He pulled her out into a long narrow hallway lit by one flickering light bulb overhead. He stepped down onto a landing. The stairs were metal with wide open slots. He stared down at the stairs for a moment then he turned toward her and eyeballed the black heels she wore on her feet.

"Hmm. That's a, uh, problem," he murmured looking up at her face. "Come here. You're going for a ride with me."

She looked at the stairs and then smiled at him as she walked towards him. He motioned his purple gloved hands for her to come closer to him. He reached his arms out towards her and lifted her to him almost effortlessly. He leaned her top half over his shoulder holding one hand tightly to her back securing her against him. His other arm wrapped around her legs below her butt. He heard her let out a small giggle and as he started down the stairs with her he laughed a little too. "Later, Angel. Later."

They reached the end of the stairs all too soon. He gently set her down on the floor in front of him. In the almost complete darkness she could still see his bright white face in front of hers. She could still see the whites of his dark eyes looking at her and she could still make out the grin on his face before he grabbed hold of her hand again.

"I know its dark," he was walking off now, slowing his pace a little as he tugged her along. "Just, uh, stay close to me. They'll be out front waiting for me. Course they, uh, they won't be expecting you so just keep quiet and I'll handle it. You have to stay close to me. Think you can handle this? You, uh, you can turn around now, y'know? You don't have to go."

She squeezed his hand. "I think I can handle this. Besides, I'd never make it back up those fucking stairs if I could even find them in this darkness. I'm ready, Jack. I'll stay close to you. It's not that hard."

"Oh, and another thing," he whirled around to face her, his breath falling on her face. "Don't ever call me that in front of anyone. Understand?"

She nodded at him and saluted him with one hand, even though she was pretty sure he couldn't even see her doing it. "Yes sir, Mr. Joker."

"Cute, Angel, but uh, not funny. This isn't a joke. Behave. Your uh, your life and probably mine depend on that."

She squeezed his hand again. "Would you please stop worrying? I'll be good. It's ok. I promise."

He turned back around and started leading her towards a metal garage door. He opened it almost halfway. The glow of the street lamps outside poured in through the open door. "Now I know you're, uh, flexible. Just follow me."

His tall lanky figure crouched down and rolled outside in one swift movement. She saw his tattered brown shoes peeking out from the other side, tapping against the ground impatiently. She eyed the space between the ground and the door warily. She was trying to think about how she was going to fit through when she saw his knees on the ground and his hand came through the opening, searching for hers. "Come on. Just take my hand, Angel. We gotta go! Now. Come on."

She grabbed onto his hand and crouched down. She was going to roll herself out, but his other hand came through and rolled her out to face him, holding her against him on the cold ground. He grinned for a moment at her and then turned serious, talking fast. "There's a, uh, bounty on my head. Some asshole who, uh, didn't quite like me and my ideas too much. So...well y'see I'm, uh, I'm going to collect on that bounty tonight."

He stood up suddenly and pulled her up with him. He lifted one leg and set his foot on the handle of the garage door before stomping the door shut. He bent quickly and secured it with a lock. He grabbed her by the hand about to walk off with her towards the dark SUV that sat parked in front of them on the street. The back door closest to them was open with no lights on inside and no headlights either.

"No. Wait," she tugged on him pulling him back against her. She searched into his eyes. "If the bounty's on you how can you coll…"

"Trust. Me," he replied firmly. "Keep quiet. Come on."

He pulled her towards the open car door, stopping right outside of it. He placed his hand on her back and slightly pushed at her. He whispered through clenched teeth. "Get. In."

She carefully ducked inside of the car and slid over, leaving him room. She could feel multiple pairs of eyes on her. It made her skin crawl and she was more than relieved when he swiftly slid into the car beside her and slammed the door shut. He hit the back of the seat in front of him hard.

"What the hell are you waiting for, huh? Christmas? Drive. Now!"

The ignition turned and the car set off in motion down the abandoned alley. She didn't even bother to look out the tinted windows. She kept her eyes on him. He stared straight ahead for a little while until one of the pairs of eyes in the front passenger seat spoke after clearing his throat. She watched Jack's eyes slowly narrow at the man.

