Wacky Rooftop HijinksRating:
A long time ago, in a Um, you pick?Characters:
Commissioner Gordon, Jack Harkness, Batman and RobinWord count:
I own nothing of these, except maybe the occasional donut.Summary:
Only one man can stop the latest problem in Gotham City. However, Batman’s running late, so enter Jack Harkness.Author's Notes:
There was a request : Desires: cake, designer underpants, Jack Harkness's coat. All other details are up to you. No emo, no sadness, no penguins. Bonuses for the inclusion of Batman and/or pudding-pops.
I promptly went insane and wrote this.
~ + ~
Commissioner Gordon stood looking out over the night skyline.
Gotham looked awfully pretty from this high up with all the twinkling lights glittering across the city. From far away a police siren sounded, indicating yet another police chase ongoing out there. Beside him, the great searchlight spread its beam across the sky. The Bat signal shone out across the great metropolis, summoning Batman to that very rooftop.
Hopefully soon, Gordon thought. It was damn cold that night. He’d have sworn Freeze was up to something if he hadn’t checked with Arkham earlier.
Batman would be here any moment now. Now?
Maybe Batman was caught in traffic? God knew that damn Batmobile of his had to take time parking occasionally. Gordon’s mind drifted off as he waited, imagining Robin learning to parallel park the Batmobile, and Batman’s inevitable glare when he scraped it along a wall.
Finally there was a crunch of gravel behind him, and Gordon turned around. “About time, Batman,” he started to say, before pausing. That was definitely not Batman.
“Afraid not, Commissioner,” said the tall dark haired man smiling broadly, “Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood.”
~ + ~
Gordon was still dazed and confused ten minutes later. This was certainly not how he was used to these… “consultations”… going. There was a sort of rhythm to them – Batman would show up, Gordon would unveil the latest threat/clue/odd occurrence, Batman’s jaw would clench and he’d disappear from the rooftop whenever Gordon wasn’t looking directly at him.
Jack Harkness had brought cakes. And much more importantly, coffee.
“It’s like this, Jim – I can call you Jim, right?” Jack continued, fluttering his eyelashes at Gordon. Gordon almost choked on his coffee, and spluttered something vaguely amenable, waving one hand in Jack’s general direction.
Jack shuffled along the wall the two of them were leaning against, and ended up a great deal closer to Gordon. “Thing is Jim,” he continued, taking a chocolate éclair out of his box of pastries, “I’m looking for a man.”
Gordon blinked, and shuffled himself a little further away from Jack. Jack stuck out his tongue and delicately licked a piece of cream off the éclair, looking directly at Gordon all the time. “One of my team from Cardiff’s gone missing, Jim,” he said. “One Ianto Jones, my right hand man and general dogsbody come valet.”
Unwillingly, Gordon’s eyebrows rose. “Ianto? That’s not a very common name, is it?” he said, desperately trying to not look at the box over by the still-blazing Batsignal.
Jack just looked at him. It was a look that said oh-please-don’t-even-try-that mixed in with you’re-very-pretty-when-you-play-dumb. The two together confused Gordon enough that this time he did look at the box.
Jack smirked, swallowed the éclair in one motion, and bounded over to the box. “Mwaha!” he mumbled, crumbs flying out of his mouth as he opened it.
Jack held up the pair of designer underpants that had been inside the box and stared at Gordon in disbelief. “Mwut te mfuth?!?” he said, and swallowed.
Gordon sighed. He just hoped nobody from the Special Crimes Unit would choose this moment to take a smoke break. Explaining the kneeling man holding up designer underpants directly in front of him would take some doing.
“Commissioner?” A deep voice from behind him said. “The signal?”
~ + ~
“Batman! Great to see you again! Hey, you ever manage to get that cape clean?”
Jack Harkness just grinned and waggled an eyebrow. “Oh come on. You, me, Talia, Tibet – you can’t have forgotten that easily. Those pudding-pops must have taken days to get out of your cape.”
Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Would you, perchance, happen to know just how the Batmobile happened to find itself clamped earlier tonight?”
Jack tried to look innocent and saintly. He failed miserably.
Off to the side, Gordon and Robin found themselves turning their heads back and forth, following the conversation, hardly daring to make a sound and distract them. Silently, Gordon offered the box of cakes to Robin who took the donut.
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” Batman forced out, through gritted teeth. His cape swirled around him in the night wind.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Oooo… behold the swirly cape of dramaticialness, and no, I don’t care if that isn’t a word.” He spun around dramatically himself, his long dark coat also flaring out. “See? Yours is just bigger than mine.”
He paused. “Huh. Not a thing I’m used to saying.”
“Oh yeah, now that the cape-off’s over, I’m looking for my friend Ianto Jones. Last seen in Gotham, currently missing. I think this has something to do with it.” Jack held out the underpants to Batman.
Batman looked at the underpants, looked at Jack, looked at the underpants again, and turned his head to look at Gordon. Gordon looked somewhat embarrassed and held up his hands in a what-can-you-say gesture.
Reluctantly, Batman took the underpants from Jack. Then sniffed them.
“Ewwww!” Jack said, recoiling.
“Still fresh, never been worn. Standard cotton with a fake designer label, probably knocked off in some back street alley slum factory ran by criminals. Thread looks Eastern European at first glance, so maybe Little Odessa.”
Jack blinked. “Okay, that’s more worlds’ greatest detective.”
Batman glared at Jack again. “And what has this to do with your ‘friend’ Ianto Jones?”
Gordon coughed politely. “Ahem. Look inside.”
Batman opened up the underwear and looked. “Help. I am a prisoner in a designer underwear factory. Please send help. Ianto Jones.”
Jack nodded smugly. “Ianto’s resourceful.”
Batman looked at him, then returned to reading the underwear. “PS. Please make sure Jack gets to bed in a reasonable time as those bags under his eyes are not flattering.”
Jack stared. “No! Ianto didn’t write that! He would never, never….”
“PPS. Bring the stopwatch.”
“Okay, maybe he did. Little Odessa, you said?”
Batman practically snarled. “Harkness, there is no way you are getting involved in this. This is my city, my ground.”
Jack hopped up onto the side of the building, and stood there on the edge of the roof. “You’ll believe a man can die. Seeya there, Bats,” he said and stepped off.
There was a long pause, and then a thud from some distance away. Robin and Gordon rushed over to the wall and looked down at the street. There, on the alley floor, laid Jack Harkness, obviously dead.
Batman snarled again. “That’s not going to stop him for long, Robin. Lets go.”
And so the Gotham City craziness got just a little crazier, just for one night...
~ Fin? ~