THREE

The Joker awoke with a slight start. He hadn't even realized that he'd dozed off. That wouldn't do, how embarrassing to be pinched because you fell asleep, it was worse than being caught with your pants around your ankles.

He shook his head lightly and instantly regretted it when the room started to spin. "Jesus Christ." Joker bent his head down between his knees attempting to stop the nausea that was threatening to make its presence known. But, of course, the minute his head was down, the blood rushed to his wounded temple and his headache returned with a vengeance.

"Fuck this," he exclaimed. The invective only served to increase the throbbing. Putting his head back against the wall, he took deep, shuddering breaths. The more Joker thought about being hurt, the angrier he became. He really wanted to blow something up. Something big. Something preferably that belonged to the Gotham PD.

He still had a stash or two of explosives that the authorities hadn't found yet. It would just be a matter of getting to them. The police had thrown a net over the city, like that would stop him. How dense were these cops? He'd walked into MCU and walked out with their prized prisoner, leveling the building in the process. They were out of their league. There was only one adversary that was really worthy and oh, so, fun to play with.

Would the Bat come out to play? Joker wondered. He'd gone to ground after taking the heat for what Harvey had done. How pathetic was that? After all his sermonizing, the Bat had cheated. Joker had been fairly surprised by that, he had misjudged the man's level of commitment to his cause. The Bat had given up everything to his principle. He'd won the game fair and square then Gotham's self-appointed savior goes and does something selfless and stupid. He'd have to make sure that the Bat paid for that little slight.

Joker closed his eyes. He knew he was close to figuring it out. The Bat was smart but then again, so was he. He was hiding in plain sight, wearing a mask in the light of day only letting the Bat come out to play at night. He licked his lips. Rachel Dawes was the key. The incident at Harvey's party proved it. She was personal. She meant something to him. His tongue made another pass around his lips.

Events had proven that Harvey wasn't the Bat. He'd actually discarded the idea that it was Harvey long before the climax of their game was reached. The DA unraveled much too soon and too easily. Still, he'd come close to breaking the Bat's resolve, he knew. If he could have had another week, the outcome on the tower would have been much different.

Joker knew this would cost him. He had whipped the populace into a frenzy, pushed and pushed, waiting for the eventual collapse... he had been so close. But the Bat had put him on the defensive and now all those boiling emotions were threatening to cool to a simmer. People had time to think instead of just react. He needed to go back on the offensive as soon as possible, while passions were still raw.

Joker glanced up at the waning light through the window. "Time's a wastin'" he smiled within his smile and pushed himself up. He brushed at his clothes, straightening and smoothing what he could. His shirt stuck to his skin where blood had dried but at least the wound wasn't still oozing. He ran his hand across his hair attempting to tame some of the bloody, tangled mass then reached into his pocket and pulled out a tube of red lipstick. "It pays to look your best," he reminded himself, tracing the outline of scarred flesh around his mouth. "There," he announced and pulled his silver plated autos from their holsters under each arm. "Show time."

This was the third building in the grid that he had searched. It was on the outer most parameter of what he believed an injured man could reach on foot. The police, of course, had already searched the area but the Joker would have easily evaded their tactics. They assumed he had fled in a vehicle and was on the run. Bruce knew better.

The Joker only ran if it suited him to run. He didn't fear anyone or anything. And right now, he would be looking for a little pay back. They had hurt him. While any sane person would lay low, the Joker would do the opposite. He would come out guns blazing or... bombs exploding. He needed to get to him quickly before the clown had a chance to set anything in motion.

The crumbling old structure had once been a thriving shipping business. When jobs had been farmed out overseas the company had abandoned the building and let it rot. Bruce tuned his binoculars until he could see every detail of the decaying edifice. He concentrated on the top floors, knowing that the Joker would want to see what or who was coming at him. Scanning the broken and boarded windows, he stopped up short on the third floor when he caught movement.

"Damn it," he muttered. There were two punk kids inside drinking beers and being stupid. It was a recipe for disaster if the Joker was in there. And something in his gut told him that it was exactly where the clown was hiding.

Joker hummed a jaunty tune as he sauntered somewhat unsteadily down the corridor. The rest had done him some good after all. He didn't feel quite as shitty as he had earlier. It would make things a lot easier. He would head over to where he kept a hefty stash of explosives, steal himself a car, and have a little party. Nothing too flashy, just something to remind everyone that they weren't in control. That chaos could and would make itself known, well, whenever he damn well pleased.

