What Happens In Gotham

A/N: Sorry it took so long for this, I’m having some issues with my wireless connection, so I’m switching to Comcast will take sometime.Happy Halloween Kiddies!



Special Thanks: To the wonderful Silential for all her magical beta powers that make my story legible, I swear she‘s a beta-ing machine(The Neo of fanfiction!)



A Shout Out to my husband TheJoker, an artist who is turning this story into a comic (YES!!!), we’ll all be looking forward to that (Hi Pumpkin! I wanted to share our happy news ^_~)



A HUGE THANKS TO ALL REVIEWERS YOU GUYS ROCK!



This chapter is dedicated to my hubby who DID NOT blow up the airport and shared a mind-BLOWING honeymoon with me (winks) !!!!!! Luv ya babe ;3

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What Happens In Gotham



By: TheDisasterousChibi



Last Time:



“Seems like we all have our little secrets” Bruce mused, he couldn’t judge this woman based on her would be husband. She had proven herself in his eyes. The trust she placed on him only cemented his resolve to help her.



“Yeah you run around in spandex and a cape and I may be married to a certified criminal wackjob! Yup we’re two peas in a pod Brucey”



They shared a laugh, the first and perhaps last they would share as friends. The Joker had changed their worlds forever. After this night the Domino’s would fall and there was no stopping them. It seemed like the Joker would win.



“Master Bruce excuse the interruption but I picked up something very interesting on the radio frequency.” Alfred rushed into the room looking highly frazzled.



“What is it Alfred?”



Bruce and Katarina walked into the pent house following Alfred to hear the mysterious message.



“ 8 and Orchard, you’ll find Harvey Dent there”



The message made Katarina’s blood run cold. She looked at Bruce his expression mirrored her own feelings.



“You suit up, I’ll get Gordon and the other” Katarina said as she made her way out the door not waiting for a response. Without Harvey everything would be ruined, oh god poor Rachel she will be distraught if anything happens to him. She rushed out of the elevator and gave the valet her ticket number and waited impatiently for him to return.



‘Please God for all of Gotham’s sake let Harvey be okay”

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The Joker closed the stolen cell phone, having made his cryptic call concerning Harvey Dent and turned back to the child that was huddle at the foot of his bed. He looked like a scared rabbit who had stepped into a fox den. He shivered and quaked with fright and cold, his eyes followed all of the Joker’s movements.



‘What am I going to do with this kid for 48 hours?’

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Chapter Fourteen: A Crash Course In Parenthood!



“Ya got any three’s?” a tongue slithered to out to moisten cracked crimson lips.



“Go fish!” was the overjoyed reply



There was no way this kid was telling the truth. He had to be cheating. For the past hour and a half he had been losing, quite badly at that, to an eight year child at Go Fish! He the most brilliant strategist criminal master mind was losing at GO FISH!



Grumbling the Joker extended his hand to draw a card from the yellowed mismatched deck that he had found months ago in the room he had claimed his own. He had drawn a Queen of spades. The edges of the cards were tattered and crinkled where the plastic and paper meet. An odor, similar to one of an old book, was given of when he moved his spread cards closer to his smudged face.



“Got any Queen’s?”



J.C was enjoying himself. He could never beat his mother at Go Fish, even when he did he got the distinct feeling that she had allowed him the small victory. The gentle, slightly mocking smile she gave him was evidence for that.



But not Mr. Joker



The tall man before him sitting cross legged on the to soft spring mattress had no reason to give him a victory. J.C was beating him all on his own. The muddy green eyed gaze of his opponent narrowed as he handed over two of his cards. J.C beamed and took the cards, he had the Queen of Hearts and clovers in his hand. He laid his newly acquired cards, the Lady of Hearts and Spades, to his ever growing pile of quartets.



J.C couldn’t believe that he was here in his dusty room poorly lit by the light of an un-shaded lamp playing cards with the man who had taken him away from his mother. But he was. And he was enjoying it immensely. He was warm and happy in this child-like man’s presence.



His old damp clothes had been throw to a corner and replaced by a large purple dress shirt with a hexagon pattern. The oversized garment fell to his knees. His cold feet had gone warm from the pair of mismatched green socks on his feet. The also too large knit material almost stretched to his knees. Finally a worn brown flannel quilt was wrapped around him for extra warmth for the chilly interior of…where ever he was.



