AN: In which Jonathan is assertive, for once. I don't see the Joker as sex-crazed, I just think having someone be so completely uninterested in his advances would throw him off balance.

Thanks for the reviews!

Things were almost sane over the next few days which, in retrospect, should have been his first sign that something terrible was going to happen.

Having awoken the next morning still full of guilt over the betraying Harley issue, Jonathan decided to deal with it the same way he dealt with most problems: Ignoring the emotions and burying himself in research. Unhealthy? Definitely. But it worked, at least for a short period of time. And if he kept himself distracted long enough, he'd found that sometimes solutions to problems just came to him. Though he doubted a good excuse for making out with Harley's boyfriend was going to occur to him any time soon.

Still, there was no harm in trying, so his first act upon waking was to gather his supplies and attempt to recreate that strange laughing side effect a trial compound had given him years ago. He distantly realized that he should eat something before starting the process—during research he tended to neglect trivial things like food or his wellbeing—but by the time everything was assembled his scientific curiosity was too great to be distracted by something like breakfast. He knew he should eat, but it seemed unnecessary, and besides, hunger was easy to block out when he was working. He could block out almost everything, really.

Unfortunately, 'almost everything' did not include the Joker.

The Clown Prince of Crime woke up several hours after him, and upon finding Jonathan on the living room floor, surrounded by chemicals and scribbling notes, apparently decided this was a great time to be seductive. "Morning, kitten."

It was well past noon, actually, but he was too focused to point that out. The only thing that had been able to break his concentration since he'd begun was the truly horrible taste of the nail polish Joker had put on him. It was almost enough to make him stop biting. Not quite, though. "Hi. Working."

"That's friendly." The Joker stepped over the many glass vials on the floor and sat down. "How are things going?"

"Yes."

He tilted his head. "I take it you're in one of those moods where you don't hear a word I'm saying?"

"No." He was still writing, hands half-covered in ink from smudges he hadn't bothered to let dry before writing over them. "I hear you."

"So, you're just ignoring me, then?"

"Yes."

Joker pursed his lips, thinking, then leaned forward and waved a hand in front of Jonathan's face.

No response.

"How long do you think it'll take you to do this?"

"Possibly days."

"Days?"

"I have to recreate the original toxin and then devise a way to strengthen the effects. It's a trial and error process."

Joker shifted, looking bored and impatient already. He really had no self control at all. "Can't you take a break, kitten?"

"If you want things to take even longer, then yes."

The clown sighed, shifted again, and grabbed Jonathan without warning, pulling him into a kiss. It lasted only a few seconds; then Jonathan got over the shock and pushed the Joker off of him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to break your concentration." He smirked at his companion's flustered face. "I'd say I succeeded."

Jonathan considered throwing something at him, until he remembered that everything he had to throw was breakable, or filled with dangerous chemicals, or both. Mostly both. Fantastic. "Go away. I'm trying to do what you kidnapped me for in the first place."

"I didn't kidnap you, scaredy cat. You asked me to take you, don'tcha remember?" He glanced down at Jonathan's notes and shook his head, feigning concern. "I think all these drugs are messing with your mind. You oughta stop for a while."

"I think I'm fine, thanks." Jonathan smiled slightly, lowering his head to hide it. It was funny, really, how…needy the Joker could be. It made sense, though, once he thought about it. An agent of chaos needed something to harass, that something being Jonathan in this case. When he was preoccupied, like now, the clown seemed almost unable to leave him alone.

He went back to his notes, trying to ignore the Joker, who was now comparing the safety of his experiments to a meth lab, or something ridiculous. He thought about pointing out that unlike the average meth brewer, he was sober and actually trained in what he was doing, but decided against it. He wanted to see if Joker would become desperate if not given attention for an extended period. That would be useful information. Very useful.

He was midway through documenting a rather important bit of information when the Joker's hand was around his wrist, lifting his hand away from the notebook. Jonathan sighed, inwardly, forcing himself not to respond with irritation. "Something for you?"

"You're still biting your nails." He wagged a finger of his free hand at Jonathan, expression disapproving.

"It's a habit. It takes time to break." He tried to shake off the Joker's grip, to no avail. "I'm sorry, do you want this toxin or not?"

"C'mon, Jonny, don't be so uptight." He sounded…well, sulky. Dear God, this was hilarious. "What's the use in having a toy if you can't play with it?"

"If your toy can help you incapacitate all of Gotham, I'd consider it very useful." It was too bad he wasn't ambidextrous. If he could switch to the other hand and continue writing, the look on the Joker's face would be absolutely priceless.

"Useful, maybe, but not fun." Joker gave Jonathan what was he assumed was supposed to be a seductive look, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the scars, makeup, unwashedness, and psychotic manner. "C'mon, don't you wanna play?"

