Chapter Text
Batman let out a great, long, sigh. His partner, Joker, had taken acid again and reverted to his old ways. Commissioner Gordon had alerted him of a call to his office from an unknown number, and Batman rushed to the phone at once. The commissioner had him listen to a short minute of what the Joker was demanding. Bruce didn’t want to wait, he already knew where Joker was. Alfred had alerted him.
“Oh I decided to give you a present, Commissioner, for being so nice to me all these years…” The joker giggled, his voice tinny over the phone. Bruce felt his heart sink. He had been right to suit up the moment he walked into the living room to see his lover and instead found a plastic bag with a few tiny squares of paper in it on the couch. He had hung up his phone, and rushed to the back rooms of the mansion.
Joker sometimes did this. He had mostly been rehabilitated, and found his own love with Bruce. But sometimes he relapsed. Bruce wasn’t mad, he wasn’t even disappointed. Worried. All he felt was worry for Joker. Worried for what he could do to himself if he wasn’t caught in time. Usually, he was also worried about what he could do to someone else but today, Joker had not managed to leave the manor.
Alfred had managed to wrangle a swap, where Joker, incredibly intoxicated, had not recognized that he was not in fact, in the renaissance wing of the Gotham City Museum, but was in Alfred’s painting studio. Joker and Alfred’s relationship was strained, to say the least, but Bruce appreciated his resolute devotion to the Waynes. Restraining himself, Alfred had contacted Batman, and hidden himself in a safe room connected to his studio. Batman got there in less than a minute, standing outside the door of Alfred’s studio. There was a landline outside the door. Bruce had phones all over the mansion, including the halls, in case a client needed to contact him. He snatched the phone and listened in on line 1, where he could hear Joker’s nasally voice, edged with delirium.
“I intend to present you with the entire Renaissance collection of the Gotham City Museum, as a gift!”
“Renaissance art collection?” Gordon said in bewilderment, “How did you-”
“Ah, nevermind how, Commissioner!” Joker cut him off, his voice dropping an octave, delighted, “I’ve got it, and now, I’m giving it to you! Now, isn’t that nice of me? Of course, there is a slight delivery charge… about ten million dollars payable within an hour, or I burn the entire collection.”
Bruce breathed calmly, listening both through the phone, and hearing the Joker speak from through the curtained door of Alfred’s studio. He crept through the curtain, and could see Joker’s back. Joker’s voice had faded into a hot, nearly cartoonish malice towards the end of his demand. He would have to handle this delicately. He thought carefully. In the past, it had sometimes helped if he played into the Joker’s old life. But sometimes it didn’t. Bruce stood stonily, debating what to do as he listened to commissioner Gordon speak with his usual disdain.
“When Batman gets his hands on you…”
“Batman? Hah!” Joker laughed. “That cowardly creep, He’s so scared, he won’t come out of his batcave. Oho… You might as well forget help from Batman, Commissioner, and start thinking about my ten million.”
Batman turned subtly as Joker was ranting, trying to gather a plan, and saw, to his surprise, a painted bust of Joker's head. He wondered briefly why Alfred would have made this. No matter. He turned it around. There was no need to have two Jokers looking at him when he confronted his love. He had made up his mind about what to do. He pressed the button that allowed him to speak in the call with the other two.
“Good evening Joker.” Batman said through the telephone
“Oh! Oh, Batman! You’re on the line too” Joker said with an elated tone, a sort of affection oozing from him. Batman would have smiled at the endearing tone if the situation weren’t so serious. “Oh… Well, hiding out in the commissioners office, ay? Hehehe…”
“I hope you don’t mind, Joker.” Batman said, a bit of Bruce Wayne coming out in his tone.
The Joker’s tone darkened, becoming more aggressive, his words more emphatic. “Oho, you better stay inside, batboob, because if I catch you outside, I’m going to pin your pointed ears back, you hear?”
“Of course, Joker.” Batman said calmly, his eyes never leaving the back of Joker's head. “What’s this I hear about stolen paintings?”
“Oh, I have dozens of them,” Joker squeaked, “Each one an old master.”
“You don’t say…” Batman spoke softly, humoring him.
“Yes, I do say…” Joker said, trailing off.
Joker removed the phone from his ear, and leaned over one of the paintings, which had been draped over with a cloth. Removing the cloth, he gasped in horror. Instead of a Da Vinci, the painting was of a small boat in the ocean, shadowed by a massive whale. Alfred had signed the corner in all caps with thin white paint. Bruce smiled rather ruefully. Alfred did not like sharing his paintings with Bruce, and would certainly be embarrassed he had seen them, but Bruce had always been very curious. It was nice to see some of the things Alfred did for himself, even though he knew the very act of him seeing them must have been against Alfred’s wishes.
Rushing to a second painting, Joker pulled off the cloth, wailing as he viewed a rather adorable painting of a light baby elephant following its mother through the mud. Joker laughed breathily, something in him slipping slightly as he grabbed the phone once more.
“Ough!” Joker cried in anguish, waving his arms in frustration. “You cape clad fool! You switched paintings on me! These are nothing but kindergarten drawings!”
“Naturally.” Bruce said into the phone. There wasn’t time to unpack the layers of artistry really at play with Alfred’s work. He would be sure Joker understood that lesson later, if Alfred allowed it. "And even a kindergarten mind could have anticipated your every move. This caper was... even more obvious than most." Batman said, his voice serious. It was tiring, chasing the Joker around like this. He just wanted Joker to be safe.
The Joker responded, his tinny voice echoing through the landline at a slight lag from the sound coming straight from his painted lips, mocking and derisive. "Oh, you can say that over the phone Batman, but if I had you here I'd pound you to a pulp!" He slammed the telephone down onto the receiver, wheezing a small cackle as he did so, playing with his cuffs, as if to assure himself that he was truly devious.
Batman set his telephone down on the hook, and spoke loudly, to ensure that the Joker would hear him.
"Start pounding, Joker."
Joker shrieked, and turned around, putting his hands up in fright. His eyes darted towards the doors like a caged animal. As Batman was standing in front of the curtained exit, Joker began to run for the door which he must have been hoping was an alternate exit. Batman took several firm, rapid steps forwards, and clutched Joker around the chest. The door Joker had been headed towards was the closet that led to the safe room Alfred was in. Batman was concerned what Alfred might do if confronted directly with the crazed Joker. He knew the man could handle himself, but he wasn’t likely to be looking out for Joker’s best interests.