Twenty minutes had rarely dragged by so slowly. But sitting down in the dark, because the Manor upstairs was as wrecked as it looked, listening to the Joker laugh was enough to try anyone's nerves.
And there was a reason why Gordon had made damn sure he didn't know Batman's identity-
This is madness-
He didn't want to know the details; his city needed Batman even now. True, things had improved over the years; you could probably trust almost half the cops not to be on the take now, the mob's operations had shrunk considerably, it was harder to get hold of illegal drugs then it had been for decades, but with more dangerous madmen and terrorists per head than anywhere else in the country, a consistent lack of state funding and a 'secure' facility that was at best a joke-
Gotham needed Batman.
Batman was breaking the law.
Gordon toyed briefly with the idea of stepping down, but what would that accomplish? The word accomplice just kept cropping up from the back of his mind and-
"Hold it right there!" The words were as instinctive as reaching for his gun; which wasn't there.
The Joker chuckled. "Brucey doesn't liiiiiiike guns, Kuh-mmishon-eeeeerrrrrrrr.........."
"Stay back!" Gordon ordered with far more confidence then he felt.
"Awwwwww Jimbo you're not still mad about that leeettle.........ab-duc-shon are you?"
Laughing, the Joker advanced.
000
"You're going to give yourself cancer."
He'd laughed and blown a smoke ring, because reeeeeeally, cancer? Those warnings on the pack weren't for decoration?
Of course Brucey hadn't been amused, and it wasn't about the smoking, not reeeeeeeeally. It was about the drugs, any idiot could have seen that-
What? Did Bats think he hadn't, heh heh, noticed that he kept chucking his guts up and his hair was starting to fall out, which reeeeeally couldn't be natural because they both knew he was tougher than that. It didn't take Eddie to figure there was some sort of-uh key-moh-therapy agent in there and hey it didn't take a doc-torate to know they usually caused tumours and if Batsy even thought the words brain-surgery-
No? Well it probably would be hard to explain-
And hey, you never know, a couple of strokes might actually make it better-
Bruce hadn't got that one either; he'd sighed, and left Jackie to smoke out his house.
000
Gordon had spent far too much time in the last twenty four hours wearing handcuffs. He could tell because his wrists felt as though they'd been crushed by a truck.
He sat, staring at the computer. He didn't bother to tug against the restraints or search his pockets for keys this time.
He sat, stared and tried not to work himself up into a fury over the fact the crazy son of a bitch had got the drop on him three times in one day.
Sooner or later Wayne would be back. They'd catch the Joker, one way or another, hopefully before the body count climbed too high-
This whole sorry little experiment would end with the Joker back in Arkham where he belonged and Batman........
Well.
Gordon hadn't decided what to do about Wayne yet-
000
The room was filling with smoke. Behind him, on the floor below, in the corners he couldn't see, he could hear screams and gunshots. And laughter.
It was terrifying.
He could probably untie himself, if he was calm, but he could feel his heart racing to keep up with the adrenaline and the smoke was getting into his lungs and he shouldn't escape, not without a good reason for how Dick Grayson, perfectly normal ward of Bruce Wayne, could have-
Then again fire was a good reason-
Until a bullet meant for someone else clipped you in the smoke while you were trying to find the stairs.
The laughter was getting closer-
He was suddenly sure the Joker was going to kill him; they'd always hated each other and now-
But Batman would-
But the Joker could always make it look like an accident-
Grayson struggled against the chair he was tied to, but the air burnt and stung, he couldn't breathe and he couldn't calm down and the laughter was getting closer.
He jerked and the chair tipped over with a clatter that set one of his kidnappers firing into the smog. The gunshots stopped suddenly, but whether it was because he ran out of bullets or he ran into a clown was impossible to tell.
How did he even get out? Bruce would never let him-
Unless they had Bruce too.
The laughter stopped and with it gone Grayson couldn't help but notice that there was no gunfire, and no screaming.
Someone, he had a good idea who gave the back of the chair a rough kick.
"Amateur."
"What the hell are you doing clown?" Grayson tried to shout and attempted to make his voice sound harsh and commanding the way Bruce did.
He did not precisely succeed.
The chair lurched upright, leaving his stomach on the floor, and rocked precariously on two legs before righting itself. The Joker was twirling a switch blade in his hand, toying with it the way an artist might play with a pencil.
"I'm not in-teeeeerr-rupting anything am I? Beeeeee-cause if you're........busy, aaall- heh heh, tied up with your friends I could come back in a couple of hours?"
By which time the building would have burnt to the ground and he'd have died of smoke inhalation.
Grayson glared at him.
"Awwwwww diddums, did Batsy teach you that one? You haven't got it right you know.......you need to look meaner. You just look like you need some Rennies-"
"Are you going to help me?"
The Joker sniffed. "I haven't de-cided yet."
The switch blade span in his fingers, but he wasn't smiling which was probably a good sign, it probably meant he'd taken his meds and-
The knife came down too fast for him to flinch with enough force behind it to sheer the half dozen layers of duc tape round his wrist. Grayson slowly pulled his hand free. The Joker had managed to carve a two inch slice of skin loose with the tape. He wiped the blood off on his trousers and levered the knife out of the arm rest.
"Were you thinking about Bruce?" Grayson asked as he sawed himself free.
"Oh noooooooooo-" The Joker declared, laughing now that he was running more or less on instinct again. "I thought of the cleaning bill."
000
It was raining heavily over Gotham; the clouds turned the dripping alleyways into set scenes from every story ever written about a Chicago private detective. In one such alley there was a car and a pay phone.
In the car a man in a soaked fedora was laughing at the rain. Make up dripped off his face in thin streams, as though the water was stripping his skin away.
