Selina hadn't gone straight over to find Jay and Kala after her conversation with Cobblepot. For one thing, they were already out doing the vigilante thing by that hour. And after that, she wasn't sure if they'd be at his apartment, or the Manor, but given the way they'd behaved this week, she really didn't want to intrude on them. While deciding when would be the best time to visit, she remembered that Kala still had her emeralds; the night of the gala, no one had cared about jewelry.

So she stopped by his building in the morning – well, closer to noon, but she wasn't an early riser and neither were most of the Bats. Selina intended to head into the lobby and just buzz his apartment, but she glanced up out of habit and saw a window cracked open on the top floor. She'd cased this place for Babs back in spring, and had figured out which apartment was his, so Selina was intrigued to realize that was his window. Who in their right mind spent as much time, money, and effort on security as Jay did, and then left a window open? At the end of December, no less?

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so Selina broke into the building next door, crossed to Jay's roof while avoiding the tripwires, and climbed down over the edge, looking out for the loose bricks and pressure sensors. She made it to his window sill, noticing the thin tripwire strung across it; at least he wasn't totally slacking. But the sensors inside were disarmed, and Selina raised the window cautiously.

Jay lived in a studio apartment, one big room, and she could see most of it from her current vantage point. Not much to note, beyond the fact that the place was cleaner than it had been in spring. The only thing Selina was interested in was the bed, and the comforter that covered two forms. A flood of dark hair and one slender arm lay across the pillow nearest the window, and Selina grinned to realize Kala was soaking up whatever sunlight she could.

They really were awfully cute together. Selina smiled, and said cheerfully, "Good morning, kids, rise and shine!"

Or tried to. She got through 'morning' before the comforter was thrown back, and a sizzling noise broke the silence of the apartment.

…

Jay woke up to someone else's voice in his apartment. His reaction to that was immediate, ingrained, requiring no conscious thought. He flipped out of the bed on the side opposite the voice, drawing his gun and his knife. With that scant protection between him and the potential threat, he peeked over the top of the mattress. There was a strange sizzling noise in the room, but he discounted that for the moment.

"Mother of God!" the voice yelped, and he recognized it as Selina's. Why was Selina here, and how did she get in? Jay blinked, willing his brain to catch up.

The window was open. He'd cracked it last night, letting in a little cooler air; they'd gotten the whole place steamy last night. It was safe enough with the tripwire across the sill, and Kala in his bed. Speaking of Kala, at the sound of Selina's voice she'd leapt out of bed and was now hovering several feet above it, bristling. The sizzling noise, Jay realized, was her eyes.

Jay straightened up to see Kala hovering, her eyes red with incipient heat-vision, and Selina's fingers on the window sill. She must've dropped down when Kala turned the pilot lights on. Her voice was shaky as she said, "Good morning to you, too. Fuck."

Before Jay could say anything, Kala blinked, her eyes returning to their normal hazel shade. "Selina? What are you doing here? God, I'm sorry. I just didn't expect it to be you."

Selina peeked over the edge of the sill, and seeing that the heat-vision wasn't aimed at her any longer, she pulled herself up to rest on her elbows. Kala gave her a rather sheepish smile, shrugging lightly in apology. Selina recovered her composure to say, "Well, I dropped by to bring you some news. And also to get my jewelry, which we all forgot about after the gala. I wasn't expecting this reception."

Jay, of course, decided to point out the obvious, since no one else had mentioned it. "K, you realize you're naked?" he asked.

Just when you thought those eyes couldn't get any wider. With a yelp, the young Super dove for the bed and wrapped herself up in the comforter faster than the human eye could see. "Dammit, Red, you could've brought that up a little sooner!"

Selina just laughed, telling her, "You almost lasered me in the face. We'll call it even."

"To be fair, you, I didn't actually laser anything," Kala said, blushing.

"You've been with him too long, if you think about heat vision before clothes," Selina said. "Speaking of which, Mr. Todd, you seem to be a little under-dressed yourself."

Kala winced a little at that, realizing that herself, Selina looking more than a little amused. With not a single drop of his girl's self-consciousness, Jay set his gun and knife on the bed before reaching out to grab his boxers off the floor and slide them on. "You wanna come around to the door like a civilized person, and we can talk?"

"Why would I go all that way when I'm already in the window? I'll just stay for the show," Selina asked, smirking at them both.

