CRASH!

Bruce wasn't sure what Jacky had just broken; he hoped faintly that it wasn't anything expensive, not that he really cared at the moment. The look of worry on Vicky Wayne's face intensified at the sound of her daughter's temper tantrum.

"What happened?" She asked, sounding demanding.

He didn't have time for this. He should've been down town already. He began moving towards the door, antsy.

"Let..me..OUT!" He heard Jacky screach. "I'll KILL her! Or the clown! You can't just keep me here! UNCLE BRUCE!"

"I'm sorry," he found himself apologizing to Vicky, hoping she wouldn't ask any questions, "I have to go. Jacky can't leave. It's not safe; I don't think he picked Joe by accident. Promise me neither of you will go anywhere."

She nodded mutely. She was giving him an odd look, probably just trying to sort through all that was going on really, but he didn't dwell on it, turning to walk out of her room and down the hall way.

He slipped quietly by Jacky's room, hoping she wouldn't notice him. He saw her throw something else out of the corner of his eye, something that looked suspiciously like a large round hairbrush, heard it land in the hallway where he'd been seconds earlier.

"Where are you going?" She was out in the hall way now. That was quick. He kept moving, ignoring her. "You said it isn't safe, so why are you leaving?"

He felt as if Batman had already taken over as he responded.

"Because I'm not a hormonal teenager throwing a tantrum."

She didn't respond to that, but he could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head as he walked away.

Jacky glared at her Uncle as he walked away. He looked kind of determined, as if his mind was elsewhere, but she was still too upset to think about it.

"Jacky?" She heard her mother call her from down the hall way.

She thought about locking herself in her bedroom, but then thought better of it because it wasn't like that would make her mother go away. So instead she walked down the stairs and into the living room, flipping on the large tv and plopping down onto the couch with a huff, flipping through the channels until she found a news station brave enough to get close to whatever was going on in downtown Gotham.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when an image of the Joker popped up, laughing at the news reporters from the doorway of the police station before slamming it shut.

It took several deep breaths, a conscious effort to start regaining some control of herself, before the irrational fear began to subside, a long with (finally) the anger from earlier.

"Jacky?" Her mom called her again, walking into the room cautiously. "Are you ok?"

"No." Jacky replied simply, staring at the screen in front of her.

"Oh. Ok." Her mom replied, also simply, sitting down next to her. "Want to tell me why, or do I have to start guessing?"

"Uhm, you do realize that Uncle Joe's in danger right? Like big time, could-be-killed-any-minute danger." Jacky's voice came out sounding much calmer than she felt.

"Yes, I know that, but that's not the only thing that's bothering you, and since we can't do anything about Joe right now, I think we should try fixing something that we do have control over. So, tell me, what else has happened."

Jacky's shoulder slumped as she thought about Matt and then she was telling her mother everything, about the older firebrand at her party and about how she'd seen Matt kissing said older woman and about how she'd thrown a knife and Matt had looked afraid of her.

"I can't believe I was so mean, I mean maybe I should've let him say something, maybe there is a good reason, maybe… maybe…" She trailed off as she glanced at the screen, listening to what the news reporter was saying.

The Batman had finally made an appearance at whatever old warehouse the Joker was keeping her Uncle Joe in. She glanced at the time stamp on the flashing news title at the bottom of the screen.

Huh. Her Uncle had left almost exactly twenty-five minutes earlier. It took about fifteen to get to that part of town from his penthouse…

A strange idea began to wiggle its way into her mind, an idea involving a large figure, about her uncle's height if she thought about it, clad in black, with oddly familiar blue eyes.

Fifteen minutes and perhaps another ten if one stopped just long enough to…

"Jacky?" Her mother frowned at her daughter before glancing at the screen. "Oh! Good! Batman's there! I don't care what the media tries to say about him, I'd trust him to get your Uncle out of there more than I would the police. I mean, I swear…" She started rambling on about how unfair she was sure the media was being to him. Typical of her mother; thinking and talking about anything but the most recent trouble they had to deal with.

Jacky stared blankly at the screen as her mother talked away. The way her Uncle had dragged her out of the club earlier; he'd seemed so antsy throughout the car ride back; and then the way he'd snapped at her as he rushed back out of the house.

Why would he leave at all if something like this was happening?

"Miss Jacky?"

Jacky jumped when Alfred spoke, sounding so close.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You've been staring off for a while now, I just wondered if you heard what they just said." He pointed towards the screen.

