There will be Batman/Joker and later Jason/Severus

Warning: curses, children being creepy and future slash happenings

(**)

Severus idly played with the multicolored hat of his harlequin doll. There used to be four jingling bells sewed onto the ends of the separated pieces of hat but they had long since been ripped off by his father… well, by the man that thought he was his father. See, Severus was young, only around four years old (well, he thought he was four or five but his birthday wasn't celebrated and he was never too sure what time of year it was) but even he could realize that the man that was sitting across from him with his hateful blue eyes and messy red hair was not his father.

"What are you thinking about, freak?" the man slurred at him, blue eyes beginning to glaze over as the poison of his choice began to take effect. No, no this man definitely wasn't his father.

"When my daddy going to come get me?" Severus countered despite knowing that the man would never tell him the truth. Ever since Severus had caught a look at himself in a mirror, he knew that this man couldn't possibly be his father but every time he asked the man that pretended to be his daddy (more like his horrible caretaker) he would either fly into a rage or pretend that Severus didn't realize what was going on.

"I am your father, freak as much as I hate to say it," the man glared. Severus sighed, it was the second option then. He idly wished that the little bells for his harlequin doll were back so that he could listen to their pretty sounds but he supposed that's why his caretaker had taken them away. Severus had always taken comfort in the sound but as soon as the lady that might have been his actual mother left… well the man that wasn't his father had taken them away.

"Nu-uh. My daddy is funny and he laff all the time," Severus shook his head as though the other was the child. They went through this almost every month but this time he was going to trap the man that wasn't his father. He was going to reveal everything that he knew and oh, he knew a lot.

"Oh does he now? Tell me, what else you know about your daddy?" the man was mocking him now but still Severus didn't take offense to it. He knew that the man was just trying to deny the truth but Severus wouldn't let him do it, he had him trapped.

"He do magic like me," he rattled off the next fact, watching as the red haired man stiffened and hatred began to roll off of him. Yes, he had always hated Severus for being able to do magic, he hated him for being a 'freak' but Severus didn't care because it was his magic and he loved it more than his precious harlequin doll. But no, no… the man definitely didn't like his magic.

"I know he didn't loved my mum but he love me." It was hard to admit it but Severus knew that his daddy and mommy didn't get along very well. They had lots of fights because she didn't understand his real daddy's jokes and, from what he remembered about his mum, she wasn't a very nice lady in the first place. She was even worse for stealing him away from his daddy as she had done. Then she left him with this man as soon as he could survive without her nutrients which she had given reluctantly anyhow.

The man did his mocking nodding thing as though he was seriously considering the words that came from Severus' mouth. It was okay, still because now it was time that Severus pulled out the big truths, the truths that were liable to get him smacked around and starved for a few days but he didn't care. He didn't care one bit because the man would admit to it, he would admit to stealing Severus and not being his daddy.

"I know my daddy is a real clown." Severus could see it in the man's mind and, at first, he hadn't known what it was but now he knew. Every time the man looked at him, he saw Severus' real daddy and that scared him. Oh yes, it scared him a lot and Severus was happy about it because the man was mean to him and wouldn't let him see his daddy. The man absolutely hated anything that was connected to clowns and would often tear away Severus' harlequin doll to toss it away only for Severus' magic to call it back to him and set the cycle all over again.

"That's enough, freak," the man snarled but Severus wasn't done. He was going to go back to his real daddy if it killed him! He didn't like this man, he didn't like that he kept calling him names and kept hurting him. He didn't like that he wouldn't let him go outside to play and be with the other kids. His real daddy wouldn't do all of that, he would be nice to him and let him have fun unlike this sour man before him. Severus slid off the couch and walked to the man that wasn't his father and looked deep into the blue eyes, his harlequin held to his chest.

"I know he gave you scar." The man stiffened, his legs jerking away from Severus as though he had hit him.

"What did you say?" the man breathed out, the stench of his liquor overtaking Severus' sensitive nose but he didn't back down. The scar was only on half of his face, leading from the corner of his mouth almost to his ear. It was heavy and warped as though the person that had patched him up couldn't quite get the needle and threads to work correctly and couldn't care in the least if they did. Severus had seen in the man's eyes that it was his daddy that had done it. It was his daddy that had attacked this man but hadn't finished because the man had gotten away with Severus and Severus' mother.

