I write and I read. My life has been reduced to coffee, work, college, friends, and my wonderful Ubuntu powered laptop––Charlie Brown (though not necessarily in that order). Main fandoms at the moment are The Bartimaeus Trilogy, Batman, Boys Next Door, The Colbert Report, The Daily Show, Doctor Who, Inception, BBC Merlin, BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes (Ritchie-verse), Star Trek, Suits, Supernatural, Tokyo Babylon, Transformers, and X/1999.

Journal/ Friending policy: My journal is mostly about my life, random nerdy school stuff, rants, politics, and fandom. If you don't know me or understand how I am you'll be very bored. Some posts are occasionally public but that doesn't happen often. I don't friend for the sake of friending––I'd rather have some common interests before we start talking. If you friend me without commenting, your chances of mutual friendship will become slim to none and you will be ignored. Still feel like friending me? Leave a comment and let's get to business.

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【 I hold the Crest of Hope 】

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Change
A series of 50 AAML 100-word drabbles

Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Pairing(s): Ash/Misty, Ash/May, Misty/Tracey
Fandom: Pokemon
Genre(s): Romance/Angst
Note: This is something that I've been wanting to do for a while. I shall be doing them in batches of ten since I don't want to go through the trouble of putting it all together-LJ cuts hate me after all (-_-) HOWEVER! I must warn all readers, this is VERY different to what I've normally written, as you can see from the pairings. But no worries~ It'll all end relatively well. A good song to listen to this is Everything You Want By Vertical Horizon. Trust me, I don't know how but it fits. XD You'll see as you read along.

( Batch I - Drabbles I - X )

---

Once the wheels of change have begun turning, it's hard to stop them moving


XI:Things Are Changing

Misty sat in the changing rooms, still in her mermaid suit, waiting for Tracey to enter, her mind a tornado of emotions. Tracey had kissed her... But why?

Did Tracey like her? No, that was absurd-well no, hold that thought, he had been spending a lot of time with her but did that mean...?

Oh... God... It all made sense. His glances, his pained looks when she talked of Ash, his body movements... Tracey... liked her...

And did she..? Her eyes widened at the realization. She... liked Tracey... But what about Ash? Did she still love him like before?



XII: Do Wrong

I sat in the same seat that I had witnessed that horrible scene void of all feelings as I continued to stare at the pool.

"Ash?"

I didn't turn, didn't want to. I knew it was May.

"Ash...?" she sat next to me, and slowly wrapped her arms around me. I leaned into the embrace, lost for words.

She apparently couldn't find any comfort for me either except in this warm hug. But it was enough.

"I love her May." I whispered. "What did I do wrong...?"

"I don't know Ash." May murmured. "That's something you'll have to ask her."



XIII: Luckiest Guy On Earth

"Tracey, we need to talk." I sat primly before him. "Why did you kiss me?"

"Ahh..." he sweatdropped, scratching his head. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to go through with this."

"Trace-"

"Look," Surprisingly, he put a finger on my lips. "I know you love Ash, I understand." he smiled. "Just know... I'm here for you and will be with you all the way-no matter who you choose." he grinned. "And if it's me-well then I'll be the luckiest guy on Earth."

He walked away and casting my eyes downward I murmured, "I think you already are..."



XIV: In Her Arms

For how long we embraced, I don't know, but I felt better being in her arms.

I looked up at her for a moment and found myself lost in her deep blue eyes. Suddenly I felt a funny fleeting sensation as her grip tightened around my shoulders.

What the hell was I doing? Why was I kissing May? I love Misty, I love Misty, I love...

"Ash..." May pulled away abruptly. "This isn't right."

"I... yeah." I nodded.

I suddenly stiffened as I felt eyes upon me and looked around to see hurt cerulean blue-green ones looking into mine.



XV: Right Things At the Right Time

I walked around aimlessly about the Gym. Azurill in my arms, mind a tangle of confusion. Who did I want? There was Tracey-he was always here, treating me nicely, and saying the right things at the right time. I liked him. And there was Ash-he was always calling me scrawny and telling everyone I was a tomboy.... But I loved Ash.

He was my best friend before anything, even when we were apart. I don't think I ever stopped loving him. And Brock told me he felt the same.

But if he did, why was he kissing May?



XVI: Total Honesty

"That was wrong Ash." May was looking away from me pointedly. "That is playing with a girl's emotions. That's not nice."

"I know." I groaned in self-disgust. "It was stupid-I did it on impulse. Don't worry. It won't happen again."

"Good." May stared at me fiercely "Because as much as I like you Ash- I will not under any circumstances go out with you until you get your feeling straight. I like you a lot but I want total honesty in a relationship."

"Ohh-kay..." I nodded, sweatdropping weakly.

"C'mon let's go eat." she suggested smiling.

"Okay, let's go."



XVII: Decision Taken

I strode briskly past rooms, inquiring after the person I was searching for. Everyone pointed me in various directions and finally when I found him, it was only to see him talking to Max.

Impatiently I waited for him before I dragged him away.

"Tracey, I've made my decision."

"Oh?"

"I choose you."

"I understand--wait what?" he stared incredulously.

"I want you."

"Are you sure? You're not kidding are you?"

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" I looked up at him fiercely. "Unless you don't want to."

"No I'm fine-"

"Good. Now c'mon!"

"Where?"

"We're going on a date!"



XVIII: Total Fangirl

Being with May sure helped me realize a few things. For starters, I found out how much she liked me and how much of a fangirl she was. I sweatdropped slightly at her continued rants throughout the meal. And like any fangirl she loved the male in any situation. And in this case, she liked me. How lucky...

Of course she said she would never dream of taking me away from my "beloved" Misty unless I asked. Great.

As I sat there, through her ramblings, I noticed a pair enter the deli. A pair that I dread to see together.



XIX: New Feeling

Being open with Tracey about my sudden crush on him, required processing a lot of info and getting used to new sensations.

For example I was used to the way he wrapped his arms around my shoulder and placed his head on my joint. But that didn't mean I didn't like it. By all means I was happy, just a little embarrassed by this display of affection.

The new feeling would take time in getting used to. But it was worth it.

And if I showed any smugness in feeling a pair of chocolate brown eyes watching me-Tracey didn't notice.



XX: Complicated

She loves you Ash." I heard May say from behind me.

"Oh yeah? Then why is she with Tracey?" I countered, jealously etching in my voice. "I don't see think that's love May."

"Look Ash..." she sighed. "We girls are complicated... But she's doing it for love..."

"I see no love in there for me-looks to me like it's all for Tracey."

"Oh Ash, it's so obvious!"

"What is?"

"She's trying to get you jealous!"

"That' stupid."

"I know. But look at me, I like you and I'm rooting for Misty!"

Silence then-

"Thanks May."

She smiled warmly, "You're welcome."

---

( Batch III - Drabbles XXI - XXX )
( Batch IV - Drabbles XXXI - XL )
( Batch V - Drabbles XLI - L )

Change
A series of 50 AAML 100-word drabbles

Author: DayDreamer64/MadWanderer
Pairing(s): Ash/Misty, Ash/May, Misty/Tracey
Fandom: Pokemon
Genre(s): Romance/Angst
Note: This is something that I've been wanting to do for a while. I shall be doing them in batches of ten since I don't want to go through the trouble of putting it all together-LJ cuts hate me after all (-_-) HOWEVER! I must warn all readers, this is VERY different to what I've normally written, as you can see from the pairings. But no worries~ It'll all end relatively well. A good song to listen to this is Everything You Want By Vertical Horizon. Trust me, I don't know how but it fits. XD You'll see as you read along.

---

Once the wheels of change have begun turning, it's hard to stop them moving


I: He knew

"Why didn't you tell him?" Tracey asked me as he helped me feed the Pokemon. "You could have."

"Why didn't I tell who what?" I asked.

I tried to keep my voice level and even. A blush crept onto my face. Was he referring to...?

"You know who and what I mean," he said. He was smiling.

"Enlighten me Trace," I said. "I, honestly don't know what you mean."

He shrugged, an apology in disguise, and continued to drop the Pokechow in the tank. He knew. He knew how I felt for him. He knew how I felt for Ash.



II: One Girl

"Hey Ash, have you had any girlfriends?" May asked me.

We were sitting alone in the cafeteria of the Pokemon Center.

"Huh?" Where was she going with this? "Why?"

"I'm just asking." May winked mischievously.

"Well... none." I admitted sheepishly.

"Really?" May's eyes widened in surprise. "How come?"

"Well, I never wanted one." Until she left. "And besides girls don't like me."

"Aww! That's so naïve!" May giggled.

"Naïve? How?"

"There are plenty of girls who must like you so just choose the one you want most!"

There was one I wanted. The one girl that I missed.



III: Being Here

Sometimes I forget how you used to act, Ash. I'm getting used to living in those memories. But sometimes I forget life isn't about remembering, it's about living. Tracey seems to remind me everyday.

"You go Misty!" He shouted. The sole spectator in the stands as I battled. "C'mon Corsola!"

"Corsola, use Tackle!" I ordered, smiling.

The battle was over. I've won and Tracey was at my side instantly, congratulating me. We wished the trainer good luck and walked to the Pokemon Center.

"Hey Trace," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being here." I smiled.

"Anything for you Misty."



IV: Shopping

May sure likes shopping, I think. She had been rushing me around, from one shop to another for the past two hours. Brock and Max had mysteriously disappeared to leave me as her only bag carrier.

"Doesn't this dress look cute?" She asked. "Here, I'll go try it on!"

She rushed into the fitting room, leaving me to wait outside. I should have known better than to let my guard down.

"How do I look?"

I look up and for a moment, all I can do is stare.

"Wow.. You look great!"

"Really?"

"Really!"

And she does. She looks beautiful.



V: Old Memories

I stared down at the pictures of us in my photo album, telling stories to Azurill of my crazy adventures.

I lurk amongst the old memories of myself with Ash and Brock. There are so many pictures but then these give way to recent ones.

There are pictures of Tracey and I. One where we're swimming in the pool. One of the show we've had. One with the two of us just talking.

So many pictures, so many new memories to stock and file away in my memory to be taken out another day. I've had enough remembering old memories.



VI: Plans for A Visit

I've won another battle again. Everyone is congratulating me, but something's missing. What could it be?

Pikachu watched me curiously, as I stalked my room. Why was I pacing? Why was I feeling depressed? Why was even I thinking? I knew what to do. I smiled as I turn to face Pikachu. He still can't read all my thoughts but we're working on it.

"Hey buddy. Let's go visit Misty," I said.

Pikachu perked up considerably at the idea and nodded happily.

It's been a while since I last saw Misty. I knew I wanted to see her face again.



VII: Don't know

"He's coming to visit Cerulean City," Tracey said.

"Who?"

"Who else? Ash."

I felt a blush stain my indifference. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Ah."

There was silence then––

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?" I asked. "Tell him that I like him and destroy our friendship? Tell him that I wish he would just be with me?" I turn away. "I can't. I'm not ready."

"When will you be?"

"I don't know." The truth of my answer scares me. Didn't I used to be so sure? Why was I suddenly afraid? Why was I scared? "I just don't know."



VIII: Everyone Knew

"So Ash, tell me what's the point in us visiting Misty?" May asked. There's a knowing smile on her pleasant features.

"What do mean?"

"I mean, are you planning on telling her?"

"Telling Misty what?" What was she talking about?

"Oh, don't act dumb! You like her, right?"

"Huh?!" I was completely bewildered. Where had she gotten that from? I had never told her that or anyone else for that matter. "She's my friend, of course I like her."

"Not like that! I mean, she's the girl you want!"

"WHAT?!"

"Ohhhhh! So Brock was right. Awesome!"

Oh great, everyone knew.



IX: A Feeling

I walked about the Gym, Azurill in my arms, lost in thought. Tomorrow Ash was coming and Daisy had arranged for a show. I should've been thankful for her involvement––the gym had been so quiet––but I wasn't.

I was afraid of Ash's visit and I couldn't shake the feeling off. He was going to be in the first row at the show and I wasn't too sure about that.

Tracey was going to play the prince, I was to be the mermaid––everything like usual but I still had this strange feeling. Something was to happen...but what?



X: Jealousy

Ash sat in the first row, Pikachu in his arms, friends sitting around him, waiting for Daisy's last narration of the show. He just wanted this to end so he could go see Misty. He needed to finally see her and maybe––

"And the prince sealed the confession with one breathtaking kiss..." Daisy's voice was heard.

"What?!" Ash snapped to attention.

"There's a kiss?" May asked.

"There was never one before!" Brock murmured.

Ash watched the scene unfurl before him, his insides turned cold at the sight of his friend, Tracey, kissing the girl he loved, Misty. He felt numb.

---

( Batch II - Drabbles XI - XX )
( Batch III - Drabbles XXI - XXX )
( Batch IV - Drabbles XXXI - XL )
( Batch V - Drabbles XLI - L )

Title: Fugue
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Cobb/Ariadne
Genre(s): Romance, Dark
Prompt: He feels like he's corrupting her.
Rating: light R
Word Count: 1720
Summary: She falls for his ideas so fast and so many times over that he's lost in what he's just created.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: Mentions of sex.
Note: Fill for this prompt. I listened to “Fugue for Solo Guitar, BWV 1000 in A Minor” the entire time I was writing this. The meaning of “fugue” is the following: A polyphonic composition, developed from a given theme or themes, according to strict contrapuntal rules. The theme is first given out by one voice or part, and then, while that pursues its way, it is repeated by another at the interval of a fifth or fourth, and so on, until all the parts have answered one by one, continuing their several melodies and interweaving them in one complex progressive whole, in which the theme is often lost and reappears.” And yes, the meaning inspired me even more than the actual instrumental piece but the music was a lovely inspiration

Read @ AO3

Read @ DW

---

She comes to see him exactly one week after the job. He doesn't bother asking her in because she chooses to walk outside. The ease and familiarity of it is surprising but welcomed. So much so that he never notices how long they've been walking until it's well after dusk. He reaches instantly for his totem and finds her eyes watching him as his hand goes for the inside of his jacket. She smiles at him and beckons him to follow her.

“Happens to me a lot now,” she says by way of explanation. “Usually I head into a store to shake it off.”

They walk to a café and inside she leaves him at a table in the corner to order coffee. He sits at the table and eyes his totem, breathing easing at last when he sees that reality makes it topple.

She sets down his cup and hands him a couple of sugars, already sipping her own. Her hand is in her pocket and he knows she too is touching her own reassurance on reality. He watches as she smiles and sits down.

“Saito called me the other day,” she begins. “He says he has another job for us.”

Cobb's surprise must show because in the next instant she's explaining everything.

“He recommended us to a couple of his colleagues- I've looked the cases over with Arthur and Eames- they say they're calling them simple cases that can turn ugly. So they said they'd do it if you came along,” she smiles a little uncertainly.

He looks at her, at a loss for words and closes his eyes, “why do you want to do it? Arthur and Eames I can understand but you?”

Her smiles grows wider, “Arthur said you'd ask that, so...” she sets her cup down and folds her hands neatly above the table. “He said I should tell you the truth- I want to keep doing this.” He stares at her incredulously but she continues, “you told Arthur I'd come back and I did. But now, I can't go away now. Not when...-”

“-when there are worlds for you to build,” Cobb finishes for her knowing exactly what she means.

Her soft smile is shy and he can't help but nod at her, “let me see file and then I'll decide.”

*

And so this is how it starts and how it continues even long after each job is “the last one Cobb, I swear.” And each and every time all he can tell her is to see the file before he decides. And he always says yes. Which is why he isn't surprised that Arthur and Eames start sending her every time, leaving her to the job of convincing him to take the next job. Saito's become more than just the tourist now, he picks amongst the many demands for them. He has become something of a supervisor, ensuring they are paid and kept safe.

In a way it feels nice and comforting and almost like a regular job. He rarely leaves the country (or state for that matter), and comes home to his children every single day. Not once has he missed a meal with them, on any of the new jobs they've been on. But the more they delve into dreams the more he wonders if perhaps it was a good idea in the first place.

The routine of the new extractions are a dream for him. He doesn't have to travel and gets to stay in a familiar environment as the contractors bring the targets to them. The only thing that makes him worry is Ariadne who has fallen into her role of architect so well that it almost seems as if she's been building forever.

