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.
Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Batman woke with a start, pulling himself out of a half-sleeping haze filled with mocking laughter, dark faceless shapes, and the distant sound of gunfire sending a pang of unreasoning terror through his heart. For a few seconds he blinked in confusion, unsure of where he was.
But it all came back. He struggled against it, but he knew it was real; it had happened, and all the wishing in the world could not erase that terrible reality.
A look at the bed showed no change that he could see. Batman turned his eyes to the window next, to see a faint gleam of moonlight. The background sounds of the hospital were gone now, the patients asleep, the night shift going silently about their business. The dead of night...
In the quiet, he leaned back into his chair again and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and get some rest. But as he sank toward the surface of dreams again, the images that had burned themselves into his mind began to replay...He grimaced, and tried to go back further, to remember how happy they had all been, how they had talked and laughed... only hours ago... but it seemed to have happened in another lifetime...
"Would anyone care for an after-dinner eggnog?" Alfred's eyes gleamed with enjoyment despite his austere British façade as he stood in the living room doorway. Bruce restrained a smile. Alfred loved presiding over what he annoyingly referred to as their 'family' events. After being greeted with an assenting chorus, the butler continued, "With or without holiday cheer?"
"Without," Barbara said. "I'm driving."
"Me too," came from Dick.
"And me," Kathy added with a twinkle at Bruce that somehow made it a question.
"I'll make it unanimous," he said. It was a party, true, but better to skip the rum. Some instinct told him he might need a clear head, and he couldn't forget the Joker was still out there free, somewhere. He'd probably consider it a fine joke to strike again on Christmas Eve.
And somehow that was where the conversation headed, when Barbara brought the topic up. "I hope Dad remembers it's Christmas tomorrow," she said, frowning a little. "What with the Joker, he's hardly been home."
"Yes," Bruce murmured. "That's what makes him such a good police commissioner."
Barbara offered him a faint smile. "True. But it's rough on him. He's not that young anymore. Should be starting to take it easy." Her eyes clouded. "The stress is starting to get to him... his heart..."
"Is he having health problems?" They all looked at her, alarmed.
"Well... a little high blood pressure. Not enough exercise. That kind of thing." She gave them an uneasy glance.
"Just like Jim, to take care of the city and not of himself," Kathy said. "You should have a talk with him, Bruce."
"Me? Why me?"
"No - I shouldn't have said anything," Barbara protested. "It's nothing, really." She smiled. "Anyway, I made him promise to get home at a reasonable time tonight. If nothing happens with the Joker, anyway."
"Then let's hope it doesn't," Dick said, leaning a little closer to her on the sofa and taking her hand.
Kathy pulled her jeans-clad legs up and curled into the armchair she was sitting in. "I wonder what the Joker's story is, anyway," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, he's obviously crazy. I wonder what happened to make him that way."
Both she and Dick looked at Bruce. "Nobody really knows," he answered. "Right, Barbara?"
"Right. Even the times he's been in jail and in Arkham, he's never said anything about his past. Dad said it's like he just appeared out of nowhere a few years ago." She frowned again. "And it's like he's just - evil. No explanation for it, no reason. Just pure evil, like he's some kind of - of monster or something, almost not human..." She blinked. "Of course that's not true, but..."
"I'm not so sure," Bruce muttered. "Evil exists; I've seen it. And if anyone's a monster, the Joker is."
Dick's voice broke the moments of silence that followed. "Just the way he looks... I wonder if that has something to do with it, if something happened to him that drove him crazy, like Two-Face."
Bruce kept quiet, letting Barbara answer again. "He's been examined when he was in custody," she said. "No evidence of scarring, just that bizarre coloring. It's not makeup or hair dye. They thought it might be some kind of poisoning; he's got high levels of some unusual chemicals, but he's not sick, not physically anyway. The doctors say he's insane, of course, and whatever caused his appearance might have caused that too."
"So he gets a ride to Arkham, instead of to death row," Bruce said, with more bitterness in his voice than he had intended.
"You think he should be executed? Even if something's made him the way he is, through no fault of his own?" Kathy asked.
"He'll never reform. He'll always be a killer. Even if something 'made' him that way, is it any different from what makes anyone a criminal? No, he should take responsibility for his actions the same way everyone else has to. If the system can't keep him behind bars, can't guarantee he won't get out - you can't say the world wouldn't be better off without him."
"Well, that's true," Dick said. "But still, I don't like the idea of the death penalty. Sometimes there's mistakes, and innocent people are executed, and by the time the truth is found out it's too late for them."
"That's pretty rare," Bruce said.
