Svengali [DC/Batman]

Bruce Wayne sometimes wondered if anyone else in Gotham was capable of pattern recognition. The Gotham Botanical Society, despite having essentially compatible goals as Dr. Isley, had been the target of her ire and misplaced misanthropy more times than any other organization with the exception of Batman himself. And yet here they were, with their spring dedicational, having a big garden party despite knowing full well that the aforementioned Dr. Isley was still on the loose. She would probably attack, accusing them of being hypocrites for serving a vegetarian spread.

Bruce didn’t even like these events. He much preferred to just donate money from the privacy of the Batcave and be done with it, Bruce Wayne cover persona or not. The only bright side was that Selena Kyle had shown up, alone, and was apparently doing some quiet surveillance of some particularly wealthy gothamites. Much like window shopping, but for a professional thief.

Of course, they were obligated to flirt with each other, which they proceeded to do, even as he kept a dutiful eye out for any red-haired botanophiles.

Sometimes it’s good to be the goddamn Batman.

He wasn’t expecting the classical music to suddenly change, however.



One of the caterers, a tall, thin fellow who had just came in from the catering trucks at the loading dock, suddenly whipped his tear away uniform off and shucked a full head mask before plopping a metal pot down over his green hair, the handle pointed sideways at a jaunty angle.

“Oh, no.” Bruce would have disappeared right then and there, but there were no less than four disguised henchmen between him and any exit. He’d have to bide his time and look for an opening.

“Greetings, herbi-bores and herbi-vettes!” Joker announced, throwing his arms wide and balancing on one leg as around him the other caterers shed their uniforms and put on grey-green zombie masks. “Pop a Cap Catering is delighted to bring you some extra spice to that bland meal of vegetables you’ve all been enjoying!”

Bruce immediately slipped a general purpose antidote out of his pocket and ate it, quietly passing a second to Selena. Around them, there were gasps and tiny, aborted screams. Gotham’s citizens were remarkably jaded, but the Joker wasn’t something you just brushed off.

“Now, I have no opinion on your little horticultural society, but I do have a complaint about the scheduling!” the pot wearing clown continued as Harley Quinn came up to stand with him.

Joker suddenly paused his speech, sweeping the crowd with a mad glare. “Am I and Batman the only two goddamn people in Gotham capable of basic pattern recognition? You’re having a garden party? With Poison Ivy on the loose? What the hell, Gotham?”

Bruce nearly lost his composure. But not so much that he didn’t hit the button on a hidden emergency alert in his pocket, which should alert Oracle and start a rescue.

The Joker was suddenly all smiles again. “But that’s okay. Foolish, but okay. Because! Because. The lovely Ms. Ivy is besties with my girl Harley here, but I must confess to a certain amount of, shall we say, friction with the woman. But all that’s gonna change! I can’t be fightin’ with Harley’s bestie! So we’re going to put on an event for dear Pammie and show her I mean to let bygones be bygones!” He paused again, winking at the crowd.

“Tell me, have any of you ever heard of… Plants vs Zombies?”

There was a general mutter across the crowd indicating that, no, no they had not.

Joker seemed pretty disappointed, but recovered quickly. “Alright, too much to ask old rich people. My fault for assuming. Anyway. Zombies want brains, animated plants fight them off. It’s pretty simple, but surprisingly addictive. Since Pammie’s specialty is animated plants, well, that just means I have to provide the zombies!”

“That’s youse guys,” Harley added in a stage whisper.

“I figured, no one wants real zombies. They’re kind of out of style these days. But alternative takes on them are still popular! Well I sat right down and I made a special formulation of my trademarked SmileX! Turns you right into a shuffling, giggling zombie!” His expression clouded over with sudden rage. “But that dastardly do-gooding Batman had to go and ruin my chemistry set!”

Batman had done no such thing.

“SO!” Joker grinned, and this was a real, manic, face stretching Joker grin. “We’re going to not poison you, and say we did.”

