Author's Note: Enjoy this latest chapter!
Interjections, Games, and Illusions
"You know," The Joker began smoothly, dark amber eyes flickering like a flame, "they say the quickest way to get over your grief is to take a shot of Jack!"
Time stood still and sound faded away into oblivion as Gabrielle stood motionless and wide-eyed, staring into the face of her past, not believing in the true tangibility of the image before her. For the span of a single heartbeat, she denied the man and then his eyes flickered. All at once she was assailed by a plethora of senses the aroma of wet leaves, moss, and sandalwood—the last which she assumed to be his cologne—which tickled her nose, pain radiated from her hand due to gripping the doorknob too tight, and then there was the thundering of drums in her ears. Was it the pounding of rain on the asphalt or her heart slamming rhythmically in her chest, she didn't know.
Misty eyes peered over his dark blonde waves, shifting over to the strong jawline and the cut in his lower lip, before darting over to either scar. He still has them. Blinking back her tears she met his gaze; tiny flecks of gold glittered in their depths and she took a step back staggered.
Straightening to his full height the Joker, or Jack as he allows her to call him, swallowed hard and licked his lips. Shock and trepidation graced her features and he cursed himself. What the hell am I doing here? Even as he asked himself the question he already knew the answer: he just... wanted to see her.
"Jack?" she whispered in disbelief, brown eyes as wide as saucers.
At the sound of her honeyed voice, a shiver of pleasure ran down his spine and he bit down hard on his scars. Had it always been this way, did she always have such an effect on him, or was it merely due to the time lost between them? Staring into her dark chocolate eyes, he felt heat pool in his stomach. It had always been this way.
"The one and only, sweetheart," he said with a smile.
Without warning, Gabrielle threw herself into his arms causing him to grunt on impact. Burying her face into the crook of his neck, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, lips dangerously close to his flesh. "I can't believe it," she breathed.
The umbrella clattered to the ground. Without hesitation, he wound an arm around her waist and snaked one dark purple glove through her curls. Cradling the back of her skull he pulled her in closer, pressing the side of his face into her hair, breathing in the fruity scent of her shampoo.
Instantly he felt a change: heat soared through him and his heart stopped and constricted painfully, only to lessen bit by bit as a new rhythm was found. All at once he became warm and giddy yet nauseous and winded; it was thoroughly exhilarating and he closed his eyes, marveling at the sensations that coursed through him.
"I can't believe it," she murmured once more, trying her best to hold back her tears.
"It's me," he confirmed with a tight squeeze.
Pulling herself out of his arms she ran her gaze over him. At twenty-eight, he was only three months her senior. And though creases formed in his brow and crinkles lined the corners of his eyes, there was a youthfulness to him. "How long has it been since the last time I've seen you, Jack? Five years?"
"Only if you're counting." Truth be told they both were.
Gabrielle bit her lip, nodding slightly at his words. "I'm sorry," she apologized when a tear escaped. "I'm just so surprised to see you." Stepping back inside she bid him enter. "Come on, Joker," she teased, referring to his childhood nickname, "let's get you out of the rain."
Jack's eyes lit up like a firecracker and he grinned devilishly. If only you knew how much I grew into it.
Retrieving his umbrella from the steps, he shook it out and closed it. Gabrielle immediately held out her hand and took it from him. "I have something for you," he sang, causing her to smile at his merry tone.
"What's that?" She called over her shoulder, tossing his umbrella into the holder by the door. Still in love with the color purple.
Dark red lips parted as she gazed upon the magnificent floral arrangement. Gathered together in a tall crystal trumpet vase were lush greens, white orchids, calla lilies, roses, and lisianthus, along with the illustrious Finesse rose in lilac. It was positively breathtaking.
Unable to help herself she extended her arm, fingertips running over the silky petals of a Finesse rose. "It's beautiful," she commented, inhaling the flowers sweet fragrance.
"I knew you would approve," he boasted from behind the arrangement as he stepped inside. "Lilac and white were Helen's favorite colors and roses and lisianthus her favorite flowers. As for you," he purred, "you're fond of lilies and orchids." Jack gave her a wide smile, revealing straight white teeth and two dimples, one at the end of either scar. "In a way, it's for the both of you."
