For all those people who feel the burning need to continue reading this story, here's chapter 2
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
CHAPTER 2
Roxanne stared at the phone for what seemed like hours, just listening to the dial tone.
At some point, the phone receiver voice told her to politely hang up.
"Shit!" Roxanne yelled, slamming the phone down into the receiver, and violently pulling her hands through her hair.
She collapsed down on the couch in the living room/ dining room of the apartment, her head resting in her hands as she tried to take deep breaths to calm down.
"Fuck it all," She thought angrily, "How dare that sadistic CLOWN kidnap Katherine!" Roxanne began to breathe more heavily as she relived what was probably the worst moment of her life.
She couldn't even begin to fathom what might be happening to Katherine in the Joker's care. Frankly, she felt like she would've been better off not having called Katherine in the first place.
Roxanne looked up from her hands and sighed deeply.
"No," she thought wearily, "It's better to know this shit now rather than later. At least now I can come up with a plan to do something."
Roxanne took twenty minutes to consider the most outrageous and far-fetched rescue attempts that she could think of. She anticipated the Joker expecting her to do something to retrieve Katherine, but Roxanne's logic was that the more outrageous the approach, the more likely it will be to succeed with the Joker's methods.
Roxanne looked at her watch and groaned.
It was 3:00 am. Not only had she totally forgotten about the midnight screening of a popular movie that she was supposed to go see with her boyfriend Aleks, but she hadn't called him explaining why she forgot.
"Not that he'd believe me if I told him," she thought bitterly.
Roxanne tried not to think about that right now. At this moment, her mind needed to be preoccupied with hit-and-run rescue plans for Katherine.
Roxanne bit her lip with worry.
"Please be alive."
I used to be the best sleeper in the world. I've never had a scenario where I've lost sleep over something.
Got a final tomorrow and I didn't study? Don't sweat it.
I need to get up at 6:00 am to pick up family members from the airport and it's already 1:00 in the morning? I'm sure that there's a Carl's Jr that they can all wait in; I'm not panicked.
Are my neighbors undergoing some construction, and the worker guy seems very fond of chainsaws for some reason? Turn on the TV while you're at it, It's all good.
But that night, as I lay on my back on the Joker's bed, resting my head on his unbelievably soft white pillows, underneath his thick, fluffy, I'm-going-to-fall-asleep-immediately, comfortable white sheets, I couldn't even blink my eyes for too long, because they would just shoot right back open.
Sigh. You would think that the reason for my sudden insomnia would be due to the fact that I've been kidnapped by the elusive Joker, world renown for his methods of mental as well as physical torture, and merciless behavior.
But the real reason for my restlessness is due to the fact that I cannot wait until morning. I'm pretty sure that the Joker will return in the morning, and when that happens . . . I can't even imagine what kind of shit will go down.
Mostly due to the fact that my mind is too preoccupied with other matters.
What does he mean he likes me?
What did he mean when he said that I'm going to be a very valuable addition to his team?
Why has he spared my life?
Why is he treating me so nicely?
All these questions were swirling around in my mind, taunting me to no end, and overpowering all thoughts.
I rubbed my hands on my face, urging my eyes to close. I didn't want to wake up looking ragged and sleep deprived. I usually don't look very good in the mornings even when I get my usual 10 hours of sleep.
Roxanne referred to my look as the "Sexy bed-head,"
I rolled my eyes.
As if I can call anything about myself sexy.
Roxanne's words returned to my mind for the second time today.
"Babe, the Joker would take one look at you, and he'd just have to take you on the spot, due to the fact the you're just SO freaking beautiful, that he couldn't help himself,"
I mean, I guess that something similar MIGHT'VE happened today with the Joker, but I'm sure that he had his reasons for kidnapping me. I'm not about to believe that he just miraculously fell in love with me at first sight.
He probably just saw something useful in me that he could exploit to his own benefit.
The tiny voice in my head that always contradicts my opinions of myself spoke up.
"That doesn't mean that he doesn't see you as attractive," It said.
"It sure as fuck doesn't mean that he does see me as attractive," I thought back.
The tiny confident voice in my head quieted for the moment, and I sighed, turning onto my stomach, and burying my head into the pillows.
"Well," I thought, as I heard the soft and not so soft snores of the goons in the room, "I guess I could always begin to count sheep.
I rolled my eyes at my own pathetic demeanor.
1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . .
I woke up at an unknown time the next day, to the sound of white noise and angry goons arguing ostentatiously about something.
I looked in their direction to see a large group of big goons, gathered around what looked to me like a large-screen television, and I assumed that they were attempting to focus the screen, because from where I sat, the TV just looked like a big gray wall.
Finally, one goon had the audacity to kick the TV in frustration, and in about a second the screen cleared up.
I watched the goon's celebration of success from the corner of my eye. There was something more preoccupying on the news right now.
We were watching the news, and a pretty Asian reporter stood in front of the camera, talking about what went down yesterday.
"The Police believe that the bank heist that occurred yesterday at the GCBA, was caused by terrorist attacks from an unknown culprit. But witnesses have this to say."
The witnesses' face was blurred, and his voice was muffled and edited to sound different.
"It was terrible I tell you! One moment I'm putting a down payment on a new apartment, and the next I'm being tied and gagged and stuffed into a cramped broom closet. He made us play his version of a twisted game of tag,"
The reporter put the microphone back to her face, "Who is he?" she asked him.
The Witness paused and turned to face the camera. It felt like he was looking me right in the eyes even though I couldn't see them.
