Eleanor tapped her foot impatiently. The click click of her heels on ceramic tile echoed through the empty apartment. Waiting like a skittish school girl for the phone to ring.
The matter to be discussed was slightly more urgent than a prom date. It had been more than a week since she had agreed to play the puppet in Jonathans little escapade. She knew she needed the perfect entrance into The Jokers life. One single careless misstep and she would have failed. Or worse, died.
But the man himself had offered the solution with his new video calling out the mob. Naming them as his next victims if they didn't concede his ruling. The mob had, according to Jonathan's sources, run for it. If the Joker couldn't find them then he couldn't dominate them. Pathetic little fools. A new world order was being established.
Apparently there was a mob meeting tonight and Eleanor was sure this was the place The Joker would stage his coup. She would be there for it.
Her cell tingled. She snatched it up but forced herself to wait another ten seconds before answering.
"Jonathan, what a pleasure to hear from you." Her tone was even and her face neutral.
"You weren't waiting by the phone were you?" His voice teased her.
"Of course I was, I take my phone everywhere. I wasn't, however waiting for your phone call."
"If you insist."
"I do. Do you have the location?" Tension strayed into her voice for the first time. This could be dismissed as the approaching encounter.
"I do and if I could find it…"
Then most certainly The Joker could," Eleanor finished.
"I'll text you the address."
"I wish we could talk this through in person."
Jonathan had refused to come to her apartment, claiming he could not be linked to her. Especially as batman wanted him for his exploits as 'The Scarecrow.'
"Eleanor, you will be fine."
"Do I detect concern?"
"Not at all." He disconnected.
She sighed and tossed the phone onto the counter and walked over to the mirror. She studied her reflection. Faultless. The red dress draped off her curves exquisitely and so it should. She had payed an inordinate amount for it.
Her nails were manicured red and her make up tasteful. Her chestnut brown hair and round almond eyes stunning. She looked elegant, composed and civilised. Eleanor needed this to be The Joker's first impression of her.
He had to read her and then be thrown the minute she opened her mouth.
There was still the hint of apprehension in her eyes. That needed to be taken care of. She had to be a picture of confidence even if she was screaming inside. Nothing he could do to others would shock her but if he turned the threat upon her own person… that would be a problem.
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The men of the mob did not seem particularly surprised to see him enter, cackling feverishly. They did however look horrified and that tickled him.
"Gentleman," he began. His voice coming from no lower than his throat. His glee at the situation evident in his tone.
He paused for dramatic effect. He was nothing if not an excellent performer.
"Your struggle for control, it uh, what's the word. It, uh, amuses me." His tongue darted out of his mouth. An unnoticed tic. "But I feel like we've done this dance before and now it's so boooooring. Boring. Boring. Boring."
He snapped his teeth at their frozen faces and a giggle escaped.
"But," he waved his arms like a conductor, "I've decided that killing you all would be a waste… of my considerable talent, not your lives."
His audience stirred. Not because of boredom but outrage. Oh he hoped someone would say something. He wanted to slice through skin and see their fear so badly it was a physical ache. His fingers tapped enthusiastically at the very idea of marring someone.
No one spoke. He stomped his foot and pouted but snickered again. Revulsion was beginning to replace the horror. Yes well, not as good as fear but it would do.
"Don't look so glum Gentleman. You will still grind out your profit but when I say jump, you jump now, even if it's off a building." He mimed the fall with his hand and ended with a squelching noise. He bared his teeth with the last sound and fixed them with a solemn expression. He wasn't bluffing on this.
"Crazy mother-"
The man never got to complete the expletive. The Joker had his face slammed hard against the table.
"Now those aren't very," he paused, his tongue snaked out, "complimentary… words."
His words were slow and punctuated. His voice cracked. His inflection light still but the malice was overwhelming. He smacked his lips before launching into action.
"This," He banged the mans head against the table for emphasis. "will." Bang. "not." Bang. "Be tolerated!"
He lurched the man backwards onto the ground, where he lay still, his nose obviously shattered.
The Joker slumped back into his seat and made a show of sweeping his oily green hair off his face. He waggled a disapproving finger at the unconscious man, tutting in reprimand. He switched his concentration back to the conscious members of the mob.
"Well that was fun. I hear exercise if good for the soul."
No one dared make another comment. Ah submission. Gave him warm tingling feelings starting at his toes. His fingers had ceased jiggling for the moment, having found a temporary outlet for his energy.
"Do I have your cooperation?" He knew he did but he wanted to push the humiliation just a bit further. He raised both eyebrows, waiting, as if on the edge of his seat.
One by one they inclined their heads. He clapped with sadistic pleasure. "Good. Last time I made the explosive exit. We're going to do things a little differently this time. You go! Go! Vanish! Vamoose!"
There were blank stares so he fired a round from his gun. They scattered like the inconsequential serfs they were. Like vermin.
The room emptied of everyone but his henchmen. Almost everyone. There was a woman reclining in a seat near the back. She had dragged another chair up and was casually, no insubordinately, propping her legs up on it. She was looking at the ceiling with an expression that was both wistful and bored.
