Rome

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"Look, just 'cause we're cured doesn't mean the trip is over! Let's go to London, play Jack the ripper versus Sherlock Holmes! C'mon -- let's have some fun!"

I know as soon as I say it how he feels about it.  His body language says it all. As soon as he has his strength back I'm going to be shipped back to Arkham with broken ribs. I feel an overwhelming sense of resentment well up inside me.  Maybe I don't want to go. Maybe I'm fed up of playing our game by his rules. I recon it's about time I had my turn. The big bad Bat looms above me, baring his teeth in a way that reminds me of  stray dogs that you see prowling through the streets. Mean and blood thirsty. I laugh at the reference to our recent predicament, realising too late that it would only make matters worse. Batsy never gets the joke or if he does he never finds it funny. Luckily I've got a sense of humour big enough for both of us. "Yes. Let's have some fun" he growls as he leaps forwards. Unfortunately for him I've always been the faster out of the two of us. 

Whipping a small perfume bottle out of one of my many pockets I spray him full in the face then I stand back to watch as the knock out gas begins to take effect. He fights hard against it, grabbing me by the jacket and lifting me off the ground, but ultimately the combined pressure of the gas and the lingering after effects of our illness get the better of him and he slumps to the floor. Straightening my jacket I look around. Bane and Batsy both lie unconscious on the ground. I have them both at my mercy. I could do whatever I wanted to them  and there would be no one to stop me. I stand over Batman, pocket knife in hand. Most people in my situation would do at least one of two things. Unmask him and/or kill him. What's underneath the cowl has never interested me. Everyone seems to think that it's the man under the mask who is real but I know different. I know him. As his greatest enemy I should kill him, it's what any other Gotham villain would do in my place. Holding the blade against his neck I try and force myself to do it, to do the thing I always said I would do one day. Kill Batman. Dropping the knife I finally admit to myself one of the many truths I've been hiding from. I can't kill him. Curling up into a ball on the floor I gaze at him, enjoying the peace between us. At first fighting had been enough but for a long time now I've caught myself longing for something different but not knowing what. This trip has opened my eyes in so many ways. I don't want it to end, not like this anyway. As the sun slowly begins to rise I realise that this is my only chance. My chance to play the game by my rules and maybe even change the game entirely. Whistling happily I jump to my feet and begin the search for something to tie Bane up with. I can't wait for Batsy to see what I'm planning. He's going to love it.



Pain. I groan loudly as I open my eyes, clutching my forehead as the banging sensation intensifies. Blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear my blurred vision I slowly sit up to find myself in the pilot seat of a thankfully parked Batwing. Somehow this doesn't seem right. Then I remember what happened in the Coliseum.  How Bane had ambushed us, how I had stopped him only to let the Joker escape. Right on cue the main screen in the Batwing flickers on and Joker's face comes into view. "Hey Batsy, sleep well?" he says cheerfully. "Sorry about leaving so soon but I had some things to sort out. Now I know you are just dying to know what they are but I don't want to be a party pooper and spoil the surprise so here's how it's going to go. I've arranged it so that Bane is already on his way back to Arkham so you have some free time on your hands. Meet me outside of the Church of Spilled Blood in St Petersburg. I've got a plan that's bound to make you smile. See you soon Bat boy!"

Joker winks playfully, waves at the camera and then the screen goes black. I groan once more and sink back in my chair. How could I have let him escape? There's no telling what that maniac has planned. What ever it is people are sure to get hurt and it will be my fault. Joker is my responsibility, always has been and always will be. By letting him get away I have put innocent lives at risk. The worst part is that it's not the first time in the past few days that my judgement has been clouded as far as the Joker is concerned. Nina is dead because I trusted Joker to save her. I had actually trusted him! He had thrown my misplaced trust right back in my face as he stood over her as she died, laughing. Cursing myself for my stupidity I prepare the Batwing for take off. Until I know what Joker is up to all I can do is give in to his demands, I have no other way of keeping everyone else safe. With this grim prospect in mind I set off.


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