Updated August 20th, 1:00 AM exactly, so it would make more sense.
Author's Note In my series, Bruce has not yet met Joker, just to clear it up. This story is inspired from Heath Ledger's (Rest In Peace) rendition of the most amazing villain out there, The Joker, from "The Dark Knight." This is a story one which I am making up as I go along, so if you want to read more, submit a few good reviews, and I'll continue it. If this fails to receive at least 2 reviews in the week, then I am taking it off the site.
Anticipating Sanity
Chapter One
Authored By The Embedded Shame
Characters you may recognize are copyright DC Comics. Ones you do not recognize are probably mine.
Hey, it's Bruce!
Angela Allegra dashed down the paved road, across the street to where a cab had just pulled up, just as a worried, or so it seemed to Angela, Bruce Wayne pulled out from it. He turned around, greeting her with a fake smile. He must have heard the the loud thuds her stilettos made when they came contact to the ground under neath him. Soon as he laid his eyes on her, his expression had changed drastically. He went from worried and scarred to fake and happy.
"Morning, Angela." He spoke with intensity.
"Well if it isn't Bruce Wayne."
Angela reached into her purse,pushing aside the lipstick and compact disk, and pulling out a 20, which he handed to the cab driver.
"Will this be enough?" She asked the balding guy, who blew smoke in her face.
If he doesn't put that out, she expressed to herself, I'll have to do it myself.
"Perfect!" the driver spoke, grabbing the money eagerly, and driving off.
Bruce looked at her, with a thankful smile.
"You didn't have to do that." He said.
"I wanted to, darling. Plus, you look a little flushed."
"It's just the stocks. They've been rising, and lowering, and things are just unsteady, I guess."
They both walked down a narrow street, as close to the stores as possible, for Gotham was notorious for it's busy streets.
"No, it's not that." Angela held Bruce's hand in hers, and looked up into his eyes. It wasn't just that at all.
"Yes, that's exactly what it is."
Even though he kept his face stiff, she had learnt to read his eyes by now.
"Listen, Bruce, if it's commitment issues, or if you aren't ready --"
"Angela, it's not that. If you insist, this Joe Kurh thing...it's kinda had me worried. I mean, who is this guy anyways? I certainly don't know him, and these flowers...it's too much. If you want to know what I think, I think he's a little odd upstairs, and you need stop accepting his bouquets, and letters. You're leading him on. "
"Listen, if this Joe Kurh guy does this again, I'll be sure to send them back!"
"I'm serious, Angela. Please, for me."
They both smiled at each other, and after a few minutes of walking, stopped next to a at least 39 story high building. Angela looked up to the top of it, even when it made her swoon, and read the letters out loud to Bruce.
"The Gotham Times." she spoke, not too eagerly.
Bruce didn't look up, but looked at her, lost in her eyes.
She looked back at him, "Back to work, huh?"
"Yep."
A few seconds passed as they both looked into each others eyes, before Bruce decided to ask for a kiss. She reached up and kissed him passionately, as he did the same.
Cherry flavored chap stick, he thought. Mm.
They said goodbye, and she retrieved inside and soon disappeared.
For another second, Bruce stood there, looking at her descend up the escalators from the glass doors. He smiled, knowing he had the most amazing fiancee anyone could ask for, and that she was his. Turning back to the streets, he whistled and in no time, a yellow cab pulled up.
"Where to?" A husky, disorientated voice asked Bruce as he hopped inside.
"Wayne Tech, company house." Bruce answered the man.
The man's voice was unsettling, yet somewhat playful.
"You got it."
The ride was silent at first.
"She's a keeper, isn't she?" The driver spoke, startling Bruce.
"Who?"
"The one you watched go inside that humongous building." he answered.
"Angela?" Bruce asked, unsure.
"Are you asking me her name?"
Bruce chuckled, and mumbled a yeah.
