Disclaimer: I do not own Batman in any way (comics, movies, shows, books etc.) or any of the characters. I only own Juliet.

11. Queen of Hearts

Evening was settling in and Juliet was exhaustedly relaxing on her couch. Alfred had popped off to the store to grab some things and Rachel had long since left, her very presence absent the moment Juliet returned from the press conference; Bruce had dropped her off and headed back to the Batbunker, preparing for whatever the rest of the evening held. Much like the previous day, she was on edge, but she was absolutely exhausted. Her eyes were cast out across the cityscape watching the lights flick on in all of the buildings as the sun slipped beyond the horizon.

Juliet rubbed at her thigh, feeling the bulk of her bandaging beneath the leg of her jeans. She was thankful she was healing fast, but wished the process would go faster. Shifting uncomfortably, she placed a hand over her eyes, blocking her view of the city that was laid out before her. Oh, the stress she'd been feeling… Juliet had gone from worrying about Bruce's fate to worrying what fresh hell he'd be dragging himself into that evening. With a groan, she rolled onto her side and curled up on the couch cushions, watching as the city dropped into night-mode. Juliet's eyes fell to a soft focus, not staring at anything in particular as she lay there, trying not to think of anything more than she had to. Tugging her phone out of her pocket, she began to mindlessly flip through pictures the architects rebuilding Wayne Manor had sent her earlier that day. The building was nearing completion and it looked remarkably like the original manor. After scrolling through picture after picture, Juliet let her hand hang off the edge of the couch, eyelids beginning to droop shut.

What must have been a ten or so minutes later, Juliet woke with a start, her phone having hit the floor with a clatter. She inhaled sharply and sat up, looking around in a panic; caution was something she needed to taken more and more with each passing day. She heard a clatter in the kitchen. Tiredly standing up, Juliet made her way towards the sound, a yawn dropping her mouth open.

"Alfred? You don't have to make dinner, I can do it tonight," she said as she rubbed a hand over her now aching leg. Looked like she could use some more pain meds… Wincing as she began to limp, she rolled her neck to get a crick out of it. "How is everything out there? I can't imagine what Harvey's actions at the press conference did to the city…" Her brows creased when there was another clatter, but no answer. Alfred took pride in being punctual in his responses, even if it was what she or Bruce didn't want to hear; so his lack of response… concerned her. "Alfred…?"

When she rounded the corner to her kitchen, a sense of cold dread washed through her body and she felt her brows pull together and her mouth drop open in horror. A man stood in the kitchen, but it certainly wasn't Alfred. The man turned and revealed the red, black, and white painted face of the Joker, who was happily munching on some of the muffins that had been made that morning. He smiled at her broadly with crumbs tumbling from his lips, a hand swinging upwards to wave at her in a cheery sort of greeting.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just admiring the lovely handiwork you've done with these de-lectable muffins," he complimented, dropping the rest of the half-devoured food item onto the once spotless floor. Juliet began backing up, eyes locked on him as he stepped forward, wiping off his gloved hands. "Don't look so scared, Mrs. Wayne. It's only little old me-uh; and we both know that I wouldn't hurt a f-ly… unless said fly… provokes me. So why don't we have a nice chat and––" His words were cut-off mid sentence as Juliet grabbed a bowl off of one of the counters and hurled it at him. The Joker ducked and the ceramic piece shattered against the wall. As he straightened up again, he pushed hair back with one hand while he flicked out his switch-blade with the other. He waggled it at her, letting the light dance dangerously along the blade. "Now, now, now… What did I say about provocation?"

Juliet turned and ran, making a break for the front room and the elevator. There was no chance she could make it up the stairs, to the safe-room with the state her leg was in; each step she ran caused her limp to intensify, slowing her down as she tried to ignore the feeling of stitches ripping. She skid to a horrified stop, however, when she spotted Gary, the officer who had been guarding the elevator downstairs. He was lying in a pool of blood just outside of the doors to the lift. The corners of his mouth were sliced into a cruel grin and his eyes stared blankly and hazily before him; blood bloomed in the center of his chest and one thing became horribly apparent. He was dead.

"Oh, my god…"

Suddenly she received flashes of a night so many months ago where she had been alone, at home, and been attacked by a mad-man. The entire situation was déja-vu of the worst kind, and she felt panic settling in. Gone was the discipline that she and Bruce had been working on; it was replaced with horror and a creeping feeling of helplessness. Turning to run towards the stairs, the challenge be damned, she moved all of her weight onto her injured leg. Unable to take the sudden shift, Juliet collapsed to the white tiled floor with a thwack, groaning as she landed in a heap. Looking up, she watched a pair of shiny dress-shoes come her way. The Joker was sauntering towards her––that was the only way to describe his walk. A saunter. With a determined grunt, Juliet pushed herself up and began to limp towards the stairs as quickly as she could, grabbing onto the couch arm for support as she passed it.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…" the Joker tutted, lunging forward and grabbing her around the waist. A scream left her lips as he dragged her forward, his gloved hand pressing hard into her hip. "C'mere." Yanking her upright and spinning her around, the Joker pulled and then held her against his chest, one arm sitting tightly around her midsection while the other crossed over her chest so he could hold her jaw in his hand, the blade of his knife pressed against her cheek. "There you go, there you go… Now just look at this bea-utiful view… how lucky you are… You must never get used to this view, you lucky girl!" She heard him lick his lips noisily by her ear, making her wince and shut her eyes. "Look at it!" He shook her when he realized her eyes had fallen shut. Complying, she stared dead ahead and tried to keep her face clear of emotion.

