It was a cold, dark night in Gotham City, and in the corner of a tiny little bar, lurked Jonathan Crane. He was the very image of a perfect gentleman, sporting a nice suit, a stylish haircut and the sort of face that you only ever saw on the cover of men's fashion magazines. If one had looked very carefully, they might have noticed that he was sitting perhaps a little too still, was a few shades paler than the norm and that the drink he'd been nursing for the past few hours hadn't actually been touched. But if the girl sitting next to him had noticed, she didn't seem to mind.
"So what brings you to Gotham?" Jonathan asked, trying to keep the age-old question as genuine sounding as possible.
The blonde looked at him from over her glasses and smiled. "Do you want the real answer, or the official one?"
"Whatever suits your fancy."
The girl looked around and then leaned towards him as if sharing a secret."I just landed a job at Arkham," she whispered. "As a shrink."
Jonathan twitched imperceptibly and then cleared his throat to snap out of it."Arkham." He managed, trying to hide the inevitable bitterness that crept into his tone. "That's…quite the position."
The girl smiled hugely at his response. "Right? Straight out of school, too. Of course, I wasn't above pulling a few strings here and there. But a girl's gotta eat, right?"
Jonathan adjusted his glasses even though they didn't need adjusting, and decided not to dignify that with a response."How are you finding it?"
"The job?" She asked. "I haven't started yet. I only got here a couple of days ago, so I'm just trying to get familiar with the city."
Jonathan raised his eyebrow with interest and leaned a little closer. "You're not from Gotham," he stated. He would've been holding his breath with anticipation at this point, if he still had a breath to hold.
"Nope." She replied cheerfully."In fact, you're probably the first person I've talked to."
Jonathan could barely keep himself from breaking out into a fanged grin.
The blond girl continued talking, completely oblivious to the predatory glint that was now present in Jonathan's icy blue eyes. "Coming here for a job is only one answer, though. If we're being honest? I'm just looking for an adventure."
The bartender finally slid over the drink they ordered. Jonathan took the liberty of handing it over to the girl himself, holding it just long enough to slip a hidden vial of liquid in. He kept his gaze locked with hers the entire time, and the whole movement was so smooth and casual that felt a little proud of himself. " I'd say you came to the right place." Jonathan replied, unable to keep the good cheer out of his voice. He raised his glass. "To adventure." The two clinked their drinks together. The girl downed hers in a single gulp and Jonathan mimed the same.
—
By the time Jonathan brought her back to the apartment, the girl was giggling and staggering and way, way too disproportionately drunk considering she'd only had the one drink. Jonathan supposed it was a testament to his years of pharmaceutical expertise, and he was almost as giddy as her at the prospect of having his first meal in ages. As he unlocked the apartment door, a sudden, sinking feeling washed over him. A presence buzzed nearby, a nervous spidery energy that was sadly unmistakeable.
Jonathan opened the door very quietly and cautiously, revealing an empty apartment. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Woweee! Ain't this fancy!" the girl all but yelled, with a sudden hint of a Brooklyn accent that must've only appeared when she was drunk. She noisily stumbled into the foyer after Jonathan, and very nearly tripped flat on her face.
And by all means, she absolutely would have, had she not found herself caught in the arms of a tall, dark stranger. The girl slowly looked up. Staring back down at her was the absolute paragon of vampiric beauty.
Or, almost. The only thing keeping him from such a lofty title were the scars that stretched the corners of his otherwise perfect mouth into a huge, creepy grin. Other than that he was stunning. He looked like he was carved from the finest alabaster, and his eyes were catlike and seductive, slightly hidden beneath a curtain of dark, glossy curls.
"Jack." Jonathan greeted, less than enthused now that the worst was confirmed. "What a surprise."
Jack held the girl for a moment longer than necessary, and gently placed her back on her feet. "You didn't tell me you were bringing such a pretty little thing home." Jack's voice was low and purring, and Jonathan tried his best to ignore the way the girl shivered in response.
"No." Jonathan said curtly. "I don't suppose I did." Jonathan politely assisted the star-struck girl in removing her jacket, unfortunately revealing a tight, extremely low-cut top that she had been wearing underneath.
Jack licked his lips, looking at her like a predator before its prey as he got an eyeful of what she had to offer. He hummed appreciatively and began circling her.
"I thought you were going out tonight." Jonathan said as he hung up the coats.
"I was," Jack said distractedly as he stalked, eyeing the girl up and down.
"Well, we wouldn't want to keep you." Jonathan slowly took the girls arm in an attempt to assure some sort of stake in the situation.
"Oh, it's no problem. I can always make time for pretty girls." Jack winked at her, and spoke with an air that said he wasn't going anywhere soon. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"You're scaring her." Jonathan snapped. "She doesn't want to tell you her name."
Jack clicked his tongue. "Johnny, Why don't we let the lady decide for herself? I believe in a woman's right to choose," he told her huskily, and the girl almost threw herself into his arms right then and there at this chivalrous-yet-progressive statement.
