Title: Bedtime Stories

Genre: Romance, psychological, horror

Pairing/characters: Batman/Joker

Setting: DCU

Disclaimer: Do not own so don’t sue me.

Rating: M for adult situations

Author’s note: Enjoy!

It had happened for the fourth time that week. Bruce had awoken to a cold sweat induced by Morpheus’ dirty old tricks. He at first brushed it off as his usual mental being playing mind games on him but since it had been a consecutive occurrence this past week since Tuesday, it had started getting to him. The contents of these dreams were the stuff of nightmares and yet they were so familiar. The plot had been the same but every time he woke up, it was fresh and new.

Bruce rose up from his bed, wearing nothing but a robe which absorbed the sweat from his stressed induced body. He splashed cold water onto his face. His opulent bathroom was adorned with ornate art such as gold handles and porcelain walls. The floor and bath tub were a dark colored slate and was festooned with turquoise stones. The place had an exotic theme, Caribbean. The beauty of this room was no match to what occurred in the dark recesses of Bruce’s mind as he replayed the tape in his head over and over. It did not involve a cannibalistic child molester, nor did it involve bombings such as the one that occurred in Oklahoma years ago. No, these dreams, as much as he was used to them now, still had that same ill effect. Also, it wasn’t the contents of the nocturnal coma that tortured his psyche. It was who was in it.

Bruce once again splashed cold water across his face, trying to get the feeling out of his mind but the pesky thing stuck to him like tar on good China and had the effect of getting caught with a piece of toilet paper getting caught in your shoe and your friends seeing it, except Bruce did not have friends whom he could tell this deep and dark little secrets too. He had allies, true and he had people he could trust to get the work done but this was something that even Captain Kirk would keep away from Scotty.

The dreams had the same plot, same characters but its effects had gotten worse and worse in the last few days. And they all featured the same man, his most sworn adversary. Not even Ras al Ghul would invade his mind in this manner. Yes, they all featured the same purple suited man with grassy green hair and pale skin. Small kids would understandably be afraid of this grotesque vision. After all, the creatures from Killer Clowns from Outer Space and Spawn’s enemy did not help combat the friendly image that Ronald McDonald promoted. Joker was the type of clown that would make the other two run away with their tails between their legs. Although he had gotten used to the psychopath’s antics, Joker’s imaginary behavior in his dreams had tested his tolerance. It was bad enough that he had stripped Barbara, literally, of her role as Batgirl by sending a bullet through her spine and severing the delicate discs and shattering a teenage boy’s brains to bits. What Bruce saw after he closed his eyes was on a whole different level that was highly personal and frankly, very embarrassing. No matter how hard he tried to quash the memories of what he had just ‘witnessed’, the thoughts would come back into his head, pounding. It was almost as if these thoughts had wanted to be acknowledged and he would not give them the time of day not because he didn’t want to, it’s because he didn’t have the time to. Yes, that was a legitimate excuse. Bruce was caught mentally between giving the stupid ideas more thought and imagining Alfred pointing and laughing at him. Ugh, no more. Besides, he was due for a seven AM meeting at Wayne Tower and the last thing he needed was to make up more excuses to miss them because he was out playing patrol man at night.

The playboy returned to his canopy bed. His muscles ached from being awake so suddenly. The feel of cool sheets against his bare skin was as welcoming as iced water to a parched vagabond. His heart rate had slowed down which meant that the ugly thoughts, whatever they were, were now leaving his mind to rest and for a man who lived his life on high alert and the adrenaline rush, this was quite a surprise, even for him. Like smoke, the memories became more and more suppressed, letting his brain waves electrify while his consciousness turned to mush. That was until he felt a snake-like grip reach out and wrap itself like one of Poison Ivy’s living vines across his bare stomach and chest.

Bruce was jerked awake from the intruder’s embrace. Not even Selina was this strong and although mysterious and feisty, even she knew better than to wake a naked man in his sleep in this manner. Whoever it was, they had a firm grip. The hands were delicate even behind the doeskin gloves but even he could tell that they belonged to a male, a very skinny one at that. A poorly suppressed giggle had confirmed his suspicions which made Bruce pounce and pin the thief in the night beneath him.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce growled onto the face of his enemy.