"You see, was that so hard?" he hummed. "I just wanna talk. Just some nice… common conversation. You know, I'm quite partial to the nickname you've been given: the Qu-een of Hearts. You see, you and I are just two cards in the same deck."

"Like hell we are," Juliet spat, struggling in his grasp. Moving his hand ever-so-slightly, the Joker let the tip of his knife pierce the skin of her cheek, enjoying watching the way she flinched. She stopped moving as the blade wandered lower, skimming towards her neck.

"I know so much about you… you once wanted to study the 'mad,' the 'insane.' Wanted to know what made… them… tick. But, you see, you have be a little ca-razy to want to do that, now, wouldn't you?" He giggled and adjusted his hold on her, smacking his lips again. "You're just like me… just like the rest of us…"

"Why are you here?" Juliet spat, a spurt of defiance flaring up in her chest. He spun her around then, moving to hold her in the same manner he had done at the fundraiser party. Ducking his head, the Joker made sure he could hold eye-contact with her. Their eyes met easily and he watched fear dance behind a confident gleam that Juliet was forcing herself to hold onto. His tongue flicked out over his lips, wetting the painted skin while he wiggled his head from side to side, giggling as he did so.

"Now you're asking the, uh, the right questions," he said in a low voice. "You know, it took me a day or two, but I finally figured out who you are… Phoenix." Juliet's face slackened and the Joker giggled at the look of fear that suddenly appeared in her eyes. "How does darling Bruce Wayne feel about having to share you with the Batman?" He growled out the last bit, feeling giddy as she tensed up. "Hm? I would certainly be, uh… be jealous."

"Is that why you're here? Are you going to finish what you started at the fundraiser?" she asked in a voice that began to shake. There was no use in trying to deny what he'd deduced; he would see it in her eyes and she'd be dead in a minute.

The Joker sighed in impatience and shook his head, thin green locks of hair falling into his face. Oh, how mundane the mind could be… even the smartest of people seemed to forget their intelligence when they were scared; and sometimes that disappointed him.

"No, no, no… I'm not here to confront you, or kill you… yet… that would be no fun at all. Be a bit more…" He waggled his head from side-to-side again, looking about the expensive penthouse, grasping for the correct word. "Imaginative. I would have thought you would be more creative. You just seem like that kind of girl," he told her, twisting his wrist sharply so she was forced to look out the wall of windows. The blade of his knife was stuck into the corner of her mouth in a threatening manner, daring her not to answer. Blinking rapidly as her heart pounded and her leg stung and bled again, Juliet forced out a sigh. Realization hit her like a freight train, making her chest ache as she realized the only other possible reason he had for showing up.

"I'm bait."

"Oh, yes, we fi-nally have a winner!" He let out a loud laugh and he jumped up and down a few times, jostling the knife slightly. "You see, since it appears you've stolen the heart of our wonderful Bats, I would think he'd do anything to get his fiery birdy back. You know, you've also stolen the hearts of Gotham. I don't think the city would be too happy if one of their top law-abiding citizens suddenly, and oh-so-tragically…" His face went dead, all emotion leaving it. "Died." The Joker yanked her closer, his face mere inches from hers. His dark brown eyes stared into her shining blue ones; she was trying to be brave, but he could see her resolve slipping.

"It would be a pity if someone like you had to die. Like I said at the party, you know, when we first met… you're beautiful," the Joker told her, skimming the tip of his knife from the corner of her mouth to trace along her cheekbone. The blade nicked her skin, sending a small drop of blood oozing down her cheek. It created a trail that slid down at an angle, vaguely but eerily mimicking the red smile painted on her captor's face. He laughed and swiftly pressed a kiss to her cheek, grease paint smearing her pale skin. "Why so serious?"

Laughing loudly, his hand clamped over her nose and mouth, cutting off her air supply. Eyes widening, Juliet yanked at his hand desperately, the edges of her vision darkening. He watched her with a darkly amused face as she struggled, watching as she got weaker and weaker, eventually slumping forward into unconsciousness with her head hitting his chest. Muttering some shushes, the Joker lowered her to the ground and pocketed his knife, tugging a radio out in the weapon's stead. Holding it up to his mouth the looked up towards the ceiling as he pressed the talk button.

"Bring the truck around; I've just clipped the bird's wings."

Afterword: So, it's been a while, and I apologize for that; I also apologize for the length of the chapter, but I figured something was better than nothing.

The reason that I've not updated this story in so long is the fact that I was struggling a lot with where I wanted to take this story. Initially, when I started writing, I'd had no intention of Juliet becoming a superhero in any sense of the word; so, therefore, I've found it hard to fit her persona as the Phoenix into the story. I love all of the ideas you all have and wish I could put them all in… but I finally decided I need to stick with my guns and keep on the path that I have planned for this story, even if it means the Phoenix doesn't show up nearly as much as I wish I could put her in. I hope that isn't disappointing, but I do have a lot of stuff planned that I hope you'll all like.

For the purposes of getting this up, I'm not gonna have the chance to reply to all of the reviews from last chapter, but thank you to everyone who did review and add this to favorites/follows.

Also, I was wondering (I'll put a poll up) about whether or not any of you would like to see me do a story based off the TV show GOTHAM (which I've just caught up on). It would be a story with an OC for either Oswald Cobblepot or Edward Nygma (maybe both if everyone likes the ideas).

Thank you again, everyone, I really hope that this chapter isn't disappointing :)

~Mary