Good Luck With Your Future Chapter 6
Title: Good Luck With Your Future
Author: Dreykar
Fandom: DC-verse/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): General
Rating: M
Summary: Approached by their older selves visiting from 25yrs in the future, Batman and The Joker agree to work together to prevent a situation allowing the mob to take over Gotham permanently. With so much going on, what happens when the men work together?
Disclaimer: I only own the plot. Everything own by DC comics and Nolan/Warner Brothers.
It was 4am and the younger Joker was busy as he sat at his desk reading through the files he now had on Tony Warren.
Male.
39 years old.
Grew up in Gotham.
Two young children Leon, 4 and Anna, 2.
Has been married to Marie (nee Gold) for 8 years.
Ran his own business for twelve years.
Has been involved in community activities most of his life.
The next set of information that he read through was less known.
Father was good friends with mob leaders but this was kept quiet.
He stands to gain a lot of money and the satisfaction of power if he is voted mayor.
Is more than happy to be the front of the mob’s decisions.
Known to be very smug.
Demeanour said to be close to that of Harvey Dent (that’s what the public sees anyway, need to watch this as it may bring negative connotations).
Public totally unaware of the consequences of voting in Warren.
Will present a warm face to the public as he ushers in unpopular laws etc.
Warren has killed before.
Consider to be dangerous if threatened.
The report went on and The Joker was up to the fifth page when he had to say something.
“Could you please try to keep that down?” he aggressively whined at his older self who was lounging on the three seater couch, laughing obnoxiously at an old comedy rerun.
He was in a pair of dark green boxers, an old white shirt and his square pattered socks. He also had has makeup removed.
The barely dressed man sat up slightly, seemingly unfazed but the younger man’s tone.
“But this...hey!” he looked back at the screen and started to wave his hand erratically, imploring the other to watch too.
“This is the best part! Heh... ‘No Daniel...I didn’t lose the beans!’” he quoted in time with the show and proceeded to grab his stomach and slap the couch as he whooped loudly with laughter. He nearly fell onto the floor.
The younger Joker turned back to the wall, dropping the papers onto the desk while rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. He held his hands spread, hovering above the desk as he mumbled to himself “10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1...don’t gut the clown...he actually you, don’t kill him...”
“Ahhhhhh” the older man began to wind down, the canned laughter still grating at the younger man’s ears. Is this really what I turn out like? It could be worse, he thinks as his mind rolls back to the only other time he lived with an older man...when he was a child...
“Sorry, Junior. I know you’re trying to read” the other man commented bringing the other out of his thoughts. The show had finally finished and the unpainted man looked at the time, stretching his back. “Ahh, insomnia. Where would my TV watching be without you?” he questioned warmly as if speaking to an old friend.
The younger Joker, who decided to stop thinking about the past as sometimes he wasn’t quite sure what did actually happen and what didn’t, grabbed the other report he had on ‘Gotham’s Elite’. It was larger than the report on Tony Warren.
“Sooooo, Junior. Whatcha reading?” Now bored with the TV the older Joker wandered over to his younger self who flung the Warren report at him without turning around. The man flipped through it.
“This written by Tom Scout, yeah?” The Joker sitting at the desk merely nodded, not looking up from his report. Maybe if he ignored him he’d go away? Something told him that wouldn’t happen. He thought that assumption was on pretty good authority.
“Hrm, thought so. Got his signatures all over it”.
They were both quiet as they read.
“Get some info on Garcia too?” the one from the future asked eyeing off the report the younger man was reading.
He stretched out in his chair. “No, no, no. Just got some notes on Gotham’s so called princes. Gotta have the upper hand when Garcia show his true colours...”. He’d show the Bat...
The standing man was still as he bit his lip. He turned his head to the closed door which the older Batman was sleeping behind. “Sounds good, Kiddo. You always were a thinker”.
“Hrm. Yeah” the younger man responded not really listening. It was sickening the amount of money some of these men had coupled with the lack of actual good they did.
“I mean look at this guy” he called, seemingly outraged, continuing the conversation out loud that he was having in his head.
“Burnt his mansion down in a drunken stoper...then spent millions and millions of dollars rebuilding it to look...exactly the same!” he held back the urge to slam his first down on the desk. It made him so angry.
“It’s...despicable...” he uttered darkly.
