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When the Joker first announced himself to the city, Batman was confused. The man was wearing a neon armband, light-up shoes, and a maniacal grin.
So all in all, he looked kind of dumb.
But it didn’t matter. Batman had a job to do, and the two chased each other over burning buildings and bursts of smoke. Every time Batman thought he’d cornered him, the Joker would dart out of his sight and reappear somewhere else. It was a little concerning, considering the Joker’s getup wasn’t the easiest to lose track of. Batman was starting to wonder if he was stealing his smoke bombs or something.
Not only that, but the Joker was the only one to actually―how to put this?―banter with him.
So, of course, Batman had to say something back. That was in the vigilante rule books, or something.
“You can’t keep running forever, Joker!” he called, scanning the environment for neon green. “You know that eventually I’ll get you!”
“Oh, really?” Joker leaped off of a crumbling stairwell and dropped in front of him, making Batman yelp. “And what makes you say that?”
“It’s not like it’s hard to find you,” Batman pointed out, “your costume is… kind of bright for a criminal.”
The Joker, instead of taking offense, giggled. A criminal was giggling at Batman.
He felt kind of insulted, actually.
“And you, a guy in a batsuit, look any better than me?” the Joker sauntered towards him.
“Well, yes,” Batman said defensively. The Joker shook his head.
“Hm, I don’t think so, Batsy.”
“Batsy?”
“Have a problem?” the Joker had leaned forward and whispered it in his ear, catching him so off guard that Batman had stumbled, fallen on his butt (though he’d later deny it), and let the Joker get away.
And then there was the time he’d gotten a call: a Z-Grade villain was robbing the local pet store, and they were armed. Police were outside, but they had been too afraid to enter.
Batman had done his usual dramatic entrance, not prepared for anything particular except maybe a stun gun and a knuckle-duster or two, and had frozen at the sight of the Joker.
“Z-Grade”, his butt. Batman was pretty sure that the Joker should be rated higher than that, even though all he’d really done so far was enter a bank ominously with some clown-masked cronies. And this.
“Joker, put the Chihuahua down,” Batman narrowed his eyes. Joker glanced from him to the small dog, then shook his head.
“Sorry, Batman, no can do at the moment,” he said uncomfortably, and gently placed the Chihuahua in a red wagon full of other confused animals. The Joker glanced around at the empty cages and headed for the only one left, a terribly scared tabby cat.
“Joker,” Batman repeated firmly, stepping in front of the cage. “I’m going to have to take force if you don’t stop right now.”
“Batman, this is not your business,” Joker said through clenched teeth. “Listen, I know you think I’m a bad guy, and you’re right, but I promise that this isn’t what you think it is.”
“Joker,”
“Batman,”
“Joker,”
“Bat―!” the Joker had lunged forward, snatched the cage, and danced out of Batman’s reach for the moment. Batman, swiping at him, barely missed the clown grabbing the wagon and tearing off.
With a grunt of exasperation, Batman headed out after him, and caught up with him in no time, even as the Joker launched various pieces of rubble at him.
“Listen, Bats―”
Batman dodged a brick and leaped for the wagon again. “Joker, come on!”
“You don’t know what you’re doing! This is important, all right?”
Batman shook his head. He didn’t know what nefarious plans the Joker had in store for these baby animals, but it couldn’t be good.
“Joker, could you stop breaking the law for one second?”
“No! Why won’t you just listen to me?”
“Because whatever you have to say isn’t gonna redeem you stealing a bunch of puppies!” Batman dove for the Joker and finally took him out, taking control of the wagon and launching it to a startled nearby officer.
The Joker wrenched himself from Batman’s grip, his eyes shimmering. He looked furious, an emotion Batman had never seen on him before.
“Batman, are you kidding me?”
“W―am I kidding you? You were the one robbing a pet store!”
“I can’t believe it! You didn’t even listen to me for one second, how were you supposed to know why I was doing it?”
“Wh―well―I,” Batman stammered. The Joker glared at him.
“Did you ever think there was a reason why I did this?”
“I just―”
“No! Because you never think!” the Joker, rearing up, stomped through the door and pushed over a few officers on his way out. Batman stood flabbergasted, wondering how this could possibly have gone so wrong.
Later, when Batman was reading the Gotham Gazette for his latest crime-fighting spree, he’d find out that the pet store was a front for a puppy mill, and that if Joker had succeeded in stealing the dogs, the puppy mill would have been left bankrupt and closed down.
Joker would reappear a few weeks later, acting like nothing was wrong.
Well, granted, he was holding a cartload of fireworks that were way too close to Gotham Bridge for comfort. The fireworks were set to go off any minute from now, but he had plenty of time.
They exchanged their usual banter, pursuing each other around the various boxes of explosives, until Batman would ask, “why fireworks?”
Joker shrugged, still bright-eyed, and grinned. “I figured I’d up the heat a bit. Get out of the kitchen if it’s too hot, you know?”
