Tim's eyes snapped open to tires screeching on pavement, followed by a car speeding away.

He gasped groggily, bolting upright in bed. He took in his dark bedroom. The horizontal slits of light coming from the shades at his window anchored him back to reality.

Another boy might have simply turned over mumbling, disgruntled at such a rude start from his sleep.

This boy leaped out of bed and threw open his door, running down the long hall toward the Batcave.

He was halted in his progress by literally running headfirst into Bruce's back. Tim's patron was unsurprisingly headed in the same direction as he was.

"Oof!" The boy cried.

"Tim," Bruce said sternly, taking him by the shoulders. "What are you doing out of bed?"

Tim looked at him askance. "What do you mean? I heard a car rush off—and how many cars come that close to Wayne manor, and much less speed off in that way? What's going on?"

Bruce stared at him. "I…I can't explain."

"What!" Tim's eyes narrowed in indignation. "Since when? Last I checked, I'm the only Robin you got. So what can't you tell me?"

Bruce continued staring at the boy for a moment, and Tim was struck by the foreign look that came into his eyes: uncertainty. It faded quickly, replaced instead by Bruce's trademark expression of grim sobriety. He placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, and directed him toward the Batcave. "All right, Tim. I'll tell you." He inhaled. "It's about Jackie."


When Batgirl entered the cave, Batman and Nightwing were already in costume, deep in discussion by the lab. Robin was also there, but he sat apart from them on a stool by the Batmobile. Batgirl noted how sullen he looked.

She was NOT looking forward to this. She was the one who had failed her best friend, after all. All she had to do was keep the Joker away from Jackie, and she couldn't even do that without getting knocked out by the clown freak.

She squared her shoulders, refusing to indulge in self-loathing. That'll help Jackie even less than the stupid stunts I've already pulled tonight.

She approached the duo, addressing Batman, who was hunched over a microscope. "What do you got?" She felt Nightwing's eyes on her, but refused to deal with whatever was in her ex-boyfriend's eyes right now, whether it be pity or blame.

Without looking up, Batman answered her. "A mineral or rock of some sort left behind from the Joker's tires when he tore out of here with Jackie. It might give us some indication where he intends on taking her."

"I thought he stole the car on the way here from town hall."

"True, but there was a scuffle. The old woman he stole the car from is recovering in the hospital, and she says she struggled with him enough that something off of Joker might have fallen onto the tires during the fight."

"She scored for abused grannies everywhere," Nightwing quipped.

Batgirl rolled her eyes, peering at the sample over Batman's shoulder. "Anything yet?"

"Yes," he exhaled slowly, sitting up. "Yes. It's…it's a sequin."

Batgirl frowned. "A sequin? Like on a gown? Seems like it might be a dead end, then. He could have gotten that off of anybody at the ball tonight."

Batman shook his head, scrutinizing the piece of evidence. "No, not one like this. This is too gauche and cheaply made for a shindig at town hall." He held the specimen up to the light, where the pasty glitter sparkled pink and crimson. "This is from a costume piece."

"A costume piece?" Nightwing questioned incredulously. "But that's…." he paused thoughtfully. "That's…actually totally not surprising, considering we're dealing with the Joker here. If there's one guy who's gonna go for the theatrical"—

"So, what do you think, then?" Batgirl asked, getting back on track. "Do you know where she is?"

Batman nodded slowly, especially after he determined that an element on the sequin was from salt water. "Yes. Yes, I know where she is now."

Batgirl and Nightwing almost jumped as Robin spoke, his silence having almost made them forget his presence. "Where? Where's he got her?" He jumped off his stool, and joined the team by the microscope.

"The costume warehouse near the waterfront."


Jackie's eyes snapped open to high-pitched cackling and shuffling of fabrics, some of which landed on her huddled form, where she lay in a half-delirious state on her side.

She remembered.

Gasping softly, she sat up tentatively, taking in her surroundings. She sat on a pile of costumes, including a ballerina tutu and feather boa, all placed on a concrete floor. She was in a warehouse of sorts, other garish costumes piled high, almost up to the ceiling.

Her father was buried in one such pile now, pulling various costumes out of their plastic wraps, giggling to himself. Apparently his murderous fury at her emotional appeal was replaced with childlike enthusiasm in whatever new task he was immersed in. "Nope, nope, maybe, nope nope, nosiree bub, nope!" He threw each rejected piece over his shoulder, and the soft "ack" Jackie muttered as a sultan's turban hat flew into her face alerted Joker to his daughter's now fully conscious state.

