Personally I prefer the Joker from Arkham Origins or any of Mark Hamill's incarnations. Whichever fits best for you.

The stained-glass ceiling-created with painful meticulousness in a bygone era-turned into a hundred meaningless shards as the Batman burst onto the scene with his usual melodramatic aplomb. He landed in the heart of the cathedral with an impressive amount of cape-billowing and debris. How deliciously typical.

"Let them go, Joker." That oh so familiar gravelvoice that tickled beautifully aallll the way down Joker's spine. Especially when the Bat said his name, just like that."It's me you want."

How true.

The Joker's manic grin was already pushing the limits of physiology, but his eyes glowed with savage pleasure, crow's feet appearing to divide and multiply to those lucky few within viewing distance.

"Whyyy Batsy! How nice of you to-eh heh heh heehh..." The Joker bared his teeth joyfully. "Drop in." He checked his watch so exaggeratedly that the snipers outside should be able to tell even through the distorting stained-glass windows. "And a full ten minutes ahead of schedule too, how..." he inhaled deeply through his nose and his eyebrows sunk as his voice lowered two registers, "thoughtful of you. Eh heh. Eh heh heh, hoo hoo hee, hahaHAAAA...ahem."

He cleared his throat to reign in the giggles. Batboob was here. That meant serious bizness. Tee hee heeeee-

Ahem.

"What do you think of my new rags?"

"Doesn't suit you," replied the Batpooper immediately. "Even for you, Joker, this is a new low."

"REEally?" The single word spanned three octaves as the Joker tugged his shiny new clerical collar contemplatively. "I rather like it. Thought it might be a new pha-haze in my illustrious career. You aren't the only one who looks good in black." He did a classy and fluid pirouette, gun twinkling. "Tell me, Battyman, dahling. Do you have anything to...confe-hess?" He gripped the edge of the elevated, intricately carved wooden podium and leaned over it dangerously far with a shark-like grin.

Batman clenched his fists and stood regally erect, looking very puffed up and manly. "Not to you."

Joker placed his hand to his brow in a mock swoon. "You wound me, Bats-oh, dear me-to the quick. And here I thought I knew you best. Brucie, baby." How he'd waited for this moment. A delicately raised brow. Maybe a small, teensy weensy twitter. Hardly worth mentioning.

Brucie seemed to stutter in his movements, and OHHH was it not the most satisfying (batisfying? no, too trite) display of vulnerability in the entire universe. The Joker could have grinned and laughed and guffawed and tittered until the day he DIED he was so abysmally happy. Except of course, his death could preferably come at any moment, so he restrained his glee with great unBat-like strength, which was his and his alone to command.

"Come now!" he mollified with a grand sweep of his arms that tore through the congregational sobbing surrounding the two of them. Hrm, the hostages were upstaging him. How annoying. He glared at a particularly loud-weeping woman to his lower left and she hiccupped into silence. Better.

"Come now, you can't have assumed I would never find out. I'm ME," he exclaimed, pointing to his heart with all five fingers. "I'm your best friend, Pooh Bat!"

The Batman looked positively enraged and the Joker mentally high fived himself.

"You know nothing about me," came the predictable growl.

The Joker leered. "Yes, well. That's what you thought two minutes ago, ah ha ha HAHAHAAaahh!" He blew the Bat a kiss.

The Bat showed all of his teeth and the Joker felt his victory was nigh.

"Let these people GO!" cried the Moses of Gotham boringly. "We'll deal with this, man to..." he grimaced. "Clown."

The Joker scowled. "How rude. Mano e mano, or no deal." He pulled the priest close, gun pressed to the quaking worm's head, and couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled out of him. Whatever. His laughter was positively endearing.

True to form, the Bat quailed. Alright, fine. He paused for a second. Tomayto, tomahto. Bats was the devil and he lived in the details. The Joker would take what was obviously his.

"Who did you tell..."

The Joker shoved the priest off the balcony, ignoring the shrieking crash in his righteous outrage as he drew himself up, anger and rage barely contained by his pulpit.

"We-hell, excuse me for living. Who would I tell? If anyone else knew, where would my edge go, eh? Eh? Think, muffin!"

