A/N: Hello, everybody. This is the first fanfic I have ever posted here, and it is one of my first fics in general, so please bear with me. This piece wasn't beta-read, so feel free to inform me of any grammatical errors you may find. Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames will be reported. I know this chapter is really short. They will get longer-- I promise.

Oh, crap. I just read the reviews for this. Thank you for not thinking I'm a lousy writer. I was honestly a little terrified to read the reviews. You guys just gave me the motivation to keep this story going. Thank you. :)

Warning: This story will contain SLASH. SLASH. SLASH. Please don't tell me I did not warn you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides Dr. Philips and an OC that will be coming up later in the story. "Perfect Fit" (the song referenced by the Joker) belongs to AFI.

The Joker's breath escaped him as he was slammed into the wall yet again by his beloved Batsy. A soft chuckle escaped the tender, swollen flesh of his parted, bleeding lips.

"You like this as much as I do, huh, Bats?" Another dry laugh.

"Never."

"Aw, come on. You know you love me."

"Be quiet."

The Joker gasped as he was abruptly turned to face away from Batman and crushed face first into the smooth wall. Click, click. The Caped Crusader had handcuffed him. He sighed.

"You know, love, there's no need to tie me up. I'm more than willing." He looked back at Bruce and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Unless you're into that whole BDSM deal..." This earned him an exasperated sigh from his favorite flying rodent. He giggled as he was half-dragged out of the now-evacuated building he had been planning on blowing up.

"Please, don't leave me here, Bats," the Joker moaned, "I'll be forced to think of another boring plan to get out of this... delightful resort. Get off me!" The Joker slapped furiously at the two guards struggling to bring him to his cell. Bruce vaguely noted that if the two weren't so glad to have Arkham's most notorious patient back, they surely would have run off to report him to the authorities, what with him being blamed for the murders of Harvey Dent and his victims. The Joker's temper tantrum freed him from his brief reverie. He blinked a couple times and sighed.

"You're just making things harder on yourself by forcing them to sedate you. Clam down." Batman muttered flatly.

"I won't be sedated, stability is overrated! Give me the disorder I adoooore!" The pale man giggled madly at his song reference. Batman shook his head.

"You have absolutely no remedy."

"Who says this?" the Joker huffed indignantly.

"Do I have to remind you of the little killing spree you went on just last month?"

"Well, I— agh! You son of a bitch!" One of the guards caught him off guard and shot the sedative into his bloodstream. He apparently began feeling the effects of the drug rather quickly, as his eyelids drooped and his mouth shaped itself into a lazy grin. Bruce watched as the childlike man was carried to his ward in a fit of quiet giggles.

"See you later, Bats!"

Bruce exited Arkham Asylum with quick, silent strides. His mind and body were exhausted from the night's work. He sighed, recollecting the events that had taken place. It had been too close a call. Had he arrived at the building a few minutes later, hundreds, maybe thousands would have perished.

The Joker seemed to be on some kind of rampage; his killings becoming closer and closer to each other, yet this wasn't what unsettled the Batman the most— it was the fact that the Joker had no apparent reason for the gruesome acts he perpetrated on an almost daily basis.

Try as he might, Bruce was never able to strike any chords in his arch nemesis. There was nothing he could think of that could force the madman to cease his deadly antics.

On several occasions Bruce had lost control and ruthlessly beaten the Joker, yet this only seemed to delight the man, who would then proceed to remind him of how alike they really were.

The Dark Knight shook his head slowly. He had to find a way to make him stop. For good.

He had been in the loony bin for nearly a week now, and he was beginning to get bored. He'd been waiting for his bat to visit him, but he hadn't come. So it'll be up to me to get his attention. Hmm… easy enough.

"Good morning, Mister, um… How are you today?" A young Dr. Philips warily entered the Joker's cell. He has a clip board. A clipboard with a metal clip. Perfect.

"Quite fine, actually, Doctor." The Joker replied, a sinisterly cheerful timbre in his voice. "I was wondering… would you like to know how I got these scars?"