"Weeeeeeelll!" He smiled, turning to her. "Rise and shine, kiddo! Welcome to your new temporary home!" He stretched his arms out, indicating the chaotic warehouse. "And I do mean temporary. Call this a backstage visit before the big show." At this he dissolved into a fresh fit of laughter, burying his gleeful face into one of his hands.

Jackie sat stone still for a second. Her eyes swept over her surroundings once more. Then raising her eyebrows, she responded by letting out a perplexed whistle. "Quite a joint." Despite her efforts at an aloof cool, a hint of fear still sneaked into her quiet voice.

"Truth be told," Joker said, still rifling through outfits, "it's not the most original place I could've brought my wee one. I'm sure Batman will figure it out soon enough." Joker's words were laced with careless disgust. "But, all for the better! We have to hurry, though. I can't wait to introduce the new you to Mr. Tall, Dork, and Ugly, but I have to find the right look for you first! Heh!"

Jackie's eyes widened, and she barely tried anymore to keep her voice from shaking. "The…the new me?"

"Why of course, silly goose!" He whipped around, his chalk white face practically nose to nose with hers, his eyes and smile so wide they were almost unbearable to look at. "You're about to become my new side kick—my new accomplice!"


"His new accomplice?" Batgirl asked furiously. "That's what you think he wants her for?"

"Makes sense," Nightwing shrugged, after considering Batman's explanation. "Did you really expect him to just wanna give her a big ol' bear hug?"

"And I'm sure it's more than just making her act out a part," Batman stated gravely from where he still stood at the lab, leaning forward on the counter. "He'll want her to be completely on his side…if we don't get to him soon, he might try brainwashing her…using any method he possibly can."

Batgirl and Nightwing shivered simultaneously.

"But…." Batgirl started weakly. "But she is his daughter."

Batman turned sharply, his eyes narrowed in determination. "That doesn't matter now. Not to him, anyways." His voice was thick with bitterness. "To him, her being his daughter is just an added element to the joke." He stared them down. "We need to act fast, and now. I want you two on the Batcycles, and you'll take the sewer route. That'll lead you to the building's basement. Tim and I will take the Batmobile down the east side, which will get us there sooner. Unfortunately, with the Joker, we can never plan too much beforehand, because he never sticks to a predictable pattern. Particularly right now." He sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure just how much John Kerr still exists in him, if any at all. We have no way of knowing how far he'll go with Jackie. We already know he's willing to hurt her. That's enough for me. Any questions?"

While Batman talked, Nightwing suddenly frowned, and took a quick survey of the Batcave. "Uh, just a couple," he said, raising his hand.

"Yes?"

"You say you're going to take Tim in the batmobile, right?"

"Right."

"And Barbara and I are going to take the bikes, right?

"Right.

"Two tiny flaws there, big guy."

"And they are…?"

"Number one, Tim's missing. Number two, one of the bikes is missing."

Bruce's eyes widened beneath his cowl.


Robin's heart pounded as his Batcycle tore through the east side of town. Jackie. He had to get to Jackie before Joker could hurt her.

Seeing how deeply entrenched the trio had been in discussion, Tim wasn't surprised he had been able to get away with this. He'd had an easy time silently rolling the bike out of the cave's entrance, and sneaking out of the premises with his ride in tow.

While part of him still refused to accept the truth of Jackie's parentage, the other part was devoutly repeating Bruce's words to him: "Don't think of her any differently. She's still Jackie North, your tutor and your friend."

Jackie North. Jackie. Besides Alfred, the one person who was stable and sincere in his life, without some hidden agenda, whether it be for good or bad. The girl who laughed at him, teased him, and encouraged him. Jackie, who believed in him without even knowing he was a masked crusader.

Jackie. She was still Jackie.

He didn't have the luxury of waiting, as Batman and the others apparently did.

His bike squealed as he rounded a corner.


"Y'know, the timing for all this couldn't have worked out better," Joker continued, holding another circus-themed jumpsuit under Jackie's chin, his head tilted as he contemplated the combination. "I was just thinking of trading my dear little Harley Quinn in for a new model. She's been getting it in her head recently some mumbo-jumbo about self-worth and how demeaning abusive relationships are, and all that crap. I blame her relationship with the plant lady. If ya ask me, they're gettin' a li'l too Sapphic lately, if ya get my drift." He elbowed Jackie suggestively, and then patted her head condescendingly. "Which my little genius tutor should." He snickered in the back of his throat.

Jackie giggled nervously, unknowing how to act. "Ha, ha…yeah…. y'know, the term 'lesbian' actually comes from the Greek island of Lesbos where Sappho wrote most of her"-

"Ah-hah!" Joker cried triumphantly after a last rummage through another pile. "This should be perfect!"

