Work Text:
It was a slow day for the two rogue’s tucked inside the musty garage, Jonathan leaning against the wall as he watched Edward work at the nearby desk, his nicely polished question-mark cane leaning against the wall beside him.
“Edward, y’ know I ‘ppreciate this and all, but I c’n just come by later?” Jonathan hummed, watching him tinker with the small device, poking a small tube into place.
“No,” Edward snapped quickly, ripping the tube back out and beginning to try to put it back in more precisely. He never was the type for mediocrity but for something like this, he couldn’t do a mediocre job. “Just wait a few more minutes, I’m really close."
“Y’ said that a half hour ago. I really don’t mind comin’ back.”
It was one of their little routine gift exchanges that occasionally followed one of them either requiring something from the other or one of them simply initiating it. This time, it had been Jonathan to initiate it, having freshly abandoned the Arkham Asylum only a few days prior and stolen Edward’s cane that had been confiscated during his capture, even having the heart to give it a quick wipe down before returning it to him today.
Much to his surprise, it had seemed as if Edward had already been in the process of making him a ‘break-out’ gift. How nice of him?
Now, however, he was rushing and Jonathan could see that it was frustrating the man.
“No, just wait. I have someone on the way to bring those specialized coils that I needed to finish it, if you can wait just a few more minutes, then you can leave with it,” Edward mumbled, brow furrowed as he continued to tinker.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. Coils, huh? So far, he had not been able to catch a real glance at the device over the other man’s shoulder and after having been shooed away from the desk last time he approached, he supposed the most he could do was stand here and wait for the other to finish. He gave a light sigh. Sometimes he did not find the other’s man’s dedication to perfection to be so appealing.
Almost as if on cue, there was a slight noise from the door of someone messing with the lock, drawing Jonathan’s eyes sharply to it and leading him to slide a syringe from his jacket in preparation.
When he was greeted with the smiling oaf that he had come to recognize to be one of Edward’s closest henchmen over the last few months, Tiedrich Kiemer, he was quick to tuck it into his palm.
“Fuck, sorry man, traffic is a bitch. Do you have any idea how many speed bumps there are from my house to here?” Tiedrich asked, shuffling through the door without even glancing to the two individuals. Hell, the man could probably walk into a bright room with Batman standing right in the center and not even notice until the last second. Jonathan could not fathom why Edward held so much preference for this man over the plenty of others that could do their job without a single word. Then again, Jonathan preferred to complete most of his work on his own, so he really wasn’t one to talk.
“There are three speed bumps on the route that you typically take,” Edward hummed, not even looking up as he held his hand out expectantly.
“I counted five. One of ‘em made a weird noise,” He mused as he closed and locked the door, turning back to the two and noticing the darkness. “Jesus fuckin’ christ, ya’ll scared of lights or something?” He asked, flicking the switch and frowning as the lights gave a slight flicker before returning to dimness. He glanced to Edward still at the desk and then Jonathan. “I’m guessing he hasn’t even noticed?”
“Noticed what?” Edward asked, still refusing to tear his focus away. “Forget it, can you just give me the damn coils?”
Tiedrich gave a snort of laughter and went to Edward’s side, the larger man reaching to his dirtied olive colored aviator jacket and tugging a brown paper bag folded around a rectangular item, dropping it into his hand. “1/4th, 1.5 inches.”
Edward snatched it from him, tearing it out of the bag, then trying to tug that the plastic on it before discovering it to be a bit harder than planned. With a sigh, Tiedrich plucked it from his hands and used his teeth to tear it open with ease, dropping it back in front of him and glancing to the device. “Damn, you’re kind of weak,” He said with a slight smirk, drawing his gaze away from the creation with little interest.
“I’d rather you didn’t get your disgusting slobber on my pieces. Give me the wipes.”
Tiedrich sighed and reached to the wipes sitting only a couple of feet away from the smaller man, setting them within his reach before glancing back to Jonathan and shaking his head with a slight smile. “Just can’t win with this man, huh?”
Jonathan merely watched him, syringe still tucked in his palm but just faintly peering out enough as a warning. He would much rather return to waiting awkwardly for Edward to finish in silence then have a conversation with this fool.
“You ain’t still mad about my dog, are you?” Tiedrich asked, gesturing briefly to Jonathan’s arm. “To be fair, you’re the one that didn’t take my advice to wear a thick coat when you came in.”
“How could I ‘ave known that disgustin’ creature would come outta’ nowhere and try to take m’ arm off?”
“Cause I fuckin’ warned you, my man,” Tiedrich said with a shrug. “On the bright side, at least it wasn’t a person.”
“Your neighborhood is disgusting,” Jonathan sharply replied.
A grin instantly spread across the larger man’s face before he snapped and pointed a finger gun at him. “Honey, don’t I know it!”
There was no point telling him off for the nicknames. He had already learned that each time he criticized them, they would only worsen. His first nickname has been Jon, then it was ‘bagface’ then ‘southern belle’, then ‘southern honey’, and only just recently had it shifted to ‘honey’. He would rather not know what else the simple man could come up with.
