Disclaimer: I am just a lowly fanfiction writer. If you sue me, I will make big puppy dog eyes and you'll feel bad.
This is for that noble, almost-human porpoise. You know why.
Heat Wave, Crime Wave?
"Oh, God, no," Dr. Miller whispered. A single drop of sweat ran down his forehead to perch on the end of his long nose. Impatiently, he brushed it away. "Oh, God, no," he repeated. "Who escaped?" He willed his secretary to say something different this time. The poor girl was terrified, pale and shaking. She might have tried to lie for him, but in the end, it was just too much for her.
"All of them, sir. The entire block. The Joker, the Riddler, the Scarecrow, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Two-Face, Killer Croc, the Mad Hatter…"
"I see."
"King Tut, the Siren, the Black Widow, Egghead, the Bookworm, Shame, the Puzzler…"
"Yes, I understand."
"Abattoir, Great White, Tally Man…"
"I get it."
"West, Lecter, Cicierega, Rippner, Rainey, Ash Williams…"
"Shut up!" Miller yelled.
"And Louie the Lilac," she said huffily.
"Oh, God." His secretary cleared her throat.
"And the Sandman, Minerva, Lord Fogg…"
He pushed past her, out into the stifling hallway. First the air conditioning failure in the middle of the worst heat wave Gotham had ever seen, and now this arguably greater catastrophe.
"The Mad Hatter."
"You already said that."
"Doodlebug."
"Why haven't you stopped talking yet?"
"The 'yo-ho' pirates."
"Miss Meriweather, if you say one more word, I'm going to put you in a straitjacket and lock you in the nearest empty cell. And frankly, in this weather, I don't think you want that."
"No, sir." Subdued, the brushed her damp hair out of her eyes. "There are only a few more…"
"Don't tell me. Call Jim Gordon. For a breakout of this magnitude, we need Batman."
"Yes, Dr. Miller. I'll do that. Um…I forgot Maxie Zeuss." She disappeared into his office before he could deck her.
"Oh, God, no." He repeated it like a mantra as he walked down the hall, trying to make it untrue. The entire so-called supervillain block had simply picked up and walked out of the most secure prison for the criminally insane in the United States. And they had left no trace.
They were all out.
This would cost him his job. He would be lucky if that was the worst thing that happened.
Oh, God, no.
Why did it have to be today, he thought irritably, plucking his sweat-soaked shirt away from his skin. And why the air conditioner? Had it really broken down, or had they disabled it, to cause a distraction or out of sheer spite?
They must have displayed an uncommon amount of cooperation and teamwork. All of them working together…
Oh, God, no.
He opened the door to the meeting room and forced himself to go inside. All the windows were open, but the distinct lack of a breeze did very little to make the room feel less like the inside of an oven. And to make matters worse, unlike the hallway, this room was flooded with the stink of eleven men and four women, all sweating profusely. Miller glared and Dr. Hastings, whose cheap perfume did nothing to mask the smell of fear and heat. It wasn't her fault, but the sickening sweetness was already giving him a headache.
He grabbed a lukewarm bottle of water from the table and downed it. When he got home, if he got home, he was going to do the same to a cold beer, or six, or twelve. Oh, God.
"This is bad," he said. "I don't think I have to tell you how bad this is. My secretary has already contacted the police, who will be contacting Batman." A few of them looked disgruntled at that, but no one spoke up. "I know how some of you feel about Batman, but believe me, his involvement is necessary in this case." He wiped the sweat from his upper lip, absentmindedly, noticing for the first time that he needed a shave. Where had his mind been that morning? Not where it should have been. "I want every inch of the grounds searched, in case any of them are still here. Have the building searched, too. I want to know exactly how they managed this. And put extra security on the air conditioner crew when they arrive. Just to be on the safe side."
They jumped to obey his orders, not that it would do much good. Looking out the window at the Gotham skyline, Dr. Miller knew that it was all pointless. The inmates were long gone, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
It was all in the hands of God and Batman, now.
--
"Hey, Puddin'?" Harley Quinn said sweetly. The Joker ignored her, so she snuggled deeper into his embrace, enjoying both his nearness and the frigid air pouring out over them. "Puddin', how long do you think it'll take them to find us?"
"Who cares? I'd like to see them try to move us." He kicked out at a low-level goon who was edging closer to their position. "Back off, chump. This is our spot."
"Yo-ho," the pirate said dejectedly. Harley cuddled with the Joker, leaning back against the cold steel of the open door. Then another thought struck her.
"Puddin'? Is Mr. Freeze going to be okay?" She looked past her love clown into the frozen room where Mr. Freeze was lying on the floor, unconscious, overcome by the warm air that had flowed into his room when they opened his door. He had fallen while reaching out desperately for the locker that held the version of his protective suit that he was allowed to use for trips outside his room in Arkham. The poor guy looked just pathetic. "Maybe somebody should help him."
"Who cares?" the Joker repeated. With a shrug, Harley went back to snuggling.
"Hey, Puddin'?" she asked a little while later.
"What?"
"Well, this is nice and all, but since we're already out of our rooms, shouldn't we be trying to escape?"
"What are you, crazy?" the Joker asked. "You try running around outside on a day like this. I'm staying right here where it's cool."
P.S. I don't remember where I got the term "love clown" but I know it was from someone on here. I would give credit if I could remember who you are! Because I love that little phrase.