overlithe (overlithe) wrote in batmanjoker, @ 2009-05-01 14:33:00 |
|
|||
Current location: | USA |
Current music: | Sex Pistols--Submission |
Entry tags: | author: ragcat, chaptered story: the date, fanfic, knight vs anarchy round 8, rating: pg13, team anarchy |
Team Anarchy--Round 8--"The Date" (Fic)
Original poster: ragcat
Title: "The Date"
Author: Ragcat
Prompt: "All the world's a stage and the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts."--As You Like It
Word Count: 2059
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, Joker, or any DC Comics or Nolanverse anything.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some language, adult situation
Summary: Bruce Wayne decides to make a date, but isn't ready for what--or who--he gets.
Link to "The Date, Part II":
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Link to "The Date, Part III":
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Link to "The Date, Part IV":
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Link to "The Date, Part V":
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Link to "The Date, Part VI:"
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Link to "The Date, Part VII:"
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Link to "The Date, Part VIII:
http://community.livejournal.com/batman
* * *
"Good afternoon, Arturo's Day or Night Escort Agency, this is Donna, how may I help you?"
"Yes...I'd like a, um, date...for this evening, uh, please...."
"Yes, sir! I can help you with that. Male or female?"
"Uh...well...male, I guess...."
"Certainly, sir. Any physical preferences?"
"Ah...what? I'm sorry, I've never done this before...."
"I understand, sir. I was asking if you have any particular preferences for physical characteristics, you know, height, weight, hair or eye color...."
"Oh! Uh, no, not really...I mean...well...maybe not too short. Or too, you know, heavy...."
"Uh-huh. Tall and skinny?"
"Yeah! That sounds good...."
"Dark hair or blond?"
"I don't care...um, blond, maybe...."
"Right. What price range did you have in mind?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, a basic escort for the evening is $300.00. If you wish to have additional private time with your date, that will be $1000.00, plus tip. That fee entitles you to a full spectrum of services. We call it the "Enchilada Grande" package."
(silence)
"Sir?"
"Uh...."
"Now, that does not include any S&M or B&D type activities, for that I'll need to give you a different number, let's see, that's 555-1...."
"NO! No, no, I just...."
"We do have a less expensive package, the "Mini-Taco", would you like for me to go over that with you?"
"No, uh, money isn't the issue...look, do I have to decide that now?"
"Yes sir, but there's a money-back guarantee if you're not happy with our choice of escort."
"Oh, ok. Well, the whole, uh, enchilada thing, then...."
"All right. If you'll give me your name and credit card number...."
"Uh...Bruce. Bruce...Smith."
* * *
That night, Bruce waited anxiously in the hotel room for his date to show up. He had never done such a thing before; even now, he was regretting making the bold move. Hiring an escort seemed so sleazy, so chicken-shit; why couldn't he be a man about it and just go to a gay bar and pick someone up?
No. He didn't have the courage. Besides, there was far more risk of exposure, even if he went someplace far out of town. And, besides, there was the threat of real danger--picking up a strange man in a bar was a good way to get himself mugged, robbed, even killed, and defending himself would lead to police involvement...the agency promised screened, bonded escorts, completely safe, completely secure. That was a comfort for Bruce, who was already apprehensive, contemplating his first time with a man.
He didn't want to get Batman involved.
This was for him, Bruce Wayne, and for him alone. A secret performance that would be known only to one other person besides himself. This was Bruce's chance to find out what he had suspected for a long time--a chance to find out if he was only playing a role when he took those lovely, expensive, unsatisfying women to bed. A chance to learn the truth about himself....
A sharp knock on the door shook him from his reverie. Damn it. Why had he done this? Idiot. I shouldn't have done it...nervously, Bruce strode to the door, hesitating just for a moment before flinging it open. It was now or never, sink or swim, do...or die....He opened the door.
Before he could even speak, Bruce gaped, stunned.
"Took ya long enough. I haven't got all night."
The man slouching irritably before him was exactly as promised by the service--a tall skinny blond. However, they had failed to make note of the horrid scars that lined the sides of his face, deep slashes on either side of his mouth. They had also neglected to mention that the man was a criminal mastermind. Or that he was likely to be armed with guns, knives, and/or explosives. OR, and this was not the least of Bruce's concerns, that he would be an impatient, smart-mouthed son-of-a-bitch.
They had failed to mention that he would be the Joker.
Bruce stared. The man wore no make up and he was wearing a nondescript shirt, sport jacket and jeans, but there was no mistaking those scars. Or, that sneering, condescending half-grin. The billionaire realized he couldn't admit he knew who the man was, or he would risk revealing his true identity. And, he was not prepared to go to battle with his arch nemesis, especially since the villain now knew that Bruce had called for a male escort. All he could do was step aside and allow his date for the evening to come in, and hope he could find a way to gracefully get himself out of this mess.
"Hello...." he said nervously.
"Yeah, hiya. So, what's up, Charlie? Got a big evening ahead of us, do we? Where you wanna go? The theatre? Opera, perhaps? We going to a teahouse afterwards to have cold cucumber sandwiches and petits-fours, huh?" The obnoxious little bastard spoke in an overly-solicitous, sneering tone, and he snickered as he held his hand up with his little finger outstretched in a mockery of a prim and genteel gesture.
"Uh...no. Actually, I wasn't planning to go out...."
"No? I'm an escort, see, I'm paid to escort you someplace. Unless you just wanna stay around here and fuck...."
"Well...."
"Oh, I get it. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, that kind of thing. Well, good, I wasn't in the mood for socializing anyway...." The surprisingly handsome blond threw himself on the bed with the TV remote in hand, switched on the set and began flipping channels as if he owned the place.
"Socializing?"