This led into a half hour rant on how humanity was rotten to the core and hellishly hypocritical.
“Couldn’t agree more, Kid” the older Clown replied once again, yawning. He had to remember to keep note on exactly how much his junior self had researched on those other things. His Brucey was not going to be happy. He’d file that under ‘Us Jeopardising The Future Through Our Influence’ among other things that sounded remarkably like ‘Blah Blah Blah’ to his ears.
“I’m, uh, going to go rest my eyes until sunrise, I think”. At this he retired for the night.
Still fuming, the younger Joker paced around trying to keep himself in check. “Why are they all so blind? Time to fix this city...”. He physically couldn’t sit still enough to read.
This was one of the things he had learnt to deal with. His frantic energy was at odds with the amount of sleep his body let him obtain. Inability to sit still, strange eating habits and wild buzzing energy swings were aspects about himself he was now used to.
They often led to or were caused by, he didn’t know which, obsessive behaviour where he could get so lost in something it was almost impossible to draw him away from it.
The graffitied newspaper clippings stuck on the wall behind his desk were testament to this. As were most of his actions and ideas. But it didn’t bother him and it was nobody else’s business to have an issue with it either.
As he paced around his apartment, which he was known to do for hours at a time on some occasions, the still switched on TV got his attention. It was now on GCN around 5am.
“Gotham’s tragedies. Watch our special on the sad and horrific events that have shaped Gotham over the last few years”.
“Keep talking, keep talking, keep talking”. The Joker bent down to get closer to the screen as he walked over towards the couch as images of Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes flicked up on screen followed by a photo of himself. “O, this looks gooood...”
“And that’s why I believe our services can benefit Wayne Enterprises. Thank you for your time, gentlemen”. Lucius Fox stood up and shook the man’s hand.
“And thank you, Mr. James”. They both looked over to Bruce who seemed to be off in another world. The meeting consisted only of these three men.
“That was a very impressive presentation. Right, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce snapped out of his trance and hastily jumped up to shake James’ hand.
“Yes, definitely. Thank you”.
James merely nodded, not entirely convinced that Bruce had taken in a word he had said. At this he was swept out of the room by Lucius who said they would be in contact soon and the receptionist would show him out. He shut the door.
“A little concentration, at least at the end of the presentations would work wonders I believe, Mr. Wayne”.
Bruce rubbed his face yawning. “Sorry Fox, my mind was on other things”.
Tongues clashed.
Arms entwined.
Bare chests bumped together.
Bruce blinked his eyes then rubbed them again to get the images out of his mind. Lucius nodded wearily.
“What makes things easier though, is that it was a good presentation, but they have no substance” the older man explained as they exited the room “We won’t want to take that account on”. Bruce agreed, he didn’t really mind either way.
There were a number of people around them now. “Coincidently, there are a couple of articles in today’s paper that may be of interest to you. A fantastic one on spelunking , in fact. Peters” Fox dipped his head at a passing man. Both men reached the lifts.
“I’ll see you this evening at the function. Please try to stay awake, Mr. Wayne” the older man smirked and was gone.
Once up to receptionist’s desk Bruce grabbed the newspaper from it as his walked into his office.
Nothing was immediately obvious but on the fourth page there was a small article about a woman who was claiming her ex-husband was Batman.
She was attempting to say that he was the vigilante therefore he shouldn’t get custody of or any visitation rights to their two children as he was dangerous.
Bruce rolled his eyes, all it would take to disprove it would be to keep him somewhere and then let him go when they realise that Batman is out and about while this man is locked up. Some people.
There was another story on page twelve stating that three men had been found in an empty storage building. They appeared to have been deceased for a few days. All had a single bullet wound to the head. Investigations were continuing.
It sounded suspicious but there wasn’t much he could do. Things like that happened all the time in Gotham.
Bruce had just finished reading the paper when his phone rang.
“Bruce Wayne”
“We need to meet tonight”
“I’m sorry? Who is this?”
“Bruce Wayne”
“Yes it is, who is this?”
“Bruce Wayne”
“Speaking yes” he sighed “Where are you calling from?”
Suddenly in the background Bruce heard a familiar aged voice drawl “Who’s on first?”. It clicked.