Kala muttered something, only to disappear into the bathroom with super-speed. Jay sighed and stood up, grabbing a shirt. "Fine, watch the tripwire and get in here before someone calls the cops. Hell are you doing running roofs in plainclothes, anyway?"

"I didn't come out intending to run rooftops. I saw your window open and thought that was odd, for such a paranoiac. So I came to check it out." Selina eeled her way into the room without touching the crossed tripwires Jay had mounted in the window, and strolled over to Jay's chair to sit down. "I see why you're not worried about anyone breaking in. Must be nice, having your very own personal Super-guard."

"Yeah, it is," Jay laughed, tugging on the first pair of pants he saw. Given the way the room was laid out, he really only had one option for someplace to sit, and that was on the bed. He straightened the blankets a little first, and tucked his weaponry back under the pillow.

Kala came out of the bathroom then, wearing plainclothes she'd snatched up on the way in, and still blushing a little. It never failed to amuse Jay that she was still body-shy. "I put the jewelry in my uniform's belt pouch that night. I meant to give it back to you, but things have been a little crazy."

"Plus I lit out as soon as Joker was locked up. I'm not mad, Kala. If I was, I'd just steal something of yours," Selina said, and then Kala's phone was in her hand somehow. Jay hadn't even seen her reach out for the nightstand on her way past it.

Kala managed a chuckle at that, while Jay just held his hand out. Selina tossed him the phone while Kala checked her uniform. She heaved a sigh of relief at finding the emerald set, and handed them over to Selina gratefully. "I can't believe I left it in here! I don't use the belt storage that much, but damn."

"We were all distracted. If I'd known, I could've taken it off you during that impromptu flight, but I was a little more worried about not getting splattered," Selina said dryly. She gave Kala a wink, and added teasingly, "The free show makes up for the inconvenience."

"Stop," Kala groaned, but at least she was laughing.

Jay mock-scowled at Selina. "Knock it off, you poacher."

"Please, Jay, playing Ms. Steal-Your-Girl falls under my specialty, too," Selina taunted.

"Whatever, just keep your paws to yourself," Jay said, and Kala flicked him in the back of the head as she sat down beside him.

"She's not serious, you can stop the caveman act. Selina, you want some coffee or something?" Kala asked. Only then did Jay realize that was probably the normal thing to do, offer a guest refreshment. But Selina had barged in, so he didn't feel bad about not offering her a drink.

"I'm fine, thanks. And I did have an actual reason for being here," Selina said. The air of playful mischief dropped, and she looked at both of them somberly. "I had a meeting with Oswald yesterday."

"Is Penguin trying shit now, too?" Jay asked, thinking of all those shell accounts, and how quickly he could drain them if necessary.

"No, he's actually playing nice for once. Keep it quiet, I don't want to ruin his credibility with the rest of the rogues," Selina scolded. "Anyway, the whole point is that Harv is trying to take over Joker's throne as King of Crime."

Jay snorted at that. "Two-Face? Okay, he's got the resources and the brains, but the minute he needs to kill someone and that coin comes up on the clear side, he's toast. Everyone in town knows he's a slave to random chance."

"Which is what Oswald thought, too. Problem is, Oswald is smart. He's looking at the future of Gotham, post-Joker. And no, I didn't tell him our least-favorite jester is living on borrowed time; everybody is starting to realize Joker's lost his edge, since Harley beat him up." Selina pulled her feet up, sitting cross-legged in the chair, and tapped her nails against its arm. "The thing is, Harv is smart, too. He knows Joker's vulnerable, and he's planning to make a move. The single best way to do that would be to show up with Harley's head on a spike, but she's long gone."

"Good," Kala murmured. "I didn't even think of those risks; I'm glad she got away."

Selina nodded. "Well, here's where it comes back to bite us all in the butt. If Harley's not available, the second-best target in town is you, Mr. Todd."

"Fuck that," Jay scoffed, and Kala sat up sharply.

Selina looked deadly serious. "The phrase Oswald used was, 'He's Joker's nemesis.' You are, you know. He bragged for years about what he did to you, and here you are, bigger and stronger and meaner. You've damn near killed him a couple times, and you're not even crazy from what he did to you."

"That's debatable," Jay said, reeling a little on the inside. He thought of Joker as his nemesis, of course, but it had never once occurred to him that he might haunt the Clown the same way. Holy fuck, was this for real? "Also I thought Batman was Joker's nemesis. I don't wanna get into a hate triangle."

