A Night of Merriment

Reds and blues lit up the night, which was more or less a regular occurrence in this city and not a good one. The cars were gathering on a street in front of one particular building which meant this is where the crime in progress was happening.

It had been the first of many that Dispatch was calling in, but it was the first that could be called a genuine hostage situation. In the end it meant more paperwork to be done, and Bullock was already several weeks behind. Well, what was one more, eh?

Slamming the car door shut behind him, he began taking control of the situation, or at least their side of the situation. Before he could even get one word in though—

"You're running out of time, Piggies!"

Hmm, judging by the fact that it wasn't coming directly in front of his face and it didn't sound like Mahoney, that meant it was coming from above. The lieutenant tilted his head back and took in the sight on the rooftop.

Dangling over the side were the hostages, held in the air by rope or something. He didn't need to be up close to know how terrified they had to be. On the rooftop themselves were the hostage takers and damn it, they were looking like the rest of the perps that were making a lot of noise this night.

These two guys, or at least the two he could see were dressed identically. Looked like marching band ensemble. Not Gotham colors so definitely an away team. That already put them on his shit list. Red, long-sleeved shirts, gold flourishes on the front, the shoulders, and the cuffs on the sleeves, and black pants completed the outfits. Sheesh, everyone knew that Black and Gold were Gotham's Colors, go Knights.

But even from down here, he could tell the perps had painted their faces a pasty white. Clown makeup. Bet you twenty bucks they were part of the League of Smiles that had been making a name for themselves.

"So what do these mooks want?" he growled to the officer that was formerly in charge.

The officer answered, "They're threatening to drop the hostages unless we put the Joker's face on the million dollar bill."

"Just the million? They're being generous," Bullock snarked. "Right, who has a bullhorn. I'm going to try and talk them down, for whatever that's worth. Try to get someone behind them or someone tries to cut in. Whichever comes first."

Not all neighborhoods were bad in Gotham. Not all were grimy, littered in trash, or entirely dangerous to set one foot out your door. Not that even a mediocre neighborhood like this one, one that was generally safe but not necessarily seeing a lot of people trying to move in either, was missing a downside. In this case, the elevated train, one of the various methods of mass transit that Gotham tried to use to stem down its traffic problems.

This residential section had managed to weather the various crises that periodically occurred in the city, endured any and all crime waves with minimal suffering, and was able to emerge with little or no damage to it.

The League of Smiles was thinking of changing that.

A swarm of them had arrived and had begun livening up what they considered a drab and dreary place in need of a facelift. Many of them wore leather jackets, the words Die Laughing emblazoned on their backs along with a picture of a Joker's head. Those without jackets wore either colorful windbreakers or went all out in the clown department. Some wore white face paint all over their faces, some their heads, and those who didn't alternated between your standard clown nose, or jester-esque hats and hoods.

No matter who they were, all had colorful shapes painted around their eyes, whether they were purple diamonds, light blue rounded hexagons, or one single green circle. Everyone, though, had face paint around their mouths, all patterned to resemble smiles.

They took control quickly, initially shooting into the air, then shooting at anyone they came across. People fled because of course they would. Not all could get away. The security measures that some of the buildings required to get in, like using keys, or card keys, or punching in codes would delay some long enough to be caught and dragged back into the streets. Some tried to get into their cars. Some were successful. Some even turned on the engines. Too many of those were too chicken shit to actually use them to run any of them over.

Take this one family, mom was in the front passenger seat, kids in the back, and dad hadn't been able to get into the driver's seat in time. Mom had acted quickly enough to shut that door and lock them, but then they were jumping onto the hood, knocking on the windows, and having some fun beating some sense into dad.

One of them in a leather jacket, choosing his favorite knife to hold, knocked on the passenger side window with the blade. "Come on, lady. We just want to have some fun!" he cajoled. "It'll be great! Fun for the kids too!" Then violently he slammed the butt end of the knife into the window. A good portion of it became obscured by countless, crumbling cracks in it. Not real glass, just the easily breakable Plexiglas.

This was going to be fun.

