Author’s note: Hello friends. Thank you for the kind words and responses. They mean a lot to me. I have been very very busy during my last two quarters. Thank you for being patient with my tardiness. Believe me when I say that I do think about my story even in the midst of academia and work. I have just been utterly utterly distracted. I also decided to take a break from the story and rechanneled my attention to my other white faced fandom. So no, I didn’t forget the story. I already know what is going to happen but it is the details and the approach that is really stifling me creatively. I wanted to make is extra special. This chapter was going to be written very differently but it wasn’t until early this morning that I decided to get my portfolio, tear out some pages and flush those ideas down the toilet. I was going to do it the same way I originally intended to write chapters twenty, twenty one and twenty two as one long diatribe but decided to cut it down for the sake of time. I was going to make it so that Catwoman, Nightwing, Robin and Oracle met up but changed that up a bit and now I came up with this symphony. I hope you like it. Like Christopher Nolan, I won’t be adding extra features at the end of the story but I will put nuggets here and there.

I would also like to take the time to say that this has been an exhilarating experience both positive and negative. I have noticed that there has been a sudden increase in hate mail. Let me tell you, dear reader that writing is not and should not be about fame, but because you like to do it. I have seen how other writers abuse that privilege and tell others what to do. I admit I was a bit disillusioned when I saw this. The most, for lack of a better word, interesting experience came from a real BONEhead. I also had a reader accuse me from stealing work. They are entitled to their opinions but I will say this one more time. If you are going to accuse me of something, ask em first before you jump to conclusions by fabricating lies out of your sick imagination. If I was indeed stealing from other people, why would I promote the story I was stealing from? I liked some ideas but I wanted to give my own spin on it. I have had my ideas that have been tweaked by other people. That’s fine. I don’t care. They are entitled to their creations. If you are going to accuse me of stealing work, I would like to see some concrete evidence. I found out one day that one person decided to be a coward and not leave their email which prevented me from correcting them. Please, if you have any issue or a question ASK me first before you jump to conclusions and label me. If you have the balls to call me out, then you should have the balls to leave some form of communication. I have also had this kind of behavior written on my livejournal for unrelated purposes. I cannot stand cowards, I cannot tolerate unfound flames without reasonable back up. If you want to call me out, you are more than welcome to. Just don’t be a pussy about it. I am shameless when I say that people like fef need to grow a pair if they are going to jump to conclusions before accusing me of such things. Also, to people like Bonehead, or bonedaddybaby or whatever he calls himself, if you are going to tell me to do some research, give me some concrete examples of what to do. Don’t pull things out of your rear and spout all these names at me when I ask what I did wrong.

For the rest of you, I do apologize for my tardiness. I have been focusing on other fandoms and working overtime to fund my trip to San Diego in two weeks. I am also anticipating the new Dark Knight video. Let me tell you, Nurse Joker is becoming somewhat of a new fetish of mine! Joker as a red head is yummy! Okay, okay, get to the story you! Forgive the long diatribe, but I had to get it off my chest and I purposely put it in italics so that way you could skip ahead and enjoy your snack.

Peace. Again, if you have any questions or comments, I am here.

Pairing: Batman/Joker

Era/setting: Post crisis 1985

Synopsis: Drama

Rating: R

Genre: Drama, psychological, suspense, action adventure, noir

Bruce was in deep concentration as he searched through his files as he tried searching for any updates on either Scarecrow, Riddler or any of that lot. He had been terribly distracted and made a mental note to himself that he would put in more hours on his next patrol. So far, the files, like a new computer, were clean or any viruses. The sad news is that there were no significant updates that piqued his interest. He made some searches but turned up next to nothing. The only thing that caught his attention was a tabloid journal, the Gotham Post, printed a story about Catwoman apprehending the Scarecrow.

The levels that these people will sink to made his stomach crawl.

There was also news of an opening exhibit at the Creative Arts Center funded by college students that discussed how all these rogues were apart of local mythology. He sipped his coffee in disgust. Not since he Moth man had he seen this kind of fanaticism. On one hand, it reminded him that there were others that were more of questionable mind than he was that didn’t belong in Arkham. But Bruce was a man who always saw the glass half empty and that meant that he had to push himself. He had wasted so much time and lost leads. Were they red herrings? Were they just hors d’ourves to a meal that was out of his grasp? The pattern was there but there was a missing chess piece. There was a sort of definite pattern forming and just like Harley Quinn’s mallet was used to strike his jaw, they were just tools to hinder and slow him down. It was like oil leaking out of a car and walking around in the dark without proper vision to aid.