She loves building. It fascinates her and captures her attention in ways he knows it can't for others. Yet every time they slip into a dream, he sees in her eyes a new gleam of need, and suddenly certain landscapes of the dreams begin to change to her every thought. The dreamer always notices and the target's subconscious always attacks.

And this always makes her smile.

*

For the most part he'll leave the debriefs to Arthur but every now and then, he'll rent a warehouse for them to explain the job himself, alongside Ariadne's who's already begun to plan. It feels odd to have her stand up beside him to lay out the plan of the dream but he allows her to do it. And he watches her revel in the position before them all.

It takes a while before he begins to notice her escapades from the warehouse with Yusuf to his apartment. At first he thinks something is going on there but the professional way they treat each other tells a different story. It isn't until he stays a little longer than usual that he realizes what's going on.

This particular assignment has kept the entire team away from their homes for hours on end and Arthur has told him that Ariadne set up her own sleeping area earlier in the week. He expects to find her working late, he expects to see her bending over a new maze, he expects to talk her into taking a break. What he doesn't expect is to find her sprawled across a chair, IV needle stuck in her vein as she dreams unsupervised and alone.

He looks at her for just a moment before he leaves.

*

It's about a week later and he's seen her hooked up at least five of those seven nights with only Yusuf to help her at the beginning and at the end of her nightly journeys. He feels helpless as he watches her from afar, wondering if he should return the favor and intrude in on her or not.

On the seventh night, he stops wondering and locks the door behind him, hoping to find something less disturbing than his own dreams.

He should have known better- she isn't like him.

The entire dream is happy and bright to such a degree that the light of the buildings blinds him in the present afternoon scene. There is nothing stifling about the dream, no signs of regrets or sorrows to be hidden in the deep recesses of her mind. There is only brilliance and sheer beauty that twines well with her nature. He walks around, hoping to find her only to come across a stray memory of children he knows are his. He stares, at a loss for words until he catches sight of her.

There she is, staring at the building and shaping it over and over again, projections sliding in and out of focus as she wills them away, attention solely on the leaning glass structure before her. Curiously he spots one projection stand with her, one that doesn't fade away, one she turns to smiles at quite often as the building changes.

It's himself.

Cobb stares at him before he find his same blue eyes staring back at him. Ariadne turns without a flicker of surprise and begins walking towards him with her hands in her pockets and a new gleam in her eyes.

“Decided it was time for payback?” she asks with a smile.

“Something like that,” Cobb nods. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing,” she replies. “I've been trying to come up with new things to build but I never finish them here...” she walks over to a lamppost, trailing her delicate small fingers over the dark fuzzy angles. “I like seeing them finished in our jobs. That way, I don't end up thinking they're actually real.”

“And why am I here?” Cobb points at his own projection standing beside her.

“Well, you remind me why to never finish things,” Ariadne replies with a laugh.

*

He figures her dreams don't hurt and sometimes he volunteers to accompany her, ignoring Arthur's raised eyebrows and Eames' innocent whistle. Yet her smile is easy as she nods and beckons him to follow her into a shared space of conscious.

It's innocent at first- just a simple act of watching her build and rebuild again and again, leaving things unfinished as she walks in her city of buildings longing for her delicate touch. Soon he takes to directing her a little. Nudging her with a smile and a nod as she turns to look at him for guidance on the aspects of a new building. He points out the possible flaws and the new things she could possibly do with the mazes.

And she agrees to it all with a smile of her own, the building already shaping to his suggestions without her gaze to supervise. She falls so fast for his ideas and thoughts that it leaves him in awe when she guesses for him and does everything the way he thinks would look best. She knows exactly what he's thinking before he even does and soon it begins to make him wonder.

What if he pushed a little harder? Went a little out his limits and asked more of her? He tries it once, and she complies easily and it's too much for him. He can't stand it. He needs to know why.

So he takes her, forces her mind to open for him and she does, spreading herself to accommodate him. Her gasps fill the dream along with his grunts and thrusts and little pants of breath.

It's too much and he wants it all from her. He can see what she can do. He can see now what she's been doing all this time. He can see it all. And it bothers him, because he knows in a way he's created this. Just like he created Mal's destruction, he's created this for Ariadne.

When they wake from the bliss of the dream, she's on him, smiling and coy and God help him, he knows he shouldn't want it (she's too young) but he does. So he lets her do what she pleases, basking in her own primal destruction and her need. He knows he's changed her, corrupted her, and done something like inception to her by showing her and allowing her to do this much so early but he can't help it- he wants to see where this ends.

He just hopes it doesn't end too soon.


Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: Caught in Your Hold
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Cobb/Ariadne
Genre(s): Crack, Fluff
Prompt: Everyone is absolutely assured that their next job will go without complications. Of course there's the Obligatory Complication, and it comes in the form of Ariadne and Cobb being handcuffed to each other in a hotel room. Cue awkward maneuvering while attempting to search for the key.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1536
Summary: It was supposed to be an easy job.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: None I can think of except for innuendo? But then why would you be reading this journal in the first place?
Note: I had fun with this one. Fill for this prompt. :3

Read @ AO3

Read @ DW

---

It's exactly six months after inception that Cobb finally takes on another job. Saito is the one who offers it to him, handing over the files with a warm smile and a comment about how the best never retire. Flattering as it may be, it takes him a good week before he accepts the job and even then he has to seriously think who he's going to take on in his team. At least that's before Arthur comes to his doorstep and demands to know why he hasn't called. After which Eames and Ariadne show up, following Arthur's example of insisting they'd be useful and probably the only people he could trust with the job.

He agrees but only after Ariadne promises his children that she'll bring him back as soon as the job is over and they'll all go out for ice cream afterwards. And since his children were happy with that, well then so was he. In theory it's supposed to be a simple extraction- a simple matter of tricking and distracting the target's subconscious long enough as they steal the necessary information.

But of course, because it's them, something just has to go wrong.

Arthur had mentioned that the target's subconscious had been attempted for extraction several times before with little success since previous extractors had found themselves handcuffed randomly to a person in their team. Yet Cobb had brushed it off as unimportant- it had only happened once, it was highly unlikely to happen again.

He should have known better.

“If you ask me, it doesn't seem so bad,” Eames comments dryly. “It's better than getting shot.”

Cobb glares at him and waves them off, “go do distraction for us- I'll find the key.”

Eames salutes and all but drags an amused Arthur out the hotel door. The resounding silence that ensues as the door clicks shut makes him stare down at his companion. She smiles up at him grimly and he can feel her hand twitching slightly.

“So... how do you want to do this?”

At first he's sure of what he's doing. He looks around for a bit and searches the most likely places for a key without much success. All the while in his search, he is completely aware of the way Ariadne is forced to stand right beside him, arm stretching out next to his as it moves this way and that. Even he can feel the discomfort running through her.

He shifts uneasily and runs his free hand over his chin. What had the report said again? Arthur in his amusement had mentioned it at least twice, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. It was something important about the hiding place of the keys for the past extractors who had been in their current situation.

“You don't remember do you?” Ariadne sighs.

“Pardon?” Cobb turns to her and finds her squirming uncomfortably on the spot.

“Arthur said that the past extractors had to deal with it... for a while.”

Cobb stares at her, yes he knew the handcuffs didn't immediately disappear after a key was found but what he didn't understand was why she was just standing there, as if it was something horribly embarrassing. It was a rather silly predicament but nothing they couldn't handle.

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, “The previous extractors did mention something about the target coming to them...”

Cobb stares at her. Then he groans. If that's how it is then that means-

“Well then we'd better get out of here.”

“But what about the ke-”

“If the target finds us in here, and sees us like this, then she'll know we're not supposed to be here.”

Realization dawns upon her and she nods, moving with him as they scramble for the door, slipping and colliding awkwardly with one another. Cobb drags her, his long legs taking more of the distance between them and the stairwell. He hears her huffs and puffs of her attempts to keep up with him and takes pity on her, grabbing them both and maneuvering them both onto the lobby floor and into a nearby storage room.

He flicks on the light and looks around, if the target has any luggage here then they're screwed. Otherwise...-

“We should be fine now.”

“Yeah, for now,” she replies sarcastically as she lifts her wrist to rub beneath the metal bond surrounding it. “What are we going to do when we actually have to run away from people?”

Cobb opens his mouth then pauses a little lost for words. He sighs and closes his mouth, slumping against the wall only to have Ariadne jerk forward with him. He grunts as she collides with him and immediately stiffens when she places her hands on his chest. He hasn't had someone touch him like that in so lo-

She backs off immediately, and he watches with intrigue as she blushes a little and attempts to pull back only to have him dragged into her. A squeak and a grunt later and they're toppled over some boxes, her lithe frame crushed beneath his.

“Sorry,” he mutters, moving to stand up, reaching out to grip her hand cuffed to his, and settling them firmly on the floor.

A few moments are spent in evening their breath and looking at everywhere except themselves. Then Cobb decides enough is enough.

“Look we can't just sit here through the entire dream, we've got to help the team,” he slips a hand in his pocket.

“I'm not sure if you've noticed but I'm pretty sure if we get caught by any of the projections with handcuffs, Smith will know we're not supposed to be here,” Ariadne sighs and idly pushes a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “I think we should just... try and figure out where the key is.”

Cobb's brow furrows. Well, it is the only thing they can do right now. Only one problem-

“And where do you propose we start looking?”

Ariadne closes her mouth and glares at the floor, right hand automatically going up her scarf only to have his weight pull it back down. She frowns and sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat, “I'm not sure... I mean these handcuffs should have a-”

She never gets to finish her sentence because in the next moment the door opens, revealing a lovely young brunette, staring at both of them with mild surprise.

“Am I by any chance interrupting something?”

Ariadne stiffens beside him and his legs flex, ready to start running at any given moment. He tilts his head to the side and asks, “and just what do you think you're interrupting?”

“Well obviously some sort of kinky sex since you've got handcuffs on her- might I also add that if you cuff her other hand it'd be much more enjoyable to see her squirm?”

His younger companion gasps beside him and he immediately moves in front of her, shielding their linked hands from view. Did Smith think this was-?


“Ah, I see... Don't worry I get the clue- I'll leave you two alone,” she waves them off with a smile. “I was just wondering if you two could hurry up? I was planning on using this for my own sex-related purposes.”

She winks at him and turns to exit. Feeling his own skin flush with embarrassment he turns back to Ariadne only to see her blushing. He raises a brow at her and watches, with astonishment as her blush turns a deeper shade of red.

“Guess we were lucky she didn't see your hand...” she mutters, tugging at her scarf with her free hand.

Cobb nods and decides, now would be a good time to look for the key elsewhere- being stuck in a closet was stifling and not to mention already a scene of one too many shameful moments than it had any right to be. He slides open the door and tugging his sleeve over his side of the cuff he all but drags her out the door and into another room to fumble once more for the key.

It takes them the remainder of their time but after many embarrassing fumbles, squeaks (Ariadne had all but screamed when he'd accidentally tripped, sending himself over her body and into the hard floor) and sore muscles (it took them a while to get used to running with handcuffs restricting almost any arm movement) they finally, finally find the key.

“I don't believe this,” Ariadne huffs angrily, “all this time and it was in your damn pocket!”

Cobb nods stiffly, frustration threatening to bubble over and join hers.

“Those two had better have gotten the information because I am not coming back here.”

He lets the key slip the bonds open and bites his lip. Pity, he had rather enjoyed the freshness to the job- as annoying as the predicament had been, it was a nice way to come back to work. However as Ariadne continues to complain and curse Ms Smith's subconscious he notices her hand twitch in his direction. He allows himself a smile just as the dream fades away- he could almost swear she smiles back too.


Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: Shadows of my sorrow
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Arthur, mentions of Arthur/Ariadne and Cobb/Ariadne
Genre(s): Romance, Angst
Prompt: Arthur and Eames were together before but it didn't end well. Eames sees Arthur and Ariadne starting to get closer and gets all angsty and insanely jealous.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1172
Summary: It hurts so much just to watch them, but it's all he does.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: Small spoilers for those who haven't seen the movie.
Note: Holy shit, my first Inception fic and also my first ever kink meme fill (despite lurking on many of them wtf) for this prompt. Enjoy!

Read @ AO3

Read @ DW

---

I can still feel him from where I'm standing.


In some ways he should have seen it coming. The signs were all there. The incessant teasing, the invasion of privacy, the way he stares too much as if he were trying to figure him out and copy his entire being. All those things and more simply pointed in the direction of one possible explanation: Eames was still interested in him.

(But no, that can't be right, he just stares at a lot of people. It's his... “thing” right?)

It's unnerving to catch those eyes steadily watching him, even after they debriefings are over. Arthur is a vain man, and so prides himself on his looks but even he doesn't have the confidence to think he can hold that much attention. So he simply brushes the silly idea (is he flirting?) off.

It's not his problem anymore- he just needs to worry about getting the job done and getting the hell away from him as soon as possible.

*

Love, don't be cruel.

And yet it is. Eames wonders about their past a little too often, wondering if perhaps he should just leave things as they are. Stop staring at him, stop teasing him, stop loving him. But, he can't help it. He knows that in some way he's right. This is his territory and he's certainly not going to let someone else mark it- no matter how cute Ariadne may be. So it's not too much of a stretch when he takes to watching him.

It's the only way he actually gets Arthur to really look at him. Not the annoyed-at-you-and-ignoring-you-for-the-next-ten-minutes look but a real, honest to God, look.

And that of course spurs him to stare even more, to try just a little harder, to step it up a notch on the pet names. It's more than before and yet it still isn't enough and that hurts more than anything. Because he knows that Arthur still looks at him when he thinks he isn't looking. He bites his lips like he's about to say something. And on one memorable occasion (it hurt) he saw him reach out (just say the words, please, I'll come back) only to pull back immediately.

Arthur left the warehouse early that day.

*

It feels so wrong

Yet Arthur kisses Ariadne because it's the best thing he can do right now. He knows that Eames is watching. He knows that this is the wrong path to take but he doesn't care. He needs to take it- just to stop himself from tumbling down Eames' road and tumble into the temptation of-

(Don't be afraid to dream a little bigger darling)

He shakes head and means it when he tells her, “it was worth a shot.”

*

Saw my sorrow with my love

He watches them closely, watches when Arthur makes a point of moving closer to her. He closes his hands into fists, his chip cutting into his skin as he keeps himself from reaching out to pull them apart.

It isn't until Cobb taps him on the shoulder that he realizes he's being talked to.

“You know, Arthur's doing it on purpose right?”

Eames thinks about it for a moment before he nods, “maybe- but what about Ariadne? Is she doing this just to piss me off? Or...” here he raises an eyebrow. “...or is she doing this to piss you off?”

Cobb's glare is answer enough as he storms away but not without a backwards glance at the two's heads huddled close over a blueprint. So Eames returns to glaring daggers at their backs, scaring off anyone who comes near him to so much as say hi.

(It hurts, damn it all, it hurts)

Eames leaves, completely missing the glance Arthur spares him as he makes his exit.

*

I can't make me you

Arthur knows. He tries not to let on how much he knows but he knows. It's his business to know things and differentiate between the good and the bad of knowing said things.

But somehow he feels he has to ignore this detail. It's not his business. It's Ariadne's. Not his. It doesn't hurt him when he notices her looking at Cobb a little too long. It doesn't bother him when she seeks him out just to talk. It doesn't even so much as process in his mind.

Because his mind (doesn't care) refuses to acknowledge this as a bad thing yet it can see it as a good thing either. It's just a simple meeting between a mentor and student. Sort of like the chats he looked for after his first job with Cobb (yeah that's it).

*

Come dance little temptress

She has this sad look in her eyes as she fidgets with her scarf. He ignores her for a full five minutes until her very presence angers him to the point where he'd rather face her just to get rid of her.

“I'm sorry,” she blurts out.

He raises a brow at her and leaning back into the table he crosses his arms (you damn well should be sorry). He waits for her to go on and nods her on encouragingly when her eyes turn pleading.

“I-... I never- I don't want-”

“Arthur?” He supplies icily.

She closes her mouth and nods dumbly before attempting to speak, “He's nice...- sweet and- but I like-”

“Cobb?”

