Written by Disoriented11, enjoy!
Summary: Another Joker broadcast has taken everybody by surprise, even the Joker himself. Its got everything; action, comedy, romance, suspense and a happy ending! But for who?
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I have written this for entertainment purposes only and hopefully people will enjoy it as such.
Kiss Me, Kill Me
All over Gotham, citizens watched the TV. Be it the news, a talk show, a soap opera or those annoying ads between programs, they watched. Even Batman, ...umm, I mean Bruce Wayne, your normal everyday billionaire, happened to be watching that day. He sat at his breakfast table, wearing nothing but a pair of dark pants, and starring at the screen in a sort of listless half asleep manner. This type of pointless inaction was unusual of Bruce but he was exhausted from a long endless night of...partying. So he was too sore to do much else.
"Master Bruce, do you plan on finishing your breakfast?" Alfred, the ever faithful Wayne butler asked, his tone perfectly polite even as he gave Bruce a very disapproving stare. It was a well known fact in Wayne manor that Alfred disapproved of Bruce's nightly activities. Bruce simply grunted.
"Of course, calling it breakfast is perhaps a little inaccurate." Alfred continued, glancing out the large windows very pointedly. It was clear from the position of the sun, it was almost noon.
Bruce sighed and glanced down at his omelet. Then he looked up at his butler. "I'll finish it." After all, once Bruce Wayne started something he finished it.
"Very well, Sir." Alfred said calmly, completely unaffected by Bruce's hard manner. "I'm sure you realize you need your energy if you want to enjoy another night similar to last." Alfred said his last sentence over his shoulder as he left the room, off to no doubt dust. Or something or other. Bruce narrowed his eyes at the departing butler, and then looked back to the TV screen. Alfred was right of course. As much as he would have loved to sleep for a week, he had a manhunt to continue down stairs. After all, Bruce Wayne didn't become your everyday successful playboy billionaire by being lazy. No, he became that by having wealthy parents.
So Bruce dug into his breakfast omelet, reaching over to change the channel on the TV from the weather channel to news. No doubt his 'party' last night would have made the headlines by now.
"-has been apprehended. Last night, Pamela Isely or "Poison Ivy" was located and arrested with the assistance of Batman. There have been rumors that fear gas containers were discovered at the scene. However, whether Poison Ivy has been working with the on-the-loose criminal Jonathan Crane has not been confirmed. Jonathan Crane or 'Scarecrow' has killed twenty people in terrorist attacks scattered all over Gotham since his escape from Arkham Asylum last week. Whether he has been partnered with Poison Ivy or not, there is no doubt that he will strike again soon." Bruce grimaced. Poison Ivy and Scarecrow had killed more than twenty people.
Angrily Bruce picked up his fork and started his omelet, setting aside his feelings of guilt. He could accept his failures. But after this meal he would go down to his secret off limits 'basement' and put an end to this.
"-and on another note, the Mayor's speech last week has-" Bruce blinked in surprise as the screen suddenly filled with static. Then it resolved into black and then finally the picture came back into focus. However, it wasn't the face of the reporter. Instead it was of a room lit only by, what Bruce judged, was a small dirty window off screen. The carpet was thick and plush, there was an old bright red sofa in a corner and a desk with papers piling up on top of it and on the floor surrounding it. The walls had peeling floral wallpaper. Lastly, the whole room was at a low side angle like the camera was laying sideways on the floor.
It wasn't like Bruce was all that interested in the Mayor's speech but this was clearly not improved television. For a second he considered the idea that his TV was malfunctioning in some sort of way, as unlikely as that was. However, Bruce could easily dismiss the malfunction possibilities when his sharp eyes spotted a deck of cards scattered on the carpet. All jokers. Bruce glared at the screen, knowing what this was. The Joker loved hacking the TV networks.
"Oops." Squeaked a voice, female and annoyingly high pitched.
"Hey, don't drop that, its high tech equipment, lady!" Said a male voice.
"Oh, relax, Bif!" Giggled that female voice. The room suddenly shifted as the camera was picked up. A normal looking guy came into view, looking at the person behind the camera skeptically. And when Bruce thought normal, he meant it. The guy was caucasian, brown haired, brown eyed and basically average in every way. It wouldn't have been all that noticeable if you saw him on the street somewhere. But on the TV, you get so used to pretty people with lots of makeup that the guy just felt weird.
