Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Batman: the Animated Series
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Batman. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Batman and related characters belong to DC and WB.
Warnings: Light spoilers for another fic of mine—but not enough to be unable to read this one on its own.
A/N: This is a sort of companion to a chaptered fic I did long ago called Crimson Princess. Other than after the end of the Buffy series, there’s no particular setting for Batman.
Word Count: 729
Joker, when outside of Arkham, was rarely alone. It was very nearly a constant parade of henchmen and Harley, cycling through at his side. So, on the second evening past his most recent escape—sans Harley—it was kind of nice to be utterly alone in his new, abandoned warehouse hideout. If he were any other person, it might have been unsettling to be all by himself in a large, dirty old building. But he saw it as a kind of reprieve.
But, of course, this mini madman vacation was not to last.
He had barely leaned back in the purple, ratty recliner he had found before he could hear someone walking toward him. He sat upright, putting his hand on the handle of the gun he kept in his inner jacket pocket. The sound of music, of humming, reached his ears long before he saw its host. But he did not need to guess at the owner. He recognized the voice well enough.
“You,” the Clown Prince said as pale moonlight shined through the high windows and fell across the newcomer’s face. “I’d take off. I’m not too fond of you, and you should see what I do to people I like
A series of giggles spilled from his ruby lips following these words.
“Oh, but I missed my little jester,” Drusilla said, her voice echoing around the room like the tinkling of small bells. “I missed the games we would play.”
Joker shifted in his seat, his gun now fully visible. He might be insane and view the world from a view that was more than a little skewed… but he well remembered what “games” this little vampire liked to play with him.
“I don’t like your kind of ‘fun,’ toots. Now amscray!”
He leveled the gun at her, but she smiled and twirled in her long red dress.
“Oh, silly, silly clown! You know what I am. I’m special, and that little ball of metal won’t hurt little ol’ me. And you’re being mean. I’ve only come for playtime.”
Joker’s hand faltered. He remembered that bubbly blonde with the Bat telling the police that guns were useless. Joker didn’t like feeling useless, but he was willing to bet that his special toxin didn’t work on vampire either. Widening his grin, he shoved his gun back inside his jacket.
“Fine. What did you have in mind?”
Drusilla grinned and tiptoed closer to the grinning maniac.
“Sssh,” she whispered, pressing a long, pale finger to her crimson lips. “I’ve got a plan.”
Joker crossed his arms. “Do tell.”
She reached up, laying a hand on either of his shoulders, and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“I want to kill the Bat.”
She danced away, twirling and twirling, speaking in a singsong-ed voice.
“He’d be so delicious! With all his justice and light and dark mixed… I’ve never had that mix before!”
“And you have a plan? Because I’ll tell you one thing, Batman’s harder to kill than a cockroach on steroids.”
She stopped mid-dance to glance over her shoulder. “We crazies have to stick together. And you’ve never tried to eat him before, have you?”
Joker chuckled. To each their own, and his own were always the crazies. But they always had the best plans. And the idea of seeing Batman bleeding out from the neck while Joker did something utterly hilarious
to the rest of him was sounding better and better. He looked up to see Drusilla putting on the best pout he had seen since he last spoke with Harley.
“I was hopping you’d forgive me for playing with you so rough,” she whimpered. “I’m really, really sorry.”
Joker shrugged. “You help me go after the Bat… and we’ll let bygones be bygones.”
Drusilla’s face instantly lit up, and she bounced up and down, clapping.
“Oh, goody, goody! This will be so much fun!”
Seeing the glee on the vampire’s face caused a bout of manic laughter to rise in the Clown Prince’s throat. So what if she had almost killed him the last time they met? She was his kind of people. And if she could get him close to killing the Bat—since, of course, he would take that honor for himself, no matter what she thought—then the more, merrier.
“All right, sweetheart, what’s the plan? And I hope it’s funny
Fanart by TwistedSlinky