Bruce had been wrong. Sleep came much easier than he expected it to. After a few minutes his mind worked itself out to the point where he couldn't think about anything anymore. Unconsciousness took over like a wave.

He slept well into the next morning, waking to find signs that Alfred had come and gone. His suit had been picked up off the floor and arranged into a tidy pile on a nearby chair. Breakfast was waiting on a pan at a nearby table. He didn't feel hungry at all; in fact, mentally he felt very much like he did the night before. Physically he was well rested, and he was grateful for that if nothing else. Pulling himself out of bed was a slow process, but he did it, then made his way to the shower immediately.

The water was just this side of scalding hot, and Bruce liked it that way. Washing the grime off his face and body was a slow, arduous task. There seemed to be layers of it. The grease paint around his eyes had slid down his cheeks and across his forehead. His hair was slick with dried sweat, and his arms and legs fared no better. It was like heaven to wash it all off. Finally, he was relaxing a bit. His head was still numb, but Bruce had always been a very physical person. His body could be trained to withstand generous amounts of pain, but it positively melted at the relief of warm flowing water.

He stayed in the shower longer than was necessary, moving slowly when it came time to turn off the valves and grab a large towel. Bruises riddled his arms and chest, next to the older ones still healing. He realized that he had caused some of them himself while getting carried away. After drying off, he pulled on a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt. Alfred had apparently cleaned the armor of his suit as well as putting it aside. Funny how he felt a little extra pang of guilt about that. He sat down at the small coffee table, taking the plate of breakfast over and picking through it. Last night was beginning to replay itself inside his head.

The incarcerated man had slept the same way he usually did: fitfully, wavering in and out of consciousness. At some point during the night he had assumed that his captor had dozed off and finished his earlier fishing for a steel spring. He'd fiddled with the pieces holding the remains of the handcuffs before he decided he liked the look and left it alone. The rest of his time had been spent poking into the cell's security. Satisfied that he'd figured out a goodly bit of how the gadgetry in the door worked, he'd decided that he was content to stay in the little box for awhile, dozing off again for the...9th? 15th? time. He'd calculated that it must be sometime in the morning, and he didn't want to get caught before he had the chance for more fun.

Temperature dipping as it always did when he slept, his unconscious body shivered and curled in upon itself with the lack of blankets or clothing to retain the heat. Sleep was the one time when a smile wasn't ready at hand; his expression looked almost hunted, muscles nervously twitching every so often.

Starting awake again, memories of the dreams vanishing like wisps of smoke as soon as consciousness returned, Joker frowned and rolled off the cot, rubbing his arms to rid himself of the gooseflesh. Nobody had returned in quite a few hours, and he was getting bored. Retrieving the impromptu lockpick from the hole dug in the mattress, he poked a few select places in the door and was rewarded with a click. Shoving the spring back into its hiding place, he opened the door and walked nonchalantly out, wondering what sort of interesting things he could find in the home of another freak like himself.

Turning things over and over inside Bruce's head was not helping in the least. He was so absorbed by it that he didn't notice Alfred entering the room until a polite cough made his head snap up to attention.

"It's been a while since I've gotten the jump on you, sir," Alfred mused.

Bruce pulled his mouth into a half smile that he knew the older man would see straight through. "I suppose it has. Lot on my mind...."

"I can see that," Alfred clasped his hands together and lifted his head a little, arching his eyebrows at Bruce. "You don't need me to tell you to to be more careful, especially when it concerns criminals like that man in the cell downstairs," his prim British accent never fluctuated, "but you might want to think about that a little harder, especially when you have me go over the security footage in the morning."

Bruce visibly cringed.

Giggling at the wide, open dark space, Joker spread his arms out and twirled in a circle, delighted when his laughter echoed back to him. Wandering over to the computer terminals and screens, he played around with the controls, confirming his suspicions about the camera in the room and playing with the other cameras that were sending feeds. His glee only increased as he converted every sight to memory, recognizing some of the places he was seeing... and growing intrigued at some of the others.

"Alfred......" he had no rightly idea what to say, or how to explain himself, but the butler just nodded and rocked on his heels a bit.

"Just keep that in mind next time, shall we?" Always so understanding. Bruce felt the tension ease inside him.

"Right." He set the plate down, no longer willing to try eating all of it. "We're going to have to get in touch with Gordon soon, see about turning him over. How is our guest doing, anyway?"