With police sirens ringing in the distance, the small group of smiling Leaguers made their way to their destination. At their head was Philip Miles, a dentist now turned lethal entertainer. He came complete with a not so friendly smile and drill in hand and a shotgun in the other. At his sides were his partners in merriment, Annie with her butchery and knife tricks that were sure to kill and Happy who never appeared as such but always brought a good time with him.

A few other members of the growing League of Smiles had followed after them, in need of a good time. They were armed with their party favors and eager to please their audience. They were very colorful in clown costumes or half-assing it with street clothes and clown makeup. This really contrasted with the ammunition belts they wore, straps slung over shoulders with individual bullets out in the open.

The Merrymaker had picked this place specifically, and he had tapped Philip with livening it up. There was no greater honor and the dentist swelled with pride. He would make the man proud and to do that he would sacrifice every living soul in that building to the glorious avatar of chaos itself.

And why not? This world was a joke; one big, fat, unfunny joke that was in sore need of a punchline!

Why come to this place? To prolong how much longer you suffered? Pfft. Right. Life was not worth it to bear that. People needed to wake up and embrace the fun.

Tilting his head to a side, Philip remarked, "My mother always thought I could be a great surgeon."

Annie giggled. "Was she disappointed? The poor dear."

Happy grunted, disinterested but playing along. Good man, that.

Holding his drill up and letting it whirl for a second, Philip added, "Time to make her proud."

With a confident step, he led the way across the street and towards the door where so many sick people came. Behind him, the rest followed, such chuckling, such giggling, but all eager to have a fun time. Heh, time to show the sheeple inside that the only sickness there was was to be sick of life.

The cure? Why death, naturally.

As they reached the entrance, above their heads was a grouping of words that stated to the world the name of this place.

Thompkins Free Clinic.

"Tick tock! Tick tock! Your time is running out, pigs!"

There were two clowns, dancing back and forth with one another. Each held a knife in hand, light gleaming off of their steel edges. Two ropes went over the edge of the building, two terrified people dangling in the air. From this distance, it was difficult to hear if they were crying, screaming, or whimpering.

Batman stared at the scene, his face as hard as granite. This situation was, unfortunately, entirely expected. It had only been a matter of time before the League of Smiles had acted again; one set back at the Homestead Youth Center wouldn't deter them. That they would put more people into harm's way…

"How do we make these clowns pay for their discretions?" Damian asked him for his side. The boy stared with rapt fascination. He was continuously cracking the knuckles of his hands, changing from one to the other over and over.

"The priority is the hostages," Batman responded. "Whatever happens, we need to ensure they are safe. Then we worry about the clowns."

"But will they not sever the ropes that hold the hostages?" the boy pointed out.

That was very likely. "We'll need to distract them. One keeps their attention while the other helps the hostages."

Damian's head perked up at that. "I will—"

"You will help the hostages. I'll keep the clowns' attention on me."

Damian's mouth hung open. "But…but I wanted to…"

"What was my rule?" Batman questioned him, turning his head to look at his son.

"...do not kill anyone."

At least he remembered that. "Yes—and you will obey my instructions. I'm telling you to protect the hostages; that's exactly what you'll do. Understood?"

There was a sour look on the dark-haired boy's face, but eventually he relented. "I will do as you have ordered, Father."

Batman nodded his acceptance. If Damian disobeyed him here, this would be the end of his patrol. It was time to see if he could follow orders. Moving away from the boy, the vigilante headed for another side of the building they were on, leaping off of it as he activated the glider mode of his cape.

Soaring through the air, he angled his flight towards the hostage situation, specifically for a spot behind the clowns. The two clowns were hooting and hollering, which helped mask the vigilante's approach. As he closed in, he released his hold on his cape, the electric current ending as the cloth went limp. He landed on the roof, purposefully making a thud as he did, his cape falling over his body.

That caused the two clowns to pause in their mania. Turning so they could look behind them, looks of surprise appeared on their painted faces. "Holy shit, it's the Bat!" one of them cried out.

