IMPORTANT: is having major issues with my computer at home. It will no longer allow me to import my chapters to the website, but luckily, I HAVE found a loophole...I think. I'm not quite sure what's wrong, but when trying to report it to support. I get error pages and the like. If the alerts don't work, I'm deeply sorry. But this is the only way I know how to update. Anyways, here's the next chapter!

It's a short one with lots of dialogue…enjoy!

Chapter Six

Convincing

Hastily standing, I knocked over my office chair, scooting back towards the wall. My mouth was gaping. But the man in front of me—the animal—didn't budge an inch. He stood there staring back at me, almost in a sardonic manner. His eyes narrowed as he watched me flail about, nearly knocking my computer over in my tirade. My breath quickened and my heartbeat was out of control. He remained silent.

"Wh-wh—whaa…" I stammered, loosing control of my voice, as well. "What do…do you want?"

"You're help," he replied, not budging an inch. How was that even possible?

"W—with what?" I questioned. My voice was still shaking. I cleared my throat, hoping it would help matters some.

He finally moved towards my desk, looking down the entire time. "With what?" I repeated, this time braver.

"From what I hear, you're a good investigator."

"And I su—suppose that gives you cause to b-break into my office."

"The window was unlocked."

"I'm on the 14th floor…" He didn't reply. Yet he continued to stare at the same exact spot, drilling a hole into it. Batman was concentrating intently on what to say next. I glanced towards my phone. It wasn't cordless, but I might have been able to call the police. It was a fleeting chance—one that wouldn't last long. Quickly, I grabbed the phone. "I'm calling the police…" I mumbled. Batman cocked his head and looked at me, holding the end of a cord: one that hooked to the phone and the wall.

"One step ahead of you." I dropped the dead phone immediately, staring at the man in black. It clanged on the side of my desk, continually beating against the cold metal. "I need you're help."

"So you've mentioned." I gulped. "How is it possible that I could help you?"

He uttered only two words that made my heart stop for an instant. "The Joker."

I sucked in air slowly before I responded. "And?"

"By the looks of it, you've already got a head start." He grabbed a file, holding it loosely in his hand. It was almost as if he were taunting me with it, waving it back and forth. I didn't answer him. Instead, he continued. "This is something I can't do by myself. I need help, but not just from anyone—from you."

Relaxing a bit, I realized something: he wasn't there to scare me or intimidate me. He wanted my help…genuinely. My muscles relaxed, somewhat, and my heart rate began to steady out. There wasn't anything to be afraid of…except for the fact that he climbed through a window 14 floors up.

"Why me?"

"Because…you want this guy dead as much as I do. Passion is what drives you and motivates you. Not fear. Fear limits people's potential. That, and you have an authentic reason to go after this creep. And if you're not helping me…I'm certain you'll just get in my way."

"How do you know I won't call the police once you leave?"

"It's a chance I'm willing to take. The question is: are you willing to help?" I looked into his piercing eyes. They were pleading, almost begging me to help him. They were speaking words the dark figure in front of me could not. I'm at the end of the road…and I don't know where to turn for help. I need you. Please.

Contemplating the decision, I reflected on something Ricky had said earlier. Leave the gung-ho attitude up to Batman. I grinned, but only for a split second. Slowly, I nodded in accordance with Batman. He seemed satisfied and relieved with my decision.

"You're not afraid of anything…are you?" He squinted his eyes. I could have bet money that he was smirking.

"Everyone's afraid of something. Even you." He decided not to respond. "What's in it for me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you'll capture the Joker. But even that's a long shot. It'll take months…could be years."

"You'll be doing the research regardless if we're working together."

Looking down at my feet, I thought intently. What would I want, more than anything else? My toes wiggled as countless thoughts went through my mind. My head snapped up as I stared at Batman. "I want to look into his eyes."

"What?"

"When you get him, before you kill him, if that's what you decide to do…I want to look into his eyes to show him that he made a mistake. Throughout all the murders he committed, I want him to know that he screwed up."