"I already have the hack set up at the click of a button, this is delicate. Also, my names not Bif." The guy said sullenly. The camera was casually hefted up a bit and Bif, or actually, Not-Bif went out of focus for a second, half of his body disappearing off shot. Bruce raised an eyebrow. This was not what he was expecting. Every Gotham citizen had pretty much gotten a feel for how a Joker broadcast went. It wasn't that he did it a lot, it was just really memorable when he did. Bruce in particular had a very good understanding of how the clown thought and he knew the Joker would never allow a broadcast that didn't have him center stage.
Bruce stood up, wincing slightly but standing strong. But then he hesitated. This broadcast was different from the rest. It might offer him some specific clue of where the Joker was if he watched it carefully. And it would take him too long to go down stairs to watch it. Also, trying to track these broadcasts had never worked before. On the other hand, he had to try every possibility, let nothing slip by. So, sitting back down, he decided on the best compromise.
"Alfred!"
Meanwhile the strange scene on the TV was still going, the female voice saying, "Ok then, sweetie." The camera shifted again and the room turned upside down like somebody had put it under their arm. More specifically Harley Quinn, Joker's ... girlfriend, put it under her arm. Bruce could easily recognize the voice. It wasn't like she kept a low profile or anything. "Why don't you-" Harley started.
"HARLEY!" Bruce grimaced at this new voice. This one he could easily recognize as well.
"You called, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, stepping in the room.
"Harley! Where did you put the matches?" Alfred raised an eyebrow, clearly recognizing the voice as well.
"Ah, I see. Right away, Master Bruce." And then Alfred left. The butler knew exactly what to do. Alfred was, after all, you efficient professional butler to the very T.
"I put them next to the grenades, Puddin'!" Harley called.
"They're not there!"
"Underneath the gasoline!"
"I told you, Harley, they're not there." And then the Joker came into view on the camera. He was, of course, wearing his purple suit with the long suit tails and deceptively innocent flower poking out of the button hole. But his sleeves were rolled up, green hair falling into his eyes and he wasn't wearing his normal dark shoes and gloves. Bruce could see his glossy black nails in sharp contrast to his white skin. A decidedly informal look for the clown. And yes, through the camera he was upside down. But the odd angle seemed to almost fit the Joker's bizarre appearance. The view shifted, the camera was dropped on a table, still upside down and finally Harley Quinn came into view, wearing all her make up and costume except the hat. Her blond hair, as ever, was pulled up into pig tails.
The Joker frowned at her. Bruce didn't miss the henchman, Not-Bif, easing carefully out of the room.
"What are you doing?" The Joker demanded.
"Preparing for a broadcast, Mr. J, like you said."
"Did I? Is that why you dropped the equipment?"
"How did-?" Harley cut herself off, shifting her shoulders in embarrassment and Bruce could easily imagine her blushing under the make up. "Oops?" She smiled nervously. The Joker clucked disappointedly at her, waging a finger.
"You could have at least made a bang, Harley girl." His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "Now go find the matches and try not to fumble that as well." With his grip on her wrist, Joker tossed Harley toward the door and out of view of the camera. There was an awkward moment of silence for the audience, that is, all of Gotham as the Joker frowned after her. Then the clown broke into a giggle.
His sick grin slipped back on his face and he strolled up to the camera, idly facing it right side up. The Joker raised an eyebrow thoughtfully at the camera, slicking back his hair and brushing his already spotless lapels. Bruce wasn't sure if the clown could see is reflection or whether he was imagining an audience to prune in front of, but it didn't last very long either way. Bruce was grateful for this. The Joker was in the process of straightening his bow tie when suddenly a shape flew across the camera vision, knocking the Joker out of sight. Bruce starred as the broadcast became even more bizarre.
"Mister J! HELP!" Harley's squealing voice called out and Bruce realized she was the one that had tackled the Joker off screen.
"Harley! What are you-" The Joker's voice was suddenly muffled and Bruce couldn't make a thing out, especially with Harley starting to sob loudly.
"Save me, Mister J! Oh GOD! They're coming, the-" There was suddenly a loud slapping sound and the Joker rose into sight, looking slightly rumpled and very pissed off. He reached down and pulled Harley up, gripping her shoulders tightly.