"The Joker,"
The goons in the room mockingly gasped and broke out into sobs for a minute or two until they all collapsed into chuckles and guffaws.
The female reporter on the screen turned the camera to the ragged remains of the Gotham City Bank of America, barely standing on its foundation.
There was an enormous gaping hole in both the front of the bank, and located in the back of the bank.
The footage we were seeing was that of the scene of the Bank yesterday. The reported couldn't get that close to the bank, so I could only make out that the hostages that were being pulled out of the bank had altered appearances. Some faces were painted to look exactly like the Joker's, and others were shirtless and had "WWJD" in bold colors all over their bodies. \\
For some reason, all of the hostages looked to be in a substantial amount of pain.
I looked away, ashamed that I could've been the one to prevent that. I just can't believe he would randomly choose to seduce me mid-rescue for these people! I mean, I'm pretty sure that there's an appropriate time and place for that kind of stuff, and standing in front of a room of panicked, tied and gagged hostages for a bank robbery wasn't one of them!
There was nothing I could do about this now, and so I turned my attention back to the big screen TV.
"The victims all collectively say that they were at the mercy of 'The Joker,' Medics though, found large amounts of Nitrous Oxide, commonly known to be used with Doctors and Dentists. The quantity found in the victims lungs, though, was enough to disillusion an elephant."
The goons burst out laughing as my mouth dropped open. 'I was in that Bank! I got really dizzy, but I never got THAT high!'
"Reports say that the victims were subjected to vast quantities of time exposed to these gases, the result of which, would leave the victims delirious and incomprehensive. This situation leads the people of Gotham to doubt the accuracy of the victims when they say that they saw 'The Joker,'
The Joker, as we all know, died two years ago at the hand of 'The Batman,' and has not been spotted in the outside world ever since. Has the sadistic 'Joker' returned to Gotham? Are our children safe from murderers and vigilantes? Tune in tonight, I'm Francis Lara, and you're watching HRL5 Gotham news."
The door opened with a slam, and in came the devil himself, carrying sacs of what I could easily guess to be some form of currency.
The Joker looked at me, licked his lips, and grinned widely.
"Well Well!" he began, "If it isn't the infamous Katherine Quinzel! Tell me Kat, what business do you have sleeping on my bed?"
I fumbled immediately to get off, but he stopped me with a hand, "Oh, I don't MIND. No, No, not at all," The Joker looked sly, "Just don't be surprised if you get any, uh, un-wan-ted attentions from a clown wearing lipstick."
I didn't know whether to leave the bed or not anymore.
My legs were falling asleep from being immobile for so long, so in the end, I decided to leave his unbelievably comfortable bed.
The Joker chuckled at my hesitance.
Once my feet hit the floor, the Joker snapped his finger, and all of the goons grabbed at me, trying to take my clothes off.
"Hey! Bitch! What the Fuck you're doing? Hey!" I yelled frantically, for the life of me, holding onto my clothing, doing my best to prevent the goons from stripping me naked.
The Joker took a few steps forward and called the goons off.
I wretched my body away from the last goon's lingering fingers, and looked at the Joker with a question in my eyes.
He laughed.
"Oh wow. That was classic entertainment," he said through giggles, "I thought that you were gonna kick all of them in the family jewels."
"I was about to! What the hell was that?"
The Joker sobered up and put a maniacal smile on his face.
"You're wearing the same clothes that you wore yesterday."
I looked down at myself and sighed, "Yeah, so?"
The Joker licked his lips, "So I thought that you might want a new change of clothes." The Joker pointed to a goon, carrying a blue pinstriped outfit that was protected by a thin layer of plastic.
It looked like something a porn star would wear if she were doing a scene in an office or something. The shirt looked tight, the skirt looked short, and the whole ensemble seemed very conspicuous.
I frowned, "Am I going to a business conference or something?" I asked the Joker, confused.
He laughed out loud once again, "You could say that."
I shook my head, "This is really kind of you Joker, but I really don't think that I can accept a-"
"Who said anything about your choice in the matter little Kitty?" he interrupted with a sickly sweet voice.
His tone went sour, "These clothes are going on you one way or another, and if you decide to be," the Joker licked his lips, "Difficult . . . then I guess I could get BoBo over here to dress you."
The Joker smirked, "BoBo's been VERY lonely for quite some time. I'm sure that he wouldn't mind the task now wouldn't you BoBo?"
BoBo nodded his head vigorously and stared at my chest with a hungry look in his eyes.
I laughed nervously at the appraising look BoBo was giving me, "That's not going to be necessary," I said slowly with a strained smile.
"Good. Now put this on."
He directed me to the back room and gave me the clothes. Inside the room, the floor was covered in unidentifiable filth, and I could've sworn that I heard faint scuffling.
Ten minutes of stuffing my chest into the shirt, and five minutes trying to adjust my skirt so that it actually covers my ass, and I was good to go.
Once I exited the undesirable room, catcalls and whistling filled my ears as I made my way to the Joker, who was still standing beside the bed.
I did a sarcastic little twirl for him. "What do you think?" I asked him.
The Joker stared at my legs for a few extra seconds. Then he looked back up and met my eyes.
"I think I should've kept you on my bed," he replied darkly. I couldn't repress the shivers that wracked my body.
The Joker straitened up his jacket and cleared his throat.
