Disclaimer: I do not own Batman. All rights go to Detective Comics.
A/N: Hey, everyone! Thanks for clicking in, and special thanks to Nutella and TheClownPrincessofCrime for reviewing!
The key was taken out of the hole in the knob, and Bonnie saw the Scarecrow slyly lock in the two lock bolts from behind. The Joker hooted when the other man finally clamped down another lock handle in the darkness.
"Gee, Spooks, for someone that controls fear, you sure are paranoid," the Joker said, tapping a finger on his chin. The Scarecrow scowled as he turned.
"Paranoia can be quite useful," he said, "especially against unwanted visitors."
"Like Bats?" said the Joker. The other man rolled his eyes.
"Yes," he said, his voice becoming irritably monotone, "like Batman."
With that, his finger moved to the light switch and flicked it, and Bonnie's eyes began to burn when a small lamp ball above her flared. Her eyes adjusted to see that they were in an almost cramped hallway that was all brown and shadow. The two stairways going upwards were covered with cobwebs and dust, but the staircase going down was marked by a bleak light far down it. The light highlighted the white flies and blackened wood.
"The floor downstairs holds most of my chemicals and experiments," continued the Scarecrow, pointing there, "along with my office. We can discuss matters there."
The Joker laughed, "Oh, so formal of you, Spooks! And while we 'discuss', you can get to know more of my favorite little helper!"
Bonnie tried not to wince at how the Joker eyed unpleasantly at her. Even the Scarecrow chuckled at her expense.
"Of course," he said. He looked at Bonnie. "I do not believe we have been formally acquainted, after all."
Bonnie's stomach flopped as the Scarecrow stepped toward her, holding out a hand.
"The world knows me as the Scarecrow, but you may call me Dr. Jonathan Crane, if you'd like," greeted the Scarecrow. Bonnie tried to look at him with as little emotion as possible, and she warily gave him her hand. It felt very cold.
"My...my name is Bonnie," said the girl, hoping she didn't sound like too much of an idiot. "It's good to meet you, doctor."
Bonnie's mouth clamped after speaking, but the Scarecrow wasn't too annoyed at that. In fact, he looked at her in what seemed to be either interest or amusement.
"Funny," murmured the Scarecrow. "The girl you're looking after has more manners than you do, Joker."
The Joker crossed his arms.
"Don't start on me, Spooks," he said. "You should be lucky that I included you in on our fun."
"And you should also be lucky that I let you in here. Now, I can show you the toxins and discuss them with you—" His eyes darted to Bonnie. "—or we can cut this meeting short."
The Joker pouted.
"You're such a party pooper, you know that, doc?" he said. He waited a beat before huffing. "Oh, well. Lead the way, Spookster."
The Scarecrow cringed as he walked away from the girl beside him.
"Please don't call me that," said the man. The Joker simply laughed before giving Bonnie a sly wink. Before she could have responded, he tugged her in the Scarecrow's direction.
Bonnie slid across the wooden floor as the Joker wrenched her to the staircase and into the stairway's black hole. She gulped and began to trip over the creaking planks that she couldn't see. Her boss was gripping her arm so tightly that it was becoming numb, and her ears had muffled out the over-the-top, ghost-like sounds that her boss was making.
The tripping seemed to go on forever until Bonnie's feet met more level flooring, and the walking stopped in front of what seemed to be a barrier. Bonnie's ears finally made out a light twist of a knob there, and what was in front of her turned darker with the opening of a door. Then, her ears caught the flick of a switch, and the lights illuminated the room with green and yellow. Shelves of beakers and tube sets stared at Bonnie as she stepped into the room, and the smells from the chemicals on the shelves only made her more anxious. Still, even though they made the room feel heavy, the area was strangely bare, and only a desk and a lab table made up the rest of it.
"Aw, what cute chemistry sets!" exclaimed the Joker. He let go of Bonnie's arm, but Bonnie paid little attention to the blood rushing back to it. She instead wondered how badly the Scarecrow took that comment, but his next words seemed calm, with an undertone of anger.
"I have several products that may suit your needs," said the Scarecrow. He loomed over the shelves. "They're the most efficient I have, but you'll have to pay the price, if you want the best."
"Oh, of course, doc!" the Joker said. "But I simply want a strong, standard batch."
Squinting his eyes, the Scarecrow did not try to hide his annoyance that the Joker wanted a 'strong' batch when all of his batches were strong. Nevertheless, he scanned the shelves, tapping his chin as he did.
"A strong, standard batch…" he murmured, his fingers looming over a row for a moment. "Ah, here it is."
His hand caught a corked flask filled with a greenish-brown liquid, and the Scarecrow finally walked to the Joker and Bonnie, displaying it with cold flair. The girl watched him swirl the flask.