Selina shrugged, and wavered one hand back and forth like a seesaw. "Okay, you're a little crazy, but in this town, you're practically sane, compared to Harv and Johnny and Eddie and all the rest. Oswald thinks Joker's been going downhill since you came back, the second time. Joker would love to take you out or drive you nuts. And sure, Batman's his primary hate-on, but you're a very close second. He tried to take you out, and you're here flipping him off just by existing."

"That's why he's taking potshots at the Bats," Kala said. "He wants you, Jay. Whatever Two-Face would do to steal his spot, Joker would do to rescue his reputation."

"Exactly," Selina said. "I mean, killing off Batman himself would be the coup de grace, but half of them think he's some kind of immortal anyway. You showing back up from the dead didn't exactly hurt. So everyone's trying for Bruce, as usual, but they don't think they'll succeed. Harv and Joker both might think they have a shot at you, though."

"Bring it," Kala said coldly, and Jay felt a chill run down his spine. There was no sense in tempting fate, no matter how much he wanted to agree with her.

All he said was, "Yeah, they can try, but I'm not exactly easy prey."

"Especially not if you know they're gunning for you, which is why I'm here," Selina said. "And on to part two of the news: you aren't the only one they're considering killing off."

Jay nodded. "You, right? You helped Harley escape." He was expecting her to ask a favor, and he was not letting her and all the cats move in here again.

To his surprise, Selina gave a dry little laugh. "Of course. Everyone knows I helped Pam and Harley get out. No one knows quite how much, but hey, they'd think I helped even if I didn't. Might as well do the right thing if I'm gonna be damned for it anyway. More importantly, using my scalp for a battle-standard is almost as good as running around with Bruce's cowl. Everyone knows about me and him, so if they kill me, it's a mark against the Bat, too."

"No one's going to kill you, either," Kala said, low and serious. Jay realized again just how protective Kryptonians were; hell, she'd probably let Selina and all the cats move to her place in Metropolis, and wouldn't that be fun to explain?

"I'm not worried about me. Nine lives, and I've only used about two of them," Selina said easily. "What bothers me is your name is on the list, Kala. Oh, they don't know who or what you are, but killing a meta is a big deal. And everyone knows about you and Hood, same as they know about me and Batman. They'll take you out to score points on him."

He could feel her shoulders drawing back, and Jay knew that wasn't fear. Kala never shied back from a challenge. Instead, she spoke in measured tones he knew all too well. "Let them come. I am no trophy for these vermin to claim."

Selina tilted her head sideways, looking at Kala intently, and Jay put his hand on K's thigh, squeezing a little to remind the Empress that this wasn't a good time. He could feel the change in tension as she got control of it. At last Selina said, "Well, I have first-hand knowledge of how difficult it's going to be to get the drop on you, now. So I'm not as worried as I was yesterday."

Jay was. He'd started out not wanting Kala in Gotham, worked around to not wanting her dealing with the masks, and finally gotten to not wanting her mixed up in all of it unless she was trained to the same keenly-honed edge he was. He still didn't want her to go up against Joker. But this? Knowing there was a price on her head now – that all the rogues were basically thinking about killing him, her, or Selina to crown themselves the new ruler after Joker had been deposed, or in Joker's case to take back that title – made his stomach tie itself in knots.

The fact that her being with him had landed her in their sights only made it worse. It was one thing to make enemies in this town. To be targeted because of who you slept with? That was insulting, and also dangerous as hell. It meant she would get heat from everything he did. And Jay wasn't exactly all that good at not getting himself in trouble. Knowing everything he did could potentially increase Kala's risk, too … it made him nauseous.

She wasn't afraid, but of course she wasn't afraid. This was the girl who'd let Joker take her hostage because it seemed like the best distribution of resources. And nothing Jay told her could change the fact that she'd risk herself before a civilian. Sure, he'd thrown himself in the line of fire before, but Kala took impossible risks. That was just the nature of what she was: shiny solar-powered bullet-proof badass.

And yet, he'd had his hands on a huge case of kryptonite. He had a knife under his pillow that could cut her throat; if Joker had gotten hold of a blade like that the night of the masquerade, Kala might be dead now. There were palpable dangers right here in Gotham, and if anyone in this miserable town figured out what she was, the risk factor would skyrocket. Jay couldn't let that happen.

