When I got home that night David was no where to be found, so I made a point of packing an over night bag in case I decided to make my get away after all before pulling on a clean tunic style shirt and some ballet flats. I rewrapped my hand in gauze and when I got downstairs Jill was found crammed in behind the wheel of an enormous Studdebaker with Wendell and Hayden crammed into the back. Climbing in the passenger's side, we took off through Gotham towards the docks where the party was being held in an enormous warehouse.

Music was thumping as we pulled up outside and then we took off for the interior, discovering a dance floor when we first came in, complete with a bar and old couches and mattresses along the walls. At the back, the second half of the warehouse looked like a warren of rooms whose purposes were obscured by the cheap drywall that made them up. We got a drink of something alcoholic and hit the dance floor, letting everything go except the beat of the music.

I don't know how long we danced for, but eventually I needed to use the bathroom, so I wandered off towards the back. There were only a few doors along the back wall which meant that I would have to go into that warren to find the ladies' toilets. I pressed through a room that looked like a library, with book lined walls and deep brown leather couches. At one end was an enormous fireplace where a man reclined nude on a day bed while people in artists' smocks painted his physique before I was deposited in a long mirror hallway, only it looked less like a fun house and more like Versailles and I thought about how unlikely a place this was for such elegance.

I wandered through a stainless steel kitchen where everything was twice as big as it would normally be and made me feel twice as small as I normally was. Sitting against the island table was a puppet who looked suspiciously like the Muppet Swedish Chef and I paused to wonder at it's significance before pressing on.

The hallway I found myself in was in forced perspective, which meant it looked longer than it actually was. I tried a few doors before I found one that was unlocked. Inside was a huge ballroom with heavy drapes pulled across the windows. Torches hung on the walls, casting erratic shadows along the dark wood paneled walls. In front of me was an enormous Rococo mirror covered in a mountain of cocaine and beyond it were naked bodies writhing on the floor in the semi darkness. I thought I caught a glimpse of red hair riding astride a doughy figure before someone told me to either join in or get out.

I chose the latter.

Backing into the hall I ran into Hayden who accompanied me the rest of the way to the bathroom. When we finally did find it I stood and stared at it for a long while. It was an old pull chain toilet that looked like it would fit a small child, not a grown woman, and I felt a little silly squatting down on the minuscule porcelain bowl. After washing my hands I exited the bathroom and paused in the quiet hall, enjoying a moment to myself. Again I found myself confronted by those questions, what do I do about David? I didn't worry that I wouldn't be able to see Gran, I knew in my bones that he would let me see her. But everything else? Sighing I headed back to the dance floor and the comforting bosom of my friends.

As I neared the end of the rabbit warren I heard gunshots and a familiar high pitch voice calling for Brita.

Pushing through the heavy door I strode across the dance floor where everyone was huddled down on the ground.

"Here I am," I called out, checking my watch as I went. "But I've got another twelve hours."

"Not anymore, change of plans dollface, I need you now," he said, snaking an arm around my waist.

"Alright baby, then let's get out of here," I said, putting my hands on his chest and smiling up at him. Hoping it was enough to stop him from hurting the people there.

We walked towards the door together, the silence at our backs was deafening, but the great sucking sound as we walked forward. . . It was like being pulled into the maw of a terrible beast and as I began to quail before it's wrath the Joker turned back to look at me.

"I've got you now Brita, and I'm never going to let you go," he said queerly, from anyone else it would have been a comfort, ten years ago it would have been a comfort coming from him. But he had changed and fear spiked in my gut.

It was raining as we left the warehouse and I climbed into the passenger side of the van. I barely had time to buckle my seatbelt before he took off down the road heading towards Gotham proper.

"Now we gotta a couple things to do before we can retire for the night sweet cheeks, so just sit tight, it'll be over before you know it," he said, glancing over at me as he drove manically through the streets, driving up on the sidewalk to avoid traffic at times. For my part I dug my fingers into the dashboard and hung on for dear life, trying to ignore the pain in my hand that was muted to a dull roar. "Bruce Wayne's annual arts event is going on tonight, and I thought we'd uh, go have some fun."

He pulled up in a posh part of town, near the really swanky shops.

"Now, your dress is in the back of the car, put it on," he said before getting out of the car and striding off purposefully down the street. I sat there staring after him in shock for a full moment before turning to look at the inky pannier that filled up almost the entire floor of the van. Sighing I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off before climbing into the back and pulling on the pannier, struggling with the ties in the semi-darkness. Then I pulled out an equally inky lace and taffeta strapless evening gown with a corset bodice that made my assets shine. I pulled the shoes into my lap since I couldn't get them on back here anyway (I couldn't even reach my feet, how did women ever do that?), and I resolved to wait. I sat in the tissue paper from the box, waiting for Joker to return.

It wasn't long before I saw him walking back towards the van purposefully. Then he climbed in and looked back at me, shoving a cloth bag at me. "Put those on."

I opened the bag and gasped. A diamond necklace glittered brightly even in the darkness. "I can't wear this! Where did these even come from?"

The Joker turned and pulled his gun, placing the cold metal against my temple. "You will wear them, you will do whatever I tell you to do Brita or I will blow you away. Now put up your hair and show off that pretty 'J' I gave you."

I closed my eyes as tears slipped down my cheeks, and I put my hair up with shaking hands, sliding garnet hair pins into my abundant locks to keep them in place. My fingers trembled as I slid the posts of the diamond earrings through my ears. When I put on the necklace I could barely clasp it my hands were shaking so bad. And when I drew them away I felt the weight like a prisoner feels his ball and chain. The bracelets were both garnet cuff bracelets.

'Handcuffs,' I thought mutely. I thought of David, thought of the mysterious red head. If only he could see me now, a debauched maiden in stolen diamonds and finery that would have put the ladies of Louis the XIV's court to shame. What would he say? And more importantly, why did I suddenly want his approval? And why was I letting Jack cow me into submission?

I didn't have time to continue pondering this as we pulled up in front of a defunct apartment building and my childhood friend flicked on the van lights and crawled into the back with me. He slapped a powder puff on my face and decolleté, rending them white as snow. Then he painted a tiny black mouth on my otherwise white lips and lined my eyes with kohl with surprising delicacy before shoving my skirts up and fastening my shoes securely on my feet before climbing out and ringing a buzzer, then he climbed back in. A few minutes later several guys came out and got into a low town car and the two cars set off in tandem for, I assumed, our last stop of the night before bed.

Would the red head be sleeping where I usually slumbered when I got home?

Once again there was no time to speculate as we stopped around the corner from the museum and I had to be physically helped by two of the guys out of the van. I had trouble moving for the first few minutes as I strode purposefully back and forth on the sidewalk trying to get my circulation back.

"Alright, this is how this is gonna work. . .