The Bat glanced around the large room, spotted a black faux leather sofa sitting near an old television in the corner. He lifted the man in his arms a bit, managing after several moments to slide his clothing back up over the lean hips. He didn't bother fastening them again as he re-positioned himself, lifting the clown in his arms. The Joker stirred, opened his eyes, closed them again with a soft sigh.

The Bat crossed the room to deposit the man, not ungentle, on the old couch. He hesitated, then quickly let his hands skim the man's body (as if he hadn't been intimate with it several minutes ago), to search for weapons. He came up with two knives, one in the man's pocket and the other hidden neatly at his ankle. He shook his head, stood and laid them on top of the old television. He then turned his eyes back to his sleeping nemesis.

The smaller man rolled over to his side as he watched, curling in an almost fetal position, but didn't wake. The Bat studied him curiously - it was as if the man had just shut off after expending so much energy in the sex from minutes ago. Most of his make-up had rubbed off in their earlier fight, and then in their tryst minutes ago (hell, half of it was smeared across the plating of his suit). He looked far more ..human, without it, in spite of the scars, which really weren't that unbecoming. It was an odd contrast to the Joker he knew and battled. He saw the man shiver in the cold room and glanced around, eyes searching. Spotting a table with articles of clothing strewn about it, he crossed to it. 'Lost & Found', a hand-written sign taped to the table proclaimed of the clothing. He eyed the pieces, moving several aside, finally coming across an almost thread-bare plaid blanket. Better than nothing, he supposed. He snatched it up and crossed back to the man on the couch. He asked himself exactly what he was doing as he covered the Joker with it, pulling it up over the shivering man's shoulders. He had no answers for himself. A moment of pity, perhaps, for the sleeping creature. He could almost forget what the other had done, the atrocities he had committed, here in the dark and cold. Almost, but not quite. The Bat stared at him for several seconds longer, then turned to cross to the large plate-glass window. He stared at the snow-covered world outside the glass, wondering how tonight had unfolded as it had. Eh, at least the unconscious man wasn't out right now, wreaking havoc upon Gotham..

He was still staring out the window a short while later, when he heard a stirring from the couch behind him. He half-turned, eyes resting on the still sleeping Joker. The clown was moving about in his sleep, muttering beneath his breath. The Bat raised a brow as he sat up abruptly, breathing heavy and eyes wild, shooting glances about the room. The pale face turned in his direction and the smaller man froze for a moment. Finally he moved, shifting so that he was seated normally, his feet on the floor. His eyes fell on the plaid blanket laying in his lap, and a low laugh escaped him. "E-ever the gracious host, aren't you?" the madman chuckled, pulling the blanket over his shoulders, covering himself.

"Sleep well?" the Bat ignored the ribbing, countering with his own, as he moved across the room. "Mm," was the only response as the clown tightened the blanket around himself. There was silence for a long moment, then he asked, "What happened earlier..does that mean we're d-dating?" The Bat's glare caused him to cackle - the sound echoed a bit in the large room. Batman seated himself on the couch beside the madman as if they were old chums - the smaller man tensed, eyes following every movement. "What happened tonight won't happen again," he assured, voice gruff.

"No?"

He watched as the smaller man leaned close, moving a hand to his leg and trailing fingers up his thigh, "That's a shaaame, Bats. How am I going to, uh, return the favor?" Batman watched his eyes narrow and a look of annoyance flash across his face as he pushed the clown's hand off his leg. "It's not going to happen again," he repeated firmly.

"Be a then," there was anger tracing the man's voice - he was sulking. Batman stared at him for a moment before asking, "What do you want, Joker? Roses and a ring? It shouldn't have happened, it won't-"

"Fuck you," the Joker snapped, leaping to his feet, the blanket falling away from his shoulders. Batman watched as he began to pace the floor, "You use everyone like that?" "What?" he stared incredulously at the madman, "I didn't-" "Whatever," came the angry interruption, "You take what you want and you-" The Bat was on his feet before the Joker could finish, moving in close. The smaller man managed half a step backward before he grabbed his wrist and hauled him close. "I didn't hear you complaining," he growled, his mouth hovering inches above the clown's. He saw the Joker's eyes fall to his mouth, and the other man licked his lips. It brought a smirk to his own features, and he lowered his head to almost whisper in the man's ear, "If and when I do decide I want to use you, then I'll do it." The other man drew a ragged breath, a slight tremor running through him. "Always have to have con-trol, don't you?" "Always," his lips brushed the jester's earlobe, nuzzling a moment before nipping at it with his teeth.

"Bats.." the Joker's voice dropped to a whisper as his fingers trailed paths up clown's side, edging him even closer. His eyes fluttered closed as the Bat nipped his jaw line, working his way down to his throat. "Thought you said this, uh.. wasn't going to happen again." There was a smirk in that voice.

The Bat swiped his tongue up the smaller man's jaw line, following the path his teeth had made moments before and eliciting a soft moan from the other man. He pulled back, stared down at the other's face, and whispered, "It's not."