Batman mock-pondered this while flipping over a bench. “Huh, can’t really see that.”
“What? Why?” Joker squawked. He ducked as Batman threw a pair of handcuffs at him.
“Well, who could pay attention to the fireworks when there’s someone else way hotter here?” Batman grinned.
Okay, yes, he’d been practicing. But it was just an experiment! If Joker could say things to fluster him, so could Batman.
And Joker certainly was flustered. He looked around for a few moments, as if trying to see someone appear behind him, and finally pointed at himself and croaked, “me?”
Batman winked, darted behind him to secure the handcuffs, and dodged out of harm’s way. That move turned out to be completely unnecessary, as Joker, wide-eyed, would start laughing. Practically in stitches, Joker wouldn’t even stop guffawing when he was carted off to Arkham. Batman had, for once in his life, not quite known what to do, but had been pleased and flattered to see that, apparently, he’d taken it the right way.
Then there was Harley.
Batman didn’t have anything against her, really. It was just that the whole… dating thing had him on edge, and he didn’t know exactly why.
It was just their dumb pet names and synchronized explosions and how they seemed to do everything well together, and it got under his skin. It felt like a punch in the gut, and as he complained to Alfred about it, he figured it was just that he was fighting two bad guys instead of one, yeah, that was the reason he hated it.
But as he fought them more, he wasn’t sure that was why. Sure, there were bigger operations to handle now that the two had joined forces, but it wasn’t the same.
But later, he’d fought Joker on his own, and Joker had told him, while jumping over a trap, that he and Harley had broken up.
“But we’re still on good terms,” he’d added, “she and Ivy are doing great!”
“Oh,” Batman said, relieved, and chased after Joker some more. “That’s… good.”
“You seem happy about it,” the Joker grinned, “why so?”
“I wanted you all to myself,” Batman threw caution to the wind and skidded on an expertly-timed banana peel. He looked up in time to see Joker blushing, a sight that he didn’t think he was going to live through, because it was way too adorable for him to handle.
Batman threw a grenade and called for backup.
It was a regular fight. Joker had threatened to hold a building hostage, and the Bat-signal had been flipped. Along with the Babs-signal. And the Robin-signal.
So Batman had put Babs and Robin in charge of civilians, while he went out to pursue the Joker, who had a threatening-looking red remote in his hand.
He and the Joker had been wrestling for the same remote, which was scattered across the floor, and both were intent on stopping the other from getting it first.
Of course, they were exchanging the same banter. The situation wasn’t terribly worrying―not that he’d ever tell the Joker that―so Batman was easily countering Joker’s remarks with flirting of his own.
Batman had the Joker pinned against a wall, and was about to dive for the remote, when the clown did some sort of complicated-looking movement, and suddenly the tables were turned, and Batman was fixed against the wall instead.
For the first time, Joker let go. Batman’s arms were released, but he didn’t retaliate. In fact, Batman didn’t do anything at all.
It was the Joker that kissed him.
And it was the Joker that pulled away, looking frantic, and disappeared in a smoke bomb.
“Wait, Joker, w―!” Batman, coming to his senses, started forward, and lost the Joker in between miniature explosions.
Batman found the Joker later on his nightly patrol, on the edge of the same building, muttering to himself.
“Joker.”
The Joker whipped around wildly and sputtered unintelligibly, before finally getting out a “B-Batman!”
Batman didn’t know what to say.
“About that―you don’t have to―I―” Joker stammered.
“Joker,” Batman repeated softly. He sat next to the anxious clown. “It was… okay.”
Joker looked up, wide-eyed. “Wait―really? ”
“Just, um, ask. Next time.” Batman clarified. His burning blush normally would’ve convinced him to look away, but he was still gazing into Joker’s brown eyes like there was no tomorrow. He offered a smile that turned to a goofy grin.
“Would you want to try that again?”
Joker gave him a genuine smile that made little butterflies―or bats?―erupt in his stomach.
“Absolutely, batsy.”
Their first kiss tasted like sweat and lipstick and lobster thermidor, but it was perfect.
Joker draped his arms around Batman’s shoulders.
“Is this okay?” he mumbled, letting his head rest against Batman’s forehead.
“Yeah,” Batman muttered back. They rocked, back and forth, for a time, before Joker looked up with fresh questions.
“Bats… what are we doing?”
Batman gave a half-sigh, half-laugh. “You think I know, Clown Prince?”
Joker snorted. “That’s my press name. My friends call me Jokes.”
“Nobody has ever called you that.”
“Yeah, they have,”
“No, they haven't,”
“Yeah, they have.”
Batman gave up with an exasperated groan. He lapsed into thoughtful silence.
“...Joker?”
“Yes?”
“Would you―would you want to come over for dinner?”
Batman can only imagine the chaos Robin and Joker will cause together, and the knowing looks of Alfred, but he could feel the Joker’s grin a mile away.
“Definitely.”