Disclaimer: Batman is owned by DC Comics and whoever else owns it. I in no way claim it as my own; I'm just borrowing. Any OCs are mine and the plot is also mine, except for anything from TDK.


A/N: Yes, an update. They're infrequent, but they're coming. I just have other things I'm working on, so I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. I kind of fell out of love with this fandom, so it's hard to get out the chapters. Again, sorry. Just bare with me, if you're still reading.


Queen Takes Pawn

by Syrenia


Chapter Seven - Changes


Crow was laid out on her bed. It had been two days since the 'incident' with the clown. She had moved from the infirmary cot and back to her own bed, but then stayed there for most of her time.

The clown? Well, he was missing, probably trying to wrap his head around almost having killed his own toy.

For some reason, her state of near death had distressed him, making her ponder briefly over whether he may still have a human heart lingering within. She sincerely doubted it, however.

As to her wounds, they were nicely bandaged up courtesy of one of the Joker's men who had a clue as to what he was doing, and for him she was thankful. However, they needed to be changed sooner than later. To do it herself, though, would be a feat. If she moved too much, the stitching could pop and she'd have a whole new kettle of fish to deal with. She didn't fancy that thought.

From where she lie, beak not even on her face and thus leaving the area which was uncovered twitching habitually, the bird girl sighed deeply.

"Oh, Chels... We wouldn't even be in this mess if you hadn't taken in Crazy Crane," Crow spoke aloud in the empty room, smirking to herself even as her face twitched periodically.

'Yes, I know,' Chelsie replied in their shared thoughts. 'But then again, I never would have created you, my hero.'

"True enough, sweetheart; true enough," conceded the alter ego, once more speaking aloud.

Moments later, her bedroom door opened, none other than the Joker walking in.

She merely looked at him, face still twitching oddly.

After staring at her a moment, he walked in and shut the door behind him before heading to a desk near her bed. He pulled the chair closer to her bed, spinning it around and sitting down with the back of the chair before him, his arms resting over it.

"Sooo," he began, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a knife to toy with. "The li'l, ah, tune you were humming the other day..."

The blackbird sighed, having realized the subject would eventually come up.

"What was it?" the clown asked, gaze rising from his knife to Crow's face.

"If I told you, things would be borin', puddin' pop," she reasoned with a smile, a finger scratching the skin that her beak would normally cover. "You don't strike me as someone who likes things to be borin'..."


The Joker's little visit, in which he let his question go unanswered, was rather boring for the bird girl. He didn't talk much and seemed cautious around her for reasons she could only guess had something to do with her near-death experience.

At least he had made himself useful and changed her bandaging, doing so in a particularly careful and gentle manner that unnerved her greatly, even though she made no hint of the feeling outwardly. She reasoned it unnerved her because his type weren't so supposed to be so cautious; he was supposed to be rough and uncaring of her pain.

Something had obviously changed in their dynamic, Crow realized, but she wasn't sure what it was.

Whatever it was, however, she was sure the catalyst had been the incident with the vase, for what else could change his behavior so drastically?

She hoped - prayed, even - that his demeanor would revert back to its old, familiar manner. Crow didn't think she could stand a Joker who handled her with care. It was decidedly less fun than his normal dog-like habit of just doing things regardless of the consequences, rules be damned and broken alike.


The next day, Crow was tired of laying in bed, so she sat up on the edge at the side of the mattress instead.

As of the moment, she bore a thoughtful expression.

"Ah... Whatcha' thinkin' about, dollfac-e?" a sudden voice asked, Crow breaking her stare off into nothing to look over to the curious countenance of the clown.

The Joker had come back and was acting slightly more like himself, now more talkative and less somber-toned. For that change, she was relieved and thankful.

"I was wonderin' why Jonny boy hasn't broken out of Arkham yet," the brunette replied honestly, looking away thoughtfully. "I thought he would come back to me..."

The Joker brushed it off, stating, "Jonny boy probably doesn'-t care abou-t you..."

She scowled, staring ahead once more; Crow knew Scarecrow wouldn't give up his love notion that easily. Obviously, Jonathan and his Scarecrow had some kind of plan. Maybe they were waiting for the opportune moment to escape, or maybe Scarecrow wanted her to come bust him out so that he'd have "proof" of her undying love or something ridiculous like that.

But all these thoughts were not for the clown to hear; she had to keep him relatively happy and he probably didn't want her mind wandering off in regards to Jonathan and the Scarecrow while he was in her presence. He was too egotistical to allow that, after all.

"If he's waitin' for us to break him outta there, he'll be waitin' a long time," she commented, Crow smirking at the thought of Scarecrow and Jonny waiting patiently for the one they apparently loved to bust them out of Arkham as if they weren't perfectly capable of breaking out of there themselves.

The Joker laughed, satisfied to imagine Crane pining away after the pair in his cell. As long as the crazy ex-doctor was away from his toy, however, he didn't care what became of the other man.

"Sooo... his business," the clown brought up the topic that had caused the 'incident' carefully, brown gaze lifting to the bird to see her body stiffen and shudder like a crow whose feathers were ruffled.

"I'm still runnin' it, Pooka," she said, calling him a nickname she recently thought of.

He was like a Pooka, after all, the Pooka being a deft shape shifter. It could take on many terrifying forms, one such being a horse of which was said that if a human should mount it, the Pooka would take the person for a wild ride. However, unlike another mythical being, it would do no real harm to the rider.

That was what he was like to her, the nickname both an insult and a compliment, neither of which he would probably ever catch on to.

"Pooka," he muttered the nickname, pondering over it. "Poo-ka..."

Satisfied with the strange name which he didn't question, he looked back up to her.

"Then, ah, let's... com-pro-mise," suggested the Joker.

Crow peered over her shoulder at him curiously, "I'm listenin'..."

"Let me... Ah, let me run his li'l business until Jonny boy comes back-ah," he gave her his offer, gaze watching her.

"Hm... Well, that sounds fine, funny bunny, so it's a deal," the bird girl gave in easily, pleased to have the business off her back.

Truth be told, she didn't want to deal with Jonathan's damn business, only feeling she should keep it afloat since she owed him as much. But who ran it wasn't important as long as it was run.

Joker smiled, pleased with the ease of getting her to relent.

And then both of their minds turned, both pondering on their new dynamic...


Meanwhile, at Arkham, Crane's rec. room privileges had been restored thanks to Harleen Quinzel. However, just as she said, it seemed Crow wasn't making anymore videos. Such only suggested she was too busy with the clown to carry out her distractions.

Such didn't please him in the least, nor did it please his Scarecrow.