"I only - safed. Is all my magic."

"Okay," sighs Pen. She climbs over the back of the sofa to flop half into his lap.

"...Some?" Pen says. "The thing can..." She snuggles up, thinking. "Like thing hurt Shell Bell? Same word, 'nuke'. Wards better now but only me..."

"Mhm," he says. "He said he'll kill everybody in Gotham if anyone tries to leave or take his bomb away, and he wants to show us something tomorrow. I'm pretty sure that whatever he's doing, killing everybody in Gotham is gonna figure into it at some point, even though he didn't say so. So I wanna figure out how to take the bomb away without him setting it off. And I think I'm gonna see if Batman wants to help me with that."

"The unfriendly man," remembers Pen. "Will he?"

"Don't know yet," he says. "I think I'll have to spend a night at the old place. And I'm gonna have to, mm, make a call first." He glances into the kitchen. "I'll finish lunch first, but then I gotta go. Will you be okay without me? I'll probably be back tomorrow morning. You can talk to me the magic way if you get lonely or run into trouble."

"What for dinner though?"

"Leftover lunch?" he suggests.

"Okay," says Pen, in the voice of someone nobly making a great sacrifice.

"Bye!" calls Pen. She eats lunch at a more leisurely pace. She watches some TV.

Pen doesn't bother to turn the TV off, but she loses interest after a while. She amuses herself as best she can and doesn't bother Cindy. Eventually she goes to bed.

A young man with an unfamiliar face, in plain clothes but still obviously a cop. He isn't carrying his gun openly, but that doesn't mean he's not carrying it, and that is definitely a bulletproof vest under that jacket.

"So what held up Batsy?" he says, locking the front door and sauntering past Blake to plop himself onto the couch.

"He went to confront Bane. Didn't come back," John says succinctly. "What do you want?"

"No-o," he says, drawing out the sound as he looks up at Blake. "You first. Why are you here?"

"Because I don't think you're connected to - that," he says with a wave at the dark and silent TV. "And I wanted to know what you're after. Just 'Call me'? No dead bodies, no kidnappings, no bomb threats? From you that's practically two doves carrying an olive branch."

He chuckles. "How old were you four years ago?"

"Not that young," he says, raising his eyebrows.

"Not that old, either. And you weren't a cop."

"...Are you going somewhere with this?"

He grins. "Maybe. All right, I'll lay out my cards. I want this new kid and his toy nuke the hell out of Gotham. Last I saw Batsy we managed to talk for five minutes without anybody doing any violence, so I thought I'd see if he wanted to help. Too many people all trying to move on this at once - I'm sure you can imagine." He makes an illustrative blowing-up gesture. "No good. Gotta work together. Less chance of somebody fucking it up that way."

"You already do," the Joker informs him. "The real question is, what're you bringing to the table here? I've got people. Resources. Not a lot, maybe not enough, but something. You? You're a rookie cop with a line to a man who's probably dead, and we can't count on him either way. From where I'm standinnng, you're just one more gun, and I'm not short'a those."

"You're not standing anywhere," says John. "You're sitting down."

He declines to dignify that with a response.

John sighs. "All right, all right. No, I don't have much right now. But if you're serious about this, I can't believe you'd turn away help just because it doesn't come with a tank."

"Maybe not. But if you're hiding any tanks, I wanna know about 'em. Sooner before later. I'm betting that whatever this guy whips out tomorrow isn't gonna be something I'd want in my Christmas stocking."

"No tanks," he says, with a hint of a half-concealed smile.

"Mm, but something," the Joker guesses. "Something worth a little more than your," he grins, "pretty face."

Despite himself, John flinches at the combination of that emphasis with the Joker's wide red smile.

"Oooooh, this little piggy's got some squeal in him after all," he says, and laughs. "Don't fret, I'm just teasing."

"Ha ha," he says flatly. "Let's be clear about something here. We might be working together on this, and I might not have been with the force in '08, but you're still a terrorist and a cop-killer and if I ever think you're about to seriously hurt someone I don't want seriously hurt, I will shoot you."

The Joker scoffs. "And what makes you think you could shoot me?"

"You tell me, Johnny." He tugs on the lapels of his suit jacket, straightening them. "'Cause if you're gonna threaten me..." He grins. "Better be sure you mean it!"

"I wasn't threatening you," he says, controlling the urge to raise his hands placatingly; he doubts the Joker would appreciate it. "I was just making sure you know where we stand."

"Suuuure," he says. "I make you uncomfortable, you start talking about when you would hypothetically shoot me." He sniffs and straightens his jacket again. "Typical."

"Huh," says the Joker, impressed. "I wouldn't have thought you had that in you."