Sometimes when Severus would look into the man's eyes, he would see little snippets of his daddy but he could never see everything—green hair and blazing black eyes surrounded by more black that were warped with fear. And a laugh. Severus loved that laugh and would often force his magic to bring it to the forefront of the man's mind so that he could hear it again and again. It was loud, high pitched and echoed delightfully.

"I said he gave your scar. My daddy gave you a smile and he a clown with green hair… like this," and Severus felt the tingle of his magic as his black locks shifted from the jagged shortness in which it had been forced to long, green curtains that framed his face. He smiled widely at the man that wasn't his father, eyes wide and let out a howling laugh that sounded just like the laugh he heard in the man's mind.

The man jerked from the couch with a cry of fear and immediately fell to the floor, scrambling desperately away from Severus as though he wasn't just a little boy. Severus rather liked the fear in his blue eyes, the way he curled up into the corner as Severus had done every time he pulled out his belt. He walked slowly up to the man, eyes never leaving the blue eyes before him until Severus stood by his side, mouth stretched into a large, pearly smile.

"Mr. Napier…" he giggled and thrust his face so close that their noses touched. Jack, the man, flinched backwards, hitting his head on the wall as there was nowhere left to go. Severus took one hand from his doll and touched his small lips to guide his magic into making them bright red and then brushed the underside of his eyes, making large black circles appear there. Then he opened his newly made red lips and asked the most important question he could ever ask anyone especially this man that wasn't his father.

"Why so serious?"

(**)

The man walked easily down the street, hat jammed on his head, long brown trench coat flapping at his ankles and a thick scarf around his neck and covering half of his face. Had it not been for the hundreds of people in similar clothing, the man might have been very suspicious but as it were, early morning fall in the lovely city of Gotham was fucking cold and no one had the time to realize that the man walking in the streets with them was a murdering psychopath. In fact it was so cold outside that said murdering psychopath hadn't even hurt a single person since he stepped out of his 'home' with a scarf on his face and money in his pocket.

Yes, yes, money was such a useless thing that people were so desperate for and really a big annoyance that he could live without but there were just some things that couldn't be stolen or substituted… things that he absolutely needed…

"Welcome back Mistah Terre!" a genial voice chirped. The man lifted his head for a brief moment to peg the incessantly cheerful cashier with her blond hair up in two ponytails and bright blue eyes that looked horribly innocent and countered oddly with the form fitting harlequin inspired outfit she wore. He gave her a hidden smile and nodded, grabbing a small cart and shoving it down the shiny aisle.

"Oh, we have those cookies you like Mistah Terre, they're by the usual spot!"

Yes, what he needed were those rare, very delicious cookies that only came around during the Christmas holidays but he had pulled a few strings and made sure they were imported to this store every month. Then, to make sure that no one stole them, he made sure that they were hidden behind the most disgusting coffee that could be imagined. Honestly, he hadn't thought that any coffee could be nasty until they decided to fuck with the beans and make any concoction they so well chose.

"Fuckin' disgraces to the name of coffee," he muttered to himself, yanking out his cookies and ignoring the fallen tins. He went on to mutter out his grocery list, needing other things to continue survival although he highly wished that he could survive solely on cookies and sweets but the last time he had tried that, he was violently sick and that had been very embarrassing when playing a very fun game. He cringed at the memory and shoved vegetables and 'organic' (things that tasted just like the other things but did he really want to bitch about this?) things into the basket. More than a few packages of candy were thrown into the basket and some juices, milk, cereal, bread and pancake mix.

"Ya know Mistah Terre, you are always our best costumer. If it weren't for you, I swear this store wouldn't do half as good, what with our items being a tad expensive and whatnot," the girl chattered on in that high pitched accented voice. The man nodded absently, gazing at the items left and the number that was rising. He did the math quickly in his head before shoving his hand into his pocket and beginning to count out the large bills until he had a little over the right amount.

