FIC [JL] Checkmates and Balances
Title: Checkmates and Balances
Author: Misha
Rating: PG
Fandom: Justice League
Spoilers: "A Better World"
Summary: The Joker gets a visitor
Length: 800 words
Disclaimer: I don't own the universe and characters. I’m just playing with them.
Author’s Note: For Te's "A Better World" ficathon.
Feedback: Relished at mishamcm@livejournal.com
Copyright (c) December 2003 Misha
It is evening in Arkham Asylum. The halls echo with his footsteps as the warden returns to his office. He surveys the room and breaks into a smile.
"Someone's been sitting in my chair."
The Batman emerges from the shadows. "Good evening, Joker."
"Is it that time already?" He picks up the P.A. mike and flicks the switch.
"Nighty-night time, everyone! Off to beddy-bye."
On the wall monitor glowing red dots sort themselves into their individual cells.
"Lights out, ladies and gents." He flicks the switches locking each cell and dimming the lights.
"There we go, Batsie. Each and every one, snug as a bug in a rug." Suddenly the Joker's smile vanishes, his voice turns crisp and humorless. "Although the bugs are all subcutaneous, and there are no rugs." The smile returns. "But still snug, eh?"
The Batman smiles almost imperceptibly. "Not a creature stirring."
"No spoons!" The Joker laughs and slaps his side. "No forks or knives, either. Much too pointy. Wouldn't want an accident, now would we?"
"I brought you some dessert." The Batman reveals a round white plastic container and opens it.
"Oooh! A Banana Side-Splitter! I can't remember the last time I had one of these."
The Batman's quantum smile darkens. "No, I suppose you can't."
"Well, make yourself comfy, Brucie. Put up your feet. Give the cowl a rest."
"No, thank you."
The Joker's voice turns a shade sharper. "Aww, Brucie doesn't come out much these days, does he? How long has it been?"
The Batman is silent.
All jollity again, the Joker says, "Well, the chessboard's all set." The Joker snatches up the white queen and holds his hands behind his back. "Black or white, left or right, bottom's up, might makes right!"
The Batman sighs. "Right."
The Joker reveals his empty hand with a flourish. "A great big bag of nothing, eh, Batsie? I guess you're black."
"As always."
They play at breakneck speed. The Joker breaks the silence.
"I've got a new one for you. What walks on four legs at dawn, two legs at midday, and three legs at dusk?"
The Batman smiles a bit more. "Riddle of the Sphinx. Man crawls as a baby, walks on two legs as an adult, and walks with a cane as an old man."
"Not quite. At dusk he's sowing his wild oats. He's got a wild night ahead, eh?"
The Batman chuckles. "You got me."
"I guess Brucie doesn't get out on the town much anymore." Serious again. "How long has it been, old man? Just speaking man to man, you know."
"I've been busy."
"Come now, Bats. Even Superman's got his main squeeze."
"I doubt there's much squeezing going on."
And the levity returns, lighting up the Joker's face. "Ho ho ho ho ho! Nary a quid for Auntie Jane, nary a squeeze for Lois Lane! They're so Huis Clos, wouldn't you say?"
The Batman's eyes study the board. "In what way?"
The Batman doesn't even flinch anymore when the Joker turns serious. "You know, like Garcin and Inez. She despises him, but he needs her, because only by convincing her can he be saved."
"Jean-Paul Sartre had too much time on his hands."
The Joker laughs uproariously. "Not like us! Busy as bumble-bats!"
"Everyone has their own hell."
"Oh ho ho, yes! But mine's full of laughs." The Joker's face suddenly turns serious. "She misses you, you know. Just sits there all day, petting her kitty. You should go see her."
"I don't think so."
"Tsk tsk. Old love-em-and-leave-em Brucie Wayne strikes again."
"Check."
Another flurry of chess moves. The tap-tap-tap of the pieces on the board echoes like footsteps.
"Checkity-check!" Tap-tap-tap.
"Check."
"Checkipoo!"
"Check."
"Checkers and mate, mate!"
"Well played."
"I suppose it's time for me to pop into the old coffin myself."
"Just one more question." The Batman always has one more question, these days. Then again, he always had a question for the Joker, ever since they started their nightly chess games. It's just that now, the question is always the same.
"What should I do with them?"
The Joker considers. The Batman doesn't really know which one he wants to answer, the serious Joker or the whimsical one. He's not sure which one is more sane.
As if sanity mattered any more.
He's heard dozens of answers from each, and he still keeps asking, as if he expected that one day he'd hear an answer that satisfied him.
The Joker bursts into song. "Put 'em in the scuppers with the hose-pipe on 'em, ear-lye in the morning!"
