Hello Saints and Sinners! CJzilla here with another update! In this chapter Bruce is not willing to give himself a break even though his body's still injured and Joker... is a contagious Joker is unleashed on Gotham. Enjoy!

As I rampage through this town, alls I have to roar is this...: R&R! Love... hate... review.

AN: I own nothing of "the Batman" or Dr. Walsh... I wonder if he's related to JOE Walsh...

"People who laugh actually live longer than those who don't laugh. Few persons realize that health actually varies according to the amount of laughter."

Dr. James Walsh

Chapter 3

Contagious

A cave; dark, deep and covered in mineral deposits from millenniums of dripping water. Amidst the towering stalagmites and hanging stalactites, cross-weaves of titanium reinforced levels and asphalt road cut through the rock. A computer screen of huge proportions cast a glowing blue light over the blackened shadows. Through the ambiance of eternally dripping water and flapping of the resident bats' wings, an adolescent girl's voice carried through the cavern.

"Dick… just sit still!" Barbara Gordon complained to her young friend. Both she and Dick Greyson were in the medical wing of their mentor's secret hideout.

"I'mmmf fine!" The teen boy garbled, his mouth and tongue still numb from Poison Ivy's muscle relaxer. Dick looked at his female friend and partner through naked green eyes.

Barbara, her Batgirl cowl draped over her neck, held a hand to the boy's shoulder while the other grasped a small flashlight.

"I've got to check your pupils!" The redheaded girl kept a frustrated expression as Dick tried to push her off of him. "Stop fighting! I would have been done by now!"

Dick didn't like it; he didn't like the blinding light in his eyes or Barbara closely looming over him. The boy shut his eyes to try to block out the light and the sight of the girl's face nearly on his.

"Stop!" He growled, turning his head. "I said I'mmmm… fine!"

But the teenage girl didn't listen. Grabbing her friend's chin she forced him to look up at here. Shining the flashlight in his overconfident green eyes, Barbara carefully checked them. His pupils reacted to light and gave her a wave of relief. Puffing a sigh into Dick's face she finally stood and flicked off the light.

"Dr. Barbara gives you a clean bill of health!" The girl proclaimed, setting the flashlight down on a medical caddy. "I prescribe more vegetables and less sass."

Quickly squiggling down her "prescription", Barbara took her joke one step further by handing it to Dick.

"That'll be six hundred dollars and a cupcake!" She beamed at the overly annoyed look he gave her. The boy was still slumped forward, still kinda weak due to the drug's effects not worn off yet.

"Ha… ha… ha." Dick managed a grin before wadding up the paper and stuffing it in his mouth. Barbara laughed.

With the kids' laughter echoing through the cave and carried to his ears, Bruce Wayne smirked. Dick and Barbara were getting very close. In the long run it was for the best. Both teens needed the tightest of bonds if they were to be partners with the Dark Knight.

Bruce sat in front of the huge computer, screening through his latest finds on one of the most powerful crime syndicates in Gotham. Black Mask and his hordes of henchmen. It seemed that Roman Sionis had his blood-soaked fingers in everything from arms dealing to drug trafficking to crooked government officials. The man needed to be brought down.

"It seems that criminals get more theatrical and sensational with every passing year." A voice with a soft British accent came from behind him. The presence of Alfred Pennyworth caught Bruce off guard. "This Sionis chap must take that marred mask off to eat and sleep, does he not?"

The billionaire crime fighter scolded himself for not hearing his butler and close friend approach.

"It's only reasonable that he does, Alfred." Bruce found that his irritation slipped into his voice. "And I've been seeing that mask in my sleep for the last two weeks."

"Ah, yes." The older butler folded his arms neatly behind his back. "Two weeks ago you muddled his premier weapons dealer. Piqued you as well as Black Mask."

"I'm determined to catch Sionis; I will cleave off every one of his criminal middle men until I get to him." Bruce growled lowly. Alfred's prolonged silence only meant that he disagreed with his employer and friend.