She was dressed in blood red. How had he missed her amongst all the grey and black?
"Excuse me. Did you miss the gunfire? Cos that was your marching orders." He didn't rise from his seat. This was probably just some dumb mistress. Not anyone of interest.
She brought her head around and brazenly made eye contact. "I'm sorry, have you stopped talking?"
Deliberate, baiting.
Well this was a very stupid pretty. It might be worth cutting up her face just a little. But so much effort for such minimal satisfaction? He'd give her another escape option.
"The mob has left." He bit his lip and smirked. "You're all alone with little old me." He pretended to preen his jacket. Fiddling with his tie in obscene parody of grooming made all the more disgusting by the constant smacking of his lips.
She lifted her legs off the chair and turned to face him fully. "They aren't my employers."
"Sugar daddy's then." He faked a bashful wince, "is that not the politically correct term?"
"Oh they've never seen me before in their life." She folded her delicate hands under her chin.
The Joker braced his hands on the table, evenly spread. "Oh really?" his henchmen were moving forward. Closer to this woman.
"You'd be surprised how no one questions a beautiful woman."
"You are gorgeous." He stressed the last word and panted lewdly.
He thought he saw her jaw tighten and she took a deep breath. "I know I'm stunning, compliments bore me. It's my disguise."
He darted his tongue out. He knew his eyes were beginning to look uncertain. The trick was to ask questions with sarcastic tones. No one would notice the confusion.
"Disguise?" His voice now high and British!
"Not as comprehensive as yours maybe," she waved her hand in his direction and for the first time her haughty attitude broke. The Joker grinned. The make up unnerved people.
"But effective none the less," she finished.
"Why are you here lady?" No embellishments now. This conversation was getting tedious and he wasn't sure why he was having it. He could be causing mayhem. He was going to have her killed he decided. Let's see if her insides matched the colour of her dress. He was lifting his hand for the order when she spoke again.
"I'm here to meet you of course."
He narrowed his eyes and flicked his tongue. People did not want to meet him. He wasn't a social kind of guy.
"What's your name?"
She blinked twice and hesitated. Too long. "Cath-"
He slammed his hands on the table. "Real name," he barked.
There was trepidation growing in her eyes and for some reason that made her smile. "Eleanor."
"And you want to meet me why, Eleanor?"
"I'm a psychologist."
This started a strong wave of laughter. Eleanor endured, having expected nothing less.
"So that's why you're here." He stood up with a flourish and did a little turn. He moved towards her as he spoke. "To fix me? To cure me?"
His voice dropped an octave and he was soon invading her space.
Her cheeks were flushed. "Fix you?" She was now speaking with emotion. It was genuine. "There's nothing to fix! You're a masterpiece! I want to observe, that's all."
"You don't think I'm a freak?" he was still in her face. He practically spat out the last word.
She regained her composure. "I wouldn't say that."
He threw himself into the chair Eleanor's feet had occupied. He grabbed her hand and he felt the initial jerk as she fought her first instinct to recoil.
"Eleanor… are you a groupie?" Purposefully offensive. He was annoyed when she just grinned.
"My interests do lean towards the… the unconventional but my interest is purely professional."
Sometime during the conversation he had reached for his knife with his spare hand. He toyed with it, finding it a comfort. She noticed too.
"Is it the scars?" he asked suddenly, grabbing her face. "Do they scare you? Wanna know how I got them?"
"They repulse me!" Eleanor interrupted, answering honestly, impulsively. "You're whole psychic repels me. You're mind, on the other hand, terrifies me. Fascinates me." The last part was whispered.
He stared into her eyes and was startled to realise she was lying about being revolted. There was a spark of lust there. The Joker was not used to people looking at him with lust. Never expected it especially not from such a symmetrical woman. One who apparently was excited by fear.
"You're playing a very dangerous game." He wasn't looking at her. His eyes had drifted up as they often did when he was thinking and talking.
"I'm playing your game."
He lent back. Couldn't argue that. "So no chance of some action?" His tongue traced his lips rudely and suggestively. He wasn't interested in sleeping with her. He was an asexual to all intents and purposes, he just wanted her off guard. His only love: disorder.
"I have to have complete power over the people I sleep with, lunatic or not… You are no one's pawn." There was a pause and suddenly, shockingly, she was close to him. "If I ever have total dominance of you I'll give you the ride of your life. Bad teeth and all."
The Joker started giggling. "You're beginning to grow on me. Not desire. You're too put together. Too proportioned for my tastes."
"Too perfect?"
"Haven't even known each other for an hour and already she's fishing for compliments." It was a sweeping statement directed at his henchmen who obligingly laughed at his little witticism. A couple of seconds too late though. He would have to teach them about cues.
He stood up and did a little skip so he was behind Eleanor. Breathing down her neck like an over attentive lover. One gloved finger touched the curve where her neck met her shoulder. It was curiously intimate, touching that smooth unblemished skin without invitation. He wanted to sink his teeth into her flesh, maim and mark it.
"Gotham is Rome." She almost stuttered.
"Excuse me?"