Batman took a step towards them, then another. This prompted one of them to jump towards the rope holding up one of the hostages. He held his knife against it. "Don't take another step, Batman! Or I'll—"

The vigilante threw his cape open with the swing of an arm, a bat-shaped shuriken flying through the air. The projectile collided with the clown's hand, knocking the knife out of his grasp. "Ahh!" he yelped as he yanked his hand back to his body, grabbing it with his other hand to massage the pain out of it.

"This is your only chance to give yourselves up," Batman told them then. "Otherwise, we do this the hard way."

"Punchline ain't no one's bitch!" the disarmed clown yelled before he charged at the dark-clad man. Batman took a step back to avoid the punch that was aimed for his head. He took another to avoid the next punch. All of this was to draw the clowns away from the hostages, their attention all on him. The more distance he put between them, the safer the hostages would be.

However, he would only backpedal for so long. As the third punch came at him, the vigilante countered, whipping an arm up to block the blow. He threw one of his own, an uppercut that slammed beneath the clown's chin, snapping his head back before he went flying backwards, landing in a heap on the ground.

No sooner had the clown gone down that the other clown came charging in screaming, holding his knife up, ready to stab. Batman held his ground until the last moment before he slid to one side, turning as he did so. The clown thrust the knife into empty space because of this.

Swiftly, Batman shot his hands out, one grabbing onto the wrist of the clown's knife-wielding hand, the other on the collar of his gaudy costume. He then pulled back hard, forcing the clown to topple over backwards as his lungs swung up from underneath him. In midair, Batman released his hold on the clown's collar, moving that hand to grab onto the forearm of the same arm he was holding.

Gravity set in and the clown began to fall down to the roof. As he landed, his arm landed on top of Batman's extended leg, one he purposefully left there. Pulling down hard on the distal part of the clown's arm, his leg became a fulcrum, one that put a lot of pressure on the painted man's arm, right until the bone snapped in two. Shards of bone pierced through skin and cloth, the clown screaming from the pain as he dropped his knife.

From behind he heard footsteps, ones that were quickly approaching him. Letting go of the clown's broken arm, Batman began to stand up, but then whipped an arm up. The back of his fist hit something soft, yet firm. There was a yelp, one that caused the vigilante to turn around, finding the other clown stumbling backwards, both of his hands covering his face from where he had been struck in the face by the backhand blow.

Taking a step and then another towards the remaining clown, Batman grabbed onto his puffy shirt with both hands. Yanking the man towards him, the Dark Knight twisted his body even as he hauled his opponent off of the roof. He drove the painted man face first into the roof split-second later, leaving him planted there with his legs sticking up into the air.

Pulling back, Batman then raised one of his legs and delivered a front snap kick, one that knocked the man over, leaving him lying there on his back in a heap.

Assured this clown was done for, the dark-clad man glanced to the other one, who was still writhing on the ground, grasping at his broken arm. That was it for them. Turning his attention towards the hostages, he saw Damian lowering the last one to the roof, the man and woman cocooned in rope. The boy glanced up at him as he completed his task. "The hostages are safe!" he declared loudly.

Yes, yes they were.

Calling this a riot wouldn't be accurate. Batgirl had seen riots, had seen just how chaotic and damaging they were. There was definitely chaos here, even damage to cars, houses, even mailboxes, but it all seemed tamed to the ones that she had seen before.

It probably didn't help that these so-called rioters were clowns.

She only gave one order: "Take them down, hard, fast, and keep yourselves safe." Okay, maybe that was two, but it was one sentence. Bluebird and Spoiler understood as they only nodded their acknowledgement.

Throwing herself into the air, Batgirl used the glider mode of her cape to soar towards a minivan, one that had four clowns kicking at a man laying on the ground. Another clown was tapping on the window of the van, a woman screaming in terror on the inside.

She went right for the terrorizing clown. Because he had his back to her, he never saw her approach. At the last moment, Batgirl leaned backwards, swinging her legs forward so that her feet slammed into the back of his head, which smashed his face into the car window. The safety-proof glass held, but cracked and splintered from the collision.

Letting go of her cape, the young woman landed behind the man, one hand grabbing onto the back of his collar and the other to the seat of his pants. She pulled back on the collar while pulling up on the pants, which caused him to tumble over backwards. Leaning forward, she felt the man roll over her back before he went falling head first onto the ground. He stayed that way, feet up in the air, before toppling over in a heap.