“You heard him, people! Start zombiein’!” Harley shouted.

“We’ve got your flags, your traffic cones, and your buckets right under these carts,” Joker added, yanking the covering from a serving cart off it and revealing the hidden props. “Pick what you want, or go au-unnaturale! I don’t care! Having trouble getting in the mood? We got cauliflower by the bucket! Certified organic, vegan brains! Try it with ranch!” He popped a white floret in his mouth and chewed enthusiastically. “Better than your fancy horror do overs, I’ll bet!”

“Bruce,” Selina hissed.

“What?” he asked quietly, his eyes picking out as many details as possible as he built a plan.

“What the hell?”

“I have no idea,” he replied, still quiet.

Harley chivied the partygoers into a rough line, all while handing out a bizzare mixture of healthy snacks and random props. Thousand dollar haircuts were stuffed beneath grimy plastic traffic cones. Ranch was squirted into plastic cups. Septigenarian blue haired ladies waved tiny triangular flags with pictures of brains on them.

No one had died yet.

“Brucie? BRUCIE!” the Joker burst out suddenly, just as Bruce had managed to work his way into an area of the crowd that hid him from most of the henchmen. “Bruce Wayne! Ayy, Brucie! I haven’t seen you since the last time I took you hostage!”

Bruce pasted a sickly smile on his face as the Joker barged through the crowd of people and clapped a hand on each side of his shoulders. “Hi, Joker. Fancy seeing you here,” he croaked nervously.

“Mmm, yes, a bit of a fancy affair,” Joker agreed. “Harley! When was the last time we took Bruce Wayne hostage?”

Harley stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes in concentration. “Ah, I think it was June of last year? The auction with that thing that time?”

“The thing, yeah! So how you been, Bruce? Not getting kidnapped by anyone else I hope?”

Bruce winced.

“Oh no! Who was it?” The Joker seemed genuinely concerned.

“Scarecrow.”

Joker nodded. “Crane is a dick.”

Bruce just chuckled weakly.

“I mean, come on, his whole thing is fear, and he’s not even the second scariest guy in Gotham. It’s pathetic. Just pathetic.” Joker waved Harley over. “Hey, Harls, keep an eye on Brucie here, okay? Make sure he’s fine. We’ve got enough zombies, and I don’t think Pammie would take kindly to him if she saw him.”

Bruce made weak murmurs of thanks as Harley Quinn bounced three steps and pressed his arm into her cleavage.

“Hiya, Bruce. Here with anyone?”

He carefully didn’t look at where Selena was trying to unobtrusively slide away, but Harley looked at her anyway.

A moment’s thought decided that she’d be more suspicious if he denied it, so he truthfully admitted, “No, though I did meet an old friend here I was talking to.”

Harley squinted at Selena, then waved her forward, releasing Bruce’s arm. “Youse don’t have to be shy, come on back over. I ain’t gonna bite ya! Any friend of Brucie is a friend o’ ours!”

Selena reluctantly came back over and took Harley’s offered hand. “Miss Quinn. Or will it be Mrs. Joker?”

“Nah, Puddin’ ain’t popped the question yet. With one thing or another… Well, you know how it is.”

“Indeed.”

Away from their little clique, Joker was cheerfully harranging the faux zombies into rows. Bruce watched as he threw a friendly arm around a tiny septagenarian and chivied her into place with a relative minimum of threat.

Not to say that it was without threat. You could see it in their eyes, the nervous shuffling, and the way he occasionally tugged at the lapels of his jacket, drawing the eye to his infamous posey.

Compared to his usual menace, however, it was practically full of bonhomie.

Harley tugged Bruce’s head down and quietly hissed a warning in his ear. “Do you know who she really is? That’s Catwoman!”

He nodded back, a little surprised that Harley had recognized her, but then, thanks to some of Selena’s less advised adventures, you could find out her secret identity if you knew where to look.

That seemed to take Harley aback, and she released his collar and gave him a considering look.

