The Joker did take a hit this time. He dropped his gun--useless now anyway--and fell a few steps back with the punch. No point in trying to talk it out now. "You people," he said, shaking his head and rolling his aching jaw. "You people and your violent tendencies." Without warning he threw himself forward, flicking open the knife he'd held hidden in his left hand. He stabbed up, aiming to slide the blade into Nightwing's ribcage if he could manage it. That was why it was his favorite knife--small enough to conceal, long enough to get straight to the heart.
It had been fun and all, but he was getting kind of bored of the whole thing. If the kid was planning on taking him down, he should have moved sooner, when he was less inclined to use lethal force. Oh well.