Stand Alone: Sisterly Concern
Title: Sisterly Concern
Character/Pairings: Babs, Bernard, Bernard/Tim
Rating: PG? PG-13? Er... not dirty, at all?
Summary: Sequel to felonazcorp's Five Times Tim Slept With Bernard
Word count:1,025
Bernard was a very well-adjusted person, all things considered. Certainly, he wouldn’t be winning any awards for the world’s most copacetic person, but being raised in Gotham, one took what one could get. So, besides being surrounded by evil clowns and killer plants, not to mention being named Bernard, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction that Arkham was not a foreseeable part of his future.
For all his love of the not-criminally-insane, Bernard was still fond of the unexpected. It was another trait he prided himself in was being utterly and irascibly unpredictable. If everyone knew what tomorrow brought, it would be somewhat like watching re-runs for eternity. A proverbial ‘living hell’ as it were. So, surprises were what made the Dowd life-blood unique, and Bernard embraced his heritage.
This, however, was beyond ‘surprising’ and delving quickly into ‘Oh fuck, I’m gonna die’.
“I know you’re awake.”
It was the creepy part of a horror movie, where the evil villain is finally unmasked at the heroes come running in to save the day. Unfortunately, the villain always killed one last victim before he was slain in some properly dramatic fashion, and considering he was sadly not the main character’s buxom and undressed girlfriend, it was likely going to be him.
“Feel free to put your shirt back on.”
His eyes snapped open. His shirt? Why was his shirt missing? What had they done? Tied him to a crucifix and tried to raise some unholy devilry with his virgin blood only to find out he wasn’t quite as lame as he looked?
“Your pants, too.”
Glancing down, he absently noted that, sure enough, he was bare butt naked on his captor’s sofa.
Wait… Sofa?
Wasn’t that against the villain’s handbook, somewhere?
Bernard blinked owlishly, glancing around his cell. It was an apartment, a nice one, he noticed, and began to salivate. A nice apartment, with every piece of technology teenage boys could only dream of owning.
“Oh Jesus.” He gasped softly, falling to his knees before the entertainment system. “Please tell me you’ve kidnapped me to be your unwilling bed slave and will keep me confined within these rooms forever.”
“Sorry, kid, you’re not my type.”He glanced over his shoulder, realizing the speaker had been in the room the entire time. Bernard realized it was a woman, obvious from her voice, though he hadn’t paid particular attention to details, earlier.
“You mean I have to leave?” He lamented.
She chuckled, rolling out of the shadows. “Well, I suppose holding his boyfriend hostage would give Tim a good reason to visit more often.”
Bernard tried to hide his surprise that such a confident woman - kidnapper - was handicapped in any way, but her annoyed scowl made it clear he failed miserably. Well, there went his dream of being a super secret agent of mass suave debonair-ness. “Uhhh….” He replied, smartly.
“Of course, once he finds out I frisked his unconscious naked boyfriend; he might be less inclined to talk. He’s a bit possessive, that one.” She teased, a wistful smile curling her lips.
Bernard blinked and swallowed, remembering he was still naked. She was pretty.
Coughing uncomfortably, Bernard shuffled around frantically for his clothes, pulling them on in chaotic disarray. Fully aware his shirt was on both inside-out and backwards, he turned back to his, ah, host. “So you know Tim?”
“Oh, not at all. I just make a habit of kidnapping teenage boys and finding out all the excruciatingly intimate details of their existence while I toy with their feeble sex obsessed minds.” The woman replied flippantly, glancing at her nails. “Makes it so much easier to break them. You should see the last one I picked up - I have him pursuing a life as a Dolly Parton impersonator.”
“Really?!” Bernard squeaked.
She gave him a deprecating look. “No.”
“Oh.”
Silence stretch awkwardly for a long moment before he asked again. “Sooo… You do know Tim?”
With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Bernard, I know Tim.”
“Has he ever told you you’re kind of creepy?”
“Actually, he looks up to me. Apparently, I’m his idol.” Was her reply.
Bernard blinked. “That’s… rather believable and entirely frightening, at the same time.”
“That’s Tim, for you.”
And that really was Tim. Son of some rich family turned pauper, then adopted by the sexiest bachelor of Gotham, throw in a leg-less idol with a penchant for abduction, and Tim has his own sitcom. Here, he’d thought being gay might be too exciting for him. Well done, Bernard.
“Well, you can go now.”
Bernard stared. “What?”
“You can go.” She repeated, waving towards the door.
“But-” He sputtered, “you kidnapped me! What if I tell the police? You’d be arrested!”
She smirked. “Yes, you’re going to tell the police your boyfriend’s paraplegic friend snatched you from your home like some wailing Sabine woman?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I’m going to tell the police some mad red-headed woman who claimed to need a wheel chair snatched me off the sidewalk and stripped me naked.” Bernard explained, evenly.
“Well,” She shrugged. “that does sound slightly less embarrassing, doesn’t it?”
“I do have some dignity.” Bernard scowled. He eyed the door. “I can really go?”
“Yup, you’re free as a bird.”
They spent another long moment staring at one another before Bernard edged carefully towards the door. “Oh, Bernard,” The strange woman said as he grabbed the doorknob. “One last thing.”
Of course there was one last thing. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you leave alive, did you?’ or ‘Do watch for the big man with the noose outside.’ He sighed and turned around.
“Yes, oh murderer of my youth?”
“Don’t be melodramatic.” She chided. “I merely wanted to remind you that if I could kidnap you and strip you naked, I can do many other horrible things only your imagination could envision.”
“Um…” Bernard trailed off, lost.
“Break his heart, I break your spine.” She hissed, leaning forward pointedly. “It’s not fun, I promise.”
Bernard gulped. Well then. “Um, I won’t.”
