"ALFRED," Bruce screamed, throwing one of his useless, porcelain masks against the wall and watching it shatter onto the carpet. "He's doing it again!"

"Master Wayne," the butler calmly chided, "What did you expect? You've been allowing the wretch to run free in the streets of Gotham when what he really needs is to be less-than-kindly escorted back to Akrham Asylum."

Throughout the tiny speech, Alfred's tone reminded smooth and controlling, an ability Bruce had never mastered. No matter how many times his father had scolded him, he'd never been able to 'watch his temper' as his parents suggested. Even if he'd been able to hold himself together in public places for fear of severe punishment, the young master of Wayne manor had never been able to keep it all in for long. Once he got home, he screamed like a banshee and broke anything and everything he could get his hands on. His father didn't mind that much, though. At least he'd managed to teach Bruce to have his outbursts in private. The young boy was usually quite good at dealing with the public, and Thomas had always been very proud of that.

Now, his father was dead. He was alone with Alfred in his own home. there was nothing stopping him from realizing all his anger in one long, overpowering fit of temper.

"Well?" Alfred questioned the young billionaire boldly, jerking him from his train of thought. "Are you going to go stop him, sir? He is on the roof, after all."

Bruce looked almost started. "Why, yes. Yes, of course," he announced, shaking himself from his stupor just in time to grab a proper mask and slip it over his handsome, well-defined features. "Of course."

By the time he made it to the roof, he was fully in costume and ready to stop the villain - or so he thought as he ascended the stairs. "What the hell are you doing?" he questioned, stepping less-than-cautiously close to the former asylum inmate.

"Who, me?" the Joker laughed, giving his green hair a little toss as his head was thrown back to emphasize the cold, bone-chilling cackle. "Staring into the future, my dear boy. And you?"

The hero's brow furrowed as he, too, stepped close to the edge of the building. A fall from that height would have been fatal, without exception. "I don't understand," Bruce said softly, watching the cars fly by in the darkness, their lights streaming and making lines along the street like a painting. "You're not going to jump, are you?" He'd completely forgotten his purpose.

"Sadly for you," the Joker began, slowly turning on his heel, "I'm afraid not. I have other plans."

With a nod, and a swipe of his hand, he gestured behind the hero towards the door leading to the roof. Crouched down in the shadows was none other than the love of his life, Rachel Dawes. "No," he breathed. "You said nothing about a hostage situation!"

"Oh, so you do watch TV! I was beginning to wonder what you did in your free time. How'd you get here so fast, anyway? I was considering stripping her naked to make it even more horrifying for you."

Bruce looked confused, almost as if he might crack a smile and laugh a little. "I'm... I'm not scared of vaginas..."

The Joker looked almost offended at the joke, knowing full well that it meant the batman wasn't taking him seriously. "What's wrong with you?" he spat, grabbing the hero by the throat with a pair of white, bony hands. "Is this a game to you, or something? Do you enjoy screwing with other people's lives?"

"Isn't it a game to you? Isn't that the whole point? I'm supposed to play along or you kill my supposed lover?" The bat had a point.

"Oh, fuck you," the Joker spat, squeezing his throat a little tighter. The constriction coughed Bruce to choke for air, but the whole situation was just so obscene that he couldn't help but laugh. The Joker looked horrified. "Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"You-" Bruce coughed. "You think something's-" Cough, cough. "-wrong with me because I-" Cough. "-don't think vaginas are scary?"

The Joker's lip twitched as his eyes fell to the girl who was shaking and sobbing over by the heavy metal door. She looked awfully pathetic. The more Jack thought about it, though, the more he realized that Bruce probably had a point. "No... No, I guess not..." At last, the smile. It pulled at his lips and drew tears to his eyes before he even began to laugh. When he did, he actually let go of the batman to put his hands on his knees, doubled over and nearly choking from laughing so hard.

"Wait, wait... No... No, seriously... Seriously, now." The smile was still dangerously close to parting his lips into a chuckle once more, but the villain did his best to hold it back. "Seriously. This is getting ridiculous. You're as crazy as I am. So turn yourself in, or I will drop her from this building."

Bruce couldn't help himself. "Well you'd better put some pants on her before you drop her down 60 stories in that skirt. You wouldn't want a pedestrian to get a view or her vagina."

The two burst out laughing, and unconsciously, the villain took a step close to Bruce, his hand on his chest. "Stop saying that! You're making it ridiculously difficult to threaten you."

Bruce gasped, pulling back and staring.

"What?" the Joker gaped. "Whaaat? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't tell me you're scared of vaginas... Gotham's most dangerous villain? I don't believe it."

"Oh, believe it. Have you seen one lately? I mean really. Can you believe some guys put their dicks in that?"

Bruce waited a minute, his gaze awkwardly dropping to the bulge in Jack's pants. "You mean... you don't?"

Jack caught his gaze, his hand still gently resting on the hero's chest. "Actually, no. I've never had sex with a girl."

The bat's eyes went wide as his feet carried him a step back - without his permission. It had been unintentional, but judging by the way the Joker's hand dropped and fell away from him, he could tell he'd offended his adversary. "Do... You mean..."

"Oh, what, Batty can't believe I'd stick my penis in somebody's-"

Bruce cut him off, stepping frightening close, their torsos nearing touching as he grabbed at the collar of the Joker's coat. "Hey, no. No, it's not that. I just... You're... You're sort of scary. You just seem like you'd have a hoard of girls hanging on your every cackle, prank, and joke, no matter where you go. You're scary. Girls like that."

The Joker grabbed the bat, dragging him closer, pressing their bodies together. "How about you, Batty? Do you like that?"