'Kay, that was different.
We were approaching the front door, when who did we find lying in the gutter but Eddie.
I helped him up, expecting a trap. Nothing. He was dazed from a bump to the noggin, his nose a little bloody, his ribs maybe a little more tender than they had been, but he wasn't really any worse off than this time yesterday.
"Jesus Christ, Eddie, what happened to you this time?" I asked. He seems to have lost his fear of me. He actually leaned on me as I walked him to the car.
"He…let me go."
"Let you go?" We did not go to all this trouble, I did not work myself up to such a fearful frenzy, for such an anticlimactic ending.
"He asked a question, I answered it. He let me go."
"What about Lexy?" the Scarecrow asked.
Aye, there's the rub.
What is it with the boss and twenty-year-old girls? Some kind of kinky clown bondage fantasy? I mean, what the hell?
Eddie stayed in the car. No sense dragging him back into the belly of the beast.
In we went.
The boss is always the boss. He never changes. Not so much as his purple zoot suit. Every time I see him, I get this little flash of fascination, of sick attraction. I can't help it. I do know how very wrong this is. I guess I'm really no better than Harley when it comes to resisting his charms.
He was smiling when we came in. Even that never changes. Three of his goons (thoroughly his, no loyalty to me) had escorted us from the front door to the throne room, holding guns to our heads. We were (or appeared to be) unarmed.
Lexy was there, bound and gagged, looking like Princess Leia chained to a very thin Jabba the Hutt. She had been crying. She cries too easily, I think.
"Puddin'!" Harley cried, and threw herself into his arms, all past quarrels forgotten.
"Welcome home, Harley." At least he was happy to see her. "Hullo, there, Chuckles. Didn't you fall to your doom?"
"Eh, not quite, boss. Aren't you the one who taught me that bottomless pits are a notoriously unreliable means of death?" That made him giggle. I love it when I can make him laugh. Reminds him why he keeps me around.
"Good show, then. But I see you've taken up with the Scarecrow, haven't you? Tut, tut. Your taste in companions has hit a new low. I mean, leaving me for old Batsy was bad enough, but this stick in the mud?"
"Any association between the two of us is strictly temporary and born of necessity, Joker, I assure you," said the Scarecrow. "I'm just here for the girl." Shit, I could have told him stiff and grouchy wouldn't work on my boss.
"Uh-huh. It's awfully rude of you not to introduce your other friends." He waved a negligent finger.
The gunshots on either side of me were ridiculously loud. Our two guys—Harry and Wally—crumpled. I looked down and saw that they just kind of stopped from the neck up. I had God knows what all over my borrowed shoes.
"Hey! I liked one of those guys," I protested.
"Do you know how hard it is to find good help?" Scarecrow added.
"I have some idea." He smiled benignly at me. "What about you, Chuck? What do you want from your good old Uncle Joker?"
"Like the man says, boss. I want her to go free."
"Really? You came all the way down here just for her? Not for dear Eddums?" Oh, creepy. We gave the guy the same nickname. That can't be a good sign for me. Unless the boss just picked it up from my last notebook. But it does sound like something he'd say, doesn't it? Oh, hell.
I decided to lie about Eddie.
"Look, boss, just because I feel sorry for a guy doesn't mean I'm going to try to take him out of your hands. Especially after he's answered all my questions."
"Ruthless. I applaud." True to his word, he clapped his hands delightedly. "But about the kid, why should I let her go? She has no sense of humor. What could she possibly have to contribute to the world?"
"Well, you remember that little suicide mission you sent me on? She helped me out of that. And she also helped save Harley from a deranged maniac of the murderous variety."
"Uh-huh, it's true." Nice contribution, Harley. Very helpful, thanks.
"You're boring me. Is there anything else, or can I shoot her now?"
"Aw, come on, boss. I brought back Harley, so you have your loving spoonful. I'm here, yet again, to hench for you—and you know I'm good enough not to need a boss anymore, and everyone else knows it, too. With me working under you, your ratings would go right through the roof." I let the tone of my voice turn that into a teasing little double entendre. "And I brought you a guy you don't like much. I don't know what you could do with the Scarecrow, but I'm sure you'll think of something."
Surprise, Scarecrow.