Standing back up, Batgirl spared a glance at the terrified woman, who was still screaming. There were a couple kids in the backseat, frightened, but they stared at her almost with wonder. On the other side of the car, through the splintered glass, she could see the other clowns slowing their beating of the helpless man on the ground.

Batgirl leaped up, planting her hands on top of the van to help vault her onto it. She swung her legs up over her head, allowing her to go into a flip, which she did to fly over the rest of the van and began descending on the other side.

Leaning forward so that she was nearly horizontal in the air, she scissored her legs, each one kicking out in the opposite direction. Her feet slammed into the face of two of the clowns, their cries of pain muffled by the bottom of her boots. All three of them fell to the ground, but where the two clowns landed in heaps, Batgirl recovered to land on her feet, each one on either side of the beaten man so that she didn't step on him.

That left just two more clowns, both of whom were surprised by her arrival. Seeing as they were on either side of her, Batgirl shot both of her fists out, nailing the two men in their groins. Sharp squeals rang out from them, causing them to bend over to clutch at their damaged manhoods. Moving her hands up, she grabbed onto the backs of their heads and then forced them together, smashing their faces against each other, the sound of bone striking bone ringing out. Pulling them backwards, she tossed them away, where they collapsed to the ground, one of them ending up slumped against the side of the minivan.

That was five clowns down in less than ten seconds. Her father would be proud.

Looking to find the next clowns, she spotted Bluebird blasted one with her taser rifle. There was a shrill scream as the clown was electrocuted. Ending the electrical blast, Bluebird allowed the man to collapse into a twitch pile of body parts, smoke noticeably wafting up from him. The blue-haired vigilante just turned her weapon to another clown and shot him, tasing him as well. While much had been made about getting the girl to learn hand-to-hand combat, it only made sense for her to put down as many crazed clowns as quickly as possible and her taser rifle did just that. It was a matter of tactics in the given scenario and this was worthy of being quick and efficient.

As for Spoiler, she seemed to be using her skills to her advantage. Even as she let loose a couple batarangs, she was spinning around to avoid a clown swinging a bat at her head. She even ducked her head to better avoid it. Once the bat passed, she darted forward, going low so that she could spring up at the last moment. Throwing an uppercut, she landed the blow beneath the man's chin, snapping his head back. As he began to stumble backwards, Spoiler landed on her feet, but then dropped down so that she could perform a spinning low kick, one that knocked the clown's feet out from underneath him. He fell backwards, landing hard on the ground. The lavender-clad girl stood up, another batarang in hand, this one she threw with a flick of her wrist, striking the painted man's temple to confirm the knockout. Almost surprisingly, the batarang bounced back to the blonde girl, who caught it. If it weren't for the surprise in her eyes, Batgirl would have said she had meant to do that.

That's when…trouble…showed up.

A large man came lumbering down the street, dressed most bizarrely. He was clearly a man as he was large and bulky, his muscular arms being shown quite plainly. It was the pink dress he wore, completely with little pink bows in his hair that made him odd to look at.

"Medicine…" he grunted as he began to lumber towards Spoiler. "I want…my medicine…give me…my medicine…"

"Whoa!" Spoiler yelped as she began to backpedal. She threw her batarang at him, though her aim seemed off as she only struck him on his chest rather than his head. The pink-dressed man just grunted, but didn't even lose his step. "Do you have…my medicine?"

"I got your medicine right here!"

The giant turned his head to look at Bluebird, who was taking aim at him with her taser rifle. As it so happened, a clown came running by, which the towering man grabbed by his neck. He held the surprised clown up just as Bluebird fired her electrical blast.

It quickly became apparent that this large man was using his fellow clown as a human shield as he was struck by the blast. As he shrilly screamed, the giant just stared until the flashing light ended. Then with a grunt he threw the roasted clown towards Bluebird, whose eyes widened momentarily before she went into a roll to avoid the burnt body.

