Who: Batman and Joker What: Make-up sex. Warnings: Violence. (And the sex. No, not really. Ohoho, yes. No, no. No means yes in Metaland!)
Batman had returned to New York. His leg had healed enough that he could walk without the cane. It took a madman to go from walking with a cane to patrolling in one leap. He was out of shape and out of practice. Still, there was something rejuvenating about being in the driver's seat of the Batmobile again. He sped down the streets of the city, looking for things out of the ordinary. They were in abundance tonight. With thirty years of relative peace and quiet he had nearly forgotten about the occasional curve balls this universe liked to throw at it's inhabitants.
His usual practice of avoiding causing fatalities didn't work against these monsters. You couldn't send a zombie to Arkham. He was out of his element in more dimensions than just the physical. Seeing a horde of zombies heading toward a group of would-be victims, Batman laid on the gas pedal, speeding up and crashing into the undead throng. With the zombies incapacitated or dead--he wasn't going to get out to check--the bystanders ran off into the shelter of a nearby building.