Curiosity struck him rather quickly. "How?"

"You want me to assist you? To help you?"

"Yes…I do."

I continued to stare at him unblinking. "Then I'll do it. Come into my office, after hours so no one will suspect anything. Come whenever you think it's necessary. I'll be here."

"You won't go home?"

"If you know where my office is, then you can certainly figure out where my home is. If I'm not here, then you'll know where I'm at." I sat down at my desk, stacking certain papers and shuffling through others, preparing to lend Batman some information. The email from Thompson lay next to my keyboard.

"You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"How did he screw up?"

"He had no idea I was even in Gotham City, let alone with my family. It was a party for my father. I suppose he thought I was out of town." Deciding to end the conversation, I took the file from Batman's grasp. Although my hands were still shaking, I no longer felt afraid of him. The fear had subsided, replaced with a sense of purpose. There was work that needed to be done. I opened the dossier, flipping through random pages. "His name's Jack Napier…at least that's what I think. Technically he doesn't have a name. It's just an alias."

"I thought Joker was his alias."

"Sure…" I trailed off, concentrating on the pages and my shaking hands. "I contacted Detective Jim Gordon earlier today. Perhaps you know him?"

"We've met," Batman smirked.

"Really?" I replied sarcastically. "Wouldn't have guessed that."

"What did you learn from him that I don't already know?"

"The kind of ammunition he uses." My eyes questioned him as I wondered if he already knew about the information. He remained silent. I pulled out a paper that had been scribbled on earlier. "Armor piercing rounds. They are extremely difficult to get a hold of in Gotham City. Many police officers have been killed, thanks to the criminals that use them. With the growing number of petitions out there, the ammunition is basically outlawed."

"By petitions?"

"That, and it's too much of a liability. The local government doesn't need a poorer reputation than it already has."

"True. What else?"

"The specific rounds are for an M60…a machine gun, in case you didn't know. That's also something you don't come by in an everyday gun shop around here."

"Okay, so he's not getting his supplies in Gotham."

"I didn't say that."

"So, what—you're assuming its black market?"

"Maybe. I only got this information a few hours ago. Give me some time to process it and think about it before we jump to conclusions."

He nodded his head, something I found odd. The man didn't move much as it was. "Okay…anything else?"

"I just got an email from Dr. E. Thompson, a former psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. He did a psychological profile on the Joker when he was a resident there. I haven't thoroughly read it, but I skimmed through a portion of the email. It seems as though the Joker has certain obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Have you noticed anything in his crime scenes that are strikingly similar to his other scenes?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that one," he sighed. "I haven't been to all of them."

"Okay," I replied, leaning back in my chair. It was after midnight, and I hadn't been home in quite a long time. "I need to get home and clean up, take a shower…and try to get some sleep. That, or I won't be able to get any work done. My boss will kill me." I ran my fingers through my hair. "Take this with you." I handed him my dossier. "I've read it at least a dozen times. It'll do you more good than me."

He nodded his head once again, which made me smile. But as soon as the smile came, it left. Realization dawned on me: I was sitting at my desk with Batman standing in front of me…my shaking hands caught my attention once again. Although considering the circumstances, being this calm wasn't in the least bit like me—or at least the old me. The old me would have screamed and ran out of the building at first glance. Yet here I was, having a conversation with Batman, of all people.

"Are you certain you'll be dedicated enough to help me?" Batman questioned.

Rubbing a hand across my face, I responded, "I'm not doing this to help you. I'm doing it to help me. I'll never be able to stop going after him. And you won't be able to stop, either. We might as well work together in the process."

"United we stand, divided we fall."

I raised my eyebrows. "What's that from?"

"Figure it out. Keep the window unlocked from now on." And within a single moment, he fled from my office and through the window. I couldn't help but stand up and run over to the glass, looking below. Unfortunately, he was already out of my sight.

So, I don't know how I feel about this chapter…it seems like it was just flung together. Let me know what you think! I might just redo it, though. Review, if you please!