Giggling to himself, Joker watched the two little figures on the screen, fiddling with the controls. Hearing the tinny audio filtering in, he laughed even harder, trying to find if this little spy-eye had the same properties as the one in his cell. Pushing buttons experimentally, there was a crackling and a few clicks in the breakfast room before a familiar voice filtered through, muffled laughter quietly filling the room. "....eheh. He-...heheheh... I don't know, why don't you come down and find out? Or are you afraid to come down without all your gear? I don't have rabies, crossss...my heart." There were a few more clicks of what sounded like buttons. "...whatsis... *bang*.... OH. Heheh...."

Bruce's head shot up and he was on his feet in an instant. That voice was unmistakable, and it was coming through loud and clear over the intercom. "Stay here!" he said to Alfred while wracking his mind for the locations of the video cameras throughout the penthouse. He didn't know how long ago the Joker had broken out of the cell, nor how long he'd been watching he and Alfred converse. It couldn't have been that long ago, dammit, not if Alfred had been going through the security footage earlier. He didn't even know if the Joker had gotten a clear view of their faces or not, but he wanted to get out of there faster than ever. Quickly he grabbed the suit off of the chair, chucking his shirt and pulling on armor as he ran out into the corridor. He headed straight for the window, having gotten most of the suit on and mask firmly in place. Hating doing this in the middle of the day, but seeing no other option, he threw open the latch and took off toward the warehouse.

Chuckling to himself, Joker took off into the machinery, fixated on finding a spot to hide so they could begin the game of cat-and-mouse. Finding handholds in the cave wall, he climbed up a ways, shooing a few bats out of a small crevice before settling in the dark ledge within. One of them had to be the Bat... and I'm not placing my bets on the old geezer...

Heart pounding all the while, Bruce waited in the longest lift ride he'd ever taken. Once down into the main underground area, he hit the lights, covering everything in pitch darkness. Inside the mask, he had installed a night vision interface. He only hoped that the Joker hadn't gotten hold of anything....more useful. Quietly he made his way through the large, open room, housing the large vehicle and not much else, then into the smaller, adjacent areas. The main room had been finished up quite well, but the rest he'd left as they were, caves. He lurked in corners, falling easily back into the sync of moving, breathing, listening.... Overhead, bats rustled, some of them took off, startled by something.

He'd had to clap a hand over his mouth as the lights were suddenly swallowed as soon as the familiar dark form came down from a lift. So that's where he flaps off to... Shuffling back until he was pressed back against the cold, damp stone, he waited, listening to see what the man would do next when he couldn't readily find him. Come and get me, Bats...

Bruce's eyes scanned carefully over shapes and shadows, concentrating, focusing on the quietest sound of breath that was not his own. The night vision gave him an edge for sure, but everything he saw was awash in green. He turned round and round; there was the Batpod monitor, the surveillance system, thick chords and wires wrapped together and going up, up into the crevices of rock where bats flitted, and a grotesque smile stared down at him.

Breathing quietly as he listened intently, eyes still desperately trying to adjust to the switch from day to night, part of him was trying to figure out what he'd do should the vigilante find him holed up near the ceiling.

Alarms went off in his head when he caught sight of glittering eyes and that mad grin, sporting a dress that was far too short to be worn at such a high hiding place. Batman rushed forward, launching off one of the monitor tables to reach the Joker's position, grabbing hold of him and pulling them both down to the ground once more.

Suddenly jerked from his position and coming to rest with a jolt on the ground, Joker flinched. "....ow. You never want to place nice, do you? For someone with such fancy digs, life sure seems to piss you off..." He licked his lips, chuckling nervously. "By the way, how was.... breakfast? Anything good in the paper? 'Unlikely duo cause breakout at Arkham'? Heheheh..."

Bruce dragged the Joker to his feet, seeing to it that he wasn't about to pry himself free and quickly looking his body up and down for weapons. He could see nothing visible. Not liking the Joker's accurate assessment of the situation at all, he gave only a short reply, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. One way or another, you're going back where you belong." He forced the Joker's arms behind his back and gripped them tightly so that he could have the man walk in front of him. He used his free arm to turn on the lights once more.

"And where is that, Bats? Locked up in the Loony Bin and put on the freak display?" he asked, humor wrapped around his words. "You know, everyone out there thinks you're just as much a freak-" Lick."...as I am. And what a warm reception I would get. 'Tell me, how'd it feel to stab that nurse? How do you know the Bat? Here's a few drugs to loosen that laughing tongue of yours...'" Turning his head to trying to get a glimpse of the taller man, the grin he shot over his shoulder was completely insane. "What do you think? Should I tell them your brown hair matches the decor quite nicely, but your... elderly butler?... is a bit of a humorless stiff?"