Alright, it was her turn now. Batgirl took off into a run, heading right for this giant man's back. She jumped at the last moment, planting one foot on his back so that she could raise herself even higher, her other leg raising up bent at the knee. Her hands grabbed onto the back of his head and jerked it backwards, ramming her knee into the back of his head.

The man cried out as Batgirl let go of his head, planting them down on his shoulders. She went into another flip, maneuvering over her foe and landing on the ground on her feet, keeping her profile to her larger opponent.

"That hurt!" the man bellowed as his eyes focused on her. Teeth bared, he pulled a fist back and threw it at her, the dark-clad girl backpedaling to avoid the blow. Once it passed, she darted forward, swinging a low kick that connected with the side of his knee, causing it to buckle. This threw off his balance, causing the giant to topple to one side, and crash into the side of a parked car.

After a few moments, the man began to push himself off of the car. "Give me….my medicine!" he barked as he looked at the dark-clad girl.

As Batgirl began to consider her next move, she noticed Spoiler positioning herself behind the man. She was keeping herself crouched, indicating she was about to go for a low strike, most likely an attempt to cut the giant's legs out from under him. Spoiler tilted her head to one side, giving a sharp nod. Glancing in the same direction, the young Bat saw Bluebird on one knee, taking aim again.

This should be…interesting.

As the man stood up, a bolt of electricity struck him on his side, causing his whole body to seize, all thanks to Bluebird's taser rifle. The moment the blast ended, Spoiler charged, going low as Batgirl predicted, swinging a leg that hit the back of one of the man's knees. This caused him to begin falling over backwards.

Batgirl got into the act then, rushing towards the falling man. She jumped up into the air, landing on his torso, one foot on his abdomen, the other on his chest. She had one fist drawn back just in time for her foe to land on his back on the ground. She then drove her fist down onto his face, bashing the back of his head against the pavement, his arms and legs jerking for a brief moment before he went completely limp.

"Ha HA!" Bluebird cheered as she held her taser rifle up, leaning the barrel against her shoulder. "Now that was some Batclan teamwork!"

"We didn't even practice that!" Spoiler agreed, clearly giddy. "How awesome is that?!"

Batgirl looked to the two girls and smiled, one that even her mask couldn't hide as the material turned and twisted to show a deformed smile.

"Oh, oh! Is that a smile I see?" Bluebird pressed. "I can't believe it, Spoiler, praise from the boss!"

"Makes you feel warm on the inside, doesn't it?" the other girl added.

Now Batgirl was rolling her eyes as she stepped off of the heap of giant. "Back to work you two," she said half-heartedly. "I want these League of Smiles clowns eating asphalt before this night is over."

Her partners just gave her mock salutes. "Aye, aye, captain!"

The doors had been locked, patients moving whatever they could to barricade the doors, and the small staff that the clinic used were searching for anything else that could be used.

When the madness had descended on the clinic, it had devolved quickly into chaos. People had begun screaming along with the first gunshots. There was running, and few had tried to organize it to the best of their abilities. Sick people were here and did not need to be trampled. The madmen were almost lackadaisical, taking their time and pleasure in their deeds.

Dr. Leslie Thompkins had remained in control and done her best to herd those she could into the heart of the clinic. There she had instructed her staff to lock everything and to do what they could to protect their patients.

She had made sure she was on the other side of the doors, waiting for the invasive lot to arrive. The doctor didn't have to wait long. Standing in front of the locked and barricade doors, she faced down the perpetrators, unwilling to yield to them.

There was an initial spark of hostility towards the man at the front, one who wore the uniform of a dentist. He was supposed to be a man that aided in healing the body; what was he doing here trying to cause it harm?

"You couldn't be more obvious. They're in there, right behind you," the man wearing the clown nose declared.

"Do not come a step further," Leslie ordered. "These people have nothing to do with what you want. Leave. Leave us alone."

"Aw, did you hear that?" a woman wearing a pink dress, white apron, and frilled hat bemoaned while holding a sharp knife close to her painted face. "She thinks those people aren't who we're after! What a laugh!" Chuckles from the rest of the armed mob rang out. "But they're the people we're here to see!"

"Yes, indeed they are," the dentist agreed. "There's nothing more depressing than illness and pestilence. I would know. That's why we're here to make their last moments a laugh riot. If you gotta go, do it with a smile, why not?"