He had expected every thing but kindness when he had been carried like a potato sack into the room…

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The large imposing man closed the small rectangular phone with a sharp clasp. J.C sat huddled at the foot of a queen sized bed. The aged wood felt worn and grainy as it rubbed against his back.



Languorous steps brought his capture closer to him, the unhurried and lazy strides made the dusty wooden floors creak under the shifting weight. Bringing his knees closer to his chest J.C never let his gaze wander from the eyes that mirrored his own.



The material of his dark plum pants bunched as he crouched before the small hunched boy. A puzzled look on his face. The boy was not in very bad shape, a few bruises and scraps here and there, the one thing that looked rather painful was the large, forming, blue-black bruise on his left cheek. His knees bled sluggishly, coagulating as it healed, the dirt around it may cause infecting if not treated. The same could be said about his elbows.



Without an uttered word the Joker sprang back to his feet and walked to one of two other doors in the relatively compact room. The small rumble of clutter being moved was faint from inside the room, the room was dark, lit only by the light of the main room. Joker came back into the room his arms littered with various, opened and used, medical items. Cotton balls, bandages, antiseptic, and a small white tube were among them.



“Get on the bed.”



The boy feigned ignorant and did not so much as tremble.



“I said, Get on the bed boy”



For a few moments the boy did not move, then slowly, his motions full of hesitation the blonde child rose on shaky legs. He scooted shyly onto the edge of the mattress and remained there.



Depositing his bundle beside the boy the Clown Prince of Crime crouched once again, this time level with the boys skinned knees. He took a large blue bottle of antiseptic and unscrewed the white cap.



“This might, uh, sting!” the prospect of pain brought a chuckle out of the mad man.



Dripping translucent drops on antiseptic onto the fluffy white cotton ball the Joker clenched the small boys calf, a precaution so that no wiry limbs would kick his face: by accident. The small wince from he boy made the Joker lighten his touch. Why make the boy suffer now when soon…well soon he would suffer enough pain.



He dabbed and swiveled the cotton ball until all the dirt and grim were washed out of the wound. A bit of anti-bacteria cream, also a scar healing medication, was applied next in a thick layer on the boys knee. Last a plain square bandage was place atop the wound. The Joker repeated the process with the boys other knee and his two elbows.



Neither spoke for the duration of the patch up job. The Joker hummed an unrecognizable tune, the ever present smile on his face contrasted with the look of concentration in his eyes. He wiped his hands on his trousers and tossed the medical supplies to the side.



J.C shivered, he was so very cold. The terror and the adrenaline derived from that terror had given him a temporary warmth. Now, though, his damp clothes and the cold night was taking its toll on his small thin body.



“Ya, uh, cold kid?”



The boy nodded, better to cooperate with this man. He had not hurt him as long as he followed instruction. The Joker, J.C had come to learn, like to be in control. Follow the rules and your as safe as you can be in the clutches of a madman.



“I’m wet” he quietly said



“Well then, take off those rags before ya, uh, freeze silly”



J.C had half mind to ignore him again but didn’t want to test the clown’s patience. He shakily rose and took of his wet t-shirt, his jacket had been left at school. His pants went down next, socks and shoes followed. He kept his underwear which was only slightly damp, his arms wrapped around his small frame.



“Here we go!”



The Joker threw a bundle of clothes at, an array of purple and green colors. He caught the clothes and wasted no time in getting dressed. The temperature had dropped dramatically even wet clothes were better then no clothes. When he was fully dressed the two carbon copies looked at each other, what to do now? Minutes ticked by, neither one moved.



“So…can ya play poker?”



“I know Go Fish.”

Both sat on the bed and began to play a very aggressive game of Go Fish.

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“I’m tired of this game.” the war painted man threw down his cards and pouted.



The boy, a huge joyous grin on his face, gathered the cards and shuffled them skillfully. The mischievous look in his eyes and his rosy cheeks were growing on the Joker. The kid was okay, too bad his mommy had pissed him off.



“How bout a round of Black Jack?”



“Your on kid”

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The rising sun’s orange glow awoke Katarina from her coma like sleep, she was in a strange room, slumped in a plushy chair . It took her a few minutes for her to make sense of what was happening. Yesterday’s Harvey Dent alarm had been a fake but the warning in the paper was a new cause of worry. Not only that but the tribute was today, the day she was to reveal Batman’s secret. In the last 24 hours the Joker had uprooted not only her life but the very sanity of Gotham. God save them



After going to her car to radio in the warning, Katarina had gone back up to the Pent house, determined to wait for Bruce’s return. She must have fallen asleep, the muscles in her neck protested as she tried to stretch out the kinks. She raised her arms and swung them from left to right, cracking her spine.