"As . . . fun . . . as playing dress-up has been, it's time to get to business. Now, I'm sure you're wondering, why I gave you these clothes. Well let me tell you Kathy-girl. I need you for my latest scheme. We're going to kidnap Nancy Harbor, the daughter of the Gotham's chief of Police. What we'll do when we get her . . . well . . . I'm sure we can think of something fun. Isn't that right little Kitty?"
"Um, yes?"
"And you, my delicious little Barbie, are going to be our distraction."
The ride to our destination was anything but placating.
My shirt was WAY too tight, and I kept trying to pull down my skirt and at least make myself to look like a classy hooker.
I blew some hair out of my face, because needless to say it didn't work.
Luckily, this time I was in the back of the van with only the Joker to keep me company. Not that this would be a 'Lucky' situation for any other person on the planet, but given the Joker's track record of not killing me in his presence, I'd say that I'm pretty safe considering.
The Joker grabbed my hand when I went to try and adjust myself once more.
"Katty," He began lowly, "If tugging on your outfit didn't work the last twenty times you tried," The Joker grinned mockingly, "What tells you it'll work now?"
I swallowed hard. I still couldn't get over his constant familiarity with me. I don't think anyone could.
"Uh," I replied oh so eloquently.
"Exactly."
I began to get a little frustrated when I felt the material slipping up my butt again.
"What size is this? Extra small?" I asked, reestablishing my efforts to somehow make the fabric magically longer.
"Yep," The joker said.
"Yep?" I asked incredulously.
"Y-E-P. Yep. A word that is meant to be an agreement. As in, 'Yep, that outfit is extra small.'"
My mouth hung open stupidly, 'I'm surprised I haven't died of suffocation. My body IS NOT a size small.'
I got a thoughtful look on my face, 'Well, actually, Roxanne HAS been forcing me to eat healthily lately-'
The Joker laughed, startling me out of my thoughts. "Katty, baby. Why are you making those faces?"
"Oho ho. No reason," I answered nervously.
There was an uncomfortable pause.
I sighed, "Can you at least tell me WHY I'm dressed like Business Bitch Barbie?" I asked quietly once again, this time hoping that he'd consider providing me with an answer.
The Joker glared at me over his shoulder, and we went back to that uncomfortable silence.
I sighed again, this time in defeat.
Was it too much to ask for a little information? Don't get me wrong, I love trying on clothes that make me look sexy and stuff, but everything about the Joker makes me nervous and changes my views on a lot of subjects.
Like good and bad.
Which reminds me.
"Um, Mister, uh, sir, uh, Joker du-"
"Just call me Joker, Kitty." He replied impatiently, obviously expecting me to ask where we're going or what are we doing; Typical questions that usually ignite terrible reactions from the Joker.
I giggled nervously, "Right, uh, Yeah, Joker. You never did tell me what you did to the hostages at the bank . . ." I told him tentatively.
The Joker turned around quickly with an eager look on his face.
"Do you really wanna know?" The Joker licked his lips, "Because I'm sure you know Katty, baby. I like to get into de-tail when I tell stories."
I bit my lip. "I like stories," I said, as sexily as I could manage.
It came out meek and shaky, and the Joker grinned and shrugged at me. As if to say, 'you were warned.'
The joker licked his lips.
"We all had some fun when you went for a little ride Katty-girl. We played all sorts of fun games, like, dress up!"
The Joker smiled at me, expecting me to react in some way. I just stared at him, and so he huffed in annoyance.
"C'mon Kat-her-ine. You know, Dress Up! And wouldn't you believe it, they all wanted to be me! They said 'ARRGH! AH! ARG!' At least I think they did, and so, I understood that they wanted to be me,"
The Joker looked at me again.
I stared again.
The Joker sighed, "Well obviously Kitty! 'Cause everyone always starts screaming when they see my face you know? So I took this as they wanted to dress up as me!"
I kept starting.
The Joker ostentatiously lost his patience. He threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes.
"Whatever Katty. Anyways, I wanted to dress them up, but what do you know? There's not a lot of baby powder in the bank. Now, for obvious reasons, I always keep some baby powder with me at all times, but even I knew that it wasn't enough for seventy-five people, so I took out the large jug of hydrochloric acid, and I mixed it with the baby powder, to try and stretch the powder, so that it would go on all the hostages."
I stopped him with my hand when he tried to continue.
I raised an eyebrow at him, "You just . . . happened to be carrying some hydrochloric acid around with you? Just, lugging it around like a backpack or a baby or something?" I asked incredulously.
The Joker's eyes widened, and he tried to look innocently at me. "Doesn't everybody?
"I sure don't."
"Well maybe you should start, it's really quite useful. Anyways! Now where was I?"
The Joker looked thoughtful for a moment, and then snapped his fingers.
"Oh yes. Mixing it up. Funny thing is, when we put the acid into the powder, and mixed it up, the powder got all slimy and stuff," The Joker grinned at me, "But that didn't stop us at all! And surprisingly, when we put it on the hostages faced, it caked right on!"
The Joker frowned, "But for some weird reason, when we put on that product, the people started screaming even louder. And their faces started to sizzle a little bit. Weird huh?"
"Totally unexpected," I replied, "Who would've thought that the acid would've caused them to scream even louder? Especially with acid's history of being oh so pleasant when in contact with human skin,"
I froze. 'When did I get so bold?' I thought in amazement, I was teasing the Joker! As I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the Joker to hit, me, grab me, threaten me, something!
A loud, booming laugh erupted from the Joker's lips, and I lifted one eye open, to see him smirking at me good-naturedly, not at all angry or annoyed with me.