The driver didn't reply after that, but Bruce waited nonetheless. He still didn't answer, and Bruce was now tired of waiting, so he decided to check this guy out. His whole attire...it was a bit creepy. He wore a green vest, torn and ripped, and his hair, however much he could see, were also green. Bruce decided to try and make out his face, which was hiding by a white and red baseball cap.
It looks like scars, he thought. A shiver ran down his spine.
This was getting a bit creepy for Bruce's tastes, so he payed the guy, and got out of the cab. He decided to walk to his destination, since it was close. Something wasn't right here. Not one bit.
Inside The Gotham Times publishing house, Angela, rummaging though the stacks of papers around her desk, let slip a sigh of exhaustion, and continued to look for the article that was due in exactly half an hour. Mr. Davis would kill her if she didn't give that in, and the possibilities were endless, one of which led to her being fired, which she just couldn't afford to happen since her rent for this month and last month were way over due. She never told Bruce any of this stuff, since she didn't want him to worry. He was busy enough as it was, and if he knew of her problem, he'd make her move in with him, which she just didn't like the idea of, not until they were married, of course.
"Yes!" she screamed with joy, jumping in her chair, and holding up a small booklet of white papers with writing on them. She set the mug down, and ran for the door, just when it swung open.
She fell back on the rough red rug, and hit her head on the leg of her desk, knocking over the mug down on her head.
Crap, she thought.
"Angel...shit! I'm so sorry!"
Angela lifted her head up, and parted her hair away from her eyes, so she could see who it was.
It was Donny, the courier boy, holding a bouquet of red roses and vines.
"No worries, Donny."
Angela pulled out her hand, asking to be picked up, as Donny set the bouquet down, and helped her retrieve her steps.
Though wet and however dirty she felt standing next to Donny, a mere glimpse of his blue eyes was enough to lighten her up. She stood around 5'6, not even close to him for he stood at exactly 6'3, even though he was younger than her by two years. His long, dirty blond , somewhat emo hair, covered his left eye, making him out to be mysterious, and that's what she found most attractive.
"Angela, you OK?" Donny asked, giving her a confused look.
She shook her head, "Yeah, I'm perfect!"
Her divided attention was now on the bouquet which was set next to her legs. She bent down, and picked them up.
"For me?"
He nodded.
Just then, one of the thorns from the vines made its way into her thumb, letting loose a drip of blood.
"Who's it from?" Donny asked.
Angela looked at him, confused also, since she thought it would be from him. .
She parted the vines, and could not find a card anywhere. She kept on doing this until she came across a rose which had not yet bloomed. It was a different color than all of the other red ones. This one was a black one. Well, it looked black, but if you payed enough attention like Angela was, you could make out the hints of purple on the petals.
Donny looked just as eagerly onto the rose, as it bloomed in front of their eyes. The petals parted, almost too technically.
"I've never seen a rose bloom." Angela said, not looking away from its beauty.
Donny nodded, hypnotized.
They both watched the rose double in size, and triple in beauty, until you could make out a white ... card inside.
"Uh..."
"Whoever sent you these is definitely a keeper."
Angela still pondered about the rose in her mind, that she didn't notice Donny had left the room.
She carefully reached to the core of the fully bloomed flower, pulled out the small card, and started reading it out loud for herself.
For the roses represent the beauty outside,
the thorns represent the scars inside...
And an eerie trail of red ink continued even after the sentence had finished. She turned the card.
Joe Kurh, she repeated it a few times in her mind. She shouldn't accept this. Bruce's words ran in her head. But someone went out of their head to time the rose perfectly, and to send her these. She felt like it was her right to accept those.
"Oh!" she remembered the paper that was due! Mr. Davis would have her ass if he didn't get the article by...crap! Just 10 more minutes.
Angela put down the bouquet, deciding she would decide what to do with them tomorrow, and shook off the last few drops of coffee dripping from her hair, and grabbed the article and left to present it to her boss.
Crap, she said to herself. It's going to be a long night.
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