“Ssssh, do you wanna wake up your butler? I don’t think you would want him seeing you in this manner….” Joker said slyly as he writhed beneath the much larger man hovering on top of him.

The clown had a point and Bruce mumbled to himself but absolutely nothing would give him sweet pleasure than to break the teeth off his stupid face. He got up, letting himself and his body breathe. He did not want to be that close to the maniacal clown.

“That’s more like it. Now, aren’t you going to give me a warm welcome or are you just going to leave me here crying?” The clown teased as he nestled himself onto the side of the bed.

“Shut up,” the unmasked crusader said to the clown.

“Dear me, have I struck a nerve? Even I am not this rude to Harley…” the clown said in a mock gasp.

“That’s because you are too busy kicking the daylights out of the poor girl,” Bruce exclaimed. God, if that clown made some stupid insinuation about him and Robin, so help him God….

“I am not here to talk about the children, BATMAN,” Joker said in a low growl. “I’m here for something…..else.”

“That’s another thing, how did you know that it was me?” Bruce barked at the chalk skinned man.

“Hmmmm?” Joker said as he toyed with a golden trinket by Bruce’s bed. He spun the winder which made the animated figure come to life and emit a small tune. “Oh, you think I’m that stupid and that I wouldn’t figure it out? Who do you take me for, Curly Howard or Waldo Faldo? You give away so many clues, darling, it’s almost tragically comical.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Bruce snapped back.

“Comedy isn’t supposed to make sense, dearest, it just is. You can’t explain a joke without making it lose its essence. Now, if you are talking about how I came to find out your little secret, I had to do some investigating and didn’t take me long. I had to do a little research and I must tell you, it was like going back to college. As a matter of fact, I did. Stupid college brats wasting their energy on stupid things like facebook and chat rooms when they could be doing something constructive such as finding out the Batman’s real identity….”

Bruce felt his stomach turn into a knot. The idea of people actually investing time into trying to figure out who he was underneath the cowl was both ludicrous and expected. If some people believed in the Chupacabra then surely there would be a few desperate conspiracy theory types who would maybe, if they had the time and determination to figure out that Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy extraordinaire was actually the Dark Knight. If they did, he had been on the safe side because he had not seen anything that remotely linked the two as one.

“Oh my goodness, you should have seen some of the answers, darling…” Joker crooned. Answers, as in plural. That was good, at least. “Some people think you are Jimmy Hoffa’s son. Can you believe it?” Joker said while slapping his knee. “Others think you are a Ukrainian spy for the Communist party, hence your lack of the gab.” Joker hooted delightfully. He had not heard a good joke such as this since Lenny Bruce’s debut. Hearing all of this out of Joker’s mouth made Bruce’s stomach twist. It was embarrassing hearing such garbage come out of his mouth but it was quite another thing to actually hear the clown share these kinds of secrets with him, like he was sharing them with a close buddy.

“It didn’t take me long for me to figure it out, sweetheart.” Joker said in a throaty purr. “After all these years, your patterns became more and more obvious. I should know, I studied them, just like you do with your jiu jitsu,” Joker said in a low tone of voice which went from being a tenor to one resembling Jeremy Iron’s low growl. Bruce took another breath, waiting for the clown to stop pacing around him. He was in his most private space and he could not do a thing. He didn’t want Alfred coming in here. The last thing he wanted was to give the old man a heart attack and catch him in such an insidious manner.

“But you wanna know what the biggest giveaway was?” Joker responded with shining and excited eyes that brightened in the darkness of his room. He came closer, like a lion to an injured animal and going in for the kill. Bruce said nothing. Joker took the silence as a sign to proceed. “This…” Joker said in a soft effeminate tone as he thumbed Bruce’s chiseled chin. “Not even Clint Eastwood has anything on beauty such as this.” Joker said in a hushed tone, it was almost maternal. The clown was getting too close for comfort and so Bruce took the chance to grab the skinny clown by his rail thin arms. This was done to let him know who was boss. He let him have his chance but he was now in sacred territory and he was not about to let this man make him feel uncomfortable even in the most private of places and yet here he was closing in on him tightly like a giant python. Bruce would be the mongoose to his snake.

