"I trust you're ready to tell me where the Batman is hiding."

Arrogance – the source of human kind's fallibility and, one day, its downfall. When blinded by a sense of your own immortality, you stopped looking out for the things that could prove you wrong. You became an easy target. Gordon wasn't aware that he had ever suffered from it; he knew only too well his limits and frailties.

Sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest, the Commissioner eyed Janice Porter with defiant eyes. "No."

A faint blush of red on her cheeks betrayed the DA's anger, despite the cool exterior she fought to maintain. She hadn't been expecting a refusal, hadn't prepared herself for that possibility. She'd walked into Gordon's office with victory already won in her mind. Arrogance. It didn't know how to deal with forks in the track.

"Then you know what's going to happen." The steely glint of determination returned to her eyes and a cold smile twisted her mouth. She was back in control. The forked path had been taken, but the destination was still the same.

Surprisingly, Gordon matched the woman's smile. "Oh, I know what's going to happen, Porter. But do you?"

Prettily sculpted nostrils flared in anger. "This isn't the time for games, Gordon. I gave you a choice, Batman or your career. You've chosen to keep the fugitive's whereabouts a secret, leaving me no choice but to go to the Mayor and inform him of the sort of company you've been keeping. I wonder what else will come up in the inquiry? Christmas cards to Mister Freeze?"

He bore her anger with a quiet patience. Perhaps in time, he could even learn to pity her.

"I've resigned."

For the first time since stepping into the office, Janice seemed to notice the cardboard boxed packed with the Commissioner's possessions that littered the room. She glanced around with sharp movements of her head, taking in the walls stripped of various certificates and the gutted filing cabinets. The colour in her cheeks heightened, spreading like a rash across her cheekbones as her anger rose. This wasn't just a fork in the path, this was a road block. She should have seen it coming.

"What?" was all she was able to manage out of a mouth that threatened to gape uselessly.

His face set so that the new DA wouldn't be able to see how much he was enjoying her helpless expression, Gordon stood and gathered the closest box to his chest. All he wanted to do, now that he had turned Janice's blackmail back in her face, was to leave before he started thinking about what he had actually done. That was something he was hoping to keep from happening for as long as possible.

He walked past the woman without a word. As he neared the door and was starting to think that his exit wouldn't turn out quite as dignified as he'd planned, owing to the fact that he didn't have a hand free with which to open the door, he heard Janice turn to face him. Warily, he half turned back to her.

"You can't just resign," she told him, struggling with the subversion of her carefully laid plans.

If she hadn't been so blinded with the certainty of her own success, she would have seen this coming and prepared for it. Although it hadn't been a sure thing, Gordon had been pretty certain that this move would be an unexpected one to her. He'd been right. He'd been around longer than her, he knew his weaknesses, and he also saw every day the blinkers that people willingly wore in the name of ego defence. She was powerless over him.

"I'm sorry Porter," he said with a sad smile, "but I've never been one for long goodbyes. Look after Gotham for me, won't you?"

With that, he turned and found to his relief that he could get out of the door no-handed just fine by depressing the handle with his elbow and using his shoulder to push the door open. Luckily this movement didn't result in any of his boxed possessions spilling out onto the floor either, enabling him to leave with his dignity in tact as he had hoped. Best of all though, it seemed he had struck Janice Porter speechless.

Arrogance. One day it would cause mankind's downfall, but today it had started one woman on the road to hers.

It wasn't until he was outside, a cool breeze blowing in his face, that Jim Gordon allowed his shoulders to slump. For a moment it was all he could do to just stand there on the steps, clutching his stupid box to his chest with his stupid numb fingers. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. But what else was he supposed to do? She had left him no other choice.

There had been no farewell party, like he might have seen if he lived to retirement age. There was no cake, or nostalgic stories, or fond farewells with promises to keep in contact. He would not be giving a reluctant speech tonight and no one was going to raise a glass in toast to him. His leaving was one of quiet and discretion.

Standing there on the police headquarters' steps, Gordon couldn't remember having ever felt so alone before.

He looked up at the washed-out blue sky and wondered what Batman was doing.

Batman reached across the interior of the car, seized a handful of purple jacket and hauled his passenger firmly back into their seat.

"Stay inside," he cautioned in a rough growl, "We're conspicuous enough as it is."

After the destruction the Batmobile had been subjected to the night it had faced off with Joker's lorry as the clown tried to do away with Harvey, it had been necessary to build a new one from scratch. In a practical nod to Batman's demotion to 'Most Wanted', the new Batmobile was far less conspicuous than its predecessor, although no less heavily armoured. Despite the new covert look, Batman still took care to drive it only at certain times and even then he kept mainly to less frequented side roads.

"Why do you talk so funny?" His unlikely passenger, the Joker asked in extremes of amusement.

Batman chose not to reply. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on the road ahead. He had some thinking to do and he would much rather do it in silence. Not to mention he didn't exactly relish the thought of conversation with the clown. At least the psychic link had gone down again not long after Joker had made his 'proposition'. He didn't think he would have been able to cope with communication being forced upon him at that moment, especially not in the intimate way the psychic link allowed for.

What he really would have liked to do was drop Joker off somewhere – preferably Blackgate Prison – and go about his business alone, but ever since turning up at the penthouse, the criminal had stuck to him like glue. Besides, Batman reasoned, Joker was safer under his watchful eye than out roaming the streets alone. At least this way, he could be certain that no harm was coming to the people of Gotham because of Joker. He only wished that it could be achieved with the minimum of interaction between them.

Joker, however, had other ideas.

Watching the window he had until just a second ago been hanging his head out of, enjoying the breeze, wind smoothly closed at the touch of a button by Batman, he noisily smacked his lips. It had been done thoughtlessly, but noticing the very slight wince this produced in his travelling companion, he did it again. Even louder. Then he stretched leisurely, slipped down in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes turned almost obsessively towards Batman, studying the man's profile. He looked so different with that little mask on. Like a whole other person.

"You know," Joker spoke up in a conspiratorial tone, "there was a time when these cops and mobsters wouldn't dare to have crossed you." The words sounded vaguely familiar to his ears and he thought perhaps he had used a version of this little speech before, but that didn't matter. As long as Bats didn't know it was old material.

"Shut up."

Joker pursed his lips in a hurt pout. "It's no use pretending the problem doesn't exist. Your little friend Gordon used to do everything to allow you to continue playing your games; you could do whatever you wanted. Criminals were running scared. They didn't know what to do with themselves when that bat-signal lit up the sky. You had the run of the place and now…" He glanced sidelong at the Dark Knight and giggled. "Now look at you. You don't use the shadows to inspire fear anymore; you use them to hide in."

"Isn't that your lead you told me about?" Batman cut in stoically. Coasting down a ramshackle street, he nodded to one of the houses further down. The front door had opened and a weaselly face had popped out and was surveying the oncoming vehicle with a look of dread.

Previous conversation forgotten, the clown leant forwards and squinted through the windshield. "That's him."

The man stepped out of the house and, leaving the front door swinging open behind him, made a break for it down the street.

Batman put the car up a gear before pressing down hard on the accelerator. When he glanced at his passenger, he almost could have been smiling, although it was almost certainly a trick of the light. "Then I suggest we go after him."