"Stand away from the doors, tasers at ready!" the booming voice of Aaron Cash echoed off the reinforced walls of Maximum Security. All along the wing the emergency doors had been sealed and every guard had weapons at the ready, but this was no emergency, there was no lock down and no cause for panic. This was the standard procedure whenever the patient asked for anyone; full lock down for the rest of Max. Sec. All security personnel armed and at the ready and the entire Asylum on full alert.
The heavy steel security door was ratcheted back first, then the primary cell door was unlocked by the joint efforts of Dr. Arkham and Cash, who both provided finger print scans, ocular scans, and a voice recognition code in order to deactivate the cell alarms. Finally the primary door was opened, revealing the last door, a bullet proof glass view window much like the ones that were used to contain the other patients in the Max. Sec. wing.
Behind the glass he sat, free as a bird, straight jacket balled up under his bum to be used as a cushion, playing cards laid out in front of him in a game of traditional solitaire. The jacket was supposed to be inescapable, and the clown wasn't allowed to have any foreign objects in his cell. Regardless, this was how he always was; jacket off, cards out, usually within thirty seconds of being locked away.
"Mister Cash informs me that you asked to speak with me."
"Aaaw, Jer, you make it sound so formal!" the clown crooned in a croaking, amused tone. "C'mon, we're just a couple'a guys havin' a little talksie!"
He sprang to his bare feet, and rubbed his hands together like a business man about to give a pitch; sensing the diatribe coming Jeremiah Arkham rolled his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back. "All right, Clown, out with it!"
The Joker smiled, or perhaps he was just looking at Arkham straight faced, with that permanent grin on his face it was hard to tell. The gaunt, ashen faced prisoner lifted a hand to speak, then his finger wilted like a flower and confusion crossed his features.
"Er... Out with what?"
"What do you mean what! Out with it!"
"What?"
"What what!"
"Jer, I didn't know you were British!"
Arkham grated his teeth, letting out a growl like irate bulldog. The clown stared at him for a moment, then he grinned.
"Woof."
"WHAT DO YOU WANT!"
"Calm down, Jerry, sheeze, you're going to pop a blood vessel!" J exclaimed, clasping his hands to the top of his head, weaving his fingers through his wild green hair while giving Dr. Arkham a mortified stare.
Arkham took a seething breath, then let it out more calmly. "What is it, that you want, Joker?"
"Right!" Joker cried, as if reminded of a topic of discussion he'd lost track of. "I've got a question, Jer; see, I've been hearing some crrrrraaaaaazy rumors lately—crazy rumors in the crazy house, whoda thunk it, eh—anyhoo; these rumors Jer, they're kind of shocking!"
He crept closer to the glass of his sell, wide eyed, glancing back and forth then looking suspiciously at the guards as if they were trying to find out his secrets.
"I hear," he whispered conspiratorially, "that you let Pamela Isley out of this place, of your own free will no less!"
"And?" Arkham replied irritably
"And! What and? There is no and, there should never be an and! Poison Ivy; free, loose, ex-filtrated from the area! I can't make it anymore simpler than that, Jer, and YOU'RE responsible!"
"Miss Isley completed a full medical evaluation, has shown model behavior for months, and has shown considerable remorse for her previous actions; all things you have failed to do on any occasion. If you're upset that she's free and you're no-"
Jeremiah's words were cut off by a chortle hiss that rolled into a long throaty chuckle. "Jealous? Jer, Jer, Jerry-boy! The only thing I'm jealous of is how easily she played you," leaning in close and dropping his voice to a whisper again the Joker locked eyes with Jeremiah Arkham as he spoke, "doesn't it all seem just a touch familiar? Bet it's in the back of your mind, isn't it? Chewing away like a happy little earwig! Hohoo, oh Jerry c'mon man, wake up and smell the Ivy!"
Arkham rolled his eyes and turned away. "I don't have time for this, Joker, I have paper work to do."
