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There had been a pause in the flow of ghosts, witches, and teeny Batmen coming through Gotham Heights, so Priyanka took the opportunity to refill the pumpkin-shaped bowl and run to the bathroom. As she came out, she heard a rapping at the storm door and broke into a trot, holding her devil horn headband in her hair.
"Be right there!" she called.
Her husband was already coming out of the kitchen to play substitute, and she air-kissed him as she grabbed the candy bowl from his hands. She approached the door and noted these trick-or-treaters were tall, probably teenagers, though they actually dressed up. It was such a bummer when smartass highschoolers showed up in their street clothes with maybe a pair of fangs.
"Who do we have here?" she asked as she opened the door.
"Trick or treat!" cheered a daffodil. His thin body was covered by a green bodysuit, including gloves, though his flat shoes were brown. The flower's golden bell framed his yellow-painted face and the wide outer petals fanned out around his head. He carried a burlap tote bag for his candy.
"Hey, homemade!" Priyanka said, smiling back at him. "Great job, both of…"
The second outfit was a little confusing. This man also wore a blue body suit with matching gloves, and shoulder straps held a blue cardboard cylinder up around his body. On the front of the cylinder was a decal of a wavy-rayed sun. He had something shimmery bunched in his hand, but she was most interested in his face.
"Bruce Wayne?" she blurted out.
"No!" Daffodil exclaimed. "I told you, buddy. You have to be in character!"
Priyanka was still staring at Wayne– Bruce Wayne– when he glanced at his friend and heaved a silent sigh.
He propped his left arm up, hand where his hip would be. "Here is my handle," he said dully, then held out his right arm, hand holding a spray of opalescent streamers. "Here is my spout."
"Get it?" the flower asked cheerfully.
"Yes," Priyanka said, looking between the two men, grown men, but again, at least they were in costume– but again-again, one of them was a billionaire.
She held the bowl against her stomach and held up a hand as if to pause the lack of conversation. "I'm sorry. Can I just ask–"
"My friend here," Wayne said, arms falling back to his sides, "missed out on a lot of childhood memories. This one is worth having, I think, even at our age."
Oh, well, that was nice. And sad. But nice! Wow, she had been skeptical that Wayne was as charitable as the media claimed, but here he was walking around in a silly outfit to help someone reclaim a life experience.
Priyanka held the bowl out to Daffodil. "Then Happy Halloween! Take a handful."
"Don't mind if I do!" he said, waggling his fingers in the air before grabbing a bunch of fun-size bars.
She held the bowl out to Wayne next, but he declined.
"He's trying to watch his figure," the flower said, "until he sneaks from my stash."
Wayne looked at him with a small smile. "I would never." To Priyanka, he said, "Have a good night."
Daffodil turned with a happy chuckle and bounced away.
Wayne stopped him after a few steps. "John."
"Oh!" Daffodil did an about-face and smiled at Priyanka. "Thanks!"
"No problem," she replied with a wave. "Have a fun night!"
John waved back, and the two men walked away. Wayne's knees audibly knocked against the inside of his costume. From the back, John's hair was visible; he'd colored it green. What commitment!
"Pri!"
She turned. Her wide-eyed husband had stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway.
"You didn't want to come say hi to Bruce-freaking-Wayne?" she laughed with a lingering air of disbelief.
"No!" Viraj whispered even though they were alone. "Because his friend is that Joker guy!"
"The Joker?" She shook her head. "Come on, why would Bruce Wayne bring a criminal trick-or-treating? It was just some, I don't know, Make-A-Wish thing."
"You didn't recognize the voice? The chin?" Viraj pointed to the top of his head. "The hair?? They live together!"
Priyanka scowled. "Oh, come on. You gotta stop reading those gossip sites."
"Wayne called him 'John!'"
"Oooh, not a completely generic name!" She shook her head. "You're so gullible."
"I could do this all night!" John said, staring into his bag as he and Bruce walked.
"Curfew is in about twenty minutes," Bruce replied.
John stopped. "Uh, we're grown-ups, Bruce." He placed a hand on his chest. "And I am no longer subject to Arkham's schedule."
"That's true, but these houses aren't going to be keen on giving out candy once all the kids are gone."
John pouted. "Oh, right."
