Note: My one big disappointment with Nolan's Batman movies is that Robin was not in them and when he was, not in the right way. I mean, you have the perfect Batman in Bale, so why not do the story the right way. Oh well. . .

Chapter Nineteen: It's All Fun and Games…

Buffy had to admit that she had never been a fan of the circus. She hated clowns. They gave her the Wiggins in a major way, but the paper had said that this was to be a momentous occasion. Never before had this circus been to Gotham. It was a gypsy circus, one of great renowned all over the world. According to the posters all around the big huge red and white stripped tent, the star attraction were the Flying Graysons, a high wire act that required no net, and were spectacular to behold. Buffy and Bruce both agreed that it would be the perfect distraction on their last night of freedom.

They were seated on the front row, among a bunch of people that Bruce knew and Buffy had probably met in the last week, but couldn't really remember. It seemed to her that everyone was watching them, and after the morning's paper about the money he was spending on her and the time they were spending together (Is Bruce Wayne Ready to Settle Down?), she wasn't surprised.

It had been a long time since either one of them had been to the circus. When the lights went out and the Ringmaster appeared, highlighted by a single ray of light from above, the audience went silent and the entertainment began.

Elephants, tigers, lions, and clowns. Fire breathers, the strong man, more clowns, dancing bears – everything imaginable. Finally, after much anticipation, the stars took the center stage.

And they were marvelous. Flying high above, with no net down below. It was spectacular and graceful and beautiful. The Flying Graysons were a family consisting of parents, their seventeen year old daughter, fifteen years old son, and their youngest child who was eight. Though he did not perform with them, he was up on the platform, helping out whenever he was needed. All of it was flawless and amazing to behold.

The lights shut off again, and Buffy heard someone gasp, and then silence. Her hand tightened on Bruce's arm. "Something is wrong," she told him, but before they could stand and use the darkness to sneak out, the center light came back on.

And there stood the Joker.

The only thing that kept the crowd from jumping up and trying to escape in a panic was the other clowns that came out with machine guns. Women were screaming, children were crying. Everyone had seen the Joker's face in the newspapers and on television when he had terrorized the city before.

He reached inside the inside pocket of his jacket and fired a few rounds at the ceiling. There were cries of surprise, but the crowd quieted down, although a few sobs could be heard here and there. He wore the same suit he always had and the strange, poorly applied makeup. The only difference was the patch over his left eye.

"Greetings, Gotham City," the Joker stated loudly into the microphone. There was an incredible amount of high pitched feedback. He tapped on the microphone, blew into it, and then turned around to the back of the tent and waved the microphone into the air. After a few moments, he turned back to the crowd. "Hello, again," he said. This time there was no feedback. "I am the Joker, which you already know. What you do not know is that I have several bombs placed about this big tent here." More gasps. "Now, before anyone gets upset, let me just say that I have no intention of setting off those bombs." Silence. "I just want what I have always wanted and no one will get hurt. Does anyone know what it is that I want?"

No one moved or said anything. He held the microphone out and turned in a circle, then sighed and tapped it against his head. The sound vibrated through the speaker system. "I just want the Batman to show himself. That is all. All I ask."

Buffy felt Bruce stiffen next to her and she gripped his arm even tighter, shaking her head slightly. He did not relax at all, who would, but he did not make any more moves either.

"While we wait, let's have a little entertainment, shall we?" He turned to the high wire. "They were so good before, so let us give a round of applause to the Flying Graysons." He began to clap, but no one joined in. Sighing dramatically, he spun around to the crowd once more. "Clap or we start shooting people." Slowly the crowd began to clap. He waved his arms around and the clapping increased. "Good. Now for the act."

Up above the Graysons had climbed to the wires again. They were nervous, obviously afraid, but the fact that one of the Joker's men had the youngest boy by the arm, a gun to his head, urged them to go on.

"Well, get started," the Joker urged into the microphone. Stealing themselves, they began to perform. "It is amazing to me how they do this with such confidence." The Joker commented. "How dedicated they are. You know the Batman is dedicated, has done so much for this city, but yet you people abhor him. It makes me wonder what you would do if all of the sudden he decided to disappear and never come back." The Joker shook his head. Up above, the Flying Graysons performed. "You blame him for everything. I wasn't expecting him to show himself tonight. In fact, given what has been going on the last few days, I think he has abandoned all of you." He peered up at the performers. "And do you know why? Because you are an ungrateful bunch of pigs!" He shouted into the microphone. "I really needed to repay the Batman for what he and his little helper did to me!" He pointed at his eye patch with the barrel of his gun. "But you, Gotham, have robbed me of that! So this is for you."

The explosion was not a big one. In fact it was very small. Just large enough to send the high wire polls falling to the ground below, along with the Flying Graysons. Buffy could only watch in abject horror as she and Bruce jumped to their feet, along with everyone else. There were gasps and screams, and cries from the crowd as all watch helplessly as the four people fell to their deaths.

In the confusion, the Joker and his men had disappeared. The crowd began to scramble in panic. Buffy turned to leave, what else could she do, but Bruce refused to move. She turned to look at him, saw the look on his face: his eyes wide, his features pale. He was breathing heavily.

"Bruce," she began, but before she could get his entire name out, he pulled away from her, jumped over the railing, and began fighting his way through the throngs of panicking people.

Buffy followed as best as she could in the dress and heals she wore. She looked around frantic for him, but could not see him. She knew he had not left, but she did not know where he had gone to. And then she found him. And she remembered what he had told her about having to watch his parents die when he had been nine years old, and everything made since.

He was on the other side of the tent, and in his arms, shielded by Bruce's body from the twisted and broken bodies of his family, was the youngest member of the Flying Graysons.

People were giving statements to the police. Policemen, media from both news TV and the newspaper were there. Sirens and flashing lights. Ambulances and medical people helping the ones wounded during the stampede out. The coroner's van, backed into the circus tent.

Buffy had already given her statement as had Bruce. Now she was leaning against a police car, her eyes on Bruce. He was talking to Commissioner Gordon. Every once in a while, he would glance over at her and she could see the haunted look in his eyes. Then he and Gordon would glance over at Gordon's unmarked car. Finally, Gordon nodded, and they shook hands. Bruce came over to her.

"Gordon is going to let us take him home, to Wayne Manor," Bruce announced and Buffy did not question his need or reason for this. She just nodded. "I'll go get him." He turned and went to the unmarked car. He kneeled down in the open back door, and all she could see of him was his shoes. Then he slowly stood and in his arms, holding on tightly to him, was the young boy, who had buried his tear streaked face into Bruce's shoulder, and shuddering with sobs.

Buffy felt her heart break.

She felt her anger at the Joker multiply.

She felt her guilt like a stab to the heart.

When Bruce walked up to her, she took his coat that she had been holding and draped it over the boy, tucking it in so it would not fall off. She looked up into Bruce's eyes and saw the same things she was feeling, only there was something else there also, sadness. An understanding.

And a raw, unadulterated need to avenge.