“Sorry” Bruce apologised to his older self. “I get it” he shuffled a few pages on his desk. “I’m here at a function until just before 10. Where did you want to meet? Ahh” he found the page he was looking for and placed it in a folder.
“10 is fine, please be on time, it will be strange if I’m seen hanging around any area at night. We’ll meet near the coffee shop you often go to”.
“That sounds good”.
In the background Bruce heard “They do the most wonderful iced chocolates there. Did you know they let you choose these toppings and-”
“-I’ll see you tonight” the older Bruce confirmed and was gone.
Bruce smirked at the weary tone in the future Batman’s voice as he cut off the clown’s ramblings.
‘Poor guy. He’s living with two of them’ he realised as he put his head down to catch up on some rest before his function.
His dreams were void of any place where two Jokers resided, for now he considered that to be a good dream indeed.
“Is that so?” Bruce asked disinterested. A lady had been talking about the benefits of ordering all her stationary from overseas to ‘help fight injustice’ for the last twenty minutes. The function had begun a couple of hours ago and Bruce was at his wits end. Surely there is a less painful trade off for inheriting his money?
“That does sound interesting, but I’m afraid I’ve just seen someone I need to speak with” he explained convincingly. At this the lady politely thanked him and began to talk about exactly the same topic to another man nearby who couldn’t get away in time.
“Fox...save me” Bruce begged. The older man chuckled.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne, but this is all part of your job description”.
Bruce groaned. “I’ve just spent the last twenty minutes listening to the benefits of ordering stationery from overseas. I doubt that is in my contract”.
“Ah, that would be Ms. Jenkins”. The older man then frowned “I never invite her but she always seems to get in somehow”. He continued to look slightly perplexed but then shrugged his shoulders and popped a meatball in his mouth.
At this Bruce nearly choked on his sushi when he saw a familiar blond man enter the room. He was the other one from the warehouse a couple of nights ago.
“Who’s that?” the billionaire asked between coughs.
Fox narrowed his eyes “That would be Derrick Foster. And I know I didn’t invite him” he snapped coldly.
Bruce took a sip of water still struggling. “What does he do?” he choked out.
Fox gave Bruce eye contact and dropped his voice. “Crooked public relations man. Works with the mob. No one can prove it though. Goes around trying to gain funding and support from various Gotham leaders. Not too many people know his true ways so he’s still able to walk around with this head held high. Has a very high success rate from what I hear”.
He faced Bruce “He’s probably here to try something on you”. At this he blocked the man’s view of the billionaire. “I’d avoid him at all costs”.
Lucius turned around to see Foster talk to one man but looking around, most likely for Bruce.
“Perhaps it’s best if you leave, Mr. Wayne”.
“I don’t need telling twice” Bruce quipped, putting his glass down and shaking Fox’s hand as he chuckled at the younger man’s behaviour. “Take care”.
At that Bruce slipped out of the room and headed upstairs.
Back at his office, he turns on the lights which flicker into life. He put his keys and wallet down on his desk and sighs.
Something catches his attention on the wall opposite his desk. Sitting splay legged while leaning back on the expensive leather couch was The Joker. He apparently had poured himself a glass of Bruce’s very expensive scotch which he rested with an extended limb on the arm of the chair.
There was silence in which the two men sat still, keeping eye contact across the room.
“What are you doing here? What do you want?” Bruce questioned. He hoped that his voice had no trace of Batman. Was he here because thought Foster may approach Bruce Wayne? Or was he here because he’d finally figured things out?
The Joker casually swirled the drink, the down lights above him made his eyes more cavernous than ever.
Out of his bat suit and in his office, Bruce could feel the man’s commanding aura from across the room. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
“Hello, Bruce” the Joker called quietly, darkly. The billionaire noticed that the glass looked as though it hadn’t been touched. The man was just holding it for effect, to make himself look at home. Bruce realised the need to get himself together.
“What is it you want? You can’t be here. I’ll call the police-”
“No you won’t” the painted man stated matter-o-factly now leaning forward. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say”.
At this he brought the glass up to his face and took in the aroma of its contents. While he did this he allowed his statement to register on Bruce, he had all the time in the world.
The businessman finally gave in. “What is it then? Is it money you want?”.
He saw the purple gloved hand tighten around the glass. “I’ve proved I don’t care about money” the purple man growled, eyes flicking around the room in annoyance.