“You do that again and I am going to tear your arms off!” Bruce said in a stern manner into the clown’s face. Joker wrinkled up his nose.

“Eww, morning breath. Second of all, what makes you think I will fall for that one again?” Joker sighed lowly. It was the same merry go round. Bats would threaten him with some meaningless threat just to behave. Luckily, the clown had an extra ace up his sleeve.

“Don’t think I won’t do it clown, I could easily squeeze your esophagus with just enough pressure to make you lose consciousness but not kill you…” Bruce said warningly. He could smell the rose that was on the clown’s velvet lapel. Joker stifled.

“Before you do that, I have something to show you.” Joker said as he reached into his pants pockets at which at this point, Bruce tossed him over across the room, sending the clown flying. Joker was quick to his feet and began to scramble onto the canopy bed. Not taking any chances, Bruce leapt onto the clown once again pinning him down. He did not care if it looked awkward. The last thing he wanted was to give the clown some leverage. Joker giggled.

“Do you always have to have the same knee jerk reactions…?” Joker crooned.

“With you, I have to. In case you haven’t noticed for the last few years,” Bruce growled. Joker made a gesture by pointing his finger upwards to excuse himself. Bruce felt a buzzing and vibrating sensation beneath him. It was in the clown’s pants.

“One second, Bats…can you hear me now?” Joker said into the phone.

Bruce groaned. A high gibberish sound was heard from the other end of the phone.

“Not now, Harley baby…” Joker cooed into the phone. “Yes, please…I have something to show you,” Joker responded to the playboy, finally acknowledging him. At this point, the clown turned the phone around so that Bruce could see. It was a picture phone and he was greeted with an unwelcoming sight. Selina, still in costume was bound and gagged. She was tied up in a dirty slum and it was obvious that Quinn was there. Selina looked into the camera. She was desperate and caught in a web between a moll and a monster.

“You wanna talk to uncle Bats, baby?” Joker cooed into the receiver. “Here,” Joker said softly as he pressed the phone onto Bruce’s cheek.

“Hiya Bats! I got yer friend, da Catlady! If ya don’t do what my puddin’ says, Kitty will go kablooey!”

“Quinn, don’t! Catwoman!”

Bruce was met with the sound of raspberries into his ear and the line went dead.

“She’s a handful, I’m sorry…” Joker responded in a mock fashion and treated Quinn like she was his cute and messy toddler.

“You’re sick,” Bruce said to the clown.

“And you’re insane,” Joker spat back. “Tell us something we both don’t know,” Joker said hotly.

Bruce grabbed Joker wrists, squeezing them even more tightly. The memories had started coming back tenfold. He tried to suppress them but they came back clanging into his brain and ear. The scenario was a very familiar one and it wasn’t until he put two and two together that he realized the connection. The clown caught the subtle look on Bruce’s face. The look on his face wasn’t just one of a man wanting to punch the living daylights out of his arch nemeses. It was one of painful inhibition. This wasn’t a grasp of physical containment but an emotional one as well.

“You’re hiding something,” the clown said in a low deep sensual tone.

“And you’re exaggerating!” Bruce shot back. “You’re making up stuff that is not there.” The billionaire playboy said in a warning fashion.

“Then why are you yelling? I came here for something entirely different and now I am very intrigued by this secret that you have, Batman…” the white skinned man said in a soft manner. He reached up and brushed his gloved hands into the field of black. Bruce grabbed the clown’s skinny wrist.

“Repression is a very unhealthy habit, Batman.” Joker said softly.

“Look who is talking about unhealthy habits when they don’t even know a damn thing about discipline!” Bruce yelled back, sending flecks of spit into Joker’s face.

“At least I am not self righteous about it and at least I don’t go deluding myself over some silly crusade that does not even exist.” Joker shot back, shattering Bruce’s concentration.

“Bull, and you know it. I do it because it is right and because no one else will do it.”

