Chapter Two: You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.

Dick ground his teeth together as his motorcycle weaved its way along the highway. Who exactly did Bruce think he was, ordering him around like that?

Well, that was a stupid question. Dick knew exactly who Bruce thought he was: the God-Damned Batman. And, in his official capacity as the God Damned Batman, it was well within his jurisdiction to order all and sundry around without considering the effect it could have on them, act like a total asshole, and get away with wearing pointy ears without anyone passing comment.

And here he was, driving all the way back to Gotham, just because Batman said so.

No wait, that wasn't right. He was also going back because just a few hours ago Superman had killed the legally elected President of the United States, and Dick figured if anyone had any answers at all, it would be Bruce.

He just wished there had been some way to get those answers without having to leave Jump. Who knew when he was coming back...

No. Don't think like that. You're going to go, do whatever little chore Bruce wants, pump him for information, then go home and ask Star to marry you. That's all. Besides, it might be a good opportunity to actually get to know your replacement...

--

Starfire sat in the main room, lost in thought. Although she had been sorry to see Richard go, she was hopeful that he would return quickly, perhaps with news of reconciliation with his father. Starfire was an eternal optimist.

Her thoughts at the moment were on the events of earlier today. Had this occurred on Tameran, the issue would have been far clearer.

Regicide was not unknown on Tameran, although there had not been a case since the death of Strortarr the Incompetent some seven hundred years ago. However, in that, as all other cases of Tameranean regicide, it had been in a formal duel for the crown, with the challenger (in that case, Salammand'r I, founder of the And'r dynasty) endorsed by the High Council.

Lex had not been a king, and Superman had not had a mandate from any kind of council, senate, or court, but, to a Tameranean, the intent was clear. Superman had grabbed power.

Of course, that was not how it worked on Earth. Starfire recalled how Richard, back when he had been Robin, had explained the concept of democracy to her. She had been fascinated, and somewhat enamoured, by the idea, until it had become clear that while she could not vote, there was no legal way to stop Slade from voting. To her, the flaw had been transparent.

Idly, she wondered what life under Superman's rule would be like. Surely he would be a better leader than Lex.

--

The motorcycle screeched up the driveway, sliding to a halt on the gravel. Activating the autonomous security systems, he dismounted and removed his helmet, shaking his hair out as he did so. As always, Alfred was there to greet him.

To anyone who did not know the butler, he would have seemed as unemotional as a towel rack. However, Dick could instantly tell something was off.

"Master Dick," he said, "it is good to see you again." Dick's suspicions were confirmed by the tone in Alfred's voice.

"You too, Al. Any idea what the old man wants?"

"I am sure he would rather tell you himself. He instructed me to ask you to change as soon as you arrived. He would rather not keep anyone waiting."

Dick raised an eyebrow at that. The sentence had certainly warranted one.

--

Nightwing descended the steps of the Batcave to find it fuller than it had ever been. The new Robin (Tim, he mentally reminded himself) nodded at him, and that was the politest greeting he got. The rest of the people, who Nightwing recognised as the Lords and Batgirl, were engrossed in the quietest shouting match any of them had ever seen.

"It's my city, I say how we're running this," Batman spat through gritted teeth.

"We're here as the Justice Lords, and I lead the Lords," Superman riposted, his voice low and even.

"Nightwing, Robin and Batgirl aren't members."

Superman raised an eyebrow. "We could always induct them."

Nightwing wasn't sure he was too keen on that, and from the looks he was getting from Tim and Barbara, they didn't seem thrilled either.

"Not happening." Batman's voice clearly stated: You Are Not Going To Change My Mind. Ever.

Superman scowled, but his voice remained steady. "We are doing this my way."

Nightwing interjected. "What exactly are we doing?"

Batman was about to speak, but Hawkgirl got there first.

"We're cleaning up America, starting with Gotham. The old ways aren't working, so we're trying some new ones."

Nightwing didn't respond, but he couldn't deny the chill that ran up his spine at her words.

--

The Joker sat in his warehouse lair, reclining in a huge leather armchair, dressed not in his suit but in a purple velvet smoking jacket, flicking blithely through a photo album.

On the front, the words "Our Wedding" had been crossed out and replaced with "Greatest Gags".

Every now and again, he would happen upon a picture that would cause his grin to nearly split his face in two.

A clown and a gymnast walk into a bar...well, the possibilities from there were endless...

Slaughter all the patrons (classics are classics for a reason);

Lace the drinks with arsenic (make sure you've got a camera for when they find out!);

Pump the place full of SmileX (good for tough crowds);

Burn the establishment to the ground (for those times when you need something incandescent);

Pie the barman (hey, who says you have to be original all the time?);

As above, but fill the pie with broken glass (a shocking twist ending- always gets a chuckle from the intellectuals);

Dynamite (guaranteed to bring down the house);

Order two lemonades and a packet of peanuts (keep 'em guessing, that was the Joker way!)

His reminiscences were interrupted by a knocking on the door. He scowled, and shouted down the hallway.

"Haarrley! There's someone at the door!"

Harley Quinn positively skipped through the doorway, wearing a pink pinafore over her costume. She had been indulging in a little spring cleaning. With a bright smile to her beloved, she picked up her bazooka (her pride and joy) and left for the door.

After a few seconds, there was an explosion, and the Joker nodded to himself. He half wished that he had thought to invite whoever it was in. He had had such fun with those Jehovah's Witnesses, and he was sure that they had found their visit informative. They had certainly learned more about human anatomy.

Suddenly his ceiling exploded, and the Justice Lords descended.

Joker's eyebrows shot up, and he turned to see Nightwing, Batgirl, and Robin walking through the door Harley had left by.

"Bats!" Joker barked, and he smiled broadly. "You brought company!" At the stony silence that followed his words, he pouted. "What, are the rest of you as talkative as Tall, Dark, and Brooding?" He gave a theatrical sigh, but his face suddenly brightened. "Wait, I know just the thing to loosen those tongues." With that, he dove for his pocket, his bone white fingers clasped around a SmileX grenade...

All of a sudden Superman's hand was crushing his throat.

Joker blinked. "Why...Big Blue...never knew you had it in you."

Superman made no move to respond, except with a sudden tightening of his grip.

Joker could hardly believe it. As far as he knew, (and few knew better than he) Superman's grip would kill him before half a minute was up.

He was being choked to death. By Superman. Superman was killing him.

And Batman was just watching.

There was only one word for this.

Hysterical. This had to be the most absolutely, unquestionably, irrefutably ridiculous death scene ever, far beyond anything his twisted mind could have dreamt up.

So he laughed. He laughed long and loud, laughed in the face of his murderer, even as the man's eyes turned red, and his focus turned to the Joker's forehead.

Who got the last laugh, Bats?

Me.

--

It was a subdued group that made their way back to the Batcave as dawn was breaking. Few words were spoken as the various crimefighters made their way to bed. Batman stayed, sitting at his enormous computer. Nightwing too, stood, leaning against a stalagmite.

For a man who had just witnessed the final defeat of his indisputable nemesis, Batman did not look happy.

"So, is this how we fight crime these days? 'Cause I missed that memo." Nightwing's voice was cold.

"Go to bed, Dick." Batman sounded tired, defeated.

"I'm not some kid anymore. You can't order me around." The words sounded juvenile even in his head, but he didn't really care.

Batman gave that exactly the response it deserved.

After a few minutes of stony silence, Nightwing gave up and headed to bed.