I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Rated PG-13 : violence, language, sexuality, some mature concepts.
With thanks to my 'action scene beta', Rach aka The Fink.
Reviews are greatly appreciated.
He stood at the window, staring into the night, at the few stars that managed to be seen despite the lights of the city. The occasional stir of footsteps and murmur of voices from outside the room had almost disappeared in the past hours, as he stood vigil. The lights had dimmed long ago. In the quiet it seemed like forever he had been here, with only his own grief and guilt for company.
There was another soft sound from the bed. Batman turned to look, and saw a brief stir of movement, only a twitch of a hand, a slight turning of the head. Was it a good sign? He watched, and saw nothing more.
Turning to the window again, Batman closed his eyes, trying to empty his mind. But his self-discipline failed him; the memories continued to come. It had been a dark, cold night like this one when the next event in the chain that ended here had taken place. A dark night, only two days after the Joker's first robbery. The three of them, Nightwing, Batwoman, and himself, had decided to split up and patrol the city, in hopes that one of them would be close if he struck again...
The Batmobile glided down almost empty streets, only an occasional pedestrian giving it a quick glance and, often, scurrying for the nearest hiding place. The kind of people who tended to be out at this time of night were not the kind who found the Batman's presence reassuring. Luckily for them, he was after bigger game tonight.
His gloved hand reached out to touch the radio communicator's controls. It took only a moment for the light indicating a successful connection to come on. "Anything yet?" he asked.
"Nope," Nightwing's voice answered. "Just the usual night life."
"Keep monitoring the police bands."
"I know. I am."
"And don't-"
"Don't go after the Joker alone. He's dangerous. I know." Nightwing's voice was impatient and dismissive.
"I mean it. Contact me if anything happens."
"Will do." At least the kid sounded serious this time.
Batman broke contact and switched to another channel. This time Batwoman's voice answered his question of, "Anything?"
"No. I'm getting bored. And it's cold on this 'cycle. And I'm hungry."
"Anytime you want to go home, just let me know."
"Are you kidding? If the two of you can take it, so can I."
"Glad to hear it." He let a trace of warmth enter his voice. "I guess I already told you to be careful."
"At least five times. But I appreciate the thought."
"Okay. Stay in touch." He disconnected again.
A soft murmur of voices from the police bands accompanied him as he continued on his way, watching the streets become brighter and more busy as he began to work his way downtown. The Batmobile also began to attract more curious stares and pointing fingers. He didn't like being conspicuous like this, much preferred shadows and rooftops, but there was no help for it. Batman surveyed the sideways and the storefronts lining them. This was the kind of neighborhood the Joker would find tempting: upscale department stores, jewelry stores, boutiques, electronics. Crowds of wealthy shoppers during the day, cash and valuables at night.
And more of both at this time of year. The windows were lavishly decorated and garishly lit, glittering with elaborate Christmas displays. Idly he wondered how much money was invested in each of them - and how good the security precautions were. That was when his ear picked out one voice from the chatter coming over the police radio.
"Alarm at 43rd and Fifth - Spangler Electronics. Possible break-in."
A big, rich, conspicuous target, typical of the Joker. Batman remembered passing it only minutes ago, and noticing the mechanically animated figure of Santa Claus in the window. It was only a few blocks back. He pulled into a fast turn and accelerated.
The first thing he saw was a shattered window, the wreckage of what had once been a carefully planned display of merchandise, a few larger items still there along with a mass of red and green ornaments, some of which had been thrown to the floor. They would have taken the smaller, more valuable stuff: laptops, PDAs, digital cameras... Strangely, they had also taken the mechanical Santa Claus.
The alarm had gone off only minutes ago. Had he just missed them? Or were they still here, inside? Only a glance located the door, the protective gates with their bars cut through, the locks broken. They hadn't been subtle about it, another thing that was typical of the Joker.
The police would be there in minutes. Batman paused long enough to contact his partners, then without waiting for a response he was out of the car. Something in the ruined window caught his eye and he stopped for a moment, leaning close enough to recognize one of the Joker's calling cards. He stared at it for only a moment before sliding silently through the partially open door.
Inside, darkness greeted him. Batman could feel his nerves sharpen, his mind quicken. There was a sound - the faint echo of a voice, the clatter of something falling, a footstep. And then another sound that sent a shiver down his spine: a hollow, humorless laugh. He recognized it instantly.
No movement, no sign of danger as he moved deeper inside through a landscape of shelves stacked with computers, printers, and their associated supplies. The voices grew louder as he entered a land of televisions, silent now, their screen darkened, flanked by VCRs and DVD players. Then telephones, a few boxes thrown to the floor. Stereo equipment, speakers looming out of the shadows, receivers in neat stacks.