With a crash that caused trained guards to flinch in alarm the Joker threw himself against the glass, his body pressed up against the surface like a jumper to pavement after a 30 story fall. "DON'T turn your back on me, Jerry; right now I'm the only one on your side."
Arkham slowly turned back to him, his face emotionless, completely unfazed by the psychotic clown's outburst. "Then stop teasing and start talking, clown."
The Joker's permanent grin managed to curl into a brief snarl of disgust at the Doctor's poor since of humor, then he heaved a dramatic sigh and pulled away from the glass. "Fiiiiine... Forget I said anything."
He turned his back to them, looking into his cell and waving a dismissive hand. Arkham sneered and turned on his heel once more, only to be stopped by another outburst.
"It's just," the Joker began in a mournfully melodramatic style befitting of an over-acting Shakespearean, "doesn't it just tug at the old memories... brilliant young psychiatrist, dangerous criminal who appeals to her since of conscience? Now she insists that criminals reformed, changed for the better, ready to help the world!"
The joker whirled around to fave Arkham and the guards once more, provoking the security personnel to grip their stun batons tighter.
"She's stealing my bit Jerry."
"Is she now?" Jeremiah replied dubiously. "Is that what upsets you... Or is it that she stole the doctor whom you first used that ploy upon?"
The Joker's expression soured intensely, as though someone were feeding him a whole bag of lemons. With a victorious smirk a chuckle emanated from Dr. Arkham's throat, a laugh worthy of the clown himself. "Yes, yes, I thought so. It must be hard, seeing Ms. Quinzel reform herself and run off with Ms. Isley, leaving you here... with no one to laugh at your pathetic attempts at humor. Well, fear not, Joker. I'll laugh... but it will most likely be at you, rather than with you."
The guards around him were staring at Arkham as if he were as mad as the man locked behind the glass, he had to be to talk to The Joker that way!
The Clown Prince himself was staring too, his eyes boring into the doctor's in silent malcontent, no trace of a real smile on his face, just the sickly permanent grin he wore where ever he went. All of Gotham feared him, even the other Rogue's feared him. The straw stuffed Master of Fear himself would stand aside when the Joker entered a room; but not Jeremiah Arkham. He was one of only two men in the city who could look the Joker in the eye without blinking, who could stare into the face of madness itself and never break into a sweat.
"Good night, Joker." Arkham nodded at Aaron Cash and the guard captain gave a signal to begin resealing the cell as Jeremiah turned and began to walk away.
"Oh JERRY!" The clown called out. This time Arkham kept walking, ignoring the mad man's taunts.
"Jerry, Jerry, quite Contrary, don't you want to know?" Arkham continued walking as the Joker called and shouted after him while the guards began to security checks before resealing the criminal clown's cell.
"Jer... What day was it?"
Dr. Arkham finally paused. He didn't turn around, but he had stopped moving. The Joker grinned again, looking at Cash through the glass. The guard captain glowered back at him but held up a hand for his men to pause the check.
"Think about, Jer... What day was it? What day... was she released?"
"April 22nd." Arkham replied tersely, finally glancing back over his shoulder to glare at the Joker out of his peripheral vision. "So what?"
"Weeeeell, I Don't know." the clown prince replied with a cheeky smile and a simpleton's shrug. "Maybe you should ask the Calendar man...Eheh.. hehe.. Hehehahahahaaaa!"
With a dismissive flick of his wrist towards Cash the doctor continued down the hall and the guards resumed the process of re-securing Joker's cell.
Arkham stalked the halls of his hospital the way the Crusader would stalk the city's rooftops. His coat fluttered at his ankle's as the Knight's cape would and the glares he gave anyone who dared look at him could of rivaled the Bat's own. Even when he reached the privacy of his office and slammed the door shut his foul temper remained. Each step through the room was like a predator's, prowling to his desk to paw through the papers, casting aside reports, observations, forms and recommendations as he sought out his quarry.
With a victorious huff he finally yanked his daily planner out from under the heap of papers over flowing across his desk. With fingers flying he jumped back through the past few weeks until he found Isley's release date. April 22nd; it was Earth Day.