…

Kala wrestled control of her mind and voice back from the Empress, who had very definite ideas about how to handle anyone who threatened harm to someone she cared about. She liked Selina, but more importantly, Selina was part of Bruce's family, therefore part of Jay's family, and neither Kala nor the Empress would allow any of his kin to be harmed. They were all hers now, too.

"Thanks for the heads-up," Jay said, too casually. Kala knew when he was low-key freaking out, but he wouldn't let Selina see it.

"No problem," Selina said. "Now that you're properly warned, I'll see myself out. Oswald wanted me to pass this on to Bruce, too. Just so you're aware."

Kala scoffed. "If he tries to chase me out of town just because Two-Face has his knickers in a twist, Bruce can kiss my sweet Kryptonian ass – to borrow a phrase. I understand staying away when there's a shipment of kryptonite coming in, but these jerks don't even know who they're dealing with. I'm not going to run just because someone made a threat."

"Atta girl," Selina said, standing up. "Is the door booby-trapped, or should I use the window?"

"Of course the door is wired up. Don't go climbing the wall in broad daylight again, I'll let you out," Jay said, getting up.

Kala sighed and leaned back against the pillows, thinking. The way she reacted to an unexpected voice in the room was pretty telling. Good luck to Two-Face, if he'd tried a similar stunt. She wouldn't actually laser someone in the face, no matter what her initial instinctive response had been. Beating the snot out of them would suffice. Although, if there was any possibility of them being attacked while they slept, she might need to start sleeping in pajamas again. Flashing Selina was embarrassing enough; the various villains of Gotham did not need a free show.

Jay came back to the bed, frowning. "Yeah, I know," Kala said softly.

"It's not just that. Selina just said you got your mom's legs. I don't even wanna know why or how she knows that," he told her, trying for a smile.

"Oh God, I don't either," Kala groaned, reaching for his hand. He took it, and let her pull him down to the bed beside her.

"We have to be more careful," Jay said, tugging her closer. He ended up with Kala in his lap, his forehead pressed to hers, her long legs wrapped around his waist. "The thing is, as long as they think you're an Amazon, you should be safe. If they figure out you're Kryptonian … there's too much k floating around in the black market. We know some of them already have it. We can't let them catch a hint of what you really are."

"I know," she told him, cupping his face in her hands. His stubble tickled her palms. "I know, Jay. I'm sorry about that with the heat vision. I wasn't awake yet, I just read it as a threat and came up ready to fight."

"I know. I came up with the gun in one hand and the knife in the other, remember. And we both bounced out of bed buck naked, 'cause self-defense beats modesty." Jay sighed, and gave her a lopsided grin. "At least Selina got some entertainment out of it."

"Please don't keep reminding me. I'm embarrassed enough," Kala said.

"Yeah, well, if it'd been Joker, that would've been the last thing he saw. Great legs, great rack, red eyes? And then szzzzzzt," Jay tried to joke, making a noise like bacon in the pan. "Not that I mind the thought of him getting crisped, but I kinda hope the last thing he sees is gonna be my boot or my fist coming at his face."

"Someday soon, that will be the last thing he sees," Kala assured him, running her hands over his shoulders, down to his biceps, and squeezing affectionately. "Joker will get his just desserts."

"Yeah. Now we just worry about every other motherfucker in this town," Jay said, with a bitter laugh.

She sighed, pressing her forehead against his as if she could somehow transfer her certainty to him, right through skin and bone. "I'm not that worried. Forewarned is forearmed, right?"

"Don't make light of it," Jay warned. "This is serious, K. We can't let them figure you out. You need to be extra careful about the heat vision, especially. Almost no one else has that. If you pop up with more than speed, they're gonna wonder, but the heat vision will definitely send them all scrambling for kryptonite. Luthor will have a fucking buy-one-get-one sale, the smarmy fuck."

"We'll be careful," she tried to reassure him.

"You be careful," Jay scolded. "You need to watch your ass, majorly. It's all on you now, K, you've gotta keep it under wraps. Don't let them get a hint of what you are."

"I won't," she said, not liking his fraught tone.

Jay shuddered a little. "I don't wanna be the reason you get killed. I can't."

