AN: And it is not recommended in Gotham. Seriously, don't do it. Just don't.

This went in an entirely different direction than I meant it to. Oops.

Christineoftheopera-There's a ninety percent chance he wouldn't even come in, if it's that bad.

For once, he hadn't been planning on murder.

Really, he doesn't plan that many murders. Not the individual ones. Mass chaos that might include some deaths, sure. But the random, individual murders? Those are usually done on a whim, because of screaming toddlers or giggling teenagers or some sort of annoying 'bro'.

But tonight in particular, he'd meant to behave. Hadn't even come out overly armed-the standard canister of toxin, for safety, but nothing more than that. It's nice out, it's warm, and after the rain, everything's cooled down and almost clean.

You know. For Gotham.

So when some punk kid monkey-jumps* over the park bench and waves what appears to be a can of bug spray in his face, he is not impressed.

When he gets a good look at said kid and sees that he's wearing some sort of...of...burlap mockery of his mask, with a witch's hat on top of it, he's fairly well pissed. What is this, a joke? Is this a joke? Jonathan Crane does not like to be the butt of jokes, especially not stupid ones.

"Scream for me!"

He bursts out laughing. He can't help it. The drama, the whole get-up (is that a pumpkin pin? Really?)...it's hilarious and tragic at the same time.

"Go home, child. You look ridiculous, and Halloween is months away."

"I am the Master of Fear!"

Oh. He sees how it is. Some stupid kid, playing at being scary and powerful. Oh, Gotham...

The kid's not expecting him to do anything but panic. He's certainly not expecting him to swipe the can and beat him over the head with it.

"Ow! You dare to attack me?"

Christ, he's wearing a cape. Jonathan can't stop his palm from colliding with his face and sliding down, dislodging his glasses on the way.

"You picked the wrong pedestrian, kiddo." he says regretfully, fishing around for a spare zip-tie and binding the kid's hands. "Sorry."

"Let go of me! You'll be sorry!"

Eh. Unless Bats drops down at this exact moment, he doubts it.

He grabs the thrashing ankles, pauses, and jams a bit of the mask into his mouth to shut him up. Then he starts dragging. If he happens to pass over some large rocks on the way, well...can't be helped.

"Thought you were going out for a-what is that."

"I found him. Can we keep him?"

She doesn't think that's funny-whatever, it was-and comes over to kick his new friend in the ribs. There's a cry and he leans down and plucks the witch hat off, flings it away. A few bobby pins go with it and he shoots Kitty a look.

"Really?"

"Hey, you have to keep it on somehow."

Sure.

He grabs the mask and yanks it off. Judging by the resistance and the ripping noise, he takes some hair with it. Oops.

The kid really is a kid-knobby and with ginger hair that sticks up every which way.

"Seriously?" He nudges him a bit. "Seriously? Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Fuck off!"

"And they call me crazy, Kitty."

Move, bitch. Who's pretending to be me?

Stay out of this-

Out the way!

Scarecrow squints down at the little prick.

"You." he rasps. "You rotten little brat, what do you think you're doing?"

The guy blinks up at him, looking confused as hell.

"Uh..."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Some Batman wannabe?"

WHAT? This little-he-

HAHAHAHA!

Shut up.

You do kind of sound like him.

Shut your whore mouth.

"No." he hisses. "You picked a bad night to play dress-up, kiddo. I'm the Scarecrow."

"Where's your mask then, huh?"

Kids today...

He snatches it off the table, jams it on his head, and lets the little taste half a canister of fear gas. Screaming ensues immediately.

There. All better!

"Really?"

Scarecrow melts away and Jonathan sways, puts his hand against the wall so as not to fall.

"Scarecrow did it?"

"He looked up to you!"

"Clearly he was an idiot."

"Fair point." She leans up to kiss his cheek. "You killed him, though, so you can get rid of the body."

"He's not dead yet!"

"He was going to live?"

This is true.

For now, though, body disposal can wait. He has to draw up a good place to put it, so nobody else makes a fool of him like this.

Idiots.

THE END

*Parkour. He means parkour. He is not with things.