(A/N: Okay, longish chapter I think. Finals are over but I'm still a little busy because it's right down to the few days before Christmas and I've done zero shopping. So this chapter isn't corrected or even re-read, but I hope it's up to standard for the most part. Anyone catches a correction, send me a message.)

8: High wire

"Where is she!?!" The Joker demanded, his voice growling so much that he sounded more beast than man. He was beyond furious, livid, or even enraged; that meant he was more deadly than ever. His men knew this, they sat in their chairs like frightened mice cornered by a tiger. They said nothing, they did not move, and they certainly didn't look at him. One wrong move, and they knew that their life would come to a screeching halt right then and there. "Someone say something before I just kill all of you!"

The man who had been in charge when The Joker went out shuffled in his seat. He was going to have to tell the story. Best he could do was tell it to favor him so the shit storm didn't rain down on his head. He put two fingers up, raising his arm. He felt like he was in god damned grade school again. The Joker nodded him on, looking very short on patience.

"Well, the girl…she tricked Joey to look at the stove, she hit him on the head and got out. Then we chased after her and she car-jacked some guy and tried to drive off, but we kept after her and finally got her to spin out on the road. We got her out of the car and Batman came along and…"

The man stopped. There was no way to spin this to make it look good. They were all screwed…so very screwed.

The Joker walked over and put his shoe on the man's chair, right between his legs. Then he pulled out a blade and started cleaning out the grime from under his nails. "Is that so? Our little friend uh- came to Des' rescue?" he asked. The men nodded. "And you all had no chance to stop him whatsoever?" This time, a collective head shake. "Did you idiots ever stop to think to shoot the girl?" The wide-eyed realization on all of their faces indicated that no, they hadn't thought of that. "See, here's my problem now. Because all of you are too incompetent to think one task all the way through, Batman likely now knows my whereabouts. Does anyone know why this makes me angry?" He paused, inspecting the cleaning job he'd just done, and then the next half second later he had the blade jammed hilt-deep into the man's throat in front of him. He pulled the blade out, watching as the man in front of him choked and panicked, trying futilely to stem the flow of his own blood. The other men watched as their second in command slowly slumped in his seat. When he moved no more, The Joker wiped his knife off on the man's clothes and pocketed it. "Now children, let this be a very important lesson to the lot of you. You uh- make daddy angry and you get reprimanded. Let's hope that you've all learned something and won't let it happen again. What I want you to do now is start making some bombs, use whatever supplies we have because we have to do this as soon as possible. I am going to find myself a scarecrow who has a gift from the wizard for me…"

The Joker paced for a moment, thinking, thinking, thinking. One of the men, the one he'd assigned to find out about Desiree came up to him with papers in his hand. The Joker stopped, turning to him and waiting for his report.

"I found some stuff out about the girl, nothing too out of the ordinary. Desiree Lucinda Cavanaugh, age 22-"

The Joker laughed. "Lucinda? Really? Go on…" he kept chuckling here and there afterward. The kid went back to the papers, picking off the information.

"Uh, she graduated four years back and went to GCC for a few semesters and then dropped out and started working odd jobs until she got in at Arkham. Only family was in an assisted living place. It's Green Hills Assisted Living, off Wilburn Avenue. File said he was put in for Alzheimer's, but not too much more there. Something interesting though…" He handed The Joker a sheet of thick paper. The black rimmed eyes scanned it quickly. He focused on the date. Oh, this was too good. He had to find Des and give her the news.

"Did you uh- find out about any friends?"

"Monica West," he handed The joker another piece of parchment with Monica's picture and address. "She was supposed to be working the floor you were on when you got out. Desiree was in her place for some reason. We need to go pick her up, give the chick an incentive to come back?"

The Joker thought about that. It was a good enough plan, not very original…he wanted Des back soon though. "Make it happen." He grabbed the kid's chin and shook it. "I just love you kids and your newfangled technology."

--------------------

It had all happened so quickly, she didn't even really get how the events had occurred. She told Batman everything; where The Joker was, how to get there, what she had seen while in his lair. Then she went to get her dad he was waiting for her…not her father, The Joker. He sat in her father's old leather study chair that she had specially brought over because she knew her dad loved it so much. He was grinning ear-to-ear, his hands folded when she came through the door to his room. She wanted to scream but didn't, she looked around for her dad, but her was nowhere to be seen.

"Des, I told you that you couldn't get away. You are just another one of my things now. I own you. I possess you."

She inhaled a shaky breath. "Whe-where's-"

"Your father? Dear. Old. Dad. He's not in the picture anymore."

"What did you do?" she demanded.

Suddenly The Joker was behind her, his arm slithered around her neck and began squeezing down until she couldn't breathe. She choked and tears started to stream down her face for fear of what he'd done to her dad. The Joker's free hand smoothed some of the hair out of her face, then stroked it gently.

"Shh…shh…shh sweetheart. I'll make the hurt go away."

