"I'll just have a glass of water please," Cassie told the waiter as she looked over her menu. She and her best friend Caroline were sitting at a table in their favorite Italian restaurant, debating on either getting the usual, or trying something new.
They did this on the first Friday of every month, just to catch up and gossip like best friends always do.
"Cassie, really, you should have a drink," Caroline chuckled, sipping her strawberry daiquiri. "God knows you deserve one."
"I'll be okay, Car, really," Cassie said, still eyeing her menu. "Besides, a drink won't fix anything."
Caroline shook her head mid-sip, her straight blond hair swinging gently from side to side. "I strongly disagree with that," she said, smacking her lips.
Cassie shrugged, already noticing that her best friend's gray eyes were glazing over. "I think I'll give the stuffed mezza luna a try this time. What do you think?"
When she didn't receive an answer right away, Cassie glanced up at her best friend, who seemed to be staring off into space. When Cassie followed her stare, she saw who had attained Caroline's attention.
"I don't know about you, but I'd definitely love to give him a try," she said, her voice low and seductive.
Cassie rolled her eyes and scoffed. Caroline, of course, was referring to Bruce Wayne, Gotham's very own billionaire playboy, who just so happened to be sitting at a booth not too far from them. There was a beautiful, busty blond with him, practically sitting in his lap.
"Of course you would."
The rest of the meal continued pleasantly, with Cassie showing off her 2k engagement ring, and Caroline complaining about Rick, her latest boyfriend. Cassie was barely listening.
"...and then he tells me that I'm selfish, when he's the one who bailed on me to go watch a badly dubbed martial arts film with his friends..."
"Uh-huh," Cassie nodded absentmindedly, running her index finger around the edge of her glass.
"...and I know for a fact that he is never going to propose like Kevin, so I should probably just get out now..."
"Okay. You do that."
Cassie couldn't help herself. Since the chatter had quieted down, her mind was allowed to wander, and it wandered back to the demented clown she had had a session with earlier that week...
"Well then... you can address me as Mr. J."
He leaned forward slightly and winked, before the guard forced him to sit back.
"Alright then.." Cassie mumbled, writing something else down. "Also, a possible case of advanced psychosis.."
The Joker rolled his eyes and smacked his lips, clearly bored with his current predicament.
Cassie leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for him to say something else. When he didn't, she watched him.
His make-up was creased and smeared in random places, such as his forehead, the corners of his eyes and around his nose. He was tan beneath the make-up, she could tell, and so were his arms and his neck. His physicality screamed arrogance, but not necessarily confidence. She noticed the muscled lines of his arms and the broadness of his shoulders. His fingernails needed a cut, and he himself could use a wash, but other than that, he was fairly attractive..
She stopped herself. What was she doing? He was a patient, a prisoner. A madman, no less. That's all he would ever be to her. That was all she ever wanted him to be..
"I see they've agreed to let you continue to wear your make-up while you're here," she commented, tapping her pen on the clipboard.
Joker smirked, tracing patterns on the tabletop with his finger.
"They didn't when I first got here," he muttered, occasionally glancing up at her. "They turned the hoses on me, and gave me a good scrub down."
He chuckled every other word and spoke animatedly, with many hand gestures and facial expressions. Cassie listened intently.
"So, what I did was... I stole some shoe polish from the janitor. You know, for the eyes," he gestured to his face as he spoke. The handcuffs never seemed to hinder him, as if he was used to having them on.
"Then, uh, I caught up with an old pal of mine by the name of Dr. Crane... traded for some baby powder to make the face paint. At least, I think it was baby powder..."
He trailed off, his eyebrows pulling together in mock concentration. Then he continued.
"But, I couldn't find anyone crazy enough to give me lipstick! So, what happened was, I ended up having to bite of a guard's finger and use that."
His smirk had spread wide into a full blown smile, mischievous and arrogant.
"After that," he continued, as if he was having a conversation with an old friend, "they pretty much let me have all the make-up products I wanted."
He leaned forward again, clicked his tongue in a teasing manner, and winked. Once again, Lyle pulled him back, more forcefully this time.
"This is your last warning," he said, crossing his arms over his bulking chest.
Joker rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers against the table.
Cassie sighed. She soon realized that diagnosing the Joker would be more difficult than she had thought.
"Cassie, I am going to get up and leave you behind with the check if you don't snap out of it!"
"Huh?" Cassie blinked, unaware that she had let Caroline ramble on a little too long.
Caroline sighed. "Is there something you want to tell me? Something that we should talk about? Because you've never acted this way before.."
The sound of someone clearing their throat beside them interrupted her. They both turned to look up slowly, only to find none other than Bruce Wayne and his date standing in front of them.
"Pardon our intrusion," he smiled. His voice was suave and masculine, a voice that would make a woman of any age melt. "But aren't you Dr. Cassandra Gabriel?"
Caroline's jaw dropped open as she stared at her friend in complete envy. Cassie blushed, but nodded and said "Yes, I am. And you're the renowned Bruce Wayne."
Bruce laughed, a throaty, hearty chuckle. "Well, I'm not so sure about renowned, Doctor." He held out his hand, and Cassie stood to accept it.
He lowered and gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand. The spot tingled for a moment, and Cassie was taken over by an overwhelming sense of deja vu.
"And by the way," Bruce said with a wink. "Call me Bruce."
"Call me Cassie," she smiled, her face flushing again. "But how do you know who I am?"
"Well, I saw you in the paper yesterday," he said, oblivious to his date, who stood there, fidgeting and annoyed. "The Gotham Times. There was a picture of you and a story about how you were the doctor chosen to oversee the diagnosing of the Joker."
Cassie blinked in surprise, vaguely remembering the press reporter who had caught her on her way out of work on Monday, asking for an interview. "News travels fast," she had thought at the time.
"Oh... oh, right, of course," she said. "That reporter had caught me by surprise."
Bruce chuckled again and said "Well, they tend to do that. It was a fascinating story, nonetheless."
"Well," she started, testing the waters. She didn't want to offend Bruce, knowing he had had a strong, personal connection with the late Rachel Dawes. "The Joker is a fascinating subject.."
Bruce's face turned grave, and his tone was serious.
"Oh, yes. He certainly is."