A/N Mmm…nothing.

DisclaimerMe own Batman no.

Acknowledgment I would like to thank my Mother Goose tapes for their formative influence on my young psyche, and my father, for enduring their obnoxious interpretations of animal personalities.

Chapter 6

My mother used to say that there are no strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. She's now in a maximum security twilight home in Australia.

- Dame Edna Everage

For a moment, nothing happened. Then she heard the engine hum to life and the headlights blinked on. Cecilia smacked her forehead with her gloved palm and immediately regretted it as filthy snow crystals stuck to her already freezing skin. It's official. Gentlemen, let it not be forgotten that I am an… The music was so light and tinkling that at first she thought she imagined it. I know this tune…something about a cobbler…

…the monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey said 'twas all in fun…

She threw her arms over her head as the Jaguar erupted in a brilliant ball of flame.

- - - - - -

Earlier that afternoon…

As soon as Gordon shut his door, the car purred away from the curb, barely causing a ripple in the stream of traffic as it merged. Gordon turned his head to examine the man sitting by the far door – a man who was a far cry from the frightened child he remembered from the police station all those years ago. Bruce Wayne was a model of relaxed posture, every styled hair in place, but there was a strain around his eyes and the corners of his mouth that belied his calm. Gordon cast a glance at the elderly driver. "Can we talk here?"

Wayne followed the lieutenant's gaze and permitted the shadow of smile to flicker across his face. "Don't worry. Alfred is more trustworthy than I am."

Gordon slumped down against leather seat and fixed a vague stare out Wayne's window. "So, Mr. Wayne, what do you know?"

There was no apparent change in the billionaire's demeanor as he replied evenly, "I believe the boy taken is my ward, Richard Grayson."

Gordon let out a long, slow breath. "Are you sure?"

"He had a dental appointment this morning at the clinic next to the bank. He was escorted by…his case worker, a Miss Somerville."

The hesitation was slight, but Gordon caught it and filed it away for future reference. Aloud he said, "The kidnapers dumped the woman's purse in the parking lot and left her ID. Cecilia Somerville, address in Miami. We hadn't been able to reach anyone there or find her connections here."

"Miss Somerville is new to Gotham. She's actually staying with us just now."

Gordon's eyes suddenly lost their vague expression, but Wayne's face gave away nothing. "I see. Mr. Wayne, as the boy's guardian, you have the right to know that we have received a message from the Joker. He promises that as long as there is no attempt to apprehend him, the hostages will remain safe. In fact, he's promised to release them by the end of the day."

The skepticism in Gordon's voice was evident, and Wayne's eyes narrowed. "What are the chances of that happening?"

The shoulders in the wrinkled uniform shrugged. "We can trace this guy to hostage situations in three other parts of the country, and none of them turned out well. But on the other hand, he's never contacted the authorities before. So maybe he means what he says."

"No demand for a ransom?"

"No. The boy wasn't taken because he belongs to you, Mr. Wayne. Chances are, the kidnapers won't even know who he is unless he or Miss Somerville tell them. We'll keep it out of the media as long as we can."

"Then you don't think I should try to contact this…Joker and offer a ransom?"

Gordon shook his head emphatically. "No. I…there's another complication."

"What's that?"

"The Joker wants the Batman to come and collect the hostages."

- - - - - -

"Lieutenant Gordon reposes a lot of trust in you, sir."

"Because he advised me to leave the matter entirely in…my hands?"

"You should share his confidence. You will bring him back, sir."

The phone rang and Bruce grabbed it. A moment later, he hung it up and reached for his cowl. "The directions."

"Excellent. Shall I prepare a late supper?"

The chill eyes passed over Alfred, looking through him. "Don't expect anything."

- - - - - -

The heat from the blast washed over her back in wave after comforting wave. It was the first real warmth she'd felt since leaving Wayne Manor that morning, and Cecilia couldn't resist a small smile in appreciation of the irony as she lifted her head to survey the wreckage. Bits of glowing debris littered the ground between her and the flaming body of the car. I love it when I'm right.

A different roar sounded over the crackling of the fire, and Cecilia put her head back down as a white sedan pulled around the corner of the shack and raced off down the track. As soon as the car was out of sight, Cecilia sat up and stared down at her soaked front. The heat had turned snow to slush for a good fifty foot radius around the car. Hurray for hypothermia. A second explosion split the air and she threw herself back to the ground as the shack crumbled in flames.