"Boss," the man spoke nervously. "She wasn't part of the plan. Should we really be taking her along? I mean is that a good idea? Who is she?"

She watched as Jack's lips curled up into a sickening smile that was more like a snarl. He laughed, bouncing in his seat as he reached into his coat. Oh shit. This wasn't Jack anymore, this was Joker. She watched him suddenly lunge forward grabbing the man's neck with his hands. She could hear the material of his gloves squeaking as he tightened his grip on the man. "Well…Uh, Steve, right?"

The man spoke in barely a whisper. "Y…yes, sir."

"Well…y'see, Steve…" he spoke calmly to the man before he plunged his knife straight into his throat. Now he was yelling so deep that it actually sent chills through her body. "It's none of your fucking business!"

He wiped the knife clean on the back of the chair, holding it out still, spinning it slowly around in his hand as he spoke to rest of the men in the car. "Anymore of you assholes got any, uh, more stupid fucking questions like good ole Steve up there? Hm? No? Good."

He slid his knife back into his coat. He ran his fingers through his hair and cracked his neck trying to keep his eyes fixed in front of him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see her reaction right now. He wasn't sure how he would react to her reaction at this point. He figured she would probably be sitting there wide-eyed and frozen with disgust and fear. He couldn't trust himself to be ok with that right now. But he had to know. Fuck. He hated that he just had to shift his eyes over to her.

She watched him put his knife back into his coat. She was suddenly reminded of her old cat she had had when she was a little girl. He was a wild black and white cat that stayed outdoors because her parents couldn't stand the sight of the poor thing. Actually, most people couldn't stand the sight of him because he wasn't cute and cuddly like most cats were, but there was just something about the cat that she loved. He had matted fur, was missing fur in several places, and had quite a few ugly battle wounds including one missing leg. She called him Herman. When Herman was around her he was nothing but purrs and love. He would come running to her and would instantly flop over onto his side purring up a storm as she would gladly stroke his furry white belly. Sometimes though, she would sit outside on her swing and she would see Herman with another cat. He would suddenly curl his lips back, baring his fierce teeth to the other cat. His eyes would turn black and wide as he arched his back and growled a deep threatening growl at the other cat. Then he would suddenly lunge forward and attack the other cat at a blindingly fast speed, biting and clawing away at the other cat, not caring about the pain and damage he was inflicting. Then just like that, Herman would stand surveying the bloody beaten mess he had left the other cat in and he would cover his teeth back up, straighten out his back, and would come running back to her. She used to think that Herman was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that he had some kind of monster in him that would come out sometimes, but he always had that purring loving side to him.

She glanced at the front passenger seat. Steve sat motionless and covered in his own blood. Just like that. That's all it had taken. One simple question and a man's life was gone in seconds with the flick of Joker's knife. He made it look so simple, so easy. It was. She knew that all to well.

She turned her gaze away from Steve's. What's done was done. She knew this is what she'd see tonight. She knew this is who Jack…who Joker was. He was a killer. She knew that. So what? So was she. Who was she to discriminate? Who was she to care?

She swallowed hard and turned her gaze to him. He was still staring straight ahead, working the muscles in his jaw and licking his lips, his gloved hands rested stiffly on his knees. He turned his gaze suddenly to her. His eyes bore into hers. She supposed he had been expecting her to look afraid of maybe disgusted. She wasn't. She should be, but she wasn't. She stared back at him. No. Those still weren't the eyes of someone she could hate or run from. Ever. She was still staring into the dark, complicated eyes of the man she had fallen in love. She knew in that instant that he could probably slaughter a hundred people right in front of her tonight and she would still love him. She didn't have to like it, the killing, but she could accept it. She could live with it if it meant keeping him. This was all just part of who he was.

He expected to see fear in her eyes for the first time when he glanced at her. Oh, Angel. He was looking right back into the same blue eyes she always looked at him with, no trace of fear. Part of him wanted to be happy about that and part of him still wanted to put fear into those beautiful fucking eyes. Either way, the night was still young.

"This is the place right?" the driver spoke suddenly.