"The city of Rome burned. You're the fire and I'm Nero. I want to witness this historical moment. Make my own assessment."
"And play the violin?"
"Violin optional." She was calmer now. She had his attention and interest now.
He pulled away and she released a breath. He sauntered over to lounge on the desk. Displaying himself. He ran a hand mockingly down his body. "Personally I can't see how anyone could resist me." His tone was breathy and high once more. "But I find my self a little confounded such a classy psychologist such as yourself is here."
"Curiosity." She shrugged.
He tapped his cheek, thoughtful. "I recall a story about curiosity and a cat." He wrinkled his nose. "Didn't end well."
"Excellent thing I'm not a cat."
He examined his nails, ignoring her for the moment. "It gets pretty rough out there sweetheart. Not sure you could handle it."
"I can." She was tough and defiant.
He flicked his eyes up to her again. Eleanor's gaze was steady. Maybe she was telling the truth and was just as… what word did she use? Unconventional. Was as unconventional as him.
Only one way to find out. He gestured one of his henchmen over who came blindly. He lashed out, with an unsuspected agility and got him in a choke hold.
He brought the knife to his throat.
The Joker held her eyes, unmindful of the man now squirming in his arms. He was insignificant, Eleanor was the priority.
"I'm going to kill this man." The Jokers tongue darted and Eleanor thought he resembled a reptile when he did that.
"Why?" Eleanor asked.
The Joker shrugged. "I don't like him perhaps?" He hoped his palpable lack of a reason would entice a reaction. No luck.
"Go ahead."
The Joker stayed motionless for a moment. Even when he wasn't moving he radiated agitated energy.
"Nothing else to say?"
Eleanor was crazy inside her head but she kept her expression impartial.
"No… wait, yes…. No blood on this dress. It's new." With that statement she rose elegantly and moved to a spot far against the wall. She kept watching avidly though.
She nonchalantly waved her hand. "Proceed."
He delayed a second longer, hoping she would cave and speak. Her mouth stayed firmly shut. He gave a grunt and drew the knife swiftly across his victim's throat. The Joker held him against him as the body twitched in its dying. This man didn't concern him but that was no reason not to savour his passing.
He waited for the rasping, gurgling to end before letting the body fall against the floor. Eleanor hadn't even flinched.
He stretched his shoulders in an elaborate display. Acting as if he had done a hard days work and this noticeable charade excited Eleanor. The man appeared weedy and limp but he had a hidden strength that kept his henchman in a deadly grip while exerting no extreme effort.
He applauded Eleanor. Sardonically, holding his hands at arms length. "Bravo. You passed the test."
"You let me follow you?" Eleanor winced as soon as she said the words. Too needy and feeble.
"I meant, I'll let you live." He giggled. He had had his fill of this woman, gutsy as she was and mad to boot. He made to leave the room.
"Wait! If I can guess one true fact about you let me come on your next heist."
He lifted his eyebrows, intrigued by the challenge. He languidly rolled his head so he was looking at her over his shoulder.
"Maybe." He sounded like a child meanly teasing. The word was slow and annunciated.
"You're a smoker. Were. You were a smoker."
The Joker coughed pointedly. "So? What if I was? Not very insightful. Are you sure you aren't shocked from the death? It disconcerts some people." He was mocking her.
"Smoking means you were addict. That hints at some interesting personality traits. It also means you quit. I could form a whole analyse on that one fact and it would be relatively true."
While she had spoken he had stalked up to her, forcing her backwards but not making her stop talking. He seized her jaw hard in his fingers, decisively hurting Eleanor. She could smell the artificial makeup paints. Heady and acidic. It was overwhelming.
"Means you were human once," she finished in a rasp, alarmed but determined not to set a precedence in which he had the power. He didn't particularly like that statement. It was an insult to him, he was above this writhing struggling species.
He flicked his tongue and this time he was close enough it touched her cheek. Hot, wet and then gone. He let all the spark and hilarity leave his eyes. Leaving them the empty pits of darkness that they were in his bleakest times.
He could now see the fear in Eleanor's eyes and for the second time she comprehended the evilness and gravity that lurked inside the man. Joker, maybe, but it wasn't all fun and games. It also left her weak in the knees and petrified her.
His hand was firm and it was holding her at an uncomfortable angle, forcing her on her toes. He was deceptively tall. Eleanor reached out to grab his jacket lapel to steady herself. An issue of balance, nothing else. But this was the first contact another person had initiated with him that wasn't violent.
It threw him. He wanted her gone but was too engrossed. Who could stomach him? What kind of creature would touch him?
"Is it true?" Eleanor was talking. He had forgotten the conversation, lost in the sudden rush of sensation.
"I was a smoker. Happy?"
"Not excessively."
"You should be." He released her suddenly and she staggered back into her chair. The Joker framed his own face with his hands, indicating the scars. "A smile gets you a long way."
"Congratulations you have a job." He danced towards the door. "Don't call me, I'll call you!"
Then he was gone, skipping and snickering as if he'd had the best time in the world.
Eleanor was left alone. Her first encounter with The Joker. She slept with the lights on that night.
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