Selena, who’d over heard the hiss, gave her a level, challenging stare.

“Huh. Well howaboutthat.” She rubbed her chin. “Well, at least she’s probably fun, and definitely a better choice than those floozies you usually have hanging off ya.” Abrubtly, she grinned, and slapped him on the back. “Hey, so you do have good taste after all! I owe Puddin’ a coke!”

“Thanks?”

“So what is this… thing Joker has going on here?” Selena inquired pointedly.

Harley shrugged. “I dunno. When he was in Arkham last month, they put him on a new drug. I was set to get pretty mad, because it should have been a lethal dose for anybody else, but Doctor Porter must have done some research on Mistah J, and actually found something that seems to be working. He’s been a lot niceah. Far as I know, ya know, this really is just his way of trying ta be friends with Pammie.”

Bruce exchanged glances with Selena. The Joker. Being nice. Ish. Almost certainly part of a larger plot. That being said, he saw no deceit in Miss Quinn’s demeanor.

Troubling.

Distant sounds of sliding and shuffling drew their attention, all three having senses honed sharp by experience. Bruce kept his alarm hidden, but the two women looked up.

“She’s hee~ere,” Joker announced delightedly.

Sure enough, Poison Ivy, aka Pamela Isley, came into view, riding on an animated treelike being which looked much like an ent made of vines. Around her shuffled more, smaller animated plants.

She looked furious.

“JOKER! What are you doing here, you oafish clown! The protection of plants is my duty!”

Come to think of it, Bruce mused, most of Gotham’s theme criminals did seem pretty protective of their scene. Joker should have known this was going to happen.

“Now now, Pammie, don’t get mad! I set this up for you! It’s Plants vs Zombies! You know, just like that phone game that guard was playing in Arkham? You’ve got the plants, I’ve got the zombies!” He made a grand gesture at his unwilling army of the (nearly) dead. “Come on, it’s great! I’ve been wanting to do something nice for you, since you’re friends with Harls, and any friend of Harls is a friend of mine! It’s plants, and things trying to eat the plants, and the plants win in the end! What’s not to love?”

Little screams came from here and there in the crowd.

Poison Ivy looked affronted. “You set all of this up based on a stupid game? You think the damage humans do to the environment is a joke?”

“No! Not a joke!” Joker actually sounded frustrated. “I’m just trying to make this more fun for you! I’m not trying to make you mad!”

She gave him a cold look, then sniffed like one of his unwilling zombies when faced with discount caviar. Without a word, the plants slowly turned and started leaving.

Joker just stood there in disbelief for several long moments, his shoulders slowly slumping in defeat.

“Gotta go. It’s probably okay if you leave,” Harley said quickly before rushing to her boyfriend’s side to being talking quietly to him.

“That’s different,” Selena commented neutrally.

“Very.” Bruce watched as the costumed clowns held a quiet but hurried conversation, then Harley took off running after her friend.

Joker, left behind, slowly walked over to a park bench and sat down heavily.

“Eh, boss? Whatta we do?” one of the costumed goons asked uncertainly.

Joker shrugged and made a twirling gesture with his hand, then ran it through his green hair as the henchmen all started quietly making their exit.

Bruce stared at the dejected villain.

“Bruce, no.”

He started walking towards him.

“Damn it, Bruce!” she hissed, then reluctantly tagged along at a distance, maneuvering herself to be out of the Joker’s line of sight.

Joker didn’t react as Bruce came up and sat on the bench beside him.

They sat there quietly for several moments.

“For what it’s worth, I think it was actually a pretty nice gesture,” he said.

Joker didn’t move. “Thanks, Bruce.”

They were silent for a little while more, ignoring the quiet but hurried escape of the partiers.

“She takes care of Harley when I can’t, you know?” he said suddenly.

“I had heard they were friends.” Bruce walked a fine line. There was stuff he knew as Batman he shouldn’t know as Bruce Wayne, but at the same time, Bruce Wayne had been involved in a fair number of run ins with the theme villan crowd, and would certainly pay attention to the gossip. Everyone in Gotham tried to keep up with their antics, just for survival.