"What are you babbling about?" He snapped. Harley's whole demeanor had changed from the beginning of the broadcast, only a minute ago. She was shaking, her eyes wide and the tears streaming down her face was smearing her make up. Dark shadows had spread down her cheeks. She didn't reply, just quivered her lip and starred up at the Joker with huge helpless eyes. He slapped roughly across the cheek, gritting his teeth angrily. "HARLEY!"
And suddenly, just as abruptly as when Harley came flying into the room, a plethora of other people, what Bruce assumed was henchmen, burst in. They were yelling, shrieking, looking over their shoulders in terror and even attacking each other. The Joker wasn't run over by sheer force of will or perhaps it was the expert footwork. He had dropped the shaking form of Harley like a sack of potatoes, leaned against the wall, away from the chaos and was now laughing. Harley's sobs crescendoed in time with the Joker's maniacal laugh.
For most people, this simply wouldn't track. But Bruce had reached the same understanding of the scene as the Joker, and in normal twisted Joker fashion, it all made sense.
"Trying to make an entrance, are you?" The Joker called out loudly. "Oooh, I'm just shaking in my boots." He let out a giggle and then left the room. All Bruce could see now was terrified henchmen clawing at each, crouching or even standing frozen, eyes rolling in horror.
"I'm afraid your efforts are wasted, Scarey!" Joker's voice called out from the other room. "Though I walk through the comfort of the shadow of madness, I shall fear no evil!" Laughter erupted. It was suddenly cut off and there was a loud thump against the wall. Bruce had to strain to hear the next words.
"You damn meddling fool!" Hissed a voice.
"What's bothering you this time, Scarey?" Joker's words were easier to hear, his high voice carrying far better then the intruders. "Oh, let me guess. Did the other kids on the playground pick on you again? Has your straw gotten soggy? Or maybe its because your green girlfriend just got-"
"SHUT UP! I know what you did! Why the hell did you interfere?" There was a chuckle.
"Johnny boy, you didn't attack me in my humble abode just to ask that, did you? What is this, revenge? How laughable! HaAAhaHAhAahaa!" Bruce could actually hear Scarecrow snarl. Scarecrow. Jonathan Crane. The man he had spent the past week tracking down. Bruce stood up, his pain forgotten, eyes riveted to the screen. He couldn't see the Joker or Scarecrow but there was a strange change going on in the henchmen. The thugs, about seven in all, were no longer shaking but were all now standing to attention, their heads tilted to the side like they were listening to something but their eyes still wide and fearful. Harley came in view, standing up from where the Joker had dropped her.
They were no more words from Scarecrow or Joker but Bruce could make out some thumping noises and grunts as well as a few breathless chuckles. They were fighting. And while neither men were particular skilled or imposing, Bruce knew the Joker would win in a one on one fight. He was more experienced in combat, especially dirty fighting, and he was taller and stronger as well as having a higher endurance.
Bruce growled in frustration. He still couldn't see the window to the room and there was nothing else to offer a possible location to this scene. He could only stand and watch as Gotham's most wanted had a fist fight. Or rather, stand and listen. Not too mention the sheer ridiculousness of this, the happenstance broadcast and Scarecrow's shockingly bold attack on Joker in his own hideout irritated Bruce's sense of reality.
Joker's people, seemingly in control of themselves now, filed out of the room, Harley in front. Bruce strained his ears but Joker and Scarecrow's words were too low to hear now. He could only make out a commanding 'Ha!' from Scarecrow and a wild short laugh from Joker followed by a loud bang. There was a ominous silence. And then-
CRACK!
The old cracked wall of the room suddenly exploded outward, the Joker smashing through to land on the red sofa.
"Well, what do you know. Batman never throws me through walls so thoughtfully." Joker coughed with a lazy grin, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at the sofa. Bruce wrinkled his brow in confusion, unable to track what exactly was going on.
Despite the gaping hole in the wall, Scarecrow used the door, entering with faux politeness. Seeing him for the first time, Bruce noted that he was wearing his mask but the rest of his normal clothes were replaced by a T-shirt, suit jacket and slacks. Either this attack was very spur of the moment or Scarecrow wanted to keep the whole thing casual and friendly. The second possibility was rather unlikely. Behind him, Joker's crew entered back into the room. They seemed to have eyes only for Scarecrow, starring at him with a silent fearful obedience.