"You won't be," she insisted. "C'mon, Jay, there are so many other risks out there…"

"Yeah, but now people who wanna score points off me are aiming at you," he growled. "And I'd like to just put 'em all six feet under, but then I'd have to wait another five years and probably die and come back again before they'd invite me to Christmas. You know how shitty the Todd luck is, K, you saw my file. It's been one bullshit bad turn after another. I'm not gonna let that fall on you. I can't let that happen."

Kala thought she saw what the real problem was. Of course, being Jay, he wasn't able to say I can't lose you unless he'd just woken up from a nightmare. Too much emotional vulnerability. She tried to assuage that fear anyway. "No one is going to take me away from you, Jay. I pro–"

He moved quickly, covering her mouth. "Don't, K. Just … don't. It's not a promise anyone can make. Shit happens, and I happen to know fate takes stuff like that as a challenge. Just be careful, all right?"

"I will," Kala told him, and kissed him. "I'll be careful, Jay, and I'll watch out for both of us. Just like you will. They won't get either of us. And they won't get Selina, either."

"Selina's got nine lives and a big bad Bat behind her, she'll be fine. I'm worried about you. You're the one I've gotta keep an eye out for. Can't let that sweet Kryptonian ass take any damage," Jay said, but at least a trace of humor was showing again.

She smiled at him, slow and sweet, and kissed his brow before replying. "I'll be fine, too. I've got a trigger-happy asshole watching over me."

Jay managed to chuckle at that. "That's my favorite pet name, now. I really shoulda known what you were like, when that was how you reacted to being shot at."

"Oh, so now you admit you really were shooting at me?" Kala taunted, glad to lighten the mood.

"Not at you, I can aim," Jay retorted. "But in your general direction, yeah."

"I heard what I heard," Kala said archly. "Why am I sleeping with you again?"

Jay kissed her, and answered, "You want a demonstration?"

Kala squirmed away with a faux scowl. "Eww, why would I let you touch me? You finally admitted, after about seven months and god knows how many times I've slept with you, that you actually tried to shoot me the night we met, you enormous fucking troll!"

"Well, enormous, anyway," Jay teased, and she stopped struggling long enough to groan at the pun with a wrinkled nose, socking him in the shoulder lightly. That was time enough to pin her down, and kiss her again, and again. And again. And run his hand down her side possessively, tracing those delicious curves.

"Oh, yeah," Kala said in a breathy voice. Her expression was still a little annoyed, her eyes trying to glare at him even while he distracted her. "It's starting to come back to me a little. A tiny bit. Slowly. I think that's why I let you touch me."

"'Cause I'm so good at it?" Jay murmured, loving the way she sassed back, even in the middle of this.

"That's part of why," Kala admitted, and kissed him long and slow and simmering. Jay let himself dive into that kiss, and lose himself in her.

…

Arkham's cells were always just a tiny bit damp. Joker figured it added to the ambiance. In the sweltering days of high summer, it got hot and stuffy in the asylum, but the basement-level cells stayed cool and dank all year 'round. In winter, they were positively chilly. Joker remembered one inmate, denied blankets because they thought he'd hang himself with them, somehow managing to set fire to his foam mattress. The resulting fumes were toxic, but the poor bastard would've died of smoke inhalation anyway. A shame, really – the man had been within earshot of Joker's cell, and he'd had a delightful mix of buried rage and genuine remorse. The things he did during his psychotic breaks, he actually regretted afterward. Joker could've had weeks of fun toying with that fragile psyche.

Alas, there was no one else down in the belly of Arkham currently. They didn't like housing Joker near anyone else, as his ideas of entertainment tended to be fatal to his roomies.

Lack of diversion left him contemplating his own situation. Which was frankly boring, after the first day. The guards had taken the opportunity to vent their displeasure, as they usually did, cinching his cuffs far too tight and yanking him around as they took him to his cell. Pain didn't bother him; he didn't feel as keenly as he had before the acid. Besides, pain and injury always faded quickly.

For the first day, he waited, expecting Harley to get herself caught. He'd made it plain that he wouldn't stop until she answered to him, and he figured she'd come confront him before he killed one of her friends. Or she would strike out at his men, and good ol' Jonny Frost was waiting for her. Harley had a high resistance to many drugs, but Joker had left very careful instructions on how to sedate her – and once they had her, they could chain her up tight enough to hold her until he could get out, and take his sweet time.