"Product #127," the Scarecrow said. "Simple, yet has more effectiveness with people with more complex fears than others. A more complicated individual can react to this as easily as a simpleton can react to plain phobias, which would mean that even the Batman can fall to his knees with this."
The Scarecrow's chest heaved with pride at this, yet the Joker just chuckled in response.
"Good, then," he said, his face lighting up with anticipation. "How much?"
"Six," the Scarecrow said. The Joker's grin faltered somewhat, yet he still beamed and put his hand in his side pocket.
"Honestly, Batman should also arrest you for con-artistry, at this rate," said the Joker, still with the content look on his face as he pulled the money out for him. "But I'll give you three for now, and I'll give you the rest next week."
The Scarecrow angrily snorted.
"By that point, the Bat will have you in a straitjacket," he snapped, taking the wad, "and you probably put counterfeit in this."
Smirking, the Joker shrugged innocently.
"Maybe a little," he said, anticipating the other man's rage, "but at least I'm being honest."
Trying not to reach into his shoe for his knife, the Scarecrow growled at the man's insolence. Still, the Joker had been much politer and reasonable than he usually was, and there had to be some sort of valid reason for that—even if the Joker never seemed to have a valid reason for anything he did.
"I need real money now, Joker," he said, his face boiling. "Don't you have more in your car?"
The Joker thought about it for a moment, until he finally broke out into a bigger—and more sinister—smile.
"Actually, I think I might have kept a good chock of it in there," said the Joker, his eyes gleaming. Flashing red, they shifted to Bonnie.
"Kid, why don't you stay down here with Mr. Scarecrow, while I get the money?" he said, his fake baby voice bubbling. "I'm sure he'd love your company."
Bonnie's insides shriveled, and the Scarecrow, unexpectedly, laughed.
"I'm sure I would," he chuckled. Bonnie bit back a shiver, and she felt the Joker move away from her, toward the entrance.
"Well, you two have fun! I'm just going to slowly inspect the car for the money, and then we'll be out of your hair in no time, Spooks!"
The Scarecrow raised an eyebrow at the Joker's laugh, and the green-haired man shut the door. With that, the Scarecrow turned to the girl, and he mused to himself.
Of course, he had quickly realized before that the Joker had set the two of them up just to push the girl out of her comfort level, and the Scarecrow couldn't help but respect that the boorish clown was at least using some fear tactics against the girl. Nevertheless, he was still annoyed that he had to be in the presence of a child for more than twenty minutes since the Scarecrow knew that the Joker would take his sweet time getting the money. There was at least the silver lining that he had the opportunity to discover what this girl—Bonnie Hatch, he recalled—was like in person, and so far she hadn't been disappointing.
Clearing his throat, the Scarecrow said, "Your employer must enjoy putting you in...uncomfortable situations, doesn't he?"
Bonnie felt her head rushing at the leading question. She didn't want to put her boss in a negative light by saying yes, but it was still the truth. Then again, considering she was alone with another rogue, she didn't have the heart to be directly honest.
"I...don't think I can answer for him...on that, doctor." As quickly as she finished talking, Bonnie had no idea whether or not she should have regretted saying something so vague, and the Scarecrow's laugh only made her question that even more.
"You're just avoiding the question," the man said, "but if I were young and in your predicament, I would probably do the same."
Bonnie couldn't help but give him a questioning look, so the Scarecrow elaborated.
"I realize that you do not wish to implicate yourself, even for saying the truth," he said, before smirking. "For all we know, after all, he could be eavesdropping outside."
Bonnie contained her shudder when the Scarecrow glanced at the door beside them, but barely. She needed to have a poker face, but he was getting better at reading her by the second. Even that fact alone nearly made her break face, and it didn't help knowing that he was a man that relished in people breaking face.
Still, Bonnie nodded slightly—slightly enough for only him to notice—in agreement. The Scarecrow used that as permission to continue.
"Yes, he very well could be," said the man, his glasses dead on his face, "and that thought wouldn't only just pain you. Anyone with a brain would need a healthy dose of fear if they were trapped with him."
The Scarecrow stopped to lean in.
"But fear tends to consume people in...these types of situations, wouldn't you agree?" he asked. "I know you do. Not the healthy type of fear in the form of reasonable suspicion, but something else that overcomes...a primal type."
Feeling uncomfortably pressed by this question, Bonnie slowly nodded. She was barely ever hit by questions like this by anyone. It felt almost too analytical and even mature for her, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"So you would agree that you yourself are consumed by this fear, yes?" asked the Scarecrow. "Like the rest of society would be, in your shoes."
Contempt all over his face, the man's eyes bored into hers, waiting for a spoken answer. Bonnie wasn't sure how she was going to respond, but she did, anyway.
"I'm...like everybody else, doctor," said Bonnie, eyes steadying on the Scarecrow's face. "Yes."
The Scarecrow considered that reply for a moment, until his eyes unexpectedly brightened. Without that dullness from before, they looked stark white.