Jack turned his head to look out the window. She turned her head too. They were in a shady district of Gotham. This is the part of the city she would never even drive through. The place looked like some sort of a bar or club, but it looked closed.

"This is it," he finally replied. "Pull over there and, uh, turn the headlights off."

The driver did exactly as he was told. They were parked on the opposite side of the street, down far enough that whoever was in the building wouldn't be able to see them, but close enough, she supposed, that a quick getaway would be achievable.

He reached his hand back behind him. "The bags?"

She watched curiously as one of the shady looking men behind her handed him several large black garbage bags. What the hell could he possibly need those for? Money?

He looked at her for a moment with the bags still in his hands, before he spoke. "Gonna need your help. Have to, uh, put the body in the bags."

She looked warily up front at Steve, cringing. She heard the other men in the car laugh slightly. Now she didn't care if killing is what he had to do, but she hadn't been mentally prepared to help with the clean up.

"What?" she sounded so weak and she knew it. She hated that. "What body? Him?"

She felt his gloved hand cup her face and turn her gently towards him. He was close enough to her now that he could whisper just audible enough for her to hear. "Not him, sweetness. No. Me. Bounty's on me, Angel."

He felt her stiffen and heard her swallow hard before hissing through clenched teeth, "What the fuck are you talking about?! Are you asking me to kill you again? Because how many times do I have to tell you no! How could you even think…?"

He pressed his thumb against her lips before she could finish. "Shh, shh, shhh. Didn't say I wanted you to kill me, Angel. I just need you to, uh, help me put these bags on so my men here can deliver my body to the, uh, stupid fuck in there."

She shook her head. She had no idea what any of this even meant. "Why? No! I'm not doing this. I don't understand. This is fucking craz…"

He growled, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, please? Just do what I say. All you have to do is drape them on me. I'm not asking you to uh, shove my dead body or anybody else's for that matter into these bags. I'm just staging an illusion here, Angel."

She looked into his eyes as he looked back into hers. She couldn't help thinking what if this was the last time she got to look at him alive? She suddenly deeply regretted going on this stupid fucking errand with him. She nodded at him and reached her hand out for the bags. He placed them in her hand and smiled.

"Now," he spoke up so everyone else could hear him. "The plan is the same, but uh, just a couple of minor tweaks. Just carry me in and deliver me to him. Take care of any, uh, guards I'm sure he'll have and leave him to me. Just, uh, just follow my lead. Now about the girl here," he looked to the driver who was looking back with dark beady eyes through the rearview mirror. "You take her in and, uh, she acts as a hostage. Stage it as such. Do not let her out of your fucking sight. Oh, and if you harm one fucking hair on her head I'll kill you so fast you won't even see it coming. Got it?"

The man in the driver's seat nodded cautiously. "Mmmhmm."

She watched as he stared ahead at the man's reflection. He didn't smile and he didn't laugh. He simply stared at him. It brought new meaning to the phrase, "If looks could kill." She supposed this was his silent way of putting fear into the man as she watched the driver begin to squirm and twitch uncomfortably. His eyes darted away from the mirror.

"Good," he was turned to her now. "Cover me up, sweetness."

She looked at him for a long moment before nodding at him. She heard the others busying themselves with loading their guns. She moved so that she was kneeling on the floor of the car in front of their seats. She poked a hole in the top of the bag with her hand, stretching it out. She reached out and bent his head down, sliding the bag over the front of him with his head sticking out the hole she had made. He smiled at her as he lay down on the seat and she fanned another bag out on top of his legs, covering all of him except his head.

She caught him staring at her and she locked gazes with him. She didn't want to stop looking at him. She felt wrong doing this. It felt like she was setting him up for his own death, like she was somehow going to be responsible for his death if something happened to him. She shuddered at the thought.

He couldn't stop looking at her. The way she looked in that dress, kneeling down like that. Fuck. It was taking everything in his power not to forget about all of this and have sex with her right here. He knew he couldn't. He had to do his job. Why the hell did she look so…scared? Was she scared? She was looking at him differently, almost like she wouldn't see him again. Maybe she was already planning on running. Maybe this was too much for her. Or was she scared of something else? Oh my god. Could she actually be scared that something would happen to him? Oh, what a woman. His well being was the last thing she needed to worry about.