He did feel as though he was lost in this abyss, without help, without friends. It was choking him. Selina was clearly upset. Would she still offer her hand to help him? He did lie to her, but she was a tough cookie but being the cynic that he was, that was a chance blown out the window, so he was now back to square one. He had to do this alone.

Bruce continued his search. There had to be something and he did have a few ideas. He went in the way of Holmes in that a likely impossibility was always preferable to an unconvincing impossibility.

Behind him, Joker was playing text twist and hang man on his iPhone. The Prince smiled to himself as he was on a winning streak. He giggled every time he typed in a dirty word or a bit of diction that fit his motif and repertoire. He was donning a pair of deep mauve and white striped pants and a wife beater. Alfred had custom made him his casual wear and was on his way of making more. The Prince requested an iron on tee with blood red words and a happy face that said, ‘Why so sad?’

“So, find anything interesting?” The Prince said kittenishly as he brushed up on Bruce’s chair. Green curls cascaded down his forehead, giving him a tint of feminine allure.

“No. I doubt you are interested in hearing about Harley and Ivy’s misadventures in Market Square in Downtown." Joker scoffed.

“Harley is that baby I should have aborted years ago. Anything else happen this week?” Joker leaned in and gazed up at the screen, eying it with some fascination and curiosity.

“Just some tabloid garbage. I doubt you’d be interested in that,” Bruce said calmly. He tapped a few more keys after typing in a new search.

“Perish the thought! Why when I spent my days at Arkham, the only time no one had their tongue ripped out was when Ophelia was on! Oh, the conspiracy theories Riddles ate up and that feminist myth the Queen of Weeds ate up before the rest of us burst her bubble. Mind you, I only loved her when she had types like George Carlin and Steven Wright on her show.”

“I have met her in person,” Bruce said, trying to lighten the mood. “A very nice lady. She invited me onto her program to discuss philanthropy and charity….”

“And you refused to go because you are the mysterious and silent type. Isn’t that right, my little rodent?” Joker smiled. He petted the mass of jet black hair of the playboy.

“Something like that,” Bruce said gently. There was creakiness in the voice that did not go unnoticed by the ears of the Clown Prince. Forest colored eyes narrowed themselves in deep thought. Something had been troubling the Bat and it was obvious to him that it had nothing to do with Spooky, Ugly or Hat guy. It was something else and it bothered him more than when Harley surprised him with uncooked meal or tackled tickles.

“You are playing that game again….” Joker suggested. He began to rub the playboy’s shoulders.

“What game?” the unmasked Dark Knight replied. He smiled slightly.

“The I am going to play dumb game. You know I don’t like that. I see no reason that you do have to not trust me. You were so….passionate. I can’t believe that this is suddenly stopping you…..”

“Stopping me from what?” Bruce pushed on. Oh, what was he talking about now?

“Oh, you know, from talking to me. Anything. I still can’t believe that you are the same person I was with last night,” Joker said softly while scratching his arm.

“Just because we did what we did doesn’t mean I can turn off my personality, Joker,” Bruce took another sip of his drink.

“Oh, I know, I know…it’s just that I get the impression that you are…hiding something….” The Prince sighed.

Bruce’s stomach tinged. He had caught the scent. Joker was a shark and he caught the smell of blood.

“Why would I be hiding something? You know some of us aren’t born parrots. Some of us are just naturally silent,” Bruce stated.

“I am not talking about that. I am talking about how you are holding your breath. You aren’t just quiet, you are silent. Silence means that you are holding back something.”

Bruce put the computer in sleep mode before he swiveled the chair and put full focus on the clown.

“When I hear of something, you will be the first to know,” he said gently. Clearly, Joker was getting impatient and the last thing he wanted was an angry clown that would put a two year old to shame.

“I am not talking about those bastards and Johnny come latelies,” Joker said sourly. “I am talking about you. You are quiet as if something is bothering you.”

It was a hit below the belt.

Bruce glanced up and smiled at the clown. For once, in recent memory he had never felt so, content. And yet, he hated that feeling. It meant that you could hang up your cape and boots and forget your troubles. Bruce wasn’t that kind of person. He would rather forego five years of endless taxing of his spirit than be locked in a state of bliss. It was just a fantasy. No one could ever be happy. Feelings were fluid, just like his mission. He had gotten so used to his cause that he could not imagine living any other way.

He could not trust even his own shadow.