“Good morning Miss, would you like a bit of breakfast.” Alfred walked into the room tray and paper bag in hand. He placed the tray on the coffee table in front of her.



“Morning Alfred breakfast sounds lovely, where’s Bruce, what time is it?” she took a bit of an apple Danish from the assorted breakfast foods and a cup of coffee to wash it down.



“It is 9 in the morning. Master Wayne asked me to show you to the warehouse as soon as your done.”



“Warehouse?”



“Our headquarters if you will.”



“Oh…” Katarina polished of the rest of the Danish and picked up a cinnamon bun, despair and sorrow sure gives a girl an appetite. After finishing off her sweet breakfast Katarina rose from her seat, brushing crumbs of her rumpled apparel.



“Miss Rachel dropped of some clothes for you earlier. Something suitable for the tribute.” Alfred handed Katarina the paper bag he had been holding since his entrance.



“Oh God bless Rachel. How did she know I was here?”



“Master Wayne received an S.O.S from Miss Rachel who was in near hysterics when you didn’t come home.”



“Oops, I’ll apologize when I see her at the tribute. Alfred why didn’t you wake me up?”



“You looked peaceful for a moment, I could not bring you back to the harsh reality. Forgive me Miss.”



“Thank you Alfred. I’ll change and then we can leave”



“Very well Miss. The bathroom is down the hall and to your left. I’ll start the Royce.



Katarina emerged from the bathroom in a pair of black social pants, wide bottom, and a burgundy blouse with a black sleeveless jacked above it. Rachel had packed her make-up bag along with her clothes. She decided she was going to buy Rachel a huge Christmas present in a month.



“If I’m here in a moth that is.”

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J.C had spent an almost sleepless night harassing the Joker in Black Jack, then Gin, and finally the clown taught him Poker, which after a few practice hands he had also come to master.



They had eaten their own body weights in Twinkies and Ho-ho’s, washing it down with convenience store Cola until J.C felt like he was going to puke all over the Joker’s bed sheets. When that feeling passed he ate some more. The sugar rush lasted until the wee hours of the night, making J.C a exceedingly happy child. The merciless beating he was giving the Joker also helped--just a bit.



Around four in the morning he had finally lost the battle with exhaustion. After reassuring the Joker that, “My mom beats me all the time too. Don’t feel bad, Night Mister J” he dropped his head on an surrendered to a happy sleep. His young age, the late hour and the stress of the day put him out like a light. In the middle of the Joker’s bed.



“Night Mister J” the Joker grumbled and mocked the sleeping boy in a high childish voice. “Little hustler”



The wiry frame of the Joker rose in a graceful stumble as weeks of insomnia and a crashing sugar high took their toll on his abused and misused body. Locking the door to his sanctuary the Joker walked in slow purposeful measure steps to his office. Without the child to keep him occupied the Joker could revise and fine tune some last minute details of his assassination of the Mayor. He would turn this little plan they had created to try and form a silver lining and make it combust in their faces. He hated schemers.



Today was the day he would send Gotham’s Knights into the pits of despair and madness. He would also be ride himself of a certain delicious little trollop and her bouncing baby boy. It was to bad really, she looked like a great lay and the boy wasn’t too bad.



Today was a glorious day to cause a little havoc, bit of mayhem and blow up a building or two. No doubt the Batman had analyzed the crime scene by now and was scratching his brain over how he would succeed in killing the heavily guarded mayor.



The darling mother must be distraught over her son. There was no way she could get Batman’s identity in time, he was a man of his word and she could not win in this situation. He wanted her and her son gone and so tada they would be.



Today he was going to light the fire that would bring Gotham to its knees, crumbling into ash as all burned around him. Chaos would reign supreme in him again, the Joker kept repeating the same phrase over and over again “everyone eventually surrenders…”

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A/N: This is smack-dab in the middle of the movie. Everything will be a bit more fast paced from here. I will post the drawings by my loving husband on my profile or you can PM me if you want them.



Since this took so long I’ll update after 5 reviews but don’t get use to it!