"This," The Joker said, "Is why I like you Kitty-Kat. You're so feisty." He growled seductively.
Here come those pleasant little shivers again.
"Well, after I 'dressed up' most of the hostages, I thought to myself, you know what? Let's switch it up a bit. So for those few lucky little cock-suckers, I got some ink, and mixed it with that convenient jug of acid, and tattooed my name onto their backs, so that they'd know who did that to them, forever."
'Well that explains the footage,' I thought grimly.
The van screeched to a stop, forcing me to fall, and land on top of the Joker, my body lying across his torso, and my boobs right in his face.
I sensed that he was about to lift his head and shove his face into my cleavage, so before he could, I yelped, and quickly scrambled off of him, frantically busing myself by adjusting my clothing once more.
The Joker leaned upwards, eyeing me lazily, and grinning.
"Why'd you move?" He asked, "I was REALLY enjoying the view."
He winked at me, and I blushed for the first time in months.
He looked at me expectantly for the third time today.
I stared back at him.
"Well?"
"Well?"
He chuckled, "Aren't you gonna get on out there? It's time."
The Joker leaned over and unlocked the door to the back of the van, and pushed me outside.
I lost my balance on my heels, once my feet hit the ground, and I turned to face him, panic all over my face.
"Wait! You never told me what you wanted me to do! What's my job?"
The Joker grinned at me wickedly and shrugged.
"Order a sandwich on me."
He shut the doors to the van, and left me standing outside of the most posh, most expensive, most exclusive dining hall in Gotham City.
The Palace Au Versailles.
I just kinda stood there, staring stupidly at the entrance of the dining hall. Order a sandwich? Was that some type of code for something?
I realized just how ridiculous I looked standing there, gaping like some fish out of water. I know for a fact that if somehow I fail to succeed in whatever my mission is, the Joker WILL NOT be happy. Not one bit. Not at all.
So with great courage and a little bit of curiosity, I stepped through the glass doors into the elegant room.
A large French crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in the dining hall, the tables were covered in white cloth, and they were scattered all over the room. Large booths were located at the edges of the room, and famous paintings of the ages and around the world covered almost every inch of space on the wall.
The place was extremely posh and fancy to say in the least, and many people were there, as I assumed that it was around lunchtime.
I marveled at the black marble floors, and red velvet carpeting that lined the walls and floors of the establishment. I might've stood there for a little too long though, because soon, a tall, skinny waiter with dark hair and large, dark eyes seemingly noticed me for the first time, and tapped me on the shoulder, trying to direct my attention to him.
"Excusez-moi Madame," he said in a French accent, "But do you 'ave a reservation?"
Not wanting him to get suspicious, I tried desperately to attain a bit of class.
"Oh yes! I um, I believe I might have, yes, a reservation. Absolutely." I said nervously, taking great care to pronounce my words carefully and make them sound a little more elegant.
The waiter narrowed his eyes and took out a notepad with names scribbled on them.
He cleared his throat. "Um, yes. And, what name eez your reservation under by chance?"
I searched my mind for something clever. Think girl, THINK. What is a nice, common, classy name that I could use?
I thought about using my name for a second, but quickly eliminated that possibility.
I thought of the first name I could think of.
"Jacques?" It unintentionally came out as a question. And the waiter tilted his head in confusion.
He looked at me one more time before he looked down at his notepad, and scrolled down for 'Jacques,'
I held my breath for a few seconds, praying to every God I knew that somewhere in this world, this would work.
The waiter snapped his notepad shut, making me flinch, and he swept his arm towards the tables, gesturing me to follow him.
I blinked. 'Seriously?' I thought, amazed at my luck. I gave a little 'thank you,' to all the Gods I knew, before I turned my attention back to the waiter.
"Right zees way mademoiselle, Jacques," he said.
He began walking to the center of the room, weaving his lithe form through the spaces in between tables, searching for a place for me.
Unlike him though, I didn't manage to get through as easily or painlessly. I had to apologize many, many times for knocking over and tripping on chairs in my haste to catch up with the waiter. The fact that I as well as everyone else in the establishment knew that I didn't belong didn't help my lack of grace or propriety.
Finally we reached my table, which was located toward the back of the room, giving me a full view of the restaurant and all the people in it.
The waiter pulled out my seat for me, and introduced himself as Willem, before quickly extracting himself from my presence, obviously embarrassed by my behavior.
I sighed deeply and absorbed my surroundings. Nobody paid very much attention to me, all of them wrapped up in their own conversations to pay any notice to me. I saw a few men staring at me when I tripped though. That might count for something.
Not knowing what else to do, I picked up the menu on the table and looked at it.
Whoa.
The prices for food were ridiculous! Half of the stuff I couldn't even begin to pronounce! 'A small cup of soup for fifteen dollars?'
I tried to look for the most inexpensive thing on the menu, knowing that I didn't have much on me.
I stopped.
I didn't have ANYTHING on me. I had no money whatsoever. How was I supposed to pay for any of this?
I was too busy fretting over the concept of me paying the bill with no money to notice a very well dressed man pull up a chair at my table.
He cleared his throat surprising me, slowly, my eyes processed his presence before me.
He studied my face with great interest not blinking or moving in the slightest. The fact that this man had the audacity to just sit down at my table and stare at me, not saying ONE WORD, just analyzing my features put me at unease.
I had to break the silence.
I swallowed, "Uh, can I help you?"
The man raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, still studying me. I took a second to stare right back at him, studying his features myself.