"Harley, you're not breaking up with me, are you? Or breaking sideways, as these circumstances seem to show." Joker said waving at the broken wall. But despite who he was talking to, his eyes were fixed on Scarecrow, just like the rest of them.
"The results of the combined efforts of Pamela and me. Surely you did not expect me to confront you weaponless?" The Scarecrow lifted up something in his hand as he spoke but Bruce couldn't see it at this angle.
"Hmmmm, I knew there was something different. And of course, you never would have dared to come here unless you had some flashy new ace in the hole." The Joker started to sit up but at the Crown Prince of Crime's motion, two guys, at a look from Scarecrow, stepped forward threateningly, cracking their knuckles. The Joker put up a hand and smiled.
"Calm down, boys. Lets not do something we'll regret."
"Too late for that." Scarecrow declared. "You will regret your actions against me, clown. I know it was you who killed that last victim. Killed him and left clues to lead directly to us. It was sheer luck that I was not arrested with Ivy last night in that warehouse!"
"Oh, don't be straw-headed, Scarey! I'm sure the Batman would have tracked you down eventually. Good old Batsy is stiffer then a corpse but he's consistent." The Joker leaned forward. "Who knows, maybe he's already discovered this little Ha-hasinda. Maybe he's watching us, he could be right outside the door!"
"Stop it, Joker!" Scarecrow stepped forward, and the men all shifted with him, a strange sight that made the skinny small Jonathan Crane far more intimidating. Bruce could theorize what kind of compound would have this effect. Some kind of strange mix between Ivy's mind controlling hormone drug and Crane's infamous fear toxin. The raw intelligence behind many of his enemies was a frightening thing alone. Combined, it was a nightmare.
Scarecrow must have found a way to slip it into Joker's hideout, unnoticed. As for whether it was a good thing the Joker was once again immune to a mysterious evil toxin was yet to be seen. It certainly didn't come as a surprise for Bruce.
"Sir." Bruce turned to see Alfred standing at the door. "I can not track the signal. I have set up monitors to analyze the video as well as keep in contact with police communications. It seems that degenerate has once again slipped through, however." Alfred walked over to sit down at the table and Bruce returned to his own seat, grim faced.
"Very well." Bruce replied, briskly, absorbing the information and turning his attention once again to the TV. His momentary distraction had caused him to miss the Joker's reply, though it was no doubt more of the same.
"I'm tired of your games, Joker. I'm talking to you only because I hoped there was some actual reason, no matter how crazy or petty, for you to have ruined my plans with Ivy. I see now the effort was pointless though the trip wasn't. I'm here to hide out. I can't be caught by the Batman, not now! I can rest assured that nobody will miss your men and I must admit, this is a brilliant place to stay know I don't subscribe to revenge." The Joker laughed, throwing his head back and even placing a hand to his forehead.
"Don't make me laugh, Scarey, I'm more than willing to do it on my own." The Joker giggled. "You and me both know with that new intoxicating perfume you could hide out many places. You just like to kill two bats with one stone, add in a little personnel satisfaction on the side, am I right? As it happens, I do as well." The Joker sat up and the henchmen once again approached menacingly but this time the Joker ignored them, flipping himself up to sit on the back of the sofa and out of their reach. "Of course, I had to no idea it would work this well! Not even the Batman knows I spend summer vacation here! I didn't expect you for another," The Joker paused to look at an invisible watch on his wrist, "...oh, hour! at least. I thought I would have to give you one big fat subtle hint, all experienced in the comfort of your own living room!" Joker declared, throwing his arms out. Bruce couldn't see Scarecrow's expression but he saw the man's body tense.
"You..." The Scarecrow's head turned, searching the room nervously and for one second he was starring straight into the eye of the camera. His head whipped back to Joker. "It wasn't luck that I was out of the warehouse, you busted my tires! And I thought it had only been a prank!" Scarecrow snarled bitterly.
"Oohhh, he's sharp!" The Joker whistled to the surrounding henchmen. "But don't you see, Scarey? It is a prank! All of it! Life in general, really, but that's a conversation for another time. Normally, I try to be a bit more creative with my pranks, but then again, we've only just gotten started."
"Kill him!" Scarecrow said to his drones without pause, apparently not so confident in the situation. The men pushed forward, three of them pulling knives and guns but the rest ready to do the job bare handed. The Joker pulled something out of his suit pocket in a flash, brandishing it forward like a sword. It was a detonator.