Bruce moved around and half sat on the front of the desk. Again the men faced each other. “Tell me what you’re here for then. You must be here for a reason”. ‘Please don’t let it be the reason I think it is’ he begged inwardly.
The Joker cracked his neck “Firstly, just letting you know I gave my word that I wouldn’t approach ‘Gotham’s Elite’ about my side of a little mission. I’ve kept my word” he purred lowly, eyes flashing. He moved to sit on the back of the chair, his shoes pressing into the expensive leather as if daring the other man to say something.
Bruce winced inwardly. Although, he suddenly realised how captivated he was by this man when he didn’t have to pretend he hated him.
As if telling a great tale, the jester began “A couple of years ago, I, uh, crashed one of your little fundraisers for Harvey...Harvey...Harvey Dent-ah. You apparently hid in a panic room. But that’s ok! The Bat Man saved the bunny”.
Bruce listened without interruption. He knew he had to remain calm to reduce suspicion. Perhaps if the man did suspect him he could talk his way out of it. His fists clenched subconsciously though at the mention of Rachel.
“Then” the man continued as he stood on the floor, untouched scotch still in hand “When the bunny and Dent were rigged up in those warehouses I was....otherwise occupied. But! I had the conversation between them recorded. I had these, uh, phones? Yeah phones...set up between them” he waved his hand absently “I listened to the recordings. Did you know she agreed to marry Haaaaarvey? Did you?”
Bruce felt rage pumping through his body, his brow dampening with sweat. He did everything in his power to prevent himself from physically attacking this man.
“As my men were....were making sure they were com-fort-able in their seats-ah, they asked her about her relationship with the Bat Man” he dropped his face down a little, holding the eye contact. He swept a tongue over his lips.
“She said, and I quote, ‘We’re just close friends’. To be honest, The Bats identity went to the back of my mind after that. I had...more important things on my mind”.
Bruce thought back to what else was happening at that time and held back a shiver. How could he talk about these things so casually?
“A Mr. Coleman Reese threatened to ‘Unveil The Bat Man’ at one point. But being the nice man I am I prevented that”. At this Bruce did shudder...’prevented’...
“Disgusting looking man, Coleman Reese, nervous, arrogant looking thing” he paced slightly again waving a hand. Then he stopped “Worked for you at one point I believe?” he looked at Bruce pointedly but left it at that. Bruce’s heart thumped loudly.
“Hrm...yes” the painted man muttered closing the space between them somewhat. He looked so casual but his eyes blazed. He played with the rim of the glass.
“The Bat would need a lot of money, Mr. Wayne-ah...Bat-Toys would be expensive-”
“-what are you suggesting?” Bruce called out, how was he going to get out of this? Where was security?
“-and he’d have to have no partner...no family...but I do digress” he gave a silent chuckle at Bruce’s outraged face. The brunette cursed himself, he had to keep himself together.
“Lately, I’ve been in-ter-es-ted once more in ‘the man behind the mask’. I’ve been doing research, ya see. Research is so...tiring...so the other day I took a break and flicked on the boob-tube”.
He now gave the air of someone giving a person some friendly advice “Daytime TV, I tell ya” he held his hands up to appear to be open “more terrifying than anything the Scarecrow could artificially create. Anyway, back to it” he sighed .
“On there was a story, a whole show about Gotham’s recent...what’s the word? Hrm, tragedies, that’s it...it did a run over on Dent and his squeeze, ya know”.
The Joker moved a few steps towards the other man again. Bruce stood up straight, he didn’t want to hear this. He could see the detail in his makeup once more.
“So...I watched. The bunny, blah blah blah. Assistant District Attorney, blah blah blah...I expected her to have all these friends. ‘We’re just good friends’ ya see” he became still.
“Then a sentence and image changed everything”. He raised his hands theatrically as if checking for the best angle before taking a photo, he didn’t spill a drop of the liquid as he did this.
“Up flashed a childhood picture of her with her friend outside his mansion. They said ‘Here she is with lifelong friend, Bruce Wayne’. Lifelong friend!” the irony that she was now dead and they were friends her whole life obviously wasn’t missed by him as he trying to stifle a smirk, looking the other man in the eye, daring him to react with violence. Bruce’s face burned with the injustice.