Voices up ahead brought him out of his reverie, "I don't re..mem..ber inviting any guests over," he considered. A young man, not much more than a kid stumbled into the corridor from one of the offices. Joker sidestepped into a doorway, his finger brushed lightly over the trigger of his Glock. He leaned his head around the sill.

"Come on, Caleb. Let's see if we can score some weed."

Another lanky, teen-aged youth joined the first, "You got any cash? I'm flat busted until the next support check shows."

"Well, that's unfortunate... isn't it," Joker stepped from the doorway. His head was down and his eyes were deadly. "I mean what's a guy to do when the state doesn't pony up?"

The youth's cocky stance instantly went from brash threat to startled uncertainty. They looked one from the other, neither sure what to do. "Oh man, you're the Joker!"

"No way, that can't be him!" the other, Caleb, chimed in.

"Man, look at the scars, there's no way you can fake that!"

Joker rolled his eyes, "Such a clever boy." In truth, he wasn't that much older than these two low-life punks, not even ten years his guess, but he had never been that naïve... that stupid. It was just annoying. Any patience he might have had for their youthful ignorance was lost to the throbbing in his head. His fingers flexed around the grip of his Glock. "You wouldn't, by chance, have a vehicle out front would you?"

"No man, sorry. We hoofed it over here." They were still looking to each other for courage, the situation well out of their comfort zone of bullying tourists and assaulting old ladies for their purses. Caleb decided to try for tough, "So man, what are you doing here, Joker?"

Joker cocked his head and smiled unpleasantly, "Oh, you know, man," he mocked, "Right now, I'm dee..ciding which one of you to kill first... man."

Caleb laughed nervously.

"What's so funny, dead-boy?" Joker rumbled.

"Caleb man, I don't think he's kiddin' around," the kid's eyes had gone wide with fear.

The Joker slowly raised his Glock, straight-armed in front of him, "I never kid around." He pulled the hammer back and brushed the trigger.

A high pitched whistle split the air and something coiled around the Joker's hand like a vice. His arm was jerked to the left and the gun went off with a sharp crack. His arm was yanked back to the right with force, the weapon wretched from his grasp.

In less than an instant, Joker had pulled the Glock's twin from its dual holster and swung around, firing into the dim twilight of the hall. Plaster exploded as the hollow point load sprayed the corridor. Both youths dove to the floor, cringing and cowering.

Joker laughed in delight, "Bats! I was beginning to wonder if you care..duh." Joker swung around again. The Bat was sneaky, if there was a way for him to move around behind him, he would find it. "Better run on home, boys," he instructed the youths. "This is about to get... interesting."

Both teenagers jumped to their feet as one and tore down the corridor as if the devil himself was on their heels. Joker grinned wickedly and aimed his weapon at their fleeing backs. A loud noise in the room to his right made him pause. "Oh, all right Bats, no need to get impatient. I'm coming."

The Joker pressed himself against the wall and snuck a peek into the nearest office. The room was wide open and empty. He glanced upwards just in case the bat-brain tried to drop in on him from the ceiling. Nothing.

With over-exaggerated motion the Joker tip-toed to the next doorway. A skittering sound caught his attention and he casually strolled into the room. It was another large office space that held what was left of some old desks, chairs, and other miscellaneous junk.

A flash of shadow moved in the corner of his eye. The Joker swung his semi-auto in the general direction of the motion and held the trigger down. Hollow-point load sprayed the room. Boxes exploded on impact. Furniture splintered and glass shattered into cutting rain. The clown faced man started to giggle. He couldn't help it. There was just something about wanton destruction that tickled him to no end.

Joker cocked his head and squinted into the gloom, "Come out, come out, wherever you are.. unless, of course, you're dea..duh in which case you're excused. How about a moan? Death rattle?" Joker swung his weapon left and then right. But there was nothing. He hadn't imagined it. He had finely tuned senses, they had saved his ass more than once. He wasn't alone.

A sly little grin danced over his lips, "Come on Batsy I know you're in here. Hide and seek? I lovvee games. Want to know what my favorite is? Come on, just guess. Bet you can't!" The Joker swung around taking careful note of the large support pillars spaced out across the room.

