I did not create the Batman Universe, or the characters, nor do I own any of them.

Suited up, weapons loaded, they were ready, oh yes, they were going to get into all sorts of deviant hijinks tonight. Her with her popgun, and him with his boutonnière, they were going to have some fun.

Creeping down the building's creaky staircase, Gotham's Most Wanted didn't say a word. She insisted on holding hands, making sure her Puddin' would be close to her, no matter what. He merely grinned (even more madly than usual) and bore it, resisting the temptation to push her down the stairs, and run away, finally free.

Out into the night, they took a taxi, but didn't even bother to pay. Why would they, when laughing gas worked just as well? His face-mile stretched out to his eyes, and eye bulging and red-set them off in a howling chorus of laughter, much like her pet hyenas. He made her open the door for him, and they pranced down the street, the moll skipping, and him wanting to stuff her in a trash can and forget about her,(he knew he couldn't) stroll off into the night, unchained. Too bad she was so persistent, she'd find him before long and snuggle into his chalk white neck, biting and suckling with pure devotion.

On the way, they stopped at a florist, and he stole and some white lilies for her, along with some cash. Her reaction: A squeal too high-pitched for anyone's ears, and her long legs sprang up, wrapping around his torso, crushing the flowers. He yelled at her not to make a scene, but in a way, sort of enjoyed the fact that she loved his law-breaking ways, so he let her give him a quick kiss, and they went about their way, him accidentally-on-purpose tripping her only once

They reached their destination, guns cocked, and grins wide as the poor taxi cab driver's. They were about to get what they wanted; nothing was going to prevent it any longer. They strode in, her arm linked through his (her choice, not his) and the room fell silent, the infamous villains enjoying every second of it, but pretending not to notice. Striding to the table, he pulled the chair out for her to sit on, not pulling it out from underneath like he dearly wanted to. Her crushed lilies lay on the table, and she looked up at him, so happy he was finally taking her out on a nice date.

He walked to a wide-eyed waiter, and hissed, "Two menus. Now. Or it's gonna be your head on the plate."