Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Joker, I wish I did. But I do own Desarai, so no stealing her if you please.
Author's Note: Pure crack. I wrote this in less then an hour and was laughing the whole time I wrote it. Hope you enjoy, I'm still deciding whether I should continue this or leave it as a one-shot. And yes, this is slash, so if you don't enjoy that, why exactly are you reading this? XD
Everyone in Gotham knows who Batman and the Joker are. At least half of the population has claimed to have seen Batman, at least a quarter have seen the Joker. And an amazing seventy-five percent blames one or both of them for the death of a loved one. Still, only about fifteen percent have walked away from one of the Jokers heists alive or been saved by Batman.
It might seem like useless math. Still, everyone in this city had some kind of experience that was singular and at the same time common in a place that has become a playground for vigilantes and Halloween villains for the last year.
But seeing Batman and the Joker kissing? As far as I know I'm special when it comes to that experience. And for the love of god, I'm not some faghag who got obsessed enough to follow these two around with delusions of grandeur that they were secretly a couple. It just all ended up being one big surprise to me. Just like it was a surprise to them when they saw me falling through the ceiling.
Okay, let me explain this. I feel the sudden need for a living will anyway.
My names Desarai Collins, Dezzy for short, and no I don't like it as much as everyone thinks I should. I used to be a scab nurse at Gotham General…I've been out of work for a few months now while they rebuild it.
Because of this wonderful lack of income I've had to downgrade my lifestyle. Moving out of Gotham proper and into the Narrows was the part I put off until rent came around and I had to bite my lip and get it over with.
The place isn't too bad, I actually found out there is a good and a bad neighborhood system to the Narrows. It's simple, the farther away from Arkham the better. Plus, I've been told by my new neighbors that if I'm ever really strapped for cash that they have street corner openings for me. Gotta love thoughtful pimps.
In between taking the bus to every hospital in Gotham in search of work I've been helping my landlord renovate some of the old apartments above mine for extra money. Using the sledgehammer was a great way to work out my anger issues over the whole situation.
Well, it was one of those rare days that the landlord didn't need my help, the stoners next door were quiet and I had nothing to do but stare at the cracking ceiling plaster. So I was perhaps more suicidal then usual and decided to have a nice walk through the Narrows at night. Really it hadn't been that bad, even the air had been a little clearer that night and no one bothered me. I didn't know then that there was a very good reason for that.
I was cutting through an abandoned building that someone had conveniently put in between me and my building on the way back when I heard noises. And these weren't mice noises, not unless the mice were some sixty pounds each and kickboxing.
It was coming from underneath my feet, I had to have been on the second floor or there was a basement. The floor shook, kicking up dust and I stepped back carefully. For all I knew the floor was about to cave from an earthquake, don't laugh, this is Gotham. If you can turn the Narrows into Mario Brothers on crack with some funny gas then we can have earthquakes.
While I was contemplating which direction to run out of the building my foot moved over a hole in the floor. I saw some quick movement pass by the hole and stopped in my tracks. Was that green?
I quickly went from an escape plan to lying on my belly with my eye squinting through the peephole. Properly named in this instance if the show I was getting wasn't porn movie fodder. I mean, come one, who hadn't at least thought about this being possible. Not me, but I wished I had.
At first it just looked like the Joker, yes that Joker, was attacking a wall. Very enthusiastically I might add. I would have laughed if I didn't enjoy life. But when the shadows moved and I saw that it was a very real person doing a dance with Gotham's favorite madman that any horny teenager would recognize I had to slap a hand over my mouth to not make a noise. To this day I don't know if that noise would have been a hysterical laugh or a girlish squeel.
I mean, it was nothing x-rated, but you try not to react when you catch Batman and his arch nemesis making out in the bottom of an abandoned building. Okay, making out is the wrong term when it comes to these two, trying to devour each other is probably the best term. And it was not gentle.
Now, I've never been a huge fan of gay porn or anything, I can flip past Queer as Folk without a quickened heartbeat and systematically enjoy it when nothing else is on. But I won't lie when I say watching these two was making me tingle in all the right places. I told myself I could be ashamed of myself later, when I wasn't hanging over my own death. That was about the time I realized I should be leaving.
I was waylaid for a few minutes when I heard the Joker whimper. I mean, he whimpered! I've never in my villain fearing life thought I could hear a man make such a wanton noise. Obviously I'd been doing the wrong thing for years, or I just wasn't Batman.
They changed position, Batman turning them around to slam the Joker back against the wall, not even breaking the kiss to do it. I was trying to figure out how Batman was breathing with that mask on when he started to peel it off. He didn't even manage to get it over his nose before I bolted upwards and away from the hole.
No! Do not want! Of everything, a peep show was fine. But I did not want to know who Batman was, just like I didn't want to see too much of the Joker's paint come off and realize he might be one of my neighbors.
Unfortunately, I had moved a little too quickly on a rickety old floor and there was a doomsday crack of wood in my ears before that very floor gave out and I went plummeting down. I hit ground level with enough force to hear bells ring in my ears and curse out loud.
For a few minutes I was too preoccupied with all the parts of me that were screaming in pain to realize the true horror of my current predicament. I was bleeding in a few places and my foot was turned at a funny angle, but all in all I'd been lucky.
The sudden, matter of fact smack of lips that I knew from tv made it very clear though that I really wasn't that lucky. I looked up to see two very surprised costumed men staring at me and the pieces of floor that had come down along for the ride.
Ever seen pure shock on a man wearing greasepaint or leather? It's fucking hysterical, especially when you realize you're officially dead and they'll never find your body, or they will, but in a million pieces across the city.
I opened my mouth to do something, expecting a laugh or a plea for mercy. Instead one word passed my lips along with a goofy grin.
P.S. Reviews make me a happy author. X3