In the vast sea of flowers that adorned her home that was gifted from friends and family, none of them were correct in terms of color or flower. But he remembered, even after all this time. It would be an understatement to say his act touched her heart, why it was practically soaring.
"So how did you know where I lived?" She inquired slightly breathless, closing the door behind him.
"After I heard about what happened I made a few calls," he answered looking over her home, taking in every entry, exit, window, and door as he noted the high ceilings, dark floors, and white walls. "I came into contact with Reggie and..."
"Say no more," she commanded with a wave of her hand. Reginald, or Reggie as he preferred to be called, was her cousin and a menace. A mechanic by trade he was the go-to guy for information. It didn't matter what it was stocks, gossip, fixed fights, deals or personal information, if you wanted to know something, he had the answer. Gabrielle simply said a small prayer that it was Jack who had been given her address and not a mass murderer. If she only knew, right?
When she turned around her dress twirled about her form and Jack's eyes immediately roamed over her body, burning everything in sight. Though modest, her long sleeved dress molded to her frame beautifully showcasing her full breasts, tiny waist, and the smooth flair of her hips. Clenching his jaw tight, he stared at her shapely legs for a moment and quickly raised his gaze to hers. She was none the wiser.
"You can place the flowers on the table over there," she directed, pointing to a circular table that housed two white candles and a picture of her grandmother.
"How long have you been in Gotham?" he asked staring at the picture of Helen as he placed the arrangement on the table. While he walked a fine line between high states of bliss and severe emotional detachment, he had truly admired the woman; she was the only one not afraid to put him in his place.
"Going on six months now," she replied stepping over to the table. "I moved to be closer to my agent and, of course, my grandma came with me. I couldn't have her staying in that big house in L.A. all alone." She stared at the picture for a moment, fingertips making small circles along the surface of the table. Maybe it would have been best if she stayed.
Without warning, he gripped her chin turning her head sharply to face him. Taken back by his action she gasped in surprise. It was by instinct that her hand flew to his wrist in order to pull it away, but something in his gaze stilled her. When she opened her mouth to speak twin flames flickered in their depths and she promptly snapped her mouth shut.
Holding her gaze, he continued to grip her chin in one hand, and with the other, wiped away her tears. She wasn't even aware that she had been crying. Cupping her face with a strong hand, he gently ran his thumb back and forth across her cheek, the action soothing and not at all unpleasant.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Brie," he spoke softly, his deep voice washing over her in waves as he stared deep into her eyes. "Helen was a remarkable woman, who always wanted the best for her family and performed all her actions out of love. I will always be thankful for having known her."
Gabrielle's bottom lip trembled and she blinked furiously, desperately trying to hold back her tears.
Staring into the dark pools of her eyes, he came to the startling realization that while her grief still captivated him, he would much rather have her laughter. A twinkle appeared in his eye and he continued saying, "I will also relish the fact that she carried a switch that could never be broken and possessed the ability to hit any and all moving targets with a shoe. Trust me when I say that her speed and precision will be greatly missed," he affirmed with a solemn nod.
A moment of silence passed between them and he thought she had forgotten. She didn't.
"Hahaha!" Her rich, throaty laughter caused him to grin and his eyes sparkling like the dawn.
So vividly could she recall Jack stomping down her grandmother's front porch, muttering a sassy comment, only to be smacked upside the head by a tasseled loafer seconds later. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, laughing so hard her sides hurt. Pitching forward she rested her face on his chest, shoulders shaking as she continued to laugh.
When she pulled back her eyes no longer pools, but a glittering night sky. "Remember when she threw it so hard that you fell down the steps!"
His grin fell. Releasing her with a playful snarl, he rolled his eyes heavenward and gave a loud smack of his lips. "It wasn't that hard," he snickered, hand inching up to the back of his head as if reliving the moment. "And I lost my footing on my own, thank you very much," he affirmed with a curt nod, making her laugh even harder.
"Really?" He said seconds later when she snorted.
Gabrielle clamped both hands over her mouth in an attempt to stop. It was futile. All she could see in her mind were dirty blonde curls flying in the air as he let out a loud, 'Dammit, Helen!' and went tumbling down the steps. He then proceeded to hightail it across the yard when the porch screen slammed open and the infamous switch smacked against the wooden railing.