The Batman remained like a stupid statue.

"I mean, what are friends for, am I right?"

Of course a feeble minded minion chose that moment to enter the auditorium, interrupting their lovely moment.

"Boss! It's the Bat!"

Gunfire sprayed through the church in Batman's general direction. Joker's playmate effortlessly ninja-rolled out of the way and pulled a terrified hostage with him just as the Joker snarled and flung himself off the podium, landing right on the minion's chest. He gripped the quavering mobster's pleather lapels and shook him so hard his clown mask fell off. The man gibbered and drooled in terror.

"Do you recall me telling you to attack my Batsy? DO YOU?"

"N-n-n-no, b-b-b-b-but-b-b-"

"In case you've forgotten how this works, monkey, I'm the psychopath. You're the sycophant. GOT IT?" he roared. He gave the man one last shake for good measure and felt him go limp as his skull cracked open against the floor. "Whoopsie," he said jovially. "Clumsy me. I'm all elbows today. Who knows? I may even accidentally drop a bullet," his voice grew louder as got to his feet, "into the skull of the next baboon," he brushed dirt off his front, "who even looks at Batman without my expre-hess permission." He whirled around. "UNDERSTAND?!"

A chorus of "yes, boss" echoed throughout the room and Joker hummed in satisfaction.

"Now then, where were we?"

"You were about to let these innocent people go. Then you were going to get your ribs broken. Again."

The Joker yawned and patted his mouth. "Droll, Batman. Honestly, where's the inspiration? The creative fire?"

The last word was paired with a cackle and a Molotov cocktail he'd had hidden in his clothes. It crashed into the pew Batman had occupied only seconds before and the entire section burst into orange flames.

"Ahahahaha! Mummy always told me not to play with matches! For the life of me, I still can't figure out why. It never-what the blazes are you doing?"

But it was too late. Batman couldn't hear him because he had just grappled out of the hole in the ceiling. Batsy was gone. With 17 hostages still in danger. The Joker frowned. This was entirely unprecedented.

"Batsy?" he called out. "Was it something I said?"

Nothing. No response. No winged-Ratman swooping in from some dark corner, no smoke bombs. No anything. As if anything in this festering cesspool of a city could be more important than the Joker.

He frowned deeper, entirely put out. "Let them go," he said to his men sullenly, the fun sucked out of the entire situation.

"But boss, what about the ransom, the cops-"

The Joker swirled around with a vicious snarl. "I won't-say it-again. If they die, trust me, so will you."

That prompted explosive action and the hostages were hastily herded out the front. The Joker heard gunfire and the unmistakable sound of his guys being captured but he didn't care. He scaled the pulpit as the fire spread and rested his elbows on the railing, chin in his palms. He sighed morosely and huffed green hair out of his eyes, ignoring the way the flames licked up the sides of the balcony.

What had gone wrong? Batman had never just left like that before. Something was different. This was just terri-hrrckk!

He was torn from his thoughts by a hand gripping the back of his collar and hoisting him into the air. He floundered and choked, flailing his limbs just as the balcony struts burned through and the whole thing collapsed with a crash into the inferno below. The Joker shrieked with laughter as he was pulled backwards through the ceiling and up, up, up onto the roof of the skyrise next door.

He fell onto all fours and coughed, turning his head to see Batman crouched with an elbow on his knee, peering down at the burning mess Joker had made. The flames and flashing police lights reflected brilliantly off his lower-face and mask. Joker marveled-not for the first time-how truly stunning he was in that getup.

But forget about that, he had bigger babies to fry at the moment.

"You came back! To save lil ol' me. Why Brucie, I didn't know you cared."

Batman scowled beautifully. "Stop saying that."

"Brucie? But it's your name."

"Not that."

"Then what-ohhhh." He nodded and tapped the side of his schnozz knowingly. "That you care about me. Why? Hit a little too close to home, does it?"

"Of course not. You're so wrong it makes me sick."

"Oh hohoho, you're not fooling me. Why, I've got you figured from A to Z!" He singsonged and patted Batman's arm with a giggle.

