Shiny Things
Summary: Wendy has some good news for Joker. Joker disagrees.
"I'm getting married."
Of course, she didn't have to say it out loud; she felt his gaze lingering on the band glimmering on her finger when she first came in, his unspoken question hanging heavily in the air.
When he tears his eyes away from it to search her face for signs that this is a game, a stupid joke, she half-wishes he would go back to staring at her hand, intensely as though he intends to melt her lover's ring down to nothing with a glare.
His eyes are just scary.
"Are you, now?"
She has to repeat to herself again and again that she wouldn't run away even if she could, that she doesn't want to escape, that she doesn't need to hide from him because she is free to leave whenever she wants. If she stops, she know she'll go bolting for the door, so she repeats it again; even though it's a lie, because escape is exactly what she's looking for, because it has never been any use to pretend that her job is normal and he's an ordinary boss who will congratulate her, and tease her, and laugh when she blushes, and smile at her wedding.
"You'd like him."
Not you'll like him, because she knows that she has no intention of staying near him long enough to blushingly introduce her husband to the nice people she works with and the kind man who has done so much for her, that she practically owes everything.
"Who is he?"
She tries to ignore the space between them disappearing as he moves around his desk, eyes still on her.
"My brother's best friend from college."
"And how did this come about?"
"He moved to Tokyo on business a year back," she replies, not even bothering to pretend that this is small-talk, or that the glare freezing her in place is polite interest. "Johnny gave him my phone number so he could ring me up while he was here."
"He rang you up and proposed." His words suggest a trace of humour, but his voice is cold and suggests that it can easily turn threatening if she gives him reason.
"No, of course not. We've been meeting on weekends for months now. Really, I think he's just offering because he's tired of having to work around my schedule every time he wants a date," she finishes with a little laugh and a light-heartedness as bright, sparkling, and brittle as her entire plan to run off and be happy is rapidly revealing itself to be.
"Ah. And you've decided to resolve the conflict in favour of your social life?"
"Family life; I'll find another job back home."
"I thought he was here for work."
"It was temporary. They'll need him back before winter."
"So, sharing your good news is doubling as a resignation."
"I've written up notice as well."
She rummages in her purse, clumsy and careless in mounting panic. He takes the crumpled envelope, withdraws a slip of paper, and says nothing as his eyes skim quickly over the curt, generic typed sentences of gratitude for a valuable opportunity and regrets that job and family needs have collided.
"Junior likes him," she says a long moment later in the same artificial brightness, desperate to break the silence tense to the point that she feels she might scream. As soon as she says it, she wishes she hasn't, because now she can feel her will collapsing beneath Mr. Joker's cold, silent anger and the screaming of her own conscience that anyone who could even consider just running off and leaving the little boy to his fate deserves one far worse.
His eyes flicker up from the page.
"Is this relevant in some way?"
"They say that children are excellent judges of character."
Cold, silent anger mounting before her dismayed eyes explodes, and her resignation letter skitters across his desk and floats harmlessly to the floor. He moves swiftly forward, and she flinches back, certain that he is going to hit her.
"You stupid girl! Do you honestly think I care about your little playmate's moral qualities? You have an important role here, and you plan to shirk it, just to run off and play the carefree housekeeper?"
"I don't see the problem, as long as I've given a full two weeks—"
"This is not a job, and you are not free to leave just as soon as some handsome, gullible idiot puts a ring on your finger!"
"I-I don't understand why you're—"
He waves off her flustered, useless stammering impatiently.
"Whatever happened to all those pretty-sounding phrases about this being your cause as much as anyone's, hmm? Just as soon as it began to require a little sacrifice, you're ready to retract your loyalty?"
Her chin lifts slightly, as she remembers too late that she still has her pride.
"I'm only leaving for Charlie's sake, you know; I wouldn't otherwise. I always meant it when I said I'd do what I could, but I can't do anymore."
"Of course," he scoffs. "Because you've been smitten with love for some man no one's ever even heard of until now. Obviously not enough to be faithful to him," he adds with a meaningful smirk. "Has it occurred to you that your happily-ever-after will be over before it's begun? You have no way to ensure that you'll mean a thing to each other after."
"I know," she whispers, looking carefully away.
"Of course; you wouldn't do this otherwise, would you?" he chuckles, the full nasty implication of his words carrying easily despite his pleasant expression. "The knowledge that you'll be freed soon anyway has made it nice and safe for you to jump headlong into an idiotic marriage that you'd never dream of wanting ordinarily."
"That isn't true! I've been happier since I've started seeing him than I've been in years!"
"In your vast experience of twenty-six years, I suppose," he mutters sourly. She knows he's looking down at her scornfully, but she isn't looking back; she's far too angry. Even when she feels him move closer and his arms resting loosely around her. The laugh that brushes her forehead chills her. "Ah, my dear, you needn't think for a moment that I'm fooled. I know perfectly well where you belong, and I know what keeps you here."
It's suddenly become very difficult to breathe, with his arms and his scent and his voice around her. Examining the tips of her shoes carefully, she struggles to draw in a breath, and almost against her will her hands bunch up in his shirt front as a wave of dizziness hits her. He laughs again, one hand coming up to push a stray bit of hair from her eyes.
"And although you did manage to catch me entirely by surprise with this," he continues, voice dropping in pitch and volume, "I know very well that a pretty little trinket —" Here, he catches her hand in his, pulls the tastefully simple ring off before she can protest with anything more than a jolt of half-terror, half-outrage, and half-relief. "—won't change a thing."
Abruptly, he drops her hand and tosses the tiny object carelessly at her.
"You might be grateful for that. If I thought you were serious about this, I don't think you would like the result."
Without another word, he turns and leaves as calmly as though the other participant in this conversation wasn't left pale and shaken.
As the door clicks shut behind him – although, not quite as softly as usual – she stares numbly for a moment, and then crumples to the ground, tightly clutching what was supposed to be a symbol that she was finished being a monster out of fear and love of a greater one, and lets a rush of tears blur her vision.
End Notes: I'm a 'shipper - we're not required to use common sense. XD