Not Done Yet

In the largest, most luxurious corner office on the top of Wayne Tower, the one with the best view and the full bar, Bruce Wayne sat slumped at his desk. He was listlessly scrolling through the unending column of emails that had been steadily cropping up over the course of the last week, blissfully unnoticed by their recipient, while at the same time ruining his posture, his phone jammed against his ear as he caught up on voice mail.

Bruce had formally taken a week off from being Batman, but he had only mentally taken a week off from being Bruce Wayne. The world of commerce had definitely not ground to a halt just because the handsome young billionaire was enjoying having an escaped mental patient in his home after a year of nothing but furtive visits to the asylum and longing daydreams.

It had been far too pleasant finally waking up with Jack to bother going out into the cold morning air of Gotham and heading to his office. Bruce had quickly discovered that, although Jack was apparently determined to spurn his affection in the dark, he was perversely interested in getting as close to him as possible in those first drowsy moments of dawn....

He would scramble over next to a soundly sleeping Bruce and, using his hands or his mouth or his body, seductively bring his partner to consciousness in such a way that they were soon making love, slowly and sleepily at first, then building to a fever pitch, after which they would either drowsily fall back to sleep, or end up in a lively argument such as this one, on their first morning together at Bruce's place:

"Hey, Bruce, get Jeeves to bring us some breakfast, will ya? I'm in the mood for some bacon and eggs, toast, and, uh, oh yeah, maybe waffles? Or, a bear claw. Or...oh, how about a blueberry muffin? What do you like, big guy? I can negotiate on the sweet stuff." The Joker was lounging comfortably, lying on his back, using Bruce's chest as a pillow.

Bruce had sighed, gathering his fortitude to explain how things were to a man who had very little concern for...how things were. He stopped playing with the Joker's hair and began the recitation.

"In the first place, it's Alfred, not Jeeves--I want you to start showing some respect for him. In the second place, I only very occasionally ask him to bring breakfast up, I don't expect him to wait on me--or you--hand and foot. In the third place, I haven't yet explained to Alfred why I haven't asked him to freshen up the guest room and I'm not really prepared to have him come up to find us like...this. And, finally, I don't eat like that anymore. The best you can hope for is oatmeal and fresh fruit, and we'll have to go downstairs to get that."

The Joker had sat up and stared at him in consternation.

"You mean to tell me you've got dough comin' out the wazoo and I can't get a lousy cup of coffee in bed? What's the point?"

And so on.

Yes, it had also been way too much fun spending those first days discovering more about the Joker's intelligence, humor, and wonderfully bizarre personality to bother donning a sharp Italian-made suit so that Bruce could drag himself into the office on a warm Gotham afternoon.

The two had quickly taken to reading the paper together, playing chess or pool for hours, talking about books, music and movies, arguing over same, as well as watching the vast variety of inane TV shows the Joker was addicted to. He appreciated everything from ancient reruns of situation comedies and westerns to Saturday morning cartoons, to cheap horror and sci-fi nonsense. Bruce had always studiously avoided such brain-rotting fare, even as a child, and was both amused and slightly disturbed to find the Joker taking them all quite seriously.

"No, no, no, no, Brucie, you're not keeping an open mind. The episode where Harpo Marx guests on 'I Love Lucy' is sheer genius...just watch!"

"Sheer waste of time, if you ask me," Bruce intoned over his Wall Street Journal, but he was carefully keeping an eye on the TV screen when he thought Jack wasn't looking. His crafty nonchalance was betrayed when both men broke into laughter following the "mirror" gag.

"Ha ha, see, you enjoyed that!" chortled Jack triumphantly.

"Ok, ok, I'll give you that, it was pretty funny. But, it's still amazing to me that someone as intelligent as you are considers this nonsense to be of any merit whatsoever."

"Oh, lighten up, Bat-brain. You're gonna discover your inner clown one of these days, and I'm gonna help you."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

But even the pleasure of his new-found domestic bliss couldn't keep Bruce away from the office for very long, and now he found himself on the phone to Rachel, returning her slightly petulant voice mail.

"Hello, Rachel Dawes here."

"Hi Rach, it's Bruce."

"Well, it's about time! I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth."

"No, no, I've just been...taking a little time for myself. But I'm back now, and completely snowed under...."

"Yeah, I know how it is getting back after taking some time off. Actually, I'm proud of you, you're the one who never takes a break."