"How do you know, for sure? Besides, isn't it better to keep them all in jail rather than execute one innocent person?"
"I don't think the death penalty is wrong in principle," Barbara said. "I think it's appropriate in some cases. What bothers me about it is that it's not applied fairly. If you're poor, if you're a minority, if you don't have a good lawyer..." She shrugged.
"I don't like it at all," Kathy said. "The idea of officially killing people is just - kind of repulsive to me. But... in the Joker's case, with someone who's that dangerous, and there's no question of his guilt... I just don't know."
"Well, he's got his insanity defense to hide behind," Dick commented. "So I guess it won't happen to him anyway."
"Insanity." Bruce's eyes narrowed. "He's smart. Clever. Completely rational. Able to plan his crimes out and get away from the police. I wouldn't call him insane."
"Wouldn't you?" Kathy asked. "What he's doing is certainly crazy, even if he does it in a sane way."
"Crazy?" Alfred's voice came from the doorway, as he entered with a tray carrying their drinks. "Anyone I am acquainted with?"
"We're talking about the Joker," Dick told him. "Whether or not he's really insane. What do you think?"
"Ah. I would say that it hardly matters. The Joker is a thief and a murderer, and must be treated as such."
"Very wise," Bruce said.
"Naturally, sir. I also have a theory on where he may strike next."
"Really?" Barbara was laughing up at him. "I didn't know you're so interested in crime."
"I wasn't always a butler, you know, Miss. After I gave up the London stage, I considered a career as a detective. I still like to match my wits against those of the various criminals of Gotham City."
"So - where do you think the Joker will show up? And when?" Dick asked.
"As for when, I doubt he will be able to resist committing a crime either tonight, on Christmas Eve, or tomorrow. Where - he has always had a liking for jewelry, and recently has stolen from two prominent downtown stores."
"So you think it'll be one of the big jewelry stores."
"Daddy's mentioned that," Barbara said. "He's increased coverage of the diamond district."
"Like that place that's got the emerald Christmas tree," Bruce said thoughtfully. "You know, the window display with the tree made with real gemstones, with diamonds and rubies for ornaments."
"Christal's. That would be a pretty tempting target for the Joker," Kathy commented, her eyes sharp with interest.
"I don't know. He robbed a toy store and an electronics store so far," Dick said. "Both places where people do Christmas shopping. I think his next target's going to be another place like that, maybe one of the big department stores."
"You could be right. Maybe he's tired of jewelry."
Barbara grinned at all of them. "Looks like I'm surrounded by amateur detectives," she said.
"No." Bruce put a casual smile on his face. "I think we're all glad to leave the police work to your father."
"Speaking of whom, I'd better get going. Make sure he really comes home tonight, and gets some rest." She stood up. "Thanks for dinner, Bruce. It was great. Nice seeing you again, Kathy."
Dick was up too. "I'll walk you out." After a few more goodnights, they headed for the front door.
Kathy sat back, finished her eggnog, and watched Bruce with a faint smile on her lips as Alfred busied himself with clearing away the empty glasses and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
"What?" Bruce finally asked with a raised brow.
"Mmm. Just thinking." Her smile grew. "This was nice. Dinner with friends. Kind of - comfortable and homey. Like family."
"Yeah, I guess." He straightened in his chair, vaguely uneasy. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to make it an early night. Sorry."
"Don't be. I was about to go anyway." She came to her feet. "Suddenly I have the strange urge to check out the stores downtown. Don't suppose you'd be interested?"
"Maybe some other time." Bruce paused. He hadn't missed the gleam in her eye, or the hint of disappointment in her expression at his answer. She knows, he told himself. She knows; it's obvious that she does. She's just waiting for me to say it. Why not just admit it? Why not indeed? They were alike, the two of them, almost as much as Dick and himself. Why couldn't he take this step, why couldn't he be honest with her? She could certainly be trusted, and it could make things so much better; for him and Kathy, for Batman and Batwoman.
"Kathy..." he found himself saying. He got up and faced her, taking her hands. "Look, I guess we need to talk."
"What about?"
He smiled at her wary expression. "It's time I told you something. I think you might like what I have to say."
"Talking could be good." She stepped closer, leaning her body against him, her face lifted.
He kissed her, just a gentle pressure at first, then deeper as his arms went around her and her lips parted under his. Her eyes were glowing with a soft, warming light when he raised his head to look at her again. "We'll be busy tonight... How about tomorrow?" he asked. "Dinner. Just you and me. We can talk about - things."
"Things. I can't wait." She grinned and stretched up to press a quick kiss on his mouth. "Maybe I'll see even see you later."
