Ballroom Blitz (PG-13) (c)

by **rock and/or roll** Sat 03 Jan 2009, 12:05 am

Title: Ballroom Blitz
Author: Me (Smashed Pumpkin)
Rating: PG-13 : some violence.
Pairing: the Joker/Batman
Status: One-shot/Complete
Summary: The clown and the Bat gatecrash.

Note: written for a challenge a friend set me.

Ballroom Blitz.

Heavily defined eyes stared out at the extravagant room. The dull grey walls were brought to life with the illumination of antique chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, showering light over the spruced up guests. Long tables cloaked in beautiful lace were against the far wall and smaller rounder tables had been dotted around the dance floor. The man in the purple suit observed keenly from his hidden location. His wider than normal smile stretched the width of his face maniacally as he waited.

A resounding thud hit his ears. The doors to the ball room had been flung open, a man dressed all in black, caped and face masked standing in the frame.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the Batman announced in his gravely voice, “but there’s a clown on the loose that needs to be put back in its box.”

The clown laughed, stepping out from the shadows, a sinister sequence of hahaha, hehehehe, heeheehee. The Bat’s eyes met the clown’s as Commissioner Gordon sprung to action, frantic voice calling out for all armed police officers to stand at attention. They responded obediently, tugging firearms out of holsters and nervously awaiting The Joker’s next move.

“You know, you never fail to meet my expectations,” the made-up man mocked, a gleeful smile morphing his twisted features. He stepped down the thickly carpeted stairs slowly. The police officers tightened their grip on the guns in their perspiring hands, but appeared too fearful of what the clown might have hidden under his jacket to make a definite move.

Both sets of eyes never left the other’s. The Joker continued to step towards the Batman, a scraggly head of hair moving through the open sea of space like a sharp-toothed shark swimming at its leisure. The Batman was paralysed, transfixed by the Joker’s intense stare, almost tentative to go on the offensive and stuff him back through the doors of Arkham. Lost in unsure thoughts, he let down his guard. The Joker latched on to his wrist and pulled him closer. Hot air would have hit the masked man’s neck had he been without his black suit. And he could almost feel it; a terrible searing sensation but with a strange feeling of…arousal?

“I could put on a nurse’s dress to make things more interesting,” he hissed in a heavy whisper. “Maybe make things a little livelier in here.”

Batman forcefully wrenched his limb out of the Joker’s tight grasp and managed to land a well aimed punch into the clown’s stomach. But it was within just a few moments and a short struggle that The Joker had the upper hand. The caped man lay concussed on the sleek floor.

The victor surveyed the room, the police officers still with fear, and cracked a gigantic smile. Scars showed through the red.

“Anyone have a pencil?” he asked, deformed mouth smirking. “I’ll show you a magic trick.”

He was merely playing with them. Making them sweat before the big Bang.