"Go ahead, laugh at my expense. It doesn't hurt."
Chuckling low in her throat she wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not," he countered, not offended in the slightest.
"You're right," she said giving him a saucy grin. "I'm not the least bit apologetic." Wiping at her eyes, she bit back another giggle when he placed a hand over his heart as though wounded.
"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Curtis lives in the area. He showed me around Gotham when I first arrived. If you want, I can give you his number. I'm sure your partner in crime would love to hear from you." Amber eyes flashed savagely. "I would like that," he replied, smiling so wide that he thought his scars would pop open.
Gabrielle beamed up at him. "Wonderful. Let me write it down for you so I don't forget."
When she disappeared into the living room Jack abruptly lost his smile. "You're a dead man Curtis," he seethed, eyes narrowing into slits.
Curtis Wechsler was Gabrielle's eldest cousin, Jack's best friend, and like she said, his partner in crime. Just the simple fact that she had been living in Gotham around the same time as he and that Curtis had known made his temper soar. Growling low in his throat he clenched his hands gloved hands into tight fists. Oh, he was going to have a nice little chat with Curtis. Hearing footsteps, he pushed his rising anger aside and schooled his features.
Gabrielle emerged from the living room with a slip of paper in her hand. "Here you go," she said handing it to him. "I wrote my number as well," she informed with a small smile.
"Thank you. I'll be sure to give him a ring," he announced eyes flashing. I'm going to wring his...
"Have you been in Gotham long?" she inquired walking down the corridor and interrupting his thoughts.
"Not really," he lied smoothly, silently admiring the gentle sway of her hips. "I came on business and stayed for pleasure," he continued honest, purple wingtips clicking against the hardwood floor as he followed her.
Gabrielle paused and peered at him over her shoulder. "Are you still part of the-?"
"No," he interrupted more harshly than he intended making her eyes widen. "No," he repeated much softer. "I was honorably discharged."
Gabrielle's eyes flickered over to his scars and the corners of her mouth turned down as she remembered that night. "I didn't mean to bring it up. I simply forgot."
"It's okay," he stated with a wave of his hand. "It's in the past."
Nodding her head, she continued on. "What do you do now?"
"Unexploded Ordnance Technician," he answered without missing a beat, his gaze running over the pictures that lined the halls. "I travel across the US and other parts of the world and disable bombs, shells, and missiles." Gabrielle couldn't believe it, he simply traded one dangerous profession for another. "I'm glad you found something you enjoy." Even though her voice was even he could still detect the concern and his stomach clenched. Why such a thing bothered him he'll never know.
"Are you hungry or thirsty? I could make you some coffee," she offered, entering the kitchen.
"Coffee would be fine."
As they stepped inside soft gray light filtered through the windows that overlooked the city, causing copper pots to glow, appliances to gleam, and shadows to dance across the furnishings. While the hardwood floor continued the kitchen itself had high white ceilings and was Victorian in design, possessing high shaker-style cabinetry that was painted over in a deep forest pine. The highest level of cabinets was glass, exposing crystal stemware and white china. White knobs popped against beaded-board backsplashes, in the same shade of green as the cabinets, and black granite countertops toned down the room keeping it from being too frumpy, giving it instead a warm, homey feel.
"I believe your house is haunted," Jack proclaimed, humor in his tone and a hint of a smile on his lips. In the middle of the floor, a small mound lay hidden underneath a blanket depicting an image of the Millennium Falcon. Nerd.
"Oh, Biscuit," Gabrielle chided lovingly. Moving toward the mound, she lifted the blanket to reveal one incredibly wrinkly, and utterly adorable English Bulldog puppy. His coat was predominately white with a small brindle patch over his left eye and two on his back. Rubbing his soft fur, she scratched behind his ears causing him to awake with a wide yawn.
Sleepy yet warm brown eyes found his mistress and he immediately sat up, stretching to nudge Gabrielle's face. Returning his sentiment, she gifted him with a kiss. As she pulled back a dark red imprint of her lips graced Biscuit's forehead and she laughed gleefully. "Jack," she giggled. "I'd like you to meet the best little Bully in existence, Biscuit O'Connor, though he goes by Biscuit for short." Biscuit stood to his full height, which wasn't much, and barked proudly in agreement.
