CHAPTER TWO

AN UNOFFICIAL TEA PARTY

"…How long has it been Steve? Two months? Three?"

"Three months and a half, George. Gotham's a freakin' mess. I bet all those guys who bad mouthed him are biting down their tongues right now."

Two guards walked down Arkham Asylum's halls, side by side, discussing the immense crime wave that had invaded Gotham since a certain caped crusader became public enemy number one. Their eyes didn't bother glancing at the cells they passed by. It was as if the Asylum's patients weren't even there.

Ignore the madness, and maybe it will ignore you back.

"Yeah, but you know what this means don't ya? This city is gonna burn itself down. We can't take care of ourselves. It's fuckin' pathetic!"

"Corrupt cops, helpless politicians, mad criminals…Seems like things can't get any worse."

"Oh, trust me. They can. But they won't as long as we keep all these crazies locked up in their cells."

As George said this, he pressed the safety code that would open a heavy metallic door, giving the two guards access to a patient's cell. Steve furrowed his eyebrows a bit as his co-worker did this, as if something was troubling him.

"Think he'll ever come back? You know. To save us all?"

"…Steve, this city has treated Batman like shit. I wish he would. He probably will. But he really shouldn't. "

"Amen."

A third voice said from inside the cell. The two guards turned their heads only to find the patient they were supposed to escort to the cafeteria sitting on the floor against one of the padded walls of his cell. Curly greenish hair that had been washed countless times, in a foolish attempt of getting rid of its unusual color fell over his face. Although the make-up he was famous for had been prohibited, there still were traces of black around his small dark eyes.

But his scars…Arkham 's staff couldn't get rid of those. They could try to, but they'd never take the clown out of the Joker.

"It's…good to know that we share the same point of view. Georgie."

The madman's eyes looked up at the guards without blinking. His left eye seemed to twitch slightly as he spoke George's nickname, tongue quickly passing over the corner of his mouth.

"You keep quiet clown."

Steve growled before grabbing one of Joker's arms and lifting him from the ground. George held his other arm, tightly enough to stop blood circulation. He didn't like being called Georgie. Especially not by that psycho.

Joker however, seemed to decide to ignore all this.

"You know…We actually have a lot in common." He began, looking up at the ceiling momentarily, as if trying to remember what a terrorist clown and a staff member of an asylum for the criminally insane could possibly share.

"We both enjoy wearing uniforms. Uhm. We both like…Asylums. I mean…Why else would we spend so much time here? Hm?"

The man stared at George, as if actually expecting an answer from the man. But none of the guards answered him. They decided to ignore the clown and just drag him out of his cell, like they were supposed to. The Joker sighed before looking up again and licking his front teeth.

"And we both enjoy…Women. Don't we Georgie? Doctors. In their late twenties…With uhm. Blue eyes. Cupid bowed lips. Blond hair…"

George's eyes slowly widened at the man's description.

"…Wh-who like dogs and…Strawberry ice-cream. Who enjoy staying home on Friday nights, watching chick flicks with their boyfriends who spend the whole movie trying to get some action…But, unfortunately, fail to understand how unappealing they are."

George eyes seemed ready to pop out of their skull as he stared at the man in the straitjacket. The Joker, on the other hand, smiled and waggled his eyebrows at the guard.

"Would be nice to find a girl like that. Wouldn't it Georgie?"

Before Steven could say anything, George had released the clown's arm and punched him across the face, making the Joker lose his balance. Steve tried to steady the man. But his hand slipped away from the clown's arm, letting him fall on the ground.

George gritted his teeth, breathing heavily, like a mad dog, ready to bite someone's head off.

"You stay away from her you freak or I swear I'll break you in two. You hear me?"

Under the guard's angry shouting, the Joker giggled and chuckled, biting his lower lip, as if he was actually trying to keep quiet. Steve sighed and placed a hand on his co-worker's shoulder.

"Calm down, damn it. If the ward knows you've been hitting the crazies again you'll get fired."

Under Steve's comforting touch, George seemed to calm down a bit. He nodded at the other guard… But couldn't help but to shoot a glare at the Joker, who rolled on the floor, trying to get up to a sitting position without the help of his arms.

"Break me…In two. Ohoh…Harvey would love you. Well. Half of him would."

The clown mumbled with a large scarred smile planted on his face. Steve gave his own disgusted glance at the patient but focused on George.

"Lets just drop him in the cafeteria and leave, 'ight? That's all we gotta do here. Nothin' else."

George shifted his eyes between the Joker and Steve before sighing a bit and nodding. Steve nodded back and calmly grabbed the madman's arm again, lifting him up from the floor. George stood there for a couple of seconds. If it were up to him, he would never touch or even cross paths with that maniac again, unless the ward gave him permission to break every yellow tooth on that clown's mouth. But he couldn't. And the Joker knew that. Why else would he be curling his lips at him?

His hand slowly grabbed the clown's arm again, grasping it even harder than before, hoping it would cause bruises on the freak's skin. George hated Joker's guts. He hated him. And he hated the way he talked about Harleen.

They arrived to the cafeteria after a quiet walk through the halls of the Asylum. Steve and George removed the Joker's straitjacket and handed him over to the guards responsible for the surveillance of the cafeteria and every patient in it. Only certain people were allowed to use plates and forks to eat. Joker wasn't one of those people.

The green haired man was handed his plastic tray and ordered to sit down quickly. As if the mere action of standing was threatening. Ridiculous really. But the clown enjoyed all those outrageous and silly rules. It showed just how nervous he made Arkham's staff feel. And the Joker liked to know how the public felt about his work.

His nose wrinkled a bit as he examined the cafeteria. Tables were filled with hysterical or annoying people. Forty percent of those men and women hated the clown's guts. Fifty respected or feared him. And ten percent didn't even know what year they were in. Either way, the only available seat was next to a skinny inmate who simply stared down at his tray, poking the unidentified food with a spoon.

The clown arched an eyebrow. A new nutcase for the Joker to corrupt and manipulate. How refreshing. He lazily dropped himself on the seat next to the dark haired stranger, groaning a bit with pain. His ribs still hurt from the beating one of the guards had given him a couple of days ago. Joker couldn't remember what his motives were…But he did remember biting off one of the man's ear lobes. Ah. That had been a good day.

The man didn't seem to react to Joker's proximity. He was too busy examining the gooey brownish meal in front of him. Nobody knew exactly what Arkham's staff used for their lunches and dinners. Joker had always thought it was a mix of meats nobody else used. Faces, feet, tails and ears…All triturated into one, disgusting meal, filled with spices and aromas that would help the patients keep it down in their stomachs.

The Joker licked his lips while staring at the spoon inside the man's hand. Metal. Strong enough to poke one of the guard's eyes out. If only the clown could get that in his reach. He cleared his throat, preparing to say something to the strange character who sat next to him. But the other man interrupted him before the clown even begun talking.

"Hello Cheshire." Jervis calmly turned his head to look at the Joker. "How nice of you to join me."