He was a rather good-looking man, short blonde hair, gelled back against his scalp in a boyish fashion, square jaw, full pink lips, light green eyes and dark, arched eyebrows. I could tell that he had a nice body under his suit.
'Not bad,' I thought considering, 'So not my type though,'
"How old are you?" He asked me suddenly, his voice silky and rich.
I didn't know whether or not to answer him at that moment, but he seemed pretty harmless, so I humored him.
"Twenty-three."
"Hmmm . . ." He responded. I have no idea whether that was a bad thing or a good thing. He didn't say anything else, he just kept on staring, and I started to get a little annoyed.
I sighed exasperatedly, "Not that I don't enjoy being observed by random strangers," I began sarcastically, "But was there some sort of purpose behind coming here? I don't really believe that you just wanted to know my age."
"How much do you charge?"
I looked at him, and at first, his words didn't register in my brain.
"Excuse me?" I asked him, offended as comprehension began to dawn on me.
"How much do you charge? I really don't have all day," He said lazily. He looked down at his fingernails and raised an eyebrow. "Really. It's almost as if you're surprised."
"I am surprised!" I responded angrily, "I am not a prostitute!"
The whole room quieted and heads swiveled around to face us. My face was burning with embarrassment as I tried to ignore the fact that everyone in the room heard me.
"I'm not a prostitute," I repeated much more quietly.
The man frowned at me.
He gestured to my clothing, "Well of course you are! You're my 2:00 P.M! I got a note from your manager to meet you here. He described to me exactly what you were dressed in so that I would find you." He explained.
I opened my mouth, preparing to contradict his story, when I stopped.
'Maybe this is what I'm supposed to do,' I thought.
I raised an eyebrow at him, "Does the phrase, 'Order a sandwich on me,' mean anything to you?" I asked him.
His face lit up for a moment, and then twisted into a sly grin.
"Oh," He answered seductively, "You're THAT type."
I pulled back from him slightly, confusion evident in my features. "Wait, what?"
"Do you want me to buy you lunch first, or shall we go?" he asked me with anticipation.
I stuttered a bit before answering him, "Uh, I-I um, let's have lunch first." I couldn't wrap my mind around the situation.
I cannot believe that the first time I actually get to eat in the most popular, most expensive restaurant in the city, I have to act as a prostitute for a man I don't even know. I mentally sighed dramatically.
We ordered lunch, he wanted duck, and I tried the shrimp sushi, and afterwards, he paid the bill and offered his arm to me.
"Ready?" He asked with a smirk.
I was at a loss at what to do, I wracked my brain for options, but I didn't come up with any. Finally I decided 'Fuck it,' and took his arm as he led outside the restaurant, the valet holding out a pair of keys belonging to a silver Bentley.
I looked around before entering the car, hoping to see some sort of sign from the Joker, that I was doing the right thing, and not getting into a vehicle with an attractive stranger, but saw none.
Gathering up my courage, entered the car on the passenger side, and he pulled out of the lot, driving out of town.
I looked out the window and bit the inside of my lip nervously.
'God, I really I hope I'm not wrong about this,'
"Ok, wait. Just . . . just wait a sec," Roxanne's boyfriend, Aleks, began with a frown, "You're trying to tell me, that you think Kathy's been kidnapped by The Joker? THE Joker? As in, the same Joker that's been dead for two years? That one?"
They were at Aleks's flat on the fifteenth floor of a very modern, very sleek apartment building located in the hustle and bustle of downtown Gotham.
Roxanne sighed and rubbed her temples. She was currently sitting down on one of his rectangular shaped black leather couches. "Yes. And I don't think that she's been kidnapped by the Joker," she muttered, Aleks looked a little relieved.
"I KNOW that she's been kidnapped by the Joker,"
He looked at her curiously, and then burst out laughing, "Oh, Roxy, that was a good one," He sobered up quickly, "Alright now seriously, tell me the real reason why I'm here."
Roxanne looked at him, her expression unwavering. Slowly, his grin died on his face as the realization set in.
His eyes widened, and he tried to form words to create a competent sentence, but was failing miserably.
Roxanne stood up, threw her hands up in the air, and growled in frustration simultaneously, "I know right? Of all the dumb-shit that could happen to Katherine, kidnapped by THE JOKER? I mean really! C'mon now girl." Roxanne started pacing, and forgot about her boyfriend's presence in the room, while appearing to be talking to an invisible Katherine directly.
"If only we could bottle your luck, girl. We'd have a weapon of mass destruction in our hands! But seriously! The fucking Joker! Who's been dead! For years! I don't understand!" She began her full on rant now, complete with the flailing arms and red face.
Aleks walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her around, and forcing her to acknowledge him.
He looked into her eyes for a moment, "Roxy," he said quietly, "Is she alive?"
Roxanne looked back at him for a moment, and then looked down.
"I don't know," she replied almost inaudibly, "I just . . . don't know. She could be lying facedown in ditch somewhere or something horrible like that. I just. Don't. Know," Her voice broke off in a loud sob as she covered her face with her hands, refusing to cry in front of him.
He pulled her into a hug for a moment, and held her there until she pulled away from him.
Roxanne wiped her eyes with the back of her arm, trying her hardest to be strong and look confident.
"I don't think she's dead," She said with conviction, "I spoke to her at one point, and she was in the Joker's company. He didn't kill her then . . ."
Roxanne's voice trailed off, and she knew that they were both thinking the same thing. He didn't kill her then, but he could kill her at anytime.
Roxanne's head snapped up and she clapped her hands together in an attempt to change the subject.