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to make a habit of it."

"Just what I've always wanted," he says dryly. "And could you stop calling me Johnny?"

"Make me," he challenges.

The Joker bounces in his seat and claps his hands gleefully.

It's... he feels like 'adorable' should definitely not be the right word, but it kind of is.

"This is going to be funnn," he proclaims.

"Fun. Sure."

"What?" he says, amused. "Don't tell me you were expecting all serious all the time. Not from the Joker."

"Okay, no," John concedes. "That would clearly be too much to ask. You know," he adds, while they're on the subject, "I used to think at least some of it was an act."

"And what do you think nnnow?"

He cackles.

"You're funny," the Joker accuses, grinning broadly. "On purpose! That is a rare distinction."

Caught up in the interplay, he asks without fully considering the consequences, "Do I get a prize?"

"Don't tempt me, honey."

...well that is not a direction he expected this conversation to go. Although maybe he should have. Unless he's imagining things? No, he is not imagining 'honey', and he's not imagining that smile, either. Should he say something? He probably should have said something several seconds ago.

The Joker just grins at him.

"...We need a way to keep in touch," he says, well aware of certain implications but unable to think of a better way to steer the conversation away from the Joker flirting with him. At least this is a legitimate practical concern. "Graffiti is notoriously insecure."

"Oh, I'll come up with something," he says. "Who else knows I used to live here?"

"In Gotham? Me."

"Then how about we meet back here tomorrow night?"

Well, it's better than meeting at his place. "Sure."

"And you think about your hypothetical tanks, and I'll think about - everything else."

"It's a deal," he says, and (just to see what happens?) holds out his hand.

The Joker stands up and shakes it firmly. No tricks.

Pen wakes up. She rummages for breakfast she can handle herself, finds nothing appealing, and sits on Cindy.

He yelps, opens his eyes, and grins at her. "G'morning, sweetheart. Do I need to make breakfast?"

"Yeah! I hungry."

"Mkay. Lemme up, then."

She hops off of him. "How things doing?" she asks.

"I can put people brainphoned. Those people not do same thing though. Mommies make it so you put putter people. I put regular people."

"Can you put just anybody? I want to be able to talk to this guy that way. It'll save a lot of trouble."

"Have to know what anybody. Not know guy."

"How 'bout if you came back to the old place with me tonight and met him?"

Om nom nom.

Pen peers at the guns. She has never seen these objects before!

"These're dangerous," he says. "They're some of what I was keeping in that room I told you not to go into. They won't blow anything up, but they could still kill somebody if you mess around with them."

"Won't," Pen agrees.

He glances up from his work to smile at her.

She watches from a safe non-tampering distance.

Pen watches too. It's unclear how much of it she's following.

Eventually that speech, too, winds down. The Joker stares at the screen for a moment, lost in thought, after they cut away from the prison; then he shakes his head and picks up the shotgun again.

Pen snuggles under his arm, obstructing him a little but not all that much.

He can work with it. He hugs her and keeps right on going.

She is quiet and thoughtful.

"Want Mommy find me, fix all things."

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

"Yeah."

In the meantime, there are hugs.

Yep.

Also lunch. That too.

Lunch is good.

"Sure."

Pen flies up and follows him in.

And there they wait, until...

...somebody knocks on the door.

The Joker answers it. Comfy sweater, lack of makeup, and all.

"YOU!" exclaims Pen. "YOU broke door! You break it and I here!"

"You two know each other already?" inquires the Joker, closing and locking the door.

"He break door!" exclaims Pen plaintively. "He be in nice bar, and he go, then door break!"

"I broke the door? I did not break the door," says John. "And there's not much I could do about it if I had. I only get them once a year."

"How door break then?" demands Pen. "Door supposed to home. This not home."

"I don't know! I didn't do anything to it!" he says. "I just went out like I always do."

"Well, door broke. Now I stuck till Mommy or Daddy or one them finds me. This one not count." She waves at Cindy.

"Yep," he says. "Apparently there's a bunch of me and one of 'em has four kids. She's the littlest." He addresses Pen. "Do you still wanna put Johnny on the brainphone even though he maybe broke your magic door?"

"You get more door?" she asks John suspiciously. "Birthday?"

"Yeah. Every year, since I was a kid."

"You let me door? So I not stuck years like Uncle Nathaniel."

"Then okay, I brainphone you, if want."

"What's a brainphone?"

"What it sounds like. Handy way to keep in touch, 'cause you can be damn sure nobody's listening," says the Joker.

[Is this thing!]

Pen nods. "Mommies can make more giving people. I only make regular people."

"What?" asks Pen.