"You remember mumbley-peg?" He fired a few rounds at the nearest support then stuck his head around its girth to again find nothing.

"I used to love that game as a kid-uh. Of course, I never really bought into the whole idea that you were supposed to MISS your opponent." Joker made an abrupt about-face and headed in the opposite direction, guns at ready. "And look at me now, I'm still sticking knives in people... and it's still just as fun."

He glanced upwards and scanned the exposed ceiling above. Most of the panels had long since been removed or destroyed. However, the struts were still in place. A clever bat could always find a place to hang from. "So what's your story, Bats? One ba..duh day?" The silence was his only response.

He paused, turning around in a circle. "I never got to finish my story. You know how I got these scarrrs on my face? Hmm? No?"

Joker sauntered over to a pillar and leaned against it. "My old man left my mom with two kids and no money. We lived poor, but it was ok. We had each other and we managed," he offered conversationally. "I was twelve the first time one of the local gangs tried to recruit me. But I stood strong, I refused to give in to them. Didn't make me very popular."

"One night, I was coming home and I saw this gang member shoot another kid in the face. Neither kid was more than fifteen. Unfortunately, when I saw them... they saw me. I tried to tell them I wouldn't squeal but they had to be sure. They had to make an example of me, you see." The Joker made a slicing motion across his mouth. "They wanted to make sure I'd keep my mouth shut... so they sliced it wi-duh open."

A darker shadow flitted high across the ceiling and the Joker followed its progress with an interested eye. "That was the catalyst. It opened my eyes to reality. What open..eduh your eyes? What finally let you see the truth, Batsy?"

He sighed lightly. This was getting tedious. "I know, no matter how much I might want our game to go on forever, it's just too good to last. Goo-duh things never do. It will be my honor to kill you, if that's what you really want."

Joker aimed high at a section of ceiling where most of the panels were still in place. "Maybe you think you'll win this little game of ours." The Joker's tone turned philosophical, "You may be right. It could happen, after all, we're well matched, you and I. You could kill me. But it wouldn't matter. Either way... I win."

"Let's play," he hissed and fired into the ceiling panels. Pieces of backer board and drywall rained down all around the clown. Joker ignored the potentially lethal barrage and continued firing upwards, his laughter echoed in the expansive space.

Something large and black tumbled towards him in a cloud of dust. He dove sideways in an attempt to keep from being flattened but was too slow. Something brushed by his shoulder jerking him off his feet. He crashed to the floor in a heap, his wounded side reopened, his unfocused head now spinning. He scrambled to his knees, one gun still firmly in hand the other laying just out of reach. His vision blurred but his arm was steady as he pointed his weapon one way then the other.

Using one of the concrete pillars to steady himself, he came to his feet. Bracing his back against it, he chortled, "I know I nailed you a couple of times. Your armor probably took most of the damage but it's gotta hurt like a bitch. Tell you what Batsy, if you want to play mano a mano, you take off the armor and I'll put down the gun. Whadya say? You know, I like to play with knives the best."

A soft shuffling sound caught the clown's attention and he wheeled to the left, firing three rounds. Then there was a click. Empty. Well, that was inconvenient. He didn't have a spare clip. His holstered the weapon and retrieved its twin. If he had counted right, he had six shots left. Then he would be totally screwed.

Bats had made it clear that he didn't play fair, taking the rap for what Harvey had done, was flat out cheating. What kind of superhero cheated? Of course, the fact that the do-gooders had, in the end, been brought down to his level just proved his point. But if the masses didn't know that then it hardly mattered. He didn't know rather to be ecstatic that he had been right all along or pissed off that they had taken his victory from him.

The Joker sighed. He wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. His side was throbbing. One well-placed hit and he would be down for the count. They'd already tried to lock him up in the loony bin once, he wasn't looking for a repeated attempt. "Come on, Bats, you came here to dance so let's just get down to it."

"I don't want to fight you, a voice called out." it's normal growling edge gone. "Put down your weapon."

Joker raised an eyebrow, "You don't want to fight?" He giggled. Right. "You just came for a chat or maybe you want to have a beer?" He turned around in a circle trying to ascertain where the voice had originated.

"As a matter of fact... I do want to talk to you. But I don't suppose you'll make this easy."