"That's interesting for you to say that," he said, "but what about someone like me?"
Bonnie's breathing cut itself off.
What do I say to that? she thought, heart stalling. He'll kill me if I say the wrong answer!
The girl was near hyperventilation as she tried to think of something to say. Possibilities swarmed in her head until her mouth just let one thought come out.
"You're...different," said Bonnie, in a whisper. "You control fear."
As soon as she said that, Bonnie hoped that the man would take that as flattery and not kill her. Luckily for her, he did.
"That's true," said the Scarecrow, smirking, "but it's funny that you don't view yourself as above society, in that respect. After all, your ally is one of the most powerful criminals in the city, and you've been causing chaos for quite some time before you even met him, if the Joker's speech in that circus was correct. Wouldn't you view yourself as something better, especially with your experience and your advantage?"
Bonnie froze at the thought, even though she knew the answer. She never thought of herself as being at his level—and especially not the boss' level—as a criminal. It would have been narcissistic and stupid for her to even consider that; after all, she messed up part of her first heist in the public eye. She let her fears get in the way of executing a part of her boss' plan perfectly—just like every terrified person would have been in that situation.
She shook her head.
"No?" the Scarecrow said. "Well, that's certainly interesting. I would have thought that the Joker would have liked an apprentice with a god complex—or with little self-doubt. Or fear."
Bonnie's shoulders tensed at the last few words, which the Scarecrow—capitalizing on his psychoanalysis—noticed immediately.
"I suppose he must have been impressed with you on some other level then, to want to take you under his wing. After all, you do seem to be at least somewhat efficient, and pride and dishonesty do not seem to get in your way…"
By that moment, the doctor's eyes darkened—not to their original hue, but to a borderline grey.
"Still," the man murmured, "your personality make me wonder why exactly your employer wants you around...and my chemicals."
The words were about to dawn on Bonnie until the stairs creaked, and the door collided with the wall.
"All right, Spooks! I got your little green bills, and they were definitely and absolutely not stolen from the apartment next door!"
The Scarecrow grimaced when he turned to see the Joker posing outside the entrance, fanning a wad of green on his face.
"I would hope not," he replied, as the Joker strode toward him. "I wouldn't appreciate the police visiting an area so nearby."
"Of course not, doc! That's why I explicitly said that I didn't!"
Rolling his eyes, the Scarecrow took the money from the other man, while watching Bonnie. She looked a shade paler.
"So are you sure you can't come?" said the Joker, sounding like an overly polite schoolboy. "It'd be fun to have all the losers together for a little hurrah."
He leaned toward the Scarecrow and batted his eyes for added effect, but the Scarecrow just looked at him in stoic disgust.
"I'll see what I can do," he said, "but you can all have fun with...whatever you want to do. I have a schedule, too, you know."
For a short second, the Scarecrow glanced at Bonnie, who looked at him in slight confusion.
What does he mean by that? she thought. Who is the boss talking about?
"Oh, come on, doc!" urged the Joker, breaking Bonnie out of her thought. "How can you possibly have a busy schedule when you haven't publicly killed anybody in five months?"
"Two months, but that's none of your business," snapped the Scarecrow. "And like I said, I'll see what I can do."
The Joker made a "hmph" noise at that.
"Fine," he said, "but I'll welcome you with open arms, even if you decide to come at the last minute. I'll even give your little potions back to you, honest!"
The look on the Scarecrow's face was annoyed as the other man talked, yet that last comment made his face fall in surprise.
"Well, that's quite kind of you," he said. "Can't say you've ever done that before. What's the catch here?"
"Nothing, my friend! I just want to have some fun."
The Scarecrow noticed a sinister edge in his last word. Looking at the Joker and his ward, he had a very good idea of what was to come, and a half-smile formed on his face.
"All right," said the Scarecrow. "Then I'll definitely see what I can do, by then. You can take my work for now, but I'll notify you in case I make an, ahem, appearance."
As if he had settled a meeting for old friends, the Joker's mouth turned upward, and he patted the Scarecrow on the back.
"Perfect!" the Joker exclaimed, noticing the other man's face turning hot at the contact. "I knew you could come!"
"Yes, now can you leave?" said the Scarecrow. The Joker huffed before taking his hand off of him.
"You're such a nice guy, you know that, Spooks?" he said. Eyes flashing, he took the Scarecrow's flask from the table and gestured Bonnie to leave. They both made their way to the door.
"I'll see you later!" the Joker exclaimed. The Scarecrow nodded and gave a small wave.
"Yes, you will," he groaned, before Bonnie heard his voice chirp ominously, "and goodbye, Miss Hatch. I'll be seeing you soon."
Bonnie turned and immediately noticed that the doctor's face was at its brightest, and his eyes were that odd white color they were before. They distracted her enough that she didn't realize that he had called her by her former last name, which she had never told him.