AN: The chapter title is from the song 'Greensleeves.'

Thanks for the reviews!

The sensible thing to do, of course, would be to run. Run for his life and never look back. Barring that, at least take advantage of the Batman's current state, his attention focused on getting back up,—and how had Jonathan managed to knock him over anyway? The man had to be at least twice his size.—and give him a blast of the fear toxin. Either of those would have made sense. Either of those would have got them to safety quickly, and without too much trouble.

As it was though, Jonathan remained on the ground himself, staring in open-mouthed horror.

It wasn't as if he hadn't come face to face with the Batman before, since being force fed his own toxin in Arkham. He had, repeatedly. But every time, it seemed, no matter how prepared he was for the confrontation, there was that moment of shock, when he was reminded of just how terrifying the man was, that threw him off guard when they met.

Scarecrow was screaming at him to get up and do something, anything, but as fate would have it, the moment he was feeling up to actually taking action, the Batman had pulled himself to his knees, making eye contact. "Are you all right, mi—"

There exist some expressions so strong that even a mask can't conceal them, and the Bat's current look, which very clearly said "Why in the name of all that is good and pure in this world is one of Gotham's Most Wanted in medical drag?" was one such expression. He raised his head a bit higher, no doubt catching sight of the Joker standing behind Jonathan, and looked even more lost. Angry, but lost.

"Jonny?" Joker nudged him with the back of his shoe, voice infuriatingly calm. "Get up dear, it's not polite to sit there gaping at visitors." He took hold of Jonathan's arm, pulling him back up, and Jonathan noticed that despite his steady tone, his hand was shaking. Though that was surely from excitement, not fear.

The Joker took a step back, pulling Jonathan along with him, as Batman stood. Jonathan wondered what sort of a mood the vigilante was in. Their encounters had taught him that there were two basic styles he had; the first, beat the criminal half to death and leave him outside the police station, the second, the try and talk the criminal into surrendering tack. In his experience, it usually depended on how atrocious the crime. Which, given their recent activities, didn't bode well for option two.

"Joker." God, Jonathan had forgotten just how terrifying his voice could be. It wasn't just the deep, rasping voice, but also the rage behind it, so strong that if the Batman were ever to fully let loose, Jonathan had no doubt he'd be dead in seconds. He tried not to shudder. He also noted that he hadn't been addressed, and was stunned with himself for feeling a pang of disappointment for it. What, I'm not a threat? Then again, next to the Joker, everyone paled in comparison.

"My love!" Joker answered brightly, and loud enough to make Jonathan wince. "And suddenly, life is worth living again. How long has it been since we last met, Batsy? It wasn't nice of you to leave me like that, for so long. I thought you'd stopped loving me, I rea—"

"Quiet." Jonathan was unable to keep from shuddering, that time, even with the Joker's melodrama undermining the moment. Honestly, he was acting like a twelve year old with a crush. If this was a typical encounter for them, he'd have hated to see the first meeting. "I am not in the mood to put up with you."

"Touchy."

Jonathan worked up the nerve to take his eyes off Batman for a second, glance back at the Joker. A knife was glittering in the hand not holding his own, laughing gas still strapped to the wrist of the hand that was. Good. At least he wasn't taunting him completely unarmed, which Jonathan wouldn't have put past the clown at all.

"I don't even get a hug?"

If looks could kill, there would be nothing left of the Joker but a pile of smoldering ashes.

"You know, Bats, if you'd just show up when I wanna play, a lotta these deaths could have been avoided. But then, you're always willing to put your needs first, aren't you?"

"Refusing to give into your sick games doesn't make me selfish." He took another step forward.

Kicking a body out of his way first, Joker took a step back in response. "Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep through the night? Newsflash, Batboy, just because you don't kill, doesn't mean there isn't blood on your hands. Actually," he paused, musing, smacked his lips. "It puts more on, in some cases. You really oughta just kill me, you know that? Think of all the lives you'd save."

Is he insane? Well, obviously, but I'd never thought he was this mad. It was one thing to be around the Joker when he was feeling homicidal. That was nothing new, he'd adjusted to it by now. Suicidal Joker, on the other hand, he'd never seen before and never wanted to see again. Though likely, this wasn't suicidal intent at all, and just an attempt to push the Batman over the edge or throw him off guard. Either way, it was incredibly idiotic.

"Just let one of your little Batarangs slip, here." He lifted his hand holding the knife, drawing the blade lightly across his jugular. "I won't mind the pain, you know. If it's you, it's okay. And you can tell the Commissioner it was an accident—"

"Enough." Another step toward them. They took another step back. We're going to run out of hallway eventually, Jonathan thought, the idea increasing his panic slightly. "You're going back to your padded cell."

"Okay," Joker said, with such calm that both Batman and Jonathan could only stare for a moment, stunned. "But only if I get you as a roommate."

Jonathan could see the Batman forcing himself not to sputter in indignation, which would have been highly amusing, he imagined, if imminent doom had not been hovering over him. "I'm not joking."