Huddled in the pay phone a teenager, coughed, spluttered and wiped the cut on his arm over his jeans as he dug in his pockets for change. Eventually he found enough to make the call-
He seemed nervous, more so then most young men stranded in a strange part of the city in the middle of the night. He kept glancing back to the car and the man in the fedora.
Then someone answered the phone.
"Yes I'm fine-"
"Yes he's here-"
"Yes I'm sure-"
"No Bruce it just ran out of gas-"
"No we're- What? Oh. Somewhere near the Narrows I think-"
"Yes I know it's not the right way to the Manor but he wouldn't listen-"
"Well I didn't exactly let him, he had the keys and when I tried to take them he-"
"No Bruce."
"Well it wasn't as though I-"
"Yes Bruce."
"No I couldn't, it's a sports car it doesn't have a back seat-"
"No I don't know how he found the keys-"
"Bruce it's Jackie we're talking about of course it's wrecked-"
"Well you could tell them I did it."
"I don't know, isn't that what heirs to massive fortunes are supposed to do? Look I-"
"Yes Bruce."
"No Bruce."
"I know Bruce. Listen is Alfred-"
"Uh huh."
"Well that's good-"
"He did what?!"
"And Gordon hasn't arrested you yet?"
"Wow........ So does that mean-"
"Uh huh. You haven't told him what he did to-"
"No Bruce."
"Yes I know that Bruce-"
"Listen ummm could you pick us up?"
000
It took more than a week for Gordon to find an excuse to visit Wayne Manor alone.
The Butler, so poised no one could have guessed he'd been caught in a hostage situation a few days before, showed him through.
In a small office a pale man in a navy suit was dealing out cards-
If you took away the background; stripped the wood from the walls, the carpet from the floor, bolted the furniture down, swapped the suit for an orange uniform, it would be just like the old days. Gordon sat opposite him instinctively. A hand of cards appeared in front of him. Just like Arkham.
He was silent. That was how it always started. He'd let the officer in front of him talk while his smile grew wider and more dangerous. Gordon wasn't sure what exactly it was that finally raised a response from the Joker-
He laughed, waggled a long finger at Gordon. "First you were confusing sanity with-uh........normality. Noooooooow, you're confusing sanity with morality."
Gordon started to speak, but the Joker continued in that high pitched conversational tone.
"Seeeeee in-sanity is a legal term- it means.......uh- 'Not reeeeee-sponsible for criminal con-duct, as a re-sult of sev-eeeeere mental disease or de-fect, and unable to appreciate the nay-ture, quality or wrrrrrrongfulness of........whatever'. It means you're- uh..... not just out of touch with reality you, heh heh, wouldn't know it if it hit you........ It's not about right and wrong.......it's about perspective-"
He paused produced a cigarette from his blazer pocket and lit up. "Yoooooou want me to tell you that I'm better...........not dain-ger-ous anymore......."
You'd be lying-
"And you don't trust Batsy anymoooooore............ So that just leeeeeeaves me. You want to know why I.......stay here hmmmmm?"
The Joker took a long drag, tilted his head back until he was staring at the ceiling and blew out a line of smoke.
"It's about......peeers-pec-tive........ I don't care much for reality you see........ Do you sleep much Kuh-mish? I didn't.......not reeeeeeally sure how I'-uh do all that stuff......turns out I like being able to stop- sometimes........... And-uh the hallucinations arn't as......real anymore."
He chuckled. "You know Jimbo, if you put me in the dock now they might actually say I'm sane."
000
Of course once the word got out it spread quickly.
Bruce was still caught in the aftermath of almost euphoric relief because the Joker had not gone on a rampage, had actually refrained from killing anyone and it looked as though Gordon had decided to keep his secret at least for now-
He still thought Gotham needed Batman, and may be now that he knew Bruce would be able to keep him in the loop-
Coupled with the current low crime rate, Arkham's gradually improving security and Jackie's slow progress, things were looking surprisingly good for a week that had started with a kidnapping.
Then of course the Big Blue Boy Scout showed up with that laughable expression of outrage plastered over his face.
Bruce didn't pay much attention to what he said. It seemed to be the usual pseudo-ethical offal he touted out when he didn't understand Batman's reasoning.
Alfred served them tea in the parlour. Dick stuck his head round the door briefly, then smartly vanished. And then Jackie showed up.
Their 'conversation' ground to a halt as he sauntered in, coming right up to the table and planting a quick kiss on Bruce's cheek. Bruce kicked him in the shins, but his smile never faltered, and Clark apparently didn't notice because that look of shock clearly suggested his mind had gone to entirely different places.
The Joker chuckled and deposited himself on the arm of a settee. He smiled, kicked his feet like an over excited child but stayed silent. He didn't seem to be in a talkative mood.
Eventually Kent recovered his nerve enough to continue and Bruce went back to 'listening' stoney faced, whilst mulling over crime scene details from ten different cases.
Occasionally the Joker laughed, and it worried Bruce because it was the laugh that said he knew something they didn't.
He waited until Kent got up to go before telling them what it was.
"Soooooo it's true then? Yoou aaaare immune to most poisons?"
Alfred managed to herd a stupefied Superman out before the situation exploded. Bruce sighed.
"Joker-"
"Awwwwww Bats, sweetheart come on! He doesn't count!" The clown protested.
"Jackie-"
"Al-right, al-right....... But do me a fay-vour- hows about we take the lecture as read this time, you just-uh choke me or break my legs and we'll call it even, hmmmmmmmm?"
But when Bruce turned around he was smiling. "You poisoned Superman?"
The Joker shrugged, as if to say that he could not possibly be expected to let a chance like that slip him by.
And Bruce laughed. "Just for that, I'm keeping you."
-000-