"Well, I'm going to try to change that, at least a little. There's definitely more to life than work...."

"Ooo, Bruce! Sounds like you're having some romance in your life, huh?"

Bruce hastily cast about in his mind for another plausible explanation.

"Hardly that! I've just...rekindled my interest in, uh, the arts, I'm considering investing in a media company, you know, television, film, things like that..." Bruce rolled his eyes at the lameness of his story.

"Oh. Well, that's...interesting, sounds...relaxing."

"Mmm...how have you been?"

"Aughhh, you wouldn't believe everything that's been happening around here. We could do an entire episode of "World's Dumbest Criminals" right here in Gotham."

"Jim Gordon's boys been busy, huh?" he asked, somewhat amused.

"Oh, yes. It's like Gotham's miscreants don't know how to commit a proper crime anymore. Speaking of which, has there been any progress on the Joker case?"

"No, nothing that I'm aware of," Bruce responded somewhat curtly.

"Oh, sorry. I know that's a sore subject for you."

Bruce was glad Rachel couldn't see his grin. Jack took great delight in complaining about being 'sore' from his and Bruce's adventures in bed. Yet, somehow he never seemed reluctant to participate....

"Well, I hate to say 'I told you so', but, dammit, I told you so! I knew that maniac would end up double-crossing the one person in Gotham willing to give him a chance, and boy, did he ever."

"Yes...well, as long as he's not causing mayhem, I guess I'm willing to ignore the situation for the time being. If, as you say, all the criminals are floundering around without his expertise to guide them, then that's not so bad."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, who knows what he's up to! Gotham could be at the greatest risk it's ever faced! Aren't you even a little bit concerned?"

"Of course! I'm just saying, it's been, you know, quiet for a while. Maybe he's left town or something."

"Looking for a new target, hm?"

"Who knows? Look, Rach, I've got a mountain of work to do, would you mind...."

"Yes, yes, I know, you're swamped...hey, maybe we can go to lunch sometime? Or, you could come for dinner! Harvey would love to see you...."

"Sure, honey, we'll do something. I'll give you a call."

"Ok, well, you better. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Bruce hung up the phone and stared thoughtfully at his desk. So, without the Joker to set a bad example and escalate the level of criminal activity over the last year or so, things had become fairly dull and routine for the police department. It did seem odd that Jack had apparently lost all interest in playing cat and mouse with the cops.

But, Bruce had been carefully monitoring the household computer system, the telephone, and the security cameras and had not been able to detect any sign of illicit mischief from his mercurial house guest.

Alfred gave him a complete report whenever Bruce had to be out, and apparently, the only odd behavior Jack ever exhibited was to restlessly roam around the house on occasion before retiring to Bruce's bedroom, where Bruce had discreetly installed a camera system which only he had control of or access to. He had briefly thought of videotaping his and Jack's romantic activities, but decided he wouldn't stoop to that. He only wanted to be sure the Joker was behaving properly, or at least that he was staying put, in Bruce's absence.

He had learned that Jack conked out every afternoon around two or three o'clock, due to the effect of his medications, and stayed asleep for at least two hours. He had made it a habit to check the cameras during the Joker's down time, at first because he genuinely did not trust him, then, later, because it had become a routine. The Joker slept soundly at those times and Bruce often had to roust him into consciousness so that he would be alert enough to come down for dinner.

Try as he might, Bruce could find no fault with the Joker's behavior, other than a lot of recreational complaining, outrageous demands (Bruce was willing to indulge Jack's interests in just about anything, but he had to be careful not to let him order materials over the Internet that could be used in making explosive devices. It was amazing the uses the Joker could find for seemingly the most innocuous items).

He excelled at mess-making, and enjoyed peppering Bruce with veiled insults that sometimes didn't hit the billionaire's consciousness until he had already gone into the office. But he could live with that. He just had to be sure that Jack was maintaining his own well-being, while at the same time not compromising the safety and security of Gotham City. A tall order, but one that was apparently coming along rather well....

* * *

A kind of routine emerged. Bruce went to work; Batman went out as necessary. The Joker mightily complained of boredom and neglect; but in reality he was grateful for having time to get a handle on his life in a calm, structured and loving environment--without the clinical constraints of living in an asylum.

He would never admit it to Bruce, but, for the most part...he was finding himself feeling...happy. It was almost unbelievable to him, but he was strangely content. He liked it when Bruce was at home, but he kind of liked being by himself, too. He was making it work, much to his own surprise, and he gradually gave up on the idea of leaving any time soon....