"Woof, woof to you too, Biscuit," Jack drawled with a smile plastered on his face as he peered down at the duo.
The minute Biscuit saw the Millennium Falcon taking off without him he barked in protest and dove for the edge of his blanket. He would have made it, but Jack was faster. "Easy little man," Jack cautioned when Biscuit squirmed in his arms, attempting to test gravity by trying to soar toward his blanket. "You'll get your ship," he promised, "though you might want to work those eyes of yours to receive the Death Star instead." Though he would be loathed to admit it Jack was as much of a nerd as she was.
"Give me a minute while I put this in the wash."
As she moved past them Biscuit growled low in his throat at Gabrielle. He promptly lost his anger and yelped when Jack tugged on his ear. "Be nice," he commanded firmly, softening the blow by rubbing gently once more. Pet or not, Jack wasn't going to allow anyone or anything to disrespect her.
Gabrielle walked briskly down the hall to the laundry room and tossed Biscuits blanket inside the washing machine. When it started she searched for the doggie wipes to clean her lipstick from Biscuits face and realized they were upstairs.
Jack's eyebrow rose to his hairline when she darted past the kitchen entrance. "Just a minute," she called over her shoulder. "You said one minute three minutes ago," he teased. She ducked her head back in arching a delicate black brow. "Then be patient and wait longer," she instructed, voice lowering naturally and become sultry.
Amber eyes soared to life, a slow, sexy grin appearing on his lips. "I'll be sure to do as you've instructed."
Outside the rain picked up and blurred the image of the city before him.
Jack stared through the window, eyes rooted to the murky gray light, watching with rapt fascination the raindrops that clung to the glass, along with the silhouettes of the buildings with their besmirched colors in the distance. The view itself was dark and moody, bringing with it a chill that made goosebumps appear on his skin. How magnificent, he mused to himself. Dark blonde waves fell over his face as he tilted his head to the side and he raked them back not wanting the image before him to be disturbed.
Stepping into the kitchen, Gabrielle stopped dead in her tracks, her apology dying on her lips. Half his body was angled toward her as he stared out the window, the light casting shadows to play upon his features, making him appear enigmatic and very, very handsome.
Unable to help herself, she peered over him, eyes growing darker with every second that passed. He had removed both his gloves and jacket and had cuffed his shirt up to his elbows, revealing broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and tanned muscular forearms. Only when she felt her cheeks heat up did she force herself to look away.
"I see you started the coffee," she called stating the obvious; she could smell its earthy aroma from upstairs.
"I did," he affirmed turning his attention to her.
The corners of his mouth turned down when he saw that she had removed her makeup and taking with it the dark red lipstick. But the feeling was temporary. The minute the lights from the kitchen hit her freshly scrubbed skin, it ignited the natural red blush of her cheeks, complimenting her caramel complexion and he licked his lips, loving what he saw.
"I, uh," he coughed to clear his throat. "I tried to adhere to your command, but after a few minutes I decided to make myself useful."
Gabrielle twirled a curl around her finger, ducking her head in embarrassment at how long she must have taken in total. "Thank you," she returned sincerely, the blush on her cheeks deepening.
"You're more than welcome," he drawled, grinning at her discomfort.
When she spied Biscuit propped on top of the island eating one homemade doggie treat she vowed to be better at time management.
Placing the wipes on the counter, she removed the small black throw she had under her arm and tucked it around him. It was greatly appreciated and Biscuit paused in the middle of his snack to nudge her face.
Jack tread leisurely across the floor, wingtips clicking with every step he took. Gabrielle raised her eyes from Biscuit to his and her breath hitched in the back of her throat. Jack's eyes were shimmering and for a brief moment, just a second, she glimpsed a deep-seated longing in their depths. But just as quickly as it appeared it was gone.
As he moved around the island she peered at him from the corner of her eye, glimpsing peacock and indigo trellis suspenders from his opened waistcoat. Swallowing hard, she focused her attention on Biscuit. It's just the dusty remnants of a crush, she told herself when she felt her face heat up and her heart pound. He's never felt that... way... about me.