"I told Red, do you remember her?" the girl stopped adding for a brief moment to look at him. The man twitched subtly and nodded quickly which brought a big smile to her face and a continuance of checking out. "So you'll know that she really has a thing for plants, absolutely loves them so we donate a lot of her earnings to save one forest or another and whatnot. It's real nice what she does for those plants and all and she's great in the sack if you get what I mean."

"That's greaaaaat," he drawled, shoving the bills into her hands before she could announce the price that he could clearly see. The girl let out another chirp and sorted the bills into the register, either ignoring the fact that some of the bills had a drop or two of red on them or simply not believing that it was blood. Given the amount of deaths in this town and the particular stupidity of this girl, either or was free game.

"So Mistah Terre, ya know I don't know nuthin' about cha even though you come here like all the time?" she continued to chirp, moving on to bagging the items in their pretentious environment friendly bags. The man made a non-descriptive noise that might have been one of interest but judging by the way that the man had started to tap his fingers on the counter, this was probably a lie.

"I mean, for all I know you could be, I don't know the Jokah or something!" she fell into a fit of giggles, almost crushing his cookies under her slight weight. The man opened his mouth, probably to say something that would wipe the smile off her black-red painted lips but something else entirely happened. The door burst open and in walked… the Joker!?

"Hiiiii," the Joker drawled, smile spread across his smiling face and a gun cocked sideways in his hand. The store clerk pointed as though the only other person in the store had to be made aware of the demonic clown and let out a shrill shriek that would have challenged any bimbo in a horror movie.

"Seriously?" the inconspicuous man muttered under his breath with a very heavy frown.

(**)

The henchmen didn't know what to do. Well they suspected that it would be best if they simply got rid of it—the boss definitely wouldn't be happy if he caught sight of this thing. The only problem was that it was hiding in the smallest nook in existence that none of them could possibly get into. Of course that was the only plan that they had come up with… well at least it was the most humane.

"We could just shoot at it… maybe scare it a little," one of the remaining seven henchmen, Sneezy, suggested followed by several sneezes. He had just walked in from guard duty… although it wasn't really guarding. There were many alarms to trip up to this section of the building and plenty of traps to fall for. For a man that didn't plan, their boss sure had a lot of planned booby-traps.

"I don't think the boss would be happy about that. We might accidentally hit it." Another, Sneezy countered immediately followed by a loud yawn. If one didn't know better, than one would assume that he was one of the few people in this particular group with morals if not insomnia. It was certainly possible and none of them would really feel right about shooting the thing but when the boss got back… well, they knew for a fact that this thing would definitely not put a smile on his face or any of their faces really.

"Stop worrying about it. Just wait for him to do something about it. Maybe he'll think it's a gift…" another man shrugged from across the room. The three that stood as close to the thing as they could turn as a whole, looking at the man sitting on the couch. Because of the golden hair that was mostly overtaken by white but lack of prominent wrinkles, the man could have been anywhere from thirty to ninety although they did make an 'educated' guess of around, maybe, fifty or so. He had eyes that said he seen not everything but enough to not be shocked by very much. Instead of his clown mask being frightening, it was almost plain with its blue painted frown covering only his left half while his real face was normally smiling like a human Comedy and Tragedy. He dragged his visible dark blue eye from the television to give them a highly amused look.

If there was anyone to be considered second in command in this gang of murderous clowns then Grumpy would definitely fit the bill. For as long as their boss had plagued this city, Grumpy had been there although not necessarily by his side. Somehow, against all odds, he had managed to make himself as un-annoying and needed as humanely (demonically some would insist) possible. In all the time he had been there, he hadn't been shot, stabbed or even vaguely threatened.

The boss even deigned to remember his name ("Joseph Kerr? As in Joe Kerr? Ha, HA!") which was amazing considering that he hardly remembered which one he shot five seconds ago much less if there is any difference between any of them. Then again if Joseph had an opinion that was important enough for him to voice it, he would say it and not only did he say it but if their boss didn't like it, it certainly wasn't Joseph that was killed or gravely injured. So reluctance on the part of the more disposable henchmen was quite understandable.

"Honey I'm HOMMMMME!" a voice sung out much chipper than when the man had left the 'base of operations'.

