After the back of the bus slammed shut, the Joker aimed his gun at the roof and let loose a couple of shots. He wanted to intimidate the passengers, but the Joker also thought it would be oh so entertaining to watch their reactions. And they didn't disappoint. Those who had not passed out during the evacuation whipped their heads around in horror while a few others screamed and ducked their heads.

All eyes on me. Just how I like it. The manic clown suppressed a giggle as he looked over the terrified faces of some of the now-smoldering hospital's staff and patients. It mattered not that he was still wearing the stolen nurse-attire; in fact, his newest victims focused either on his painted face or the gun in his hand. The humor of the moment seemed to escape them.

The bus driver, one of the Joker's henchmen, started the yellow vehicle with a lurch and began to drive out of the hospital's large parking lot. The wheels on the bus go round and round…

"Congratulations," he announced in a sing-song voice, "it appears as though all of you have been selected to aid me in my quest for chaos. How very… Delightful!" The Joker bared his teeth in what appeared to be a smile and began to slowly saunter up the aisle. Despite the occasional bump on the road, the Joker never lost his footing.

His movements and the occasional twitch of his mouth mesmerized the captives. He couldn't help but cackle at the site of everyone's panicked faces and the lengths that they went to shrink down in their seats. Silly Gotham citizens, thinking they could just disappear into the cushions of their seats. Speaking of disappearing, the Joker had a magic trick involving paperclips and marbles that he was just dying to try out…

Wait a minute. The Joker's red-painted mouth twitched in annoyance. The frightened captives all had their faces somewhat turned towards him except for one dark-haired individual near the front. He didn't like that. It was so rude. Here he is, taking time out of his life to give these people a show, and one of them has the nerve to flat-out ignore him.

"Now this just won't do," he growled. With a few large steps the Joker was at the offender's seat in little under a second. It was a girl in her early twenties, with slightly wavy, thick black hair and medium-dark skin. She was wearing the usual bottomless hospital clothing they make patients wear, but with a pair of faded jeans and white socks on underneath. Her eyes were covered by a pair of large, black sunglasses.

A plump nurse with graying hair was sitting next to the girl and whimpered as the Joker glared down at the two of them. The girl continued to stare directly ahead, as if she were simply riding the bus to work, after not being evacuated from a hospital that had not just exploded in a burst of fire and smoke. How very not funny.

The Joker leaned over to grab the nurse's arm and practically threw her down the aisle. He could hear the faint noise of someone crying, and it lightened his mood a little bit, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

Angrily, the Joker snatched the girl's sunglasses and tossed them over his shoulder. She flinched and turned her face a little in his direction, but he wanted her to look at him. It was only when he put his face inches away from her's that he noticed the… oddness of her dark brown eyes. The pupils had been grayed over time with cataracts and they didn't seem able to adjust to the light.

He sat upright beside her and experimentally waved a pale hand in front of the girl's face. She grimaced after a second and snapped, "I know what you're doing. Just because I can't see your hand doesn't mean I can't feel it." A smile split across the Joker's face; making his Chelsea grin even wider as he began to giggle and laugh. He gleefully hugged himself as his body shook with a relentless, inhuman laughter. As the blind girl fully faced the Joker, the other passengers averted their gazes from the crazed clown and looked out the windows or down at their hands and feet. It was as if some unheard cue was given, and it caused the Joker to laugh even harder.

When he finished, he turned to find his new seat-partner glaring at him. Although she faced him, her eyes were not focused on his own. Apparently she thought him to be a few inches shorter. Another laugh bubbled up in the Joker's chest, but he was able to keep it under control this time.

"Why so serious?" he asked while brushing dust from his outfit. "Didn't anyone tell you that frowning gives you wrinkles? It's not pretty."

"It's a little hard to smile when my bus has been abducted." she spat.

The Joker grabbed the girl's face and pulled a knife from the front pocket of his uniform. "That's unfortunate. But I can make it so that you'll never have to worry about not smiling ever again!" Light from outside played across the weapon's sides and deadly edge as the Joker brushed it against the evacuee's lips. Her dark eyes seemed to cloud even more, yet she didn't even look fearful! Only a little bit confused and uncertain. The Joker's smile faded into a small frown, almost like a pout. Did the blind girl even know what the cold on her mouth was?