"I just saved you. Don't make me kill you."

"Don't be silly, it doesn't suit you," said the Joker, removing his hand anyway just in case. "You would never kill me. We both know that."

"Not for lack of wanting to, you slimy little piece of-"

"Shhh, shshsh shhh..."

The Joker silenced him with a finger to the other man's lips. A strange thrill ran through him when the Bat unexpectedly allowed the motion without protest, just watched him silently with those dark blue eyes of his. Waiting. Joker valiantly ignored the shiver and cocked his head to the side, eyes going vacant as he listened.

There. That noise again.

"Don't move," he whispered.

A question formed in Batman's eyes, but he obeyed. Another thrill. Joker waited four more seconds and then flung himself over the Bat's shoulder with a dramatic, "hiyaa!" He karate chopped the SWAT member's head with one hand and slit his throat with the other, hopping around with exaggerated ninja moves and giggling as the man gurgled and collapsed, silently gushing blood.

Then the Joker skipped back across the roof, giddy from the high that always came from the gushers. He cartwheeled up to Batman and tweaked his nose.

"Boop!"

"You should have let me handle him," Batbore complained.

"I was just returning the fa-havor, mi amor! Now we're even and I can kill you with a clear conscience!"

The Joker swung his shiv, aiming too high but still managing a good slice to the cheek before Batman smacked his arm ferociously with a gauntlet, sending the knife flying over the edge of the building. The Joker pouted and prodded his broken arm.

"Meanie."

He stuck out his tongue and yelped as Batman punched it. The pain was well worth the smirk that flashed for an instant across Bat's face. Joker spat a glob of blood and grinned, throwing his good arm around Batman's shoulders and tightening his grip when he wasn't thrown off.

"Where to now, Butch baby?"

"I'm going home and you're going-"

"What a coinkydink, I was just heading to Wayne Manor myself. Great minds and all that ehehehooo."

"You are infuriating."

"And you love to be furious. Probably why we're such good friends."

Batman opened his mouth to reply and the Joker silenced him by swiping a finger through the blood oozing down his cheek. He popped it into his mouth on a whim.

"Mmm," he moaned before he could stop himself. "Bat blood..."

Batman seemed frozen in place, mouth hanging open. Frozen in shock? Horror? Arousal? Ha. No matter. The Joker took advantage and swiped more blood as it dripped off Batman's chin. He smeared his mouth with it, rubbed it into his scars, pressed his lips together as if putting on lipstick and made smacking sounds.

"You know I love getting all dolled up for you, Mister Wayne."

Batman just stared wordlessly at his mouth. Geez. Was his brain broken?

"Hellooo." The Joker snapped his fingers in the other man's face impatiently. "Any bats in the belfry?"

Batman started as he came back to himself and took three shaky steps backwards.

"You're crazy," he rasped.

The Joker tilted his head in concern. "Are you feeling alright? You seem...frazzled. It wouldn't even be fun to kill you like this."

He licked his lips and hummed as he tasted the bat blood again, forcing himself not to lick it all away. Had to make a delicacy like this last. It was hard to come by, after all.

"Please, sir, I'd like some more," he said in his best Oliver Twist impression.

"More...?"

"Bat blood."

Batman nodded.

NODDED.

And then looked absolutely horrified. More than the Joker had ever seen before. It was more disconcerting than satisfying, but he said yes, so...

The Joker walked up to him and licked his face, a broad stripe all the way up the side. Then he cackled as Batman gasped and shoved him off the building. He positively how-how-howled with laughter for a good two stories until his head hit the wall and he passed out mid bray.

###

The Joker awoke, which-as always-he found mildly surprising.

"You're awake," came a gravelly voice somewhere to his left.

"Yes thank you, captain," he replied with a hiss, gripping his aching head and hissing louder when he remembered his arm was broken.

"Don't try to move just yet."

"Sure thing," he said breezily, sitting up and attempting to extricate himself from the luxurious black bed covers. "Your bed is worse than a straight jacket." He wrestled with them a bit more before rolling off the edge with a thump. He groaned and flung himself onto his back, looking up into Batman's face as the man leaned over in his chair.