"Awwww, c'mon Batsy. Don'tcha want me to stay here? What, can't even do your friend this one little favor?"

"We're not friends."

Oh, this is just idiotic. It occurred to Jonathan that really, their entire rivalry was just stubbornness, Batman refusing to break his rule even when not doing so would cause more deaths, and Joker refusing to give up until he corrupted the Bat, equally impossible. It was like a game of Chicken where the cars not only collided, but the drivers tried to keep going after the wreck. Joker might have called it a paradox. Jonathan called it a waste of time.

"Well, now you're just being hurtful. Really, can you blame me for seeking attention elsewhere if that's how you're going to behave? Speaking of which," he took hold of Jonathan's shoulder, pulling the smaller man against him, running his hand through the curls of the wig. "Whaddya think of my new best friend, Bats? Tell, the truth, jealousy's what drew you out, isn't it?"

The Batman's eyes were on Jonathan for one of the first times since this confrontation has begun. "I couldn't care less about your sex life, you psychopath."

"You're not a very good liar." He was caressing Jonathan's face now. "I mean, look at him. Just screams 'lock up your daughters tonight, general, there'll be trouble in the maidens' quarters,' doesn't he? How can you not be jealous of something so pretty?"

I really have become a trophy wife. Fantastic. Batman's eyes were still on him, with was frightening as hell, Joker's reassuring touch aside. He realized he was blushing. It didn't help matters at all when the vigilante addressed him directly.

"Crane?"

"Hmm?" It was all the response he trusted himself to give without his voice shaking.

"You realize he's just using you to get the poison, don't you? As soon as he's bored, you'll be cast aside just like everyone else he uses. Why are you helping him?"

Damn him. Damn him and his ability to take all of Jonathan's concerns and say them out loud. Whatever. He wasn't going to let it get to him. Batman wasn't jealous, obviously, he'd have to be as out of touch with the world as the Joker to think that, but he was hitting below the belt. This was a tactic to divide them, that was all. He was a filthy, vile liar, and nothing he'd said was true, regardless of Jonathan's own doubts. He responded by shooting the Batman a venomous glare as he rubbed his head back against the Joker's hand, like a cat. "I think he's right about the jealous bit, Bat. Man. Honestly, there are healthier ways to work out sexual frustration than running through the city in costume. I'd know, I'm a psychiatrist."

"You're a murderer, thanks to him. When did you switch from research to slaughter?"

Was that supposed to make him feel guilty? He almost laughed. "Oh, about the time you started slacking off at being the city's sworn protector. We've been at this for how long and you're only now catching us?"

"He's using you, you little fool. You're only his newest Dr. Quinzel."

"Nice try, Batsy." Joker smirked, and Jonathan realized his participation in the conversation was likely over. He wasn't a part of this fight so much as he was a bargaining tool, like a child in the most screwed-up custody battle ever. "You don't quite have my finesse with people to make it work, though. Speaking of which, Two-Face is out, and now the whole city's gonna know about your not-so-white lie. Whaddya think of that?"

For a moment, Jonathan thought that the Bat was going to leapt at them, knives and chemicals or not, and beat them to death. Certainly he looked like he wanted to. Thankfully he didn't, though his tone when he spoke was enough to send chills down Jonathan's spine. "I think no one's going to believe a pair of mental patients."

"Oh, they won't have to take our word for it. We taped the whole thing." He took his hand off Jonathan's face, tapped him on the shoulder. "Show him the camera, Jonny."

It was at that moment Jonathan realized the camera was no longer in his hands. Oh, fuck. He was about to alert the Joker to this rather unpleasant fact when the Batman seemed to note something on the floor and knelt down, back up in a few seconds, camera in hand.

"This camera?" He'd never seen Batman smile before. It was absolutely horrifying.

Oh, fuck. He raised his hand, fully prepared to dispense all the toxin in the man's face, if that was what it took, when he felt the Joker grab him by the head, pulling him backwards, and cold, sharp metal pressed against his throat.

"Touch that, Bats, and I'll slit his throat." Jonathan didn't need to see his face to know that he was dead serious. He swallowed involuntarily, the blade pressing against his skin as he did. "Give it to me."

There was a standstill, in which the two stared at each other, Jonathan glancing back and forth as much as he could without moving far enough to shove the knife into himself by accident. He had no doubt that Batman would hand the camera over, that much was a given, considering the man's ridiculous rule, but it could take time, and the Joker did not seem to be in the most patient of moods at the moment. He could fully see him losing interest in waiting and simply stabbing Jonathan, then diving at the Batman with the laughing gas, before he could react and damage the phone.

"Give it to me," the Joker repeated, pressing the knife down hard enough to draw blood. Jonathan bit back a shout. What the hell is taking him so long to make up his mind? Some hero. He never thought he'd see the day when he was counting on Batman to save him.