"Is that something in your pockets, boys, or are you just glad to see me?" The Joker smiled. The men didn't pause or even respond to the Joker's words. The first man had just grabbed Joker but the suit front, Scarecrow had just time to cry out in alarm before the Joker pressed down on the button.
It was hard to make out what happened next. There was the sound of multiple explosions, and for a second red flashed across the scene. The camera shook and, with the table it had been on, it fell to the floor with a resounding thunk. Dust drifted across the screen, obscuring the room completely. For a second there was only the sound a few groans, mostly silence.
"You maniac!" Scarecrow practically roared with anger. "You killed your own men!" The Joker's laugh sounded pained but as strong as ever.
"I was expecting you. I knew they would be turned against me, now they're turned inside out!" The Joker's laugh turned maniacal, like he would never stop.
"All of, this trickery and manipulations, it was all to steal my toxin!" Scarecrow's voice yelled angrily. Then it shifted to something more dangerous. "You did it because you were scared of Ivy, didn't you? Didn't want to face her. So you got rid of her and got me to deliver the toxin to you on a platter. But you've underestimated me." Any other person would have startled back but Bruce watched coldly as Scarecrow's mask jerked into view, so close to the camera you could see the stitching. The man was on the ground, most likely thrown there same as the camera, and in one hand he held what he had brought forth earlier. This time, though, Bruce could see what it was. A gas container, the size of a palm, with some kind of spray nozzle on the top. Even now, you could see soft green smoke dissolving into the air, pressed out by Scarecrow's white knuckled grip.
The Joker had stopped laughing. The Scarecrow's other hand shot out grabbed something off screen.
"Ivy?" Joker spat. His voice was now loud, close to the camera's microphone but you could not see him. "That dirty, green, tree humper?" Scarecrow's arm twisted and pulled the Joker toward him with a jerk. The Joker came into view, looking slightly more worse for wear then before. There was blood on his face and clothes, though it most likely wasn't his. However his suit front looked burned and the Joker wrapped an arm around his chest like it pained him. He glared at Scarecrow fiercely but his eyes lacked the normal focus.
"Yes, her." Scarecrow replied. "But Ivy wouldn't have known your hideout location as I did. She would have fallen into your trap smoothly."
"And you didn't?" Joker interrupted. Scarecrow ignored him.
"I refuse to be ignored, Joker! I will be feared! And also," The Scarecrow paused and Bruce could well imagine him smiling beneath the mask. "You missed a spot." Red gloved hands suddenly came into sight digging into the Joker's purple suit and pulling upward and back so that he was still in shot. Harley Quin dexterously wrapped on arm tight around the Joker's neck, a knife in her other hand ready to plunge into his throat. Harley, just like Joker and Scarecrow, was slightly worse for wear, blood running down the side of her face, ruining her makeup even more, and her costume burned on the forearms. Scarecrow stood, somewhat shakily, moving out of frame. But you could hear his voice as clear as ever.
"Forgot to slip one on the old girl, did you? Or is there some semblance of sentimentality in you after all?" The Joker smiled though it looked rather strained, his breath coming in slight gasps due to Harley's hold. He looked off screen, no doubt at the Scarecrow's face.
"Tell me there are more then two options, I would hate to be so limited."
"What were you going to do with the toxin anyway? What was so important that you did this?" It was clear what the Scarecrow was referring to because by now the dust had completely settled. You could see bodies on the floor, blood pooling around them as well as spattered on the walls. It could have been shocking except Bruce knew what kind of real destruction could happen if either one of these men really put their minds to it. That didn't help his mood.
"Can I answer question one first? Only I got a killer answer!" The Joker sung out. Apparently, however, Scarecrow didn't want to stick around for Joker's answer.
"Harley!" He ordered. The 'rip his throat out now!' was implied. Harley was looking in the Scarecrow's direction with wide eyes, her attention on him not breaking for a second, but her arm tightened around the Joker. She stabbed the cool blade down at his neck, teeth gritted. The Joker jerked at the last second, causing the knife to miss its mark though it still sliced into his skin, spilling blood. But the Joker had twisted in her arms just enough to turn and be face to face with Harley. He had to bend his legs and lean over slightly but he was face to face with her. Eyes still on the Scarecrow, Harley raised the bloody knife again.
