A/N:

Me- Hi everyone! This is my first Batman Fanfic so-

Joker- Kiss ass.

Me- Joker, I told you I'll call for you. You're supposed to be at Arkham!

Joker- And you're supposed to be doing homework.

Me- Fuck you.

Batman- Watch your mouth.

Me- Oh my God, just read the story already!

Joker- Let's dance, Batsy!

(Joker and Batman start fighting in the background.)

Me- Also, favorite and I will most likely write more!

Batman- Joker, what are you doing?!

Joker- Oh, just loosening up your belt for later. *winks*

Batman- JOKER!
Me- *grabs video camera* Later!

Joker- New Imput

Encounter #215

I landed atop of the GCPD building, expecting Gordon but found the Joker waiting for me. He greeted me with a bow and turned off the Batsignal. After asking him why he was here he stared at me, a smile growing on his lips. He then replied with, "Let's dance."

Proceeding to pull out a knife, Joker laughed wildly and swung at me. His talent with knives has repeatedly surprised me, getting so close as to slice my shoulder. As a reaction, threw a batarang at him, knocking the blade out of his hands. Thereafter I tackled him to the ground, straddling his body and pinning his arms. Joker grinded into me, a masochistic trait I've begun to notice, distracting me.

That is by surprising me. He distracted me by surprising me.

He then landed a backfist to a weaker part of my mask, disorienting me.

Batcomputer- Note; Contact Lucuis about the weak spot in my cowl.

Joker- Resume

When I was back on my feet he was flying away in a helicopter with Harley Quinn. I have only encountered her twice, but she is dangerous, and surprisingly the Joker has kept her alive for over three weeks. The common limit for henchmen is a week and a half. She also seems to have a sexual obsession with the clown. The closest thing to love a person like them can get.

Joker- End Imput

A ding from the large computer in front of him echoed through the bunker, just as Alfred came over with a clean T-shirt and some sweatpants. Bruce exited out of the main files to the live news stream, taking off his cowl.

"Back from a long night of crime fighting, I see." The British man addressed, setting down the clothes on a chair. He noticed the dried blood on the outside of the billionaire's torn suit, sighing inwardly and grabbing the first aid kit.

"Alfred, I'm fine. Just a scratch." He began to peel off the ruined armor, only to feel the sting of rubbing alcohol. The liquid set his skin on fire but he only let out a ragged breath. After rubbing off the blood, Alfred looked a bit closer at the wound.

"I guess it was just a scratch. My condolences, sir." Bruce let out a muffled laugh, grabbing the clothes from the other chair and putting them on. The sound of ruffled fabric made him think back to his recent fight with the Clown Prince of Crime. Both him and Alfred were ready to leave when a quiet ding gained a questioning look from both men. Turning to look at one of the many computer screens, they noticed a message box had popped up.

Don't leave yet.

"Sir, who is that?" The butler asked, walking over to his master, equally alarmed. Bruce sat back down in his chair and began to run security checks, starting with the firewall. It was up and running fine. Another ding.

I bypassed the main fram, then programmed it to recognize me as a user, not a threat. You've got good security. Took me two weeks to get in.

The men looked at each other, worried. This programing was supposed to be uncrackable. The CIA tried to hack the system once, and they couldn't get through it after months of trying. Another ding from the computer echoed through the room, the screen showing a sad face.

I'm not very patient Bruce. You really should talk to me.

"Alfred, go back to the pent house. I'll be up in a bit." Bruce lightly commanded, beginning to type. The older man scoffed, looking at Bruce incredulously.

"Pardon me for saying this, but I'm going to stay down here until we find out who this person is and-"

"Please Alfred." He said with a bit more force. Alfred looked at the screen for a second more, then reluctantly left. Bruce could tell this would start an argument later but ignored it. Protecting Batman was all he cared about now. He began to type.

Who are you?

The infamous playboy waited, fingers on his temple. So many questions where racing through his mind. How could this happen? How could he let this happen? Would this be the end of Batman? A ringtone on the computer brought him out of his snowball of worries. It was... a video call? No time for talking, Bruce thought and declined the call, not even looking to see who it was. Whoever this is was taking a long time to answer. Another video call chimed in, its soothing melody becoming quite annoying. He was about to decline it again when a message popped up.

Answer it if you want to know who I am, Bats.

Bruce paused and looked at the name of the caller, Ace of Hearts. He couldn't place it but that name set off a spark of familiarity in his head. Maybe he knew this person. Slowly, the billionaire moved the mouse over to the call. He hesitated before he picked up, deciding to tape the conversation for evidence. If he didn't know who it was, he could use facial recongnition to find out. Finally, he hit accept. The memory of a lost friend filled his mind as the hacker was shown. He recognized her face all to well.

"Hey, Bruce. Long time no see."

"Mistah J! Mistah J!" Harley called out from the mess hall. Using a broken down jail as a hide out had many perks, and a kitchen was one of them. Joker growled from the guard lookout and set down his pencil. Joker may not plan but it doe help to write down some words for his next scheme.

"What, Harley?! I'm trying to concentrate!" He yelled, slamming his fist on the table. He was going to hold Gotham High hostage, as tonight is their prom. He doesn't remember his prom, so he decided to steal this one. It would defiantly get Batsy's attention.

"I'm sorry puddin'," She pouted, her Boston accent as prominent as ever, "But I found a package outside the entrance." Joker's eyes almost popped out of his skull.

"What?!" He yelled, furious. Walking over to Harley he noticed there was, in fact, a small box wrapped in home-made smiley face paper. He snatched the box from her, giving it a quick look over for any tricks that would end in death or severe pain. Joker may be a bit of a masochist, but even he has a breaking point. Although he might not say so, he still had a bit of humanity left.

Too light to be a bomb, he's sent a couple to some mobsters. Too small to be a rabid animal too (What? He's done that before too). Slowly, Joker unwrapped the package, being careful not to pull and wires attached to a grenade or something. Once he got down to the box, the anticipation was killing him. The clown ripped open the box, tearing it to shreds. But when he saw what was inside, his heart sank.

"Puddin'? Are you okay?" Harley asked hesitantly, peeking over his shoulder and into the box. There was not many things that could scare Joker, and all that does should be taken deathly serious. All she saw was a purple and green key and a silver butterfly knife.

"Harley, dear." Joker addressed slowly, licking his lips. "Grab my coat, I need to go meet an old, ah, friend." After she had scurried away, Joker picked up the knife, carefully, and opened it. He hoped he would never have to see this again.

As soon as Harley was within arms reach, Joker was heading out the door, putting on his coat in the process. The mysterious key was safely inside his pocket, clanking with several grenade pins he'd collected over the years. He was doing tricks with the blade and opening the front door when Harley called out.

"What's happening?" She frowned, messing with her ruined blonde hair. The random henchmen they lived with began to circle around her, noticing in their brainless trance that their leader was leaving. Joker didn't even look back.

He pulled out his cell phone once outside, dialing a number he memorized just for this occasion.

"Yes, Ozzy. It's time. Where's Avis?"