He turned his head slightly toward the Bat, wincing at the way the knife pushed into his skin as he did. Eyes wide and helpless as possible, he said, voice shaking in just barely feigned terror, "Batman? I think he's seri—" And then moaned in entirely unfeigned pain as the Joker pressed harder.

"He's right. I am. So what's it gonna be, Batman, the camera, or a life?" Lifting the knife slightly, he trailed it across Jonathan's throat again, leaving a long, vertical slice that, despite being shallow, positively poured blood.

"Stop!" Jonathan was just able to keep from jumping at the shout, which was lucky, because if he had, he'd surely have impaled himself. "I'll give you the camera. Let him go."

"I'll let go when that's safely in my hands. Give it to Jonathan," he commanded, stroking the flat of the blade along his captive's throat, with the same gentleness he'd used to caress his face before. Jonathan fought the urge to faint, knowing it would be suicide to do so. He held his hand out, shaking, and watched as Batman moved forward. Don't try anything, he pleaded mentally, as if desperation could cause telepathy. Don't try anything, please. He'll kill me if you do.

To his relief, the Batman did not try anything, merely pressed the camera into his hands, mouth working furiously. Likely he was disgusted with himself for handing it over. Ironic, considering this was the one time Jonathan had approved of his actions.

"Back up," Joker said, his voice slightly softened but still warning. "Now."

He remained where he was for a moment, mere inches between them. Jonathan wasn't sure which of the two scared him most at the moment. All he was sure on was that the defiant glare in the Bat's eyes was making his heart race. If he got stabbed because of this man's pride…it really was like watching a fighting couple. One that fought with knives and bullets.

Then, still silent, the Bat stepped back. Once. Twice. A third time.

Joker reached forward with the hand that wasn't holding a knife, taking the camera from Jonathan's hands. Jonathan sighed, relieved, until he realized the blade hadn't moved from his throat yet. "Joker?"

"Hush dear, the grownups are talking." Jonathan couldn't see his face, but he could imagine the grin there. "You're really that incorruptible, aren'tcha? Willing to let your whole scheme fall to pieces just because one little murderer would get hurt. Some would say that's, uh, noble, I guess. I'd call it stupid."

"Because I'm not a monster like you?"

"That's debatable. Your poor judgment? That's not. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's been fun but I've got a video to deliver to GCN."

"You're not going anywhere."

"Really?" Joker took a step back, dragging Jonathan. The blade pushed against his throat again, though thankfully it was still the blunt side. "And just how do you plan to stop me, Batsy? In case you haven't noticed, I've got the upper hand here."

"You can't keep it forever." He looked past the pair to the doors at the end of the ward. "You'll have to let go of either him or the camera to open those."

He licked his lips. "I think you underestimate me, Bats."

"Just end this, now. I don't want to fight you."

"See, there's that whole sucking at persuasion thing, back again." He took another step backwards, the Batman taking a forward step in response this time. "I happen to like fighting. Love it, actually. Though I suppose now's not the best of times…" He glanced between Jonathan and the camera. "I'm kinda carrying breakable things."

The Batman moved toward them again, and Jonathan felt the blade trace down on of the cuts on his throat, smearing the blood there. He stiffened, eyes wide as he looked at the vigilante. "Look, I'd really rather not be killed." Please.

"Oh, be still, Jonny. I'm not gonna slit your throat." He loosened his grip, just slightly, and Jonathan relaxed, as much as one could relax with a knife still at his throat and Batman nearby. "I am sorry about this, though."

He stiffened again. "About what?"

"Well boys, it's been a blast, but I've got places to go, lives to destroy, that sort of thing."

Jonathan realized what he was going to do about a second before he did it. "Don't—"

And then the knife was away from his throat, hands grabbing by the back and half-shoving, half-throwing him forward, colliding into the Batman. The impact where his body hit the body armor was surprisingly painful; the armor had no give at all, logically, he guessed, given the Kevlar. Before him there was a blur of black armor, dark eyes, and stone wall rushing by as they went crashing into the ground. In the distance, he could hear running, a door sliding open. There was a shout of "Parting is such sweet sorrow!" and a slam. The Joker was gone.

And he was left alone, abandoned, with only a knife, fear toxin, and a very angry Bat beneath him. And, he was fairly sure, a broken heart.

AN: Sorry, I meant to have this up last night, but stupid things like sleep got in the way.

Kudos to whoever knows what the 'lock up your daughters tonight, general, there'll be trouble in the maiden's quarters' line is referencing!

I imagine Batman would be absolutely horrifying to the criminals he faces (excepting those such as the Joker, of course). I imagine even a law-abiding citizen would be frightened coming face to face with him. Fear is a big part of his crime fighting motif, after all. I also don't see Joker as at all suicidal, but getting Batman to kill him would be corrupting the Dark Knight, so if Batman ever killed him, I think he'd be happy. Not that he was serious when he made the offer in this chapter, though, that was him being irreverent.