"Maybe." He matched her smile and held onto her fingers as she stepped back, chuckling as they finally let their hands slip apart.
By the time Dick returned his smile was gone, his mind turning to the night's business. He glanced up at his partner's expectant look. "Kathy's going out tonight," he said. "Probably the big stores downtown."
"That sounds like our best bet to me, too."
"I don't know..." He remembered seeing the window of Christal's, that elaborate bejeweled Christmas tree. Exactly the kind of thing the Joker would go for, flashy and very valuable. Reaching a decision, he met Dick's eyes. "Contact Kathy and meet her downtown. The two of you can cover that area. I'll be in the diamond district. If anything happens..."
"I know, call you." Dick was already turning for the door, reaching in his pocket for his car keys. He turned in the doorway and pointed a finger. "The same goes for you, too."
"Don't worry about me," Bruce said absently, his mind already out in the night, sifting through his memories of the buildings around Christal's in search of a good watching place.
In a silent, darkened hospital room, Batman stirred and pressed a hand over his eyes, trying to hold on to those happier images, trying to fix them forever in his mind so he would never forget. With a bright, sharp stab of longing, he wished that he could go back and relive just those few hours, step back into that room and have the chance to stop what would come next. But of course he couldn't. Against his will, his mind rushed on. The last links in a deadly chain of events were being forged as he crouched on a rooftop, watching the cheerful flash and glitter of holiday windows...
The jewelry store owners weren't fools. Most of the precious gems in the windows had been removed for the night and locked up, the doors and windows covered with metal gates. But the emerald Christmas tree was still on display, visible behind a layer of thick bars and reinforced glass. It would also be protected by alarms; any attempt to steal it would bring the police running.
Maybe Kathy had been right, this was too obvious. The Joker loved to be clever, to outwit the law. He also always operated in a pattern. So what was the pattern this time? Christmas? Stores where people shopped for Christmas gifts? But that made no sense; almost every store in Gotham would fit that description. There had to be more.
With only two robberies to go on, it wouldn't be easy. Think. What did those two stores have in common? Toys, electronics... a lot of toys were electronic nowadays. Was that it? But the antique toys that had been stolen weren't electronic or even mechanical - except for the animated clown doll taken from a window display...
Batman tensed abruptly. The clown doll. The robotic Santa in the electronics store display. Both animated. Was that it? And did it indicate a likely next target? Yes, he realized. Bach's department store. Famous for windows filled with animated elves, reindeer, scenes of children receiving gifts. Also famous for the luxurious and expensive clothes, furs, decorations, and jewelry it sold. A spectacular crime for Christmas Eve. It all fit.
He was in the wrong place, and in the wrong part of town, he was sure of it. With a quick motion, Batman had his secure cellphone out.
Nightwing's voice answered in seconds. "What's up?"
"I think I know where the Joker's going to hit. How far are you from Bach's?"
"Ten minutes maybe."
"Good." Batman explained his theory in as few words as possible. "Is Batwoman with you?"
Her voice answered. "I'm right here. We'll head over there now."
"I'll meet you there."
But he hesitated. What if he was wrong? Logic wasn't exactly the Joker's strong suit, making him hard to outguess. And yet, that inner voice of instinct he had learned to trust over the years told Batman he was right.
Within five minutes he was back inside the Batmobile, pulling into the sparse nighttime traffic, impatient to get there. No real need to rush, he told himself, no reason to think anything would happen in the next few minutes. But that same little voice in the back of his mind whispered, Hurry...
Perhaps ten minutes later he was pulling over in front of the huge department store, feeling both a chill of alarm and a sense of déjà vu as he saw another looted window, the mechanical figures gone as well as the valuables that had been on display. In their place lay one of the Joker's cards again, grinning up at him like a death's head.
Nightwing's and Batwoman's motorcycles had been left a few yards away; they must have gone inside. With a muttered curse Batman spotted a door which had been forced open. The howl of approaching sirens came to his ears, then faded as he moved into the ominous dimness of the store's interior.
As he hesitated, wondering which way to go and whether to try calling his partners, another sound came from farther inside the building, faint but unmistakable. The harsh crack of distant gunfire.
If only he'd gotten there sooner. If only the Joker had gotten there later. Batman climbed to his feet and moved to the hospital window again, leaning his head against the glass, staring unseeingly into the dark of night. If only he'd made the right guess in the first place and decided to patrol downtown. If only he hadn't finally figured out where the Joker would strike. If only he hadn't sent Batwoman and Nightwing there. If only... if only...
TBC...