With a grin, she leaned back in her chair and nodded. “Good.”
Character/Pairings: Babs, Bernard, Bernard/Tim
Rating: PG? PG-13? Er... not dirty, at all?
Summary: Sequel to felonazcorp's Five Times Tim Slept With Bernard
Word count:1,025
Bernard was a very well-adjusted person, all things considered. Certainly, he wouldn’t be winning any awards for the world’s most copacetic person, but being raised in Gotham, one took what one could get. So, besides being surrounded by evil clowns and killer plants, not to mention being named Bernard, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction that Arkham was not a foreseeable part of his future.
For all his love of the not-criminally-insane, Bernard was still fond of the unexpected. It was another trait he prided himself in was being utterly and irascibly unpredictable. If everyone knew what tomorrow brought, it would be somewhat like watching re-runs for eternity. A proverbial ‘living hell’ as it were. So, surprises were what made the Dowd life-blood unique, and Bernard embraced his heritage.
This, however, was beyond ‘surprising’ and delving quickly into ‘Oh fuck, I’m gonna die’.
“I know you’re awake.”
It was the creepy part of a horror movie, where the evil villain is finally unmasked at the heroes come running in to save the day. Unfortunately, the villain always killed one last victim before he was slain in some properly dramatic fashion, and considering he was sadly not the main character’s buxom and undressed girlfriend, it was likely going to be him.
“Feel free to put your shirt back on.”
His eyes snapped open. His shirt? Why was his shirt missing? What had they done? Tied him to a crucifix and tried to raise some unholy devilry with his virgin blood only to find out he wasn’t quite as lame as he looked?
“Your pants, too.”
Glancing down, he absently noted that, sure enough, he was bare butt naked on his captor’s sofa.
Wait… Sofa?
Wasn’t that against the villain’s handbook, somewhere?
Bernard blinked owlishly, glancing around his cell. It was an apartment, a nice one, he noticed, and began to salivate. A nice apartment, with every piece of technology teenage boys could only dream of owning.
“Oh Jesus.” He gasped softly, falling to his knees before the entertainment system. “Please tell me you’ve kidnapped me to be your unwilling bed slave and will keep me confined within these rooms forever.”
“Sorry, kid, you’re not my type.”He glanced over his shoulder, realizing the speaker had been in the room the entire time. Bernard realized it was a woman, obvious from her voice, though he hadn’t paid particular attention to details, earlier.
“You mean I have to leave?” He lamented.
She chuckled, rolling out of the shadows. “Well, I suppose holding his boyfriend hostage would give Tim a good reason to visit more often.”
Bernard tried to hide his surprise that such a confident woman - kidnapper - was handicapped in any way, but her annoyed scowl made it clear he failed miserably. Well, there went his dream of being a super secret agent of mass suave debonair-ness. “Uhhh….” He replied, smartly.
“Of course, once he finds out I frisked his unconscious naked boyfriend; he might be less inclined to talk. He’s a bit possessive, that one.” She teased, a wistful smile curling her lips.
Bernard blinked and swallowed, remembering he was still naked. She was pretty.
Coughing uncomfortably, Bernard shuffled around frantically for his clothes, pulling them on in chaotic disarray. Fully aware his shirt was on both inside-out and backwards, he turned back to his, ah, host. “So you know Tim?”
“Oh, not at all. I just make a habit of kidnapping teenage boys and finding out all the excruciatingly intimate details of their existence while I toy with their feeble sex obsessed minds.” The woman replied flippantly, glancing at her nails. “Makes it so much easier to break them. You should see the last one I picked up - I have him pursuing a life as a Dolly Parton impersonator.”
“Really?!” Bernard squeaked.
She gave him a deprecating look. “No.”
“Oh.”
Silence stretch awkwardly for a long moment before he asked again. “Sooo… You do know Tim?”
With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Bernard, I know Tim.”
“Has he ever told you you’re kind of creepy?”
“Actually, he looks up to me. Apparently, I’m his idol.” Was her reply.
Bernard blinked. “That’s… rather believable and entirely frightening, at the same time.”
“That’s Tim, for you.”
And that really was Tim. Son of some rich family turned pauper, then adopted by the sexiest bachelor of Gotham, throw in a leg-less idol with a penchant for abduction, and Tim has his own sitcom. Here, he’d thought being gay might be too exciting for him. Well done, Bernard.
“Well, you can go now.”
Bernard stared. “What?”
“You can go.” She repeated, waving towards the door.
“But-” He sputtered, “you kidnapped me! What if I tell the police? You’d be arrested!”
She smirked. “Yes, you’re going to tell the police your boyfriend’s paraplegic friend snatched you from your home like some wailing Sabine woman?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I’m going to tell the police some mad red-headed woman who claimed to need a wheel chair snatched me off the sidewalk and stripped me naked.” Bernard explained, evenly.
“Well,” She shrugged. “that does sound slightly less embarrassing, doesn’t it?”
“I do have some dignity.” Bernard scowled. He eyed the door. “I can really go?”
“Yup, you’re free as a bird.”
They spent another long moment staring at one another before Bernard edged carefully towards the door. “Oh, Bernard,” The strange woman said as he grabbed the doorknob. “One last thing.”
Of course there was one last thing. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you leave alive, did you?’ or ‘Do watch for the big man with the noose outside.’ He sighed and turned around.
“Yes, oh murderer of my youth?”
“Don’t be melodramatic.” She chided. “I merely wanted to remind you that if I could kidnap you and strip you naked, I can do many other horrible things only your imagination could envision.”
“Um…” Bernard trailed off, lost.
“Break his heart, I break your spine.” She hissed, leaning forward pointedly. “It’s not fun, I promise.”
Bernard gulped. Well then. “Um, I won’t.”
With a grin, she leaned back in her chair and nodded. “Good.”