred check, then the other.
The Clown Prince of Crime decided his brief cry of outrage was sufficient to uphold his reputation. Giving in after a moment later was another matter.
Author: blackish-silver
Characters/Pairing: Why, BxJ goodsirs.
Rating: Pg-13...ish?
Warnings: Uh, none really.
Summary: Bruce is sure, but Joker's not.
Disclaimer: This community contains stories and artwork based on concepts and characters created and owned by DC Comics, Warner Bros. and others. We are in no way affiliated with these corporations and we are not making any profit. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Wanted to get the beginnings of a chapter story up, but nothing seems to be working :/. Instead, I present you with OCC-ish fluff. Hopefully not too OCC. Also of note, I'm looking for a beta to reign me in. Anyone interested?
Joker stared. There were flowers.
He was half sitting up on a rusty cot in an empty room, in an abandoned factory, in the old meat packing district and there were flowers.
Joker slowly pulled his coat over his shoulders (he'd been using it as a blanket) and slid off the bed, all the while eyeing the flowers with a level of distrust one might associate with an unrestrained hungry dog. He grabbed the boquet at one end, and yanked it off the bed. Nothing exploded.
The flowers were all purple -lilacs, violets, lavender- framed with various green accompany-plants and wrapped in a purple-tinted cellophane. Joker plucked a card from between what looked like mint sprigs; it was blank except for a black heart scribbled in sharpie marker. He flipped it over, but there was nothing on the back. SOMEone had tracked him down, picked twenty-seven of the locks he'd secured, crept into his room WITHOUT waking him up, and left a boquet with no calling card but a messy little heart. The Ace of Knaves scratched his head: either he was crazier than he thought, or there was someone out there who was completely insane.
He'd throw the flowers into the nearest dumpster on his way out.
0~x~0
Joker stared. There was a card.
He blinked in confusion, then deftly grabbed the card from between the milk and eggs (both of which had gone bad some time last October) and closed the refrigerator door. The sentiment was made from a thick purple paper trimmed with intricate, green designs on the front, leading to a black heart scribbled on the inside. Curious, Joker brought the card close to his face and sniffed. Sharpie marker. He grimaced and held the offensive paper at arms-length, not because of the smell so much as the idea. Someone had managed to get inside his head: the fridge was where he kept all his important documents (to keep them cold).
Scowling, the Joker stormed back out the kitchen, through the dining room (a huge chamber with only a blanket in the middle), past the office (another abandoned room, with only a computer desk and chair in it), and back to the bedroom, burrowing fingers into his pants pockets the whole way. Finally, he knelt down in front of the door and pressed a smiley-face sticker to the door knob. The brass handle sparked, then fizzled out as the electric current was temporarily deactivated. He then pulled the 'L' from the WELCOME mat and stuck that under the handle. The acid it had secreted was reabosrbed into its plastic holder. Joker carefully stepped over the mat, tossed the card onto the bed, and slammed the door shut.
It landed next to the flowers.
0~x~0
Joker stared. There was candy.
He stood frozen with one arm in his coat, half-risen from his desk chair where he'd been researching various chemcial solvents. Somehow, he'd missed the heart-shaped box (colored in black with sharpie marker) when he'd sat down some three hours earlier. He reached over, slid the purple and green ribbon from the sides, then eased the top off. Inside were chocolate-covered cherries in, was that--? Yes, yes it was! The Joker popped one of the tiny slices of heaven in his mouth and melted along with it. Sar-dines.
He realized what he was doing a moment later and sat back up in his chair, glancing around and pulling the box closer. Someone had obviously done their homework. He glanced around again, the began digging in the pockets of his coat, which was still half draped over the back of his chair. After several minutes of increaseingly violent fumbling, he fished a key from an inner pocket and slid it into one of the desk locks. The lock turned and the bomb stopped ticking as he pulled the key back out and turned the handle once clockwise, twice counterclockwise, then clockwise for one and a half more. The Joker Venom Sprayer (tm) deactivated, and he yanked the drawer open and chucked the box in.
Next to the partially-dried flowers and the card.
0~x~0
Joker glared. There was Bats, in all his glory.
He'd braved the rickety stairs to reach the roof, only to find Gotham's Dark Knight waiting for him. So, instead of some cold, rainy alone time, he got a heart-to-heart with the Batman.
"WHY are you giving me STUFF?"
Batman actually smiled; Joker's eye twitched and he thought his heart would give out. "Did you like them?"
"NO."
"Ah," the smile had yet to abate, "So that's why you're keeping them in the bottom-right drawer of your desk."
Joker gritted his teeth and snarled. "I'm still a citizen of Gotham, ya'know, I've got a right to privacy."
He imagined the man behind the mask rolling his eyes. "You forfited that right with all the others when you blew up the hospital."
"Yesyes, there's another point! WHY are you giving me stuff when I MURDERED you GIRLFRIEND and drove your district ah-tour-ney INSANE?"
The Bat's eyes narrowed, then he shrugged a shoulder. "You'd be a useful ally."
Joker squinted both eyes, then slowly broke into his trademark grin. "Ah-hah, ha-ha-ha. Gotcha," he folded both arms behind his back and began pacing, "You're trying to bring me into the light, make me Gotham's Hero's side-kick. Afterall, what better way to punish your enemy than by making him exactly like you?"
Batman sighed. "I'm not trying to make you into anything, Joker."
Gotham's Most Wanted pointed an accusing, gloved finger. "Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Are too."
"No, really--"
"Are TOO." Joker strode up to his arch enemy and jabbed a finger into his chest, "I know ALL about your little mind games, Batsy, and let me tell you, NONE of them are going to work; they're designed for the CATTLE-PEOPLE, which we both know neither of us are. So, why don't you drop the charade, and--"
And suddenly, Joker wasn't sure what he was demanding Batman do; two hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket and yanked him forward, then crushed him to a battle-hardened body. With both hands pinned under ridiculously strong arms, he couldn't fend off the kiss that brushed his mouth, down one scarred check, then the other.
The Clown Prince of Crime decided his brief cry of outrage was sufficient to uphold his reputation. Giving in after a moment later was another matter.