Joker spent his first day back in Arkham thinking about his plans for Harley, which led to reminiscing about the way blood looked in the moonlight. Almost black, but with a rich gleam all its own. And the way it flowed, thicker than water. He went on a pleasant stroll through his own memories, many of which featured that glossy sheen.

All the way back to that night at the crossroads, under the pale light of a gibbous moon, blood on his knife and his hands, blood running down a woman's skin to mix with the dusty soil. Joker could remember every second of that night, the metallic smell of blood, the clatter of dry branches in the breeze, the fog rising from the damp ground, the distant howl of someone's dog, the faint scent of crushed grass where he'd pulled the car off onto the shoulder. He couldn't remember ever feeling so alive, the night wrapped around him close as a lover.

Maybe he ought to save that for the end of Harley. After he'd had his fun, after he'd made her pay for every injury and insult, maybe he'd take her to that same place and cut out her beating heart under the moonlight. It'd be a suitably romantic ending.

By the second day, he realized Harley wasn't coming. She hadn't made a move at all, and the news outlets were full of stories about the gala. He'd made sure one of his own men called in to several of them, claiming to have been at the party, and quoting Joker's line to Batman. It was repeated in the tabloids and on television. Harley had to have heard it…

But she hadn't struck out, or made her way here. He got a phone smuggled in – there were always guards who needed cash, and he had lots of it – and sent the boys looking for information. What they found out infuriated him.

What that girl at the gala said was true. Harley was gone. Word was just beginning to trickle through town, but apparently the bank she, the veggie, and the cat had robbed together had yielded enough cash for her to go on the run. Joker raged in his cell, pacing and knotting his hands into fists until his nails cut into his palms.

Never mind. It didn't matter. He'd find her, eventually. There was nowhere on this earth she could go that he couldn't follow. If he had to call in some favors, he would. Or maybe he just had to make a big enough scene that she came running back to deal with him. Carving the cat into pieces ought to do it. Or maybe finding that sister of hers. As far as Joker knew, they hadn't spoken in years, but people would do very strange things for family.

He had a bigger problem. As the other so-called rogues of Gotham realized he was in Arkham, and Harley was gone, he was losing face. Joker really didn't care what the lot of them thought about him. He served only himself, he wasn't interested in status among a bunch of half-crazed two-bit bad guys who were all so deep into their own schtick they didn't even realize what a joke it all was.

Still, if they disrespected him, it made things harder on the street. Getting things done was exponentially more difficult if people didn't clear out of his way. Joker had grown used to being feared, to getting what he wanted just by demanding it, and he'd shown them time and again that he was not to be trifled with. How quickly they all forgot.

His men were hesitant to report the rumors they were hearing, but it all boiled down to people thinking he was losing his edge. And that idiot Two-Face trying to take over his town. As if Harvey Dent could ever understand Gotham's rotten soul. He saw the world in black and white, good and evil, and he strove for the fairness of pure random chance. He didn't have a clue how Gotham's best and brightest depended on the shadow of 'evil' to make their light shine brighter. Or how the darkest parts of the city got that way because of how sharply the light shone elsewhere. He couldn't conceive of the beauty in ugliness or the disgusting nature of pleasantries. He was a philistine, locked in his own narrow dichotomy.

Worse was Black Mask. A mere thug, no artistry, no higher ambition, he just wanted power for the brute joy of having it. Oh, he pretended a degree of elegance and sophistication, but at the end of the day he was just another gangster with a few more daddy issues. And he was supposed to be released after New Year's.

Joker would need to deal with both of them, if he wanted to work unfettered and find his wayward Harley. He sighed in aggravation; Harley could wait. It would be best to make her think she'd gotten away, so she'd let down her guard. Then he could deal with her and the veggie at his leisure.

So, he needed to get out. And then he needed to remind everyone in Gotham why they went in fear of him. The cat could help with that, or the zombie bird, someone very dear to all the Bats in the Bristol belfry…

It was a wonder no one else had ever seen it. Batman strolled through Crime Alley openly on the anniversary of his parents' deaths, for crying out loud! Once you figured out who he was – and it was Jason Todd, well, Sheila Haywood really, who'd been the key that fully unlocked that knowledge – everything else fell into place all too easily. The sad tale of a billionaire orphan, the boys he adopted from similarly tragic backgrounds, there'd always been gossip about ulterior motives. Not much, though, because Brucie had the money and the lawyers to sue the pants off anyone caught in slander or libel, and besides, there'd never been a hint of impropriety in his behavior or his background. He had so damn many women it almost seemed like overcompensation, but no, that was all part of the game.