Her inability to see the glint of the knife and his face in all its made-up glory was disappointing in the least. All he wanted was to see her pretty little face contorted with horror, but no. She just had to be blind. How not fun. It was depressing. His mouth twitched as he licked his bright red lips.

"You're ruining all of my fun." The Joker whined. The knife slipped back into the front pocket, but his black-encircled eyes remained on the girl beside him. He was about to tell her that if she was trying to stare him in the eyes she was missing by a couple of inches, when a sudden, horrible thought jolted through his mind. "You do know who I am, right?"

It was the girl's turn to laugh. Or, rather, make a sarcastic huffing-sound while giving Gotham's most feared criminal an awkward little half-smile. "Of course I do." Her head had turned to face forward once more. "I've listened in on conversations; gathered what little information I could get." She blinked once, and the Joker wondered if that was the first time she had closed her eyes since he sat down next to her or if it was the first time he had noticed.

"But no one will tell me what you look like." She placed her hands carefully on her knees, but the Joker still saw their slight tremble. "I've asked just about every nurse and doctor in that place, but it's like even describing you is forbidden. They take it for granted, knowing what a person looks like."

"Well, uh…" The Joker glanced down at the patient identification on her wrist. It read, "Lorrel, Heather" and then a bunch of random hospital garbage. "Heather, is it? I could always-"

"Do you know how I get a sense of what people look like?" she interrupted, her voice angry and hurt. "I feel them! I have to feel their faces!" As if to demonstrate, she raised both hands out in front of her. "I can't just feel the damn newspaper and know what people look like! Sometimes I just wish I-"

The Joker caught both of her hands and placed them on either side of his face. It was one of his more spontaneous moments. He shrugged inwardly; it appeared as though he were having a lot of those lately. But the Joker admitted to himself that he didn't like the idea of there being a Gotham citizen who hadn't been graced with the pleasure of seeing his made-up face and those famous scars. Even if they did need to feel his face in order to see him.

He felt Heather flinch at his touch, and for a moment she froze. But after a second or two her fingers glided across the Joker's face. In her mind a picture of the Clown Prince of Crime slowly formed. She was slightly surprised by the uneven surface of his scars, but suddenly all that talk about his fear-inducing smile made sense. But what surprised her most was by how not deformed the rest of his face was…

Perhaps her light touch on the Joker's scars paused a moment too long, for he grinned deviously and asked, "I bet you're wondering about the scars."

"No, actually… it's just that you're-"

"…Boss?"

The Joker spun around to face his bus-driving henchman. "What!" Couldn't the idiot see that he was busy?

"We're uh… Here…"

The Joker glared at his mask-free minion. "Then start setting up!" he growled. …When was the last time he had blown something up? Oh, right. The hospital. Well, that was a long enough time ago. The Joker figured it was about time to give Gotham City another dose of the anarchy it so desperately needed. Not to mention a sense of humor.

He turned back to Heather and gave her a hyena smile she could not see. "It was so very pleasant talking to you Heather. Unfortunately I need to leave, for I am a very busy man. Tick tock tick tock. I'd love to stay and chat but there are people to play with and bats to break." He chuckled and patted Heather on the head.

The girl was slightly taken aback. To tell the truth, she had been expecting the Joker to light the bus on fire or something. "That's it? You're just going to leave us here?"

The Joker got up and grinned at the shaking civilians around him. "Oh, nonononono. You see, I still need you. All of you…"

A group of the Joker's henchmen boarded the bus, wearing what looked like doctor's coats and carrying clown masks. "But don't worry. All you have to do is try not to get shot." He paused. "Actually, you don't even have to do that." The Joker suddenly burst into his high-pitched tone of laughter; pushing roughly past his nervous henchmen to jump giddily off the bus.

Heather frowned. Though she was loathe to admit it, the blind girl had kind of liked the maniac's company. A small piece of her wanted to run after the mysterious man and pelt him with questions. But what she'll never forget was how willingly he let her touch his face. Most other people felt awkward about it, which made her feel weird, and resulted in a fragmented mental image.

As she sat and listened to the noises of the henchmen and the other captives, a little twisted piece of Heather wished that she could be as free of rules and morals as the Joker.

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