An explosion of conflicting thoughts and emotions flashed through Scott's mind in such rapid succession he barely got a look at one of them before three others pushed it aside.  Chief among the confusing rush of thoughts was about Harley. He could feel her warmth and lean muscles as she pressed up against him. Amid the swirling ocean of conflicting thoughts, the rational part of his mind surfaced and started screaming at him.

Scott had been drawn to Harley almost since their first encounter. He could tell by the way she clung to him and with the fervent intensity of her kisses, she did more than simply want him, she hungered for him. Harley had been the abused plaything of Joker for years, and having found someone like Scott who would treat her with respect and decency, she hung on to him similar to a drowning man grasping a piece of driftwood.

Having Harley in his arms was perfection itself. however, if they were caught, all his plans would be for nothing as Joker would certainly kill them both were they stood.  For the smallest sliver of an instant, Scott wondered if it might be worth it. With some difficulty, Scott forced himself to push Harley away.

"Not now," he declined softly, his breath taken from him by her unexpected passion. "Not here."

"Why not?" Harley protested. "What could he do to us that he hasn't done already?"

"He could shoot us before my plan has a chance to be put in action," Scott reminded.

"Fine, if you're not interested," Harley shrugged while turning away.

Scott caught her by both arms near the shoulder, pulling her back and up against his chest so he might whisper in her ear.

"I want you more than the very air in my lungs and the blood in my veins," Scott told her. "If so many lives weren't depending on us, I would spend the rest of my days showing you how much you mean to me."

Scott turned her around and pushed a lock of Harley's blonde hair away from her face and hooked it behind her ear.

"I'm not asking you to stop," he concluded. "I'm only asking that you wait."

Scott caressed her cheek and retreated from the room before the rest of his mind could think up reasons for him to stay.

   ***   

The next day, after a wonderfully restful night's sleep, Scott was called into Joker's room for a briefing on what would be next for King Joker.

The Clown had taken the largest penthouse suite available. A sizable table in the main living room had been covered by a map of Gotham and its surrounding territory. A dozen of Joker's top goons were gathered around the map, discussing the next attack.

"There you are, old boy," Joker greeted when he saw Scott. He waved a hand toward the map. "Have a look. Most of Gotham is in our pocket, the government is in shambles - more than usual, and we're about to launch our attacks into neighboring cities before Gotham gets cut off."

"Which city is first?" Scott asked, looking over the map and wondering how he could protect more than one city if Joker started spreading out his influence.

"None for the moment," Joker denied. "The civil unrest we caused showed that ordinary nobodies could cause a serious problem for those in control. If we leave Gotham, who's to say they won't upset things here while we're away? So, we're going to eliminate that potential problem by eliminating them."

"You're going to kill everyone in Gotham?" Scott asked. He tried to keep the shock and fear from registering on his face, but he didn't know how successful he was at it.

"No," Joker denied. "At least, not right away. I just want to thin the herd a might. Three out of every four people ought to make the population much more manageable."

Scott's thoughts raced to come up with something to prevent Joker from killing three quarters of the city's population.

"I have an idea you might like," Scott suggested as it formed in his mind. "It would guarantee your hold on Gotham while increasing your power to take over other cities even faster."

"How?" Joker demanded.

"Recruit the population of Gotham into the gang," Scott suggested.

"I'll handle the jokes around here," Joker sneered.

"I'm serious," Scott answered. He went on before anyone could stop him. "If you recruited them into the gang, they'd patrol the streets, protecting their own homes, businesses, and families so that you could hold Gotham without having to leave any of your main army here. It would allow you to send your full strength to war and capture the next city much faster than you'd be able to otherwise."

"How do I keep these new members from using the weapons I give them against me?" Joker questioned, folding his arms across his chest and staring hard at Scott.

"Fear," Scott answered simply. "You had fires started all over Gotham and the firetrucks destroyed. If even one person causes trouble, their whole block gets torched. Since they feared enough for their lives to riot against the government, they'll keep each other in line. If one person even suggests turning against you, the residents in their neighborhood will pounce on them because they don't want to die."