Once more she nods and looks up at him. He sighs and runs a hand over his face- it's taking everything out of him not to grin (I knew it!). So he turns around and picks up his folder again.

“Then do something about it.”

*

You were supposed to be the last goodbye.

When he sees them together it should probably come as a surprise but it isn't. In fact, there's a secret small place inside of him that whispers, It's about time. But the guilty look on her face and her pleading voice (I'm so sorry Arthur) reminds him that his reaction is to be of shock and hurt. He tries to school his features into just that but he just can't.

So he leaves without looking back, trying to ignore the funny feeling in his gut that feels oddly like relief.

“Arthur dear,” Eames' voice floats in through his ears, randomly and he turns to the sound. “You look like you need a drink.”

Arthur looks at him and for a moment, he feels like hitting him- just for the arrogance. But the longing smile on the other's face makes him stop. (does he mean it?)

*

I'd wait forever just to hold you.

Eames heart jumps to his throat and his eyes fill with hope as he sees Arthur walk away from her. He knows it's improper to try now. That he should leave him to grieve over his wayward girl but he can't help it. It isn't in his nature to let a good opportunity pass by.

So he waits as Arthur decides (please, please, please).

And smiles brilliantly when he finally nods.


Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: I was always gonna be yours
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Transformers (movie verse)
Pairing: Leo/Simmons, past Simmons/OMC
Part: 2/2
Genre(s): AU, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lime, Preslash, Romance, Slash
Prompt: 371. Any fandom, any same-sex pairing. "Daytime friends and night time lovers/ They don't wanna hurt the others/ So they love in the nighttime/ And shake hands in the light of day" Two coworkers struggle to hide their relationship in the office, where homophobia abounds.
Rating: R
Word Count: 3206/9608
Summary: Working at Sector Seven had always been hard for Leo. Between ignoring his obsession for aliens, dealing with snarks about his young age, as well as hiding his relationship with Agent Simmons, homophobia was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: Character deaths, crude humor, innuendo, sex.

Read @ AO3

Read @ DW

---

A month before his friends died and five months into training Leo heard a piece of gossip he'd always dismissed as simply that- gossip. It wasn't until he confirmed it that he realized how fucked up things were at Sector Seven. He had thought his co-workers were assholes before but now, he was sure they were nothing but worthless sacks of meat with the luck to have some brains to actually keep the job that he worked so hard at every day.

The story was just so horrible and it enraged him to no end. He wasn't angry that Simmons had had another lover before him- a lover he had been willing to leave Sector Seven for. No, he was angry that Simmons hadn't gone with him.

.

“The story goes something like this,” Maggie explained pouring herself another cup of coffee. “The guy was a new recruit. Older than most of them, fastest hacker than anyone we'd seen before and with looks to boot. When Simmons saw him the first day- I swear my life on this- he was utterly speechless,” she grinned in spite of herself. “To be honest, I was a little taken back too. He was gorgeous. Here,” she got up and took a photo album from her desk. “Let me show you a picture.”

Leo looked at the picture and gaped. The guy really was gorgeous. He was tall, built, brown curls, peeking around his neck, wide brown eyes, and a smile that made even Leo's insides squirm- and it was just an innocent picture of himself sitting in one of the labs.

“Wow,” Leo breathed. “Just wow.”

“I know,” Maggie smirked. “Great looks but apparently that made him a target for the other older agents who were young enough to be immature morons like the idiots you work with.”

“I doubt anyone can be as bad as those assholes,” Leo muttered. “Every single day they never stop talking about how wrong things are and how they should just send a damn fucking robot on the world to rid themselves of people they hate. Not without an orgy first though,” he rolled his eyes. “Fucking idiots.”

“Yeah well, that's tame compared to what this guy had to put up with,” Maggie muttered. “He was always open about his sexuality. It made us girls so frustrated sometimes because he was just so...” she sighed. “Perfect,” she folded her hands over her cup. “He chose Simmons somehow and they did manage to keep it together until word got out that the guy was seeing someone- the committee fired him.”

“Wait, what?” Leo blinked. “But didn't you just say everyone practically knew?”

“Yeah well,” Maggie rolled her eyes. “Thing about bigots is that they figure if they stay in denial- it really isn't true.” Another sigh. “So basically Simmons was ready- so ready to leave. He had his resignation letter ready, his uniform pressed to be handed back in and then from one day to the next the guy disappeared. Simmons was a wreck. No one saw it but me- they all chalked it up to the idea that he was pissed that his best recruit turned out to be a poof.”

“What happened to him?”

“Who?”

“Who else, the guy!”

“Oh,” Maggie shook her head. “Well I heard Simmons found him but...”

“But?”

“Well,” Maggie shrugged. “I don't know- Simmons was fine the next day. He had gotten over it or something. Moved on. I'm not sure, I never asked him.”

Leo was quiet for a moment as he eyed the picture and looked through the rest, seeing a couple more of the man with Simmons at his side or with Maggie hanging onto his arm.

“Hey, you never told me his name.”

“His name was Jonathon.”

*

Leo shifted in his seat and listened carefully, closing his eyes to focus just as Maggie has advised him. He knew that across the room she was probably doing the same. It had been a hectic week of activity. First the disaster in Shanghai, now the robbing of the AllSpark sliver. And still not only was N.E.S.T in the dark but they were as well (not that N.E.S.T knew they were trying to figure anything out- they were still undercover, private, and working pretty damn hard to keep it that way), wondering how the hell had those Decepticons found out about Megatron's location.

He screwed his eyes shut even tighter- the only way they could find out was if they'd been right there or if they'd bugged the entire world and the only way to do that was by way of sate- and suddenly he stopped. Wait a second... Considering the level of technology those bastards had, he wouldn't put it past them.

He pulled a terminal and began to type as fast as possible. He pulled up a list of likely suspects and chose one at random. If he could just get a little peek then he'd be able to see if-

Oh fuck.

The satellite. He- it- shit.

He swallowed hard and stood up, “a Decepticon has infiltrated our satellite.”

*

Leo didn't quite know what to do after he and Simmons had sex. Especially not after he remembered this little piece of gossip when he woke up the next day. He knew had sort of wanted Simmons before this. Okay maybe more than sort of.

But it wasn't because the man was drop dead gorgeous or anything- no he was average and pretty much still a bit of an asshole. Yet he was his mentor. He was his friend. His only one now. Even before when his friends had been living with Powers, Simmons was still the only one who could pull him through any bad day.

His friends hadn't understood some of his obsessions and although they shared a passion for aliens and anything to do with them, it wasn't to the same level. Simmons was the only one who could be up to his level of craze for aliens.

Although Simmons teased him and called him a kid from time to time, he was to put it simply, his equal. So why was he hesitating right now? Why was he so...-?

Simmons nudged him in the ribs now, “you're thinking too loud.”

Leo frowned and sat up. He eyed the man sleeping on his side, waiting for those eyes to open and look at him.

“I was just...” Leo bit his lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“I believe you just did, but go ahead and ask me another,” Simmons muttered. “Still too tired to say no.”

“What happened to Jonathon?” Leo felt his companion stiffen beside him in bed and he quickly began to explain, “I heard the rumors about him from the older agents and then Maggie told me what really happened but... she didn't know what happened afterwards... when he left. And I... well...”

Simmons nodded and ran a hand over his face, “Figures, that woman can't keep her mouth shut. Well turns out he lives in Brazil now, found himself a new boyfriend, and got married, even works for their government.”

Leo stared, “you mean... he just forgot about you?”

Simmons turned on his back and away from his questioning gaze, “he never really... did care much, I guess. Said he loved me and then he left. Can't call that love- so he must have just never cared.”

Leo frowned, “well he's an idiot. He may have looks and brains but apparently not enough to have just forgotten someone as good as you.”

“So you're saying I'm a better catch than he was?” Simmon's eyebrows were raised and the teasing tone in his voice was enough to make heat pool in Leo's cheeks.

“...I'm just saying he was an idiot for forgetting you in the first place,” he didn't look up as and kept his eyes trained carefully on the sheets in front of him. “You deserve better than that.”

A hand reached up to grip his chin and Leo allowed his gaze to follow the movement as Simmons tipped it down towards him. The smile on the older agent's face made his heart skip a beat and for a moment all he could do was stare.

Then tentatively, he smiled back.

.

Leo knew things would be tricky. He knew if word got out that he was seeing someone, they'd eventually start to ask just who the lucky girl was. And if word got out that it wasn't a girl but a guy who happened to be his superior- then he was fucked. God, he was practically sleeping with his boss seeing as how Simmons was definitely higher in rank than he was.

He didn't know how they managed it those first few months. It was so hard not to melt into every touch Simmons briefly gave him- whether it was a pat, a slight squeeze of the shoulders or a simply stare. The older agent was simply a bad influence on him. No matter how hard he tried, that damned man always managed to get under his skin and wind him up.

What he didn't know however was that he had the same effect on Simmons as well. How was he supposed to know that a simple act of biting his lips and sticking a pen in his mouth would cause any sort of reaction? So when Simmons dragged him off to a private office to fuck him into a desk, the first time around, he made sure to stick a pen in his mouth at every available opportunity. It was dangerous, sure, but he couldn't help it, and neither could Simmons.

Those first few months were the best of his life. He finally managed to ignore the assholes who he worked with. He managed to ignore the snarks about his age. And he even managed to keep his relationship a secret amid all this.

For a while at least.

*

Leo shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Of all the shit that had been going on this week, a second alien attack was not what he needed right now. Three night-shifts in a fucking row and he still had to get up for his regular shifts in the mornings. He had only slept two hours last night. Two!

And that was only because he had finally, finally gotten a call from Simmons telling him he and Sam were heading to D.C and he was expecting him to be there to help with a break-in.

“The Smithsonian Simmons?” Leo echoed. “Really? What do you want us to loot out the White House afterwards because you know, their security must be a lot less than the Air and Space-”

“Kid, kid, kid, kid, kid, kid you compromise this mission? You are dead to me!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I heard you,” he rolled his eyes despite knowing the other wouldn't see it. “I'll be on the next flight out of here. Just call up Powers and Tom to let them know I'm the one you wanted.”

Powers had been furious when Simmons was assigned the job of protecting the kid but he had been even more infuriated by the fact that instead of calling for back-up from the Security department he'd asked specifically for him, “the pipsqueak newbie recruit.”

Leo leaned back into the plane's seat and tried to get some sleep. At least he could rest easy in knowing he'd be seeing his boyfriend in about an hour. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut that something bad was going to happen.

.

“So have you told him, you love him yet?” Mikaela asked.

Leo sputtered and turned around to face the girl, blushing a bright red, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh don't lie,” she replied. “I've seen the looks you've given him when you think no one's looking. And I've also heard the noises he makes when you-”

“What's your point?” Leo cut in.

Mikaela gave him a kind smile as they watched the men across the room, “you know what the Decepticons are capable of... you can't tell me you aren't at least the tiniest bit scared that those two will lose their heads and take on more than they can handle.” Leo looked away from her knowing gaze. “C'mon Leo, why haven't you?”

“Because, it has to be perfect,” Leo replied quietly. “...I don't want him to think I don't mean it. I have to say it at the right time and-”

“You're so cute,” Mikaela whispered shaking her head. “But seriously just stop worrying and tell him- everyone else who's seen you two work together already knows.”

.

Leo growled angrily as Simmons ran off, leaving him alone to deal with the injured soldiers in the helicopter. Of all the arrogant and stupid things he'd seen and heard today, Simmons' stunt had to be the worst ever. He clenched his fists and stared up at the twins, daring them to say anything.

They looked away, whistling innocently to themselves.

“What the hell are you doing standing here?” Leo barked. “Go with the others by the pillars and help Sam!”

Apparently his rough demeanor and harsh tone was enough to get the two Autobots moving. He nodded as he watched them leave before settling down to wait for the other agent to return from being a hero.

Carajo, este idiota se va matar.⁶

.

Leo ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. And finally, there, there he was walking towards him, dirty, slightly hunched over but victorious. Ignoring the grin on the other's face he raised his arm and punched him as hard as he could.

“You! You- You idiot!” He hissed, towering over the other agent. “Don't you dare ever, ever do that again!”

Simmons smiled up at him, rubbing his jaw, “nice to see you too kid.”

His anger deflated now. He couldn't help it. Simmons was there, on the ground, still smiling.

“Oh God,” Leo felt himself crumple and fall to the ground beside him. He reached out and dug his fingers in the other's warm leather jacket. Burying his head in his shoulder he released a sob, “I thought... fuck I thought-”

“Shhh,” Simmons' hands came up to wrap around him and he felt the sudden thoughts of he'salivehe'salivehe'snotdeadalivealive crashing together and choke up inside him. “I know. I'm here.”

.

Now that N.E.S.T knew they were still around things began to change. Amid the quick cover-ups and hurried debriefing Sector Seven received a major make-over. Although they were still apart from the government, and privately funded the military organization was now relying them more heavily on information they didn't have. Such as data from the experiments they had managed to preform on the AllSpark before all the slivers were gone, a few leading theories on the remaining transformers living in disguise on Earth, and a foolproof agency dedicated to the sole purpose of research without taking any part in protecting Earth from potential threats. That, they were to hand over to N.E.S.T.

It was between the debriefs and training of new recruits that Leo was summoned before the committee.

“You're dismissed,” Powers growled.

Leo didn't even ask why. He simply nodded and turned away. He knew exactly why he had been fired and to be honest he didn't give a damn. He had noticed the way his co-workers had thrown him and Simmons dirty looks whenever they were discussing a new rotation of shifts or a future experiment. It was no secret to anyone now. He was done. He was so fucking done with the hiding.

When it came down to it however he did wonder how he had become so careless as to not realize they weren't alone on the plane back to headquarters. Sam had been there, Mikaela, Lennox, a couple of other soldiers and one sole Sector Seven agent that had unfortunately been the one to find them kissing in the bathroom.

“You are so dead Leo,” Perkins had whispered, clenching his beret at his side, so tightly, Leo could see the whites of knuckles. “So fucking dead.”

Leo had looked at him levelly and leaned in to lick Simmons' ear, watching with cynical amusement as the agent had turned tail and ran.

He supposed, it was bound to happen sooner or later. He just wondered what taken them so long.

About an hour after he got home, Simmons stormed into the apartment, yanking him up from the sofa, “get into your uniform, we're going to call in a favor. Right fucking now.”

“What are you-?” Leo began but was abruptly cut off as the man glared at him. He raised his hands defensively, “all right, all right- no questions.”

He did as he was told and pretty soon they were speeding down the road in the direction of where he knew the N.E.S.T headquarters lay. He hoped Simmons knew what he was doing.

With Simmons' hand on his knee though, somehow, he knew everything was gonna be okay.

.

It didn't take long to figure it out what favor Simmons was talking about. In fact Sam and Mikaela were the ones who told him the news before Simmons got a chance.

“What do you mean he's the official liaison between Sector Seven and N.E.S.T? When did this happen?” Leo blinked.

“Just now,” Sam replied with a smile, “Lennox and Tom both agreed to it and since they're both very important to their own organizations now all that needs to be done is for him to sign the papers.”

“He'll still be working for Sector Seven then?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, but now he gets to have an office here. And guess just who he's naming his personal assistant?”

Leo gaped in amazement, “no.”

“Who else was I going to chose?” Simmons's voice snorted from behind him. “The rest of those idiots are just not worth my presence anymore.”

Leo turned around to see him and smiled, “so... does this mean I don't have the opportunity to run off to Brazil to meet a nice young boy my age to marry?”

“Not a chance,” Simmons murmured grinning down at him.

.

It was later when they were finally in bed, almost half asleep in the afterglow of their rough lovemaking that Leo said it.

“I love you,” he whispered fiercely, kissing the brim of the other's nose. “But if you ever, ever, ever decide to make a meal again, please, please, please don't. Jesus, just wait till I get home or call Maggie to help you.”

Simmons' laugh rumbled beneath his ear and he smiled when the agent answered, “love you too kid.”


⁶ Spanish for "Hell, this guy is going to get himself killed."


