CHAPTER 10

Batman landed on the roof of the rundown club with practiced ease, his feet hardly even making a sound against the concrete. He stayed crouched in the shadows, quickly scanning the area for any guards. Once he was positive he was alone he made his way over to the skylight, where the soft yellow light illuminated from below, and the occasional bouts of drunken laughter and conversation drifted through the cracked glass.

"Master Bruce?" The voice crackling over the built-in radio made Batman stop. He pressed a finger to the com-link installed into his cowl before he replied,

"What is it, Alfred?" he asked.

"Sir, as you're aware I called Mrs. Valentine earlier to once again express our condolences with the issue of her daughter."

"I'm aware. How is she?" Batman asked.

"Worried, but surprisingly optimistic. She kept saying that she was absolutely positive her daughter would be found." Alfred replied.

"She was right. Nightwing found her. He's watching her while I deal with Harvey. But I'm guessing you didn't call just to give me a check-up."

"No, sir. Before hanging up the phone she asked me to tell you that she checked through Marcus Dabney's workings like you asked, and there was no mistake." Batman froze, his jaw clenching.

"What?" he demanded.

"There was no mistake. She says that the items you noticed that had yet to be filed were actually missing. She checked herself." When Batman didn't respond he continued, "Is this a problem, sir?"

"Dabney works in the Toxicology department." Batman replied. "Nothing goes in or out of there without me checking it first. If something's missing, then it's definitely a problem. Did she happen to say what was missing?" he asked.

"No, sir. She just relayed the message and hung up. She seemed rather flustered so I didn't press the matter."

"Well, I can't worry about it now. I have to deal with Harvey first. Keep me posted." Batman said, before he continued his previous path towards the skylight. Peering down, he took note of twelve guards in the lobby. From what he could see, only four of the twelve were armed with guns. Nothing he couldn't handle. There were tables scattered around the room, and each was occupied by at least three to four men drinking alcohol or playing poker. Nothing seemed overly suspicious. Well, for a club run by a convicted criminal making a profit off of criminal activity, that is. One man, however, did manage to catch Batman's eye. He was sitting alone in the farthest corner of the room, wearing a black trench coat. He had the collar of the coat pulled up, dark sunglasses guarded his eyes and his head was covered by a black baseball-cap. He was sipping on a small glass of whiskey and tapping his finger against the table impatiently.

Batman's eyes snapped to a door across the room as it was flung open, slamming against the wall in the process. Harvey Dent entered the club, flanked by two of his men who were dressed in standard mix-matched, black and white jumpsuits. A silver briefcase was cuffed to Harvey's left hand while his right was shoved deep into his pocket. He looked absolutely livid. Harvey strode in the direction of the black-clad man that had previously caught Batman's eye, and the Dark Knight frowned. Something was about to go down, and he needed to get closer if he wanted to find out what. Batman scanned the rooftop, looking for any means of entry. His eyes landed on an air-vent nearby, and he hurried over to it.

It would be a tight squeeze, but it would have to do. He ripped off the cover and crawled into the vent, attempting to make as little noise as possible. A challenging task considering his weight and the fact he was in a hurry, but he managed. Batman peered out of various vent covers releasing air into the many rooms of the club, searching for the one where Harvey had recently entered. After a few minutes of searching, Batman finally found a vent cover that overlooked the large room he had previously been supervising. To his benefit, one of the vent covers was almost directly over the table at which Harvey was seated.

"…don't care! I'm getting sick of this, Barret. If we're gonna do this, we gotta do it now." Harvey slammed his fist down on the table. The man across from him sipped his drink calmly.

"Why are you in such a hurry? We have plenty of time to prepare." He said, setting his glass back down on the table with a light clink. Harvey let out an irritated growl,

"Not as much as we thought. The Bat is on our tail." He snarled. Barret's hand twitched and he began tapping his glass with one finger.

"Batman, you say? And you chose to tell me now?" he inquired irritably, clutching the glass tightly in his hand. Harvey scoffed,

"You don't exactly make it easy to contact you." He snapped. The man ignored his comment and sighed.

"I suppose you brought this on yourself. Kidnapping that girl and all…" he muttered, taking a swig of his drink. Harvey clenched his fist around the glass in front of him, and an angry noise emitted from his throat,

"That little brat. When I get my hands on her…" he squeezed the glass and Batman narrowed his eyes at it began to crack, causing a small spider-web design to spread across its surface.

"You will do absolutely nothing." Barret's voice was final. "Anything that has happened up to this point is your fault. It would seem incredibly immature to take out your anger on a teenage girl." He added, amused.

"Who do you think you're talking to? I ought to end you right here, Barret. Save me the trouble of doing it later." Harvey pulled out a pistol from inside his suit and pressed the barrel against Barret's forehead. Batman tensed, ready to intervene, but Barret merely chuckled at Harvey's display of violence.