Actually looked into his face. Both halves.

"My, but aren't you a handsome one."

Bruce's face contorted as if he couldn't pick an emotion and settled on a blank stare. "If you already know who I am then you already know what I look like."

"Yes, yes, yesyesyes. But..." The Joker waved Batsy's words away with a de-gloved hand, flapping it until he noticed with alarm that his nails were trimmed and his cuticles cleaned.

"Did you wash my hands?"

Bruce looked decidedly embarrassed, prompting the Joker to take stock of his body for the first time. Not only were his wounds washed and dressed, the rest of him was too. Including...

"Where are my Batman boxer briefs, you lech? Those were my favorite."

"About that. Batman boxers? Really?"

"I'd be horrified that you touched my willy, but I suppose you're right. Those boxers were pretty snug." He wiggled his eyebrows. "You could say I'm accustomed to you touching me in a bad place, you monster."

Bruce seemed speechless.

"Don't worry. The vile wretches of the populace may cry and wail for Bruce, but he's a sex symbol so that's to be expected. Batman, however? These animals have no limit! So naturally I bought every single pair in the city and then blew up the factories that produced them. I have an entire warehouse full of them now, aHAhahahee-"

"That was you?"

"Who else? I also killed the designers, the CEO, the next in line for the throne and their families."

The Joker grinned with narrowed eyes and waited expectantly for the crunching stomp to the head sure to come after that juicy tidbit, but oddly enough Bruce looked pensive and... Was that coy?

"I'm a sex symbol?"

Joker rolled his eyes and burst out laughing simultaneously, which had a very unnerving effect.

"Don't tell me you don't notice the masses slobbering at your feet!"

"Well, I have a lot of gold diggers..."

"And even more pants diggers, you oblivious nincompoop."

Bruce looked away, tips of his ears dusted pink. "Oh."

"Anyhoo," said the Joker, finally getting to his feet. "As scintitillating as this conversation has been, I really must be off. Wars to start, babies to skin. You understand. Hidey ho!"

He made a mad dash for the window, actually managing to unlatch it and get a good whiff of freedom before Batman grabbed his collar, yanked him back inside and threw him onto the bed.

"Why, Bruce. We haven't even had dinner."

"Enough!" roared the Batman and the Joker grinned. There he was. "Enough of your games. You have a skull fracture, two breaks in your arm and four broken ribs, three cracked. You're lucky you didn't get a punctured lung."

"Oh for the love of-flesh wounds!" he shouted back, feeling annoyed for the first time. "Really, Bats, broken ribs? Think of it as a deep tissue massage. I do."

"You almost got yourself killed twice last night."

"Actually, it was once. The second time you threw me off a building."

"You licked me!"

"And it's deductive powers like that that strikes fear into the heart of Gotham!" He clapped for good measure.

Batman growled and loomed at the foot of the bed. "Why did you do it?"

The Joker inspected his nails languidly. "Do what?"

"Try to kill yourself in the church."

That pulled Joker up short. "Excu-huse you! I did nothing of the sort! I was pausing for a moment's reflection! Try it sometime."

"In a burning building?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I do that sort of thing."

"You looked like a kicked puppy!"

"How dare-you were watching?"

Bats just stared at him grimly.

"What the hell were you doing anyway? Why did you leave?" The Joker sounded pathetic even to his own ears and he gripped his broken arm tight enough to see stars. Better.

"Just an idea."

"Care to share with the class?"

"If you held those people hostage to lure me out, you might let them go if I disappeared. Used to be you would kill them one by one until I played along, but something's changed."

Now it was the Joker's turn to be speechless. For a moment, anyway.

"Yes, well. Guess I've started going soft in my old age. Thank you for pointing it out, toots. I will rectify this error pah-ronto."

Batman's eyes narrowed dangerously and Joker couldn't contain a nervous titter.

"No. You won't."

"HAAAhahaha! And just what is it that you plan to do, hmm? You-hoo-hoo won't kill me, Arkham can't hold me. Looks like you're fah-resh outa options, Batbrain." He started working himself into a good long chortle, exactly the kind that he knew grated worst on Bat's pointy little ears.