"Master Bruce…" The prim and proper man finally spoke. "You've given yourself no rest. Sir, if you continue like this, none of your injuries will heal properly."

The younger man shot his friend a punishing glare.

"I'm fine, Alfred." He muttered. But Alfred would not have it.

"You arm, for instance." The butler snapped back. "Take a look at it."

Bruce looked down at his left arm. He saw that his arm had swelled again; the still injured muscles inflamed because they were stressed by his activity. The tight fabric of his Batman costume exaggerated the swelling… at least that's what Bruce thought.

"Just some minor swelling." The man returned his eyes to the computer screen. He knew Alfred was not through yet.

"Pork pies and a bag of tripe, Master Bruce!" The English butler growled. "Your arm is re-injured. And what of your broken legs? Your shattered chest? You will hopelessly run yourself into the ground."

Again Bruce shot a glare at his friend.

"If I'm well enough to stand," he turned in his chair and leaned toward Alfred, "I am well enough to fight crime."

"You and I both know that crime never stops." The butler agreed, not breaking his angered glare toward his young friend. "BUT… it has slowed. Joker made sure of that."

Bruce's frown deepened. Yet a second time that someone mentioned Joker to him tonight. Irritated more than ever, Bruce turned back to his computer and huffed.

"Yin brought up Joker too." The man's voice was icy. "You two act like I owe Joker something."

"You owe that deranged harlequin nothing, Master Bruce." Alfred's tone did not unclench. "However, I see it fit to remind you that you are working your injured body too hard! And that most of Gotham's criminals are behind bars. There will always be criminal mischief… but take advantage of the slow times and rest. The Batman is no good if he does not allow himself to heal."

The twenty-something billionaire just held his eyes to the screen, his fingers working the keys. Inwardly, he could argue his case. Bruce had been taking it easy, since he was doing most of his work and research from the Bat-Cave. He'd tip off Commissioner Yin and Chief Bennett for the small stuff. But for the bigger criminals, such as Black Mask, Bruce's alter ego would personally manage them. Black Mask was out of the police's range; had been for years. Only the Batman could take down that master criminal.

Alfred gave a heavy sigh. Bruce was a stubborn person; the worst Alfred had ever known. Stubborn was what Gotham City needed, however it was rather unhealthy for Bruce Wayne. He was still limping, still flinching when he sneezed and still tender with everyday movement. Anyone with limited medical knowledge knew Bruce was far from well.

Alfred knew that there was nothing more he could do now with his young master. Turning and walking off quietly, the butler took the elevator to check on Master Greyson. Quickly ascending the two floors, Alfred exited the elevator. Barbara Gordon was standing in front of Dick, hands beside each of the boy's legs and staring intently at him.

"OK… Say… "Thumbelina"." The teen girl cracked a smile. Dick was clearly uncomfortable with the girl's playful nearness but he tried his best to pronounce words on a numb tongue.

"Tummmbaleeena." The boy drawled. Barbara giggled.

"Not even close, Dick." She said. "OK! New word! Say "Cumquats"."

A tint of red came to the boy's face. Alfred smiled at the innocence of youth as he walked over to them.

"Now, now Mistress Barbara." The butler put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Master Dick was subjected to a muscle relaxant. Have a little courtesy. He knows he is a drooling fool right now."

Barbara laughed and stepped aside. The boy's redness got a little darker as he frowned at the butler.

"Squeeze my hand, Master Dick." Alfred held out his gloved hand to the boy. Dick took it but not without looking off in a huff.

The boy's grip was still weak for his usual, but strong enough to crack his fingers.

"Very good, young master." He nodded. "You're coming back to your senses quite nicely."

Barbara leaned in again.

"Really?" She beamed. "Because I was thinking if he was this quiet, we should give him more muscle relaxants!"

Alfred shook his head.

"For a costumed crime-fighter, loose muscles are not recommended." He replied, giving her a cross look. "Master Dick would want all of his faculties in the face of Penguin, Bane or Joker."

The girl's face fell a bit as Dick stuck his tongue out at her.