Desiree felt a sharp pain in her stomach and looked down to see a knife sticking into her gut with The Joker's gloved fingers curled around the handle. He jerked it over and cut way across her stomach. Des knew she was done for, he'd just disemboweled her.

The Joker laughed loudly, manically. He let her drop to the floor and she lay there, unmoving. She couldn't move at all, only listen to the evil cackling.

Desiree sat straight up in the dark bedroom. Sweat poured off her, soaking the bed and her clothing. She felt hot, but inside she was chilled to the very center of her being. What if he had already gotten to her dad? She had to go get him now. Maybe if she talked Batman or Alfred then she could plead with them to go get her dad. He was no risk to their location of secrets; he hardly even knew who she was. She reached over and picked up the phone. It rang to connect to another line that she hadn't dialed. After a few chimes, Alfred picked up.

"Yes miss?"

Desiree gasped. "I need someone to talk to- I mean, I need to talk to Batman."

There was a pause. "I'm afraid that's impossible."

"It's really important, someone…my dad could die. I need him to talk to me now Alfred, please. It can't wait until morning."

"Very well, he'll be down in a short while."

"Thank you."

Desiree hung up and sat back on the pillows. She hugged her knees over the blankets and watched the door. She had to explain the very second that he came in.

After about ten minutes he came in, fully costumed in his Bat-suit. She stood up, crossed the room, and stood right in front of him. She looked up into his eyes, as serious and determined as her own right now. "I need you to get my father."

"Why?"

"He's in danger. If The Joker finds him then he's not going to bestow any mercy, believe me."

"Where is your father?" Batman questioned in his rasping tone. "I could maybe have him put in a safer place…"

Desiree shook her head. "No, he has to be with me. It's fine, he has Alzheimer's and he won't remember a thing. He hardly remembers me."

Bruce looked at the girl's stony and set expression. She was risking all this for her father who didn't even remember her? She was certainly selfless. He couldn't bring him here though. It was just too risky. Better to get the information out of the girl quickly right now and then get both her and her father somewhere far away. "How about you tell me what you know and then we can get your father and move the both of you out of Gotham?"

That was more than fine with Desiree, just as long as the both of them were safe. "Okay, I'll tell you everything you need to know to take that bastard off the map, permanently."

----------------

Jonathan Crane sat at the clean varnished table, waiting. The Joker had found him indeed and was on his way up to pick up his shipment. Crane had it ready, a big order, to serve whatever destructive purposes it was intended for. He didn't really care, he just wanted the chance to get back at that giant rodent that was Batman. He pulled at the corner seam of the burlap sack that his mask was made from. He pulled it over his head and sat back, waiting for The Joker to enter.

There was a knock before The Joker came in, men in tow. He sat opposite of Crane and smiled. "So uh- is it ready?"

"I've got thirty six gallons of it here; enough to gas an entire square mile."

"Good work Scarecrow, now will this beautiful concoction work if I say…uh-hook it up to a bomb or two?" he asked innocently. Nothing that he ever asked was innocent.

Jonathan Crane's lips stretched into a wide smile. He made a cross sign over his heart. "With out a doubt or your money back." He handed over a control with a trigger and a button. The Joker took it from the Scarecrow's outstretched arm. He turned it over, inspecting it carefully. "You pull the trigger and then push the button at the same time that the bomb is going off and you, my friend, will have one large catastrophe on your hands. I assume that's what you're looking for."

The Joker lifted his eyebrows. "Why, this is just what I wanted Santa."

"I hope that when you get a hold of the flying rodent, that you might consider giving me a minute or two with him?" Crane asked darkly. He tilted his head in his mask, looking like a nightmarish creation out of a horror movie. "I would very much appreciate it."

"We can see what happens, but right now my farm-friendly ally, I have some other things to direct my anarchist attention to."

He got up and signaled for them men to grab the three stainless-steel tanks of gas from the floor. They brought them out into the hall and The Joker gave Crane a wink before shutting the door.

"So where to now, boss?" one of the men with him asked.

"You go set these up, and I'm going to pick up a friend for the party. Des will be thrilled when she gets back."

He rode in silence with the men, only telling them not to screw things up when they dropped them off. Then it was over to Arkham where a certain somebody was getting off their shift. He saw the woman from the picture leaving and he and jumped out of the van's sliding door.

Monica was startled by the noise, but was terrified when she saw who had come to call. "Hello Monica, long time no see sweetheart."

"Holy shit!" Monica dropped her purse and went to run, but The Joker caught up to her in a few strides and clamped a hand to her wrist. "Let me go!"

He began dragging her back to the van. People were coming out of the asylum now, see what the screaming was about. Good, the more publicity the better. He threw her in and hopped in after. The driver sped off, rocketing through the gates and out onto the street. He tuned out the woman's incessant screaming and begging as he began to think. All of the pieces were in place now; it was Des' turn to make a move.