Part One


Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: I was always gonna be yours
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Transformers (movie verse)
Pairing: Leo/Simmons, past Simmons/OMC
Part: 1/2
Genre(s): AU, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lime, Preslash, Romance, Slash
Prompt: 371. Any fandom, any same-sex pairing. "Daytime friends and night time lovers/ They don't wanna hurt the others/ So they love in the nighttime/ And shake hands in the light of day" Two coworkers struggle to hide their relationship in the office, where homophobia abounds.
Rating: R
Word Count: 6402/9608
Summary: Working at Sector Seven had always been hard for Leo. Between ignoring his obsession for aliens, dealing with snarks about his young age, as well as hiding his relationship with Agent Simmons, homophobia was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: Character deaths, crude humor, innuendo, sex.
Note: Written for the lgbtfest. Gosh this fic took away my life, I've been thinking, writing and rewriting for at least three weeks. It's still got some editing to do but mostly spelling/html which I can deal with tomorrow when I'm not so sleep deprived.
Okay I just thought I'd explain, this is practically a fanfic to my own fanfic new sector 7-verse but it is more of an AU of the movieverse (I borrow some characters from the Sector Seven ARG since their characters were so tempting not to). Also just in case you're wondering this first part doesn't address the prompt directly but the second part does quite heavily. Enjoy~

Read @ AO3

Read @ DW

---

Leo rubbed his temples angrily as he listened to the frequencies again. Stupid, stupid, stupid agent Powers who was batshit insane and delirious. So delirious if actually he thought there was something out there. Two weeks of silence and he still wasn't convinced? Carajo¹, this guy sure was optimistic or, as he'd already said, completely loco².

He slipped the headphones off with a tired sigh. Closing his eyes he leaned back. Night-shifts always ended up like this. Alone in the office, listening to nothing but silence. Powers would push and push and push and all Leo could do was let him. As a subordinate he had to follow his superior's orders to the letter so that meant doing everything he was told even if the orders were useless, illogical and most all-

“Spitz!”

Shit!

Leo snapped to attention, eyes flying open and sweat collecting at his brow as he fought down an angry blush. Shit, he shouldn't have fallen asleep like that! If it was agent Powers then he'd be facing the night shift for a month– a month of torture! He'd be lucky if it was lieutenant-

“At ease, kid.”

At hearing the voice a second time, Leo sighed in relief and sagged back into his chair. It was him, thank God. He heard, rather than saw the man walk around the desk to face him. He looked up at him with a grateful smile.

“Simmons.”

“Spitz.”

The agent was wearing his customary Sector Seven uniform, complete with sunglasses (inside the low-lit room of all places), dark fingerless gloves, and that silly beret with the Sector Seven insignia. Leo would laugh but at the moment all he could do was nod. Agent Simmons had saved his ass on more than one occasion and for that he was grateful. He was probably one of the few agents who wouldn't mess with him like the others did.

The agent lifted a hand to slip off his shades and leaned his hip into the desk. Suddenly he swallowed. Oh God... Of course this agent was also the one who knew exactly how to mess with him. Not the smirk. Not the smirk. Not the smirk. Not the- oh...

Simmons' lips quirked at one end and an eyebrow shot upward. A sole finger moved along those lips leaving a suggestive trail in its wake. Leo flushed darkly, averting his eyes. Of all places Reggie...

“So what has the resident prodigy been ordered to do tonight? Following up on the Cali incident? Or perhaps he's been overseeing the new simulation the Autobots are testing for holographic forms?” Simmons grinned, “or better yet he's been asked to study the structure of the new Decepticon that landed in our lap two hours ago?”

“You fucker,” Leo whispered in awe. “You did all that? Today?”

Simmons shrugged but a smug smile remained in place, “can't say. Classified you know.”

Leo shook his head helplessly trying not to grin. Classified, yeah okay. He knew this game.

He turned back to the computers and picked up the headphones, ready to resume his duties (he couldn't have his superiors walk in to see him slacking off just because another agent had walked in and-)

“Wait,” Simmons hand came to stop his. “You okay kid? You look like you haven't slept in days.”

Leo resisted the urge to swat the hand away, “of course I'm fine.”

“Powers pushing you to take the night shifts again?”

“Yeah.”

“You could always refuse.”

Leo snorted and shook his head, “so that way he can fire my ass? Nah.”

“You need your sleep kid.”

“Nothing I can do about that,” Leo muttered.

Simmons nodded and turned away as Leo's eyes moved back to the screen and began scanning.

*

It must have been what? a year now? that he'd been working at Sector Seven? To be honest, he wasn't very sure when he started working for them- all he knew was that sometime between first launching TheRealEffingDeal and meeting up with a hardware techie (Glen) he realized he was being watched. It wasn't hard to miss, considering how many times their firewalls and servers went down whilst uploading new videos. There were only so many times a server could fail. So he had Glen come over and work his magic. He knew how to hack into anything undetected.

Yet he failed Leo. Oh, getting in hadn't been the problem- he got in all right- it was when he found out who it was that he refused to go further.

.

“No...way,” Glen muttered.

“What? What is it? Did my baby get some kind of virus? I told you not to disable the-”

Glen closed the terminal and watched the screen go black. Leo stared for a full five seconds before he exploded.

“What are you doing?!” He hissed angrily. “You're supposed to be telling me who-!”

“Leo, listen to me you don't mess with these people,” Glen raised a finger at him, adjusting his glasses. “I mean it, just drop the whole thing-”

“Man, what are you talking-?”

“Leo, listen!” Glen raised his voice. “Get a new hobby like kitten calendars or some shit like that. Forget the whole thing- it isn't worth it.”

“I don't-”

The hardware technician shook his head and scooped his bag up, “I mean it. There's no way to stop them from messing with you unless you stop messing with them- they mean business.”

Leo glared as he watched him go.

.

So what had he done?

He'd worked that much harder and messed with them- he set up codes, blocked their way in and hacked his way in. He'd found a lot of shit for five glorious minutes- that's when they had cut the feed.

He should have realized fucking with them would lead to problems.

.

“I'm Maggie Madsen,” she smiled at him. “Agent at Sector Seven.”

“Sector what?”

“Sector-”

“You're saying it wrong. Again. Really, it's supposed to go like this, show the badge, say 'we're in the government, sector seven' he'll say 'never heard of it' and you'll respond, 'never will.' Is that so hard to remember Madsen?” A voice floated from behind her.

The blonde rolled her eyes and turned just as Leo craned his head over her shoulder to look. A man was walking up to his apartment, clad in a black suit and red tie. He slipped off a pair of sunglasses and put them into his jacket. He raised a brow and a badge.

“Is that even accurate to say?” she asked, batting his badge away. “I mean we don't officially unofficially exist in the government at all anymore.”

“Doesn't matter,” the man replied curtly. “You're still supposed to say it.”

“Ohh... kay?” Leo swallowed a little nervously, waving behind the closed door to his associates. He heard fumbles and scrambles in the room behind him. “Well, look since I see no search warr-”

The blonde smiled apologetically as the man behind her raised a paper to his face, “sorry Spitz, Simmons here isn't going to let me go home till we get in and do our job.”

“So kindly remove your foot from the door and allow us into your apartment before I knock the damn door down,” Simmons huffed.

Leo pursed his lips, “if you knock the door down, you bring harm to me and I can get you for assault on a civilian.”

Simmons raised a brow at him, “kid knows how to threaten with the law- I like that. Good trait for any aspiring agent.”

“Oh shut up Simmons, not all of us want to be an ass-”

“Anyway!” Simmons cut her off short. “I won't need to break into the apartment if you kindly allow us inside. Really, we're just here to talk.”

“I call bullshit,” Leo narrowed his eyes. “I've heard that line way too many times to take it seriously.”

The agent gave an exasperated sigh and between one second and the next he heaved his weight into the door, pushing it open. Leo attempted to hold his ground but the first push was too fast for him and by the second he was knocked to the floor of the room with a yelp.

“Nice digs.” Simmons commented, stepping over him easily. “Oi Sharsky, Fassbinder give it up, we've got copies of everything already.”

The other two guys stared over at him, still busy in their attempts to wipe out everything, but waiting for his orders. Leo simply sighed, waving a hand for them to stop- it was useless to keep up now that the "agents" had gotten in. He stood to face them and crossed his arms over his chest defensively, glaring at them both.

“So you're the ones who've been hacking into my site?”

“Someone's gotta keep the information from the public,” Simmons muttered. “They aren't ready for what you're trying to feed them kid.”

“Kid?!” Leo fumed. “Listen gramps just because I look like I'm fifteen doesn't mean I am. I'm-”

“-still underage,” the man scoffed, peering over the CDs stacked on the table. “Huh, ACDC, at least the kid's got some taste. Can't say same for the posters though.”

“Look I don't know who you are but-”

Maggie sighed and stretched her hand out to him. Pausing only for a moment, he shook it (his mother would kill him if she found out he had ignored another person's courtesy), still glaring in the direction of her companion (yet she'd probably be yelling at the pendejo³ currently looking through his stuff). She extended her hand to the other two and smiled at them, as she introduced herself again, “Maggie Madsen- agent at Sector Seven.”

“What's Sector Seven?” Sharsky asked.

“Sector Seven is private agency that deals with extraterrestrial technology and threats. It's primary focus how-”

“Wait, wait, wait hold up. Did you say extraterrestrial?” Leo's eyes went wide, anger momentarily forgotten. “You mean aliens right?”

“I take back what I said,” Simmons muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This kid is a rank amateur. Amateurs never make good agent material. Training probably wouldn't do a thing to help ei-”

“Training?” Fassbinder cut in. “Hold up, training for what?”

Maggie smiled at them all and shook her head, “well, let's just say you guys are about to get the ride of your lives.”

*

Leo yawned as he turned the key in the doorknob. Opening the door he dropped the keys on the parlor table and toed off his shoes. Stifling another yawn he closed the door and gasped as a person grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall.

“Took ya long enough,” a low voice hissed in his ear.

He chuckled a little at that, “well it's your fault. You distracted me-”

“For the rest of your shift?” A tongue made its way down his jaw. “Damn, I must be good if ten minutes of my presence was enough to knock you off.”

Leo rolled his eyes, and shuddered under the mouth latched onto his neck, sucking, “A-arrogant bastard.”

“You love it.”

Oh God help him, he did.

*

Leo sat at the desk, waiting for the agent to come in. He twiddled his thumbs as his two friends spoke in low tones. He wasn't sure what they were doing here exactly but Simmons had promised him an explanation sometime around 1700.

“Seventeen hundred?” Maggie had rolled her eyes. “Really Simmons? We're not in the government anymore- can you please just stick to the regular way of telling time? At least for their sake of these bo-”

“The newbies' sake?” Simmons had laughed. “They're going to get training and that's the first thing that'll be hitting them in the face- military time.”

Leo rolled his eyes. Really, he hadn't even known the guy properly yet but already he was sure of just how much of an asshole he was. The guy even looked the part- with that expensive looking suit of his, his arrogant know-it-all way of speaking to him, but not really even looking at him. It was just so irritating!

Suddenly a door opened and (speak of the devil) in walked agent Simmons and another man. The former had changed his suit for a new black uniform that looked like it was jipped off of the military uniform except for a few modifications. Instead of any blend of camouflage his outfit was completely black with the insignia of the badge he had seen earlier. The man by his side was instead wearing a pristine black suit and held a briefcase at his side. Simmons moved away from the light, choosing a nice secluded corner to brood in as the other nodded at them and closed the door behind him.

“Good afternoon gentlemen. I'm Tom Banachek. I'm one of the directors of this division,” he opened the briefcase and slid out a sleek Macbook. “Now, as Simmons may or may not have told you we're a private agency that monitors extraterrestrial activity. However, for the past year we've also been monitoring you three,” he turned the laptop around to face them, showing them a window of their website as well as another of-

“Oh shit,” Leo flushed and looked away. “So you mean to tell me, you've um... got everything?”

“Copies, receipts, originals,” Simmons grinned from his corner, “everything kid.”

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, “um...”

“I don't mean to put you on the spot son,” Tom offered kindly. “I am merely showing you the capabilities of our own personnel here at Sector Seven. They're quite well at what they do.”

“I can see that,” Leo muttered, refusing to look his friends in the eye who were likewise looking away as well.

“I have a question,” Sharsky began, “if this agency is to monitor aliens and all that- why is it so small? If you guys really are what you say you are then shouldn't you be government funded?”

“Our agency is not as large as it should be, yes but there's an explanation for that,” Tom replied. “We were terminated from the government, more than a year ago when... well when things in L.A went wrong.”

“L.A!” Fassbinder exclaimed, “dude I was there! The robots and stuff? They trashed that place.”

“Yes, well the events in Mission City weren't exactly favorable towards us and eventually we were shut down for... our mistakes,” Tom sighed. “However, the committee came together to save the agency. They shared the belief that the division should continue and so it has. We have downsized a great deal since then and have lost a number of our personnel due to budget cuts,” he eyed the three of them levelly. “Boys, I'll get straight to the point. Each of you have showed extreme passion in your website and your hacking into our system has given the directors plenty to worry about. You have their admiration and their anger.”

Leo gulped. So this was the place they hacked into a couple of months ago. He had recognized a couple of things- but he hadn't been sure. Raising his eyes to glance at the agent in the corner he found those dark eyes narrowed in his direction. His eyes swerved back to center, as he tried valiantly not to blush. Somehow he still felt those eyes on him.

“What we're offering you three is six months worth of training, a job in something you're passionate for and a-”

“-piss poor salary,” Simmons cut in. “Tom's sugar-coating this shit for you. This job we're offering you is going to take away your entire life if you say yes. Little to no money, shitty hours and not to mention the possibility of dying.”

“Simmons,” Tom began warningly. “We're recruiting- not trying to scare them away.”

Simmons grumbled, crossed his arms again, and returned to his brooding corner. Leo watched him for a moment, caught up in the agent's anger- there was an odd glint in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders was radiating off him in giant waves of “don't fuck with me” looks.

Still, he could tell the guy was pretty obsessed with the job. He certainly wasn't pissed with the salary. And to be honest Leo wouldn't be either- if this meant aliens then hell yes he was in. He glanced back at his friends and he confirmed their decisions as well.

“We're in.”

.

Training actually turned out to be pretty fun. Leo still remembered those days fondly- months on end in which he and his friends practiced hacking into different types of programs, bypassing firewalls, fixing and rewiring computers to use for Morse code transmissions (they weren't entirely sure why they did this but Simmons was really anal about it and Leo loved to do it wrong on purpose, just to see him get all riled up- it was amusing sometimes). It was all amusing and fun and they even got a couple hours of training in shooting. Sure it wasn't a lot but they got to learn all the necessary tactics. They learned how to hold guns, aim and shoot them.

They were required to train in the gym and there they'd shit around with the trainers who were actually agents a couple years older than them. It was fun. It really was.

Until they forgot about calling into work for sick days. Until they forgot to pay the rent. Once. Twice. Four-five times. Until they forgot to go to work. Until their savings started to cave in on them. Until they found themselves out on the street one day, the landowner having evicted them from their apartment.

That's when the fun, simpler, and easier times in their lives just stopped.

.

“Let me get this straight,” Maggie held up a hand to stop his babbling. “You three have gotten kicked out of your apartment because you haven't paid how many months of rent?”

Leo lifted up his hand and extended his fingers, wincing at the Australian girl's glare, “look we may or may not have gotten a little carried away with the training program... and then our boss didn't like the idea of us forgetting about work so he fired us.”

Maggie shook her head and opened the door to her apartment, “Fine get in.” Leo let out a whoop of laughter as he and his companions rushed inside. “But! Tomorrow you three are talking to Simmons about this.”

Leo groaned as the door closed behind them with an audible click. Fassbinder and Sharsky snickered at him. Of course, they'd find this amusing, seeing as how they weren't the ones who were always pestered by the damn agent all the damn freaking time.

He pouted as pathetically as he could, turning to face the girl, “c'mon Maggie- you can't possibly expect him to help us! He hates my guts!”

Maggie smirked, “I think you're wrong there. Simmons is very taken with you.”

Leo blinked at her and laughed outright. Who was Maggie kidding? Simmons hated him.

*

Leo sighed and rubbed his eyes looking over at the clock on his bedside table. He had to get up to buy some groceries now. If he didn't-

“Stay,” Simmons' arm around his waist tightened as he moved to get up.

