Commissioner Gordon stared down at the report on his desk in front of him until it started to blur and lose all semblance of meaning. With a sigh, he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, before putting them back on and looking at the report again. It was still unreadable. He was just starting to think that perhaps he should call it a day and simply go home to his family when the voice spoke behind him.

"Commissioner…"

Gordon immediately lunged across his desk for the pistol he'd recently taken to keeping beneath a pile of papers in his in-tray. Hands shaking so much that he doubted his ability to even shoot straight if the need to defend himself did arise, the weapon jumping disobediently in his fingers, he swung around to confront the impenetrable gaze of the Batman.

"Stay back, or I'll shoot," the Commissioner warned, glad to find that at least his voice wasn't shaking as much as his hands.

It was difficult to tell behind that mask, but the vigilante gave off the impression of having one eyebrow raised. His eyes fixed pointedly on the shaking weapon and then moved up to Gordon's flustered, tired face. "I'm not here to fight you, Commissioner."

Gone was the edgy, uncharacteristic agitation that had so marked Jim's last meeting with the Bat. That evening he had seemed like a whole different person, highly-strung and secretly smiling, but now the Batman stood before Gordon just as he had always stood, an impenetrable force, something carved from stone and given life by Pagan gods. Relaxing a little, Gordon placed the gun back down on the desk, although he left it within plain view and easy reach. Batman typically hadn't moved a muscle, so Gordon politely waved a hand to bid him go ahead and speak. He looked expectantly up at the other wonderfully unfathomable man.

"I wanted to explain what happened the night I was arrested."

"You mean when you tried to kill me?" Jim glanced automatically at the gun, but he didn't believe that he would have to use it now. He didn't blame Batman for not answering, could in a way understand why he just stood there silently with an unreadable expression on his face, so he continued to talk.

"The press have been saying it wasn't really you, you know, that it was some paranoid schizophrenic who thought he was you."

"Commissioner, you should know…"

Gordon held up a hand to silence the crime-fighter. "We'll deal with this later, Batman, right now there's more important things that need to be discussed."

The tension in the room, which the commissioner only just became conscious of, disappeared along with those words. It was back to business as usual. He could almost feel Batman's relief as the other man crossed the room towards him.

"What is it?"

In answer, Gordon pushed the confidential report he had been trying to read across the desk and watched it be picked up by a gauntleted hand.

"It happened last night, early evening. Were you aware of any disturbances at around that time?"

For a moment there was nothing but the rustling of paper to fill the considered silence and then Batman eventually said "No, not that I can recall." He went back to the report, leafing through the thin sheaf of pages. As he read, his face grew grimmer and his jaw clenched. Having read the last page, he set it firmly back down on the desk, his hand left covering it as if trying to contain the situation.

"Why hasn't there been any news coverage about this?"

This slightly irked Gordon, who had fought strenuously to keep the media out of the developing case. His moustache bristled slightly as he answered "We're keeping it all very quiet, there's no point in starting a city-wide panic."

Batman seemed to think about this for a moment, and then he very slowly pushed the report across the desk towards the commissioner. He tapped the paper idly with his index finger, drawing unconscious attention to the red rubber-stamped 'Urgent' across the top. "Do you think he'll strike again?"

"Undoubtedly. This was just a warm-up… If you'll excuse the pun."

"Pun excused. I think it would be best if I went and had a look at the scene myself."

"Batman…" Conscious of the vigilante's frequent disappearing acts, Gordon pushed his chair back quickly and stood, careful to keep the masked man always in sight so that he couldn't escape unseen. "I'm finished for the day; let me drive you down there."

Joker was sitting hunched over a large construction map of Gotham that had been spread out over the carpet, scribbling diligently away on it with a red pen, when he suddenly realised how cold he felt. In fact, he was freezing.

He slowly laid the pen down next to a chunky, half-coloured in 'X' he had drawn over Gotham Airport and glanced over to the window of his flat. The curtains still hung in tatters from where he had attacked them with a knife a couple of nights ago, but the window was firmly closed and fully in tact, so he wasn't getting a chilling breeze from there. Unable to keep from shivering a little, he rolled his shirt sleeves down from where they had been neatly folded to above his elbows and buttoned the cuffs. He couldn't remember ever having been so cold. It was this poxy little flat, the heating must have broken.

Plans abandoned because of the frailties of the human body and the negligence of lazy landlords, Joker retrieved his coat from where it had been flung earlier across an armchair. Bundling himself up in it, the cold dragging itself up and down his bones with skittering claws, he wandered over to the apartment's radiator and inspected it. His hand held to its rusty metallic surface, he could tell that it was on, but the heat seemed to have no effect on him. He remained irreparably cold, and as if that wasn't enough, he was starting to develop a headache.

Logic would dictate that this strange chill had been brought on by the evening Joker had spent out in the rain, but the Clown Prince had never been one to trust logic. Sprawling in his armchair, burying his nose in the musty folds of the coat that was failing to warm him, he placed all the blame squarely on the Batman. Batman was behind this current misfortune, there was no doubt about it. Closing his eyes, he could even see the masked figure, as plainly as if he had been standing right in front of him. The bat was standing in a spot Joker recognised, staring out at a frozen body of water… and that was when Joker realised the psychic link was up and running once again…

The sun was beginning to set in a watery sky as Commissioner Gordon parked his unmarked vehicle just on the outskirts of the police barricade around Gotham River. He opened the door promptly and stepped out, glad to be free of the intense atmosphere of the car. He'd never realised before how trying time spent with the Batman was, due to the fact that they usually spent a few minutes together at most. The man had hardly spoken a word on the journey, not that Gordon would have expected anything different from him. He busied himself with polishing his glasses whilst Batman got out and walked around to join him.

Together, but in silence, they crossed the discreet police borders and walked to the banks of the river. Gordon had already seen the sight once this morning and some progress had been made in clearing up since then, but it was still distressing to see the mighty waters of the river frozen solid. There was a discarded shopping trolley sticking up in the centre of the ice, like some bizarre flag of conquering victory. Beside him, he heard Batman draw in a sharp breath.

"Incredible," the masked vigilante murmured in his deep-throated growl. He advanced upon the stretch of ice and knelt down beside it, placing a gauntleted hand on its glittering surface. "Completely frozen." The fingers of his glove came away tipped with frost and he inspected them closely, although Gordon knew there was nothing unusual to be found. Police tests run on the ice that morning had returned with nothing more useful to report than it was just normal, average ice. Just one dead end after another…

It took a few moments of expectant silence before he realised that Batman had asked him a question and was waiting for an answer, watching him from over his shoulder.

"Sorry, I was miles away."

"You look tired, Commissioner. You should go home and get some rest."

"No, I'm perfectly alright."

Batman made a sound that just might have been a disbelieving grunt and turned back to his contemplation of the frozen river. "So the perp behind this is calling himself Mister Freeze?"

"Yes."

"Another gimmicked madman who thinks he can take on my City." The crime-fighter stood up and dusted off his hands in a derisive manner. "He'll probably get in touch with us sooner or later to make his demands."

"If his plans are as original as his name then we can expect that to be soon." Gordon turned from his vigil of the street behind him with a wry smile on his face, only to find that Batman had disappeared. "Was it something I said?" the Commissioner appealed to thin air with weary humour. The ice crackled slightly under the city's fluctuating temperature, but made no further comment.