He's heard worse suggestions.
Author: Misha
Rating: PG
Fandom: Justice League
Spoilers: "A Better World"
Summary: The Joker gets a visitor
Length: 800 words
Disclaimer: I don't own the universe and characters. I’m just playing with them.
Author’s Note: For Te's "A Better World" ficathon.
Feedback: Relished at mishamcm@livejournal.com
Copyright (c) December 2003 Misha
It is evening in Arkham Asylum. The halls echo with his footsteps as the warden returns to his office. He surveys the room and breaks into a smile.
"Someone's been sitting in my chair."
The Batman emerges from the shadows. "Good evening, Joker."
"Is it that time already?" He picks up the P.A. mike and flicks the switch.
"Nighty-night time, everyone! Off to beddy-bye."
On the wall monitor glowing red dots sort themselves into their individual cells.
"Lights out, ladies and gents." He flicks the switches locking each cell and dimming the lights.
"There we go, Batsie. Each and every one, snug as a bug in a rug." Suddenly the Joker's smile vanishes, his voice turns crisp and humorless. "Although the bugs are all subcutaneous, and there are no rugs." The smile returns. "But still snug, eh?"
The Batman smiles almost imperceptibly. "Not a creature stirring."
"No spoons!" The Joker laughs and slaps his side. "No forks or knives, either. Much too pointy. Wouldn't want an accident, now would we?"
"I brought you some dessert." The Batman reveals a round white plastic container and opens it.
"Oooh! A Banana Side-Splitter! I can't remember the last time I had one of these."
The Batman's quantum smile darkens. "No, I suppose you can't."
"Well, make yourself comfy, Brucie. Put up your feet. Give the cowl a rest."
"No, thank you."
The Joker's voice turns a shade sharper. "Aww, Brucie doesn't come out much these days, does he? How long has it been?"
The Batman is silent.
All jollity again, the Joker says, "Well, the chessboard's all set." The Joker snatches up the white queen and holds his hands behind his back. "Black or white, left or right, bottom's up, might makes right!"
The Batman sighs. "Right."
The Joker reveals his empty hand with a flourish. "A great big bag of nothing, eh, Batsie? I guess you're black."
"As always."
They play at breakneck speed. The Joker breaks the silence.
"I've got a new one for you. What walks on four legs at dawn, two legs at midday, and three legs at dusk?"
The Batman smiles a bit more. "Riddle of the Sphinx. Man crawls as a baby, walks on two legs as an adult, and walks with a cane as an old man."
"Not quite. At dusk he's sowing his wild oats. He's got a wild night ahead, eh?"
The Batman chuckles. "You got me."
"I guess Brucie doesn't get out on the town much anymore." Serious again. "How long has it been, old man? Just speaking man to man, you know."
"I've been busy."
"Come now, Bats. Even Superman's got his main squeeze."
"I doubt there's much squeezing going on."
And the levity returns, lighting up the Joker's face. "Ho ho ho ho ho! Nary a quid for Auntie Jane, nary a squeeze for Lois Lane! They're so Huis Clos, wouldn't you say?"
The Batman's eyes study the board. "In what way?"
The Batman doesn't even flinch anymore when the Joker turns serious. "You know, like Garcin and Inez. She despises him, but he needs her, because only by convincing her can he be saved."
"Jean-Paul Sartre had too much time on his hands."
The Joker laughs uproariously. "Not like us! Busy as bumble-bats!"
"Everyone has their own hell."
"Oh ho ho, yes! But mine's full of laughs." The Joker's face suddenly turns serious. "She misses you, you know. Just sits there all day, petting her kitty. You should go see her."
"I don't think so."
"Tsk tsk. Old love-em-and-leave-em Brucie Wayne strikes again."
"Check."
Another flurry of chess moves. The tap-tap-tap of the pieces on the board echoes like footsteps.
"Checkity-check!" Tap-tap-tap.
"Check."
"Checkipoo!"
"Check."
"Checkers and mate, mate!"
"Well played."
"I suppose it's time for me to pop into the old coffin myself."
"Just one more question." The Batman always has one more question, these days. Then again, he always had a question for the Joker, ever since they started their nightly chess games. It's just that now, the question is always the same.
"What should I do with them?"
The Joker considers. The Batman doesn't really know which one he wants to answer, the serious Joker or the whimsical one. He's not sure which one is more sane.
As if sanity mattered any more.
He's heard dozens of answers from each, and he still keeps asking, as if he expected that one day he'd hear an answer that satisfied him.
The Joker bursts into song. "Put 'em in the scuppers with the hose-pipe on 'em, ear-lye in the morning!"
He's heard worse suggestions.