Nightminds - Chapter 4
Title: Nightminds
Chapter: Chapter 4 of ?
Author:spygirl690
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Rating: R to NC17
Paring: Batman/Joker
Warnings: drug use, graphic violence (in later chapters)
Summary: “Sometimes it is the darkness that two people share that can bring them together.” This story examines the months Bruce spent in Princeton before returning home to start his journey in Batman Begins. The title was inspired by the Missy Higgin's song with the same name.
BIG thanks goes to my beta toriolees . You really saved me. I look forward to working with you.
Find all the previous chapters of Nightminds here.
Chapter Four
Jack tapped his fingers on the glass door of the large apartment building; “crown royal” as the other Princeton students called it.
The guard looked at him through the glass and Jack gave a short four-fingered wave. A buzz sounded to his left.
“Who are you here to see?” the guard’s voice crackled through the intercom.
Jack shifted towards the intercom, “Bruce Wayne.”
The guard looked up, no doubt assessing how disparate his casual appearance which consisted of old jeans and a t-shirt was from the rest of the residents navigating the hallways. Perhaps he should have waited to change for the party until after he dragged Bruce out of this fortress. Also, the thought of undressing anywhere near Bruce was tantalizing, to say the least.
“Name?”
“Jack Napier.”
The man looked down to check a book in front of him. Well at least he's extending me the professional courtesy, Jack thought with a laugh.
“You're not in the book,” the guard was not going to let him up, but no hurt in trying.
“Well I'm not going to make an appointment to see my friend, just call him up and tell him Jacky-boy is here,” said Jack.
The guard looked at him and then turned to grab the phone on the wall. Jack leaned against one of the cement ashtrays outside of the large doorway and waited. Will he come down? Jack knew the proposition would at the very least intrigue Bruce. After their encounter last Friday, Jack had tried to keep a closer eye on the billion-dollar heir and saw something interesting. Although many people approached him, Bruce kept mostly to himself. He would eat lunch with a small group sometimes, but he would mostly go back to his apartment and only emerged to go to the gym.
“I don't judge my actions by whether or not they will keep me in someone's good favor.”
After a year of peddling drugs to classmates and staff Jack had met nearly half of the people on the large campus. But he had yet to bump into anyone remotely interesting. Sure, his looks brought a few people into his bed now and then, but he disposed of them as quickly as he could. Women always wanted more than he wanted to give and men would always want to come back for seconds. It was all very boring.
He had stopped into Patterson's classroom on the first day of school to remind the flaccid old prick that he hadn't gotten him expelled. It was his niece's choice to take the acid; he'd only supplied it to her. Running around campus naked and screaming about her possessed clothing was her problem, not his. Jack never understood why people always blamed the dealer; it was the user's choice. The excuses people used to hide from the consequences of their actions were pathetic. That's what he loved about drugs; they stripped away layers, leaving people totally exposed. It may have been the only thing his parents ever really taught him, but it was a pretty good lesson.
“Mr. Napier,” the edge to the guard's voice indicated he had said it more than once.
Woopsie, Jack laughed to himself. Jack languidly turned towards the speaker.
“Yesssssss?” he drew out the syllable just to irritate the guard.
The door buzzed and Jack swung it open, walking into the small lobby adorned with leather wingbacks and a modest chandelier. If chandeliers could be modest.
The guard pointed towards the elevator, “Top floor.”
The elevator door opened and Jack did an animated two-step as he boarded. The brass doors shut and Jack was stuck staring at his own reflection. After a few seconds of the whirring elevator engine he remarked, “Quiet” and started humming some elevator music.
The elevator stopped at the tenth floor and the doors opened into an anteroom with a leather chair and a small table with a lamp. Beyond it was a large door with a golden number ten on it. Jack glanced around the confined space and then back at the number.
“Just in case someone gets lost, I guess,” he smirked as he knocked twice on the doorframe.
The door opened and Bruce was standing there in track bottoms, towel around his neck. He must have just gotten out of the shower; beads of moisture were still clinging to his shoulders.
Thank heaven for little boys...
“What do you want, Napier?” Bruce's voice sounded aggravated but Jack didn't miss the glint of amusement in his eyes.
“I have come to learn more about you as per our last conversation that was so rudely interrupted by a Gothic Lolita,” Jack said, leaning against the doorway so he could peer into the apartment beyond. A hardwood floor lead into a large sitting room with a rear-projection TV and another door to the left. The bedroom perhaps? Jack smiled at the thought.
“I'm busy,” Bruce had crossed his arms now. Uh oh, getting defensive, thought Jack.
“There is a party: I have to be there and I thought it may be a bit more tolerable with someone I could actually talk to,” said Jack.
Bruce gazed at him without speaking.
“I should add it is not going to be with your typical crowd,” Jack saw Bruce stiffen and knew he had poked the right spot.
“My typical crowd?”
“Yeah you know, the gifted ones who reside in this over-embellished mausoleum,” said Jack, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
Bruce's eyes flared with emotion, “Did you come here just to insult me?”
Jack moved from where he was leaning on the door frame to stand directly in front of Bruce.
“No, I came here to point out how stupid it is that you spend all of your time alone in your room in a apartment filled with people who don't understand you and that you don't understand,” Jack paused, standing in front of Bruce.
“Only to ask me to a party filled with people you don't understand and who don't understand you?” One side of Bruce's mouth was quirked up in a grin.
A smile spread across Jack's face, “Exactly.”
Jack couldn't help but laugh, Bruce had got him at his own game. Bruce chuckled a bit, and then took a deep breath, opening
the door more and standing aside.
“Come in,” he said.
Just a note. Posting on Wed is really kicking my ass. It's the same day as deadline for the paper I work at. So I promise I will update every 7 days.
