…I should settle on an official name. And start putting the series on AO3.



Rated: PG
Words: 431


“Take a break from the BatCraft, Batman.”


He looked up from his super cool gaming laptop to glare at whoever dared to interrupt him– until suddenly the “UUAH” of his character being pummeled by skeleton arrows demanded all of his attention. But, he was out of healing items and the “YOU DIED!” screen graced the coffeehouse.


He sighed. Harley Quinn probably had a point. It was the fifth time he died in this cave, anyway. Time for lunch. She plopped down in front of his setup with a blue and red swirly icy drink, and handed him his lunch, from The Joker: a salad with strawberries in it.


“What flavor?” He nodded to her drink. He was low on beverage and needed to feel out for options.


“Raspberry and Blue Raspberry.” Harley took a long, obnoxious sip. “One tastes like Blue Dye , and the other Red Dye . Together they taste like Purple Dye#104, only good.”


Batman nodded in understanding. He was partial to Orange Dye , himself. But, the clowns were notorious for their insatiable sweet teeth; the ice slushie thing would be loaded with at least 5 cups of sugar. He’ll stick with water for now, until he needed to grind for diamonds.


The Batman tabbed out of Minecraft to do some reading. Using WayneRSS Reader, of course, which was the answer to Gaggle Reader kicking the bucket a few years back. Information should be freely subscribed to.


“You gonna stick around tonight?” Harley took a break from slurping and practicing her slam poetry– complete with beatboxing.


Oh, right. The slam poetry thing is being hosted tonight. “Maybe.”


The Joker took this opportunity to walk past their table, depositing a (very small) orange slushy on a coaster, and a quick kiss on Batman’s cheek.


“Maybe?!” He huffed in mock offense. “And the one night I was going to perform!” The Joker twirled in place, grinning and cackling. “And it won’t be about coffee!”


“Will it be about me?”


“Heavens, no! It’ll be about art! And guns!” With a cough he hastily added, “and you”


“Well.” Batman took a sip of his tiny orange drink. “I suppose I’ll stay.”


“And no laptop!” The Joker reached over to shut the laptop closed, to emphasis his point– but Batman caught him at the wrist.


“We have seven hours before then, Joker.”


“I’m just making a point!” Joker pouted and rubbed his wrist. “But I really want your undivided attention, Bats.”


“I know. You’ll get it, I promise.”


Harley Quinn giggled, “y’all cute,” and drained the last of her extra large cup.

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