Oh, but he has.
Leaning into the island at her side, he allowed his gaze to sweep of her lovingly, wanting everything he saw. For years he felt… Shaking his head, he pushed back his thoughts. This was their first meeting after a five-year absence and he needed to take his time.
Just about finished removing her lipstick from Biscuits coat, she heard an all too familiar sound: the Tardis. Pausing in her ministrations, she peered over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow. Jack was perched upon the countertop with the cookie jar in his hands.
"I just wanted to see if it was bigger on the inside," he stated with a sheepish smile. She merely rolled her eyes heavenward and turned around.
Seconds later he moaned, causing her to snap her head back in shock. Jack merely held up an oatmeal raisin cookie in defense. "Scrumptious," he declared honest. "Positively delectable," he purred giving her a wink as he took another bite. Gabrielle blinked hard and looked away.
"Tell me something, Jack," she began, still wiping at Biscuits face while Jack took a seat across from her. "What have you been up these past five years? I always assumed that you were still on active duty." Realizing what she said, she raised apologetic eyes to him.
Glimpsing the anxiety on her face he gave her a reassuring smile. "The last time you saw me I was on active duty," he informed, voice slipping into a monotone. "I went back for another three months and was honorably discharged. For a year, I traveled (became a hired gun), found myself (enjoyed it), and realized there were certain aspects of my old job that I still enjoyed."
"Working with explosives?" she interjected, remembering his current profession.
His smile was heart stopping. "Yes." He was completely honest when he continued. "I became a UXO Tech and with my background was able to fly out and work in Europe, primarily France and Germany. I worked there for two years and it was... exhilarating." With every bomb he defused, he created another, perfecting his skill until he could produce them with his eyes closed.
Gabrielle removed another wipe and cleaned Biscuits squishy folds, cooing to him when he began to fuss. "And for the other year and nine months?"
How astute. "I flew back to the US and made my home in New York where I teach in-between jobs." Of course by teaching he meant perfecting his own craft for killing, but she didn't need to know that. "I came to Gotham to..."
"Help with the Joker?" She inquired over her shoulder as she threw the wipes into the trash. "I moved right after he was captured and sent to Arkham. There were two bombings. I recall hearing the news say they were planted by him and that there are others located within the city. I assume you came to help?"
He nodded his head. "Yes, exactly," he said calmly, taking another bite of his cookie. It was a struggle to hold onto his poker face.
Gabrielle's shook her head and sighed. She couldn't understand how someone could be so cruel or wield so much power behind a padded cell. Ten people had died with two blonds alone, with twice as many injured. Fear gripped her when she realized Jack would be in the thick of it.
"Promise me you'll be careful," she asked him, her voice trembling. "I know your job is dangerous and that it's a hazard you're willing to take, but please don't take any added risks."
There was no way he could give her his word without breaking it. Risks came with his job, pastimes, and pleasures. After tonight chaos would ensue and even more danger would come his way. So why he couldn't make the promise she wanted, he could play around with words.
"I'll be careful," he promised, carefully schooling his features so he looked solemn. "I won't take any unnecessary risks, provided it's not for the good of the city." That sly devil, making himself appear chivalrous when he was anything but.
Leaning over the counter, she beckoned him forward. Jack inhaled sharply when she gripped his face in her hands and placed her soft, sweet lips against his forehead. "Thank you," she whispered pressing her forehead against his. "You just came back into my life and I don't want to lose you." Closing her eyes, she ran her thumbs along the smooth, yet puckered skin of his scars, sighing softly as she did so. The act sent heat spiraling through the both of them and her eyes flew open.
Embarrassed by her action, she pulled back and hiding her blush turned around and reached for two mugs. "Could you take Biscuit over to the nook?" she called over her shoulder shakily. "It's much more comfortable and I'll bring the coffee."
Not trusting his voice, he did as requested, nearly dropping the pup twice as his hands were shaking. Never had he felt something of that magnitude with just a mere kiss. His mind was spinning and his heart... Amber eyes blazed and a hint of a smile graced his lips. Oh, that action had sealed her fate for sure.