"Settle down, Mr. Dent. You don't even know the appropriate combination for the formula. If you were to get rid of me now, think of how foolish you'd look later when you're trying to mix up your own concoction and end up getting yourself killed." he pushed the gun away from his face and Harvey mumbled something under his breath, reluctantly concealing the weapon once more.

"Now then, you have the payment?" Barret questioned, propping his elbows up on the table and resting his chin on his laced fingers. Harvey glared at the man for a moment before setting the silver suitcase cuffed to his wrist down on the table. He opened it cautiously and turned it towards the man to reveal several bundles of hundred dollar bills stacked neatly side by side. A dangerous move considering the others in the room, but Harvey's bodyguards obstructed the case from their view.

"I can't believe I'm actually paying you. After all, you made me do all the dirty work while you just sat there." Harvey grumbled. Barret laughed humorlessly,

"You know that none of this could lead back to me. Besides, I'm the one who actually got what you needed in the first place." He reached for the suitcase, but Harvey snapped it shut.

"I don't think so. You get paid after you do your job." Harvey locked the suitcase and returned it to its place by his side. "Think of it as insurance." Harvey sneered. Batman narrowed his eyes. Having heard enough, he placed both feet against the vent cover and pushed with all of his might. The cover popped off, landing on the table below with a crash that drew the attention of all the rooms' patrons. Batman dropped down after it, his cape falling over his shoulders and engulfing him in a black shroud as he landed. Pulling out six batarang's, he sent two flying at Harvey and two at Barret, effectively pinning them to the booths behind them. Harvey and Barret looked up at him in shock as the other men in the club jumped up from their tables.

Several men sprinted for the exits, but others stayed, eager for a fight. Upon seeing the intruder, the four guards pulled out their guns and started shooting. Batman leapt off of the table and rolled under the cover of another. Not a permanent source of protection, the bullets would tear away the wood in no time, but it would give him enough time to prepare. Reaching into his utility belt, he retrieved four more Batarang's. The bullets were starting to rip apart the table now, he needed to move fast. Leaping to the side, Batman took aim and threw the first two Batarang's with expert precision. They hit their mark and the men shooting dropped their guns, clutching their wrists in pain. Two down, two to go. Batman continued running, dodging bullets left and right. The men weren't very good shots, and his constant moving merely added to their inadequacy, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

After a quick roll to the ground, Batman turned and threw his last two batarangs at the remaining gunmen. Now that no one else was shooting he took an opportunity to get to his feet and make his way over to where Harvey and Barret were attempting to free themselves. He could hear the footsteps of a man charging from behind in an attempted sneak attack, and stepped to the side, extending his arm as he did so. The man's throat collided with his forearm and he fell backwards to the ground. The other men in the room were either in a state of shock, or too scared to take a step towards him for an attack. Batman guessed the latter.

"What're you waiting for? Kill him!" Harvey shouted at his two men.

"That goes for the rest of you, too- ten grand to the man who kills the Bat!" Harvey snapped. Chairs and tables were overturned as men made their way towards Batman, snatching up possible weapons as they surrounded the Dark Knight, their greed overshadowing their fear. Batman sent a glare in their direction, and some of them hesitated in their approach. One of the men, tall and lanky with thick sideburns, lunged at Batman with a switchblade. He was fast due to his thin build, but years of training had made Batman faster. He sidestepped to the left, grabbed the man's wrist and thrust his elbow down on his arm. There was a loud pop as the man's wrist dislocated, and he let out a howl of pain before he was tossed roughly aside.

Batman narrowed his eyes as another man, stockier and with more muscle, approached. He decided to use his ham sized fists instead of a weapon, and took a swing at Batman's head. Batman ducked and thrust his fist upward, landing one blow to the man's throat and another to his stomach, sending him sprawling to the floor gasping in pain. Arms surrounded Batman's torso, crushing him so tightly that all of the air left his lungs. He kicked his legs, attempting to knock his attacker off balance, but to no avail. They had lifted him off of the ground so that his feet merely swung through the air. Two men came running towards Batman with wicked smiles on their faces, one wielding a crowbar and the other a broken chair leg. Once they were within reach, Batman pulled his legs in and kicked both men in the face, sending them to the ground holding their heads in pain. Batman then proceeded to slam his head backwards and into the nose of his captor.

The grip on his torso loosened, and he took this as an opportunity to pry himself out of the man's grip. As soon as he hit the ground, he whirled his leg around and landed a solid kick to the man's stomach. He hit the ground like a sack of flour, and Batman turned to face the rest of the group surrounding him. Batman glanced at the table where Harvey and Barret struggled against their binds. Those batarang's were strong enough to hold them for a while, but not forever. If he didn't hurry up, they would be sure to get away. Sighing inwardly, Batman took a stance and prepared for the next attack.

