Author's Note: This story idea came to me while I was listening to the soundtrack for 'The Great Gatsby,' specifically to Fergie's 'A Little Party Never Killed Nobody.' If you haven't heard that song, I highly recommend giving it a listen before, during, or after reading the first chapter (or all three; it's a good song). This will probably be a four- or five-shot when all is said and done. I will post the next chapter next Tuesday at the very latest, since I've still got Firework to wrap up. Happy reading!

…Joker, you son of a bitch, Batman cursed as he ripped the wheel of the Batmobile around. The car slid around in a half-circle before coming to a stop, and the vigilante exited so quickly that onlookers would later swear he simply materialized halfway between the vehicle and the burning nightclub.

"Batman," Red Robin called through the earbud radio receiver sewn into the cowl's lining.

"Report."

"I just got here. The north side is completely engulfed. The firefighters are backing off and focusing on keeping the fire off of nearby structures."

Goddamn it. How many are left inside? he mused as he strode through a bevy of frantic paramedics, heading for the nearest entrance that wasn't wreathed in flames. A Friday night in summer? That place must have been at capacity, if not over. Dozens dead already at least, surely, and that prick is probably sitting somewhere laughing his ass off…

"Have you seen Nightwing?" a query came. "I mean, he called it in to us both, so..."

"He's probably inside already. You know him."

"…Right."

A note of discomfort had edged that single word, and the cowled man commiserated. First Jason, then Damian…they couldn't lose anyone else. They wouldn't be able to hold if they did, and that went double if it was Dick who was next in line for the reaper. His mouth tightened as he shook off old pains, knowing they would come back later – they hadn't yet failed to, after all – but needing to be free of them to deal with the ongoing cataclysm. "Circle around to my location if your area looks impassable," he ordered his youngest remaining son. Don't risk it, hung unspoken between them. I don't want anything to happen to you, either.

"Be there in a second."

Batman had just kicked the door in when a soot-coated figure with a body over one shoulder emerged from it. There you are. The creeping worry that had been coiled in the pit of his stomach receded somewhat as he moved to allow the other man to retreat from the worst of the heat. Good, you had the sense to strap on a rebreather. "Report."

"It's total hell in there," was panted back as the breathing apparatus was stripped off in favor of nominally fresher air. "Thanks for getting the door, by the way. Since you're such a gentleman," he ribbed hoarsely, "take this lady, would you? I have to go back."

"I'll go." You look like you need a break.

"I already know what's collapsed and what's not. You don't. You get turned around in there and you're screwed, you know? Take her, we can work faster this way." With that he all but chucked the unconscious victim at his former mentor, drew a deep breath, and vanished back into the eerily backlit interior, straightening his oxygen recycler as he went.

"Damn it, Nightwing," Batman growled quietly as he carried the load he'd been tasked with back towards the ambulance cordon a block away. He had just spun on his heel to sweep back into the fray when the sound of a helicopter grew close overhead. That must be the fire department bringing in retardant dumps. If any of this smoke would clear I'd know for sure, but I can't imagine why else someone would hover over this inferno…

His answer came in the form of an ecstatic announcement that lent a somehow even more surreal feel to the thick clouds of fog reflecting the emergency lights at incomprehensible angles. "Gotham!" a psychopathic giggle broke in amongst the sirens and the crackle of the ever-weakening building. "You get too straight-laced when I'm off in my island paradise. You forget how to have fun. I'm sick of having to reteach you every fucking time I come home. So I'm throwing the – hehehe – hottest party of the year, right here, right now, so you remember why you love me."

Christ. You would choose to revel in this up close, wouldn't you? Someone shrieked from a nearby gurney as their burns were exposed, drawing the vigilante's attention as his thought trailed off. Not even his usually jaded stomach could stand the sight of flesh stripping away along with chunks of melted gloop that had been synthetic fabrics a mere half hour earlier, and he had to look away. …You're not getting away tonight, goddamn it. "Base," he radioed back to the cave. He'd called in after being informed of the blaze in order to ask Alfred to remain available to provide support services, and as usual in such situations the Englishman didn't let him down.

"Sir?" came back immediately.

"Send me the plane."

"On its way now."

I'll help the boys until it gets here, and then I'm chasing that bastard down, he ruled as he braved the skin-crinkling heat that was pouring off of the shell of one of the city's most celebrated drink-and-dance venues. So long as they have each other's backs, they'll be fine.

"Batman!" a familiar voice hailed him from nearby.

"…Where's your brother?" he stopped as he recognized Red Robin, who was hunched over under the weight of not one, but two fresh victims.

"He…ugh, thanks," he gasped as the other man took half of his load, "he went back in. I tried to get him to switch out, but-"

"But he said he knew where he was going, and that you'd get turned around."

"Yeah."