“Baloney, and you know it.” Joker replied back, sneering. He took advantage and reached his other hand around to pat Bruce’s bareback. The playboy’s eyes widened. In an ill fated attempt, he reached for the clown’s other mischievous hand and instead landed on top of him, Joker smiled at the prospect. Bruce groaned. It was bad enough that he was lying on top of his worst enemy but internally, he felt this overwhelming sensation that this was all too familiar. He looked down at the clown who gazed back up at him. His eyes fluttered like that of a butterfly’s wings. The pit of his stomach swirled at the sight. It was the same vision he had in his sleep, except this time, it was all too real. This wasn’t supposed to be some sort of prophecy and yet, it felt as if this was supposed to happen and this time, he could not snap himself awake.

Not this time.

Joker was the black widow spider and yet, here he was underneath him, looking helpless and at the same time giving him an inviting look as if to comfort him. He didn’t want to let the clown go from beneath him and Joker himself didn’t seem too anxious either. His long sinewy fingers were twirling Bruce’s jet black hair before traveling down his back and torso. Bruce let out a groan and Joker smiled.

Now, it was not so much about Robin, Selina, Harley or the others. It was about the delicate dance that they both shared and they were about to take it on a deeper level. No matter how hard he tried, Bruce could not ignore Joker’s talented touch. The muscles in his body didn’t ache not just because he was in the same position because he was spraining them but because of desire as well and Joker was there to quench that thirst. No words needed to be traded to see what was in both of their minds, this just was, and even the clown could see it. His face had contorted into one of devilish delight to one of craving.

At that second, Bruce pressed himself forward to get a better look at the clown’s eyes. He had seen the same ones in his dreams except it was more bittersweet because here they were in front of him, yearning for that touch. Bruce began with the clown’s long neck. He sniffed it at first before administering his lips onto the smooth skin. The clown let out the most surprising sound the Batman had ever heard come out of him, a low purr and an approving one at that. He sniffed the flower on Joker’s collar. It was his mother’s favorite. The clown reciprocated by reaching out and pulling the playboy closer to him. He desperately wanted to see those blue eyes looking down at him again. At this point and time, the clown lost patience and pushed the playboy onto his back pinning him down and sitting on him. By keeping his hips in place, the clown let out an aggressive yelp as he removed himself of his jacket and yellow shirt. Once removed, the clown leaned back down and pressed his lips onto Bruce’s, finally possessing him in mind and body. Bruce responded by placing his hands onto the clown’s thin white back before traveling down and began to work on his trousers. The clown submitted when he felt Bruce tug at his belt buckle and began to slide them off his skin, feeling more and more freer as he rid himself of the damned article of clothing. Now, naked as his playmate, the clown leaned down and began what he started, his thighs were spread as he straddled the playboy’s hips, possessing him but as soon as the clown leaned back down, he had lost control of the dance once he felt the Bat roll him over onto his back once again. His legs were still wrapped around him but he was no longer in the driver’s seat. It didn’t matter to him anymore because he now had the Bat’s attention and although he was in charge now, he originally brought him down to his knees and he was now reaping the reward. He finally cracked the Bat’s secret code.

The next morning, Bruce awoke with renewed energy. His eyes fluttered against the morning light that peered against the window. It was as if nothing had transpired in the evening but he knew better. He looked over to the side only to find no evidence of Joker being present. The side of the bed was neat. Perhaps that was a dream as well? It certainly did not feel like a nightmare but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to repress it again. It was on par with one of those dreams where you go to class in your underwear except the one he had felt more….pleasant.

Bruce made his way to his themed bathroom and splashed cold water to shake off the grogginess from his face. His eyes snapped open and awake when he noted something next to the hot towels. It was a rose, a pink one, Joker’s, with a note to the side.

Thanks for the bedtime story,

J

Hello, I'm back from a long hiatus. For those following OMC, I apologize for the inconvenience. Due to RL issues, I'll update when I can. Please be patient. I wrote this after feeling the writing itch. I'm glad I am back. All hate mail, death threats and anthrax envelopes can be sent to 12345 I Don't Give A Damn Road, Hell, USA.