She put her hands on her hips. "Well," She began, all trace of sadness gone from her voice, "I'm gonna just sit here and twiddle my thumbs while the Joker does who-knows-what to Katherine." She stated confidently.
"I've got a plan and I need your help."
Aleks brightened up. "Am I going to like, kick someone's ass or something like that?"
"No," Roxanne replied, grinning.
"Am I going to break into The Joker's hiding place and distract him while you steal her away?"
"No,"
"Am I gonna be your technical in a van, helping you with cameras and mini phones and what-not?"
"God no!" Roxanne said shaking her head in amusement, "We're not secret agents or something! This isn't Mission impossible, babe!" Roxanne laughed a little before sobering up.
"No, I need an artist for this plan," Roxanne said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. She turned to him and grinned.
"And you're just the guy."
I fell asleep in his car after the first three hours. I had no idea where we were going, no escape plan whatsoever, and absolutely, no possibility of calling for help.
If this whole thing didn't work out the way I'm hoping it would, then I would be in some serious trouble. During the time I was conscious, I tried to think of the bright side to my current predicament, something I've taken up recently due to the events over the stretch of the past two days.
"Number One: I'd get laid," That's for sure. I chuckled a bit little bit, and then frowned. But what if he has diseases? I shuddered.
"Number Two: He's not too hard to look at," Ok, I'll give him that one.
"Number Three:?" I sighed. That's it huh?
I think that that's around the time when I fell asleep. Time passed, and when I woke up, I found myself on another very large bed, on top of velvety black silk sheets with golden stitching, surrounded by an array of matching pillows of varying shapes and sizes. The room was vast. The walls were cream colored, potted plants lining the corners of the room. Thousands of candles were lit around the bed, and there were two doors. The one facing me were double doors with golden handles, and the other one was located at my right, and was considerably smaller in width. Finally at the foot of the bed, was an HD flat screen TV that was currently showing the image of fire in a fireplace.
I took a moment to assure myself that I was not, in fact, dreaming.
"Wow," I said in awe, my eyes taking in every detail of the room slowly, savoring it.
'Oh Roxanne,' I thought fondly, 'Why aren't you here with me right now? Why am I always alone at times like these?'
In a way this was incredibly romantic. I wondered if he would set up this scene for every one of his . . . uh . . . appointments.
I jumped when I felt something vibrate against my chest. Baffled, I tried searching my bra for a clue as to what might be the cause of this disturbance. Last time I checked, my boobs didn't vibrate. At least I don't think.
Finally, I came across something that felt like a little pebble in a tiny pocket on the left side of my bra.
Tentatively, I picked up the little device, analyzing it for a second. I thought I saw a miniscule speaker on the thing, so I put it in my ear, and listened.
"KIT KAT! Ay! You're just in time for the party!" I shrieked and threw the device down onto the bed. I was panting, staring at the little device with wide eyes.
'Was that the Joker's voice?'
I inched my hand towards the pebble-sized speaker, and picked it up again. Slowly, I brought it up to my ear.
"Well that was rude! Warn a guy before you go yelling your head off like that." I pulled the little speaker away from my face and studied it, disbelief written on my face.
"You-You-You, you hid a speaker in my BRA? How the hell did you manage that?" I asked, incredulous.
"Oh Kitty. Do you really need to ask? I AM the Joker for chrissake," I heard the Joker lick his lips, "Okay Katty, good job on finding our guy. Now, listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you. Because if you mess this up, you're gonna die."
Oh, okay, no pressure of course.
"So, I'm sure you've gotten to know our little friend Marcus Herrington, right?" I opened my mouth to say not really, but he didn't let me respond. "Good. Little Marcus has been a really naughty boy, and he's angered a lot of scary men." The Joker said, taking a pause to laugh hysterically.
"I was thinking of doing a little bargaining, you know? Cause, well, the Marc Man just happens to be the nephew of the mayor of Gotham city. And the mayor just happens to have access to some Uranium. And guess what? I just happen to be out of the stuff." The Joker chuckled darkly.
"But that's not the good part. The good part, is that the guy who wants to kill ole Marcus? Yeah, he just happens to be the Italian mafia boss in Gotham, Billy Torricelli. Wait, and guess what else?" The Joker paused for a second, "Billy Torricelli is also in possession of Uranium!"
The Joker giggled gleefully. "Have you caught on yet little Kat?" he asked me, sounding excited.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off again. "The highest bidder wins the prize!" The Joker laughed, "Whoever gives me the most money and Uranium will get to keep Mr. Herrington, and whatever they choose to do with him is their problem."
The Joker kept on laughing, as my mind processed the situation.
I couldn't help but feel bad for Marcus, even though he picks up prostitutes and he apparently dabbles in places he doesn't belong. Nobody deserves to be on the Joker's bad side.
For the life of me I couldn't figure out where I come in for this scheme.
"Uh, Joker," I asked cautiously, trying not to anger him.
The Joker stopped laughing abruptly. His voice went dark and smooth.
"What can I do for you my little Kitty Kat?" He purred.
I lost my trail of thought for a few moments as I tried to recover from all those hormones coursing through my body all at once.
Finally, I regained control.
I cleared my throat, "Right, yeah, uh, Joker? Not that I uh . . . care or anything, but like . . . what is my job exactly?" I asked him, my voice quieting with every word.
I heard slurping sounds. "Oh. Right, your job," The Joker sighed, and sounded slightly annoyed for some reason.
"Let me tell you then."
