Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, DC does. I also do not own a nursery rhyme.
A/N: DarkandStormynight-deadly sins: Thank you for wanting to make it more personal. And thank you for enjoying this story so much to do that!
meganshmegan: Calling Bonnie an interesting character made my heart swell. Thank you! …Harley does need more love in this story, doesn't she? :/
ClownPrincessofCrime: I feel like readers barely get the perspectives of henchmen, so I wanted to focus on Kenny for a little bit. :)
And our guest is…
Bonnie moved the hair out of her face. Lashing out on the comforter to get off the bed, her heartbeat escalated. Questions immediately circled her head. Who now? What just happened? Did something happen downstairs? Harley or the hyenas didn't break anything, like a window. What, was this how the boss tried to wake everyone else up?
…But it was night. The henchmen could not be allowed to sleep as much. Why didn't Larry tell her that? She would have practiced waking up suddenly! Oddly enough, however, the bang sounded more…grand than it should have been. Too ominous. Too alarming.
And it was…night.
A terrible sensation walked up Bonnie's spine. Was it him?
Oh, NO! Bonnie thought. I don't want to get beaten to a pulp! I can't go to jail! I can't go to the asylum, either!
Bonnie rolled off the bed and sprinted towards the window. She pushed it up.
Maybe it was possible to jump out of there. But how long was the fall?
She hesitantly poked her head out. The concrete below didn't seem to be so distant from the window, so the low jump didn't look so bad. She could probably escape in no time.
Despite her luckiness, however, sweat came out of Bonnie's eyes again. She hurriedly wiped it off.
Okay, I'll just get my costume…
Bonnie nodded to her own thoughts. She hastily turned around, and an image made her jump out of her skin.
It was her boss. He was so lost in the shadows that he could have easily been mistaken for an object. The boss' unflinching grin said it all, and his eyes flashed crimson.
"Kid, we have company!" the Joker, with all of his mirth, exclaimed. He was so loud that the Batman probably heard him. Of course, the Joker didn't care. He wanted Bats to find them, and the Joker was ready for some action.
Unfortunately, the kid didn't look prepared at all. In fact, she looked completely panicky!
The Joker tsked. Now that wouldn't do!
A darker smirk tugged at his lips. He slipped towards Bonnie, whose unconscious instinct made her back up against a wall. She hugged her shoulders cagily.
"Is it him?" asked Bonnie, her lip trembling. She didn't know why she asked such a dumb question in front of her superior. Needless to say, the Joker gave an out-of-focus snigger.
His hand, which was less cold than usual, bound at her neck. Bonnie's heartbeat crashed in her ears.
"B-boss?"
The Joker chuckled, "This is going to hurt, kid."
The naïve bewilderment in Bonnie's eyes was washed out by dilated dread. And when the eating darkness struck at her face, she knew she would be a goner soon.
Some sands of glass rained over the giant entity that burst through the grand window. He swerved through the main room of the hideout, and the Batman squinted his eyes.
He had time. Even if only days had passed since the girl was taken, the Joker still could have warped her already emotionally unstable mind significantly. All bets were off if Bonnie Hatch happened to idolize the clown. To anybody, simply being curious about him could cause a good deal of psychological damage. It was why Harleen Quinzel, other than Gordon, was the Joker's worst victim.
Batman glanced up. His ears were cursed by an unexpectedly soft song.
Hush, little Ringlet, don't say a word.
Papa's gonna buy you a, he, HE, ha, ha, a nice, big bomb.
And if the bomb does not fuse, ha, he,
Papa's gonna make the Batman bruise.
And if the Batman does not croak,
Papa's gonna make the Bat-Clan broke.
And if the family does not bawl,
Papa's gonna make the city crawl.
And if the city does not cry,
Papa's gonna make the whole world-ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha-AHAHAHAHAHA-YAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Holding a jet black rod with "helicopter" blades whistling, the Joker flew into the "family living space." The top hat on his head eclipsed his gleeful face. Red, black, and white clothing suspended on the Joker's shoulder, and his arm trapped a figure hidden underneath his wine coat.
The unfortunate girl's shadowed face was barely in view, but her strains of dead red hair were. Her small feet swayed as her captor kicked his leg in the air.
"Bats!" the clown welcomed. "A week finding a hostage-that's a new record!"
Batman responded by throwing a Batarang at the man, but he was careful not to hit the child. The Joker dodged it with no problem, though the lower part of his coat wasn't as lucky.
He shook his head at his ripped clothing.
"Yeesh, Bats!" he laughed. "Your aim makes me trust a child to hit the target! Wouldn't you agree, little one?"