“Let go,” Leo muttered. “One of us has to go buy eggs and milk since you sure as hell aren't going to do it, you lazy ass-”

Simmons hand came up to clamp around his mouth and with a muffled squeak Leo realized that something was poking at his thigh. He blushed. He did not need this right now. He had to go buy food. But apparently Simmons had other intentions for him that morning.

Not that he was complaining. By all means he was more than fine with these ideas.

*

He eventually did talk to Simmons. You know after hearing three lectures from Maggie and a half hour of pleading from his friends to just suck it up and tell him! He did... about a month after moving in with Maggie.

“You three... lost your jobs?” Simmons repeated.

“Yeah, you see-” Leo began but he was abruptly cut off:

“-a month ago!” Simmons ran a hand through his hair. “A month ago, kid and you're telling me this now? What? Haven't you spent enough time with me to know I don't like being the last to know? Haven't you learned that despite the shitty money we're trickling down your way the heads might care that their bright new recruits are now homeless?”

Leo winced and looked away, trying to force down the embarrassed flush rising up to meet his Adam's apple. Well, when he put it that way...

“Maggie took us in and we thought we'd land a job soon enough anyway and-”

Simmons lifted up a hand and Leo knew wisely to shut up. After a few more minutes of berating and ten minutes of silent pacing on the older agent's part the man looked up and fixed him with a look.

“I can probably get an agent of mine to take your friends in for a couple of weeks but that still leaves you homeless,” Simmons sighed. “I suppose since I've got no better alternative- you can move into the spare room at my apartment-” Leo's face lit up “-with one condition! If you're going to order gay porn again, please invite me along for the show.”

Leo blushed furiously, trying to glare but failing to meet the agent's eyes, “Mierda que-⁴” he cut himself off before rambling off in Spanish again. “I already told you that was a mistake!”

“Uh-huh,” Simmons smirked. “Seventeen orders and three hundred illegal downloads are obviously mistakes- I'm sorry for making such a huge mistake on my part.”

.

At first he thought he'd gotten the worse end of the deal but later on, Leo realized that he had in fact gotten off much better than his friends had. As it turned out Fassbinder and Sharsky were taken in by the Head of Security Agent Powers. A complete and total asshole who thought himself such a big-shot since he had under his orders three buff idiots who were only called in when an experiment went wrong.

He had them waking up at five in the morning for a run, made them go on a special diet and even started giving them special training. Meanwhile Leo's time in Simmons apartment went by in the same fashion as it had in his old apartment. He'd get up around eight, get a quick breakfast and head into the training facilities underneath the Sector Seven building where he'd find Simmons already waiting for the three of them. Sometimes he'd get up with Simmons and they'd eat together and head in to work- occasionally starting up conversations about Star Trek and Star Wars.

“Star Trek,” Leo replied stubbornly, “is not a kid's show.”

“Please, it's all for you kiddies.”

“How can you even say that when there was so much damn flirting and man-whoring from Kirk?!”

But of course, seeing as how this was Simmons he was living with, the occasional teasing and innuendo ran high between them. To be honest however, it was father fun.

“What took you so long?” Simmons grumbled, pushing past him on his way into the bathroom. “Got another magazine this week?”

Leo had sputtered the first time but come the third time he was coming up with comebacks instead of blushing like a teenager.

“Nah, I was just wanking off to a picture of Powers.”

“Oh God kid, that is not something I needed to hear.”

“What? Would you prefer if I got a picture of you?” Leo laughed outright as the older agent paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Now there's an idea- I'd say you'd have spectacular tastes then. Till I see it though you're still a sick twisted fuck.”

It was how Leo spent his last month of training before he and his friends were finally debriefed on the entirety of the operations at Sector Seven. They were finally finally named official agents at Sector Seven. Things looked promising and with a full-time job in Sector Seven, they expected things to be a piece of cake. Except... they weren't.

.

Leo flushed as he listened to the conversation going on above his head. He was going to kill someone soon if they didn't shut the fuck up. Stupid bigots and their stupid close-minded fucking minds. Of all the assholes he'd met in Sector Seven these were in fact the fucking worst.

“Man, I saw some girls walking by, holding hands!” one of them- agent Sullivan- threw up his own hands. “Fucking dykes don't know what they're missing.”

“Oh you mean those two hot chicks by the Starkbucks?” another asked- Perkins, Leo's mind supplied helpfully. “Dude, I asked them for a threesome and they just flipped me off.”

“You idiot,” Sullivan replied. “You don't go asking them like that! You gotta take it slow- pretend you take it up the ass or something and then they'll-”

Leo slammed his headphones on his head refusing to hear another word any longer. Fucking assholes. But of course, oh no, that wasn't the end of it. There had to be more. Of course.

“And did you see the fags who met up with them later on?” Sullivan made a face. “Honestly what the fuck is up with that? God created so many hot chicks why in the hell would these idiots think it's all right to choose a guy over them?”

“I know! And what's even worse, one of them was a total girl. Fucking wearing high heels, make-up and my fucking God-”

“If I hear one more word out of your mouths I will make sure you both land night shift for a month,” a voice behind them boomed coldly.

Leo was about to shoot the agent a grateful smile when he realized just exactly who it was. His heart sank a little as he flicked his eyes back to the screen before him. Of all the assholes to shut these assholes up- it had to be him. Of course.

“You boys have more important shit to be doing and I'm sure that discussing the crap state of our country isn't going to get you a paycheck by the end of the week,” Powers muttered.

As as the agent left however, the older men went right back to their earlier conversation.

.

To be fair, Leo had put up with worse shit than this but that had been before he'd known he was bisexual. He'd never participated in the discussions and that had been mostly because he'd felt uncomfortable in how vehement people were against a people who were simply... living. He'd had countless of debates about it with his closer friends and even a few girls (the ones who were nerds at least) about how stupid it was of people to get so riled about something like that.

He always thought people were people- albeit people who still sucked on the media's sac but people nonetheless. So when he got curious he decided what the hell, he might as well look it up. Five pages and different wiki links later he found himself with two pressing problems. One, his pants were too tight. Two, he had to find more gay porno sites.

That had been when he turned fourteen. It was right before his unrequited crush on his best friend, Kyle and his drunken hand jobs at tech camp with Esteban. That had been damn, four years ago.

And that was another issue. His age. Fassbinder and Sharsky were fine- they were eighteen too but were living with agent fucking Powers. Surprisingly enough, after a month of having the two under his house, Powers had become something of a mentor to them. What was more shocking however, was how they still managed to be the nicest guys that surrounded the power-hungry agent.

“How do you do it?” Maggie had asked the two of them. “He's the worst.”

Fassbinder shrugged, “reminds me of my old man to be honest.”

“He's also pretty paranoid,” Sharsky nodded sipping at his iced coffee. “We have a pretty hard time trying not to laugh all the time.”

“You're lucky he looks after you guys,” Leo muttered bitterly. “I've got him breathing down my neck all freaking day. He seems to hate me.”

“Nah, he doesn't,” Maggie smiled. “He's like this with everyone. Even Simmons.”

.

Still, that left Leo alone to deal with the pokes at his “immaturity,” his “smallness,” his-

“Oh Leonardo~ooh!”

Leo gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on the numbers in front of him- he had to reinforce the codes today otherwise Tom would be disappointed in him and that was worse than getting a tongue lashing from Powers-

“Hey kid!”

Leo sighed and turned around, “Yes... sir?”

It wasn't fair. Really it wasn't. All of them were nerds here and just because he was a couple years younger than them didn't mean-

“So you heading to that Star Trek convention for the new movie that's coming out?”

Leo stifled a groan as he returned to his computer, trying to ignore the continued questions of his colleagues. It was so stupid. So stupid. He was eighteen. Eighteen! And they acted like seventeen year olds. Roughhousing, making lewd comments about everything because obviously they couldn't get any so they took to watching porn during work hours- mierda⁵, the amount of times he walked in on one of them going at it in the rec room made Leo look like a saint.

And that was saying something.

.

In retrospect he was happy that the whole mess had come out to this. He had a job he loved. Met new people every day and eventually got to meet the great great grandson of the guy who found the N.B.E. 1 and his hot (“criminal” Simmons had muttered to him) girlfriend. It was an exciting place to work and all, but at times, he really, really hated ever falling into it.

Accidents happened. Just like in any workplace, falls occurred, minor injuries involving experiments and even a few mysterious disappearances no one ever commented on. However Leo always took care to brush them off- they never felt too close to him and as far as he was concerned it didn't mean much to him hearing about it. He knew the signs of when another agent was going to break the news but as far as he was concerned these accidents were far away from him and his friends.

But he was so wrong.

*

When Simmons came in, eyes downcast, jaw clenched and beret in his hands, Leo already knew. He swallowed and fisted his headphones in his hands. He watched as the agent sat before him, fidgeting.

“How?” was the only question he could spit out.

“The experiment on the AllSpark sliver went wrong. Locked themselves in and no one could get in.”

“No one?” Leo's head snapped up.

“Your friends were gifted hackers Spitz, none of our override codes worked,” Simmons' voice grew quiet. “Tried to talk sense into letting the security team in to handle it but... dammit, those kids refused. Said...-” he ran a hand over his face, “...said that if they opened the doors, we would have no chance at shutting them down.”

Leo stared down at his hands, numbly. He couldn't fucking believe it. Sharsky... Fassbinder... Just...-

“Left you something though,” Simmons dropped an SD card in front of him, “figured you'd want to be the first to see it so the heads don't know about this. You might want to keep it that way.”

The young boy nodded, face twisting in pain as a hand landed on his shoulder and patted him. A brief clench of fingers and then it was gone, pressure fading with each retreating step.

.

It took him an hour before he could move again. And then it was only to drop his headphones on the the table and pick up the memory card. He moved it between his fingers, feeling the ridges and tracing the small letters. Within another half hour he moved to get his personal laptop. Another half hour before he plucked up the will to boot it up. He was trembling and biting his nails as he slid the SD card in and waited for the window to pop up. There were a bunch of files and folders and sub-folders he recognized as dummies to be looked through for later but now all he saw was the folder with the initials “FTJ.”

Leo couldn't help it, the lump in his throat grew and stifled his breathing as he clicked on it. A video was the sole item in the folder and it took all of his willpower to finally open it.

Sharsky's face swam into view, amid crashes of light and sounds of bullets. He drew in a sharp breath- he had been there. Just this morning. Oh God...

“Hey Leo, look man I-” the young man ducked as sparks began to fly from the hanging lamps, “-looks like I won't be able to pay you back for the coffee the other day. This place is going to hell and those agents honestly think they'll be able to take them. You know them, those skinny kids would get their asses handed by anyone-” the boy laughed, rubbing away at the blood streaming down his face. “Anyway, look I know this is probably way outta line but me and Fass, we'd appreciate it if you could tell our folks how we really went down. We don't want any of that covered up mickey mouse bullshit- tell them the truth.”

Fassbinder was kneeling beside him now, nodding as he sported a- oh God- bullet wound in his shoulder.

“I want my parents to know I was right about one thing for once and that...” He smiled, wincing as a table behind them exploded. “...well that I wasn't a complete loser... Ask your boyfriend if he can help you with that favor. We'll miss you man-”

Leo watched helplessly as the video came to an end. The media player closed on its own (Sharsky had programmed it that way) and the wallpaper of the himself wearing goggles and a lab coat (Fassbinder had taken that picture) came up. Carajo.¹

He stared at the screen, and watched it fade slowly to black before he realized there were tears streaming down his face.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

.

It was another hour before Leo was roused from his stupor. He didn't know who was at his elbow, dragging him away. He just saw a pair of shiny looking shoes, a pair of hands grab his laptop and stuff it into the bag before swinging it over a suited shoulder. He probably heard a voice but he didn't really pay any attention to it.

He was walked passed a couple of offices, a few people patted his hair or head and he heard a few murmurs of sympathy but it all fell on deaf ears as he followed whoever it was that was leading him out. The endless mutters and pats stopped and he found himself, an eternity later, standing out on the sidewalk, Simmons at his elbow and hailing a taxi.

The older agent shoved him inside, barked the directions at the driver and then they were speeding off. He didn't notice how much time it took, only noticed the hand on his elbow before the ride and the feel of the hand on his elbow again, as he blinked out into the night, preparing himself for the stairs he knew were before him.

A moment or two of endless stairs and he was within the apartment, collapsing into the warm body next to his, fumbling to make contact with anything- hand, shoulder, skin, just need skin-

Suddenly Simmons pulled away, gasping for air and holding him away at arm's length. Leo felt oddly cold as the man struggled for breath away from him. Then the closed eyes opened and descended on his, “I'll stop if you want me to.”

Leo didn't answer. Licking his lips, he watched, fascinated as the agent's gaze traced the motion. He surged forward and pulled the warmth back in. He needed it.

He moaned (later he would deny sounding anything remotely like a hooker) low in his throat, thoughts of wantthisneedohgodneedsomuch running through his mind chasing away the bitter memories of his friends. He needed them to go away. God, he needed to see nothing. Nothing.

Simmons thrust, licked, bit and made him gasp as searing white pleasure burst beneath his closed eyelids.

“Pleasepleaseplease...”

He whimpered as a mouth descended on his, nipping at his lips, sucking on his tongue- no, God, no too much- and suddenly he bit back, drawing blood and a startled intake of breath. He focused on the blood, allowing it to flow into his lips and ground him as teeth tugged at his own lips. The pain grounded him, bringing him back.

As Simmons flipped them over, he found himself crying- tears dropping hot and wet on the curls on the chest exposed beneath him. He clung to him, burying himself in the warmth, listening to the steady heartbeat thudding under his ear.

“Shh,” Simmons, whispered. “Sleep.”

.

Things changed after that.



¹ Spanish for "hell"
² Spanish for "crazy"
³ Spanish for "idiot," "asshole," "fool"
⁴ Spanish for "Shit that-"
⁵ Spanish for "shit"

Part Two


Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: Failed Disinterest
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Harvey Dent
Genre(s): Lime, General
Prompt: The love triangle has a dynamic Rachel doesn't know about.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1083
Summary: Bruce tries not to show an interest in him, but it's hard not to.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: I'll be honest I had no idea where to start this or how to end it, but I decided what the hell might as well start off somewhere and end off somewhere. I'm not sure if it's IC enough though. :\ For the slashfest
Will edit later~ Edited~

---

When Harvey tries to get a reservation at the new restaurant under his care, Bruce is amused. He hears all about the calls he makes and the strings he tries to pull and finally allows him the slot only because he knows he can use this as an opportunity to know more about him. He's been watching him for a long time now, wondering how trust-worthy he is. He knows Rachel wouldn't get so close to someone without being completely sure of their character first so he should be assured. But he isn't.

Not yet at least.

When he finally gets to meet him, in the flesh it's a little... astounding to say the least. He hears all he has to say and for a moment he's lost in the words. It gives him a new sense of hope and thrill to know that someone, someone right here, before him, knows that there is something he wants. Even if he can't thank him he can still do other things to return the favor.

He can do a great many things actually- some that he can say now and other things... well he can certainly do that without saying it aloud.

“Well... I'm sold Dent...”

.

Later he follows Dent into the bathroom. Playing it off as a simple pressing need. The looks that are sent his way couldn't be any different- Natascha gives him is a knowing grin and Rachel shoots him a sweet hopeful smile. Rachel doesn't know about his other life as a playboy millionaire but Natascha does. It's funny he thinks. He can talk to all the girls he dates about the things he does and doesn't do with so much ease but he can't bring himself to reveal this to his best friend.

He can't tell her what he does in the men's bathrooms when he takes one of the agency's girls out. He can't tell her what he's suddenly become as Bruce Wayne. He can't let her know. Ever.

Bruce reaches the bathroom and eyes the pacing man inside. He gives no indication he's entered, quietly entering and locking the door behind him. He watches as the blonde runs a hand through his hair. He smirks at the visible tension in those shoulders. He could get rid of that very easily.

“Worried?” He asks, leaning casually against the wall.

