A/N: I'd just like to thank those who gave me some very nice reviews for the first chapter. Thanks so much!

Batman & Benson 2

Two

"Riddles & Visitors"

'Where is he?' Commissioner Gordon wondered, as he scanned the night skies over Gotham City. The blackness was pierced by the bright, stabbing light of the Bat-Signal, which projected a large black bat against the curtain of night. Gordon stood next to this spotlight on the roof of police headquarters.

Gordon glanced at his watch. 'The Bat-Signal's been lit for almost ten minutes, now,' he thought. 'So why isn't he--'

"Hello, Jim," a voice called to him from the shadows.

"Oh, jeez!" Gordon exclaimed, as his heart felt as though it just did a somersault in his chest. He glanced over and saw the Batman was hunched down on the ledge of the building. "You really enjoy scaring the hell out of me, don't you?"

"Rupert Thorne hired those men to kill Alex Cabot," Batman said. "And they knew her real name, Jim."

"Rupert Thorne?" Gordon said incredulously as he switched off the Bat-Signal. "He put the hit out on Cabot personally?"

"The Stylist told me so himself," Batman said. "I didn't know Thorne worked in league with the drug lords."

"Neither did I," Gordon confessed. "I mean, we knew Thorne allowed drug sales to be made on his turf, so long as he got a cut of the profits. But working so closely with the drug lords to the point where he's doing their dirty work? That's news to me. Speaking of Cabot, where is she?"

"She's safe," Batman said, and from the tone of his voice Gordon knew that was all he would get from the Dark Knight regarding Alex Cabot. The Batman gestured at the Bat-Signal and said, "You called me, Jim?"

"Yeah. We got a letter. I think it was hand-delivered to the mail room, because there was no post-mark on the envelope."

"Who's it from?" Batman asked.

"Don't know," Gordon replied, as he handed Batman a copy of the letter. "It's just signed with a green question mark."

"There are three questions," Batman said, looking over the letter. "The first is: 'What do you get when you call 411?' The second: 'Despite it's beauty, why fear a rose?' And the third: 'What do the beheaded angels in the closed temple have to say?'"

"It's sounds like gibberish to me," Gordon said. "But in this day and age, especially with all the conventions in town now, I didn't want to just ignore it. What do you make of it?"

"They're riddles," Batman said thoughtfully. He handed the letter back to Gordon. "And I think I know what it means. Excuse me, Jim."

"Where are you going?" Gordon asked.

"To see some decapitated angels about a crime boss," Batman replied, just before he jumped off the edge of the building in a graceful dive. He looked for all the world like he was diving into a swimming pool, instead of off the ledge of a seventy story building.

"You're making about as much sense as this letter!" Gordon called after him. Yet when he peered over the ledge, Gordon saw that the Batman was already long gone. It was as if the Dark Knight had vanished into thin air.

'Jeez,' Gordon thought, as he felt a chill run up his back, 'I'm really glad he's on our side!'

B&B

When Olivia pulled the car up to the main doorway of Wayne Manor, she saw that Alfred was standing there, already waiting for her.

"Hey, Alfred," Olivia said, as she got out of the car.

"Good evening, Liv," Alfred said with a warm smile. "It's very good to see you again." He chuckled softly when she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "How are things with Gotham City's own Special Victim's Unit?"

"They're done training," she said, as they walked into the manor. "The unit officially goes online at midnight tonight."

"Oh, splendid!" Alfred said. "You must be very proud…as well as sad, since now you shall be leaving them."

"Well, not just yet," Olivia told him, as she flipped open her badge case.

"Inspector Olivia Benson," Alfred said with a pleased smile. "That sounds very nice! Will this be a permanent arrangement?"

"Gordon wants me to stay on as their commander through the weekend. We figured it would be a good idea, since there's the police and science convention, as well as the Ancient Treasures exhibit in town."

"And what about after the weekend?"

"I don't know," Olivia admitted. "Gordon wants me to stay on as the SVU's commander. What do you think I should do, Alfred?"

"That depends, Olivia."

"On what?"

"On what you wish to do," he told her. "That decision can only be made by you. I'm afraid Master Bruce isn't here. He's been called away. But there is someone here to see you: Kitty."

Alfred gestured at the living room entrance, where Alex Cabot stood with a broad smile on her face. Olivia ran into her arms and they embraced warmly.

"When I heard about the attempt on your life, I was so scared!" Olivia said, as she broke from their embrace.

