From my heart and from my hand, why don't people understand
Who: Dr. Kirk Langstrom & The Joker
When: Afternoon
Where: Kirk's apartment
Summary: The Joker has an idea for a new gag.
Warnings: N/A
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( my intentions? )
When: Afternoon
Where: Kirk's apartment
Summary: The Joker has an idea for a new gag.
Warnings: N/A
--
( my intentions? )
Joker had shown up in Langstrom's apartment with the intention of simply lifting this device, whatever it was, and walking out again. A quick trip through the spartan rooms, though, left him convinced that the scientist must have carried with him. Smart man.
Never one to give up on an idea once he had one, Joker decided the best course of action would be to wait for Langstrom to come and bring the toy with him. So, he made himself at home.
The refrigerator was still hanging open and he was about to bite into a freshly prepared ham sandwich when someone came in the door.
"-You!"
"Me!" the clown babbled, excitedly, and held the sandwich out. "I was just making myself some lunch. Want some?"
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Outrage gained the first foothold.
"You - That's my food! How the hell did you get in here?! Get out! You aren't welcome!" The small scientist shook with rage, and his pink eyes darted about - looking for signs of damage, for thugs... and possibly for something he could use as a weapon.
Damn, damn, damn, why is he here? The Clown Prince was the last person Langstrom would have expected to see show up on his doorstep, much less in his kitchen. It made no sense. He suddenly regretted that he didn't own a gun.
"What do you want?" the albino snarled, slowly edging sideways towards a side table. The lamp was the closest thing he had to a weapon. "You have no right waltzing into my home!"
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This Langstrom was of small build...and an albino. Not at all like the one he knew from home. The multiverses could be pretty funny. He wondered what the Joker of this Langstrom's world was like. Was he as handsome? As clever? ...No, surely not. How could he be?
"Kirk, Kirk, relax," the clown purred as he walked over to the scientist and slung an arm around his shoulders, drinking in the hatred, anger and fear that now flooded the room.
"I saw you weren't here so I let myself in. I thought you wouldn't mind, since we're such good buddies!"
At this he leaned his face in close to the other man's.
"We...are good buddies...right?"
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The scientist shuddered and stiffened and couldn't hope to mask his appalled expression. ...Or the terrified twitch of his limbs. He'd roomed with Joker in Arkham for a time; he knew what the man was capable of.
He had to handle this carefully.
"Langstrom," he corrected in a hiss, swallowing back a further angered explosion. He tried to slip out from under the clown's arm. "Dr. Langstrom. ...And I don't know what you mean." Carefully. Not an outright denial - who knew what would set the lunatic off?
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Joker dusted something imaginary off Langstrom's sleeve.
"You should know how I am about bats! I love bats!"
Or hated them. Loved hating them. Suddenly, he felt a pang and sorely missed his nemesis.
"Have a seat, my good man, I'll make you something to eat. We have so much to discuss!"
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He eyed the Joker with blatant paranoia, and then - then he remembered. They'd talked before, when he'd been Jokerized. It had been brief, but it had been enough for him to mention Man-Bat -
Dammit!
"Do we?" He reluctantly sank into the couch - a Joker busying himself in the kitchen was a less dangerous Joker than one standing next to him. "What did you have in mind?"
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"I guess you have a little thingummy that controls the bat."
At this he popped the fridge closed and meandered his way back to Langstrom, brandishing a plate piled with random foods.
"I want it," he said simply.
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"- No." The word was out of his mouth before he could think it, faster even than his body could react to the threat of Joker's desires. Langstrom had frozen in his seat, his fingers digging into the couch cushions. His slim shoulders were shaking.
"Absolutely not," he said again, this time baring his teeth. "It's a tool of research now! That's all it is! I won't be giving it to you or anyone else!" No one was even supposed to know about it.
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"I'm telling you that you have one of two choices, doc," he said flatly. "Either you hand over the device and I walk on out of here or you don't and I'll be forced to to get creative." At this he flashed a toothy smile.
"Eat up, your juice is getting warm."
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"...I'm not hungry," he said finally, flatly, carefully sliding the tray off his lap. His mind was racing fast enough he nearly feared Joker would hear it whirring. "And I don't even have the damn thing to give to you. I keep it in my office with SERO, in a containment chamber."
Hah. As though he would trust it within fifteen feet of those weasels.
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He planted his hands on the backrest of the couch and leaned forward, pinning Langstrom to his seat with his body.
"Somehow, I don't believe you. You aren't lying to me, right? I hate when people do that!"
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He was going to have an aneurysm at this rate. The scientist's stress levels were at their peak, and by god, he wanted nothing more right now than to punch the Joker in the middle of his smiling, nightmarish face. But a hasty move like that would get him killed; he was sure of it. Just because nothing was being pointed at him didn't mean the clown wasn't probably hiding a dozen different weapons on him.
Langstrom melded into the back of the couch, pressed as far away as the cushions would let him. Part of him (namely, the part that was terrified) wondered it it wouldn't be safer to follow the Joker's advice and simply give the device up.
But even if he confessed now, he'd already lied. No sense fearing a punishment he'd receive either way. I can still talk my way past him!
"My office," he repeated after a tense moment, dry-mouthed. "I'll give you the blasted key if you like."
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He knew the scientist was simply trying to get him to leave. But... leaving with both the key and the device would be pretty funny.
"Yes," he purred, and held a thin, gloved hand out to Langstrom.
"Give me the key."
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But careful to play his part, he let his expression crumple into something suitably distraught. (What a shame that he'd never gone into acting.) "Damn you... fine. I suppose I have no choice."
He snuck his hand into his coat pocket, carefully feeling past his NV and the sonic pen for his SERO security card. He pressed it into Joker's gloved palm with a well-played frown. "There. Are you satisfied?"
Langstrom certainly was. Not only would this get the clown out of his apartment, but the moment the Joker was gone he could contact the research facility and warn them against the impending imposter.
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"But first, Lang, I'll be needing that little device."
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He looked like a rabbit about to run.
"...I told you I don't have it."
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