The girl, impolitely enough, didn't answer. Having no support, her head limply drooped downwards. Batsy's eyebrows furrowed.
"I think she said no!" the Joker giggled. He edged closer to the former window.
"Let her go, Joker," Batman calmly said, yet he had an unfamiliar level of wrath boil inside him. The Joker gasped derisively, almost dropping the young "damsel in distress."
"Do you think that I would drop this frail, harmless child at this height?" he hollered, putting his chin on the unaware girl. Bonnie hummed dreamily, but that stopped as quickly as it began.
True, they weren't stories above the ground, but a fall could break more than a couple of bones. Batman gritted his teeth.
"You sicken me," the Joker continued. "I thought you were the good guy! A boring, brooding one, but still the hero! I thought I was the villain that the readers loved to hate! You certainly won't be popular among the fan-base NOW!"
Giggle. Laugh. Hoot.
Batman ignored the man's insane mannerisms. He promptly got out his Bat-Lasso, spun it around his head, and whipped it at the Joker. It caught his leg.
Still, the psychopath leered slyly. Batman pulled the rope, and the truth revealed itself very quickly.
It wasn't the Joker's leg he caught. It was a fake, wooden leg; his shoe and a rainbow striped sock were over the wood.
"That will never get old!" said the Joker. Laugh. Batman suppressed a snarl.
The Joker flew closer toward the window, "I would stay and have a LONG conversation with you about your errors in the past week or so. However, my hands are full at the moment! I bid you farewell, my dear adversary! Tell the fried Bird-Brain my crowbar said hello!"
He craned his head out and blew a kiss out to the Batman, whom clenched his teeth at him. Just like that, the Joker zipped out of warehouse.
In the dark outdoors, he grinned at another individual below him.
"WEEEEEEEEEE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HE-HAAAA!" the Joker laughed. "So long, baby girl!"
"PUDDIN'!" Quinn.
"Sorry, kiddo! This flying machine can only fit TWO! HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HAAAAAA!"
The Joker faded away with all of his howling joy. The hyenas wailed at Harley Quinn's calls for Mistah J.
With a beat of his cape, Batman rushed out of the large warehouse doors. Lightly pelted by the rain, he turned to all sides to find Quinn. He quickly spotted the kneeling woman meters away.
Her jester hat had water pouring off both ends; the light rain bounced off the hyena's soaked coats. The animals nuzzled and circled Quinn, acting as her safety blankets from the mean grouch nearby. There was even a literal blanket on the woman, which soaked up the rain and her blubbering tears.
"Get 'im, sweetums," Harley shivered. She couldn't bring herself to stand up, being exposed to the elements and all. Harley stayed underneath the building's shade most of the time, yet the rain still got all over her.
At one point, Puddin' gave her a big blanket. He immediately poured a bucket of ice water on her afterwards. Remembering that, Harley covered her red nose.
At least he gave her a blanket. That was really nice of him! It was pretty wet, but she felt the warmth of her Mistah J on it. Her Mistah J.
Harley held onto her blanket, but she gave the Bat an almost comical scowl. The hyenas' eyes sagged, but their eyes sparked determination. They limped toward their mistress' enemy. Bud was faster than Lou, but he was the first to collapse into a deep slumber. Lou was next.
Harley gasped. Sighing, the Dark Knight stepped over the animals to see the woman shakily putting up her fists. Her eyes still had a bright light in them.
"It's over, Quinn. You know it."
It was almost an hour later, and there seemed to be no sense of life within Gotham's police department. While it appeared that way, the building was not vacant.
In a desolate room (with only a medium-sized table and chair), a woman checked her nails. She was given an ivy-green blanket. Harleen Quinzel insisted to keep her damp one, but that was snatched away from her.
Outside the room, two silhouettes talked.
"She's not talking. I tried."
"I'll handle it."
"What happened to him?"
"Gone."
"And the girl?"
"Gone."
One of the two people opened the door. The lady crossed her arms at the opener with a huff.
"Quinn: what has the Joker done to the girl?"
In a tiny, ratty bed, a young girl in red pajamas lay motionless. She didn't know where she was; she couldn't think at all. A bruise bulged on almost half her face, and the thoughtlessly put-on mask failed at concealing it.
The girl's shoes were thrown to the side. Her hair was sprawled on the gray pillows, and her costume jacket touched her red hair strains. The rest of her costume lay on her knees. The essential piece of her costume, what made her the fiery dissenter, was not there.
Elsewhere, in another room, a man chucked crumpled-up blueprints and papers at a black top hat. He only got one in.