Well, it's been... what? A year? Anyway, I'm posting a lot so that'll probably keep you occupied if you read any of my other stuff. So... where were we? Ah... yes.


Bruce was tensed for action. Every fiber of his being was telling him to roll to the floor and kick the gun out of his intruders hand, even as he shifted his weight to execute the movement the Joker spoke up.

"I hear that showers are coming our way."

Bruce settled back into his seat, propping his feet up on a stool to mask his earlier movement. "Are we really going to talk about the weather or are you going to tell me why you're here?"

The door swung inward to admit Alfred, balancing the tea tray with one hand while closing the door with the other. The gun slid to face the butler as he placed the delicate cups on the coffee table. "You're a business man Bruce, May I call you Bruce?" The Joker didn't pause for an answer, "Good, I think this is the start of a great friendship."

Bruce nearly gagged but the Joker didn't seem to notice.

"And you are successful, and as a successful business man you probably have people who take care of things by using their people who take care of these same things by using their very own people and so on and on to poor little fat John who squeezes into a five by five cubicle every morning to solve the problems of every Janet and Jake in Gotham's booming Wayne enterprises."

Alfred poured tea into Bruce's cup as The Joker inspected the bottle of coke-a-cola that had been placed next to him. Smiling in satisfaction at finding the seal intact, the Joker popped the lid off. And poured a little of the brownish liquid into his china cup.

"So why not go to any of the board members? If it's business you want to talk about, I'm the least qualified to deal with-"

Bruce jumped as the gun went off. "I wasn't finished, did I sound finished?"

Suddenly Bruce felt very vulnerable, there was no mask between him and his enemy. No armor to stop that bullet, chip in his ear to help him hear the advice of Fox or Alfred. He might not come out of this encounter in one piece. And here was the Joker with a gun, since when did the clown use a gun? He was painfully aware o his condition, the broken ribs, the bullet wound, and the pounding headache which was building up it's forces behind Bruce's eyes.

"Don't interrupt me again.

Gordon was pushed to his knees, in fact he wasn't pushed so much as dropped, he didn't think he could walk if he wanted to. In front of him a small brown bear looked soulfully up at him, it's black button eyes gleaming with the florescent white light from above. It's guts lay strewn around it, mixing with the dust from the floor.

"Hey... Mike I know who this guy is." Gordon looked up at the teenager who had spoken. He was skinny, probably weighed less than the firearm he was holding. "We are so screwed."

"Why, Who is it?" Mike was older, his age hard to guess from the scars that criss-crossed his face like a tic-tac-toe board. It was almost fascinating in its ugliness.

"You ain't gonna believe it." The kids gun was shaking, not a good sign when it was pointed at Gordons head.

"Why? Who the hell is it?" Mike stepped forward to peer into his prisoners face. "I don't know him."

"It's the commissioner. You know, the police chief's boss? We're screwed, we are so screwed."

Mike peered closer, and Gordon's nose screwed up to keep the man's breathe out of his body. He was nearly gagging from pain anyway.

"Holy shit! You're right! That's Commissioner Gordon! We've gone and caught ourselves Commissioner Gordon!" Mike laughed and his voice echoed across the high ceiling. Gordon closed his eyes, he had been recognized. There was no hope now, none at all. They were going to shoot him and he would lie like Teddy, bleeding slowly onto the cement floor and then tossed into the closest body of water.

There was a click and Gordon squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.

Please not the face, don't do that to my wife. Just let me be identifiable.

The light was blocked out and Gordon could hear a crunch ad teddy was stepped on, the tiny black eyes had probably cracked.

A warm hand met his shoulder and James opened his eyes with a start to see Mike's unlovely face so close to his own. "You are a true hero, sir."

Speechless, the commissioner looked up at the thug.

"What are you doing Mike, what the hell? Are you a cop? Shit, is this a set up?" The teenager had backed up, swinging his gun around at imaginary cops lurking in wait.

"Shut up Jesse. This man has done the city a great favor today." Mike pulled Gordon to his feet. "I want you to meet the man who killed Batman."

Gordon almost fell to his knees again.

Jesse seemed to be more confused than ever. "He killed Batman?"

"He's the reason we still got jobs tonight. Why do you think the shipment is being moved so soon? It's cause we got no Bat signal in the sky, no shadows but us on the streets. And it's all thanks to you." There was something like hero worship in Mike's eyes.

Jesse had lowered his weapon too. "So.. he's on our side now?"

"Probably always was, he's a cop from the old days. You was probably just playing good to get close to the flying rat right?"

"Ah..." Gordon looked up at the two guns which at any second could be pointed at him. "Yeah, I... I killed Batman."

"C'mon Jesse, the toys can guard themselves, this man needs a drink on me."


I wonder if anybody even remember this story...