"I have one of the best bodyguards around," Alex told her, smiling. "If not the best…and it's all thanks to you, remember?" She abruptly stared after Alfred, who left the room, and asked, "Did he just call me kitty?"

Olivia laughed. "It was our code name for you when we spoke on the phone earlier. Now tell me everything that happened."

"All I know was that Batman appeared in my office window," Alex said. "He told me that I wasn't safe any longer, and to come with him, which I did. Rupert Thorne put the hit out on me, Liv--can you believe that?"

"No, I don't," Olivia replied. "It's not that I don't believe Batman, I do. But it's just so strange. Thorne is reputed to be one of the major crime lords in the country. Why would he be doing the work of the drug lords? They need Thorne far more than he needs them."

Alex shook her head sadly. "All I know is that my identity here is busted. I don't want to leave Gotham City, Liv. This has become my home, I've put down roots here. I can't leave, anyway--since I'm no longer in the witness protection program. I just don't know what I'm going to do now."

"We'll work something out," Olivia assured her. "Somehow, someway, we'll fix it."

A small smile crept across Alex's face. "I overheard you and Alfred talking. He called you Inspector?"

Olivia flipped open her badge. "Gordon made it official--at least throughout the weekend. I'm the Gotham City Police SVU commander."

"Inspector Olivia Benson," Alex said, sounding impressed as she read off the name on the ID card. "Oh, Liv, that's wonderful!"

"Yeah," Olivia said without much enthusiasm. "I-I'm just staying on in my advisory role, though. I don't think I'm…I'm not…." Her voice trailed off.

Alex gently rubbed her arm. "What is it, Liv?"

"I'm not fit to be a cop anymore," Olivia whispered, her eyes cast down at the floor in shame.

"Oh, Olivia, honey," Alex said. "You can't keep blaming yourself forever!"

"Why not?" Olivia replied. "It was my fault that little boy died."

"No it wasn't," Alex said firmly. "You can't keep doing this to yourself!"

Olivia thought back to little Rebecca Clifford, who stared at her with a pleading look--just before Victor Paul Gitano slashed Olivia's throat with the knife. It wasn't a mortal wound; yet it was enough to allow Gitano to get away long enough to kill Rebecca's brother, Ryan. When next Olivia saw the little boy, he lay dead on the asphalt in the Port Authority bus terminal. If she hadn't allowed herself to be stabbed, if Elliot hadn't stopped to help her, Ryan would still be alive.

"What happened in that bus station was not your fault," Alex insisted.

"Tell that to Ryan Clifford," Olivia muttered darkly.

B&B

When Batman saw the church, he nodded. 'That's it.'

St. Peter's Church Of The Divine had been closed down for renovations several years ago, only to be shut for good when the construction crew working inside suffered a major accident. Nobody was hurt, but the accident caused further damage to the interior of the structure that went beyond the budget of what the local parish had to fix it. While the parishioners went and found themselves a smaller, more modern church in another part of town to worship in, this monstrosity--with its towering gothic stonework and intimidating statues of avenging angels battling horrid demons--was left permanently sealed-up in the Iron View section of Gotham City. One of the oldest structures in the city--having first been built when Gotham City was a village in colonial times--St. Peter's received a reputation in recent years as being haunted.

'Hope the ghosts don't mind if I pay a visit,' Batman thought, as he shot a cable across the street. Once the end was securely hooked around the top of one of the church steeples, Batman effortlessly swung across the street and landed on the roof of St. Peter's.

Gaining access through the skylight, Batman slowly descended into the church. It was a dark, cavernous place, with abandoned scaffolding looking like skeletal remains. Batman clicked on the night vision lenses within his cowl, and glanced up at a row of angelic statues, just above the pews. The renovation crew had dislodged an old support beam, which swung down and knocked all the heads off of the statutes--in effect, decapitating them.

Batman recalled the first riddle in the note: 'What do you get when you call 411?'

"Information," he said softly, answering the riddle.

The second riddle was: 'Despite it's beauty, why fear a rose?'

"Because of its thorns."

And the third: 'What do the beheaded angels in the closed temple have to say?'

Batman glanced up at the row of beheaded angel statues and murmured: "Let's find out."

After he climbed up into the mini-alcove, Batman immediately noticed the package that rested in the lap of one of the decapitated angels. The overall riddle was exactly what he figured: 'Information about Boss Thorn will be found by the beheaded angel statues in the closed church.'

Still, he was careful to check the package out for a booby trap before he handled it. Once assured that it was clean, Batman picked up the package--which was plain, save for a green question mark on one side--and opened it.