The sounds had faded... he heard a click, like a door opening or closing... hurried toward it, hesitated between the Nintendos and the GameBoys, and heard that laugh again. Too close, much too close - he melted into the shadows, backing off, circling behind.
"Looking for something, Batman?"
The voice was as filled with confident malice as he remembered. Batman crouched. Cautiously, he peered around a display shelf.
"Or should I say someone?"
That arrogant clown would keep talking, and lead the way right to him... Batman stayed low as he followed the voice, taking advantage of the cover of the displays around him.
"I didn't want you to be disappointed, so I stayed. Just for you. Don't you feel special?"
Batman frowned. There was no mistaking the implied threat. He slowed, scanning his surroundings for any sign of a trap.
"Aren't you going to come out and play, Batman? I'm getting lonely!"
The voice was near. Batman could hear footsteps; the Joker was making no effort to hide. They sounded across the floor, echoing oddly under the high ceiling, impossible to tell exactly where he was with all the shelving and other objects. If it was hard for him, it would be hard for the Joker, too. Might as well distract him.
"This isn't a game, Joker, and I'm not laughing."
"As always, you have no sense of humor. I suppose I'll be going..."
Was that a shadow moving, or the tall, thin figure of a man? Batman hurried, for a moment forgetting caution; if he could catch the Joker here, away from his men, maybe he could end this right now with no one getting hurt. There was more movement as he entered a back room filled with boxes, then a moment of dim light: a door opening, that same tall form framed in it before it disappeared.
With a muttered "Damn!" Batman ran after him, throwing himself into a roll as he dived through the doorway. The precaution was unnecessary, all he saw as he came back to his feet was the Joker running down the alleyway, away from the street. He charged into pursuit.
There was another laugh, holding a note of wild excitement, as the Joker reached a fire escape. The ladder had already been extended to the ground, and he began to climb. A part of Batman's mind realized that the ladder had probably been left that way, that all this had been planned, but he didn't slow down.
As he climbed, the Joker reached the rooftop and turned back. A flash of light reflected off something in his hand... Batman swung himself to the other side of the ladder just in time, as a shot rang out. More laughter, and he saw his quarry running again.
Another shot as he reached the roof, but he was prepared and ducked down to let it fly over him. The Joker had reached the edge of the roof, and without breaking stride stepped up on the low edge wall and leaped across to the next building. Batman raced after him, catching a glimpse of the bottom of another alley beneath him as he sailed over the gap to the next roof. The chase continued, another building, another dangerous leap at full speed with the thin, cold winter air whistling past his ears, another jolting but safe landing. Up here, the city lights and sidewalks left behind, it seemed almost like another world, one which contained only himself and the bizarre figure he was pursuing.
He could hear sirens behind them. The police, arriving at the electronics store, probably with Batwoman and Nightwing right behind. They wouldn't catch up, not in time to make any difference.
The Joker had stopped, and turned. Batman caught a glimpse of dead-white skin, green hair, and red lips in the moonlight as he ducked behind a service shed. There was a lot of equipment on this rooftop: another shed, a set of pipes large enough to hide a man in the darkness. He began to work his way closer.
"So, you do want to play. I'm so pleased."
He hadn't had a chance to reload, must be only a few more bullets in that gun, worth taking a chance on making him waste them. "This isn't a game, Joker," Batman called back.
"Life's a game, Batman. You just fail to see the humor."
"Nothing funny in hurting people. Stealing from them."
"Pfftt. People. Less than nothing to you or me."
"Speak for yourself." He moved as silently as he could, using a pipe for cover.
"Oh, come now." The Joker's voice dripped with scorn. "Don't tell me those milling masses of cretins below actually mean anything to you."
"All right, I won't tell you."
"You and I are as far above them as - as eagles above the pigeons scrounging for breadcrumbs on the street."
"Eagles. Right." Batman slid behind the second shed, only a few yards away from his target.
"That's why I value you so highly, Batman. You're not quite my equal, but close. Our little contests are one of the few challenges in my life. I'll almost regret it when inevitably they reach an end."
"When's that going to be?"
"When I kill you, of course. Perhaps even tonight. Too bad, you and I are so much alike - both brilliant, both dedicated. Both so good at what we do. Both violent. We're two sides of the same coin..."
Batman frowned. The Joker had said the same thing before, more than once, and it never failed to anger him as it was doing now. Which was probably why the Joker kept saying it. Why he was saying it now, to make Batman act recklessly... He took a deep breath and concentrated on the task at hand, getting closer without being seen. Time to stop talking, and to slide around the other side of the shed, behind another pipe.