Once you knew about his real motive, well, that was a fine joke. Saving youngsters from danger, only to dress them up in bright primary colors and throw them into more danger. It was the kind of logic only a Bat could possibly reason his way into. Joker didn't mind, the Bird-boys were often more fun than Batsy himself. They all had so much to prove. Even the first had been trying to live up to Batman's ideal, and of course all the rest were trying to fill his pixie boots. Delicious irony. He'd even had a girl Robin, briefly, but Joker had never gotten to play with that one.

The Batgirls were mostly out of his reach; the second one was spooky, moving like a ninja, and she stayed out of his sphere of influence. The first one had been fun, and Joker had stumbled over her real identity. A shame, honestly – if he'd known she was Batgirl at the time, he would've done more than just shoot her. Ah well, missed opportunities. At least he'd left his mark, another scar on Batman's already tortured soul. Although she'd slipped away from him, too.

Not as blatantly as Dead Hood. That rankled, honestly. He should've been dead, and if he had lived, he should've been broken in body, mind, and soul. That he was up and running around and playing nice with his family, dating a meta and all, was an offense. The boy had been Joker's triumph, and he'd gone and undone all that hard work. For nothing, really. He was just another Robin now, one who hit a little harder and wore darker colors.

There was one loose end pestering him. The girl he'd grabbed at the gala. She was something else all right; she should've been dead, after he sliced her throat, but not a drop of blood had showed. And she was intriguing even before that. Far too interesting for the Waynes … but then, the Waynes were much more interesting than they pretended to be. He'd seen her face briefly, and examined his memory, trying to match it up to someone else.

No luck. A shame, really. It would've been fun to figure her out, to pry open that mind of hers. Something a lot darker than she seemed lived behind her eyes, and Joker wanted to call it out and let it go dancing across the rooftops of Gotham. He was good at awakening darkness. Everyone had a bit of monster in their heart; most people denied it strenuously, lying to each other and themselves. They feared that cold cruel splinter in their souls.

Joker had set his free, and fed it, until it became a grand and glorious thing. He'd tried to do the same with Harley, but she ultimately failed to embrace her transformation, and he needed to take back the gift he'd given her.

That girl … she wasn't just another socialite, if she was with the Waynes. Joker had spelled out the threat to them, they had to have known he would come to the gala, and one of them had been stupid enough to bring a date? No, that didn't scan, they didn't use innocents as cannon fodder.

She was someone. And he had the nagging feeling he knew her from somewhere. Tall, black hair, maybe…? No, not Troia, she was more delicately built than the Amazon. And the shape of her jaw was different. Besides, she didn't talk like an Amazon. She'd sassed him with a biting sarcasm they never used. But then, there was something about the way she'd spoken later, a handful of words in cold defiance…

Joker had been pacing while he puzzled it out, and realization slapped him across the face so sharply he skidded to a halt mid-stride. He'd told her she would be surprised. 'As would you,' she'd said, and her voice had changed on the words. Weird, almost Shakespearean phrasing, the tone so cold and final it had piqued his interest even in the middle of a hostage situation. There'd been too much going on at the time, but now, with nothing but stone walls and his own mind to occupy him, he was able to cross-match that tone and wording.

'You are unworthy to share the same air he breathes,' the Blur had said, stalking toward him. The exact same voice, the same homicidal chill on the words.

Joker was always smiling, but his grin broadened now, and he began to laugh to himself. The Blur was something more than mere speed. Strange name, stranger vigilante. And of course an Amazon might shrug off a knife to the neck; they were notoriously hard to wound. But he thought there might be something more to her.

He'd have to get hold of her to find out. And that might be the best way to remind all the slinking cowards in Gotham what it meant to fear nothing, not even death. There had to be some way around those fancy powers.

Joker knew he'd have to be careful. But he was looking forward to the challenge. Who knew, maybe he could break her mind the way he'd broken Harley's. Wouldn't that be the perfect way to show the zombie bird and all his batty friends how useless their promises of solidarity were?

You really screwed it up this time, Dead Hood, Joker thought, chortling. You brought your girlfriend out in plainclothes.

And you let me see her face.