“It also said...and you’ll love this, it also said you and Dent were the only two in her life. O...dear-ah” he stepped right up close to Bruce.
“Move back” he warned. The clown did no such thing.
“You’re nowhere to be found at your own fundraiser. The arrogant whistle blower works for you, closely at one point. What’s-her-name, well I’ve been over that. You look nervous Brucey, here, have a drink”.
At this he hands Bruce the glass which he refuses.
“I wasn’t offering” he murmurs, placing the glass up to his lips.
“Are you trying to poison me?”
“Whaaaaat?” he questions “No no no no no. You just need to relax more”. At this he flashes a knife subtly.
He looked serious as Bruce empties the large drink down his throat, it burns on the way but it didn’t seem to be tainted.
“I don’t drink” he croaked out.
“Neither do I” was the smooth response. The Joker felt so close. Pressed up against the desk, Bruce had nowhere to go.
“Deny it all you want, Brucey” The Joker was now full of suppressed excitement, although instead of his usual animated voice it was low and full of hunger. “I know”.
He reached forward and ran a gloved hand through Bruce’s hair and leaned forward. “And it’s be-ute-ti-ful”.
Bruce stiffened at the contact but didn’t prevent the other man from touching him.
“You’re wrong”
“Oh, I’m never wrong” he leaned back and exclaimed “This is great! Now you and the other, uh, you don’t need to run around with your spandex and big growling voices. It’ll make our mission easier, hrm?”.
Bruce had to agree with that. But he’d sooner sell the Tumbler before he’d admit it to the man standing before him.
“What are you going to do if this is true?”
The Clown Prince looked thoughtful. “Hrm, well. I’d keep it to myself, it’s too good for anyone else. They’re not worthy enough to know”.
He stroked his chin “And, uh, I’d let the other two know they could break the charade. Annnd...it means I can finally do this” he swiftly sweeps down and claims Bruce’s lips with his own.
He pushed him back slightly so there was no way the other man could break away. Light exploded in front of Bruce’s eyes. This was amazing.
After a moment, Bruce couldn’t stop a moan escaping his throat as the other man forcefully invaded his mouth with a firm tongue.
He didn’t have to be pretend to be stoic, strong Batman right now and part of him loved that.
Hands were roaming his body and he revelled in the heat radiating off his nemesis.
Brain foggy and going with the flow, Bruce bit down on the other man’s bottom lip, not even thinking if that was the right thing to do or not.
Apparently it was, as a deep groan came from the other man and Bruce found himself pulled forward and slammed back into the desk so now he had to try hard not to fall back onto it.
The Joker somehow got Bruce’s blazer off without breaking the kiss and was doing his best to get Bruce to lie back, but it wasn’t working.
Changing his tactic, he pulls Bruce’s head back by his hair and starts an attack on the man’s neck.
Everything becomes even fuzzier as the only thing that matters right now are the feelings he’s experiencing. And boy, is he feeling them. The green haired man definitely seemed to know what he was doing.
The Joker began to undo Bruce’s belt, which he allowed, panting as he finally lay back on the desk.
He rolled his head to the side in a daze as he felt the tugging on the clothes covering his lower half.
He felt the effects of the alcohol now, obviously he wasn’t drunk but everything was being amplified and his resolve was lowered.
While laying there he looked at the wall to his right. At the door. At the painting on the wall and then at the clock. He noticed its colour, then he absently noticed the time. 10:02pm. Ah, 10:02pm.
His belt was off and he tried to lift his upper body to kiss the other man again but he was slammed back down. Bruce was fairly sure there was a stapler digging into his back somewhere and a pen stabbing onto his neck.
He then resided to the fact that, this time at least, the other man was in control. He relaxed completely...10:03pm...
“OH SHIT!” Bruce panicks pushing his way to his feet.
The Joker, with his paint smeared and eyes heavily lidded looks around in confusion “Ahhh, I didn’t touch you yet?”
“No, no, no. Damn it” he exclaims fumbling at his pants and reattaching his belt. “I was meant to meet my older self three minutes ago... about twenty minutes walk away! I’ll have to get a taxi. Damn it!”
Around his mouth itched so he dragged the back of his hand across it. It came back red and white.
“I need to get moving, they might notice something’s up”
“You’re telling me”. The Joker said in a slightly annoyed tone, hinting at his current unresolved predicament.