On one hand, it did bring him some much needed solitude but at the expense of pushing others away. Joker had undone all of that. Their exchange of intimacy reminded him that not everything had to have a specific purpose. Not everything had to have a point and that some things just were. Before, he liked to gloss over things by paint brushing them with an idea and while it gave him results, it was not so consistent in areas that were not of his expertise. It was shaky ground and he was trying to build bridge while using quicksand as an apparatus. Still, a part of him felt that this was an unplanned surprise. He was not supposed to fall for the clown’s charms and here he was broken down and beaten. It was a mixed blessing, so to speak. He didn’t want to think of this as a bonus because it brought along more complications. How would he tell the commissioner? On second thought, he didn’t have to know. A large part of their relationship was based on blind trust and secrets. He was a landmine of surreptitious dealings. What is one more? He could make up a lie that involved a crate and an explosion and he would buy it hook line and sinker. Then again, Gordon was a cop and it took a long while for him to gain back his trust. What if he didn’t buy even if he told the rest of the PD?

How would his relationship with Dick change? Tim? Barbara? Oh, God, Barbara. He could not hide things from them. His old self would say ‘get used to it’, no questions asked. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He had gotten slightly more sensitive in the three weeks. They changed every fiber of his being.

On one hand, he felt rejuvenated and yet he also felt slightly awkward. Was it because he had indulged more than once? Was it because he made love to his worst enemy, the same one who took Barbara’s legs?

“I am not so sure I buy that,” Joker said snidely.

“Why is that?” Bruce said while clearing his throat. He knew that the clown caught it and he did his best to act like nothing was bothering him. He put on his best poker face and stared straight ahead into the screen.

“Because you are not being specific. Don’t take me as stupid, Bats. I may be a certified psychopath with delusions of grandeur, obsessive compulsive personality disorder and a narcissistic deficiency but that does not make me stupid!”

“You are getting out of hand,” Bruce said in a calm but alert tone. “And you are taking this way too personal. You think that just because I don’t shower you with attention that I am hiding something?” A small smile formed on his face. Maybe a jab might lessen the tension. “You remind me of Selina,” Bruce added. Joker’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that fat witch!” Joker growled.

“Well, excuse me but just because I am keeping mum about this doesn’t mean I am hiding things from you. It just means I have nothing to say to you. I am sorry if I can’t be open with you as you’d like, but I see no reason to say things when I have none. You don’t see me telling you to shut your mouth, do you?” Bruce said darkly. He was desperate. He didn’t want to curve to swing this far away from the center. Joker was becoming an emotional baggage and it was getting to him.

Joker’s face contorted into one of disgust. How dare this man talk to him this way? If Bruce was indeed clean about the whole thing, why couldn’t he be direct?

It had something to do with him. He could talk about the reproductive habits of mollusks and he still wouldn’t care. He just didn’t like being left out in the cold. Bruce was a man of secrets and he could not stand being left out. He had spent hours at that computer not talking to him. Surely, he would have found something by now. A part of him could not let go of the idea that he had something to do with Bruce ignoring him.

“I know you are hiding something and you are not telling me. Add to the fact that you won’t tell me exactly what just confirms it. You won’t talk to me-“

“I am talking to you know,” Bruce chimed in.

“You won’t talk to me about us!” Joker shrieked. “Where does this all go to? What will be your duty to the city? How will you explain all this to the commissioner? What about junior? Am I going to have to babysit him and make cookies with him while you are out fighting crime?”

Bruce sighed

“I have it all covered,” Bruce stated simply. “Don’t worry about it.”

“That is exactly what I am talking about. You do things that have to do with me directly and you don’t tell me,” the clown replied coolly. “How the hell am I supposed to take it?”

“Maybe you need to learn a thing or two about trust, Joker? Isn’t that what you have been preaching all along?” Bruce counterattacked. Best use fire against fire.

“Not when I don’t have a say in it!” Joker yelled.

Bruce’s mind snapped into action. How do you calm a rowdy clown who is on the brink of a breakdown?

“Relax,” Bruce stood up and placed his hands on the jester’s shoulders. “I have it all figured out. You worry too much,” Bruce leaned in and kissed the prince on the cheek. Maybe that would put out the fire that swelled in his belly.

“Whatever,” the Prince shoved him back. “I will be in the cot. When your insecurity and immaturity inverse in proportion to your trust on me, you know where I will be,” Joker said hotly.

“Now those are fighting words,” Bruce replied dimly. Joker made a raspberry and threw a pillow.