"The last bag," he whispered. "Trust me, Angeline."

She sighed heavily as she nodded at him. She choked back a lump in her throat as she held the last bag above his head. She paused to stroke her thumb along his scars before she covered up his head with the last bag. It was taking everything she had in her to not break down crying looking down at him like that. It scared the shit out of her. So scared that she was almost glad he couldn't see her right now.

He heard her whisper to him, "I love you."

He licked at his lips and cleared his throat before he set the order. "Showtime, boys! Let's go before I fucking suffocate!"

The next thing she knew the men behind her and the driver were out of the car and had the door next to her open. She felt two cold, sweaty hands grab onto her arms and pull her out of the car. The same hands held her in place as she watched several other men grab hold of him. They pulled him out and started carrying him towards the club, careful to keep the bags on him while he was careful to lie perfectly still. Someone shut the door as the man holding onto her tugged on her arm hard, pulling her along with the other men. Her heart was beating fast and she felt hot tears starting to stream down her face. Well, at least she looked the part of a hostage now.

"It's all right," the man whispered to her. "I won't touch you. Can't. Just can't. Boss would kill me. He's got such a temper. You got nothing to worry about while he's alive, you know? Well, except him getting mad at you. Don't piss him off. You definitely shouldn't do that. That's bad. Always bad. You'll want to stay on his good side. Get on his bad side and, well, you might end up like Steve back there. Of course if he dies….well. Then you've got some problems. Maybe I'd be a problem then. So maybe you should stay on my good side too. Just in case. You know I'm pretty crazy myself."

She shifted her eyes away from the man she loved being carried away to look up at the driver. In the light of the street lamps she could see his dark eyes and messy, stringy black hair hanging in his face. He had a smile plastered to his face and a kind of nervous twitch. He made little high-pitched choking laugh-like noises along with his twitches. Crazy was the fucking understatement of the year.

"Thanks, uh," she hesitated. "Sorry, but I didn't really get any names. I'll keep all of that in mind, though."

"Schiff," he replied between hiccup-like laughs. "Thomas Schiff. Just call me Schiff, though. Boss calls me Schiff. I like Schiff. Much better. Schiff is much better than Thomas, really. I never liked Thomas. I like Schiff, though. Do you? Do you like Schiff?"

She averted her eyes away from Schiff and zeroed her gaze back on Jack. She nodded. "Oh, uh, yeah. Schiff is a great name."

They were at the doors now and her heart rate sped back up. Not because Schiff had placed a cold pistol against the skin of her face for show, but because she just didn't like the thought of something going wrong with this plan. She needed this to be over. Needed him to be ok. Needed to be in his arms again. Needed all of him.

Two men answered the door. Their gazes fell straight to Jack's lanky body covered by those bags. "What the fuck is this shit?"

One of the men, who happened to be holding Jack's upper body, spoke, smiling. "Delivery for Mr. Gambol."

One of the men who had answered the door pulled a gun out and aimed it them. "Is this a fucking joke, nut job? Huh?"

"No, not a joke. More like…Joke-er. Word on the street is Gambol's offering a reward for the Joker, dead or alive. See, we've killed the Joker and we just want our reward. That's all."

The man holding the gun nodded, looking for a moment at the bag. He turned his attention to Angeline, pointing his gun to her and Schiff instead. "What's that all about, then?"

Schiff's grip tightened as he let out a few more hiccup-like laughs. "Not to worry. Nope. She's mine. Killed the Joker. Gotta celebrate. What better way than to take a woman? Hmm?"

She cringed and shuddered. She was breathing in short gasps and felt a few hot tears streaming down her face again. If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't know how much of this was her putting on a show and how much was her real fears for Jack.

The man lowered his gun and nodded. "Whatever. This way, then."

The men opened the doors and she watched as Jack was carried in. He was doing a great job at not moving and playing dead. Only what was his plan now? Oh god. What if it didn't work? No, he was strong. He was smart. It had to work. He knew what he was doing. Still, she couldn't help but worry as Schiff tugged her along with him inside the building. The room they were standing in was an empty bar with an adjacent room with a pool table.