Jonathan almost rolled his eyes right out of his head. "He says that to everyone," he said, but he knew it was already a lost cause. Jack had already reeled her in.
"M-my name is Harleen," the girl breathed. "Harleen Quinzel."
Jack quirked the corner of his ruined mouth and raised an eyebrow. "Har-leen Quin-zel. A pretty name for a pretty girl."
Jonathan could've mouthed the pickup line along word for word , he'd heard it so many times. "Anyway. Now that you two are acquainted, you should really be on your way. We've kept you long enough. My deepest apologies, Miss Quinzel."
"I don't mind." Harleen slurred, blushing.
"She doesn't mind." Jack quipped.
"Yes, well. I do. Two's company." Jonathan opened the door and propped it open, making it pretty damn clear that he wanted Jack to piss off already.
"And three's a crowd. Looks like you already know which way the door is." Jack wrapped his arm around Harleen and led her into the apartment with ease.
Jonathan stared after them, his cold unbeating heart sinking like a leaden stone as he watched his chances of having a decent evening literally slip out of his grasp.
"He's a real stiff, isn't he?" He heard Jack say to her, earning a delighted giggle. "Say, do you wanna know how I got these scars?"
—-
Jonathan soon found himself sitting in the hallway outside the apartment, listening to the sounds of them going at it. Which he managed to catch every detail of, thanks to the ridiculously good hearing that his 'condition' had blessed him with. His stomach made a noise of hunger at the thought of the missed meal, and he curled up, suddenly feeling the full weight of his exhaustion. Unlike Jack, Jonathan didn't care for picking up and moving halfway across the city every time people started getting suspicious. He actually liked where he was living and what they had established. He wanted to be careful, to only bring home people who wouldn't be missed, and it was costing him.
He let his tired eyes fall shut and he tried to ignore the sounds of Jack having his way with Harleen. He tried to ignore her low, lusty groans and breathy "Oh Jack's" and how his own mouth felt even more parched at the recurring thought of the blood he wasn't getting. After what seemed like an eternity, Harleen gave a pained scream of ecstasy, loud enough to wake the whole floor. An eerie silence fell in its wake and Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. He might actually be able to go to bed now.
When the apartment door finally opened, Jack was leaning against the frame, looking completely dishevelled and wearing a satisfied grin on his face that said he'd clearly gotten his fill of whatever it was he was after, as usual. "Gotta hand it to you Johnny." Jack flicked his hair out of his eyes in one easy movement."You bring home some uh, fine pieces."
Jonathan stood up, wearing a hollow, angry expression. "And I'm so glad you're around to consistently take them off my hands for me."
Jack rolled his eyes over-dramatically. "Oh lighten up, would ya? See, that's exactly why they don't like you. You're such a sourpuss." Jack said in his dumb nasally voice, which Jonathan, for the life of him, could not understand why people liked so much.
Jonathan just pressed his lips into a thin line and tried not to lose his temper. Frankly he was too tired and useless to get into an argument about this. It was nearly dawn, he was hungry to the point of being shaky, and he just wanted to sleep and forget this had ever happened. "Whatever. I suppose we should see to disposing of the body."
Jack's broad grin fell suddenly, and he was uncharacteristically quiet.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes beneath his glasses. "She is dead, right?"
"Not….technically."
Jonathan stepped towards him, positively bristling. "Then tell me I don't see blood on you lips."
Jack wiped his mouth, looking down at his hand. He paused for a moment, examining it, before speaking. "I might have given her a little lovebite or two." Jack slowly admitted.
Jonathan shoved past him and went into the apartment before Jack could even explain himself.
"I mean. I was only giving her what she wanted, y'know? She was into that sorta thing.
Jonathan ignored him as he stormed into the apartment. Sure enough, Harleen lay lifeless on the couch, already in the process of turning. Her eyes were wide open and completely blank. Jonathan checked for a pulse. It was unnaturally sluggish and she was chilled to the touch. A quick check under her lips revealed a set of delicate fangs already growing in. "Why didn't you just finish her off?"
Jack shrugged. "I wasn't hungry."
Of course he wasn't. Jack had been
feeding well for the past month, bringing back groups of girls who had practically thrown themselves at him, for reasons that completely escaped Jonathan.
Jack rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I guess I didn't exactly think this through."
"No, I guess you didn't." Jonathan just stood over the couch, staring at the girl that would've been his first in a long time while trying to assess the situation. His eyes skimmed over Harleen's shapely little body, clad in nothing but lacy red and black lingerie. Bluish veins spidered up from beneath the waistband of her panties, and Jonathan soon realized where exactly Jack had bitten her. Classy.
"Not bad, huh?" Jack said conversationally, giving a friendly nod in the direction of her breasts.
"You are the biggest imbecile I have ever met." Jonathan told him, and with that he strode off into the kitchen. He bumped and shuffled around the cupboards and drawers and soon came back with a huge wooden stake.
