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Jervis Tetch didn’t know what to expect with the impromptu invitation he had received from his flatmate. When asked earlier if the professor would have desired him making anything special for dinner in celebration of the American holiday, the offer had been met with an eye roll. No offense was taken over the matter-- the Englishman hadn’t been looking forward to procuring classic staples such as ‘the hot dog’ and ‘hamburger’, anyhow. His nose had even scrunched in distaste when he attempted to do research on different cuisines, horrified at how many different dishes were referred to as ‘salads’ when they were anything but . STILL , it was fine . It was the thought that counted, and he was more than pleased to provide a corned beef dinner-- something far more palatable.
Yet, Hatter was certainly confused; after having believed his dear friend wasn’t the slightest bit patriotic for his country, Jonathan had turned the tables upon him once more. The man’s suggestion of watching the fireworks later that evening was… surprising. Welcomed, for sure, yet…
Again , very puzzling.
Jervis did his best not to think the matter over too deeply, even as he looked through his wardrobe to see what would fit the occasion. A part of him had wondered, as the two ate their meal, if Jonathan was at all aware of how the Hatter’s heart hammered in his chest fiercely from anticipation .
It was only after the professor had placed his silverware across his plate-- indication of being full and done with dinner-- did his gaze matched the Englishman’s. The candle placed upon the table reflected into the taller man’s eyes, equally glinting with a spirit of mischief, as he asked:
“ Ready? ”
And just like that, the two had set off, leaving their precious factory turned home and into the streets of Gotham. Jervis has asked on a few occasions where, exactly, they were headed; each time his companion reassuring him that he ‘would see’. Up hills, down hills. Turning corners, and waiting for permission to cross the roads as they blended within the crowds of people-- the holiday causing the streets to be busier than usual, even for the hopping metropolis. Hatter was starting to grow weary after an hour of walking, and was oh so wanting to complain just the littlest amount. Still , he held his tongue: the promise of a surprise more than making up for his aching and weary feet.
The more sentimental part of him also whispered the fact that he would readily walk to the end of the earth if his hare so much asked.
It was just when the Englishman was beginning to think their trekking would never cease , that it did . So quickly and suddenly, as Crane, with a tilt of his head, indicated up ahead.
"Here we are, Crown Point. On the bay..." He gestured out toward the water with an outstretched arm. "and the most breathtaking view of the fireworks you'll find in the entire city. Shall we?"
Crane held out his hand, a bold move perhaps, but their situation had become a sort of game he was no longer hesitant to take part in. How far would he be permitted to go before Jervis caught on? How long would the Englishman allow himself to believe they were merely friends, doing friend activities? How many times would he be able to flirt with the man before he stopped brushing them off as jokes?
Surely, a romantic night of fireworks over the bay would open his eyes.
Jervis looked at the hand offered very quizzically at first, taking him far too long to process the fact that he was supposed to grasp onto it. An offering of affection. Hatter did a sudden intake of air through his nose, it giving off a soft whistle that more than likely couldn’t be heard over the traffic and other people passing by. He could feel his face growing flush, even as the fluttering feelings took hold of him.
No … he was looking far too much into the gesture, Hatter scolded himself. It was yet another case of seeing romance where it didn’t belong-- his rose tinted glasses forever being his downfall. Jonathan more than likely saw this as a tactical move on his part. There were quite a few groups of people about, it made more sense for them to stick as close together as possible, as they maneuvered themselves over towards the pedestrian crossing of the bridge.
Yet… Perhaps it was Jervis’ own sense of selfishness that allowed him to grasp on-- taking the extra step of working on settling into the professor’s side.
“ Do lead the way, “ Jervis encouraged, using the moment to intently focus on the crowds-- suddenly growing demure after such a bold act.
The closeness caused Crane to smirk, unable to hide it even if he'd bothered to try. Just a couple of friends, avoiding bumping into the crowds, certainly. Crane rolled his eyes, but the smirk remained as he led his partner for the evening up onto the pedestrian walkway, not stopping until they were nearly half way across.
Crane leaned against the railing, gazing out onto the water. The sun was just disappearing over the horizon.
"I don't imagine we'll be waiting long."
“I don’t mind the waiting, Hare.” Jervis responds, still remaining close despite there being plenty of room within their pocket of the crowd. His brain supplies the Wonderlandian argument of the matter, it momentarily causing him to smile as his gaze fell towards the scenic view below. “It gives us ample amount of time to take in the summer night breeze. Before you have us take the mimsy jaunt all the way back home, you know.”
He framed it as teasing, though he supposed it did count as his complaint of the evening.
Jervis could hear the sounds of youthful giggling, a tilt of his head seeing a mother tenderly lighting a sparkler her daughter was holding. The young miss couldn’t have been more than four, her eager encouragement for her mother to get on with it all loud even over among the noise. Hatter hummed in amusement at seeing her cry out in alarm, laughter following as she waved it about.
The Englishman shook his head, watching the civilians that surrounded them. He became aware how many of them were couples-- all on a spectrum of ages. Younger ones being a bit more handsy in public, as Jervis forced himself to look away when he noted a pair kissing tenderly to his right. He looked again at Jonathan, the taller man still gazing out at the water below-- seemingly unaware of the people surrounding them.
Oh, if only Hatter could be equally as ignorant about how romantic their current setting was. He squirmed for a moment, arms resting across his chest before finally settling on leaning against the rail with his companion.
“Have you done this before?” Jervis finally dared to ask, needing a distraction. “That is, watch the show from here. You never quite took me as the type to enjoy engaging in such fanciful follies. Unless you were the one causing the ruckus to begin with.” He added as an afterthought.