The cushions molded to his body as he took his seat and he sank deeper into them, resting his head back, and closing his eyes. Hearing her approach, he turned his head languidly and grinned. Her face was flushed with embarrassment and she was gnawing at her lower lip. How charming.
"Brie, I approve of your mugs." Gabrielle held in her hands two distinct mugs: in her right, a blue mug in the shape of an elephant with gold and purple accents, and in her left, a black mug in the form of a grenade.
"I collect them," she admitted not quite meeting his eyes. "With your profession, I figured this one could be yours whenever you come over to visit." Setting them down on the table she darted back for the cream and sugar.
"I would have made it for you," she said taking her seat and scooting Biscuit to the side, "but I don't know how you like it." Reaching for her trusty elephant mug, she poured a generous amount of cream and sugar.
Patiently he waited for her to begin stirring the contents of her coffee before he gave his answer. "I like my coffee the same way I like my women." The spoon clattered against the mug. "Sweet," he concluded hitting the T hard and giving a dark chuckle.
Despite her deep blush, she managed a glare. "You're deplorable."
"No," he corrected, taking a sip of his black coffee with just a hint of sugar. "I'm the Joker."
With his beautiful interjection of the truth cleverly disguised as a joke, they fell back into their role as friends effortlessly. Even after five years of absence and one impromptu kiss, there was no unease between them, but a willingness to reclaim all that had been lost. For hours they conversed, sharing stories about work, new hobbies, and old pastimes, laughing until their sides hurt.
All the while they reminisced about the past, silently vowing to make the other present in their future.
The door opened slowly, light filtering inside Gabrielle's bedroom, causing the gold deGournay floral pattern on her navy colored walls to shine. Towel drying her hair Gabrielle emerged from the bathroom clad in black lace boxers and a white American Horror Story t-shirt. Turning off the lights to her bathroom, she flicked on the ones to her bedroom, a smile forming on her lips.
Firmly planted in the center of her queen sized bed amongst a plethora of cyan, chocolate, and white pillows was Biscuit, his Star Wars blanket firmly tucked around him. Chuckling softly, she glided across the hardwood floor toward him, scrunching the water from her hair with the towel. "Little sleepyhead," she mused aloud.
Beep, beep.
Dark brown eyes flew to her bedside table. The light from her cell phone reflected off a glass vase filled with red orchids signaling she had a message. Praying that it was nothing serious as it was late, she reached for her phone.
If you're still fond of the night sky, have a look out your window. There's a view tonight that will take your breath away.
A slow, sweet smile formed on her lips. Of course, there was no need to guess at who sent the message. Biting her lower lip, she texted him back, eyes beginning to shimmer.
I'll be sure to do just that. Goodnight, Jack.
G'night, Brie.
Plucking a wine rosette pillow from the floor, she tossed it onto a chaise lounge and pulled back the charcoal gray curtains from the window. The rain had stopped long ago and she stared across the Queen River at Uptown, watching as the city lights twinkled in the distance. Despite growing up in the City of Angels she preferred to be on the outskirts of the city; it gave her peace of mind yet kept her close in the event of an emergency.
Tilting her head back, she peered up at the heavens and gasped. It was as though every star had come to grace the sky with its presence; they sparkled and shine, casting their rays upon the waves and making them shimmer and dance before her.
Briefly, she wondered how he could possibly have remembered something so trivial, and then she shook her head in remembrance. On more than one occasion he had joined her to stargaze and was now simply continuing to do so. If only she knew how many times he had watched her from afar.
Pulling back with a sigh she secured the curtains, wanting to enjoy the view until she fell asleep.
Fingering her curls, she bit back a groan; they were still damp. Not caring about frizz as she had no plans for tomorrow, she tossed the towel into the laundry basket and turned off the lights.
The white silk sheets were so cool against her body and she let out a moan of pleasure. They were extravagant yes, but worth every penny. Turning onto her side, she stared out the window a moment or two before allowing her eyes to flutter close.
It was all in vain, the moan and softness of the sheets, for she tossed and turned, sleep eluding her. With the side of her face pressed into the pillow, she opened one eye and peered at Biscuit, quickly becoming envious to find him sound asleep.
