Somewhat more recently, it's occurred to me that 1 April is a fine day for posting humorous stories. (Not prank stories; I'm inclined to look on a tradition based on Christian disdain for pre-Christian traditions with a jaundiced eye.) It lets me get into the spirit of fun that's come to be associated with the day without feeling like I'm marginalising anyone.
And in that spirit, I present:
Auld Lang Syne
She sighs, and doesn't so much turn as put her back to the wall. "I'd tell you you shouldn't sneak up on a gal like that..."
"--If you hadn't known exactly where and who I was?"
"You always were a bright kid."
She folds her arms, and raises her eyebrows.
"Uh. Would it be okay if we" -- he gestures at the door -- "went inside?"
"Ah, so it isn't public-hallway conversation."
He opens his mouth, but she's already turned to unlock the door.
"Come on in, then," she says, tipping her fingers back over one shoulder to signal 'follow.'
Inside, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and paces a circuit through her living room. He isn't even looking at the decor; she pretends not to be affronted.
"Should I get you a drink? Or are you going to get around to what you came here for on your own?"
"No, thanks, I--" He breaks off and riffles a hand through his hair, then turns and walks up to her. "Selina, I... I want... Would you tie me up?"
She can't remember the last time she was actually at a complete loss for words.
"For old times' sake," he adds, earnest as ever.
She takes a deep breath. "Listen, Man Wonder, even if I thought that was a good idea -- which I am *not* saying -- I am definitely not the person to... help you. With that."
He starts to move closer. She stops him with the tips of her fingers on his chest.
She starts to think how all of them seem to always act as though her fingertips are actually clawed, and then forces that thought *away*.
"Honey. I understand that you've had an awfully hard year." The breath that escapes her isn't quite a laugh. "And that's *saying* something, for you." She considers letting her palm rest on his chest, then thinks better of it. "But. I am really, really not the right person to help you work out your... ah... *parent* issues."
"Oh, god." He takes a step back, clapping a hand to his face as hers falls away. "You and Bruce are back together again, aren't you!"
It's just not fair that he facepalmed first. She settles for pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, because *that's* the whole reason I would say no..."
* * *
Edited to add: Several people audienced this story for me, back before I nearly forgot to post it. I cannot remember who they are, because I suck, but if they remind me in comments, I will give credit where it's due.
It's only logical: Not all DCU fic by the Jack is humour
It's also logical: Not all Jack's fanfiction is DCU-based