Disclaimer: Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. I wish I may, I wish I might! Alas, it all belongs to the lovely folks mentioned before. I think I'll go have a good cry about it.

Warnings: Slash, as usual.

--I didn't even see The Dark Knight again. I was just talking to my brother about it, while we were watching Torchwood. Random, I know. And this popped into my head. It's getting worse. My addiction to this fandom and this coupling is worsening. May I should go to a rehab…Nah, I'll just ride it out.


He'll Show Them

By: EIW

"When the chips are down, I'll show ya." –The Joker, The Dark Knight


The Joker had been aching for a challenge.

It's why he'd come to Gotham.

He'd heard about the Bat Man. About how difficult he was making the criminals' lives there, about how he didn't kill people. The fact that people were scared of someone who wouldn't kill them was intriguing. The criminal grapevine of chatter was all about Gotham. The Joker liked to listen to the reports that dribbled in from the surrounding areas. They seemed to all converge on this one city. This one area where apparently, there was a man dressing up as a bat to scare off criminal behavior. But the kicker was that it was working, this is what captivated the Joker. The concept was ridiculous to all sensible human beings, which he had the pleasure of not being associated with, but it was working.

The Joker liked ridiculous.

He was certainly a ridiculous concept on paper. But in all actuality, he scared the living hell out of people. Every person that he'd come into contact with, since before he could remember, had been horrified of him. Maybe they were simply confused at first or perhaps slightly put off by the scars. But they all became horrified after they got to know him, when they got to see first hand, what kind of cards he dealt. The look on their faces was such encouragement. The horror that they felt leaked off them in frantic waves. Their eyes would widen to an almost impossible size. That was his favorite look, the look of pure unabashed fear.

It made him feel all tingly inside.

He'd come to Gotham to seek the Batman and so far he'd been terribly disappointed. Not one sighting! All he wanted was some much deserved attention. It wasn't too much to ask. But the Mob was certainly in the way, he'd dealt with this kind of thing in the last city and the city before that and the city before that...

Crime lords and mob leaders were all the same. They think that they can keep their plans in order, think that their men are loyal, think that they're so powerful that no one would dare cross them. Oh, he'd show them alright. They'd never make the mistake of thinking that their scheming ways could control anything. Not after he was finished with them.

Back to the Batman problem though, so to get the Batman's attention, he'd taken his usual game to the mob. Make them an offer and wait till his chaos brought them begging to his doorstep. His figurative doorstep obviously, he didn't really have a home per say and most certainly not a home with a doorstep. Homes were boring. It wasn't fun knowing where he was going to end up every night. He had what he needed with him at all times; his paint, knives, gunpowder and his other necessities like dynamite and gas were easy to come by. Ergo, a storage facility, such as a house, was completely superfluous, beyond pointless.

The Joker didn't do pointless things.

Everything he did had a reason.

Then Dent had appeared in all his boring suited glory and the Joker couldn't have asked for a better way in. He'd threaten him, Gotham's beacon of light. He'd make a name for himself and go after Dent. Batman wouldn't dare take his chances with Harvey Dent. He was too important to Batman's city. And there just happened to be a party Saturday night, in Harvey Dent's honor.

Perfect.

This is why the Joker never made plans. People made his plans for him as they made their own. It was so easy to turn a plan onto it's self because they were just asking for it, dictating their lives with arbitrary plans and schemes. Someone had to show these people what their problem was. They think that they're living their lives, but all the while, not really living.

He'd show them. They'd soon see.

The lackeys that he'd picked up from the street blithered on about something vastly unimportant. He'd shoot them once the job was done. Or maybe he wouldn't. He wasn't quite sure yet. It depended.

Their chatter was beginning to irritate him. His face was only smiling by the good grace of his scars. Maroni's man was looking awkwardly out the window, trying not to stare at him. The Joker could always tell. Not that it bothered him, he was too busy thinking about his upcoming meeting with Batman. He'd have to come. The Joker had killed a commissioner and a judge already today. All that was left was Dent. Or maybe he wouldn't kill Dent just yet. He'd have to see. The Joker never makes plans. It was much more fun to simply see what happened.

They only killed four people on their way into the pretentious building. Well, and the other five who just wouldn't get off the elevator. His clowns had finally stopped twittering as they stepped onto the lift and took their places. The elevator music had a good beat and the Joker tapped his foot to the rhythm, bobbing his head as they ascended up towards the penthouse. He pulled Maroni's man in front, just in case of gun fire. Cops make good shields. With a nice ping, the elevator stopped and the Joker smiled gleefully. He bounced on the balls of his feet in his overexcitement; his laugh was beginning to seep out.

He hadn't been this excited in ages.

Straightening his purple suit, the Joker stepped off the elevator as his clowns danced around the people, herding them into the corners of the room. He enjoyed having the center stage; he didn't want to share this moment with anyone. Not this time, not with Batman.

"We're tonight's entertainment." He began. And as expected, everyone lost their minds. A gun shot quieted them down and it was off to business. He searched the room for Harvey Dent, but he wasn't actually looking for the DA. He was straining his eyes to see Batman. Picking at the finger food and gulping down some champagne, he made his way across the room. He admired the shiny floor; it made his reflection look even more horrifying than usual.