Inside was a homemade CD, along with still photos, all of Rupert Thorne.

'Interesting,' Batman thought, as he looked over the material. 'Very interesting….'

B&B

"Hey Smallville, you asleep?"

"No, Lois," Clark Kent said, as he glanced over at her with a smile. "Just enjoying the view."

"What view?" Lois Lane said with a frown. She gestured at the darkness beyond the train they rode in. "It's nighttime out there."

"Just because it's dark," Clark said, as he meekly adjusted his glasses, "doesn't always mean you can't see anything."

"Well, listen to the philosopher!" Lois said with a smirk.

"What? You don't believe me?" Clark asked mildly.

Lois leaned over to him and whispered, "Actually, I don't believe how calm you've been lately. If I've been saddled with babysitting a teenage cousin at the last minute like you, I would have gone nuts!"

"Linda's a great kid," he said.

"Don't get me wrong, she's a doll!" Lois told him. "I didn't mean to imply she wasn't. But, you've got to admit, Clark, that she can be a little rambunctious at times."

"Yes, she can," Clark agreed with a heavy sigh. "But she's young--just fifteen--and being rambunctious comes with the territory, I guess. I suppose you were pretty rambunctious at that age, too, Lois."

"Oh God, you have no idea," Lois said, shaking her head. "My poor mother! The things I put her through!"

"Really?" Clark said, as he smiled broadly. He eagerly leaned forward. "Do tell!"

Lois waved a hand at him. "When hell freezes over, Smallville!"

"Hold that pose!" Jimmy Olsen said. He stood in the isle, holding a camera up in his hands. "I want to get a shot of the happy couple."

"Jimmy, would you please stop wasting film?" Lois chided him, as she blinked her eyes in annoyance from the flash. "We're not even in Gotham City yet!"

"It's a digital camera," Jimmy told her. "The Chief…uh, I mean, Mr. White wanted me to try taking some shots with it as a test. I've still got my film cameras with me, as well. I really hope I can get a good shot of the Batman! Hey, Ms. Lane, you've been in Gotham City before, what's it like?"

"Dark, dank and overcrowded," she replied blandly.

"I guess Gotham City won't be hiring you to write their tourism fliers," Clark retorted. He glanced up at Jimmy and added, "I thought Linda was with you."

"She was, but she wanted to spend a little more time in the observation car," Jimmy replied.

"I think I'll join her," Clark said, as he got up. "I'd like to stretch my legs, anyway. Lois was just about to tell me about her rambunctious youth, Jim. Maybe she'll regale you with some of her sordid tales."

"Ah, yes," Jimmy said, with a faraway look in his eyes, "I recall the wild, rambunctious days of my youth, as well."

"Who are you kidding, Jimmy," Lois muttered. "What are you, twenty? You're still a wild, rambunctious youth right now!"

"Whatever you say, Ms. Lane," Jimmy said, his face blushing.

B&B

Clark went to the observation car and found his cousin Kara sitting by herself at the far end, gazing out the massive skylight that displayed the starry skies above. He took a moment to regard the young woman, and marveled at how Kara appeared for all the world to be just another fifteen year old girl. She had come a long way from being the lone survivor whom he'd found in suspended animation in the ruins of Argo City several months ago. For Kara, making the adjustment to living on Earth was even harder than Clark had it; for while he grew up here, she was a transplanted Kryptonian, with full memories of her previous life. And yet Kara managed to fit into earth society seamlessly within the short time she was here, making Clark extremely proud of her for that.

When he strode up to her, Kara smiled at him and said, "This thing--this train--is so slow! You know, if we really wanted, you and I could be in Gotham City right now, Kal-El."

"Don't call me that," Clark said in a heated whisper. "Remember, when I'm dressed like this--"

"--your name is Clark Kent," Kara said with a weary nod of her head. "Just like my name is now Linda. Yes, sorry, cousin! I forgot." She stood up and faced him. "I've got to say, knowing who you really are, and what you're capable of, it's really strange seeing you like this, Kal--um, Clark. You try so hard to fit in with these people, and although you and I look like them, we can never truly be them."

"Trust me, we need a break from being who we truly are. That was the main reason I assumed this guise."

"Oh, really?" Kara said with a broad smile. "You sure it's not because you can be close to Lois?"

Clark frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Cuz," Kara said with a giggle. "Don't be coy with me! I can see how much you really like her."

"Of course I like Lois," Clark said patiently. "She's a good friend of mine and a great reporter."