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My mouth had gone dry. I swallowed, and tried to summon even a little bit of saliva, but nothing helped. I felt like I'd been eating dirt. The bay was looking pretty good about now, and I was severely tempted to rush over, stick my head in, and guzzle down some water. Either that, or maybe the iciness of the water would shock me out of this crazy nightmare. Better yet, maybe if I held my head under long enough I'd lose consciousness, and all this will fade to the back of my mind. I wanted to run. I took a hesitant step back, and then another, but I never actually broke out into a run. Partly because I felt like I was in a dream, and that I wasn't actually moving anyway. The other part was due to the fact that the faux-cops had materialized beside me in my shocked state, locking iron grips on my still tender arms. I winced in pain, but otherwise remained silent.

"Come now, my dear, we can't have you running off just as the fun is about to start, now can we?" the Joker approached, hands clasped tightly behind his back. I shrank as far away from him as I could. I'm not afraid of clowns, but meeting the Joker is enough to send anyone running for the hills. There was just something in his eyes, it screamed danger, telling you to run, but at the same time you can't look away. It was absolutely frightening. I remember the first time I ever saw him- and trust me, if you live in Gotham, you've seen the resident loons at least once in your life. I had the benefit of not actually seeing him in person, but on TV. It had been several years ago, on Christmas Eve, when my parents and I had settled down on the living room couch to watch It's a Wonderful Life. I was shocked to see the Joker's ghastly white face pop up on the screen, instead of James Stewart's charming one. I'd had nightmares about the events that occurred on his "TV special" for a week. Now that I was seeing him in person, all of those dreams came rushing vividly to the front of my mind. I shivered.

"W-what do you want?" I questioned. I didn't want my voice to shake like it did, but I couldn't help it. He was just so intimidating. There was nothing logical to anything he did, he just did it. When your fellow psychopaths don't even want anything to do with you, there's a problem. The Joker towered over me menacingly- that crimson smile never wavering on his face.

"I'm so glad you asked!" he threw an arm casually around my shoulders, and the faux-cops released me. I held in a sigh of relief as the throbbing in my arms began to slowly subside. "I was watching the news this afternoon, when the most horrible story popped up!" his voice was dripping with false anguish, "This poor girl named Allie was kidnapped by one of the most deranged men in Gotham!" he looked at me expectantly, as if he were waiting for me to react just as horrified at the story as he appeared to be. I merely stared at him. He ignored my silence and continued as if I'd actually said something,

"Naturally, being the concerned Gotham citizen I am, I wanted to help the poor girl return to her family." He informed, guiding me towards the funhouse. I stared at him cautiously, my steps wavering the closer we got to the building. He took noticed of this and used his grip around my shoulders to force me forward. For a man so skinny, he was actually pretty strong.

"If you really wanted to help, why bring me here? You could have just taken me home." I reasoned. My voice barely came out above a whisper, and I wasn't even sure if the Joker had heard me. His high pitched cackle told me otherwise.

"Good one, kid." He slapped me hard on the back, almost sending me sprawling face first to the ground.

"Harley and I talked it over, and we decided that we just wouldn't be the hospitable, good natured citizens we are if we let you go home hungry, and without a proper 'Welcome Home' party!" He wagged his finger from side to side for emphasis. I swallowed hard, his statement sending chills down my spine. I wasn't really sure if I wanted to have a party with the Joker. We'd reached the funhouse door now and Joker threw it open with such force that it slammed against the wall, causing me to jump.

"Har~ley!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. The interior of the funhouse was dimly lit, making it almost impossible to see. I could just make out the petite silhouette of a woman walking towards us, and I could hear the faint patter of her footsteps on the floor. As she stepped into the light, I immediately recognized the woman as Harley Quinn. She placed a gloved hand on her hip, her ruby lips spread into a mischievous smile. Her pale blue eyes regarded me with mild interest, almost as if she were sizing me up for a fight, before turning adoringly to Joker.

"Yes, puddin'?" she cooed. Joker shoved me roughly in her direction. "Our guest of honor has finally arrived. Do be a dear and keep her company while I make a quick call to be sure our other guests will be arriving." He instructed darkly, pinching Harley's cheek in what I could only suppose was affection. He just didn't seem like the affectionate type, to me. The harlequin woman seemed to melt at his touch, though, and gave a mock salute as Joker walked away. She turned to me with a bright smile.

"Well, c'mon Goldie Locks, you can help me feed the babies while Mr. J puts the finishing touches on your big night." She winked, heading off in the direction that the "babies" must have been in. I blinked in confusion, following the female rogue slowly. Maybe I'm a little out of the loop or something, but… When did Harley and the Joker have kids?

A/N

Sooo, yes, I am alive.
I'm really sorry this took so long :/
I had ACT's and a whole bunch of other stuff come up that just completely threw me out of whack.

But, here's a chapter for you all! :D
I'm not even sure if any of you are interested, but in my original concept of this
story Batman didn't appear until the very last chapter. And Alfred didn't even make the small cameo he did in this chapter.
As I started writing though it just got harder and harder to NOT incorporate Batman in more.
So yep, there's that. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long.

Until next time! Stay safe everyone! :)