At least, I assume that's what he was feeling when he turned his face toward me. Like me, he wears a mask that covers the whole face. So much better to keep yourself in and everything else out. The only part of his face I could read was his icy blue eyes.
Fury.
Oh, good one, Liss. Wishing that I had worn my costume and never mind the blood, I tried to tell him without giving myself away that it was all just a trick.
"You know, Chuckles, you're not as good as you think you are," the Joker said just before the Scarecrow released his fear toxin, flooding the room with white smoke.
Standing right next to him, maskless, I probably got the worst of it.
I heard gunshots. Couldn't see where they went. Heard people screaming, "spiders!" and "no air!" and "Puddin'!" and "Batman!" Heard a little boy calling my name. Heard the Joker's wild laughter.
Out of the fog came Lexy and the Scarecrow. She was hysterical, breathing in the toxin. He led her on calmly. They walked around my body as I lay helpless on the floor. They didn't stop.
They were gone. I heard laughter. Knew he was coming for me. Saw…exploding faces.
Got to get out.
I crawled to the door, dragged myself out to the relative safety of the hallway, where the fog of fear was not so thick. I couldn't make it any farther. Just huddled in the corner, waiting for HIM to come out and kill me.
Then I felt a pair of hands on my arms, urging me to stand up.
"Come on. Get up. It's not safe here."
"Batman? You came to rescue me?" I could see nothing but my own blood-splattered feet. I may or may not have mentioned Fusty out loud. Here's hoping I didn't.
"Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home. Your house is on fire and your children will burn."
Scarecrow. Suddenly, nothing scared me more than that gangly little man.
"What do you want? Leave me alone! I was just bluffing, okay? Did I just tell you Mr. Fusty's real name? Tell me I didn't."
"You didn't. Get up." I let him drag me to my feet because it was easier than resisting. "Now, put one foot in front of the other. We need to leave."
"But…why would you help me?" I asked as I followed him down the hall. "What do you want?"
"I know you're afraid. Deal with it. You'll survive."
"But what do you want from me?" It was so important for me to know. It actually mattered. It would have made a difference. Sure.
He opened the door and took me outside.
"I want my…I want Lexy to stop crying about what she thinks the Joker is doing to you. That's all I want from you." I didn't believe him, not even when he opened the car door and let me fall across Lexy and Eddie's laps.
Lexy hugged me. Eddie patted me in an awkward but friendly kind of way. I heard the Scarecrow mutter something about becoming a nursemaid. I heard the Joker's laugh.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up here.
A library. I always have enjoyed the smell of books. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer so I could surround myself with paper and ink. I covered my girly pink wallpaper with comic strips cut from the newspaper just because I loved the smell.
So, what is this, the fourth time he's gassed me this week? Fucking ridiculous.
But I am grateful for the rescue. He could have left me there. He really had no way of knowing I wasn't actually going to betray him.
I guess it goes without saying that the two of us are never going to be friends. But I don't think we have to be enemies.
Lexy's doing much better now that the toxin's out of her system. I guess I owe her one. She says we're even.
I can see how much she wants to stay with her Scarecrow. I can see how much he wants to keep her. I don't think it's going to work out.
The worst thing that can happen to guys like us, a friend once told me, is to find love. Death is nothing next to that. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Not for us. When we love, we always lose. The lucky ones, the smart ones, never love anything but themselves. Then they have only themselves to lose.
Joker had him killed soon after he told me that.
Eddie could go now, if he wanted. He hasn't left yet. I like to think that he's staying here out of gratitude to Lexy, and maybe even to me. But maybe he's just scared of being alone. I can understand that. Sometimes it's nice to have friends, even if you and your friends don't particularly like each other.
I know Lexy will take care of him as long as he chooses to stay with her. I know I could stay, too, but I won't.
It's time for me to go back to the Batcave. I think I'm just recording all these thoughts because I don't want to leave yet.
Thought: the boss will be coming after them again sometime. I should help with that. They'll need all the help they can get.
--
All right, I'm gone. I'm on the bus to you-know-where. I think if I tell him how and where, Bats will apprehend the Joker and put him away in Arkham. That won't hold him long, but chances are by the time he gets out, he'll have forgotten all about Lexy and the Scarecrow. Especially if I can paint a big red bulls-eye on someone else's ass.
To the Batcave, Robin.