"Okay, okay… you're right, Alfred." Barbara admitted. "I don't want to pick up any more slack."

The boy mocked her by giving her a teasing face. Barbara readily returned it. Alfred shook his head and glanced down at his watch.

"Mistress Barbara. Don't you have to be on your way soon?" He commented. The girl gasped.

"Oh, NO!" She exclaimed, bounding to the elevator. "Dad's gonna KILL me!"

The girl's playful and lovely face disappeared as the elevator doors closed over her form. Alfred knew Bruce would give her a ride; he always did.

"I t'out she'd never leave." Dick commented, arms folded. "I couln't f'ake anot'er minueeet…"

Alfred glanced back at the boy; his blush fading fast.

"Mistress Barbara has a way, doesn't she?" The butler stated. Dick looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow.

The man smirked and left the boy with his obscure comment ringing in his head. Alfred began to clean around the medical area; much out of habit. Of course the young boy couldn't reason with it but he could feel it. Dick had a puppy crush on Barbara, as did Barbara on Dick. It was obvious since the first time the Boy Wonder met Batgirl. Now it was a constant source of tickled enjoyment as Alfred watched the awkward attraction between the two teens.

"Bruce! Bruce!" Barbara came running out of the elevator and up to her mentor. The man was still seated at the super computer. "I need a ride twenty minuets ago! If I don't make it home right away, my dad's going to-!"

"Then maybe you should have thought of that when you had the opportunity to leave on time." Bruce growled. The girl stopped, her expression turned embarrassed. "You had the chance to be on time instead you flustered Dick."

The redhead swallowed.

"And is than anything new for me?" She quipped. But Barbara would rather face her angry father and Bruce's evaluation. "C'mon! Or you're gonna have to find a new girl to fit into the bat tights and rattle off annoyingly ironic jokes!"

Bruce sighed heavily, his aching body still screaming at him.

"Take the Batmobile. I'll set it to autopilot." The man responded. Barbara looked surprised before she nodded.

"Thanks! I've always wanted a solo multi-million dollar car ride!" The girl flipped to the elevator and was taken to the Batmobile's parking platform.

The car's roof slid open and the girl readily jumped into the driver's seat.

"Vroom vroom!" Barbara cheered as the door snapped shut. Up from the computer, Bruce was typing in the destination for the Batmobile's autopilot.

The billionaire heard the specialized car's fuel-cell engine start. Bruce's mouth tugged into a small grin as he could almost hear Barbara's giddy screams as the Batmobile roared into the tunnels and out into the city.

Joker felt his body trounce with the movement. He was moving. Impossible! He was still in the Arkham Asylum's hospital wing, waiting for his lolly and Batman sticker! The infamous wacko turned his head and tried to open his eyes. When Joker did, images and lights swirled together. There were flashes of light before it'd get dark again. He recognized the passing of streetlights over a moving vehicle. But he was in Arkham! The loony bin had no highway…

"Ugh…" Joker garbled, trying to get his senses back on straight. His muscles were floppy and heavy.

The fuzz of unconsciousness was nothing new… but it was surprising. Did he faint? Did he experience an involuntary sensory overload that sent him into Candyland? The last thing he remembered was the stab of the antibiotic needle. Maybe he was scared of needles after all! Joker let out a clumsy laugh, finding his "new phobia" of needles amusing. With no way to produce coherent movement, Joker counted the streetlights his transport passed. Suddenly it slowed, made a left turn, rocked over potholes before coming to a gradual stop. By that time, the insane harlequin found out that he was in a laundry bin… full of inmate's dirty clothes.

Joker was SO good at escaping, he could do it in his sleep! The man laughed louder this time.

And at once, the van's doors opened and shut. Counting the seconds until the sliding door opened, Joker saw two silhouettes in the windows. They glanced at him for a short second before they moved out of sight. Then the van's door opened and one man hopped into the back. It was so dark that Joker couldn't make out the man's face. All he knew… was that he was busted. Expecting the man to freak out, run away and call in an escaped inmate to Gotham PD, Joker managed a coy smile. But instead and against all logic, the unknown man grabbed the Harlequin of Hate and dragged him out of the bin.