"You are not well," Leslie stated, not intimidated. "It does not have to stay this way. We can talk, find understanding, but killing these people here will not accomplish anything."

"And isn't that the biggest joke of all? Of course it won't!" the dentist cheered, adding in a shrill whirl from his drill. "No one's gonna care that they're dead, but everyone will when it shows up on the news! In death will their lives mean anything! Why are you so cruel to deny them that, doctor lady?"

Leslie strengthened her resolve. The clinic had borne the brunt of many a catastrophe before. As the city had crumbled around it, wars of madmen tearing its streets apart, and even children being stolen from their own bodies, the free clinic had seen it all, withstood it all, and remained standing. It had seen so much and it would see more after this.

"Ah, you must be the bleeding heart type," the dentist remarked, giving a sharp shake of his drill. That acted as a signal for two of the costumed men to step forward, making their way towards her. Leslie did not budge, nor did she take her eyes off of the men. The two costumed men grabbed her roughly by her arms and pinned them to her body, restraining her. There was an instinctive pushback the doctor gave, but it was no match for the crazed men.

She did not speak, only continued to stare defiantly back.

The dentist held up his drill and gripped it tightly, a loud whirl searing into the silence. "You know there's a punchline here. Perhaps we should see how much blood her heart still has."

"Ooh, can I be the one to do it?" the only recognizable female squealed. "It'll be easy! A nice little butchery to kick the night off!"

"I'll handle this," a gruff man whose face paint was designed to look more sad broke out of the group and stood in front of the doctor. In his hand he held the handle of a bat, one that had barbed wire wrapped around its end.

"That's not fair, Happy!" the female complained.

"No, no," the dentist chided. "Our patient here needs some anesthesia first. That's how all operations start after all. Go on, Happy, give her a dose."

Happy grunted, but he gripped the handle of his bat with both hands and raised it over his head. Leslie did not panic and watched, already knowing how this would end. However, she would not look away. Every second she held them here was another one her staff and patients had to secure themselves, perhaps even find a way out. Her life for them, there was no debate. It was a small price to pay.

A streak of light tore through the bat, splinters flaring out in all directions. The suddenness was the only reason Leslie looked away, closing her eyes as to not have them punctured by tiny wooden shards.

"Now that's a malpractice suit waiting to happen," a loud voice declared. "Step away from the doctor while all your bones are still intact!"

From behind the mob stood a vigilante, Manhunter. Her staff was aimed at the group, its end glowing brightly.

"Well, at least it's not kids," the dentist snarled while multiple firearms were raised and aimed at the vigilante. "I like my cheese Swiss. Show her what that looks like!"

Manhunter did not stay where she stood. Immediately she threw herself out of the way as gunfire erupted, loud booms and rapidfire roaring throughout the room. They were distracted, Leslie realized, and since this was not her first time interacting with Manhunter, she knew there were others lying in wait.

The doctor wasn't disappointed. A red and yellow streak began literally cutting through, permanently retiring the firearms with the slash of a katana. The only giveaway was how the lighting gleamed off the blade. The mania of the costumed individuals served to slow them down, uncomprehending that they were being disarmed.

Abruptly, her legs were kicked out from under her and she was only held up by the two men on either side of her. The purpose of this soon became apparent when a staff swung and struck both of the men on the backs of their heads simultaneously. Their holds on her dropped and so did they, and Leslie found herself on the floor soon enough.

A strong hand clad in purple slid around her torso and pulled her away. Before her, the dentist was turning around, his eyes wide with surprise and anger.

"A little over your head, doc?" Huntress quipped as she pulled her away. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"You already know the answer," Leslie answered as she was pushed behind some chairs.

"Yeah, I do," Huntress agreed as she took position in between her and the scattering crowd of clown-themed individuals. "Keep your head down while we handle this. You can put them all back together when we're done breaking them down."

Anderais: Thank you for the review. You might want to ask ShadowMajin about it, my coauthor wrote that scene. As for Beast Boy, feel free to check out Age of Shrouded Legacies which can be found on my account.