Jack raised his eyebrows at the sight of it. "Were you saving that for me?"
Jonathan didn't reply. He brought it up high over his head.
Jack suddenly realized what he was doing. "You're just gonna kill her?"
"Do you want a wild newborn on the loose?" Jonathan asked blankly.
"No?"
Jonathan anticipated the blow and then slammed it down in one lightning fast moment. It should have pierced her heart and killed her instantly. But at the exact millimetre before making contact, a pale bat took Harleen's place and zipped out of the way. It flew clumsily and careened into the ground, stumbling back into the shape of a girl, who crashed into the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Harleen groaned, rubbing her head.
Jonathan discreetly tossed the would-be-murder-weapon aside, and Jack just gave a sidelong glance at the now-ruined leather couch, eyeing it woefully. He liked that couch.
"What haaappened?" Harleen croaked.
Jonathan spoke first. "You were-"
"Drugged." Jack said.
"Drugged." Harleen repeated.
"Yeah." Jack said, confident in the knowledge that anything he was about to run his mouth about would probably be fantastic. "You were out for a couple hours. Creepo here musta slipped something into your drink. But you're okay now. " Jack didn't know what else to say, so he grinned hugely in an attempt to be reassuring. The effect was disturbing.
Jonathan just gaped at Jack incredulously.
"You're an angel." Harleen told Jack, using the coffee table to drag herself to her feet. Her ankles wobbled unsteadily on her heels, and she looked like she was about to teeter over at any moment. She slowly managed to manoeuvre herself into a position where she could sit on the coffee table. "I can't remember anything." She muttered.
Jack, still in gentleman mode, took the liberty of handing over her clothes, which she frowned at for a moment, before taking out of his hands.
"I'm really thirsty." She said, pulling her shirt on inside out and backwards. "You fellas got anything ta drink around here? Not you." Harleen added, when Jonathan opened his mouth to reply.
Jack realized this was pretty much in his hands at this point. "Uhh. We might?" Jack left to go to the kitchen.
Jonathan knew he wouldn't find anything, so he just sat on the couch and watched Harleen with a vague interest as she clumsily attempted to pull on the rest of her clothes. Her hair had gone from a friendly yellow-blond to a cold platinum, nearly as white as her skin. Her eyes were the same electric white-blue as Jonathan's, except they were ringed by dark black circles. Her glasses were also nowhere to be found and she seemed to be faring pretty well. As if on cue, Harleen flipped open a small compact mirror to check her appearance. Upon the lack of reflection, she frowned, angled the mirror and looked closer. She tilted her head and squinted at it with a look of utter confusion, before Jack came back into the room.
Harleen closed the compact mirror and eagerly stood up.
"We got nothing." Jack announced.
She wilted.
Jack slung a comforting arm around Harleen's shoulder and started leading her towards the door. "Listen though, uh…Harl..ey?" He started unsteadily, having already forgotten her name. "There's a convenience store just down the road. Get yourself a coke." Jack dug into his pockets and handed her a twenty. Then gave her another two bills for good measure. "In fact. Buy as many as you want. Buy all of them."
Harleen took it, staring up at him with her startlingly blue eyes. "Do you mean it?"
"Yeah. Take it. It's all yours. I insist."
Harleen whistled down at the amount of money, completely oblivious to the fact that Jack had now led her to the entrance of the apartment. "Wow. You're the nicest guy I've ever met, you know that? I mean. Everyone told stories about the guys in Gotham and you're not like that at all."
"Shucks." Jack chuckled uncomfortably, as he opened the front door. "Well. It's just in my nature, y'know? It hurts me to see a pretty young gal such as yourself being taken advantage of. Guess I'm sort of old-fashioned." He said with mock-bashfulness, flashing the perfect nice-guy smile.
In the background, Jonathan looked like he was ready to throw himself off the balcony.
"Thank you," Harleen whispered, in a tone that meant she clearly thought more of this night than Jack did. Harleen suddenly went in for a kiss and Jack went in for a quick pat on the back, and the result was nothing short of awkward.
"Anyway." Jack said, breaking off the embrace. "You uh, watch yourself. There's some real creeps out there."
"I will." She replied, smiling. Harleen was about to say something else but Jack just shut the door as soon as he got the chance. He locked it as quickly as he could and then fell against it with a boneless slump, dusting off his hands as if the whole thing were a job well done. "Well. That's settled!"
"That's settled?" Jonathan took off his glasses, which he only did when he meant business. "You do realize you just sent a hungry newborn off into the world."
Jack waved it off, swaggering back into the living room. "Yeah, well. I'm sure she'll figure it out sooner or later." Jack dropped onto the couch next to Jonathan, who gave a look of utter irritation in response.
"I'm sure." Jonathan replied. "And when she does she'll go on a killing spree and we'll probably have to move across the city. Again."
"Well. It's nothing we're not used to at this point, huh?"
"No." Jonathan said, after a moment's pause. "I suppose not."
FIN