A Peculiar Partnership
A/N: None of the characters belong to me, DC owns them.
Chapter 1: Close Encounters of The Clown Kind
Bruised and battered, the Joker stumbled through the shadowy, dank alleyways of The Narrows. Grasping his right arm tightly to stop the blood flowing, he paused to lean against a wall and his ragged breathing fogged the air. He knew he had to quickly find a place to hide before they caught up with him. Darting his eyes around, he surveyed his surroundings, noticing the fire-escape stairs on a three-storey tenement a few feet away from him.
Bingo! Grinning, the Joker almost skipped in joy and scooted up the metal steps, his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth like an excited puppy. Spotting a dim light emitting from the window of the first floor, he made his way up to the next level. Peering in through the sliding glass-doors, the Joker could just see a dark empty room.
"Well I, uh, guess this is home sweet home!" he muttered to no one in particular. Then using his good elbow, he smashed the glass, close to the door handle and let himself in, sliding it shut afterwards.
He stood at the threshold and regarded his environment. It was one of those flats which had an open kitchen, dining room and lounge, all in one room with a corridor that probably led to bedrooms and bathrooms. In the darkness, the Joker could make out that the room was barely furnished. Perhaps there was nobody living here, he contemplated hopefully. But this optimism soon vanished at the sound of footsteps approaching from around the corner. Keeping silent the Joker pressed himself against the wall and waited. As soon as the person entered the room, the Joker pounced, grabbing them into a headlock. They struggled for a while, grunting and cursing, but the Joker managed to get the upper hand. The Joker latched his uninjured arm around the target's throat, succeeding in positioning their back against his front with their head rested on his shoulder. In fact, they were so close that his lips almost touched the victim's ears; their silhouette a mocking embrace of two lovers.
"Now, I'm not, er, gonna hurt you…But" whispered the Joker, emphasising the 't' sound and smacking his lips. "But… if you dare call for help, I'm afraid we won't be able to become, ahem, flatmates, mmm?"
The Joker got no reply since suddenly his face was sprayed by an unknown gas. He got a mouthful of the substance that burned his eyes, made his head spin and seemed to tickle every fibre in his body, causing his muscles to spasm, allowing his victim to slip away from his grasp.
From afar, the occupant watched the Joker writhe on the floor, howling with laughter, like that of a wild hyena, which echoed in the room. Looking down at the thrashing figure, the man was deeply disturbed by this. No one had ever reacted to the 'Fear Gas' in such a way, thought the occupier. Wanting answers, he grabbed the nearest object to him, a lamp, for defence as he realised the 'Fear Gas' would be useless against the intruder and hesitantly approached the convulsing man on the floor.
"Who are you?!" demanded the owner loudly over the cachinnation. "Tell me, now, or else!" Raising the lamp above his head, preparing to hit the trespasser, he took a closer step. Without warning, the stranger jerked onto his side, a sliver of moonlight illuminated his face. That face which was smeared carelessly in white greasepaint, rubbing off in places, with black rimmed eyes spewing an uncontrollable waterfall of tears, finished off by the most startling feature of all, his red painted Chelsea grin, stretching across his cheeks. His mouth was flung open, erupting with laughter revealing his yellowing teeth. Shocked, the occupant's jaw dropped in recognition and he backed away slowly from the infamous and insane criminal of Gotham, the very clown himself, the Joker.
As he was reaching for the telephone, he didn't notice the hand that darted out and grabbed his ankle. All too soon, the owner of the flat felt himself falling through the air, his ears ringing with the high-pitched laughter, then there was silence and he was surrounded by nothing but blackness.
Still chortling, the Joker heaved himself on top of his attacker lying across him, making sure that when they gained consciousness he would still manage to subjugate the other. It was only a couple of minutes later that finally the Joker's raucous laughter began to subside; he was left shuddering and could at last gain control of his body, clutching his painful stomach whilst giggling occasionally.
As soon as a groan emitted from underneath him, the Joker swiftly straddled the person, managing to securely hold their arms and upper body in between his legs. Using both his bare hands, he gripped onto the man's throat, tight enough to barely breathe. The Joker leant forwards to get a better look at the face of the man he was about to strangle to death for drugging him.
Cold, icy blue eyes stared back into his, glinting with a spark of terror. Tilting his head to the side and frowning like a quizzical child, the Joker took in the face of the choking man in his hands. He was very pale with hollow cheeks and a high forehead where a fringe of straight, dark brown, almost black, hair fell into his eyes.
"Aah!" cried the Joker, his eyes widening, in realization. "I know you! You're the psycho doctor!"
Evidently gleeful, the Joker eased pressure on the windpipe, his tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip and with his right hand pointed to the doctor.
"It's, uh, coming to me…Dr Crow? No, no, er, it's something to do with birds, mmm?"
"Crane." Croaked the doctor.
"I'm sorry I didn't catch that. D'you mind speaking up a bit, doc?" Asked the Joker, hovering his face inches above the other, his hand still pressed to their throat but no longer blocking the airways.
"Crane. Jonathon Crane."
The Joker nodded elatedly. "Crane, huh! See, I knew it was a bird…I did."
"Excuse me, but could you please ge-"
Cutting him off, the Joker placed a grubby finger over Crane's lips. "Oh, where are my manners?" Then let go of Crane's neck and smoothed his matted, greasy green hair then smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Dr Crane, I'm the Joker, but, uh, you probably already know that!"
Cocking a brow, Crane replied drily. "The pleasure's all mine. And yes, I know who you are." He added lightly, "Now, if you'd, kindly, get off of me, I might be able to shake your hand."
"Err, Doc, I think you forgot about how you, ahem, 'brutally' drugged me, when I clearly said that I wouldn't hurt you, mmm?" He looked down on Crane accusingly as if he was a naughty child, his tongue flicking out. "No, no…this is for, uh, our safety. See, I don't want to kill you! But if you go spraying your 'funny' gas at me again, I'm afraid that I'll have to."
"I'm not going to use my 'funny' gas, besides it's useless against you." Sighed Crane dismally.
The Joker perked up at this. "The gas doesn't work on me? What about all that laughter?"
"No, it doesn't…well…" Crane hesitated for a second then made up his mind that he didn't want to be in the Joker's bad books. "Actually, the toxin didn't affect you in the desired way. While it did cause a somewhat bizarre reaction, your uncontrollable laughter, the fact is that you were meant to have had severe hallucinations that would cause you to become extremely distressed and fearful."
"Ohh!" The Joker nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him. "So that's why they call you the, uh, Master of Fear. I was beginning to think that, er, maybe they were exaggerating. Y'know, no offense Doc, but when a guy sprays you with supposed 'laughing gas', y'wouldn't think they'd be the fear inducing Scarecrow, mmm?"
Again, Crane exhaled deeply. "Is that really what they call me now, Master of Fear?"
"Mmhhmm." Regarding the man beneath him, the Joker was hit by an idea and his chocolate brown eyes flashed with inspiration. "Say, Dr Crane, you, uh, still mixing chemicals?"
Raising his eyebrows, Crane replied curiously. "I might be, but what is it to you?"
The Joker licked his lips and adjusted the braces at his shoulders. "How about I present you with a…a proposal, Dr Crane, mmm?"