* * *

And, Bruce did his best to keep things interesting for his "guest".

One night, the Joker was quietly reading on the couch. Bruce snuck in, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, turned him around and planted a deep kiss on his mouth, causing the unpredictable mental patient to struggle in an attempt at bashing his loving assailant over the head with his book. Bruce managed to disarm him, and laughing heartily, wrestled him down so that he could easily straddle him.

"Ya know, Bats, one of these days you're going to regret making a move like that on me..." the Joker warned from his defensive position, not entirely kidding.

"Yeah, but it's so much fun in the meantime," Bruce rejoined, leaning down to give him another kiss. This time, Jack's arms went around him and he kissed back, but Bruce could feel the adrenaline-induced tension lingering in Jack's taut body. For a fleeting moment, he felt bad for having startled him.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were heavily medicated enough to handle surprise attacks?"

"I'm just telling ya, I'm beginning to be inclined to slip a steak knife in my pocket when yer not looking. If this keeps up...."

"Ok, ok, I'll stop. I just like...playing with you," Bruce confessed.

"Oh, well, there's other ways to do that without you ending up with a shiv jammed in your throat..."

"Well, maybe we should head upstairs so you can show me--without giving Alfred a heart attack."

"Wouldn't want that...." Jack agreed sarcastically.

"Hey, I thought you liked him...."

"Oh, I do. I'm just not used to having Granddad hangin' around when I want to get laid...."

"Be nice...."

"Yeah, I'll do that...when we get upstairs!"

* * *

The pair sauntered up to the bedroom in order to take care of their lustful urges, but things didn't go quite the way Bruce expected. After undressing, he found himself on his back with the Joker on top on top of him, wedging his erection between Bruce's legs, apparently intent on doing something the brunet was utterly unprepared for.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"Heh heh, I've noticed you've been a little too serious lately, Brucie. You're like a coiled spring! But that's all right because Doctor J's got a treatment in store for you, I think you'll feel much better once it's done...now, just relax, this won't hurt a bit, at least not if I do it right...." Jack was industriously attempting to push Bruce's legs up to his shoulders....

"Get off of me," ordered a non-too pleased Bruce.

"Uh-uh. Sorry, gorgeous, it's time for the ol' switcheroo, and I'd suggest you go along with it because I'm sure you don't want to hurt my feelings, right? Aaand...you don't want me to just, ya know, hurt you..."

"No, thanks, not interested. Now, get off." With that, Bruce easily dispatched his suitor with a hard shove, depositing him onto the bed, flat on his back.

"Ok, obviously I haven't explained myself well enough," reasoned the Joker as he pulled himself up and attempted to reclaim his position. "Let me go over some of the finer points of the procedure, I'm just going to insert my..."

"I get the idea, Joker, and it's not happening, so just forget it!"

"Oh, really. So, that's how it is. No give and take in this relationship, no sir. Would you mind explaining to me how come I'm the one on the bottom all the time? I mean, who made that rule? You've fucked me, oh, about nine hundred million times; I really think, in the spirit of fairness, that now it's my turn, just this once at least..."

"You're on the bottom because you like it, you insane little faggot," Bruce commented tiredly.

"I do like it, but that's not all I like, and by the way, if you want to trade insults, it takes one to know one, asshole...."

"Getting sodomized by you is not my idea of a good time, sorry."

"Well, who do you want to get sodomized by? Come on, Bruce, are you seriously expecting me to believe it's never crossed your mind? You've never once wondered what it would be like to..."

"NO! I'm perfectly content with things the way they are, now come here and..."

"Oh, no you don't. I'm not giving it up unless you try being on the receiving end for a change--just once!"

They stared at each other defiantly, both of their amorous intentions temporarily replaced by the sheer struggle for domination. Bruce finally broke the tense silence.

"Ok, here's my offer. If you can keep me pinned down for the count of three--that's a full count, you know, one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, like that--then, well, ok, I'll give it a...try."

"You're not a team player, Bats. You kind of outweigh me, how the hell am I supposed to..."

"That's my offer, take it or leave it...."

"Fine. I'll see what I can do." The Joker calmly leaned over, grabbed a heavy crystal clock that sat on Bruce's nightstand, and brought it down in a vicious arc, almost making contact with Bruce's head, but his hand was stopped by the bigger man's lightening quick reflex.