"Wait here," Gambol's men held their hands up as the men carrying Jack came to a halt.

"Looks like we're in luck. Lots of seats. I like seats. Good view for the show, too," Schiff murmured, laughing into her ear.

She saw a large black man in a suit look up from the pool table and walk forward as his men entered the room. His own men came out and took Jack into Gambol's room themselves, laying him on the pool table. Jack's men looked around the room, probably searching it for more guards or any other signs of trouble. Gambol looked like trouble and she felt her heart quicken even more when she saw the look on his face. It was clear he was very pleased to have the "body" of the Joker. It was obvious this man hated him and would be more than thrilled to thoroughly dispose of the Joker and this made her…unbelievably angry. She wanted him to die. She actually wanted Jack…no, Joker, to get up and kill this man. Oh god.

"Come on," Schiff whispered, tugging at her. "Have a seat. I won't bite. It'll be over soon."

Schiff had sat down on one of the many large bar stools outside of the game room. They were out of the view for the men in the other room, but they could see clearly into the room. She refused to sit, especially in his disgusting lap, so she stood with his arms wrapped around her waist. He was securing her from running into the other room and offing Gambol herself.

She watched helplessly, plotting in her mind a way to break free of Schiff and run to Jack's aid if the need should arise. Anger surged through her like she'd never felt before as Gambol tore the bag off Jack's face. He lay there motionless, his eyes closed. She wanted to fucking strangle Gambol as he smiled approvingly down at what he thought was the body of the Joker. She wanted to kill him, to wipe that fucking smug look off his face as he turned away from the "body."

She didn't have to want anymore. In a split second Jack…Joker had sprung up, knife in hand, behind Gambol and had him in a strong hold. He then had Gambol turned around to face him, the blade of his knife stuck inside Gambol's mouth. Joker's men had Gambol's men down on their knees with guns pointed to their heads. She actually felt goose bumps and not from fear. She was actually happy to see Joker wiping that smug look off of Gambol's face.

She watched still as Joker began to tell Gambol about his scars. She was reminded of the first time she had met him in the vault when he told her a similar story and she had laughed at him, not believing a word he had said. Was this something he always used? Like a joke? If so, what was the punch line?

"Why so serious?" Joker turned his gaze innocently to one of Gamobol's terrified men and slid his knife effortlessly across Gambol's mouth, carving all the way to his ear as Gambol dropped to the floor bleeding, unconscious, and dying.

There it was. That was the punch line; death. This should have been the same punch line she had received, but it wasn't. Now, here she was in this bar, being restrained by a bumbling lunatic, watching the man she loved carve the face of another man like a fucking pumpkin. Funny how fate worked. Funny that she was smiling as Gambol lay bleeding to death on the floor. Funny that she couldn't wait to be in the arms of the man who had just slaughtered two people with a simple flick of his wrist and a sharp knife.

She jolted out of her train of thought when she heard a loud snap. Joker stood staring at two halves of a broken pool cue. He threw one to the ground in front of Gambol's horrified men.

Finally he was walking towards the door, towards her. She heard him utter to the men, "Make it fast."

She squirmed in Schiff's grasp until he let her go as Joker…Jack strode into the room, his gaze falling immediately to hers. She ran over to him and immediately threw her arms around him, tears streaming down her face. He lifted her up off the ground, holding her to him, her chin resting on his shoulder, her cheek against his neck, as he briskly walked out the door behind Schiff.

"Why are you crying, Angel?" he mused. "Did I finally scare you? Huh?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then why are you uh, gripping onto me for dear life instead of running the fuck away from me?"

"Because you didn't scare me. The thought of losing you scared me. The thought of something going wrong. God, you should have fucking told me the whole plan! I had no idea what was going on! That was ridiculou…"

He cut her off, laughing slightly. "So, uh, you weren't scared by me slaughtering a man in there, but you were scared because you thought something might happen to me? Really? Angel, you're fucking crazy."

He set her back down on her feet outside of the car now and looked into her eyes. He couldn't believe it. She was still standing here with him after all of that. He didn't know whether to be happy or pissed.