"I can hold you."

Joker broke off into a coughing fit. "You WHAT?!"

"I've already kept you unconscious for three days while I constructed a holding cell in the Batcave. I did this by implanting a microchip that will stimulate the sleep centers of your brain when I press," he held up a small device, "this button."

The Joker stared at him in horror. "Batsy... You wouldn't..."

"I already did."

Batman pressed the button and Joker's world went black.

###

This time there was no surprise when he awoke, mild or otherwise. Just a hot, giddy fury. Gone was the ridiculously luxurious bed and the excessively intricate wooden paneling. He was sprawled atop a thick foam pad sans any kind of bedding, luxurious or otherwise. And he was in a cave, in a cage.

A fucking cage.

"GrrrrhhHH! BATMAAN!" he bellowed, shaking the bars and getting even angrier when nothing rattled. It was sturdily built.

"What."

The Joker kept his grip on the bars and peered between them to see Bats sitting in front of an impressive computer station. He was leaning back casually, fingers laced over his abdomen, with a full blown smirk covering his face.

Joker's entire body shook, face twisting with rage. "I'll kill you!"

"You're welcome to try." The reply was paired with a shrug.

"Then I'll kill myself," he hissed.

"Again, you're welcome to try. I've removed anything that could be used as a weapon, including towards yourself."

Joker laughed darkly. "Obviously you've never seen a man rrrip out his own tha-roat before."

Bruce's smirk disappeared. "No, I can't say that I have."

"It's truly amazing what a person can accomplish when given the right push." Joker smiled dreamily as his eyes glazed over in memory. "What a day that was! I couldn't have been prouder." His hands inched towards his own throat.

Batman scowled and pressed a button. The Joker collapsed where he stood.

###

The days, weeks, months passed in a hazy blur. The Joker was never allowed to be conscious by himself. Batman kept him out cold, fed and watered intravenously and only allowed to awaken when he was there with him in the Batcave.

The Joker didn't joke anymore.

He didn't laugh. He didn't smile. He didn't speak. He'd lost at least twenty pounds and was beginning to look extremely malnourished. He moved lethargically when he moved at all, stared vacantly at nothing, was completely unresponsive when Batman tried to engage him in conversation.

Then, one day, Batman said:

"Knock knock."

The Joker slowly, oh so slowly, turned his head, electric green eyes focused for the first time in ages.

"Who's there." His voice was guttural from disuse.

Batman's eyes seemed to glow almost feverishly and he hastily scrambled closer to the cage, stopping with a jolt four feet away. "Uhh..." Apparently he hadn't thought this through. "Cargo."

"Cargo who."

"Car go beep beep."

The Joker stared. Batman stared back.

"Ha," Joker deadpanned and turned away.

Batman cursed to himself and said, "I have to go. I'll be back later." He watched him intently for a response.

The Joker laid down and closed his eyes.

###

"Joker, get up."

He awoke with a start to see Batman dressed as Bruce Wayne opening the cage door. Joker stood wordlessly.

"Get out."

He stepped out of the cage and stopped, waiting for instruction.

"No, I mean get out. I removed the implant."

The Joker's nose wrinkled in confusion and he felt the back of his head with shaky fingers. Sure enough, there was the bald patch, the tell-tale jagged line sewn into overheated flesh. It was a fresh wound.

"Why?" he croaked.

Batman exhaled harshly through his nose and looked away. "I can't stand to see you like this. It's worse than death for you, I realize that now, what a monster I've been. I'm sorry."

The Joker stared.

"Aren't you going to say anything? Have I... Have I broken you?" Batman's voice trailed off hoarsely, his expression pleading. "I... Damn it, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I've missed you."

"Batsy, did you dip into my fine collection of recreational herbs and spa-hices while I've been away?" Joker asked with minimal inflection and a small, crooked grin. Easier to deflect than even begin to process the other man's words.

Then-insanely-Batman gave a harsh bark of laughter and pulled him into a bearish Bat-hug. Joker was at a total loss. All he could think to do was hug him back, burying his face in the hollow where neck met shoulder. Then he pushed him away with as much force as he could muster, which was frighteningly little.