Admitting defeat, she rolled onto her back, reaching blindly for the remote. Grasping it she sat up against her cream padded headboard and turned on the TV, which rested across from her bed and above her white fireplace, just another extravagant item that was worth it.
Flipping through the channels, she decided on the news. One report after another was given and she found herself gnawing on her bottom lip, fisting the material of the sheets in her hand, waiting to hear the word that the man who murdered her grandmother was in custody.
Sadly, there was none.
After another thirty minutes, Gabrielle found herself staring at the TV through lidded eyes, barely able to keep her head up.
When the weather report began she yawned, ready to call it quits. Just as she was about to turn off the TV, the image switched from a map depicting rain to the studio. Both news anchors looked terrified and she sat up straighter wondering what on earth could have happened.
"We interrupt our weather report with breaking news," Daniel Morals announced fearfully, a visible sheen of sweat upon his brow. "We have just received word that the Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum."
Gabrielle's heart stopped. It couldn't be. Surely I heard incorrectly. But she took one look at both anchors and knew she had heard him perfectly.
"During a routine search by security this evening, the Joker was reported missing. Arriving quickly to the scene the police took the security guard into questioning along with the Joker's psychiatrist, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Police have stated that during questioning while Miss Quinzel cooperated in disclosing her whereabouts, she refused to give comment about the Joker's mental health stating 'That it would be unethical to provide information about her patient without his consent.' "
Michelle Williams spoke next. "Through tough questioning, a security guard by the name of Michael Donahue revealed that the Joker had been free for nearly a month! During that time, it is presumed that Miss Quinzel, along with many of those employed at Arkham, aided in the elaborate cover-up in order to protect their loved ones as they had been threatened be the Joker. While there is no hard evidence-" Michelle paused as someone ran up with a piece of paper. The woman blinked profusely, the paper in her hand trembling. "We have just received previously recorded footage from the Joker. Please be advised that it has not yet been reviewed and may be graphic."
A manic blur of white, black, and red appeared before a lone vintage Joker card was shown. Off screen came a raspy and deeply mocking voice:
"Hello citizens of Gotham, I hope you didn't rejoice and think that my reign was at an end. Shame on you if you did. As your Clown Prince of Crime it is my duty to see to it that you are... entertained. Before the games begin, however, I will issue one warning and one warning only: if you don't want to play, then I suggest that you. Get. Out. Now. For once the games begin, whether you like it or not, you're all players this time around and everyone will have their turn. Ha-ha-ha!"
A sliver of fear raced down Gabrielle's spine at his manic cackle and she swallowed hard, gripping the sheets so tight her hand went numb. When the image changed she nearly jumped out of her skin.
The image present bore no resemblance to the man who had visited just hours ago; bright lights shined down upon the Joker, making the red gleam and the black around his eyes appear like two gaping black holes.
Reaching into his waistcoat pocket he removed his pocket watch. Checking the time, he cackled once more, giddy with excitement.
"Well, would you look at that," he said snapping the watch shut. "The games have begun."
The screen cut to black, drenching her room in darkness.
Light quickly flooded the space when the screen cut back to the studio. As the two anchors readied themselves to comment, a loud bang sounded, darkness falling upon Gabrielle once more.
Biscuit, startled by all the commotion, began to bark in earnest.
Frantically Gabrielle threw off the covers and rose to the feet. Flying across the reach she reached for the light switch and froze. A red-orange glow danced along her wall. Her mouth hit the floor when she turned to the window, breath escaping her in a whoosh.
There's a view tonight that will take your breath away.
Rooted in place, she watched in horror as the Channel 5 tower went up in flames, not once making the connection.
I'll tell you now that it's a good thing she didn't make the connection as it wasn't meant for her to do so. No, the flames were for the people of Gotham and Gabrielle is not, at least in the Joker's eyes, a citizen of Gotham, but his. And while the Joker continues to play games with the people of Gotham City, he will perform a magic trick for our leading lady. By weaving together the threads of their shared past, the tattered fragments of his present, and their combined hope for the future, he will craft a beautiful illusion of history.
How far will his illusion go before she learns of its secret? Only time will tell.
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