“Yeah. A little more than friends, I believe, but I’m not jealous. Harles deserves to be taken care of, you know? She should have other friends. And I just wanted to show Pamela that I appreciated that. Her being there for my girl.” He sighed. “Too bad she hates me. It’s hard to do something nice for people that you’ve already done horrible things to. No one believes it. For good reason, too. It won’t take much and I’ll probably, I dunno, casually try to kill her or something.”

Bruce gingerly patted him on the shoulder. “I heard you were on a new medicine and doing better.”

“Hah. ‘Better’, he says,” Joker said without humor. “Harles told ya, huh? Yeah, I’m on this experimental thing, dexiaminoriboflavin b, or something. Doesn’t have a nice, friendly marketable name yet. Probably never will, given it’s basically poison.” He fished a pill bottle out of his pocket and looked at it.

Bruce eyed it carefully. The drug name did not start with a ‘d’. He memorized the real name for research later.

“Poison?” he asked.

“Yeah, the doc was trying to kill me. But you know me, poisons just don’t work. And hey, it actually did something useful. My thoughts are clearer, I’m not hallucinating nearly as much, and I haven’t felt like killing someone in weeks.”

“I’m guessing there’s some side effects.”

Joker chuckled slightly. “Yeah. I’m not sure if it’s the drug or the sanity, but I definitely do not feel like my old cheerful self. Everything’s just a little… off. It’s hard to sleep, I keep getting nauseous, and honestly, I’m just kinda down. But I can’t say it’s not better than being full on crazy. Believe it or not, I am actually aware that killing people is wrong. But before I went on the pill, I just didn’t think about it. Half the time, I think I’m hallucinating, and then I realize I’m surrounded by dead people. The other half… well, lets just say that it’s a very good thing Gotham doesn’t actually have a surfing competition, and leave it at that.”

Bruce didn’t actually know what to say to that.

“I’m a monster, Bruce,” he said, turning and looking at the rich man. “I hurt people I hate and I hurt people for fun and I even hurt the ones I care about. Harley should not put up with me after what I’ve done to her. I keep hoping she’ll realize what a disaster I am and go to Pammie like she should, but she keeps coming back no matter how horrible I am. I’m trying to be nice now that I actually can be, but I don’t know how much of this sanity I can take. And that makes me afraid I’m going to stop taking the pills and turn right back into the monster I hate. It’s a vicious circle, Bruce. A vicious, vicious circle.”

He had no reply.

“I mean, I’d kill myself,” he said with renewed energy, jumping to his feet and spinning around, “but it never seems to work.” He pulled a big revolver out of his jacket and pressed it to his temple, his other hand pressing against the other side, and pulled the trigger with a pop. A telescoping rod with a ‘BANG’ flag on it shot out from between the fingers of his off hand, seeming to have gone all the way through his head.

Bruce carefully didn’t jump. Selena did.

The sad clown pulled the joke flag down, revealing the prop he’d hidden in his off hand.

“I can’t do it. I still want to live. I deserve to die. But I want to live.” He tossed the gun down on the ground. “The cops, the same gotham cops that are so corrupt they’d kill an informant before he sees a jail cell, won’t kill me. The people at Arkham either won’t… or can’t. I can’t. I think Batman could, but he won’t. God knows I’ve tried to get him to enough times.”

He turned and sat back down on the bench, further away from Bruce.

“I’d have made a lousy Surf King, anyway,” he mused. “I don’t even know how to surf.”

“Maybe you could learn?” Bruce offered. “I mean, if you’re not killing people anymore and you’ve got time on your hands. Maybe a vacation is what you need. Away from Gotham. Somewhere sunny. Take some time off, put yourself back together. Work on your complexion. Learn to surf. Take Harley and show her a good time.”