The masked henchmen all glanced around at each other. Which one of them was going to ruin the boss's happy mood? Well, they would have to settle this like all great men before them: in a duel. It was a duel of wits, skill and luck. It was a battle that held their very lives in the balance… it was a game of 'Rock, Paper, Scissors'.

(**)

Joker was a very happy, very simple man in the way of needs. Well… he liked expensive clothes but what man didn't like the look their best? Now, on the subject of looking their best, this jackass standing before him was definitely not doing it right. First things first, where did he buy his dye because that green was completely wrong—the shit on his head looked like hot puke sitting out in the sun. The coat was too short and thin especially in this cold ass weather and too bright of a purple. Yeah it was only by a shade or two but still noticeable to his sharp eyes and that green too dark and was that an orange-blue tie!?

Again, Joker was a very happy man but one thing that really ruffled his feathers… that really put a frown on his face was copycats that couldn't even bother to get the image down pact! That was very annoying and a great insult to his person and, unlike a certain giant bat, he wouldn't put up with that shit. He smiled under his scarf because he had been getting rather down in the dumps lately but now he had something that would definitely give him a little fun.

"Now—," before the parody of a parody could go on with his attempted robbery (why in the fuck would a copycat hit up a grocery store? It didn't matter if the shit was extremely expensive, it was a fucking grocer) he suddenly found himself flying backwards due to a glancing blow from a shotgun. He let out a howl of pain and withered on the tiled floor like the little pussy he was however, it wasn't Joker that had shot his imposter. He turned to see the shaking store assistant girl with the smoking barrel still in her grasp and a slightly dazed looked on her face. Joker opened his mouth but, just like his parody, he found that he couldn't go on although it wasn't because he was shot. God help this little bimbo if she had shot him, luckily she hadn't; instead a half-naked redhead that came running into the room. Her poisonous green eyes darted across the room until she saw the girl.

"Dear God, Harleen what happened!?" she shrieked, running over in all of her exposed glory. It was really what Joker wanted to see—sheesh, hadn't she heard of a razor!?

"H-he—I think I just killed Da Jokah!" Harleen (oh so that was her name!) stuttered out, falling into her lover's chest as the woman gathered her up. Joker, the real Joker at the least, sauntered up to his fake and kicked him in the ribs, making the man turn on his back.

"No doll, the Joker is much, uh, harder to killllll," he smirked as he looked down at the still living copycat. Oh this was a lovely moment in life—something that would get him out of his rut. The parody of him didn't even seem to be that injured as he looked down at him. Eyes were still alert although glazed with pain and tears. Joker glanced over where the man's eyes kept looking and saw the gun so very close to the uninjured fingers. Now, never to be one to kick a man when he's down, Joker decided to casually kick the gun under a food aisle. Awwww, was the copycat going to cry?

"You'll pay… I'm the Joker," he wheezed out in a nasally voice (his voice did NOT sound like that). Okay, honestly, this was just insulting and he was going to teach this fucker a few things about acting the part. For one, he knew the limits of the human body and this little grazed shot really should not hurt him like this… fucking nancy. He opened his mouth to make a joke or three when two men walked in the door (was today 'Interrupt Joker Day'?) but stopped short as they took in the scene.

"Sorry we're late… why are there two of you?" Joker glanced up from his copycat to see two casually dressed henchmen. It was probably because Joker had been very specific about his clothing choice when he left out that the idiots didn't run around like chickens without their heads at the sight of the wounded man. He supposed he shouldn't be too disappointed that he hired idiots because it wasn't their fault that they were so disposable.

"It seems that Batsy isn't the only one with a few uh admirrrrres. Happy, get the bags and Dopey get this bozo in the truck," he pointed to the two as though to slowly make them understand what he wanted them to do. The black haired man sighed and moved forward.

"My name is Edward," Happy muttered so low under his breath that Joker almost didn't catch it. Before he could remind the skinny man that he didn't give a fuck if his name was Jesus Christ, the sound of a barrel being loaded caught his attention. He slowly turned from his inspection of Happy and saw that the redhead was now holding the shotgun with green eyes solely on his face. Dopey had the bozo by one arm, looking as though he wasn't sure if he should load the body or pull out the gun that Joker demanded his henchmen keep on them at all times. In the end, his bright blue, slightly crossed eyes glazed over and he continued doing what he was doing as though nothing important was happening.