In any event, Batman allowed it and stepped back with a wounded expression. The nerve of the man.

"You-you-you!" Joker spluttered. He was furious, he was enraged, he was relieved. He laughed. He doubled over, split his sides and laughed and laughed and laughed until he eventually passed out from exhaustion.

###

The Joker awoke and wished he hadn't.

He was back in the fancy bed, all cleaned up and spanking fresh. Alone. Who'd have imagined what a wonderfully, marvelously, fanatically, deliciously novel thing - it - is to wake up alone. Not just alone, but alone and with an enormous tray of food placed a foot away from one's head.

He wolfed down eggs, toast, bacon, waffles, fruit, juice and was just sipping the piping hot coffee and patting his bloated belly with a happy sigh when He entered the room.

The Joker instantly flung himself off the bed, muscles sluggish, scrabbling at the window latch and was just about to leap out of it-damn the broken limbs-when a voice said:

"You can use the front door."

He paused and looked back over his shoulder. Bruce stood there, looking extra posh in a slick black monkey suit. Looking incredibly guilty. Oh it was an ugly, ugly look on him. Guilt. Pity. Joker bared his teeth and growled, but slowly edged back into the room. He didn't trust his physical condition. If he became injured now, who knew how long it would take to bounce back.

Besides, wasn't there an old wives tale about waiting thirty minutes after you eat before jumping to your death? He was a bit fuzzy on the details, but was positive it was thirty minutes.

"What do you want," he asked bluntly.

"To apologize. And to say that I hope you'll forgive me.

A wild hyena laugh. Even Bruce flinched at its humorlessness.

"Forgive? Fuh-forgive? Ooh, damn you! Don't you realize? You've ruined everything. Every! Thinngg-ah!"

"I know," said Bruce, looking down at his patent leather puppy-kickers.

"No. You don't know." The Joker leaped onto him, knocking him down, straddling his waist. "You - don't - KNOW." Each word was emphasized by alternating punches right to the baby-kisser. The fool just laid there and took it. The Joker grimaced. It wasn't satisfying at all.

"But wait!" He paused, elbow pulled back, as a thought came to him. "If you really don't know..." He glanced down at Bruce's bleeding, panting face. It wasn't the right face, but those eyes, those dark blue eyes were still the same. Watching. Waiting. "Maybe... Maybe it's not ruined." He tweaked the man's nose experimentally. "I've still got Batbunny's carrot, don't I."

The Joker shrieked with delighted laughter as Batman flipped them over with an angry growl, grabbing his wrists and slamming them down above his head, pinning him into place.

"That's right!" he grinned maniacally. "Do it! Hit me, right across the chops!" He raised and exposed his jaw. "Just like the good old days, Batty-my-man! You said yourself you've missed it!"

"Don't push me," Batman growled.

"Oh, why, I wouldn't dreeaam of it. I'm sure I don't even know what you mean. It's not as if-mmph!" Joker struggled wildly, going cross-eyed as he tried to look at the Bat's mouth covering his own.

Batman tore his mouth away, eyes nearly black with resolve. "That shut you up."

"Fwhut-wh-wha-Batman." He gaped. "What the devil do you think you're-mmph!"

"Don't pretend to be surprised," Batman said against his lips.

"But I am surprised! What the hell has gotten into-mmph!"

"The constant flirting. Then the silent treatment. You already know what you do to me, but you just have to push my buttons, don't you. Just have to fan the flame."

"What flame? All that stuff, I was just joking! God, you are such a stiff-mmph!"

"You know," grumbled Bruce, dipping his head down to nuzzle behind Joker's ear. "I had to temporarily remove part of your skull to take out the microchip. You were just so exposed," he nipped at the earlobe, "that I couldn't help myself and I..."

Bruce's voice lowered to a hoarse whisper as he breathed into his ear: "I kissed your brain."

Oh my.

Okay then. That officially did it.

The Joker now had a boner the size of Wayne Tower.

"Oh, Batsy," he moaned. "I never pegged you for the romantic type." This time he initiated the kiss. "Mmm, bat blood."