Jonathan glanced over at Jervis from the corner of his eye, reluctantly. He'd spotted Jervis watching the woman and her child wistfully, before turning back to stare at the water, instead, feeling mildly annoyed.
"On accident, once. I spent quite a few lonely nights out here after I was fired. I did my best plotting out here, despite the traffic."
A short pause, before adding:
"You know, we could always adopt, if it means that much to you." Too on the nose? Perhaps. Toss in a joke, make this insensitive rather than awkward , he hadn't been serious, anyway. "It might be nice to hear the little pitter-patter of feet around the factory."
The Mad Hatter’s eye became very wide upon hearing this, doing a double take as he stared down at the man next to him. It had been a sudden change in topic, and it was only a moment afterwards that he realized Jonathan must have caught him observing the family from earlier.
Jervis pouted indignantly, harrumphing as he looked away.
“Oh, you don’t mean that. You could hardly stand the pitter-patter of paws about your burrow; I fear where you might send a child away to!”
The joking airs about the Englishman quickly turned more somber, as he thought about the matter over. Another query came to mind, not too far away from the topic at hand.
“You… think it’s silly, my wishing to have a piece of that sort of normalcy, don’t you? A desire to create my very own household someday.” Jervis looked down at his gloved covered hands, wringing them slightly in his nervousness as he decided to ask another far more intimate question. “Jonathan… Back before… well, simply before , did you ever have any aspirations along those lines? To have a family of your own to come home to, after a particularly long and trying day at the university?”
Crane actually laughed at this, a short cackle at the memory the question brought to mind. Now he turned to face Jervis fully.
"You know, the first time I attempted to win over a lady, I was oh, maybe eleven. I brought her a small black ring case, with a spider inside. I was very proud of it, I thought she'd find it funny!" More laughter, more of a chuckle this time. "She didn't." He continued, with a shrug. "She chucked that ring box at me so hard I had a black eye for days!" Another chuckle, and then a long, dramatic sigh, as he turned back to gaze out across the bay again.
"My second and final attempt, well. I was in college this time. She laughed in my face, told me she'd rather kiss a dead rat than get coffee with me. A simple no would have sufficed, you know. So no, Jervis, a family of my own was never really in my sights, so to speak. As for you... I believe there's still a chance for you. But if it's a nice little house on a hill, a lovely wife, a child or two, a white picket fence and a dog in the yard you're after … you won't find it here." He gestured widely at the scene around them.
"Gotham is a city that doesn't forgive, and it certainly doesn't forget . "
Jonathan’s answer was along the lines of what Jervis had expected, it being followed by a forlorn feeling. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Not only falling for a such a man as he, but one who didn’t even begin to share similar yearnings. Was it really so hard to imagine, the idea of someone like the professor sitting by a quaint little fire, telling a ghost story or two to a couple of little ones of their own? … It was a lovely mental image, but not one he could see being a possibility-- even on the off chance the two of them ever did start courting. Jonathan Crane, or perhaps more like the Scarecrow , was a being that seemingly would haunt the streets of Gotham forever more.
A ghoul until the bitter end.
Jervis tried to imagine the alternative: the very life his hare had described to him. He could easily picture how the fantasy of it would delight him. Of course it did, had he not mentioned desires along those lines before? Hatter tried to put a face onto the fictional woman in question, once more going through his catalog of female friends he could possibly see himself happy with: if, by some chance, the stars had aligned themselves differently.
In the end the Englishman looked back at Jonathan: once more his heart aching at the fact he only had eyes for him .
Jervis heavily shook his head.
“It’s for the best, you know. As I don’t see myself being ready to forget Gotham quite so soon.” The city nor the people that lived there. Jervis placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder, leaning in slightly to cozy up on his person. If he wasn’t allowed to have this forever, perhaps he should selfishly take what he wanted while he still could.
“Besides,” he added, “one can’t help but wonder where that would leave you . Why, you’d be positively miserable without me, you know. Left in a terrible state, without a single piece of washed clothing to call your own. Oh , it’s enough to make me shudder from the mere thought alone!” The serious expression he placed upon his face crumbled with a laugh, a hand covering his grin. “No… That settles the matter then. I must stay around a while longer, for your own good.”
A crooked smile and a raised brow was Jonathan's contribution to the merry laughter. He couldn't deny it, even if Jervis hadn't been joking; he'd been a wreck in the man's temporary absence.
But Jervis' words were … comforting, whether they were genuine or not.
"Oh, thank heavens." He reached an arm around Jervis' midsection, pulling him in the short remaining distance between them, just as the first fireworks lit up the Gotham sky,
"Nevar hates it so when we argue."
Sparks, however, weren’t only lighting up the night. Jervis had gasped, face becoming just as crimson as the fireworks crackling to life. He grew quiet, forgetting to breathe as he looked at the sky-- his mind, however, being far more focused on the hand on his hip.
Even with a few layers in between, Hatter swore he could feel the heat of Jonathan’s palm and nimble fingers through his vest and trousers.
Another series of fireworks lit up the sky: this time bursts of red, white and blue that spread in a way that offhandedly reminded the Englishman of chrysanthemums. Jervis forced himself to pull in air, despite his lungs’ protest, exhaling slowly as he willed his body to loosen its rigid form. To help make himself more comfortable, he drifted closer-- allowing his head to rest upon his companion’s shoulder. It wasn’t exactly comfortable , mind you, not with the way the man’s bones jutted beneath his skin with very little to cushion the jabs.
Yet, there Hatter remained as the two continued to watch another rocket take off.
“ ...This is lovely. ”
Soft, murmured into his hare’s side-- the wheezing and crackling of the fireworks more than drowning him out. It was not known if Jonathan Crane had heard him over the excitement.
And in the end he supposed it didn’t really matter.