With his mind still fuzzy and susceptible to sudden jolts, Joker felt vertigo before he felt thrown to the ground. Cool, hard asphalt of an alleyway was beneath his numb body. Rolling to his back, Joker only caught the two men hop into the van. The vehicle started up and casually made its way out of the alley. In just a manner of seconds, the van pulled around a corner and drive off into the night.

"Oooommmph…" Joker groaned, looking up into the spinning night sky. Freedom never felt so sick…

"Yeah… daddy. I'm sorry for being late again." Barbara spoke into her cell phone as the Batmobile carried her toward home. "Those Russian gymnasts sure know how to throw a pizza party."

James Gordon sighed heavily, angered just like any father would be if his child was out past curfew.

"You should have been home by now, Barbara." The man growled, making his daughter cringe in fear. "And you should have called BEFORE you went to that party! You didn't ask my permission, young lady!"

"I know, dad." Barbara tried to calm her father as the Batman's vehicle sped quickly over a highway near her home.

"Really?!" James Gordon barked. "Then why are we having this conversation? And why am I grounding you… again?!"

The girl took the phone from her ear, hugged it to her chest and gave a loud moan. Grounded! AGAIN! That was really going to cut in on her time as Batgirl! She was stretched thin as it was!

"Grounded? Really, pop?" Putting the cell phone back to her face, Barbara pouted into it. Her father grunted.

"Yes! You are grounded for the next week!" James Gordon ranted. "For disobeying curfew! You do it again and privileges will be revoked! Starting with going to Bruce Wayne's mansion."

Barbara gasped.

"But he's my gymnastics' sponsor!" Through a carefully calculated weave of lies and being "randomly" chosen for some charity, the great Bruce Wayne chose to sponsor Barbara Gordon's gymnastic career. Little did her father know that the man was also her crime-fighting mentor. "What am I supposed to tell Mr. Wayne?"

"The truth, Barb." Her father responded. "Tell him how irresponsible and disobedient you are to your curfew!"

"True that." The girl mumbled. Bruce Wayne knew pretty much every personality quirk of hers.

"What did you say?" James Gordon snapped, sure that his daughter was mocking him. Barbara opened her mouth to respond until she looked up.

In the headlights of the Batmobile, she saw someone in a white pants and shirt stumbling across the street and right in front of the speeding vehicle. She gasped and immediately reached for the steering wheel. When she jerked on it, the wheel refused to move. The autopilot was locked. Barbara could only watch as the Batmobile sped toward the idiot lingering in the street. She shut her eyes and expected a "thump" and all of the man's innards strewn across the hood.

Seconds before the big black car barreled across the man, he jumped high into the air. Landing gracefully, not unlike a professional athlete, Joker felt his heart race as he watched the car speed away. He was lucky he wasn't killed! With a dizzy smile, the harlequin stumbled out of the street and into the shadows, intent of getting his brain back together and finding his hideout. He did not recognize the neighborhood he was in OR his best friend's infamous car.

Barbara felt and heard nothing. Opening her eyes, she saw only the headlights of the Batmobile shining on black pavement. Spinning in her seat, Barbara looked out the back window. In the fading illumination of the Batmobile's taillights, she saw someone dressed in white stagger into the darkness. That's all she saw because the car took a quick right turn and pulled to a stop behind Barbara's home. Wow… was there really a person in front of the Batmobile or was she seeing things?

"Barb! Barbara!" The girl heard her father shouting at her through her phone. Shaking slightly, the teen put the phone back up to her ear.

"Sorry, pop. Some doofus nearly got creamed by… a car." The Batmobile to be exact. James Gordon groaned angrily.

"Get home right now!" He snarled. "It's not safe to be out after dark in this city!"

Just then the roof of the Batmobile opened and the girl looked into the night sky.

"OK. I'm almost home. I just got a ride from a good friend. See you soon." Barbara grinned at the irony.

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