"…Let's go," he shook his head and turned away from his objective once more. If nothing else, he'll have to carry his next one away on his own. We won't be back in time for him to just chuck them at us. Maybe we can snag him before he goes for another one…

They'd taken only a few steps when a new broadcast was blasted over the groans of the beleaguered structure behind them. "Why is nobody dancing!? You're all just scurrying around down there like you don't know what you're doing! Have you all forgotten that you're supposed to dance at a party?! Or is the snapping of a good old-fashioned bonfire too pagan for your urbane sensibilities, Gotham? Well…" A snicker sounded. "…I did bring one other thing. Maybe it will help you remember that there's no crime in having fun. Do you know what else there's nothing wrong with? Enjoying a fine meal. Mmm…" The taking of a deep, snuffling breath could be heard. "…Suckling pig. Is anyone else hungry? Doesn't it smell like suckling pig? Doesn't it?! Answer me with your feet, Gotham! Dance, or I'm done, and do you know what I do to things I'm done with? I burn them to the motherfucking bedrock!"

As his squealing inquiry died away, a horn took its place, rising to join a swinging melody with lyrics so grossly inappropriate to the situation that even Batman was momentarily awed at the brazenness of the choice.

I ain't got time for you baby;
either you're mine, or you're not.
Make up your mind sweet baby;
right here, right now's all we got.
A little party never killed nobody,
so we gon' dance until we drop.
A little party never killed nobody,
right here, right now's all we got…

"…Oh, Fergie's going to be pissed," Red Robin commented dully. "Sorry," he tacked on a moment later, his embarrassed blush invisible under the color that the high ambient air temperature had already brought to his cheeks. "It just…popped in there."

"Ignore the music," Batman commanded as they delivered their loads to the disastrous triage zone and prepared to dash back. "We need to focus on clearing out the club."

"Agreed." We've got to get Dick to stop going in, he kept to himself. What little of him I could actually see looked awful when he handed me those guys, and the air's only getting worse near the entrance…

They stopped halfway back just long enough to pull their own rebreathers on, neither able to stand the choking smoke that kept trying to settle in their lungs and had to be coughed back up any longer. Have to be quick about this, the elder vigilante thought grimly. Get Nightwing, get whatever victims we pass along the way, and get the hell out of there. A glove groped along his arm suddenly, and looking over he discovered that he could barely see the figure traipsing grimly along with him. Damn it, this can't get much worse. We can't breathe, we can't see, and we can barely stand the heat. We've got to get him out of there, if he's still inside… The snake of fear that had slithered back into its hole a short while before was rearing its head once more, spitting and snapping at his roiling guts. Needing to know how far through hell he still had to walk to get to his son, he fingered the side of his cowl. A small readout, invisible to anyone not looking through his lenses, appeared in the lower right corner of his field of vision, indicating the respective distances to both Nightwing and Red Robin as well as the direction he ought to travel in order to get to each. …Which he is, naturally. Stubborn little bird…

"Hope you can keep up, boys!" Joker's voice taunted ephemerally along with the song. "Cause believe me, I'm the bee's knees! Dance, bitches!"

Unable to see anything past one another as they stumbled through the acrid plumes of destruction, neither vigilante realized that the hovering crazy had dumped a load of accelerant onto the fire until they were knocked to the ground by the shockwave the resulting explosion generated. Both lay for a moment, dazed, before Batman cast a glance over the younger man. Determining that he was unhurt, he rose onto his elbows and peered towards the blast zone. The same wave of hot air that had shoved them violently to the pavement had also cleared the majority of the built-up smoke, giving him a more or less clear view of the now debris-cluttered parking lot that stretched between them and their goal. Beyond it sat the remains of a five-story building, now reduced to one shattered level. In the heart of the rubble pile, the fire roared skyward, begging for more of what it had been fed. "…No," he murmured, the salt in the tears rolling unbidden down his cheeks burning against his overheated skin. No. No, Dick. Not…not like this. No. Please, chum, not like this…

"Oh, god, no," Tim moaned beside him as he, too, realized what had occurred. "No, no, no…"

The cowl display, jostled by the force of the blast, blinked back on just as its wearer reached over to grip the shaking costumed shoulder beside him. How close were we? he sobbed morbidly as the beat went on around them. …338 feet. So close…not close enough…Dick…wait. His eyes narrowed. The text is blue. His heart stopped, then transitioned into determined, overjoyed double-time. The text didn't turn red…it's still blue! "Tim!"

"What…?" he asked, turning a dirty, sorrow-streaked face towards the speaker. He used my name. We're in costume. We're in costume, and he used my name, he boggled. What…? Then he saw the broad, triumphant grin on the other man's face, and knew the answer. He's…he's still alive in there, his eyes widened as a bolt of hope flashed along his nerves.He's still alive!