Jonathan sighed before glancing back to Edward, the foolish henchmen taking a slightly shuffled seat at a stool on the far side of the room. He was still working. He had said it would take minutes. Jonathan supposed that if you thought about it, even hours could technically be converted to minutes.
“Hey,” Tiedrich chirped, drawing Jonathan’s eye back to him in a stern gaze only reserved for the individuals he did not desire to continue a conversation with. Normally, this would shut them up immediately. For this man, however, it had no such effect. “You seen Harley at all recently? I tried calling her a few days ago but she wouldn’t answer.”
Jonathan felt his annoyance lower slightly. Harley, one of the few topics the two did not disagree on. “She’s been quiet f’r everyone. Even Isely ‘asn’t talked to her for a week.” While he wouldn’t admit it, he did care for the girl’s well-being. These days, with Joker being so active in the past month and gearing up for what was undoubtedly going to be an upcoming attack, there was no denying the likelihood that the girl had probably relapsed into her old ways of falling for the abusive man.
Jonathan tried to ignore the fact. She’d surface in a few weeks. Bruised and crying and messy, but she was able to handle herself.
Tiedrich’s mouth twitched down into a frown. “You don’t think it’s Joker again, do ya?”
“She’s an adult. She can make her own choices.” Jonathan calmly reasoned.
“Fuck that noise; as her father, it is respectfully my duty to go and beat the shit out of anyone who touches my fucking kiddos! I thought you a’ all people’d be into this,” Tiedrich snapped, volume raising sharply and causing Edward to swear as his hand jerked out a piece that he had just placed. After a short apology from Tiedrich, he casually continued with his voice lowered back to the dull roar he so often carried. “Come on man, let’s go invert his fuckin’ knees. Can do this shit Chicago style!” He shouted, expression plastered with a wide grin.
Jonathan’s frown deepened, one Tiedrich was not a parent, two, he had no understanding of what the man meant by ‘Chicago style’, but before he could point out one of the critical details, Edward beat him to it.
“Father? You’re not her parent and you don’t have kids,” Edward said sharply, glancing back to him briefly before looking back to his own work.
“Course I do!” He shouted, forgetting his volume again. “Who do you think reminds you to eat and you to not fucking lock yourself in a room with that dumb ‘bad-time gas’?” Tiedrich asked with a grin.
Jonathan’s eyebrow twitched. He hated how he referred to his creation, however, even he couldn’t deny the time when both he and Scarecrow had been so caught up in an experiment that they had forgotten the innate need for air that all humans possess. However, Edward forgetting to eat was a much more common issue that even he had occasionally called him on, so he couldn’t fault the man on that.
“That doesn’t make you my father. By that logic, I’d be your father!” Edward replied.
“Nu-uh.”
“Yes, who broke you out of Arkham after you gave yourself a concussion head-butting Red Hood?” Edward asked.
“I thought it was just made of plastic.”
“Who took the time to disable the security alarm when you took ‘get some money from the bank’ as ‘give them a note saying you were robbing them’.”
“That’s not fair, you know I failed my IQ test,” Tiedrich said with a slight pout.
“I still don’t even understand how you did that! You can’t fail an IQ test!”
“Maybe that’s cause you ain’t smart enough,” Tiedrich said, cracking another grin.
The room was filled with a pause of silence, even Jonathan understood that while Edward could take a small amount of teasing in some areas such as his ego or riddles, his intelligence was not something to poke at. Regardless of the silence, Edward and Tiedrich’s eyes locked with Edward giving him a fiery glare and the fool merely staring back with a smirk, Jonathan really wished he had just decided to come back later.
“Checkmate!” Tiedrich called out.
“You’re an idiot,” Edward snapped, spinning back around to his work.
“Damn, someone finally noticed!” Tiedrich shouted in mock surprise before giving a soft laugh. “Love me or hate me, I’m drafting up the adoption papers and faking your signatures. That’s gonna be yours,” He says, hopping off the stool and point at Edward. “Yours,” He adds, pointing at Jonathan. “Not the other guy though, he’s freaky,” He adds briefly while still pointing at Jonathan. “ — Harley, Ivy, and all the others. Not Joker though, he can get fucked.” He chirped finally as he approached the door, throwing it open and stepping through it before poking his head back in briefly. “Call me if ya’ need anything else, son!” He shouted to Edward.
“Go to hell,” An automatic reply that Jonathan only ever heard Edward say to that man.
Tiedrich gave a final grin before closing the door, Jonathan listening for a few minutes as he finally heard the familiar groan of a van sputtering to life and beginning to drive off. Silently, he glanced to Edward, recognizing him to be nowhere near finished. It seemed Jonathan would be here for eternity. “I don’t understand why y’ employ him,” He said as he finally tucked the syringe back away and folded his arms again.
Edward gave a slight sigh, pooling all his focus into his work again. “That, Jonathan dear, I wish I knew.”