Bruce wrestled the clock away, attempting to set it back on the nightstand, but it slipped off onto the floor. By this time, both men were laughing, but the fate of the clock irritated Bruce.

"Dammit, Jack, that belonged to my grandfather!" Bruce groused as he hung over the side of the bed to reclaim it, and after ascertaining that it hadn't been damaged, he set it back on the nightstand when he suddenly felt a slender, well-lubed finger enter him from behind.

"Dammit! What the hell....!?"

"You're not playing fair, and I won't either. Now, just relax, take it for a test drive, see what you think...the terms are very flexible..." The Joker was now on Bruce's back, biting into his neck, causing shivers to run down his back, and what was being done in his nether region was actually beginning to feel very nice.

Meeting little resistance, Jack continued his seduction, and before too long, had gained grudging permission from a writhing Bruce to do exactly what he had wanted to do all along.

"On your hands and knees..." the ex-clown whispered commandingly. Bruce turned his head and gave him a fevered look, then complied. Jack knelt behind him, smiling evilly, and after applying a generous portion of lubricant, gave a healthy thrust into his lover and waited for his response.

"Oh, God..." Bruce groaned.

"That's Jack, to you..." he grinned. "How you doin', there? Is life as you know it now over?"

"I'm...ok...it feels...weird," Bruce muttered.

"Mmm. Well, let's keep going, shall we?" Without waiting for a response, he thrust in a little deeper, winning a surprised grunt from Bruce, and they continued in that fashion until the Joker's erection was entirely buried inside his rather disinclined lover.

"Ok?" Jack asked.

"Unh...yeah, I guess...good thing for me that you have such a tiny dick..."

"Yeah, let's see how tiny you think it is by the time I get through with you...." Jack rejoined in amusement, pulling back and driving into him with a little more enthusiasm than Bruce would have preferred at that point.

When the Joker was done, Bruce turned over gingerly and lay quietly on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, unable to form actual words. His orgasm had overwhelmed him, leaving him feeling warm, floating...perfect. A little sore--he'd been joking about the size of Jack's penis--but...perfect.

His lover, too sated to gloat, was in much the same condition. Bruce was suddenly aware of Jack's fingertips lightly tracing a path down his arm, ending at his hand, which the blond man tightly grasped. Bruce squeezed back, and then moved closer to the other until Jack slipped his arm around the broad shoulders. His post-orgasmic daze had passed and he was ready to start razzing Bruce with some triumphant banter.

"So, angel-pants...ready to don a mini-skirt and halter top, or have I inadvertently sent you screaming into the night, looking for a nice bit of het-affirming pussy?"

"Neither. That...that really wasn't so bad, actually," Bruce finally murmured into the Joker's chest.

"Yeeaahh...I've definitely had worse...." he agreed.

Bruce rolled his eyes and started to pull away, but Jack held him close.

"Don't...I'm just kidding. That was amazing...."

"It was...fucking wonderful...."

"Intense..."

"Mind-altering...listen, I don't ever again want to hear you say that I don't trust you...."

Jack laughed. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't relax entirely, big guy, I was goin' easy on ya because it was your first time. Next time, heh, things might get a little rough...." the Joker promised, teasingly.

"What makes you so sure there'll be a next time?" asked Bruce menacingly.

"The fact that you haven't rearranged my face indicates that ya kinda liked it...." the Joker responded with a devilish wink.

"Hmm. I guess you're getting to know me better than I thought."

"Sure! See, there's still lots of stuff we can do together to keep me busy...."

"Great. All right, I'm exhausted. Good night, you bastard."

" 'Night, you fuckin' queer."

"I may have to kill you now...."

"Ah, ah, ah, you'd miss me, baby...you don't want to have to go out and find a stranger to fuck ya, now that you've developed the taste for it...."

"I haven't, and anyway, I couldn't find anyone stranger than you...."

The two grinned at each other. Jack gave Bruce a hasty kiss on the nose and scrambled over to his side of the big bed. For a long moment, Bruce stared up at the ceiling before whispering, "What the hell..." to himself, rolling over and grabbing Jack as though he were a cuddly, if bony, teddy bear.

"Oh, crap," said Jack, rolling his eyes in defeat. He considered trying to struggle out of the embrace, but finally gave up and settled for the warm, suffocating arms of his lover rather than the cold, blessed solitude of the chaise lounge. Give and take, give and take...he could play this game, he supposed.

For now.