Joker stared at the map while considering the idea.

"If it doesn't work, you can always kill them later," Scott suggested. "I've still got some matches."

Joker snickered maliciously. "We'll give it a try, and if it doesn't work, we'll kill you along with them."

"Then I better go make sure it works," Scott agreed, heading for the exit when Joker gave a nod of approval.

   ***   

Scott was carrying a small briefcase when he entered the empty warehouse and walked across the bare concrete floor toward the middle of the building. Although empty of anything being stored, the warehouse was occupied by more than three dozen people gathered in the open space Scott was approaching.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Scott said loudly to get their attention. "Thank you all for coming."

"We didn't have a choice!" a balding man in his late forties shouted. "Gunmen came to my door and ordered me here."

Several other people joined in their disapproval of the way they'd been contacted.

"Since I have your attention, I'd like to explain the reason I had you called here," Scott went on. "You've all been drafted into Joker's gang."

Scott waited while the people shouted arguments and protests. When it was clear they weren't going to listen in an orderly manner, he set down the briefcase and opened it, taking out a gas mask and a canister with a grenade style ring pull on it. All voices quickly quieted down until everything was silent.

"Let me explain the situation so you can all understand perfectly," Scott said coldly. "And if anyone interrupts me, I'm going to gas everyone in this room."

A teenager in a gray hoodie suggested in a conspiratorial whisper rushing Scott before he could pull the pin, but an Asian boy also in his teens hit him in the shoulder and told him to shut up before he got them all killed. Scott forced himself not to smile as it was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for as the people were already policing themselves.

"For those of you who haven't figured it out yet, Joker owns this town and everyone in it," Scott explained bluntly. "As a part of his organization, you'll be in charge of defending your own neighborhoods and families, that's it. You'll keep watch and make sure everything runs smoothly. Screw this up and Joker will think you're more trouble than you're worth and go back to his original plan of killing seventy-five percent of Gotham's people."

Scott paused for a minute to allow the full import to sink in before he continued.

"The good news is you'll be protected if you stay loyal to the gang," Scott told them. "If you're patrolling your streets, there'll be no need for people like me to show up and start trouble for why would I want to harass my own gang? Simple choice people: Join Joker and keep your loved ones safe, or fight back and everyone dies. What's it going to be?"

   ***   

As Scott had expected, the neighborhoods folded one by one until almost everyone living in Gotham had agreed to be a part of the gang. The sun was setting, and Scott was on his way to one of the final enlistment meetings. Harley had promised to join him as soon as she and her team of gunmen finished giving out the invitations.

He left the briefcase in the van this time and carried the gas mask and canister openly, planning to get their attention the moment he walked through the front door of the coffee shop where the meeting was to take place. Before he could get to the door, a three pointed star of metal whistled through the air and knocked the canister out of his hand.

Scott whirled around and found a figure dressed in black only a few feet away. How the person had gotten so close without being heard, Scott had no idea, but he also had no time to consider it as the shadowy figure attacked him.

The combat training Harley had given him kicked in automatically, letting him dodge or deflect the swift punches and kicks fired off in his direction, but the attacker was very good and very fast, leaving no opening to exploit and no margin for error in Scott's defenses. He realized he might lose this fight as his assailant showed no signs of tiring.

In the back of his mind, Scott was more concerned for Gotham than he was for himself. If Scott died or was hospitalized, Joker would most likely return to his original plan of killing almost everyone in the city. The distracting thought caused a momentary slip in his concentration. The dark figure took advantage and delivered several quick punches followed by a spinning kick that dropped Scott to the sidewalk on his back.

Scott was stunned, his breath knocked out of him. His attacker left him alone temporarily, reaching down to pick something off the sidewalk. Scott couldn't see what it was until his foe returned and put a boot on Scott's chest to keep him down. Gripped in the figure's right hand was the canister of Joker's laughing gas Scott had brought with him.

"Time for some of your own poison," the figure growled and pulled the pin.