"You, my delectable little crumpet, are going to seduce poor ole Marcus, and when you have him right where you want him, BAM!" The joker yelled suddenly, slamming his hands on something, making me flinch, "You hit him with a blunt object and wait until we get there to pick you up."
I waited. He said nothing else.
"That's it?" I asked, in something close to disbelief.
The Joker didn't say anything for a minute, "I'm afraid you've . . . uh . . . lost me," he laughed for a moment, and then suddenly stopped. "Care to ex-plain?"
"There's no explosion? No grenades flying through the window? No cackling laugh before the lights go out and another bag goes over my head?" I found it hard to believe that any plan of the Joker's could be so simple and un-elaborate. I was still waiting for the catch.
The Joker began laughing in earnest now.
"Wow Katty, I had no idea that you were such a fan. This isn't Cirque du Solei, Kit. You can't expect me to put on a performance and set up some fireworks every time I wanna do something wicked," The Joker laughed even louder, "Tell you what though. Next time, I'll do something three times as, uh, com-pli-ca-ted, and e-la-bor-ate. Fair?"
I was at a loss for words. Somehow, I got the feeling that he hadn't really thought to hard about this particular plan of his.
"Well," I tried to think of something, "Well what if there's no blunt object for me to knock him out with? How an I going to get away from the creep?" I asked quickly. I don't really know why I was stalling, or what I would get out of continuing my conversation with the Joker, but I was doing it, so I guess I have some kind of reason.
The Joker paused for a moment, "Hmmm," he hummed, apparently in deep thought.
"Well then," he said finally, "I guess that you're just gonna have to fuck him, and wait for him to fall asleep or something. I'm sure by then we'll have arrived. Who knows," he said, his voice getting deeper, "We might just get a good show . . ."
My mouth dropped open. 'Sleep with this guy?' I thought frantically, 'But-But-I mean, I don't even know him!'
I backtracked quickly, "Wait, wait, wait, wait," I said, "Are you really expecting me to sleep with this guy?" I asked, panic evident in my voice.
The Joker huffed, seemingly annoyed, "No silly! I don't expect you to sleep with the monkey turd! I expect you to get him all hot and bothered, and then hit him on the head with something; preferably something hard, and knock him unconscious!" The Joker said this like all he was asking of me was absolutely no big deal.
"Oh wow, well then, if that's all!" I said sarcastically, my voice rising a pitch higher than necessary.
The Joker found this highly amusing. He laughed loudly for a few moments before sobering.
"Oh Kat, you really get me, you know that?" The joker chuckled a bit, "It's not like I'm asking you to kill him or anything! Just knock him out! Jeez, that or sleep with the guy. As long as you distract him so that he's too preoccupied to . . . oh I don't know . . . call the police for example, I'll be just dandy."
Before I respond to the audacity of him asking something like this from me, he quickly cut off all my protests.
"You know what I noticed Kit-Kat?" He began casually, "You seem to be thoroughly repulsed by any forms of touching by the male species. Could you perhaps by any chance be a, uh, ho-mo-sex-ual?" He asked me, and I could feel his grim from the phone.
I felt my face get hot as his words registered in my brain. I didn't know how to respond, because he was partially right, I DO shy away from most male contact. But I'm not gay . . .
'Do I really act repulsed by the idea of touching guys?' I thought, considering for a moment.
'I wouldn't mind if the Joker decided to touch me . . .' I thought before I could stop it, even though I knew deep down that it was true.
The Joker snickered on the other side of the receiver. "That's an awful long pause Kitty? Or should I call you Pussy?" The Joker burst out into some dark chuckles as I tried my best not to let his words affect me.
"I'm not gay," Was my final response to his taunts.
The Joker regained his composure, "Oh really Kat? Well then, I'm sure that that's a story you're gonna tell me some other time. Now I'm gonna go, and leave you to your antics. I'll be there sometime, so make sure to make yourself comfy. Tootles!" He said in a falsetto voice.
The line went dead.
I just stared at it, and then smiled. How can you not love a guy who ends a conversation with 'Tootles'?
I shook my head and grinned, and I made a move to put the tiny device back in my bra.
"Oh. You're awake." Rumbled a deep voice with a hint of an English accent that I hadn't noticed before.
I jumped, accidentally flinging the little speaker away from me, and into the deep abyss of the white carpet somewhere to my right.
I decided against going for it, and chose instead to stare at the shirtless, dripping wet towel-clad man standing in front of me.
He grinned cockily at my gaping expression. Shamelessly I stared at his nakedness, Admiring his tan body, and his finely sculpted abs.
'I was right,' I thought while ogling at his shapely legs, 'Underneath all those expensive suits and ties, there's a hot body,'
For a moment I seriously considered just saying 'Fuck it,' And get laid for the first time in a LONG time.
I mean, I wasn't a virgin or anything, but my first was a terrible lover. All awkward and lacking. So maybe this guy wouldn't be as bad. And I'm sure it couldn't hurt too much. But the tiny logical voice in my head (that just happens to sound exactly like Roxanne), that I almost never listen to, decided to speak up.
'That's not a good idea Katherine,' it said. I mentally sighed.
'When is it ever a good idea?" I thought back, frustrated.
I was about to ignore the voice once again and throw all caution to the wind, when it said something that stopped me.
'He's not the Joker Katherine,'
'What?'
'He's not the Joker. The Joker's who you want isn't it? You and I both know that this guys pales in comparison to who you really want.' It said smugly, knowing that for once in a long time, it's actually won the argument.
