Leaving the Lights On
His hands go up with alacrity and he licks his upper lip, blinks in surprise. "Well, now, here's a shocker."
She holds her gun steady at his head with both hands. Her shoulders straighten. She is resolute. "Sit."
"What am I, a dog?" She jabs the gun and he sits anyway, not looking, flops down on the floor with his suit jacket spreading around him, folds his legs and tucks them in. The hems of his pants ride up to reveal dusty black shoes, brilliant patchwork socks. "What are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be strumming a harp by now? Churning out the hosannas?"
She's still in the shadow, and he can't see her face. He watches avidly regardless, as she spits out, "Oh, you'd like that to be true. Wouldn't you? You set up my death, after all."
"But, uh, you're not dead," the Joker points out, leaning forward. He enunciates so there is no confusion about this. "I don't know if you noticed—"
"But I'm supposed to be."
He licks his lips again.
"You sound bitter. I don't blame you, Beautiful. I'd be a little upset myself. But I still don't know why you're here. Not that I object to the company—"
"Batman," she says, and he clears his throat, plucking at his lapels, a study in offended dignity.
"Well, you got that one wrong."
"No. I know who he is."
He raises his eyebrows and his eyes gleam. "Out for revenge now, are we? Because he didn't save you? He probably meant to, you know— I got a little excited when he was throwing me around the room and, uh, slipped up with the addresses. And anyway you escaped. So it all came out in the wash."
"He killed the man I love," she says, and she sounds broken now. The Joker waits; a delicate pause.
"Just so we're clear, here, that would be—"
"Harvey."
He nods deeply. "Harvey. Harvey Dent. Ding-dong, the DA is dead." He glances up as he half sing-songs this, purses his lips, thinking. "And now we're gonna trade? You give me information, I act on it, I'll leave the lights on for ya and we can sort out body parts in the morning—"
"I can't do this on my own, that's all," she whispers. "I need your help. This is my first time."
"Mine too, Beautiful. Mine too." He laughs. Loudly, raucously. "How did you escape, anyway? Step into the light."
She hesitates, then does so.
He gives a long, low whistle at what was once Rachel Dawes.
"Gorgeous," he says, and smiles.