Joker snorted. “And where am I gonna be able to do that, Bruce? I’m kind of distinctive, unless I’m in disguise. Imagine me in Miami. Bomb scares. Vigilantes. Capes. Buncha cubans trying to swim back. I’m a walking dumpster fire, Mr. Wayne.”

“Well, I do own a private island,” the richest man in Gotham mused. “In the Bahamas. It’s nice, I don’t get to spend nearly enough time there, but that just means it’s available. It’s got a nice villa, a white sand beach, a lovely view. I could send you there. With or without Miss Quinn.”

The Joker looked incredulously at him. “Bruce, I am a villian. A monster. A murderer. Do not invite me into your house.”

Bruce waved it off. “It’s not my house, it’s my island villa. It’s basically made for guests. And, you yourself said you’re doing a lot better. I’d certainly like to see you killing people less. And kidnapping me less. I don’t think a vacation is all you need, you definitely need some more therapy, but I think that, right now, you need some hope. So, yes, I invite you to stay at my villa in the bahamas, but under one condition.” He eyed his nemesis sternly. “No plots. No poisons, no murder, no traps, no jokes, just, take it easy. A vacation.”

“That’s… I don’t know what to say, Bruce.”

“Come on,” Batman said, “We can get you back to Arkham. We can get this Doctor Porter put in jail for trying to murder you, and do some research on this new drug. Maybe we can find a better formulation, or a dosage that doesn’t have as many side effects. You’ve already made a lot of progress, so we just need to fine tune it. Get you some therapy, get your depression under control, and hey, at the end of it, there’s a literal tropical paradise waiting. Harley can come in and be with you.”

Joker was looking off into the distance, his eyes unfocused. “A tropical vacation, huh? Harley would look great in a bikini.”

“That’s the spirit! Keep that as a goal. You want to be sane. You want to enjoy good things and avoid bad things like hurting people. You want to live, right?”

“Yes! I want to live!” he said, jumping to his feet. “I don’t want to be a monster! I want to see Harley playing beach ball in the sun! Bruce, I could kiss ya!” Putting words to action, he seized the sides of Bruce’s head and pulled him close, but before the Batman could viciously counter, placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Bruce, I’ll be the perfect guest. No tricks, no plots. You’ll see. I’ll show you that I’m more than just a monster.”

“I always knew you were more than just a monster,” Batman replied, smiling faintly. “Now, come on. I’ll give you a ride to-“

“Oh, I’ve got to go pack. Have to find a petsitter for the hyenas, have to let Harles know… I wonder if I need sunscreen.” He smacked himself on the forehead. “Duh, of course I need sunscreen. You’re not on a tropical vacation without a big smear of sunscreen on your nose.”

“I’m sure there will be time to pack after you-“

But Joker was already pulling away. “Thanks, Bruce! You’re a prince!” he called as he was sprinting away with considerable speed.

Bruce sighed.

“Bruce, why?” Selena asked, approaching from behind.

He shrugged helplessly.

“I’m not sure I buy this whole ‘sane Joker’ thing.”

“Well, I was thinking of having the villa rebuilt, anyway. At least he’ll be a long way from anyone else.”



*********


AN: This takes forever to write and was actually started a long time before No Promises. It will not be updated very often. Enjoy, though. I think it's going to be a good story.

 

I already like this better than White Knight. I always like it when we see someone try and help the villains get better- Heck half the ideas I have for DC fics (haven't written them just ideas) end up involving the mc recruiting some villain or other and either setting them up so they don't have to be villains or solving the issue that drove them to villainy. The other half end up in the mc either coopting them or beating them as villains.

I had one idea after reading A Better Class of Criminal on spacebattles (villain SI with libromancy magic, the story starts years after his arrival) when he goes "straight". what about an MC becoming a philantropist like Bruce or heck Mayor of gotham. Not necessarily having no powers or such, but focusing on building up things instead of fighting crime in a costume

 

So somebody flipped the Joker's dial back to "Silver Age", I see.