Chapter: Chapter 4 of ?
Author:spygirl690
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Rating: R to NC17
Paring: Batman/Joker
Warnings: drug use, graphic violence (in later chapters)
Summary: “Sometimes it is the darkness that two people share that can bring them together.” This story examines the months Bruce spent in Princeton before returning home to start his journey in Batman Begins. The title was inspired by the Missy Higgin's song with the same name.
BIG thanks goes to my beta toriolees . You really saved me. I look forward to working with you.
Find all the previous chapters of Nightminds here.
Chapter Four
Jack tapped his fingers on the glass door of the large apartment building; “crown royal” as the other Princeton students called it.
The guard looked at him through the glass and Jack gave a short four-fingered wave. A buzz sounded to his left.
“Who are you here to see?” the guard’s voice crackled through the intercom.
Jack shifted towards the intercom, “Bruce Wayne.”
The guard looked up, no doubt assessing how disparate his casual appearance which consisted of old jeans and a t-shirt was from the rest of the residents navigating the hallways. Perhaps he should have waited to change for the party until after he dragged Bruce out of this fortress. Also, the thought of undressing anywhere near Bruce was tantalizing, to say the least.
“Name?”
“Jack Napier.”
The man looked down to check a book in front of him. Well at least he's extending me the professional courtesy, Jack thought with a laugh.
“You're not in the book,” the guard was not going to let him up, but no hurt in trying.
“Well I'm not going to make an appointment to see my friend, just call him up and tell him Jacky-boy is here,” said Jack.
The guard looked at him and then turned to grab the phone on the wall. Jack leaned against one of the cement ashtrays outside of the large doorway and waited. Will he come down? Jack knew the proposition would at the very least intrigue Bruce. After their encounter last Friday, Jack had tried to keep a closer eye on the billion-dollar heir and saw something interesting. Although many people approached him, Bruce kept mostly to himself. He would eat lunch with a small group sometimes, but he would mostly go back to his apartment and only emerged to go to the gym.
“I don't judge my actions by whether or not they will keep me in someone's good favor.”
After a year of peddling drugs to classmates and staff Jack had met nearly half of the people on the large campus. But he had yet to bump into anyone remotely interesting. Sure, his looks brought a few people into his bed now and then, but he disposed of them as quickly as he could. Women always wanted more than he wanted to give and men would always want to come back for seconds. It was all very boring.
He had stopped into Patterson's classroom on the first day of school to remind the flaccid old prick that he hadn't gotten him expelled. It was his niece's choice to take the acid; he'd only supplied it to her. Running around campus naked and screaming about her possessed clothing was her problem, not his. Jack never understood why people always blamed the dealer; it was the user's choice. The excuses people used to hide from the consequences of their actions were pathetic. That's what he loved about drugs; they stripped away layers, leaving people totally exposed. It may have been the only thing his parents ever really taught him, but it was a pretty good lesson.
“Mr. Napier,” the edge to the guard's voice indicated he had said it more than once.
Woopsie, Jack laughed to himself. Jack languidly turned towards the speaker.
“Yesssssss?” he drew out the syllable just to irritate the guard.
The door buzzed and Jack swung it open, walking into the small lobby adorned with leather wingbacks and a modest chandelier. If chandeliers could be modest.
The guard pointed towards the elevator, “Top floor.”
The elevator door opened and Jack did an animated two-step as he boarded. The brass doors shut and Jack was stuck staring at his own reflection. After a few seconds of the whirring elevator engine he remarked, “Quiet” and started humming some elevator music.
The elevator stopped at the tenth floor and the doors opened into an anteroom with a leather chair and a small table with a lamp. Beyond it was a large door with a golden number ten on it. Jack glanced around the confined space and then back at the number.
“Just in case someone gets lost, I guess,” he smirked as he knocked twice on the doorframe.
The door opened and Bruce was standing there in track bottoms, towel around his neck. He must have just gotten out of the shower; beads of moisture were still clinging to his shoulders.
Thank heaven for little boys...
“What do you want, Napier?” Bruce's voice sounded aggravated but Jack didn't miss the glint of amusement in his eyes.
“I have come to learn more about you as per our last conversation that was so rudely interrupted by a Gothic Lolita,” Jack said, leaning against the doorway so he could peer into the apartment beyond. A hardwood floor lead into a large sitting room with a rear-projection TV and another door to the left. The bedroom perhaps? Jack smiled at the thought.
“I'm busy,” Bruce had crossed his arms now. Uh oh, getting defensive, thought Jack.
“There is a party: I have to be there and I thought it may be a bit more tolerable with someone I could actually talk to,” said Jack.
Bruce gazed at him without speaking.
“I should add it is not going to be with your typical crowd,” Jack saw Bruce stiffen and knew he had poked the right spot.
“My typical crowd?”
“Yeah you know, the gifted ones who reside in this over-embellished mausoleum,” said Jack, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
Bruce's eyes flared with emotion, “Did you come here just to insult me?”
Jack moved from where he was leaning on the door frame to stand directly in front of Bruce.
“No, I came here to point out how stupid it is that you spend all of your time alone in your room in a apartment filled with people who don't understand you and that you don't understand,” Jack paused, standing in front of Bruce.
“Only to ask me to a party filled with people you don't understand and who don't understand you?” One side of Bruce's mouth was quirked up in a grin.
A smile spread across Jack's face, “Exactly.”
Jack couldn't help but laugh, Bruce had got him at his own game. Bruce chuckled a bit, and then took a deep breath, opening
the door more and standing aside.
“Come in,” he said.
Just a note. Posting on Wed is really kicking my ass. It's the same day as deadline for the paper I work at. So I promise I will update every 7 days.