And then the Joker kissed her, full on deep french kiss, lifting his arms to wrap around her thin shoulders. For the first time Harley's eyes looked away from the Scarecrow's direction, wide in shock. She was frozen, knife still raised hovering above the Joker's back. Then she practically collapsed. Her eyes drifted close, she sagged in the Joker's grip and she dropped the knife to dig her hands into the Joker's green hair, running her fingers through it with a passion. For one second they seemed practically in the throws of love making and then the Joker broke away. He lifted her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style, and Harley, eyes closed and body limp, sighed with some deep satisfaction. It was like all the fear and tension in her from before was sucked out.
"It's simple. There wasn't any need to blast her, Johnny boy, because only I control my harlequin." The Joker couldn't possibly have looked more smug, smiling widely. "I always did think you're theories of fear being the one true motivator to be ...lacking. Positively spineless, really." There was a soft thud as something hit the floor and quick footsteps. Scarecrow came into view, backing toward the door. He had dropped his toxin container and now held a gun tightly in his hands, pointing it at the Joker.
"You bastard."
"Oooh, a gun. Finally changing with the times, are you, Scarey? Too slow." The Joker tossed his hand expertly, even with Harley in his arms, and a gun slipped out of his sleeve and pointed directly at Scarecrow. He must have picked it off one of the now dead henchmen after the explosion. Or maybe he simply hadn't wanted to pull it out during his fight with Scarecrow before. Logic wasn't really the Joker's specialty.
Scarecrow was frozen, the mask making his expression impossible to read although Bruce's sharp eyes could see tremors of fear in his legs. The Joker on the other hand was relaxed and smiling. In fact, the sharp focus had returned to his eyes and the blood covering him made him look positively demented. Bruce couldn't say who would shoot first and he never found out. For Harley had opened her eyes, lifted her arms and had pulled the Joker's face toward hers in another kiss. Scarecrow turned tail and ran, slamming the door shut behind him and disappearing off screen.
The Joker jerked angrily away from Harley, firing his gun after the Scarecrow but it was too late. The Joker, raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, looking down at Harley. For a second, Bruce thought he might actually shoot her. He looked at her with a neutral expression, something dangerous behind his eyes.
"Mr. J..." Harley breathed softly. She smiled up at him and, from her sleeve, lifted a pack of matches. The dangerous glint melted away and the Joker smiled back.
"Heres looking at you, kid." He said with a wink. Harley squeaked with happiness as the Joker pulled her into another kiss. He slowly lifted her down as they kissed, Harley touching the ground with tip toes, the Joker lowering her down into a dramatic dip. Bruce glared.
The criminal pair kissed with equal passion and it was also with equal passion that they responded to the door flying open. The Joker aimed his gun once more and Harley whipped out another knife before their lips had even separated. Bruce had no idea where she could have stashed it on her tight costume. Maybe she had pulled it somewhere off the Joker.
But the person standing in the door wasn't Scarecrow. It was the first henchman from before, Not-Bif. His hands shot up in shock from Joker and Harley's reaction, but it was nothing compared to the shock on his face when he took in the room. The gas mask in his hand fell to the floor and Not-Bif gabbed at the blood, bodies and the hole in the wall above the sofa.
"B-boss?" He asked in shock. Joker and Harley had lowered their weapons and Joker spread out his arms in greeting.
"You! How good of you too finally join us! I see you sussed out the evil Scarecrow plot very early. And also, lucky you, you were outside the range of the detonator. Care to explain your lack of sharing this intuition?" Not-Bif swallowed and glanced at the gun still in the Joker's hand.
"I was in the computer room, clear on the other side of the house. I didn't know what was going on till I turned on the TV."
"Really?" Joker asked, his voice turning dangerous. "You need to explain better then that."
"What I mean is," Not-Bif spluttered, "it was on TV! Us, that is, you and-and Scarecrow! The broadcast was somehow turned on!" Joker's interest was was peeked and suddenly he was smiling at the henchmen like he was his best friend.
"Really? Harley, wheres the camera?" Joker demanded. Harley tapped her teeth with her nail thoughtfully, seeming to float on clouds with happiness as she searched the room.
