Author notes: This chapter serves only one purpose: to ensure I keep canon with myself. I have another story I'm working on with Sno-Chan that would have proven contradictory to the ending of this one had I not stuck this in. I HATE being out of canon, so here's my quick fix. It's not much of anything so don't expect it to be. I tried to make it as entertaining as I could.
The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Just when White was trying to decide how much 'vacation' time he should take in order to fade into the background once again, and how much of his savings he would be using, the clowns had disappeared. He had been worried that his absence could make him more notable rather than the reverse, at least in regards to Harley, but now that wouldn't even be an issue.
He knew neither of them had been arrested because that sort of news tended to travel quickly. What was going on wasn't any of his business, so he resolved to enjoy himself during this little break. After a week had passed, some of the other guys couldn't wait for funds any longer and went off to find other vocation. White was always warning them about how much they spent on the local tricks, but then that was typically one of those things you had to learn the hard way and not many people had been playing this game as long as he had.
Another week had passed and still no word on the street in regards to the Joker. White wasn't worried. He was used to his boss being gone for months at a time in Arkham and prepared for these eventualities. He was known for being quite stingy with his cash and he hoarded his money away in a wise manner unlike most of his colleagues. Times like these White looked upon as a vacation where he'd only occasionally freelance himself for different odd jobs if he was beginning to feel the pinch.
By the beginning of the third week, White was feeling truly relaxed, more so than he had in quite some time. He was in the middle of a game of pool with Henshaw when it happened.
"Why dontcha be a pal and buy the next round?" Henshaw hinted.
"Because I'm a cheap bastard," White answered with a smirk. Henshaw grunted in displeasure, not so much because of the drink as he had just missed a shot, and White stepped up to the table. "What have you been up to anyway?" he asked.
"Oh, y'know, just a job here and there. Tripps got me a gig for Scarface last night, but I didn't want to hang around. Takin' orders from a block 'o wood always pissed me off. 'Sides," he added with a smile, "I haven't worn out my welcome here yet."
White shook his head. "I'm sure you'll get right on that when the boss gets back…whenever that is."
The nosy bartender had overheard their conversation and signaled them to approach. Henshaw had caught the gesture and nudged White, causing him to miss his shot as well. "Shit!" he cursed. "Just because you're losin' don't mean you have to screw me up!"
"Chill out! You can have your turn again. That guy looks like he wants to tell us somethin'."
"And I care because?" White asked, still annoyed.
"Well, I'm curious. You can stay here if ya want." White was honestly curious too so followed behind, despite his feign at disinterest. "Whatcha want?" Henshaw asked when they reached the counter.
"I recognize you two. Come in here a lot. You're some of those guys what work for the Joker, am I right?" the bartender began.
"Maybe we are. What of it?" White cut in.
"Someone was here lookin' to round you guys up again earlier today. Says the J-man is back in town. Thought you'd be interested is all."
Both the henchmen looked at each other and then back at the bartender. "Did this person happen to say where Joker was holed up?" White asked.
"Now that is going to cost you," the bartender grinned, showing an unsightly set of teeth, his true motives revealed.
"I can't believe you paid him for that," Henshaw said in a manner that suggested he thought the information worthless.
"Think of it as an investment," White responded. "Now we can get back to work."
"And how do we know he was tellin' the truth?"
"He wouldn't lie. We spend too much time there. It'd be bad for business."
"I guess so," Henshaw admitted, but still sounding unsure, until they rounded a corner to their destination and saw a familiar face entering the same alleyway. He was someone that they had been working with recently, a guy simply known as Tag.
"Hey! White! Henshaw!" Tag greeted them happily. "Been expectin' to see you guys."
"How long you been here?" White asked, hoping they hadn't been missed too long.
"Only since yesterday," Tag assured him.
"…So where'd the boss run off to?" Henshaw asked.
"Hell if I know! You wanna ask him?" Tag offered.
Henshaw looked very much as though he'd rather not.
End notes: But you don't have to ask! Look for the story "Roadtrip" by henchwenchesforhire to find out just what our clowns have been up to.