Bruce ignored that as he went over to his sink and mirror and washed the grease paint off his face hurriedly. He couldn’t believe how quickly that progressed. He needed to get going, he couldn’t rationalise this now.
“How the hell do you get this stuff off?” he asked The Joker who was now lounging on the desk.
“Beats me, I only put the stuff on”. At the death glare he received he shrugged his shoulders and suggested “Try some soap-ah?”
As Bruce did that the clown played with a few things on the desk below him to amuse himself and get his mind off other things.
He grabbed Bruce’s name plate with his title and messes around with the letters, taking some out completely until it reads ‘Wayne car’. He giggled to himself softly “Heh...wanker”.
“What was that?” Bruce called out with a towel over his face and the tap running loudly next to him. The Joker places the name plate down carefully.
“Oh, no no no. Nothing, nothing”. Bruce removed the towel to see the man in purple swinging his legs, sitting innocently with his hands in his lap, grinning.
Bruce looks at this watch as he sweeps over to grab his keys and wallet and made his way over to the door.
“Well I’m late. I take it you can let yourself out?” He pulls his blazer on.
The painted man dropped his chin and looked out from under his eye brows. “I let myself in, didn’t I?” Bruce didn’t want to acknowledge that.
“I’ll see you...later then”
“Byyyye, Batssss” the man called back cheerfully waving until the door softly closed.
“I’m sorry I’m late” Bruce called. His older self was wearing a black overcoat, hat and the most realistic fake beard he had ever seen. Bruce had somehow got a taxi, he never took the car to work on days he had a function.
“Wow...that looks real” he said indicating towards the facial hair.
“Yes” the man agreed. “The technology advances very quickly. We’ve brought a few with us. As you can imagine they’re great for Ja-, The Joker. Covers right over the scars”.
The younger Bruce, too involved in inspecting the hair, didn’t notice the name slip.
“So” the modern day man began looking up into the other man’s eyes as they began walking “you wanted to see me?”
At this his older self hands him an envelope. “My Joker let me know the younger clown had this made up. I’ve made a copy for you. Should have everything you need”.
“Does he have one on Garcia?” he asked with a little hesitance as he realised he hadn’t got any further in his research that day.
“No, my Joker assured me he only had the one report written up”. The younger man could see that the other was telling the truth.
“Ok, sounds good then”. He exhaled a long breath. His older self frowned.
“Have you been drinking?”.
Bruce hesitated. “Had to at the function, one of the owners we are trying to impress bought me a scotch and I couldn’t really refuse”.
The older man made a disapproved face and looked as though he was going to say something but didn’t.
“I’m not going out tonight if that’s what you’re worried about-”
“-it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Have a read through the report, it has quite a lot of information in it”.
They talked for a little while about how the whole operation was going and finished with how the function went. The older Bruce was in a good mood now.
The modern day man spoke up. “Well, I might head back now. Going to have an earlyish night for once. Alfred’s been at me about it, so he’ll be happy at least”.
The other man nodded. “See you soon then. Read that report and make sure you get that information on Garcia, I’d hate for The Joker to be right about him without us knowing first”.
Bruce agreed and began to walk off.
“O, and Bruce?” his older self called out. “You have lipstick on your collar”. The older man’s face was unreadable. Bruce tried to cover his reaction.
“Ah, yeah” he dramatically slapped his forehead “Hot....blonde. At, the...function”.
The other man raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah” Bruce continued in a very “public Bruce Wayne” way. “Huuuge...chest” he indicated with his hands. “Yeah” he winked and grinned.
“I see” his older self said trying to hide his amusement. The younger Bruce spoke up again.
“Well, I’ll see you soon then?”
“You will”. The suited man walked off. “O, and Bruce?”
The younger man turned around just wanting to get the hell out of there. “Blonde’s were never your type” he smirked.
Bruce opened his mouth to say something and pointed. But quickly shut it again, lowered his hand, turned on his heel and left. He could have sworn he heard laughing from behind him as his face burned red.
Next chapter
A/N: Wow, that took a lot of energy for some reason! Longest chapter yet and finally things are 'happening' between the younger two!
I had a comment that the text was a little hard to read so I've changed it. Please let me know if it's still difficult.
Thanks!