"I guess that means we have the place to ourselves." She stood and began to slog through the field of stumps. "Richard!" His small form appeared almost immediately, not as far away as it should have been, but out of the ring of melted snow. Cecilia eyed his dry form enviously. "Did you like the fire works? Maybe we should have a wiener roast to round out the evening."

"Your sweater is burning," Richard informed her calmly.

She turned her neck and got a nose full of acrid smoke. Coughing, she dropped to the ground and heard the sizzle as the melting snow put out her smoldering sweater and soaked through to her skin.

Richard watched her unsympathetically. "I could have smacked it out for you."

"And burn a hole in those five hundred dollar gloves? Besides, that would have been the smart thing to do, and I'm not very smart, remember?" If the boy was embarrassed, the flickering flame light didn't show it. Cecilia picked herself up and glared down at him. "Why did you run out there, anyway?"

"None of your business."

"Oh no? Then it's obviously also none of my business that I'm standing in the middle of nowhere, soaked and freezing, while our only means of transportation does its part to ruin the ozone layer."

"You didn't have to come after me."

"Somebody had to keep you from getting your head blown off."

"Well somebody had to try to help that mom, too!"

Cecilia took a deep breath. And then another. "I lost my temper just now. I apologize."

The boy kicked at the snow. "Whatever."

Cecilia was about to suggest that they move closer to the enticing warmth of the wreckage when the sound of an engine caused her to jerk Richard to the ground. "What is it, a tank?" she muttered as the roar of the vehicle grew incredibly loud. Between her filthy glasses and the darkness it was impossible to distinguish the details of the vehicle, other than that it was black and bulky.

But it took more than smudged lenses to explain the next part of the apparition. The vehicle screamed to a halt and he…it…a shadow emerged, tall and lightless and horned. I think he forgot his pitchfork.

"Hey!" Before Cecilia could react, Richard had scrambled to his feet and was running headlong toward the creature.

She ran desperately after him, vaguely aware that the shadow had seen them, was coming toward them…

Gotcha. Her hand closed over Richard's forearm and she jerked the boy behind her, trying to back away from the approaching shadow. There was a blur of movement and then…

- - - - - -

"Are you all right?" Bruce rasped, gripping his ward by the shoulders and dangling the boy in midair.

"Yeah! But the car blew up."

"I noticed. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yup." Dick wiggled impatiently and Bruce set his feet back on the ground. "They didn't do anything to us. Just locked us up and stuff."

"How did the car blow up?"

Dick shrugged. "I dunno. Miss Somerville made me crawl out of the car. Then I think she crawled out behind me, and then it exploded." Dick gestured violently. "The…the guy told her to shine a flashlight out the window, so she did that first."

"What guy?"

"The…the one in charge."

"The Joker?"

"Yeah. I guess." Dick turned to look at the prostrate form in the snow. "I think she was just scared of you."

"Probably. I…uh…didn't realize who she was."

"She can probably explain it better to you."

"She can explain it to the police. Let's get out of here." Bruce bent and heaved the unconscious form of the social worker over his shoulder.

------

Consciousness hurt. Cecilia forced her eyes open a crack and tried to make sense of the blur of shadows, which seemed to be pulsing in time with her head. There was a pale smudge in the bottom corner of her vision, and she tilted her head an excruciating inch to see Richard wedged in beside her.

She forced her head back up and saw the horned shadow sitting behind the wheel. It took a few moments to locate her voice. "Who are you?"

"He's Batman," Richard informed her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Bat…Man? Not horns, then, but…ears. And with the diminishment of the devil to the merely animal, she felt hysteria rising, like fizz from a well shook soda. Clenching her teeth to hold back the giggles she muttered, "Richard, are you acquainted with this…gentleman?"

Before the boy could answer the shadow spoke in a deep, rasping voice. "Most people in Gotham know who I am."

And I always thought bats were kind of squeaky. Choking down another burst of laughter, she managed, "Where…?"

"Home."

To Be Continued…

A/N Hmm, not too sure how I feel about this section, but I guess every chapter can't be a masterpiece!

For anyone who was denied the delights of nursery rhymes as a small child, the full verse of the song is

Round and round the cobbler's bench,

the monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey said 'twas all in fun.

POP! Goes the weasel.

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