Night Court

Prologue:

Weeks have passed since the mess at Arkham. There had been several reports of the Batman appearing at a number of crime scenes only to evade any and all police efforts to apprehend him. Gangland violence has gone up; particular involving the False Face gang and the Himura Clan. Though the Falcone Family was known to provide back up for the Himura Clan occasionally, Frank Falcone was, for the most part, remaining neutral for all intents and purposes. As had come to be expected, there was no clear way to tie Cobblepot to anything, though it seemed everyone knew he was somehow involved; probably even the one who instigated the conflict to start with. James Gordon, Gotham City Police Commissioner, was willing to put a month's salary on betting that Penguin started this mess to come out looking like the guy who put an end to it. He suspected part of the idea was to show that law and order could be maintained his way without the likes of Batman; which of course would bring the City back to the way it was when the Golds, Falcones, and Maronis ran Gotham. Gordon wondered briefly if Joker was part of Penguin's plan, and quickly dismissed the idea; Joker was too much of a wild card.

There had not been so much as a giggle from the Clown Prince since his escape. Even that intern he kidnapped has vanished from the face the earth. James Gordon wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried sick about the Joker's apparent silence.

After a long day at the office, Harvey Dent found himself coming home, once again, to an empty house. The moment that news got out that Jack Napier had escaped custody, Dent had his wife moved back to Metropolis for her own safety. It hardly seemed fair; the ones who fought for justice were the ones who had to go into hiding and operate under the veil of obscurity and anonymity. Still, this was Gotham City we were talking about. That didn't change the fact that coming home to empty house was the most depressing thing in the world.

For her safety, he knew he shouldn't call her. That didn't change the fact he wanted to. He wanted to hear her voice as a sort of confirmation she was safe; but he also knew that very act could put her in harm's way. On impulse, he pulled his lucky coin from his vest pocket and flipped it in the air. It sang as it turned over and over in the dark of the house; first upwards, then suspended for a moment, and finally down to the palm of his hand. He clenched his fist around it, only to put it back into the pocket he pulled it from. It was not really a choice that was his to make; her safety depended on him keeping her at a distance. That was the simple fact; at least until the Joker was captured again. With the Bat compromised by Cobblepot's litigation, that could take awhile.

Harvey Dent made his way through the foyer towards the living room and flipped the light switch. Noting happened. The only illumination in the room was from the glass doors leading to the veranda outside, where the moon shined into the room casting shadows across the floor. In the pale light, Dent could make out a pair of wing-tipped shoes resting on a coffee table. Those shoes were connected to a pair of legs originating from his favorite easy chair. Slowly, the legs came off the table and a man started to lean forward as if to see who was entering the room. A gloved hand struck a match on the top of the table to tight a cigar clenched in perfectly white teeth behind bright red lips curled up into an almost comical smile. Those lips created an 'O' shape to form a ring of smoke; framing his clown-white face which made his green eyes and neatly quaffed green hair stand out in stark contrast.

"Well, helloooo Harvey," the Joker greeted him. "Welcome home."

Before he could do anything, Harvey Dent found himself blindsided as a club struck him on the back of the head. He fell to the floor, barely conscious as other men started trashing the room.

"How was your day in City Hall?" Joker taunted. "Did you get to close many cases? How many of the fine citizens of Gotham owe you for sitting in that nice cozy office, living in this wonderful house, and for endorsing some outlaws while incarcerating others, Harvey?" He dropped the cigar on the carpet and stomped on it with a disturbing amount of violence. "Did you spend any time in court today, Harv? You look exhausted!" The Joker hunkered down in front him, lifted his head up from under his chin so he could see his face all full of mock concern. "Here, let me fix you something to help you rest." The flower in Joker's lapel sprayed something into Harvey's face. Harvey could hear him laughing his maniacal taunt as he lost consciousness completely.

The lights in his den went out, enveloping Oswald Cobblepot in nearly complete darkness but for the pale moonlight filtering through the translucent drapes on the bay windows of the adjacent living room. Oswald didn't need to call out for a report; he already knew he'd get no response. Odds were good that all of his men in his estate and on the grounds were unconscious by now; well, almost all of them. With a heavy sigh, he stepped out of his den and into the living room. This was all getting so predictable...

"It's about time you got bold enough to come here," he called out into the darkness. In his hand he held an umbrella. "I'm right here, Batman. Come on out."

The Bat emerged, seemingly from nowhere, and was standing just out of reaching distance in front of him.

"I suppose I should be surprised, but I'm not." Cobblepot said. "Now you come to my home, tamper with my electricity, break in, and assault my staff. Tell me again how this makes you any different from the criminals you are so well known to bring down? Really; and some people wonder I started a litigation against the likes of you."

"This isn't about that, Penguin." The Bat replied darkly.

"I imagine not. Very well, then; what is it that you want now?"

"Where is he?"

The Penguin raised an eyebrow, framing his monocle. "Care to be more specific?" he asked. "I can think of a number of people you might be inquiring about." He took a quick step back and held the point of his umbrella to the Bat's chest; the tip began to crackle with a tazer charge.

The Batman made no move, said "We don't have to get violent, Oswald. You know very well who I want, and you know why."

"That's the closest to civil you've ever been to me, dear boy." Penguin commented. "If you mean the Crocodile, then I don't know where he's gotten himself to; nor do I care. If you mean the Clown, then your guess is as good as mine. If the truth is going to be told, I would rather he be captured quickly. That lunatic is nothing but trouble for everybody."

The Bat glared at Cobblepot, as if sizing him up, and then he turned and left. Apparently he decided that the little fat man was telling the truth.

"You can come out, now." Penguin called out again.

Deadshot slid the bookshelf aside and stepped into the dark living room. Disappointed, he disengaged his eye port targeting sensor and wrist firing gun. "I don't get it," he said. "I could've had him cold. You could've called it trespassing and self defense. It would've been perfectly plausible that you thought he was a burglar. Why is he walking out of here?"

Penguin grinned. "Because, dear boy," he replied patiently, "as driven to avenge his junior partner he may be, it's only a matter of time before the Clown rears his madness and becomes a priority for our winged friend. It's much better if he contends with the Joker than us, don't you think?"

"That's a good point." Deadshot agreed. "So how about I shadow the Bat, and clean up the mess those two make?"

Oswald considered the idea. It wasn't a bad one at all; with someone like the Joker, it never hurt to have a contingency. The wheels in his mind began to turn; it might even be a good idea to have a contingency for the contingency. With the Joker, one could never be too careful and thorough.

"That's a very good idea." He said. "Go, shadow the Bat."