"Not particularly." So not getting attention made the Joker unhappy. Oh, this was lovely. He had to bite his lips to keep from grinning at the thought of all the ways this weakness could be exploited. Revenge is going to be sweet.

The Joker was still frowning, twitching like an addict going through withdrawal. "What's the problem? It's not like you're straight."

"The fact that I'm attracted to you does not mean that I'm going to throw myself on you at every opportunity." This was so much fun. And wonderful pay back, for all the blows his own self-esteem had sustained. He forced himself to appear serious as he spoke next. "Be logical, all right? The sooner I finish this, the sooner you can mess with me. The more you leave me alone, the sooner I'll be finished. So go find a way to entertain yourself for a few days."

The Joker stood, muttering darkly about ruining the mood, and stalked off.

"Something that doesn't involve broadcasting our location," he added, to the Joker's retreating back.

He was able to reproduce the compound by about six. And there was night, and there was morning, the second day.

About noon of the second day, he looked up from his notes to find the Joker lounging on the floor in front of him, dressed in a lacy negligee.

Despite strong efforts on his part to remain stoic, he was unable to keep from responding. "What in God's name is that?"

"I went shopping yesterday when you told me to get lost," he explained, running a hand over the fabric. "I thought it might draw your interest."

"Er…no." Blushing furiously—the short length of the robe left almost nothing to the imagination—he averted his eyes.

"What, you don't like it? Harley-girl loves it when I dress up in her things."

"If you're trying to turn me on," Jonathan said, avoiding looking at the Joker as one would avoid looking at the opened Lost Ark of the Covenant, "it's probably unwise to remind me of the girl you're cheating on to be with me."

"It's not really cheating." He took in Jonathan's evasive behavior, licking his lips. "What, you're not attracted to me when I'm in a skirt? Or do you wanna try this on yourself?"

"What?"

He shrugged. "Well, you're the effeminate one. And you look enough like a girl already."

It took all of his self-control not to fly into a rage at that. As if he hadn't heard that particular comment about a trillion times growing up. "Look, if you continue to bother me, I won't make any progress. If I don't make progress, I'm going to be in a bad mood. And if I'm in a bad mood, you're not getting anything. No kissing, no holding my hand, nothing. Got it?"

"Fine." He stood—Jonathan made the mistake of looking up as he did and came to the terrible realization that Joker had nothing on under the negligee—and made his way back to the bedroom. "Take all the fun outta life."

"And if you're going to dress in women's clothing, you ought to shave your legs first," Jonathan muttered, shaking his head. He couldn't stay annoyed for long, though. Sexually frustrated Joker was far too amusing to make him too angry.

And there was night, and there was morning, the third day.

He created the new toxin around nine in the morning, happy enough to break his stoicism and kiss the Joker, who'd been hanging around as usual, coming onto him in increasingly less subtle ways.

"This is it, then?" Joker asked once they'd finished making out, holding up the canister and giving it a dubious look.

"Part of it, anyway. The laughing part, I haven't added anything that'll force the victim to smile yet. But I'm almost entirely sure that this will work."

Now he was getting the dubious look. "Almost entirely sure?"

"Well, it's not as if I have anyone to test it on." He glanced at the Joker. "I'm correct in assuming that you don't want to volunteer, yes?" That was what he missed most about being the asylum director; total access to test subjects, twenty-four seven. "I suppose we could go find a victim, or, if you're not adverse to your men being used as lab rats, call one of them up."

The Joker shook the compound like a can of hair spray, running his tongue over his lips in thought. "This is deadly, right?"

"Not at the moment, no. It's a low concentration. It would only induce death in the infirm or a complete coward."

He looked disappointed. "You didn't make it at full strength why?"

"Because I'm not sure if it's right yet. There's no point in wasting supplies if it's not going to work."

"You got an antidote?"

Jonathan took that as a sign that the Joker wasn't about to hand one of his men over. Which made no sense, given the way he killed them off all the time. Perhaps the reasoning was that it was okay when he was the one breaking his toys, or something. "Not at the moment. But that's low enough that it won't cause lasting damage anyway."

"Ah." He tossed the canister into the air, catching it as it came back down. "So, in that case, it's fine if I try this."

And before Jonathan could react, the Joker had him by the hair, dragging him forward. He struggled like a rabid animal, kicking and swinging to no effect whatsoever. To his horror, his head was forced back, like it had been that night in Arkham when the Batman had done what the Joker was about to do, and toxin sprayed in his face. Even with the glasses to shield them, his eyes burned, as did his sinuses as the poison was inhaled, the room seeming to shake along with his body as the effects began nearly at once.