"Shut up." Bruce was furious. Absolutely furious. His head reeled at the vision his rival brought to mind. But, he hadn't....he hadn't said "Bruce Wayne" yet. Still, Bruce's heart was sinking. It wouldn't be long for the pieces of the puzzle to come together, if not for the Joker than for someone else he told once released into police custody. Maybe he had recognized Bruce, and just wasn't saying? God, he wouldn't be able to tell unless he could read the madman's mind, something he wasn't very keen on doing to begin with. He took a pair of handcuffs, much sturdier than police grade, from a closet of supplies, and dragged the Joker back to his cell, latching him to the metal frame of the cot. He released the man physically, but lingered close, threatening. "Tell me, Joker, what did you see?"

Unable to stand up with the confinement on his wrist, he decided to relax against the wall, flicking an amused smile up at the fuming man. "Wouldn't you like to know. I might tell you, but you'll have to persuade me." Raising his free hand with a warning finger as he saw the hero twitch, he tsked. "And using the punching bag technique, fun though it might be sometimes, won't work for you this time. Besides, what would the hired help think?"

"How, then?" Bruce was sincerely curious. "What does a man like you want?" Before Alfred had told him that it was a lost cause, that was exactly what Bruce had been set on finding out months ago, back when he was chasing the Joker down for the first time. He wasn't sure if Alfred's explanation satisfied him; now that curiosity was piqued again.

Smile widening, he beckoned the dark figure closer. "That's more like it. Come closer and I'll tell you. I promise - I won't bite unless you want me to. Scout's-" his jaw clicked, raising his free hand in a caricature of the two-fingered salute. "...honor."

Always mocking. Bruce quelled a spell of frustration, deciding instead to meet the challenge. His lip curled and he crouched down to the Joker's level, inclining his head with his chin lifted in defiance. "Like this?" He prepared for an attack, hands twitching at his sides in anticipation, held out apart from his sides, anxious for it.

Leaning forward, he flinched and laughed as Bruce's arms twitched and started to counterattack. "Whoa, whoa. Easy there. If that's your idea of fun, we can have another go later when I'm healed." Swiping his tongue over his lips, he inched closer until their foreheads were almost touching. "That's better. What do I want, you ask?" A chuckle. "Just the same thing as everyone else; a little fun before they kick the bucket. If you play along and make the game interesting, I think you'll find I'm quite-...willing. To answer. Do things. Cooperate. All that jazz."

"Is this the same game we've been playing all along?" Batman stilled his hands, but was a ball of tension all around, unwilling to relax in the Joker's presence. He couldn't imagine for a moment the Joker prepared to cooperate. He was sure that they both knew this. He was looking for the catch.

"You mean you didn't know?" The grin widened. "I thought you knew. You have more walls in your head than I thought..." Tilting his head thoughtfully, a mischievous flicker passed through insane green eyes. "By the way..." Leaning closer and to one side until his mouth was level with where one of the Bat's ears should be, he watched the man's expression out of the corner of his eyes. "....you forgot your eyeblack this time, Bruce. I could lend you some of mine, but I think you took it with the knives....eheheheh...."

Bruce's hands caught the Joker by his shirt and shook. "You really don't want to get out of here, do you?" he growled. His plans for the Joker were shot to hell. There was no way he could send the man back to the police like he was, and Bruce's principles kept him from entertaining......less respectable ways of keeping the Joker quiet.

His smile was suddenly gone, the man looking eerily lucid. "I don't want to go back to that padded excuse for an exhibit display, no. You and I both know you can't send me away now, and you don't have the heart to off me. You still think you're something a step above the rest of us. So..." Smile sliding back into place, his eyes glittered as his gaze bored into angry brown. "It looks like you're stuck with playing."

This wouldn't be the first time in his life that Bruce had been blackmailed, and he told himself so firmly. "Alright." He released the Joker, pushing him back on the cot like something he didn't want to touch anymore. "I can keep you here for as long as you like." He stood, setting his expression, trying not to let the Joker realize how rattled he was.

"'Keep you here'", he chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "You sound like someone deciding to buy a bird to put in a cage." Licking his lips again, he leaned forward, resting one arm on his knee and letting his gaze fall briefly to the floor before giving the other man a rebellious look. "I don't get caged so easily anymore. You'll play, or I'll slip through your fingers like so much sand." Smirking, he shook his head.

All this man cared about was games, and Bruce didn't even know what kind of game he wanted to play with Batman. Like Joker had once said, they were the very models of force and anti-force. "Give me a good reason to let you go." Bruce said as he turned to the door, already planning security upgrades.