"Maybe I am crazy. You know I was happy you killed him."

He looked at her, shocked. "Happy? That I killed him?"

"He hated you. The way he looked when he saw you…when he thought you were dead. I wanted to kill him myself, but you beat me to it. That bastard deserved it."

He grinned wide at her as he opened the car door. "You're right. That bastard did deserve it. Y'know, you're sounding more and more like a regular old psychopath, Angel. It's, uh, making me kind of horny, actually. Get in."

She climbed inside the car as he swiftly slid in next to her, closing the door. He kissed her slow and hard. When she opened her eyes for a brief moment, she caught sight of Schiff's eyes looking through the mirror. She broke the kiss off, looking around the car; realizing Schiff was the only other one with them. "Not here. Where are the others? What's going on?"

He shrugged, trailing kisses down along her neck and shoulders, murmuring into her skin. "They're judging the tryouts. I told them to uh, make it fast so we could get back to our, uh, business back home. Should be back out any moment now. At least they better be. Or I'll kill all of them for making me wait."

She moaned at his kisses, desperately trying to contain herself since she could still see that pervert Schiff watching them. "Tryouts?"

He laughed, skimming his lips along her cleavage. "Didn't think I'd let his men skip home and live happily ever after, did you? No, no, Angel. That just wouldn't be me, wouldn't be as much fun. I am a, uh, fair man, though. I'm willing to let one of them live and join my ranks. See, with Steve's unfortunate passing, I've only got one spot open and I'm just not good at making on the spot decisions like that. So, well, they get to decide for me. May the uh, best man win and all that shit."

"Ah," she replied, running her fingers through his hair as he trailed kisses and nipped at her cleavage. "Seems pretty fair."

He was looking at her face now. It wasn't fair how good she looked in that dress, that's for sure. How perfectly it showed off her amazing boobs. No. It wasn't fair how fucking badly he wanted her right now. Wasn't fair at all that he had to wait.

She gazed back at him, tired of feeling Schiff's gaze on her; she laid her head down on his lap, still looking up at him. She could hear his breathing quicken at first and then become more controlled. He rested one hand on her waist, rubbing her gently with his thumb and holding her there.

Suddenly the doors opened and the remaining men piled into the back. There was no new team member with them. Jack smiled a half grin, simply asking. "All that time and no winner?"

"They refused to fight each other so we killed them both,"

"Aw what a pity. Such a waste. Drive. I need to get home. Now."

He looked down into her face as she looked back up at him. The car started and they were off towards home again. Whether it was good or bad that she still lay in his arms looking up at him like that, he didn't know. Come to think of it, he didn't care anymore about whether this was right or wrong. There wasn't much else he could do to fight the inevitable anymore. Maybe it was time he finally accept the truth too. She was his and he…he wanted her. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his life.

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A BRIEF NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR- To all who have been reading this story first off I thank you so much for your continued interest and sticking with it. I hope this chapter will keep you continuing to come back. I must also apologize that this one took me quite a bit longer to get out than it usually takes me. I've had a busy and semi-stressful couple of weeks. If you will bare with me, I promise you I will continue to keep writing this story, because it's something I have loved doing and will continue to love doing, but it may take me a bit longer to get each chapter coming out for a little while. There's a lot of stuff coming up in my life and some family/friend issues have arisen that may keep me from writing as much as I normally do and would like to. Again, this doesn't mean I'm stopping writing with this story, it just means it may take longer than a week or two for there to be any updates (this doesn't mean I'm planning on going a month or several months without updating, I promise it won't be that bad). I hope that if you're still with me in this story that you'll continue to hang on until the end. I'll take you to the end, I promise. Again, thank you to all who have read and enjoyed this story that I have IMMENSELY enjoyed writing. Everyone take care and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as I was quite fond of it myself. Feel free to drop me a review or a message as I will be sure to get back to you. Thank you again and everyone take care!

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Disclaimer- I do not own the characters, guys. Wish I did, but I don't. Credit goes to all responsible for the already established characters (DC Comics, Nolan, Warner Bros....etc). However, Angeline is mine. I don't say this with every chapter, but it's always implied.