Harvey jumps and looks around at him. Bruce watches as a series of expressions flit across his face. Those eyes eye him and the closed door behind him, widening at the sudden realization of the locked door. If anything he can give Harvey credit for the glare he's sending his way. He had a lot of balls.

“Some,” Harvey replied. “You know, that's what regular people kind of do.”

Bruce grins mockingly, “you implying I'm not 'regular people' Dent?”

Harvey scoffs at him, “you're a Wayne. Of course you aren't.”

“True,” Bruce nods.

Which is why Harvey doesn't look surprised when Bruce moves forward and pushes him up against the wall, reaching for his fly. Bruce smirks and gets down on his knees, knowing full well that this is what's expected of him. Especially considering the wrong signals he'd been sending. Still it's not like as if Harvey minds much- the hard length before him gives him away the instant he sees it.

“Just so you know,” Bruce begins conversationally, “this shouldn't leave the bathroom.”

“So long as you don't tell Rachel I could care less what else you do,” Harvey grits out.

Bruce shrugs and opens his mouth.

.

When they return to the girls, Bruce is impeccable except for the tell-tale marks of dust on his knees and Harvey looks no different from before except for the angry glint in his eyes. Rachel notices and grimaces yet Bruce is almost sure it's for all the wrong reasons. Natascha appraises him for a full minute before she begins talking immediately.

Bruce is once again grateful she understands and knows. All the girls know and it won't be long before every girl coming through Gotham will know before they even meet him.

Not long afterward they get up to leave, the Russian woman suggestively winks at him to give more to their act. Bruce smiles at Rachel and nods at Harvey, kindly reminding him of their future meeting. The carefully hidden scowl is enough of an answer for him to know that Harvey won't be forgetting about that any time soon

*

When he tells Alfred the fundraiser is for Dent, he means it. He's become more than a little intrigued by his political persona and he's hopeful that with this he'll stay on for years to come. That's why despite his obvious interest he doesn't bother seeing him at the door. Doesn't bother warning Alfred to be nice. And doesn't bother to really convince Rachel otherwise when she thinks he's mocking him. Because that's what he wants everyone to think- it's easier this way.

He showed too much interest in Rachel as Batman so she became a target. Even as Bruce she still got some attention- so if he were to commit the same mistake with Harvey... he shudders to think what would happen to him.

Yet, despite his attempts at disinterest he's wrong.

His plan isn't what goes wrong it's that he forgot. He complete forgot all that Harvey is and had done. So when Gordon texts him to tell him about Harvey he realizes too late he really can't protect Harvey. He can't save him from the horrors that's sure to come. He is absolutely helpless in this respect. He can't even stop it when Harvey realizes who he really is.

“You know that voice of yours is really much too recognizable,” Harvey comments as he looks him up from the pantry. “And that suit of yours? Was custom made, wasn't it... Batman?”

Bruce sighs and looks away. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. He can't believe he actually let himself go like that. He hadn't paid careful attention to Dent's state and he allowed him to find out-

“I won't tell you know,” Harvey mutters. “Who would believe Batman gave me a blowjob anyway?”

Bruce looks at him comically before laughing.

“You better go, Lau won't keep for much longer,” he replies.

“See you around?” Dent asks.

Bruce eyes the man's hopeful look and nods, “probably.”




Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: Bloodied hands
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): Lime
Prompt: The Joker likes knives... and Batman discovers he does too!
Rating: R
Word Count: 1845
Summary: All he can do is sit back and enjoy because as far as he's concerned he'll never understand why.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: Bloodplay, masturbation, obviously knives~
Note: Originally this was supposed to be for the team challenge and mmom but... during the last week of May I decided to go to the beach, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and the mall- thus time for fic was blown off...Ahahaha yes, I fail. |D;; Still upon looking over the beginning of this I decided to twist this around a bit and realized it really fits the slashfest prompt I picked. :D
Will edit this properly later~ Edited~

---

Bruce watches as the crazed man walks amid the men and women smoking in the alley. Some ignore him, others catch his face and run, and yet others crowd closer to him, following him as he walks. His fist tightens, fighting down the urge to land in their midst and take them all down. He watches.

For a moment he loses sight of them but a few steps closer and they're within his vision. His eyes follow as they enter a building opposite him.

His eyes narrow, what are you up to Joker?

The people who are following him disappear in the building. Bruce can't find them anymore. Then a light turns on in a room. He can see the Joker walking around in it, all limbs coming into view as the jacket is thrown onto a chair, and the man begins to undress. Buttons of the vest slip out first, hurriedly (as if he can't wait) then the shirt (hastily and without care to the rips) and finally the pants (bouncing up and down as he kicks them off and falls onto the mattress).

He's never seen the Joker like this. He's never seen the man without his clothing that mark him as the man that has tried to own these streets. He's never seen him so... human. He watches in awe as the man lies on a bed just like any person would. It feels so... surreal to intrude on such a scene. Yet he can't tear his eyes away.

He sucks in a surprised breath as a hand trails over the long expanse of white skin he can see. Nails trail down and a hand slips beneath the band of-

Is he-?

Bruce's eyes widen. He is.

.

Really?

Joker grins as he eyes the shadow, up on the rooftop. He vaguely wonders what the man is doing up there (voyeur much Bats?) before he gives up and simply accepts it. It's not like as if it should be so much of a surprise- the hero is just as obsessed as he is, no matter how much he denies their similarities.

He walks up the stairs slowly, calculating the distance and the view from Bat's hiding place. A thrill runs up his spine as he wonders how to keep the vigilante's attention for just a little longer. An idea springs to his mind.

Well... It has been a while.

He smiles to himself and enters the hallway on the eighth flight. He chooses a room at random- they were all good enough for his purposes- and slips inside. Turning on the lights he decides against too ostentatious a show. He has to lure him in and give the bat a false sense of security. He needs to make sure he stayed when he began and ended.

He lays on the bed and begins. First a tease (a little taste of what's to come). He lets his hands wander- scratches, caresses, pinches. Some to his nipples, one just above his navel, and a long curl of nails run along his skin- all as he lets one hand slip into his boxers. It all serves to work himself up. Working up to the next bit where he fully exposes himself to the eyes he knows are still on him.

You could have gone away.

But he didn't. Joker can still feel that presence out there bound to him by a tie so strong it twists and curls inside him, choking his entire soul so all he can feel is those eyes. Dark eyes watching him as he begins a new act for the bat to watch.

Yet... it's not enough. Joker growls low in his throat, tugging at his boxers as the release builds up in his stomach. No, there's something he nngh... needs.. Blindly he reaches out for the bedside table where he's left his knife. He curls a hand around it and revels in the blood flowing out of his palm. Yesss.

This is what he needed.

He reaches down with the bloodied hand and replaces the knife with the other, letting the edge skitter across his chest. A few more strokes of his hand and he's gone, eyes seeing nothing but white as his release spills onto his belly. He groans and peers lazily out the window. The shadow is gone.

.

Bruce doesn't bother to stay. He runs as fast as he can, blood rushing in his ears as he makes away from the scene. Those movements are etched into his skull and for the life of him, he can't make them go away. The way the hands moved languidly over skin he had never seen- so pale, so-

He shakes his head. He doesn't need to think about this right now. He doesn't need to think about it all. Right now, what should be weighing on his mind is the fact that all those people disappeared into the building.

Forcing himself to breathe he heads to the tumbler and slipping inside he races back to the penthouse.

Yes, that's what he should be thinking about.

Except in his mind's eye all he can see is the blood on that pale hand as it moved.

*

Bruce watches as the man slowly strips again. It's been exactly three weeks since he's come to watch him. At first he tried to convince himself that it was simply to figure out what the clown was up to but now, he's not so sure that's quite right.

It's no small secret that the Joker is obsessed with him. He has just never thought it would go both ways. At least not to this degree. In a way he should have seen it coming- watching him the first time had been fascinating and even now, with this new twist to the show- it still is.

The cuts had been troubling at first- yet he can't forget the look of ecstasy on the man's face as soon as the blood poured out. He looked away that first time. But now... now he can't help but look. He swallows as he inches forward. It is disturbingly alluring. No matter how much he tries, he can't tear his eyes away.

That's why, when he finds himself moving from his building to the next he's not surprised. He actually wonders why it's taken so long.

.

Joker waves the people away. They've been pining at him, trying to find out what's going on his mind and what they're there for. He shakes his head with a sigh. He doesn't really understand what they're doing here to be honest. He hadn't asked for them to follow- they had simply seen him and followed. He knows he's had that effect before but really? He just got out, he doesn't need this right now. He needs-

He sneaks a glance out the window and tries not to smile but he can't help it. His lips stretch even further as he laughs under his breath.

Of course, he thinks, right on time too.

For the past few weeks it's been like this. Every night since that first one, Bat has come to see him and every night he does exactly the same thing. It's amusing to see how far he can go and how long the Bat is willing to stay.

He hasn't stuck around much longer since the first night but at least he is starting to stay past the first few gashes on his skin. He can feel the heat of the gaze on him and it thrills him like nothing else.

He strips himself, taking a bit longer between each article of clothing and stretches, working out the kinks in his shoulders. It has been a while since he's been able to do this. Arkham had kept him confined in that silly jacket for far too long.

Then he flicks the lights off and heads for the lamp beside the bed. It's a soft glow that bathes the room in half shadows and rays, illuminating only what's within the bulb's reach.

He stretches out on the bed and reaches for the knife automatically- he's taken to keeping one under the pillow now. At first he stares at it thoughtfully, one hand behind his head as he contemplates it. He brings it to his mouth and licks it. It's cold to the touch and for a moment he doesn't do anything else but that. He pulls it away to stare again, only this time he smirks a little.

He's not alone in the room tonight.

Joker's not sure how he managed it but he knows that he's somewhere in the shadows of the room. He can hear the hitch of breath as he moves forward to lick up to the tip of the blade and cuts his tongue, spilling blood over it in small wet drops. He moves it away and licks his lips, letting the blood ooze and gather about the folds of his mouth.

“Don't stop.”

Joker raises a brow and continues licking the blade. It's slick and wet and his tongue is bleeding profusely as he finally lets the knife travel away from his face and to his skin.

He suddenly gasps as a gloved hand reaches over to grip his and guides the knife down, tearing barely healed skin in its wake. He moans and writhes under the assault- it has been so long since someone did this to him.

He wants to reach up and bite. He wants to scratch. He wants to twist and turn them over just so he can fuck him. But he doesn't. Instead he allows it to go on like this and groans low in his throat as a bloodied glove reaches down to take him.

.

To be quite honest, Bruce has no idea why he's here. He just knows he can't stand watching from so far away. Not when he has the chance to be this close. Especially with the obvious invitation to do so. The dim lighting is enough to help him navigate the small clutter of a room but isn't enough to give away what anyone is doing in the room. For that he's grateful even if it is a little unsettling to wonder if the Joker spared a thought for his fears of being caught by someone else or if he planned it this way to get him closer.

He moves forward as soon as the knife makes its appearance. He can't help it, he's just so attracted to the sight. After seeing it so many times, watching from afar the faces he makes, and only imagining the noises he makes, he can't help but move closer. Now he's here and he's seeing it, listening to the sounds escaping that arched and exposed throat, holding the knife in his own hands.

This should feel dirty... wrong-

It does. It's filthy. It's disgusting. It's fucking addicting. And he loves it.

So Bruce maps out the skin and carves out new marks with the knife, reveling in each new incision.




Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥

Title: Of all Things
Author: ilcocoabean/madwanderer
Fandom: Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker, Bruce/OMC
Genre(s): Gen, slash, lime, dark, violence (blood, knives etc~)
Prompt: “Got a taste for the theatrical, like you.” - Jim Gordon on the Joker in Batman Begins
Rating: R
Word Count: 7,886
Summary: The rest of the world can't really see the way Joker does, but can Batman?
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Note: For Round 7 over at knightvsanarchy, go Team Anarchy~
So, I've been sitting on this idea for about a month or so and since I got more time for this round I thought what the heck might as well. Also, this could be taken as a continuation of Stripped (no seriously I mean that, I made a lot of references to my own fic without realizing it ahahaha) but can stand alone pretty fine. Title comes from current song play Rilo Kiley's The Execution of All Things. And yes, my mind ran away with the prompt and had babies with it because this became longer that it was supposed to. I made edit it later and add more just because I can. :P And now I'm hungry.

---

The third time he was caught Joker stayed in Arkham for three months before he escaped. It had been so disgustingly easy- even for a man like him. The door had been there, open, beckoning him to walk through. But he had stayed to play- just a little.

The new doctor had honestly thought he'd be able to help him. It had been funny to see him there at his desk, earnestly asking him all the wrong questions in a vain attempt to get through to him. Joker had gone along, throwing in a few hints here and there of what was really going on in his head.

“Chaos can't be all that you want,” the good doctor had decided, folding his fingers over the clipboard.

“And why not?” Joker played with seams of his uniform with disgust. This color just won't do, he decided finally, honestly why orange?

The straight jacket had never been on when he was with the doctor. He claimed it wasn't healthy for such “fragile, impressionable minds.” Countless of nurses and doctors had warned him against it (“He's the Joker!” One hysterical orderly screamed. “He's got no fragile mind! He's a monster- a sick twisted motherfuc-!”). Joker was glad the doctor didn't listen. It had given him time to stretch after the hours of restriction.

“There has to be more than just this need for chaos and madness,” he pressed, leaning forward in his chair. “We, all need something or someone, there must be something else you need.”

When he had finished saying that Joker had laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Because really it was just too funny not to.

.

Tuesday, 9:05 pm

On the night of his escape the Joker towered over him, laughing. He regarded the doctor's look of fear and shock with a tilt of his head. He wasn't expecting it? Really?

“You're right about one thing doc,” he reached down for the man's head. “There is something I need to do.”

He died less than a minute later, a smile stretched out past his lips and into his cheeks. Joker walked out the front entrance, skipping to an imaginary tune in his head. He had a sho-o-w to do...

‡

Wednesday, 5:56 pm

Bruce scanned the news quickly. Joker's escape was on all the channels. Speculation ran amuk and vague wonderings were thrown about carelessly by reporters. He turned these wild ravings down and turned up the volume to an interview with an officer:

“At the present moment we have only found the head doctor. He died at approximately nine pm last night. No one else was harmed, however a few patients have gone missing. The public is warned that these men are very unstable and should not be approached at all costs.”

He felt his private cellphone vibrate and reached for it without thinking twice. It had to be news.

“He's left a note,” Gordon's exasperated voice filtered through.

“I'll meet you in an hour.”

“Where?”

Bruce shut the phone off without bothering to answer.

‡

Wednesday, 7:30 pm

Joker watched the flashing lights from above the city and contemplated the shadows briefly. Surely Bat would fly about sooner or later. He had probably heard alllll about his...escape. He was possibly even listening to the whole story right now. Alone? Or maybe in company? Or perhaps-?

-it didn't matter, so long as he was watching.

He looked down at the address scrawled on the napkin with distaste. He couldn't believe it- that man has come back to Gotham after all he'd been put through? Well, after all Joker had put him through.

Laughing to himself he turned on his heel and left the premises. He'd need supplies now and those henchmen hadn't kept their blubbering promises about being back within the hour. He'd kill them later- now they were vital to his muses.

He hummed, swaying slightly to the sound.

‡

Wednesday, 8:16 pm

Coleman Reese paced his room. He had only been back in town for a week after constant reassurances from Wayne Enterprises of a safe return to a normal life. They had offered him full security to his home but he had stupidly rejected it, thinking that the Joker would be put away for good this time! He groaned and sat down but then he sprang back up. The Joker knew, he knew. So it wouldn't be long before he came along to terrorize him again and then-

A knock to the door was the only warning he got before it was opened.

He turned and faced the man standing there. He still looked like he had in those tapes. Tapes that had driven Gotham mad with fear practically a year ago. Tapes that had haunted him as well. His face looked horrible this close; he could see the scars, the wrinkles, the gleam of lipstick-

“What?” Joker twirled the chain of keys- how did he-? “You honestly thought I wouldn't visit when you got back?”

Coleman swallowed, “Are you going to kill me?”

Joker grinned and moved forward, knife slipping out of his sleeve with swiftness. He pressed it to the redhead's cheek and tapped it against him.

“First, you'll have to do something for me Reese...”