"Oh! No, I didn't." She responded tensely, then turned towards the screen.

"Apparently , whatever's happening, its been taken somewhere else." He didn't have to elaborate for her to know that he was talking about Batman and the Joker and whatever trouble they were causing eachother. "The GCPD are closing in on the warehouse now."

She hoped that meant her Uncle was alright.

"Where exactly did Uncle Bruce go?" She turned to look up at Alfred, her thoughts snapping back to what she had been on the verge of discovering earlier.

He looked a little startled for a moment, but his expression changed only a very little, and she supposed it was probably just because it was such an out of the blue question.

"He had another affair to go to, far out of town. I'm sure he's fine, if that's what you're wondering."

Affair meaning another party of some kind.

She scowled, her German-Irish blood starting to simmer for what seemed the millionth time that night. Of course her spoiled Uncle would leave them in a crisis to go to some party. It was an interesting idea, her Uncle being some kind of big hero, but she'd been around her uncle enough by now that she supposed she should've known better.

After all, everyone knew Bruce Wayne was just a spoiled party boy. Why should she have thought (and maybe even, secretly, hoped for a breif moment there,) that he could be anything different.

Joe knew he was a dead man the minute he opened his eyes and saw the Joker standing in front of him with a video camera.

Few people made it out of situations like this when the Joker was involved.

He was afraid, terrified, more so than he'd ever been before, but he didn't want to give the Clown the satisfaction of knowing that. So he stared forward and tried not to shake too much and didn't respond to whatever questions the Joker was asking, even when his silence earned him a kick in the gut.

"Well, you're not much fun at all." The Clown said, pulling a knife out of his pocket, and even though Joe had been expecting him to do this eventually it still made him shake all the harder as he felt a bead of sweat role down his cheek.

"Why-why so serious, hm? Come one, everyone will be watching. Gotta give them something good to talk about."

The knife was pressed to his lips now and Joe was shaking so bad he was afraid that he might get cut by accident, but he just couldn't help it.

Twenty odd years as a cop and this was easily the most frightened he'd ever been in his life.

"P-please." He managed to squeak, a pathetic noise even to his ears, and he closed his eyes as he was sure he felt tears building up. Tears. That was the last thing anyone would see of him; Joe Moretti shaking like a leaf and crying like a baby. "P-please, don't…"

The last thing Vicky and Jacky would see.

"P-please, P-please, p-p-pleeease don't." The Joker mocked with his creepy little chuckle.

A tear rolled down Joe's cheek.

"Ah ta-ta-ta-ta, none of that. I think it's about time we put a nice little sssmile on that face."

And…

And then it was over before it really began as the Batman's low rasp of a voice echoed throughout the empty metal warehouse.

"Let him be, Joker."

Four simple words, but it got the Clowns attention. He took the knife away and stood up while spinning around in one movement and Joe let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

The warehouse was poorly lit; Joe couldn't see more than 2 feet in front of him, so he couldn't be sure of what happened next, not exactly. He could guess, though, as he could hear some kind of scuffle going on in the darkness and a sound like someone running into something metal before he heard a loud groan and the Batman slid backwards, stopping right in front of Joe.

A large metal pipe was thrown after him, apparently what the Joker had hit Batman with, and then the Clown's footsteps could be heard, running in the opposite direction from where Joe could vaguely remember hearing him enter earlier.

He was getting away.

The Batman stood and glanced in the direction the Joker had gone as though tempted to go after him before turning to Joe.

"Forget me, go get him. Now!" He met the Bat's eyes with a steady gaze, frightened though he was.

The large, dark figure nodded once before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

"The police are coming." He yelled back, probably just before he left the building.

Joe let out a sigh, daring to feel relieved as he could hear them moving outside now.

And then, as though on some sort of timer, the lights in the rest of the warehouse clicked on.

And Joe was sure he would cry again.

The perimeter of the warehouse was lined with large oil drums, all wired to eachother, all connected to the one closest to Joe. His eyes widened as he saw a timer on the detonator; a timer now counting down from 20.

They were strategically placed; even the Batman had been oblivious to them in the short time he'd been in the building.

Joe could hear the police trying to open the door on one end of the warehouse. He screamed at the top of his lungs, his voicing booming with a confidence he didn't feel as he tried to warn his would be rescuers.

"N-no, don't, get away, it's going to…"

And then the timer hit zero.