"Right," Kara said with a smug look. "Whatever you say, Mr. Kent."

The darkness of the countryside outside the windows was replaced by the bright lights of the outskirts of Gotham City. "Come on, we should be arriving soon," Clark said, grateful for the change of subject. "Let's get back to Lois and Jimmy so we can get ready to disembark."

"You pack your work clothes?" Kara whispered excitedly.

Clark couldn't help but smile. 'Work clothes' was Kara's term for the supersuits that they wore. He fashioned a suit for Kara out of the leftover material he had from his own supersuit. That very same material came from the blankets and clothing that his parents had sent with him in the ship that carried him to Earth when he was an infant. "Yes, I have it. I'm not expecting trouble, but I'd like to be ready for it, just in case."

"Yeah, me too," Kara said. "Hey, maybe we can sneak out sometime and hunt down the Batman! You know, we can see for ourselves if the stories about him are true; like that one that says he's really a vampire."

"We'll do nothing of the sort," Clark chided her. "We'll help out if we're needed, but we won't go looking for trouble. I'm going to be working and you'll just be another tourist on this little excursion to Gotham City, Linda. Let's keep it that way. We should both hope that nothing catastrophic happens on this trip."

"Yeah, just my luck, nothing really exciting will happen," Kara muttered, looking bored. "Does Gotham City have anything worthwhile that I can do?"

"Of course it does!" Clark said. "There's the police convention. That should be interesting--not to mention the science fair, and the Treasures Of The Ancient World Exhibit. There's all kinds of fun things for you to do."

"Uh, yeah, right," Kara replied, stifling a yawn. "Then again, I might just stay in my hotel room the whole trip. Does it have cable?"

"Yes, it will," Clark replied with a sigh, feeling deflated. As he escorted his petulant cousin back to their seats, he wondered if Lois may have had a point.

'Dealing with Kara in one of her sulky moods almost makes me miss Lex Luthor!' he thought dismally.

B&B

Dr. Beatrice Solana let out a weary sigh as she put away the paperwork on her desk. Nobody ever said running an institution for the criminally insane would be easy, but there were days when being the administrator of Arkham Asylum were especially trying. And today was a rough one.

Jonathan Crane, a.k.a. the Scarecrow, had just narrowly succeeded in escaping this afternoon, were it not for the alertness of her colleague Dr. Harley Quinn, who noticed that the guards in the game room were acting strangely. Crane had somehow managed to mix up some of his fear gas, which he squirted at the guards. Thankfully Harley had noticed the men were beginning to act fearful and set off the alarms before Crane even had a chance to escape.

'Had Harley not noticed the guards acting strange, Crane probably would have been long gone before we even knew it!' Solana thought with a shudder.

She glanced at the time and saw that it was just after nine o'clock at night. 'Quitting time,' Solana thought with a nod. 'Might as well see if Harley is up for some dinner. It'll be my treat. Lord knows it's the least I can do for the hero of Arkham!'

Yet when she checked Quinn's office, Solana saw that the lights were still on, and Harley's coat was still hanging in the closet--yet there was no sign of her colleague.

Solana dug out her cell phone and called the main desk. When a guard answered, she asked, "Did Dr. Quinn leave yet?"

There was a pause as the guard consulted his log book. "No, ma'am," he reported. "Dr. Quinn has not checked out yet today."

"All right, thank you," she said as she ended the call. Solana checked Harley's day planner, which she had left opened on her desk, and her eyes grew wide at what she saw.

Her last scheduled patient was the Joker, and that had been at five o'clock. Four hours had gone by, and nobody had seen or heard from Harley since.

'Oh good Lord,' Solana thought with dread as she called downstairs to the Joker ward. That psychopath was such a threat to everyone that he warranted a special ward all to himself.

But there was no answer.

"Oh, dear God, please," Solana said aloud, as she called the Joker Squad.

"Joker Squad," a male voice answered.

"This is Dr. Solana," she said. "We may have a problem in the Joker Ward. Go to full alert."

"Yes, ma'am," the man said curtly.

"Please God, please, let me be wrong," Solana muttered to herself, as she descended to the Joker Ward in the elevator. The elevator doors opened onto an alcove, where all six members of the Joker Squad stood. All were built like football players, the shortest man on the squad was six foot two inches, and they were all clad in full riot gear and armed with batons and stun guns. Whenever there was a crisis involving the Joker, these specially trained men were the team who handled it.

Solana just hoped they weren't too late.