A sly little grin danced over his lips, "You want to talk? To little ole me? All right." Joker slipped the gun back into its holster. "So what do you want to talk about?" His eyes never stopped moving as he scanned the room. "I don't suppose we have much time. Those little pukes that you let get away will be spilling their beans by now." He turned one way then the other.

"You're right. This isn't the best place to talk. I propose we take this elsewhere." A shadow moved to his left and the Joker spun around to come face to face with the Bat.

Bruce stood no more than thirty feet away from his brother. He didn't know what he should feel but all he could think was that this was the Joker. The personification of evil and chaos. But that wasn't really true. There was a man beneath the war paint, just like there was a man beneath the mask. He finally realized it when he found out that his brother might still be alive. Now the Joker needed to find his own reason for bringing that man back to life.

"Well, well, well, looky what we have here. A big rat of a bat." The clown crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Bruce was instantly on the alert. "Put your hands down at your sides where I can see them," he ordered. Bruce took a step closer and raised his hands in front of himself. "It's no trick. I want to talk to you. My vehicle isn't too far from here. Lay down your weapons and we'll go now."

The Joker cocked his head like a bird. It was hard to tell with the make-up but Bruce got the impression he was confused by the change of attitude.

"Why Batsy, are you asking me to come away with you? That's so special," the Joker smirked.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Arms down to your sides." Bruce tensed.

"Or what?" the Joker's eyes held a dangerous glint.

"We don't have time for this macho bullshit. This place will be crawling with Gotham PD anytime now. Come with me. I'll take you somewhere where I can explain everything. You need to understand."

The Joker was still staring at him intently, his head pitched to the left. "Is that what I need to do?" he nodded. "Huh, how about a counter offer?" The Joker quick drew the loaded Glock with his right hand at the same time a knife slipping into his left.

Bruce managed to avoid the blade flying unerringly right at his face but dodging bullets was another matter entirely. He was hit twice in the upper chest as he dove to the left. Rolling away from the Joker, he activated the device on his arm and landed in a half crouch now facing his enemy, his brother.

The steel mesh sang through the air hitting the Joker in his mid-section. Bullseye. The net jerked the gun from his hand and it clattered to the floor as wire wove tightly around his body. The tendrils expanded, wrapping around and around, until the Joker tottered on his now tightly bound legs. He hopped slightly away from the advancing black figure before crashing over like a felled tree.

"What the fuck!?" He struggled against the restraints, writhing to and fro trying to find any slack. Bruce knew he wouldn't find any escape. He'd made damn sure that this would incapacitate on first contact. Walking slowly towards the Joker, he looked around him, paranoid that there might yet be something the criminal clown had waiting in the shadows.

The bound man looked up at him. His smiling face was full of fury. "You're not playing fair! You think this is over?" he screamed. "Nothing is over, not until one of us.. is dead. So take your best-shot, Bats. Do it. Do it!" He started to laugh, his voice rising and falling maniacally, "Make it hurt so good!"

Bruce cringed at the thought that this sick, twisted individual was his baby brother. This was the man he had spent the last three years scouring the world for, his family. Blood didn't lie.

What should he do?

The Joker was at his mercy at last. All the death and destruction he was responsible for, the pain and evil he had perpetrated... how could he just ignore that? Insane or not, his actions were nothing less than malevolent. The man was everything that he fought against, in his life and in his soul. He couldn't be allowed to do any more damage.

The Joker's mirth died down to a few giggles and stared back at him. "So what's it gonna be, Bats? Huh? Gonna drrink my blood? Come on, you're, you're, so close now! It's all been leading up to this moment. You're almost there. Go on.. Do it.. Murrder me."

And all the pieces fell into place. He would end it all right, just not in the way the Joker wanted. "You're right, this has to end.. now."

If it was at all possible the Joker's smile seemed to get even bigger and he shouted, "I win!"

"Not quite," Bruce responded with a grin of his own. The Joker's smile within a smile faltered. He looked confused by the change of tone. Bruce leaned over the Joker grabbing him by the purple lapels and clouted him squarely on the jaw, once then twice for good measure. His head whipped back and went slack.

"I've been waiting to meet you for a long time. For many reasons that you don't even know about.. yet. But see you're wrong about one thing. This isn't the end, it's only the beginning. And I plan on winning this game of yours.. for both our sakes."