The lust-filled smile that was on my face faded, as I realized that the voice was right. He's not what I want. He's not the real thing.
'Dammit Voice!' I thought angrily, 'Why'd you have to go and ruin my fun? God, you're horrible,'
I could see Marcus beginning to look impatient with my silence, and soon he cleared his throat.
"Well," he began with a charming smile, "Shall we?"
I looked up at the ceiling and sent a quick prayer to all the deities I know. Conspicuously, I looked around for any lamps or something similar, before I faced him again.
"We Shall." I whispered.
He crept towards me like a lion stalking its prey. Heat flashed in his eyes, and a smirk crawled across his face.
I took the time to admire his sculpted physique as he kept approaching me, still undecided on the matter of letting him have merry little way with me, or knocking him the fuck out.
'I gotta admit though,' I thought warily, my eyes stuck on him, 'The man's not making this easy,'
I didn't notice his close proximity until he leaped onto the bed and moved even closer. I could feel his warm skin, fresh out of the shower, on my bare legs and thighs.
He never broke his gaze, even when he trailed his fingers up my thighs to the hem of my skirt, slowly lifting it out of the way.
He kissed me.
So rough and passionately that it made my head spin. I felt everything all at once. Lust, passion, heat, anticipation, giddiness, you name it. My thoughts became erratic.
I knew that there was something that I was forgetting, and that annoying little voice kept bothering me. This time though, I was able to block it out fully, as I surrendered to the soft caresses made by this handsome man above me.
I kissed him back with everything I had. Every frustration, every insecurity, every passion, and things really began to get heated.
He slipped his tongue into my mouth and explored my every crevice. He nibbled, licked, sucked, groaned, hummed, and all of it felt AMAZING. I sighed in happiness as he trailed his kisses down to my neck; my body overcome with all the pleasurable feelings.
He quickly found my pulse point and sucked on it HARD. I couldn't restrain the little cry that came from my mouth, even when I felt him smile against me.
Trying my hardest not to be to mortify at my behavior, I almost gave myself up right then and there when he reached a hand into my hair and began massaging my scalp.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation.
Tentatively, I reached my own hand up, and tried to run it through his long, curly green locks-
My eyes shot wide open. The hair wasn't long and curly; it was short and gelled back. Frantically, I grabbed his hair harder, and he groaned against my neck.
"Keep doing that my little sex Kitten," he purred.
It was all wrong coming out of his mouth. It was at that moment that I realized my situation. He wasn't the Joker, and I didn't want him.
Who was this guy who had the nerve to make me feel this way, disillusioning me so that I believe him to be the Joker.
My body surged with an anger that I didn't know I carried as my eyes deftly scanned the room for something I could use to . . . handicap him.
Unfortunately, I only saw a small modern lamp located at the side of the bed. Without even a hint of hesitation, I reached over, grabbed the neck of the lamp, and slammed the glass base of it on the back of his head.
He made a surprised 'Bluh!" sound when it made contact before he collapsed on top of me, unmoving.
I lain under him for a few moments, and I stared in shock at the hand that may or may not be responsible for murder.
'Murder . . . Oh God,'
I shoved his body off of me and jumped off the bed. There was a little blood trickling down his neck, and when I saw this, I felt like I had swallowed a lead weight. It was getting hard to breathe. I had to instruct myself on how to do it.
Inhale, Exhale, Inhale, Exhale, Inhale.
I calmed down after a few moments, and after settling some mental turmoil, I scrutinized the body for any signs of life.
I nearly collapsed to the floor with relief when I saw his back moving up and down with every breath.
'Ok Katherine,' I thought happily, 'you finally did something right.'
My legs gave out from underneath me. There's only so much a girl can be subjected to in a day! Never again will I be seduced right before I commit a felony. All those feelings are too tough on my poor little heart.
I don't know how long I sat there, but I almost didn't hear the locks tumbling on the main doors.
The Joker spotted me as four of his burliest goons handled Marcus. He stepped towards me and I didn't look up at his face as he stood two inches away from me. I just stared at the purple fibers on his pants.
He waited a second before he squatted my eye level, grabbing my chin and tilting it up to his face.
I looked into his pitch black eyes, and he stared into my hazel ones. The Joker then took on a mock sympathetic look in his eyes.
He shook his head, "Wow. He must've been terrible in the sac,"
I burst out laughing. I laughed that unrefined, unfeminine laugh, complete with the gaping mouth and the squinted eyes. I laughed so hard that it hurt.
'He always says the worst possible things at the worst possible times,' I thought through my chuckles. 'And somehow, it never fails to make me smile,'
I sobered up after a few minutes and found that the goons had finished binding the hostage, and we were ready to leave.
The Joker grinned down at me and offered his hand. I took it, quietly thanked him, and turned away before he could see me blush.
I rolled my eyes, I can restrain myself when someone is in the process of seducing me, but just an offer of assistance from the Joker can somehow morph me into a tomato. I've got it bad.
The Joker slapped his hand on my back hard, and I winced from the pain. He kept it there though, and led me out the door.
"Now, Kit, I'd bet money that you have a great story to tell me on how you fulfilled your duties today," The Joker licked his lips, "I'd love to hear all. About. It."
I got a distant look on my face, and smiled at everything I've done today.
I turned to face the Joker, and gave him my best evil grin before I responded.
"Well," I said, still grinning, "It's kinda a funny story,"
The Joker laughed.
Next chapter=sometime next week guys!
Review!
~SongsThatSerenade7