‡

Wednesday, 6:56 pm

Batman crept above the buildings, keeping on eye on Gordon's car as it drove out of the MCU garage. He watched as the weary commissioner began his journey home. He ran, moving over the buildings with skill and precision, landing each jump and proceeding quickly onto the next one to keep up.

He stopped at a red light as the car did and moved to the end of the ledge. From this height and point he would appear to the Commissioner- others would mistake him for a shadow. He stayed there for just a moment, waiting for those brown eyes to flick up to him before quickly moving onto the other building.

He didn't have to look behind him to know that the car was following him.

.

7:27 pm

“He says he's skipping town for the next couple of days,” Gordon muttered presenting the plastic bag.

Batman took the bag and noted the paper's relative cleanliness and the disordered scrawl before reading it:

Dear Batsy,

I'll be leaving for a couple of days- maybe a week or two or three. Don't miss me too much dear~

I'll be back with a surprise!


Joker

Bruce resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of all the-

“Seems like the note was meant more for you than for the rest of us,” Gordon murmured. “We've got most of the Arkham patients back but there's still one missing. He's not potentially dangerous- we think he may be hiding in one of the theaters, he's got a friend who works there-”

Batman didn't bother to listen to the rest as Gordon leaned back into his car, searching for something. He didn't care much about the patient- he had seen his file already.

[Dave Haley. Twenty-two. Ex-actor that accidentally killed his previous mentor for rejecting him in a part for Hamlet by pushing him off the stage. Nervous with random mood swings, he'd been taken there for his own safety (attempted suicide).]

Gordon could handle it.

‡

Thursday, 3:45 am

Joker took in his new appearance. His scars had been filled in, hair bleached, and clothes changed for new ones- he looked so... ordinary. He pouted at his reflection before shrugging. He had to do what he had to do. He dried his hands and turned to the clutter of papers in the room. It was a small room- one of many in the Narrows. The yellow wallpaper was barely visible underneath the thumb-tacked newspaper clippings and drawings he had put up. The floorboards creaked with each step he took. His hand moved up automatically to stop the swinging bulb that barely lit the room. The bed had papers scattered over it and a spring or two popped up between them. For anyone else this room would have been hell but for Joker it was more than enough. He was also glad to see that none of his henchmen had decided to fiddle with his quarters.

He had warned them previously what would happen if they did and he was glad they listened. But who wouldn't do so after witnessing an ex-colleague's severed hands in a bowl of cereal next to the coffee pot? Joker chuckled at the memory and leafed through the papers patiently.

Nooow, where did I leave it? Ah-ha! He grinned triumphantly as he extracted a file of papers. Just what I was looking for. Hmm papers are here but... keys?

Joker twitched, resisting the urge to scratch the latex on his cheeks. He lifted a paper with his index finger and smiled, there you are.

.

5:25 pm

It wasn't long before the long cue began to die off. Joker kept a bowl of grapes by his side the entire time, watching them go up, one by one, to the stage to put on the little act. They had been given the script while waiting in line and the ones who had gone on first were allowed a second chance- just one more. He picked off a grape and inspected it minutely.

It had been washed, and it shone bright underneath the stage lights yet he could still see the white blotches here and there. He popped it into his mouth and let his front teeth crush into the delicate skin that ruptured at its center. His tongue pushed it back to his molars and his ears listened to the delicious crunch that seemed in sync with the girl's heels.

He waved for her to begin. She did so in a strong unwavering voice:

“My story's a little different. You see I wasn't just here because of the things I did but because I wanted more than that- I wanted to watch him live and then torture him and then die and-”

Her voice rose and fell along with the lines- she knew what she was doing. He popped another fruit in his mouth and continued to watch. She was doing wonderfully. He took in her frantic movements, the darting eyes, and her voice. She'd do. She finished off, down on her knees, hair loose from her bun and splayed out all over her face as tears ran down her cheeks.

He grinned, ignoring the stale taste in his mouth from the grapes.

‡

Friday 7:15 am

Adriana wandered about the others, listening to their excited whispers and chats with only half an ear. They had been standing here for a good fifteen minutes now. Mr. J had said to be on time or else- what he meant by “else” she didn't know. As she looked over the stage and took in the theater's expansive space she suddenly jumped. A pair of green eyes from one of the boxes were staring at them.

She squinted- the lights from the stage were so bright, blinding so as to help any poor actor with stage fright, usually helpful. Now it was merely a nuisance to her. Those eyes looked so oddly familiar... Suddenly it hit her- oh yes. The theater director.

He was a tad too eccentric for her tastes but most of the girls around her seemed to be gushing over him. She flinched as a squeal went up in their midst- these girls were just so loud. And the boys weren't far behind either- a few of them were just as bad. She rolled her eyes and went back to her lines, turning up the volume on her iPod- at least she could drown them out before Mr. Jay decided to make his presence known

.

7:23 am

Joker crossed his legs and eyed the excited youngsters with distaste. Their wardrobe was the first order of business. Almost all of them were wearing some sort of formal garb along with pretentious accessories that clashed with the wardrobe and their heels wouldn't stop clicking- outrageous. Weren't these kids supposed to be eccentric and whatnot? Hell, even he wasn't wearing anything formal (denim black jeans, dark purple shirt and a dark sweater) and he was supposed to be the stage director!

One girl wore a long sleeved dressing shirt with ruffles at the sleeve ends- still a dress shirt, he thought grudgingly. The boy he'd handpicked himself was in a full formal clothing apparel, strictly blinding white shirt, dark pinstriped pants with a jacket that matched to boot! And their hair- so dull and straight and wavy and was that oil he smelled?

Tutting he uncrossed his legs and got up. He stepped out of his box picking up his briefcase as he went. He shuffled down the stairs, muttering all the way. They were lucky they were good at what they were about to do. If they hadn't been he'd have shot them all for annoying him so early in the morning.

He stepped into the lobby and entered through the double doorways, straight into the main floor. One girl stood off to the side from the rest and stared at him as he made his way towards them. Slowly the others took notice and their chattered died out.

He stepped over the wall separating the floor from the orchestra pit and continued on. He set the leather case on the stage and flicked it open casually. He rummaged around and successfully extracted the sketches, slamming them on the stage floor. He smugly took in their collective jumps and flinches with pride- he still had it.

“You all are in charge of your costumes,” he turned around and placing his palms on the stage he pushed himself up. He could almost imagine the picture he was setting up for them- as a director he could have just used the stairs, but stairs were for squares (heh that rhymed!). “I don't care how you do it, just get something equal if not similar to this.” He handed them their sketches without looking up at them, simply handing them at random based on their shoes. “I expect you to have them no later than Sunday,” Joker moved to the center stage and clapped his hands eying them all coolly, “let's begin.”

‡

Friday, 10:33 pm

Bruce leaned into the model's ear, whispering his line with exaggerated drunken ease. She giggled and nodded. He watched her get up from the table and move in the direction of the restrooms. He turned to the other girls and the men sitting beside him. They all chatted amiably cigarette smoke and alcohol tinging their breath with each word- while they waited for the inevitable departure of Bruce Wayne.

He kept his face carefully entertained as a joke was explained. He only had half of his attention on the scene. He really didn't know why he was here. He should be out in Gotham looking for Joker.

“Hey, ready to get out of here?”

He nearly jumped at the words whispered in his ear. It was only the model who'd returned from the bathroom. He turned to his companions and bid them good night, insisting once more that the tab was on him. Once outside, the girl waved to a young man across the street. Winking she left the two together and hailed a cab for herself. Once inside the limo the man was all over him, expert hands reaching for his belt and fly with ease. He didn't even bother to tell the driver to get them out of the parking lot, he simply took him there forgetting for a moment the possible repercussions.

The man was napping on his shoulder, completely sated with his soiled briefs lying on the automobile's floor when Bruce instructed the driver to start driving.

‡

Saturday, 7:06

Joker combed back his hair and waved a dismissive hand at the men posted outside the theater. It wasn't like they were really necessary, nothing out of the ordinary would happen here. Not yet at least, he thought with a small giggle. He looked up at the boys and girls rehearsing.

The hell-? He clucked his tongue at them.

“No, no, no, no!” He shook his head and moved forward. “You're doing it wrong. Again.”

He climbed up on the stage, must I teach you everything?! He might as well have called the whole thing off- the damn idiots weren't going to get it right at this rate.

He sighed. No. He had to let them try. And these morons would get it right.

“You're telling, not showing! The audience needs to see you talk through your hands, your facial expressions, your body- not just through your voice!”

‡

Saturday, 3:12 pm

Bruce scanned the note mercilessly for- he would never utter the number to himself- the fifteenth time in the past two days. He groaned and covered his eyes. There was nothing. No trace, no clue- nothing. There had to be something he'd overlooked. The Joker wasn't one to just leave notes without leaving something that would fuck his mind later on for having missed it. He got up and paced the room, ignoring the sounds from the lift at the other end.

“The agency called,” Alfred called out. “They were wondering if you were going to miss the rest of your lunch dates this week or if they should still send their girls in vain.”

The millionaire cursed under his breath. He had completely forgotten about Patty. He hadn't even looked at the time-

“I thought it best if I brought you lunch,” the butler set the plate on his desk. “Still testing?”

“He's left something here Alfred,” Bruce muttered, making a wild bite at the sandwich, chewing slowly before swallowing. “I just can't see it.”

“Perhaps it's just note.”

Bruce sighed resisting the urge to glare at his butler.

“Food for thought Master Wayne.”

‡

Saturday, 8:45 am

Joker tilted his head as he watched the boys and girls break into a screaming match. It wasn’t in the script but the past three days of rehearsal had given them some inkling of what he was expecting from them. He grinned- they were learning well.

As the last shout died off, he clapped. They stood back, smiling expectantly. He stood and took them in one sweeping glance. They were all wearing their costumes, perfectly tailored to suit the sketches he had given them with a few personal touches of their own.

“I see you’ve taken some liberties with the costumes,” he commented pacing before them. “Billy, the chain would be better if you ripped the shirt a little more. There that’s it,” a rip and a tug later he smiled. “Good. Now Dave come here.”

The young blonde moved forward and sat down on the stage before jumping off. He stopped a mere two feet from him. Joker looked him up and down and tutted.

There's something missing... Make-up's good. Clothing fine. But what is it that- oh yes, that.

Joker pointed down at the boy's shoes. The boy looked down and blushed, shuffling.

“What did I tell you about your shoes last time?”

Dave squirmed under his gaze before replying quietly, “that they needed to be broken in and dirty.”

“Are those dirty?”

“No.”

Joker raised a brow at him, “well then what are you waiting for?”

The boy- really he was much too young- looked up at him in confusion. Joker resisted the urge to slap him and his own forehead. Instead he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Rain. Outside. Get those shoes dirty. Now.”

Joker didn't even bother to look up as the kid all but ran out the door. Well now that that was taken care of...

“Adriana, mess your hair up some more.”

‡

Sunday, 8:45 am

Bruce kept an ear turned to the television as he checked the note again. The same words still stared back at him. He had checked it enough times to be sure that there really was nothing (Alfred's subtle hints about paranoia and obsession had kept him away from running another test).

The blue ink caught the light and as he looked the words over he wondered if perhaps he really was gone. He shook his head. Of course he wasn't. Joker didn't just leave. It wasn't in his nature to simply leave him alone.

He blinked.

Had he actually commented on Joker's nature? Since when did he think of him as a person? He was a criminal who needed to be put back behind bars and-

“Master Bruce, the caterer is here with the samples,” Alfred's voice filtered through the intercom.

Bruce sighed. He got up and moved away from the computer, leaving the note on the table. He couldn't stare at it all day.

‡

Monday, 4:48 am

Joker mounted the stairs with a sigh. It had nearly been a week and everything was running smoothly- well, as smooth as they could given the circumstances. But Joker knew that without a doubt things had be perfect two weeks from tomorrow. There was no other option- everything had to be just right for the play.

He fished out the keys in his pocket and opened the door easily, kicking it closed behind him. Throwing the suitcase on the floor, he immediately took the sweater off and the rest of his ordinary clothing. Tomorrow the kids would rehearse without him- he needed sleep now. He pulled at the latex on his skin, peeling away the source of his itchiness.

He fell onto his bed, pulling the covers over him, and ignoring the papers that dropped from the cushion to the floor. He could care less if the damn things were extra scripts or notes on the damn show- he was exhausted. Those stupid fools were just beginning to sink into the characters- and that was more than he expected from them. If they kept going this way, things might actually turn out better than he'd hoped for.

As much as he hated to admit it, their skills were necessary for what he was about to do. He groaned and rolled over. He hated having to depend on others' competence- they usually had none.

‡

Monday, 2:56 pm

Billy stretched and yawned. How long had they been at this scene? He rolled his eyes. Mr. J sure was obsessive over the perfection of the scenes. He had had them practicing seven days a week, from seven till well past midnight. He wasn't complaining. Oh no, he was pretty happy at having landed a job with such a great director.

This play was also the best that Gotham would see in months. Who would have thought such a great playwright would come here? Of all places, Gotham? He'd seen almost all of Mr. J's works in London and they were so fascinating.

It was a chance of a lifetime to work with this man- mysterious and handsome as he was he was a legend whose face had never been seen. He vaguely wondered why. He was a sight to behold when he was in his element, directing his own work.

“Guys, let's take a break,” Dave interrupted the scene. “I think we all need to get some lunch before we go on any longer.”

Billy watched as he and the other two boys disappeared off to the sides. He and the (three) girls looked between each other and shrugged.

“Pizza?” Adriana suggested.

‡

Tuesday, 9:35 am

One week had passed and still no sign of the Joker. Gordon hadn't called him up either. Still that hadn't stopped him from going out looking for the damned clown. He was surely up to no good and as tempting as it sounded for him to have skipped town, Bruce was sure he hadn't. The Joker was still in Gotham, somewhere.

Somewhere, plotting, and setting a trap for the innocents of Gotham. Or worse, just another repeat of the restaurant (Bruce refused to acknowledge those events with vehemence).

He shifted restlessly in his seat among the committee. He schooled his look of boredom into one of feigned interest and focused on the person speaking. Something about figures and charts and increases, and decreases-

Bruce was asleep before he knew it.

‡

Thursday, 6:37 pm

Joker sat amongst his kids and watched them gobble the ice cream eagerly. After such a successful rehearsal it was the least he could do. They didn't have much time left to enjoy anyway.

“Mister Jay,” Dave sucked on the spoon carefully. “Where did you get the idea for the play anyway?”

He blinked- he had forgotten the kids could speak. They had all been so absorbed in the ice cream that the entire theater had been blessed with silence for the first time in a week.

“Idea?”

“Yes, the inspiration for the complex characters?”

“Inspiration?”

“There must have been something that caused you to write this Mister,” one of the younger girls (Madison if he wasn't mistaken) asked- Joker flinched, her voice was so high pitched. “You can't just write without wanting something to come out of it, a message or a morale. And a man like you must have so many ideas of reform for the poor patients in the asylum, why else would you-?”

Joker was laughing before he could even stop himself. He ignored their stares as he clutched his sides. It was just too much for him.

‡

Saturday, 1:29 pm

“Mr. Wayne I'll be frank with you- you need sleep.”

Bruce snapped his head up from the table. He looked around, blinking slowly. Huh, so the meeting had ended- it hadn't been his mind playing tricks on him... though to be honest, he was sure the men that had occupied the chairs around him had didn't have white make up on or wild green eyes.

He shook his head and smiled up at his CEO.

Fox leaned his hip into the desk before beginning once more, “there hasn't been any major problems I'm aware of- most of the problems around here has been kept relatively low. And the Joker hasn't been spotted for nearly two weeks-”

“Eleven days,” Bruce uttered involuntarily.

The older man stared at him, eyebrows raised. Bruce fiddled with his tie before looking back up to the man, “he's up to something.”

Fox stared him down. From his seat Bruce literally felt eight years old again. Sometimes he forgot that he had more than one person who still cared about him and his well-being. He sighed and scratched his head.

“I'll get some sleep tonight.”

“I should hope so, the committee might actually consider asking your opinion in the next meeting.”

Bruce got up and grinned, “right.”