"Gah!" Jackie recoiled. The Clown Prince held in his hands a purple trenchcoat like his, along with matching slacks and rainbow suspenders. He shoved them into her hands, along with a clown ruffle for her neck, a water-squirting corsage, and red and black fabric.

"It'll be a fun little art project, honey-cakes!" Joker announced ecstatically. "We'll cut little diamonds out of the fabric, and trim the coat and slacks, making them maybe a bit more sleek and feminine, eh?" He wagged a finger. "But nothin' too revealing, mind you! You're still my little girl, after all." His snickers turned sinister again, as he pinched her cheeks a little too roughly. She winced at the pure malice she saw in his red eyes.

He perked up again. "Ooh! While we're at it, baby, we should think of a new name for you, a new persona! Hmmm…." He tapped a faux-thoughtful finger at his chin, elbow in hand. "Let me think… 'Clown Girl' just ain't creative enough…and while 'Wacky Woman' is beautiful in an alliterative sense, it's still pretty lame… 'Harlequin' is too close to 'Harley Quinn' of course…but hey, maybe we could still do some sort of word play with your name! Let's see…Jackie…Jackie North…Jackie…Jackie…." He snapped his fingers, ecstatic again. "I've got it! Replace 'North' with 'Napier,' a former soubriquet of mine. Jackie Napier. Jackie Napes! Like jackanapes! Get it? Jackie Napes! HA HAHA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA!"

He turned to gauge his daughter's reaction. She wasn't there anymore, her costume in a heap at his feet.

Jackie leaped over a pile of berets as she ran, searching desperately for an exit. Thank God I ran track when I was in school! Her longing for survival and sanity prompted her to forget for the time being that her kidnapper was her father, and that his mad blood might run somewhere in her veins as well. She'd reconcile herself to that possibility later. Meanwhile, she had long ago stopped listening to the Joker's maddened ramblings, and out of sheer panic had done what she knew deep down was a pretty stupid idea: run for it. Still, this place was huge, and her lightning fast gait must have put quite a bit of distance between her and the clown….

Until she almost charged into him, and realized she had run in a circle around the warehouse.

The man she saw before her was not the goofy trickster she had left behind. This one loomed over her, his clownish face twisted in a brutal grimace, eyes glowing demonically. He growled, clenching his fists at his sides.

Primal fear beat in her heart, even as she panted to catch her breath. She tried her hand at an airy laugh. "Ha! Y'know, just cuz I'm a certified genius doesn't mean I have the best sense of direction, am I right?" Her weak smile faded as Joker roared again, and the back of his hand once more came down with a mighty whack against her cheek.

She flew backwards, luckily into a large pile of soft wool, most likely used for sheep costumes at Christmas pageants.

She had little time to recover before Joker grabbed her roughly by her upper arms, jerking her into a halfway sitting position before his hunched form.

His voice hissed through gritted teeth into her ear. "Now, let's get this straight, squirt. No more running out on me. Before we're done here, you're going to see the world the way I see it: as a sick, twisted perversion of a joke. And I'm in charge of the punchline. I don't care if I have to beat that into you, you will see Gotham and the rest of the world that way." He shook her and squeezed her arms until she yelped, which made him chuckle darkly. "So don't pull a stunt like that again, or I'll personally return to the Wayne household, kidnap your darling adoptive family, and torture them to death in front of you. Maybe then you'll realize that dear ol' Daddy is all you have in this wacky world." He threw her away from him, where she landed hard against her wool padding. Her bedraggled hair hid her tear-stained face as she stared at the ground, silent. "Any questions, young lady?" He turned his back to her, walking back to where her costume lay crumpled on the floor. All he heard from her was heavy breathing as she tried controlling her sobs.

He halted picking up the discarded items when she spoke in a hushed voice. She inquired expressionlessly yet clearly through her tears.

"What was she like?"


We're getting pretty close to the end here, folks. Well, don't quote me on that. I really love all the reviews and feedback I've been getting, but you know what I love even more? Even more reviews! Har-dee-har! Anyways, hope you liked. I kinda realize it's preposterous that a sequin could survive intact after being rolled around in a tire, but it's also preposterous to suppose falling into a bunch of chemical acid could turn you into a clown. So there! While I'm usually not a slash fan (I've got nothing against it, of course, just not something I find myself reading very often), I've become increasingly fond of the idea of a Harley/Ivy relationship. It's interesting, you have to admit. So I couldn't resist adding a little hint of that in here, heh. Oh, and I borrowed the idea of Joker's makeshift outfit for Jackie from what Duela Dent, "the Joker's daughter (Harlequin)," sometimes wears in the comics. Ain't I clevuh? **Cue the ominous chirping of crickets...**