"Batman? Still there?" The Joker laughed softly and mockingly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..."
He was as close as he was going to get, and the Joker had his back turned... Batman sprang to his feet, vaulted over the pipe, and hit the rooftop running, already gathering himself for a tackle. He saw a grin as his opponent whirled, a triumphant tilt in it, and realized this must be a setup, somehow; it was a trap...
A spray of liquid droplets hit the exposed part of his face, stinging, bringing with them a thick, choking, bitter smell. He gagged, and began to cough, eyes tearing. But he didn't stop. Still at full speed, he barreled into the Joker, bringing them both down with a jarring impact. They rolled, struggling, but he was still coughing, almost unable to breathe, his vision blurred.
The Joker was struggling to his feet... landing a vicious kick on Batman's chest, knocking him back down. But he was up again in a heartbeat, ignoring pain and lack of oxygen as he grabbed the green-haired man from behind, yanked him around, and drove a fist into that hideous, grinning face. The Joker reeled back, staggered, his back hit the guard wall around the roof...
"Watch out!" Batman shouted. But it was too late; he caught a glimpse of another triumphant grin, a snatch of mocking laughter, as the Joker rolled over the wall and dropped from view. A few steps took him to the edge - he leaned over - it took a few seconds for his eyes to clear enough to see anything in the darkness below.
There was something down there, a large square mass, lighter than the alley floor, undulating with a slightly billowing motion. Something - someone - scrambled off it, and slid to the ground. Cushioning, he realized, padding, the kind of thing stuntmen used for a fall. A white face raised to look up at him... that laugh again, rising in the cold air. Cursing, Batman shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his vision, braced a hand on the roof wall, and started to climb over, peering down...
"No! Batman, stop!" The shout had hardly penetrated his consciousness when two pairs of hands were grabbing him, pulling him back. Nightwing and Batwoman.
But he had already seen it: the padding below was deflating, flattening out, a large rip in the upper surface gaping at him like an empty grin. The Joker must have cut it as he climbed off. Batman grabbed for a line from his belt and fastened the small grappling hook attached to it to the roof wall. Batwoman and Nightwing were already over the edge, sliding down their own lines with the grace and speed of the trained acrobats they were.
Batman dropped to the ground only a moment after them. All three headed in the direction the Joker had fled at a run, rounding a corner only to see a car pulling away from the curb, a quick flash of a clown face grinning back at them, leaving a trail of laughter.
"Damn it..." Batman muttered, fists clenching. "I should have had him."
"It was all a trap," Nightwing said reasonably. "Look, he had minicams set up. He could see exactly what you were doing."
They were back on the roof where the Joker had confronted him and then made his bold leap to freedom. Batman had almost recovered from the encounter, left with only stinging eyes, a sore throat, aching knuckles - and his bruised pride. He looked up as Batwoman pointed out a small round object mounted on a service shed wall.
"He must have had a wireless handheld or something to display the image," she said.
"So when I made my move, he was ready."
"With some kind of teargas, I guess," Nightwing said.
"Yeah, sprayed from a lapel flower. He loves that kind of gimmick. And he had that air mattress ready for a quick getaway."
"And as a trap for you. He must have hoped you'd jump after him."
"No, too easy. He didn't seriously think I'd fall for it." Batman turned away and looked back in the direction of the electronics store. "How'd you find me?"
"We got here at the same time, just before the police. Heard gunshots from the roof, and figured the action had moved up here."
"I see. Well, might as well head back. See if the cops found anything."
But Batwoman blocked his way, arms crossed and head tilted, face set in a disapproving expression. "The Joker is very dangerous. Don't try to go up against him alone," she said in a poor imitation of himself.
"Doesn't apply to me."
"Why's that?"
"I know the Joker. Know his tricks. I'm prepared to deal with him."
He half expected her to make some sarcastic remark about how well he had dealt with his green-haired opponent tonight, but she only smiled. "You're not Superman, you know," she said softly.
"I'm very well aware of that."
"Could have fooled me..." The quiet mutter came from Nightwing. He grinned up at Batman. Batwoman ineffectively hid a laugh behind her hand.
Batman crossed to the bed and looked down. He watched, looking for any sign of improvement, and saw only the same harsh breathing, a restless movement of closed eyes, an expression that seemed to broadcast pain and fear even in unconsciousness.
Very different from the way they had looked that night... Both smiling at him, both so full of vitality; the way Kathy's eyes had sparkled behind her mask, the way Dick had grinned. All gone now, except for the pale, strained face of the patient fighting for life in this bed, and the memory of that other face which would never smile again.
TBC...