"There it is, Mr. J!" She called happily, skipping over. She picked it up, facing the camera at herself and beaming into the lens, blocking the room from sight. Bruce could still hear the Joker speaking though.
"The hack was triggered? Is it still going? When did it first start? Well, Lars?" Joker said rather playfully. The camera was moved, Not-Bif pulling it out of Harley's grip. The view faced the floor as the back of it was fiddled with.
"Yes, its still going. Don't know how long its been going. Also, my name isn't Lars." But the last sentence was muttered sullenly. Now that the Joker no longer looked homicidal, or rather not as much as before, the lackey had relaxed and started trying to catch up on the situation. "It doesn't look damaged by ...what happened here. Wait, before you said ...what detonator?"
"Hmmmm? Oh, that. The detonator to the small bomb I slipped in your pocket." The Joker said without concern.
"What!" The camera was dropped and there was the sound of the now dubbed Not-Bif-Lars fumbling in his pocket.
"Does this mean the broadcast is ruined, Puddin'?" Harley's voice asked worriedly, ignoring the poor henchmen's small crisis. The Joker laughed.
"Of course not, sugar pie! We can still have our fun. What's even better is now I don't have to leave some shrouded clue for the Scaredy-crow! All play and no work makes Jack a very happy boy!" The camera was grabbed from the floor, and the screen was filled with a close up of the Joker.
"Hello, Gotham! This has been a very special broadcast sponsored by PoisonScarivy, a very special brand that will no doubt be visiting stores near you very shortly." The camera shifted as the Joker bent to pick something up. He came back into view holding Scarecrow's toxin container. The container Scarecrow had dropped and left behind. The container that still held a great deal of dangerous toxin. "Uncle Joker will of course have to change the brand name. I've been known to dabble in chemistry myself at times so don't worry. There will be no reenactments of this morning's events. I promise you something much better!" Bruce clenched his teeth as the Joker laughed.
"Oh, and also I would like to answer the second question that was put to me by Scarechum." Joker paused to even the camera out more, looking into it clearly. Bruce just knew the clown was looking directly at him. "Batman, I know your watching this. I did all of this, even betrayed my fellow 'super-criminals'," the Joker lamented with fake heartache, "for you. I did it for you. All I want to do is put a smile on your face!" Joker cried out with his ever present rictus smile, though he huffed slightly and dropped the toxin to wrap on arm around his chest. "Come on, Bats, your forcing me to get creative here!" Bruce stood up, frowning at the clown's face filling his TV, wincing slighting from his sore muscles. Batman would stop the Joker.
"And that concludes your morning entertainment. While this broadcast went decidedly off script, the best kind, don't you think? we can still finish off with a bang. Harley, my dear, matches?" Harley came into partial view, wrapping an arm around the Joker's shoulder, and holding forth the matches. The Joker once again pulled something out of his suit pocket and, lighting a match, set flame to it.
"Good night, Gotham!" Harley called. The view of the camera went wild as it was suddenly thrown, along with the bomb the Joker had lit, out the window. The last sound after breaking glass was the high wild laugh of the Joker. Then the camera, still flying through the air exploded into purple fire and turned black. The end of the broadcast.
Bruce didn't linger. He turned and headed toward the door. Alfred had sat quiet and stoic throughout the rest of the broadcast, not moving from his seat. But now he rose, looking at Bruce intently.
"Sir, what are you going to do?" Alfred asked after him. Bruce paused for only a second.
"I'm going downstairs, Alfred. Forward all calls and don't bother me for any reason. And don't bother to prepare dinner." And then he walked out. Alfred sighed and carried the cold half eaten omelet back to the kitchen. Apparently Bruce Wayne finished everything he started but Batman had better things to do.
Citizens all over Gotham continued to watch the television, the normal talk shows, soap operas, advertising and especially the energized news shows back on. The difference was there was now twice as many viewers. And the Joker, Harley on one shoulder, toxin grasped in hand and Not-Bif-Lars following uncertainly behind, running slash limping out of their hideout in the footsteps of the Scarecrow, the Joker knew it. More specifically he knew the Batman was now looking for him, thinking about him.
"Kiss me, kill me, Gotham! Can't you make up your mind?" Kissing Harley on the cheek and turning to throw a lit match back at the recently gasoline soaked house, he laughed. "I know I can't."
The End
A/N: Hope you liked it. Please, please, please! review. Thanks.