The Dark Knight

[Nikki]

"A-okay, Mistah J," I say, but I can barely contain myself. "How much longer?"

[boo radley]

I look at my watch. "Well... given that little, uh, GCN intervention, I'd put it at an hour." I grin.

[Nikki]

"I can't wait that long," I pout.

[boo radley]

"Neither can I, but here I am." I sigh. "We could always... blow a truck up in the meantime." I shrug.

[Nikki]

"It's not enough," I say, suddenly quiet. "Not now."
Suddenly it's like when you were a little kid, and you had those fireworks that sparked when you threw them on the ground- but then there were the big, illegal ones and you couldn't get enough of the danger and color of those. I wanted something to go horribly wrong, all the time. My appetite was insatiable.

[boo radley]

I get where she's coming. Story of my life... all the time. I ponder for a bit. "The thing about... all of this... is that you've gotta save the funnies for the big punch line. Reveal it too early, and it's not worth a damn thing."

[Nikki]

I drink in every word he says lately. And although I don't like it, I nod. "Okay," I say.

[boo radley]

(~timeskip~)

I wake up.

This time, it feels different. Surreal. I turn over and look to my right. A solid, white-bricked wall. To my left, another solid, white-bricked wall. And to my front, bars.

I'm in a cage. A high-security cage.

Next thing I know, I'm laughing like a maniac. Wait.

Well, well, well. So the Bat decides to drop me off a tower, and this is what I get? Locked up at Blackgate Penitentiary? What about the guy who tried to commit homicide? Considering he stopped it from happening... well, let's just say I can't stop laughing.

I was prepared for Arkham and the holding cells. Not this. Blackgate's in the middle of the Gotham Bay. Escaping would mean I'd have to make a nice, clean swan dive off of the top of the building. Wooohooohoohoo! That means, oh, I dunno, jumping into water so fast you feel like your face is getting hit by bricks.

Let's go for it.

And then I turn to look around. It looks like I'm the only one in any of the cells up on this floor, surrounded by security bozos, SWAT chuckleheads, and police morons. And the Commish.

They talk hush-hush, as if I won't ever know what they're talking about. "...We'll have to get a psychoanalysis done..." "...No treatment for this makeup-wearing fucker..." "...Gonna get a burrito. You guys want anything?"

"Ah, Jimbo," I say, clearing my throat, trying to bring my hand up to move the hair out of my face. That's when I realize that I'm in a straitjacket. I clear my throat again. "Hem. Jimboni. I want some water."

[Nikki]

I wake up kicking a chair leg and shouting, "Fire."
I don't know why.
It's very dim in this room. I can't move my body. I look down and see the complicated crisscross of white straps and silver buckles, and start breathing heavily.
The first thing I wonder is what day it is. I don't know why that seems so important, either.
Then I glance up and notice a female police officer staring at me from the other side of the bars.
She doesn't say anything, just looks at me with those wise, dark eyes. I squint to read her nametag: Ramirez.
I haven't felt this hopeless in a long time, and I've been in a lot of hopeless situations.

[boo radley]

Gordon doesn't pay me any attention, up until he sees my eyes. "Get this son of a bitch some water." And with that, he leaves. But not before turning to someone else, saying, "Gonna check on the accomplice." I'll bet my big, red smile that he's talking about Harley. For some reason, that doesn't sit too well with me. But it's not the opportune moment to try to bust out.

I'm in a straitjacket, for crying out loud. Heh. Well, I really am crying out loud. With agonizing laughter.

One of the cops on my floor looks... familiar. Too familiar. I grin wide. This man is part of my little... crew.