The Joker moved like a thin whip of energy; The cot came with him in a screech of metal, tethered hand going to Bruce's waist as the other wrapped around his shoulder. "I don't think you quite understand, Bat..."

Startled, Bruce barely restrained himself from kicking the Joker's feet out from under him and knocking him to the floor. It was strange that the madman's actions thus far had not been violent toward Batman. The hands sliding over his shoulder and resting at his waist were not intending harm as far as he could tell, and this did not make sense to Bruce's hostility riddled mind. The Joker was right. Alfred had been right. "No. I don't understand."

Resting his chin on the other man's shoulder, mind swirling with curious questions and ideas and barely contained excitement, his arms tightened, drawing the armored man closer. Touching that close, it became apparent just how much the man was one bundle of nervous energy, muscles almost imperceptibly shaking, heartbeat racing in some manic sweep of emotions. "As much as you deny it, as much as you think otherwise... we're the same, you and I. It's like some-" Lick. "Delicious twist of fate; two shattered souls and one dark, sleezeball metropolis. Mix well before serving. No, no... you don't see it yet. Too many walls. Besides, you think you can tie me down?" A laugh. "You don't need a 'good reason to let me go', Bats. You need to give me a good reason to stay put..."

What the Joker was doing, this closeness pressing their bodies together, arms encircling him, felt nothing like what had occurred between them last night. This had a false sense of intimacy to it, and Bruce was ashamed to be caught between revulsion and a tiny, tingling bit of.....relief? A fake hug to tell him that the Joker had forgiven him for nearly trying to kill him last night, and almost getting off on it, too? Ah, but there was a catch. He was saying that it was alright for Bruce to be like him. And Bruce wasn't, he wasn't, goddammit. "No," it was spoken calmly, "I am nothing like you." He grasped the Joker's hands and pulled them from his body slowly, putting space between them as he did so.

"Whatever you say, whatever you say..." Laughter shook him, the shivers passing through his arms into Bruce's hands. "You have a bit of fight in you. I like that. It'd be too... disappointing... easy if you didn't have a little spirit to you..."

Bruce turned then, leaving the Joker behind. There was no convincing him; Bruce saw the difference as clearly as night and day, but in the Joker's mind things were skewed. He sealed the door behind him, considering screwing it shut as well, never to open again. Carefully he scrutinized the lock, trying to imagine how the Joker had escaped. How would he have escaped? It was going to have to be reinforced somehow, and soon. He set about finding materials to ad to the cell while his mind wandered to the future of Bruce Wayne.

Joker contented himself with peering out the porthole, still laughing under his breath as he watched the dark shape outside nervously try to figure out how he'd slipped the trap. Oh, you're going to have to think a lot harder, Bats...

Three steel bars and a plethora of massive screws later, Bruce felt satisfied that the Joker could not force the door open while Batman was away. This was far from ideal. Until he installed something more efficient, Bruce would have to unscrew and take down the bars every time he wished to enter the cell, but he was fairly confident in his ability to physically overpower the Joker if it came to that. What he needed most was to make sure the Joker couldn't escape while he was away. After he had bolted the bars into place he stood back, taking stock. The Joker had been watching him through the window, but he pointedly ignored the man. He would need nothing short of dynamite to get out of there.

Rapping on the porthole, irritated that the man wasn't paying any attention, he waited until the hero's eyes flicked up... and then displayed two cuffless wrists through the little window, laughter echoing out of the cell before he suddenly vanished from the porthole view.

Bruce's eyes twitched, and after the Joker could no long see him he squeezed them shut and let out a heavy sigh. It was time to get in touch with Gordon, so he left for the main operations room. But when he got there, he found he couldn't make the call. He sat staring at the dial pad, turning the situation over in his mind. If he warned Gordon of the situation before he turned the Joker in, it was possible he could keep the lunatic quiet. It was not, however, likely. He pulled off the mask and pressed his hands to his forehead, cursing himself over and over again for letting the situation get so completely out of hand. The truth was that he didn't know what he was going to do. The Joker had the perfect leverage on him now, and there was nothing he could do to stop him from using it short of locking him up in this cave forever and ever. He sat back in his chair, watching through the camera inside the cell. He stared, not scrutinizing, letting his eyes roam over the figure as a whole. Mop of lank hair, bloody, dirty dress that had once upon a time been white, fingers that never held still, flashing eyes.... The Joker liked his games; Bruce had the inkling that he might have to buckle down and play along if he was going to win.

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