He obliged Joker when he came close, purred in his ear, by slipping an arm around his middle-- stiffly, uncomfortably, but it was there. And that calm exterior fractured enough to show ... surprise? maybe, when the gun was tossed to Joker. His free hand still held the pen from before, twisted it absently between his fingers.

Well, he couldn't have that. He tightened his hold momentarily, shifting to tilt, murmur close, "I believe you." And in one quick movement he plunged the pen high into Joker's thigh, forcing it with surprising strength into the muscle.

Jonathan smiled.