With that, he released his hold on the clown and pushed him lightly away, putting space between them. He watched the various emotions that flitted across the madman's face in gunfire succession: confusion, disbelief, anger. The anger overwhelmed the rest and a low growl escaped the clown's throat. He reached a hand into his pocket - the look on his face when he realized that his knife was missing was almost comical. Almost. He reached down, felt for the one at his ankle, found it gone as well. A moment later he was throwing himself at Batman, striking and clawing at him.

The force of the attack knocked the Bat backward, but he immediately regained his balance. He fended off the madman's attack, raising an armored arm to deflect the blows. Seeking, finding and seizing his opportunity, he snagged a handful of the man's curly locks and jerked him backward, throwing him off balance. Before the Joker could recover, the Bat was on him, jerking him forward, spinning him to pin him back to chest, a muscled arm around his throat. He pushed the smaller man forward so that they were nearly against the wall, giving him less room to maneuver. The smaller man growled and struggled, kicking and cursing him; finally he exhausted himself and ceased struggling.

"Finished?" the dark knight murmured, lips near the smaller man's ear. The Bat's hold on his throat loosed only enough to allow him to draw in harsh, ragged breaths, but not enough to break free. He could feel the lean creature in his arms trembling, whether it was the remainder of his rage or just a constant from all the energy contained within him, he wasn't certain. Nor was he certain why it made him so goddamn hard, to have the captive clown in this position.

They were both mad.

The Bat closed his eyes briefly, attempting to push down the side of him that was Bruce Wayne. It was Bruce whom was the playboy, the sexual side, not the Bat. So why the hell was he so aroused? Why the hell was he teasing (only teasing? Not quite) the Joker of all people, an explosion waiting to happen beneath his fingertips. Perhaps that was part of it - the thrill. The danger. The excitement of the unpredictable.

His eyes opened as he felt the clown shift in his hold, attempting to slip free. "Be still." "You can't keep me here forever," the growled response grew breathless toward the end as he tightened his hold on the pale throat. He lowered his head to plant soft kisses on the Joker's pale shoulder, nipping at his flesh every few seconds. His free hand slid down the man's chest, stomach, trailed lower. The smaller man's pants were already hanging half off his hips from their struggle -he hadn't gotten around to fastening them. A slight tug sent them slipping down again, off the hips to bunch around his ankles. He felt the slim body in his grasp tense, trembling again. He tugged on the man's boxers, pulling them down off his hips. A few more tugs and they were joining his pants. The Bat glanced down over the man's shoulder, eyes taking in the sight of his now mostly naked body.

"I like to see you like this. At my mercy.."

He didn't know what in hell possessed him to admit that aloud, but his words brought a low sound from the other man. He couldn't tell if it was a gasp or a growl and, as his fingers began to roam the curve of the clown's hip, he didn't care. He let his fingertips brush along the man's inner thigh, pushing to part his legs a bit. He watched as they burned a path up the man's thigh; a glance at the Joker told him the clown was watching their progress as well. His eyes were on the other man's face as he brushed them up the length of his hardening cock, light teasing touches. The Joker's lips parted slightly, tongue sliding out to lick his lips and eyes on the hand at his groin.

He didn't avert his gaze from the smaller man's features when he loosed his hold on the man's neck long enough to lock a metal cuff around one wrist. The Joker blinked, glanced over at his own face, and smirked. "Kinky, Bats." His voice was a whisper in the cold air. He started to tug at the cuff but the hand which continued to rub his groin served as a distraction. If he noticed when the Bat reached up and locked the second cuff to a slim metal pole, which housed wires and ran from wall to ceiling, he gave no indication.

Batman slid his fingertips up the clown's cock, causing the other to arch against his hand. He nipped the Joker's jaw line, causing the other man to whimper a bit; a moment later he released his hold on the clown, pulled back and stepped away. The Joker was motionless for a second before half-turning to look at him. Confusion, arousal, impatience touched his features. The Bat lowered his head and brushed his lips, lightly, along the other man's. When the smaller man moved to reciprocate, following the Bat as he stepped back a bit, he found his attempt impeded by the cuff around his wrist. His eyes flitted to the metal bracelets, then back to the Bat.

It was Batman's turn to smirk. "Maybe I wasn't clear, Joker. It's not going to happen again."

Disbelief, followed closely by anger, crossed the Joker's face as he turned and headed for the building's exit. The Bat chuckled to himself, his sadistic side rising again, as the smaller man yanked at the cuffs, howling with rage.

If the Gotham police wondered why the Joker was half-naked and cuffed to a pole when they arrived 10 minutes later, they didn't dare voice it. They simply stood and stared, unsettled and frightened (though none of them admitted it aloud), as they awaited the SWAT team to come and deal with the maniac.

From his perch atop a nearby rooftop, the city's anti-hero watched as the Joker was loaded into a SWAT van. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that the local police force -nor Arkham - could hold the madman for long. Still, the city would get a brief reprieve for as long as they could contain him. He watched as the madman paused suddenly, half-turned to glance up in his direction. A smirk touched the painted mouth, and the Bat's own mouth went dry. He cursed himself for anticipating already his next meeting with the madman, and turned to disappear in the dark.