Ever since their trade last night, he had noted that the Dark Knight had been less….involved. In fact, they barely talked over their breakfast, smiling silently at each other and mostly from the Joker. He just figured that the Bat didn’t like to talk with his mouthful but now he wasn’t so sure. Yes, he knew that he liked his privacy and surely, he felt that he was entitled to bear witness to the Bat’s most private thoughts. But after last night, barely anything was said. The Prince wanted to think that it was in his nature to be so silent. Still, he caught a nuance and decided to save himself the stress and decided to go for another round of Tetris.

Just at that moment, he noted a small red light at the left corner of his screen and he took the call.

He wasn’t one to answer at first.

“Hello, Bruce?” a female voice responded. Barbara.

“I got your message. Did you find any leads?”

He was of course referring to any of the promising clues that came from the Mad Hatter’s visit at the gala last night.

Barbara helped herself to a cup of Ramen noodles as she typed on the keypads.

“Very. I found a possible trading place by the Gotham docks. This sounds like it’s big business.”

“Any specific license plates I should keep a lookout for,”

“Just look for crates that are marked Bhutan, Dubai or Singapore. I hacked into the docks computer system and I do not see any official listings from shipment from those places.”

“Are you okay?” Bruce said suddenly. Barbara was taken aback. Normally, Bruce wasn’t this attentive but there was no harm done in answering.

“Nothing a little Tylenol wouldn’t do. Did Dad give you the package he found on his desk?” Barbara queried. She had ventured into some important government files. She had also been doing side jobs for Zinda, Helena and Selina.”

“Yes,” Bruce stated simply.

“Was there anything of interest in there?” Barbara folded her hands and pressed her chin onto the closed fists.

“More than I would like to know,” Bruce stated directly and it was more than enough warning that there had been some progress done and that it was best to leave the Bat up to this.

“It’s better than nothing. I gotta go now.” A click sound was followed.

Bruce hung up.

Barbara turned from her desk to the door. She had invited Dick over for a small luncheon to discuss progress….and Bruce.

The former boy wonder presented the ex Batgirl with a surprise dish he had cooked up. Lasagna.

“Hey there.” He said sweetly. No matter how long they had stopped dating she could not resist that boyish smile. Curse your Dick Grayson. “I made your favorite.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Babs smiled.

“You talk to the big guy yet?” Dick said as he set up the dining area. He even brought a faux flower in a pot to make the meal more romantic.

“I just did. Turns out he is a few steps ahead, though he didn’t tell me what,” Barbara replied.

“Typical Bruce.” He helped serve her a hearty serving of the fine vegetable and meat dish on a plate for her. “The ultimate control freak. Even he can make that scary.”

“Stop it Grayson, I think we should step in. I mean, trying to catch Scarecrow and the Joker is like trying to herd cats.” Barbara said bitterly.

“Have you made some plans? Have you discussed this with the Birds?” Dick responded as he poured some ice cold soda for him and Barbara.

“Not yet, but I did mention it to Dinah, so who knows. The entire JLA should know, but with Bruce who knows. When I first mentioned it to them, they were surprised. That bothered me more. It was as if Bruce was keeping this to himself.”

“He has been acting kinda funny, I think I’ll go visit him,” Dick said dimly.

“I think you should. It’s not right that he’s acting like this. And the fact that even Clark was surprised got me, really.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go talk to him. I know something is up.” He took a sip of his Coke.

“And I am going to find out exactly what is distracting Bruce.”

Bruce shuffled through some more pages. He had gotten slightly surprised as he had just been talking to Barbara while only seconds earlier he was talking to her attacker casually. He buried himself deeper into his work to distract and numb the swelling that was in his stomach.

“Who was that?” Joker piped up from behind.

“No one,” Bruce stated simply. “Just someone.”

“Someone I know?” Joker said venomously.

Bruce leaned down on the monitor. He knew that the meet would be inevitable. He just didn’t want to be pushed in that direction so quickly.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“One of your colleagues from the Justice League?” The Clown Prince purred. It tried Bruce’s patience. He did not like to be pushed. He was in a sensitive state and he was in no mood for jokes especially when he was pushed there.

“Just someone you know and I will leave it at that,” Bruce said in the calmest tone that he could muster. Joker’s peridot colored eyes narrowed.

“Fine, be that way,” the Prince huffed in disgust. He had tried. He turned around the opposite way from where Bruce sat. “I don’t want dessert tonight….”

“Alfred is making your favorite, raspberry cheesecake,” Bruce said in a last attempt to build his burnt bridge.

“I wasn’t talking about the damn cheesecake,” Joker said in a voice laced with poison.