It was marvelous.

As always, someone was stupid enough to make a comment and he threatened them with one of his glittering silver knives. The light from the chandelier bounced off the blade perfectly and it made little lights dance around the surrounding air. This room was lovely for using knives.

He more than liked it.

A girl stopped him, a pretty girl, nothing to his fancy of course. She was saying they weren't afraid. Which was a bold faced lie, everyone in the room was frozen stiff in fright. He smiled and stalked towards her. Stupid girl, she didn't understand. He'd show her how afraid she should be, how afraid they all should be. He pulled her close to him and told her a scar story. He liked this story. He used it on quite a few women who where brave or stupid (same things really) enough to get in his way. He had plenty of stories, but this one worked particularly well on females.

She punched him.

Hm…that was different. Not many women had the guts to try that. Maybe he'd gut her. Get it?

She probably wouldn't see the irony.

Pity.

"A little fight in ya, I like that." He said, coming at her again.

"Then you're going to love me." He heard those gruff words spoken right before everything went into slow motion.

He spun around quickly, knowing and hoping that the voice belonged to Batman. He was quickly thrown back by the strength of a punch. Smiling he stood up. Oh yes, this is what he'd been waiting for.

The fight began.

He threw his clowns in the way so that he could see the Batman in action. His strength and style were impressive and true to word, Batman didn't kill anyone. He was spectacular. Smiling with satisfaction, the Joker leapt forward with a few blows and stabbed him with his shoe knife. It didn't stop him. The Joker's smile stretched across his face so tautly that he thought it might burst open.

Oh! He was beyond excited.

He tried to reign in his excitement. He couldn't get too overjoyed just yet, he still had to test Batman's code. See how far he'd go to not kill someone or have someone killed. He grabbed the first person next to him and pulled out the gun. Oh the girl, well she'd get hers now. Funny world isn't it?

He wanted to see Batman's face. He had to see his face. It'd be perfect. Perfect because it had to be, to be that amazingly 'good' the man had to be pretty. It was a fact of life. The Joker was evil and looked the part, so why shouldn't his adversary? His only worthy adversary, oh no, he'd be perfect. The Joker had waited too long for him to come about.

He'd waited his whole life.

Batman declined the unmasking and the Joker thrust the girl out the window. Her feet dangling off the edge, his smile twitched waiting to see what would happen.

"Let her go." His smile grew.

"Very poor choice of words," he said, grinning maliciously.

And he let go.

She fell and Batman looked at him for a moment in absolute shock. It was just for a moment, but it was one of those 'time stands still' moments. Understanding filled the Batman's eyes. Finally, he knew what he was dealing with. They'd found an understanding. Batman's muscles tensed under his suit. The Joker's eyes roamed his form. Oh, yes. His waiting had most certainly paid off.

Batman ran and launched himself fearlessly into the dark night sky. He skidded down the building and dove down after her. The Joker's smile faltered. It had been impressive to say the least, but did that mean that the Batman was Dent? He'd thrown himself after her far too quickly to not know her, a few milliseconds too early, to be precise.

It couldn't be.

Dent's face was all wrong. It wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want Dent as his enemy. That wouldn't work out. Batman was too dark to be Dent. Harvey wasn't nearly perfect enough to be his nemesis, his rival, his opposite.

As he stared into the abysmal darkness, he turned and grabbed some food and pushed the button the elevator forcefully. As the Joker waited for the elevator to reach his floor, he roamed his mind for any similarities between Batman and Harvey Dent. He'd only seen the Bat for a few moments, but the image was already carved into his brain, into his very core, into his soul.

The elevator doors opened quietly and he stepped on. One of his men got up slowly and he shot him quickly. He couldn't be bothered with their idiocy now. He was too focused.

Could Dent be Batman?

No.

His chin was too indented. His eyes weren't dark enough. His body was all wrong. It wasn't strong enough. It wasn't Dent, Batman was Batman, the Joker smiled ghoulishly with relief and stepped off the elevator and into the lobby of the building.

Besides, Dent felt all wrong. Even if he'd only seen Harvey on the television, the Joker knew how Batman had felt and it was not like that. Not at all. He felt slightly ashamed for thinking that Batman was Dent. Batman was far superior to him.

He'd show Batman just how much better he was than all these allegedly 'good' people. He'd show him that it was only him atop that pedestal of greatness. He'd show him that they were perfectly compatible adversaries. So that he'd never be alone in this darkness again. Batman would always have the Joker and vice versa.

This was too perfect not to be a forever thing.

Even as a lover of chaos, he had to admit that destiny was something too powerful to even consider messing with. He had finally found his person, the one person he'd spend the rest of his life with, the one person that he could count on to be there with him through thick and thin. Because Batman wouldn't let someone like him just get away. Wouldn't let him mess with his city and not take action. Batman would be there every time the Joker's games ensued. And Bats wouldn't kill him, so they'd be together forever, forever locked in battle over an insignificant city.

It was a lovely thought.

Thoroughly satisfied with this evening's happenings, the Joker smiled giddily and walked off into the black night. He hummed a random tune that came to him and jumped a bit as he replayed his fight with Batman. He twirled off into the night, laughing in happiness, anticipating his next confrontation with his Batman.


--Hope you like it. Please review!