"What are you doing here, you murderer!?" the redhead spat, ignoring the cleanup going around her and focusing on the most dangerous person in the room. Joker put up his hands easily and smiled under his scarf, tongue coming out to lick at his always aching scars although he was a bit annoyed. What else would he be doing there other than shopping for food? It wasn't like he was crazy or anything glamorous like that. And seriously, calling him a murderer? That was just hurtful!

"Now, why don't you calm down uh, Red?" he drawled easily, taking a step closer even as the pants-less woman leveled the gun with his head. He wasn't exactly scared that she'd shoot him because if she did… well, she had better make sure that he was dead or she was liable to really become a real fire crotch. He giggled at his own, very bad joke and took another step closer.

"Uh… should I…?" Happy held up the bags he managed to grab. The redhead leveled the shotgun to him but found that this was the worst thing to do as Joker suddenly jumped over the counter and got a good hold of the long barrel. Before she could even think of pulling the trigger, he had the nozzle pressed underneath her chin and his finger laced with hers on the trigger. Cold sweat broke onto her forehead and the look of anger she had on her face was turned into something much more satisfying, something a bit more like heart stopping fear although she stubbornly attempted to squash it. That was so sweet.

"Please let her go," Harleen whimpered from somewhere in the background. Joker didn't even spare her a glance, his eyes looking deep into the forest green orbs before him. She kept very still, finger shaking under his as she was very aware how close to death she was at that very moment. It was a simple jerk away.

"Now, here's what's going to happen doll face. I'm going to take care of your clown pest as a gesture of good will because really, he's a bit uh… bright for my tastes," Joker tittered but sighed as his humor wasn't well received. Really, you would think that having a gun to someone's head would persuade them to get the stick out of their ass. He breathed heavily and licked at his scars once again, glancing behind himself to see that his henchmen were done with loading up the car. Well, that was nice—they even took the initiative and cleaned up the blood! Gold star for them.

"See, we're already half way through but your part…" suddenly he cleaned close to her face, eyes blazing with deep anger, "DO NOT MOVE!"

Red flinched hard but nodded hesitantly as she caught his drift of not moving the store more so than not moving in general. Ah, she was a smart girl. He smirked and pulled away from her, giving a short pat to her cheek as a sign of approval.

"Pammy!" Harleen shouted and launched herself at the redhead as soon as there was a single inch between them. Pamela caught her, gun falling to the ground in her effort to not drop her girlfriend. The two of them watched Joker with untrusting eyes as he sauntered out of the store although he paused at the door, reaching into his pockets.

"In case there are any more pests," he winked and threw down his card. Then he continued on as though nothing had happened, whistling rather happily along the way. He hopped into the plain minivan, throwing an arm around the shaking imposter.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry," the man whimpered, trying to get away from him. Joker slowly unwrapped his face and threw his hat somewhere behind him, allowing greasy green hair to tumble around his face in wild tendrils. His free hand was used to pull the hair in a more orderly fashion.

"Hiiii," Joker drawled in the very correct way instead of the fake nasally thing that came from this man's nose. He began to eye him more carefully, noting that although the colors were wrong and the fabrics doubly wrong, it wasn't a bad copy for the first try. Batman's copy hadn't even bothered to wear rubber or to be even vaguely in shape, at least this guy was around his size and height.

But ah… there was something missing. It was something that was very important, something that without it, you just couldn't be a very good Uncle J. Joker reached into his pockets and came up with a short knife—see, it always paid to remember a knife or two, one never realized when a dumbass would impersonate you and forget the most important detail of the entire costume. He moved with the speed that belied his usual lazy movements and straddled the man, shoving the dull blade into the man's mouth.

"You know this reminds me of a song and it goes a little something like this. Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly. They stand out a millllle but brother, you're never fully dressed without aaaaaaa S-M-I-L-E!" he sang loudly before yanking his hand quickly.

(**)

To Be Continued

Please stop me.