Their leader, Jerry Hilliard, peered into the windows in the doors. "There's nobody at the desk," he grimly informed her. He held his hand out for the card that would open the door. When Solana gave it to him, he swiped it in the electronic slot and the doors opened.

The first thing they saw was the body lying on the floor. It was Billy Thurmond, a ten year veteran of Arkham who had just celebrated his fifteenth wedding anniversary last week. Now he lay in a pool of his own blood with his throat slashed from ear to ear.

"All right, fan out!" Jerry Hilliard ordered his men. "Forget the batons, go right to the stun guns. You see the bastard, shoot him down! Vince, you stay with the doctor!"

Solana couldn't take her eyes off the body of poor Billy, yet the sight of all the blood splattered on the walls was hard to ignore.

"We found Larry!" one of the Joker Squad reported from his position in the hallway. "Also dead; throat slashed as well!"

"Where's Dr. Quinn!" Solana cried. "What did he do to Harley!"

"She's in here!" Hilliard called from within the Joker's cell.

Dr. Solana was almost afraid to look in the cell; she didn't want to see what horrible, mangled condition the Joker had left Harley in.

"She's alive!" Hilliard called.

At that Solana ran into the cell and saw Harley lay on the bed, trussed up with a straightjacket. Her bare legs were bound with torn-up bed sheets, and when one of the Joker Squad members removed her gag, Harley begin screaming and crying incoherently.

Solana bent down so that she was face to face with her friend. "Harley, Harley! It's me, Bea!"

"I couldn't stop him!" Harley cried. "He killed them all, and he escaped! He's loose, Bea! That monster is loose, and I couldn't stop him!"

"It's all right," Solana soothed the younger woman. "It's all over now."

As Solana began to free Harley from the straightjacket, Hilliard picked up a phone on the wall and called in the details of the escape. "Lock down!" he shouted into the phone. "Immediate lock down, all stations, RIGHT NOW!"

'Oh my God,' Solana thought in horror, as she stared at Harley. The woman was naked from the waist down. Solana quickly covered her friend up with the blanket that was on the bed.

"He…touched me," Harley said, still in a state of shock. "He-he did things to me, Bea!"

"Shhh," Solana said, as she cradled Harley in her arms. "There, there, honey. I'm here, I'm here."

Hilliard came over and said, "Excuse me, ma'am. But we've locked down the facility."

"I understand." As much as Solana wanted to remain and comfort her friend, as administrator of Arkham, the security protocols required her presence to visually inspect the asylum before the lock down can be lifted. "Will somebody stay with her until help arrives?"

"Of course," Hilliard replied. "We've already got a medical team on their way for her. Vince will stay with Dr. Quinn until they arrive."

As they strode into the hallway, Solana whispered, "She was raped, Jerry. The bastard raped her."

"Looks like Gotham PD's new Special Victim's Unit will have a busy night," Hilliard grimly replied. "But it should be an open and shut case--with the entire asylum locked down, that pale-faced son of a bitch isn't going anywhere!"

And so they began the tedious and nerve-wracking task of "clearing" the asylum section by section until they found the Joker. Yet the Joker was nowhere to be seen. Solana became more and more alarmed until they reached the main hub, just outside the visitor's section, which was the last to be cleared. That as when the unsettling fact dawn on her that they had cleared the entire asylum--yet there was no sign of the Joker.

Solana ordered a review of everybody who signed in and out all day long. As she, Hilliard, and the front desk security guard poured over the names on the computer screen. Solana's eyes went wide when she saw that Billy Thurmond had signed out at seven forty five pm.

"He couldn't have signed out!" she cried. "He's lying dead in a pool of his own blood downstairs!"

"Call up the security camera for that time," Hilliard ordered the guard. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and asked one of his men to search the body of Billy Thurmond for his ID card.

"There!" the security guard called, as she pointed at the screen.

"Vince just confirmed that Billy's ID card is missing," Hilliard said.

Solana watched in horror on the screen as a man walked up to the security booth and swiped a card in the slot, which allowed the front doors to open for him. He was careful to keep his head down, his face hidden from the camera by the baseball cap he wore, as well as the collar of his jacket, which he wore up. His hands were covered with gloves, yet when Solana caught a glimpse of his forearm, she was horrified to see that it was a pure alabaster in color.

"Oh crap," Hilliard said, as they watched the figure on the screen calmly walk out the door.

"Jerry," Solana said, "alert the Gotham City police, and tell them…." Solana hesitated. She then took a deep breath and spoke the four words that she'd always dreaded to hear herself say: "The Joker has escaped!"

To be continued...