"I think you've just about filled that bag anyway." Bruce stopped at the corner, where a low curved wall fortified a raised part of someone's lawn. "Let's take a second before we call the car."
They sat on the wall– or rather, John sat and Bruce leaned against it. The can part of Bruce's costume was too long for him to sit without sliding the tube up, which would force his arms in the air and cover his face. The wall was tall enough that John was able to swing his feet back and forth. He plucked a couple nougat candies from his bag and handed Bruce one. They ate as they watched the lingering groups of kids slowly grow smaller down the surrounding streets. Their laughter gave way to the chirping cicadas.
John swallowed his mouthful and sighed happily. "Thanks for playing along, buddy. I know this isn't your type of costume."
Bruce shrugged. "A change of pace is nice."
"Oh? So you're gonna patrol in that?" John asked with a grin.
"Yeah, sure," Bruce said seriously, then thrust the streamers in John's face, shaking them. "Stop in the name of the law!"
"Bahhhhh!" John leaned back and swatted at the shimmering ribbons. His bag thunked onto the sidewalk.
"Give yourself up!"
"Never!"
John tried to yank the handle out of Bruce's hand, but only succeeded in starting a tug of war. He hopped to the ground to gain sure footing, and with a full-body spin and a twist of his wrist, the streamers were his. He pitched them into the street victoriously.
"Ah ha!" he cried, whirling back to Bruce.
Bruce grinned and grabbed John's shoulders. "You forget that I was after you," he said, leaning close for the taunt.
Very close, he realized. He could see the streaks of paint on John's skin, where the lines stopped just inside his lips.
John giggled, not looking away. His fingers twitched. "Well, you sure got me."
Bruce leaned closer.
"Hey."
The two men turned. Two staring children, one a bloody-mouthed vampire and the other a green dinosaur, stood just three feet away. A gaggle of their friends waited on the opposite corner. They all looked about twelve years old.
"Aren't you that Joker guy?" the vampire asked.
Bruce and John exchanged a look. They must have recognized John's voice, but why the hell were pre-teens more perceptive than grown-ups?
John pulled from Bruce's grip and stood as tall and dignified as a giant daffodil could. He nodded, petals bobbing.
"You are correct, young nosferatu," he said, ignoring Bruce's grimace, "but be assured that I have worked hard to leave those mistakes behind me. Acting out in anger can feel satisfying in the short term, but it can lead to long-term consequences, chiefly a loss of trust that you can interact safely with society. I hope to be an example for–"
"Yeah, okay," the vampire said, "but can you get the really high spots on this house?"
"What?"
The dinosaur pointed down the block. "Old Man Mudgeon's place," she said.
John peered in that direction and wrinkled his nose. "The house that gave out floss?"
The vampire nodded and unveiled a roll of toilet paper from his cape. "You're taller. You wanna help us?"
Before Bruce could say a word, John gasped and clapped his hands.
"Do I?!" he exclaimed, and suddenly he was running with the roll in his hand to the kids across the way.
"John!" Bruce burst as the vampire and dinosaur ran off too.
John didn't respond. He rounded the kids with excited whoops before leading the charge down the block.
Bruce clumsily tried to race after them, but his knees were hindered by the cardboard tube. He cursed and slowed to a trot, trying to pull his arms in so he could grab the bottom of the cylinder and throw it over his head.
Instead he missed a crack in the street, tripped, and flew face first into the pavement.
Pain flared in his nose, and he laid there, letting it burn away as he told himself that probably no one saw.
Then he lifted his head and found a tiny Batman standing over him, beating back his pride without a punch.
This kid seemed a little younger than the others. Their ill-fitting bodysuit was mostly hidden by the cape that draped over their shoulders and dragged on the ground. Their mask was just a plastic piece held by elastic around the upper half of their face; it had pointy ears on top and holes around the eyes. The kid held out their hands, one holding the spray of streamers and the other John's candy bag.
Bruce snorted lightly, then winced at the pain in his nose. He held his arms parallel to the ground and shimmied out of the tube.
"Thanks, Batman," he said as he got to his feet. He looped an arm through the shoulder straps of his costume and took the candy bag. He gestured with his head down the street. "Can I help you stop those kids from starting a life of crime?"
Batman's face broke into a grin, and they nodded before lifting the streamers over their head and running off. Bruce followed close behind.