"Yeah, a rich nancy-boy like you's always got some posh affair to go to, right? I figured it was leather night down at the club and you needed some arm-candy, heh-heh."
"You know, I've never done anything like this before in my life!" Bruce exclaimed, aggrieved at the implication.
The Joker turned to actually look at his date for the first time that night. He looked him up and down, regarding him with a combination of pity and distaste.
"Waaaait a minute...did you hire me to pop your cherry? 'Cause I didn't sign up for that...."
"I...uh...look, this was a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake..."
"I mean, I can do it, but I'm gonna have to charge ya extra...."
"No, really, forget it...."
"No, it's ok, it's just kind of a pain in the ass, so to speak, ha-ha...what with all the crying and hand-holding, 'now, just relax, it won't hurt as much as you think it will,' etc. etc. Time-consuming, you know?"
"NO! JUST FORGET IT! Really, please, just go, I've changed my mind...."
"Oh really? What'sa matter, you don't like me or something?"
"It's not that...."
"Aw, is it the scars? Hey, wanna know how I got 'em?"
"No! Look, let's just call this even, here, here's a tip, you go on home and no hard feelings, ok?"
"Are you kidding? I have to get you to fill out a comment card after we're done, I don't want my rating to go down. Come on, give me a chance to make this right, am I not dressed up enough or something? They didn't tell me what to wear...."
"NO, really, it's not you, it's me, I just...like I said, this was a mistake, please, just leave, ok? I'll fill out your card and give you a good rating, don't worry...."
"What, for doin' nothing? What kind of chump are you, anyway? They're going to charge you full price if you do that...."
"That's ok, I don't care...."
"Ah-ha-ha, a rich fucker, huh? You're sayin' you'd rather get rooked out of a grand than take a roll in the hay with me? Look, pal, I didn't come here to be insulted. I want to know what's wrong with me that you're too good to get laid all of a sudden."
"Really, it's nothing to do with you!" Bruce lied. "I just, you know, changed my mind...."
"Heeey...are you really a virgin?" asked the Joker, pointing a finger suspiciously at his host.
Bruce turned his head and didn't answer.
"Aww...you are, aren't ya? Jeeze, I thought you were kidding...listen, I'm sorry. Really. It must of been hard for you to make that phone call, and here I am raggin' on you, givin' you a bunch of shit for being such a pathetic little queer and all..."
"No, no, it's ok, just go, please..."
"NO! No. Absolutely not. I feel terrible! Let me make it up to ya, come on over here with me, big guy...." The Joker gave a disarming grin and patted the bed next to him invitingly.
"No, that's ok...."
"Uh-uh, I'm not leaving until we work this out. I take pride in my work, you know? I've never had a dissatisfied customer! Now, come on, sit down here and let's see what we can do about this situation."
"Really, I've totally changed my mind...."
"Naw, you've just got cold feet. Perfectly understandable. It's tough, comin' outta the closet at your age!"
"My...age?"
"Uh...never mind, look, come on! Come on...that's it, sit right here, nice and comfy. Right next to ol' Uncle J." He winked slyly, smiled a rather disturbing smile, and held his arm out in a welcoming gesture. Numb, Bruce found himself hesitantly taking a seat next to his "guest".
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Uh...no, I guess not."
"Sure, we'll just take it easy, no hurry, huh? Get to know each other a little bit...." With that, the Joker lunged at the dark-haired man and gave him a big, sloppy kiss. Bruce flailed about with his arms for a moment before relaxing into the embrace, finding the blond's warm mouth to be rather enticing. But when the Joker's tongue reached the back of his throat, Bruce pulled away.
"Now, just a minute! I thought we were going to go slowly...."
"Well...yeah, I mean, starting off with a kiss is pretty slow in my book. You're really freaked out, aren't ya? Ok, let me think...hey, how about a hand job, that's pretty non-invasive...."
"Uh...no, that's ok." Bruce was now utterly confused, torn between the fear of the unknown, his horror at discovering his date's true identity, and being intrigued by what had already been a rather pleasurable sample of the kind of forbidden activity by which he had been tormented for so many years.
"Maybe we could just...hold each other?" he asked hopefully.
The Joker stared at him in consternation.
"Aw, shit. You know, I gotta be honest with ya, pal, this isn't really my thing. I'm kind of a 'get this show on the road' kind of guy, I've got two more dates for the evening, an old lady and a regular, and you're going to throw me off schedule. Listen, how 'bout we take a rain check, ok?"
"Rain check?"
"Yeah. Here's my card...." The Joker pulled a playing card out of his jacket pocket, a "Joker" card with a phone number jotted on it in red ink. At least, Bruce assumed it was ink.
"Think it over and give me a call when you want to, you know, consummate the deal. It's ok, I won't charge you any extra. We'll take our time, maybe get some room service, and when I'm done with ya, you'll be ready to make the rounds with the pretty boys down on 53rd Street, huh? Whattya say?"
"Well...I'll think about it."
"Sure, why the hell not? Listen, I'm gonna go, but fill this out for me, will ya? If I don't bring this back, they don't give me my commission." He handed Bruce a comment card. Bruce took a pen out of the nightstand drawer and hastily checked all the "excellent" boxes, signed his fake name and handed it back.
"Thanks, uh, 'Bruce', I really appreciate it. Now, you mentioned something about a tip...."
"Oh, yes, here. Thanks."
"Great! All right, well, have a nice evening, and don't wait too long to give me a call...I'm a busy guy, you know, but I'll fit ya in."
"Ok."
With a wave of his hand, the blond assassin shambled out of Bruce's hotel room.
Bruce stared at the card with distaste and crumpled it into a ball. He dropped it in the waste can.
After a few moments, he retrieved it, smoothed it out, and stuck it in his wallet.
Maybe he'd just had a bad case of stage fright.