"I find him. On purpose. He one Daddy, here hasn't one Mommy, checked that." says Pen. "Makes waffles!"

"Okay," says John. "So... now what?"

"Mmm... d'you know if they've strung up Jim Gordon yet?"

He hesitates for a moment, unsure how much he should be revealing, and then realizes that his hesitation signals that he has something to hide and there's really only one thing he could be hiding about the answer to that question, so he probably just gave it all away. Good work, rookie.

Indeed: the Joker grins. "He your tank? Mm?"

"Maybe," he says, more for form's sake than anything. Trying to keep things from the Joker seems to be a losing battle.

"Well, we could've used him before Blackgate," he says. "Now... well, he can probably get more cops on his side than I can, but most of the cops in this city are down a hole right now." He thinks for a second, then adds, "He'd make good traitor bait, at least."

"I more brainphoning?" inquires Pen.

"...I don't know," says John.

"You'd have a hell of a time convincing Gordon to work with me," the Joker says thoughtfully. "But we need more help than we've got. My boys are good to have around, but I wouldn't count on 'em not to be taken in by Bane's savior-of-the-people line."

"So you think it's just a line?"

"And you'd know."

"Well, yeah."

Pen, sober-faced, hugs Cindy. Arms and wings both.

He hugs her back, although he has fewer available limbs to do it with.

"Is complicated," she mutters.

"No kidding, sweetheart."

"What?" Pen asks. "Keep look funny at us."

"I'm just... thinking," he says, after a pause. "Don't worry about it. It's not important."

Pen thinks, then nods. Then she thinks some more and nudges Cindy. "You maybe friend help doing things?" she asks.

"Thaaat depends," the Joker says musingly. "Could be. Could be he won't bite. But I don't think we'll lose much by asking. Hey, Johnny, wanna do me a favour?"

"...I'm listening."

"For the last little while, I've been playing tag with a mob boss. New kid. Calls himself Mmmoriarty. Hasn't done much, but he's been sniffing around. I want to talk to his people. But in case his people don't want to talk to me, I don't want to show up in person right away." He spreads his hands.

"So your brilliant plan is to send the cop instead," says John. "Don't you have people for this?"

"I have people for... other things," the Joker says, shaking his head. "Not for this. This is delicate stuff."

"Right," says John. "Am I really the best messenger you've got, here?"

"I could send any old bozo to drop a note in somebody's mailbox," he says. "You, though - I send you, I'm saying, llllook how serious I am about making this a collaborative effort." He pauses, then adds, "The brainphone thing won't hurt either."

"Uh-huh. And do I even want to know what you mean by 'playing tag'?"

"Probably not," the Joker says serenely. "So will you do it?"

Pen reaches out and taps Cindy on the arm. "Tag," she giggles.

He giggles right back.

It is deeply weird.

"Anyway," he says. "Gimme a day or so. I'll tell you where to go and what to say when you get there. You probably won't get killed."

"I feel so reassured."

"Don't getting killed! Mommy can only fix if finding and you are one who door!"

"Good. Can't saving you without some of wishes."

"Which... are a thing you don't have?"

"Don't have," agrees Pen. "Too little. Is very silly Mommy because look now I should be have some!"

"Well, your mom probably didn't expect this to happen. Can't say I blame her."

"Bleh."

"Anyway." He looks at the Joker. "Is that all?"

"Pretty much." [Not like we can't get in touch if something comes up.]

"Okay. Nice talking to you."

The Joker giggles.

"Do not be killed," Pen admonishes him, shaking a finger. "Have birthday fix thing."

Pen sighs.

"It's not very nice of me," says the Joker, "but I really hope Moriarty's in town. He's kind of a shady character. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he bailed when Bane rolled the ball into that stadium, or even that he was never here in the first place. If he's here, though, I bet he's smart enough to work with me, and that'll be better for everybody."

"I wonder if is a one of space plant person kind," muses Pen.

"Mm?"

"If is a one of someone knowing the Mommies and Daddies. Like you but not like door break person with birthday."

"Good question. How do you tell?"

"Glass tell. Can do brainphone, sorta. Or recognize face if a same face one."

"Brainphone-sorta? Like how you found me, just guessing until you get somebody who's here?"

"Yes like find you. Trying call many people, then trying call the here one Daddy, got you."

"Well, who else would you guess?"

"Bunch of people. Trying call now?"

"Mm... we'll see. If any of 'em are in Gotham, Moriarty or not, now is probably not the best time to interrupt them."

Nod. "I did already trying Mommies and sisters and Jane and stuff, but did not trying everyone before find you."

"Figures."

"Mm-hm." Hug.