‡

Wednesday, 11:33 am

Joker watched as the kids left the theater. He smiled a little in spite of himself. He was so going to enjoy what was to happen to them. More than he probably should but it was something to look forward to. After their latest chat (they actually thought he was willing to listen to them) they all deserved what was coming to them.

He returned his gaze to the stage and tilted his head to the side. Hmmm... he hadn't given much thought on the scenery yet. He still had his henchmen working on getting some of the set together (chairs, couches, tables, knives, curtains, hooks) but it wouldn't be put up till around tomorrow afternoon. After that he'd line them all up and kill them on stage. They needed the blood anyway and this way the stains would be real instead of that cheap Halloween stuff that the kids kept using during their special scenes.

He rubbed his hands together and sat back down. He had to sketch a little and find out exactly how to organize the furniture first though. If he didn't have it set up right then it would ruin everything and he'd have to start over again. If that happened he might have to stay away from his Bats for another three weeks.

And Bats was starting to miss him- he was sure of that.

‡

Friday, 3:33 pm

Bruce rolled over in bed and glared at the lights flooding in.

“We've had this conversation before I believe,” Alfred begins, setting the breakfast on the table. “Three o'clock was pushing it Master Wayne.”

“Alfred, of all the things I do or don't do, I think if I get little more sleep I'll be fine,” Bruce muttered groggily.

“Be that as it may other don't think as such. The agency called again- a Miss Patty if I'm not mistaken was stood up again and although she admits she is flattered for having been asked a second time, she has requested you not call her up until you are sure you'll show up for lunch.”

Bruce groaned. Again. He had forgotten again. Patty was nice, she really was- he had hooked him with that-

He hook his head and sat up, reaching for the orange juice blindly. He stared up at the ceiling and bit the inside of his cheek. What would Alfred say if he heard what the girls were really doing for him? The girls had become used to it and they eagerly participated in his secrecy- a few of them found it... cute- how it was cute, he'd never know.

“Oh and Mr. Fox called- he says that the committee wondered about your absence at the meeting this morning and if perhaps you finally found rest in a more suitable environment.”

Bruce smiled.

‡

Monday, 11:19 pm

Sitting on the main floor of the Opera House, Joker finished the last words to his note. Waving off the children and their enthusiastic goodbyes he got up himself and hurried home. Tomorrow was the big day and he still had to do a couple of things. Mail the letter, have one last rehearsal, force Dave to quit his incessant nagging about how Billy showed more skin than he did- blah blah blah.

Once home he threw the suitcase on the floor and stepped over to the lone desk in the corner. He signed it with his usual customary J and searched wildly for an envelope. The drawers of the desk were littered with all sorts of things- not an envelope, not an envelope, hey I've been looking for that marble! Not a envelope, oh helloo...

He extracted the paper with difficulty and gave a cry of triumph when it sprang free. Ignoring it's rumpled state he stuffed the note inside. He licked the envelope and considered the upper right hand side. That's where the stamps usually went.

Did it really need one? He was doing the sending after all, not the damn post office. Well if he wasn't going to write a return address then how would Bats know it was from him? Tapping his chin he looked at the blankness of it.

His eyes widened a little as an idea flitted through his mind. With a grin he jumped up and retrieved a tube of lipstick from his box of necessities. He grinned as he traced his lips.

Batsy's going to have a fit.

‡

Tuesday, 12:45 pm

Bruce stared at the note in his hand for a long time. He was used to getting mail. He really was. Sure, Alfred sometimes brought it in for him but sometimes he'd be busy and he'd pick it up himself during his lunch breaks at the Wayne penthouse.

Today had been one of those days. He had been on his way back from a meeting (the committee had commented on how well rested he looked and Bruce had been proud in not falling asleep before them) when he thought to get the mail. He didn't even bother to look at the pile until he reached the penthouse. Once there he had been in the process of taking off his suit when he froze at the sight of a letter peaking out in the midst of the magazines and business letters.

Reaching out for it with shaking hands he had picked it out and stared at it. It was how Alfred found him ten minutes later, still midway through relieving himself of his tie.

“Master Wayne, the service would like to know if you were taking your customary date tonight and-” the man stopped beside him and stared as well. “Oh my...”

Bruce groaned and covered his face in his hands.

So... Joker knew.

‡

Tuesday, 2:12 pm

Joker felt a thrill of excitement run up his spine as he watched the line of people purchasing tickets slowly grow larger. They were all expecting a great performance from Europe- filled with suspense, drama and nudity. Well he wasn't one to disappoint. It would be a grand performance if all went according to plan.

And yes nudity would come in as well.

Closing the door he turned to look back at the actors and actresses. They were all as giddy with excitement as he was, lined up behind him and attempting to peek out. Grimacing he shook his head. Shooing them away from the door he pointed to the stage.

“Rehearse the last scene again.”

Scrambling they hurried back down the rows of seats, ignoring the use of stairs and pushing themselves on the stage through the orchestra pit. Well at least they listened. It was more than he could say for the rest of the idiots that had worked under him. He grinned at the dead bodies up on the stage- the poor kids had bought it when he said he'd picked them up from a Halloween store. They hadn't even noticed the smell that was beginning to set in.

Well, he wasn't one to point it out just yet.

‡

Tuesday, 1:06 pm

Bruce opened the envelope carefully. The damn thing felt slippery and smelled like the oil the Joker had reeked of in their previous encounter. He pulled out the note with some reluctance and sat back to read it.

Batsy~!

You must have missed me, didn't you? Well since I know you've been sooooo impatient to see me how about you come to theater tonight?

There's going to be a special show you know- it's been all over the Gotham Times and I've heard it's going to be spectacular.

Be there at seven, before the doors close.

J.

He turned the envelope over and stared at the ticket within. Gotham Opera House, Box Five-

No. He stared. He wasn't. He-

Mr. J's latest production: Execution

Bruce stared. What the-?

‡

Tuesday, 3:29 pm

“Fuck,” Joker breathed as he watched the boy on the stage.

This kid who had been so perfect for the part was failing him. Now? Of all times? He covered his face. Now where in the hell was he going to get a person to take the part on such short notice? He looked up and sighed. Well if you want something done- do it yourself.

He nodded and clapped his hands slowly, “Dave dear, mind meeting me on the roof around four-thirty? I want to go over some lines I want you to include...”

“Of course Mr. J!”

He smoothed his hair back and nodded for them to go on. He'd fix him up later. Now, was not the time.

.

4:31 pm

Dave breathed in the air around him before coughing. He shook his head and wondered when Mr. J was to arrive. He had said to meet him up on the roof- odd place to meet but directors on a whole were odd. He walked over to the ledge and raised his brows- people were still lining up.

Their first performance was in a couple of hours so they were probably still waiting in hopes of tickets. He smirked- finally, his big break had come. Finally. And to be perfectly honest, he totally deserved it. He deserved this part, he deserved it all. He deserved more.

He liked Mr. J. He really did. Maybe he if could convince him for drinks after the show? He had always left with the other guys (they were fun) but if he could have had it his way, he would have followed his theater director. He knew he wouldn't have been denied.

With his good looks and his fame for blowjobs in the theatrical circles J must have heard about it. A sound behind him, made him turn around. He flinched at the cold feeling that began to spread. He looked up into green eyes, clutching at the other's jacket.

“ 'Night Dave,” Joker whispered.

‡

6:45 pm

Bruce texted Gordon fifteen minutes prior to seven. Just a little tip of what he wasn't sure would happen tonight. The people crowded the lobby with idle chatter and forced laughter. He shook his head as he descended the steps up to his box when suddenly a man came forward to stop him in his tracks.

“Mr. J sends his warmest regards and deepest regret for being unable to attend the play with you tonight,” he bowed. “However he charged me to ensure you stepped into your box on time.”

Bruce blinked, “oh...” So Joker was employing a disguise- it must have been good if people didn't recognize him for who he was, “right.”

He continued on towards his box and blinked when he noticed the door close behind him. Weren't theater boxes usually closed by curtains not by doors?

.

6:55 pm

“Where's Mr. J?” Adriana wondered as she peeked through the curtains. “He and Dave should have been here by now- five more minutes and we're supposed to start!”

“He'll be here,” Billy patted her head. “Hey where's Anna by the way?”

“Retouching her make-up with those-”

“Adriana, Billy get over here!”

The two jumped and turned around. There was their director in all his eccentric glory wearing... wasn't that-?

“Unfortunately Dave can't play his part,” he shrugged. “Family emergency- needed to go home. I'll step in. Come now, four minutes we've got to set up now!”

Billy moved quickly, listening to the man's directions with enthusiasm. Adriana eyed the stains on his wardrobe for a moment longer before nodding. She had a part to play after all.

.

7:00 pm

Bruce eyed the crowd below him. They had long since been seated and as it was they were all pleasantly chatting, eyes eagerly forwards, hands jittery with excitement as they held the playbill. He threw his own copy to the ground and pulled up his opera glasses.

Men, women, all of Gotham's upper socialite class was here. He waved as some of them turned to look at him. A large woman sat in the first row, furs covering her arms and earrings dangling wildly with each laugh she huffed. He turned away from and watched as the lights slowly dimmed and a person moved across the stage to stand in the center.

A light shone down on the solitary figure dressed in dark ripped jeans, a ripped bloodied purple shirt and dirty stained shoes. His hair was blonde and his face was shaved clean. Once he lifted his eyes to appraise the crowd, Bruce stopped breathing.

Green eyes darted up to him and there was a flicker of a wink before the actor began:

“The play has no setting. It takes place here and there, everywhere and no where. I will see you but you will not see.” he clapped his hands and the curtain rose. “Well then, here we go.”

‡

8:23 pm

Bruce watched, agitated as the play progressed. He grew more disturbed as time wore on. The atrocities occurring on stage were disgusting yet the audience went along with it, laughing and gasping at all their cues. How could these people watch this? How? He turned his gaze on them in scrutiny. There was that same woman again, smiling. Earrings so still and yet she laughed like all the rest in one booming chorus. How-?

His eyes widened in shock. No... He couldn't have.

He fumbled with his theater glasses and directed them down at the center main floor. This had to be somebody's idea of a sick joke.

He turned to the stage in disgust, Of course it was.

.

Of course he was enjoying himself. The audience was just eating it all up. Ohhh and he was changing too. He was already beginning to ah- notice the real play. Hahaheehee

Joker walked to the left side of the stage, assuming his narrating pose once more.

“Now we meet Sally and her girlfriend Silver. These two have an entirely different situation. In fact there's...” he looked around and whispered conspiratorially, “rumor of cheating! And you know a dyke isn't one to have her woman stolen from her. Oh no... She goes wild!”

Joker stalked over to the still girl patting her head. Soon the light would shine on her and his puppet would dance to the lines and songs she had learned. He had been right in saying she'd do perfectly.

“So watch her and her story unfold!”

.

8:36 pm

Adriana had no idea what was going on. None of her colleagues had ever worked as good as they were doing tonight, It was so too much for her to live up to. But as Mister Jay touched her head, she felt a thrill run through her veins. She could do this. It was all instinct. She knew what she was doing.

She rose as the light turned to her and the music began. Mr. J turned to take up his player's place, feet dangling as he sat at the edge of the stage. She moved her body, feeling the energy and the sway of the music.

She picked up the knife and held it close to her as she began to tell her story...

“...I wanted more than that- I wanted to watch him live and then torture him and then die and for her to watch it all!” She pointed to the tied girl before her (Anna). “I became his hunter, chasing him down and then finally bringing him before the rightful justice he deserved. He shouldn't have said yes- he knew we were together. HE KNEW!”

Anna actually flinched at her scream and a gasp came from somewhere within the crowd. She smirked and tapped the knife at her chin. Improv, Adriana- you have a talent there, use it, Mr. J had said.

“So now that he's gone, I need to punish her as well...” Adriana knelt down and pulled Anna into her lap, draping her across, splaying her fingers across the white expanse of her neck. “She's so pretty when she's being hurt you know...”

Anna let the knife nick the clothes first, delighting in the way the younger girl squirmed and writhed under her touch. Mr. J was right, this was fun. She dug the knife deeper into the skin and laughed at the way Anna screamed behind her gag- such a perfect performance!

.

8:46

Joker watched in amusement as the blood began to ooze further. Adriana licked it up, removing the gag and moving over to kiss Anna. And that's when she'll finally notice...

Joker giggled at the scream that ensued. Adriana's eyes flew open wildly, hands reaching out to curl around limp wrists. Sobs, tears and finally yes! Joker grinned at the brown eyes that darted to look at him. There it was- she was seeing now... But not for long.

The girl lifted the knife in her hand and uttering her last lines (“You did this...”) in Joker's direction, she sank the dagger in her chest.

He laughed and stood up, “see what I told you folks? Crazy! She knew what she was doing! She just didn't see, not many of you can either.”

‡

9:13

“Now, my turn!”

Bruce moved into the shadows of the box, retrieving the bag he had sent ahead. If Joker already knew who he was, then it wouldn't have mattered whether or not he had seen the suit- he probably expected it for his strange wild play.

“You see, I don't know how it happened or why it happened. I was just a runaway ya know? But I ran to the wrong part of the woods- literally!” Joker laughed. “I used to hang out with this guy. Sadistic guy I mean... he had issues. You think these people had issues?” Joker laughed pointing to the people behind him on the dark stage. “This guy had even more! So one night, we're up in the woods-” Bruce is moving out of the box now, back down to the lobby. “-we're up there and he's got this funk going on. I was always serious around him, so serious- I was a depressed emo runaway. So he decides he wants to see me smile. Just once. He takes his pocket knife and he does this to me!” Bruce emerged on the main floor watching as the clown pulled away at his skin, revealing his true scars beneath. “He did this to me! Yes, the cause for my insanity- yes him! And there he is!” Joker points at him. “He did this.”

‡

9:26 pm

Batman hit him across the face sending the giggles the other way. He loomed over the man, angrily

“You.”

“What about me?” Another giggle.

“You killed those people didn't you?!”

“Why-” laugh “whatever gave-” wheeze “you that idea?”

Slammed body to the floor, more wheezed laughter, and suddenly a strong grip lifted him up again. Well... isn't this familiar...?

“You are going back to Arkham, and this time you won't be getting a shrink.”

Oooh! There's that whispered growl again. Joker's sides trembled with suppresses laughter. Really Bruce? You still want to play that game?

He shook his head. Well the audience was still there, watching- perhaps a different audience yes, but an audience nonetheless. He licked his lips, and rolled his eyes up, mockingly.

“If you honestly think that's best Batsy... But really you know that place won't keep me there long. I'll get out...” He pressed himself forward, one leg curving deftly around the the other's. “And when I do, this place will still be the same hellhole of insects buzzing around in search of trash scraps.” He used the leg as leverage to pull himself up closer, arms coming up around the hands grabbing in his shirt. “But you'll be different won't you?” His tongue reached out to wet his lips again. “Those people...” he groaned at the delicious friction between his hips as he inched up higher. “...you should have known by now...” Joker's tongue moved slowly over the skip exposed to him, feeling the guardian's shiver as his muscle worked over the soft folds parted to the puffs of air sneaking between them. “...they were never dead.”

Joker felt one gloved hand let go of his shirt and move around his waist. He was suddenly shoved into the shadows, away from the pondering lights below. A noise of approval flew to his throat as a hand instantly came around to pull him close. He felt a mouth close over his ear, then down by his collarbone. He arched his back, exposing his neck fully and gasped as teeth sank into skin. In that moment, the stage and play between them was forgotten and it was just the two of them: Batman and Joker, here above Gotham, lights and people below forgotten, lost in the moment before they had to go.

Batman sucked hard and lifted up to breathe quietly, “I know.”

Joker's laugh became a purr as the man pulled him flush against his body with a low growl.




A/N: YES, I WAS TEMPTED TO WRITE THE ENTIRE GODDAMN PLAY COMPLETE WITH JOKER RECITING THE STAGE DIRECTIONS IN HIS HEAD BUT I RESISTED BECAUSE I NEEDED SLEEP. >_>;; also there might be a continuation idk but later laters- when I can actually spell continuation without help from spell checker. Oi vey. If you see any errors/mistakes/general suckiness point out my failure please so I can correct tomorow~




Like what you read? Friend madwanderer~♥