Of Madmen, Misfits & Everything In Between

Pairing: Joker/OC

Rating: K+

Warnings: I'm a sailor. I swear. A lot. Sometimes.

A/N: Time lapse time. Again. Anyway, I'm sorry about not updating for a full week and a half. I've been quite busy studying. It's pop quiz week apparently. I'll be back by mid- week. Probably squeeze in a chapter tomorrow. I don't know. Feel free to drop by my tumblr at nordicdreamsndutchthings. Also, I drew a rough anime version of Misha during economics today. Do you guys want to see it? Cheers!

Chapter Eleven- The Talk.

The school year was at a close and the people of Gotham were rejoicing the fact that the Joker had not been seen in months. Jack seemed least bothered about that, Misha thought one day as she returned home from uni. It was the last day of university and despite popular demand that she and Jack go out with Iona and Carlisle for the night, she had decided against it.

She needed a rest. It had been a tremendously tedious year and there was still so much she had to come into terms with.

Like the fact that she had just recently sold all of her family business and associated things to Wayne Enterprises. She didn't quite understand how it happened. Apparently Mr Wayne's assistant or someone had been keeping a close eye on them. Fox somebody was his name but really, Misha could not care less. She had better things to do.

She was exhausted and a night out would not be good for her tonight. She had three whole months to go out.

Besides, she had to talk to Jack. And boy, was she nervous about it!

He had been living with her for over six months now and he was fully healed by now. As part of their initial conversation- or verbal contract as it was in her mind anyway- he had to leave the moment he had recovered. He'd recovered a few weeks back -or was it months? wondered her scattered brain- and, well, had yet to move out. A few months ago, she would have been furious at this proposition. She might have even called the cops or somehow thrown him out. But now, Misha knew the man behind the Joker. And, to what she assumed would be the horror of many, many civilians of Gotham (not that they'd know anyway but still), she quite liked him.

Jack Napier was an incredible man.

And maybe- just maybe, she wasn't sure- she liked him. She didn't know why though. She was not, after all, good with positive feelings directed towards people. People often left her feeling disgusted, disappointed or feeling plain out angry. And Jack did the exact opposite. Of course, he frustrated her, caused her to break down, be emotional- something which she hated so very completely. But at the same time he made her feel important, as though her opinions and thoughts were actually relevant- why, he'd even been there with her throughout her horrible family reunion.

To be honest, she didn't quite know how to bring it up.

She was quite worried about it. What if he reacted badly and reverted back into the crazy psycho clown everyone knew him for?

Misha reckoned she'd hide her make up supplies before talking to him.

And exactly when do I do that? she thought as she neared her apartment building.

Dinner had always been the perfect time to discuss things with Jack but somehow she felt that this was a topic that was better not left for that. After all, she had every mind to make something special tonight and she really didn't want dinner to be ruined because of that. She really didn't know what to expect.

Jack greeted her like he usually did when she returned.

"What's up?" she asked him, setting her book bag on the kitchen counter.

He was smiling for some reason and it was then that she realized that that made his scars look even more pronounced.

"Because I'm happy," Jack responded like any normal human would do and somehow, the next thing Misha knew, they were both sitting on her couch in front of the telly.

Apparently Jack had some good news to share. He began speaking but Misha was not really listening to him. She was getting more and more intrigued by the scar. She realized that she had never properly inspected them. She wondered if he'd stuck a razor into his mouth or if it was a knife. She decided on the former as the knife might have cut his tongue off if he wasn't careful- which, from knowing him, she knew he was not very often.

And so, with that her curiosity peaked and before she knew what she was doing, the words were out. "Really Jack, not to be rude or anything but how did you get these scars?"

Jack was in the middle of something really enthusiastic, his hands had been all over the place when he realized what she'd said and froze. He remained so for a good few minutes before turning to face her completely.

"What?" he asked her, bewildered.

Misha blinked.

Now, she wasn't expecting that.

She was expecting rage and anger and blunt hatred, not the amazed shock Jack was exhibiting.

"Your scars," she repeated rather sheepishly. "How'd you get them?"

Jack made the world's most oblivious face before looking heavenwards, thinking real hard, his index finger tapping his chin dramatically. Misha rolled her eyes. He wasn't going to tell her. He was going to tell her some weird story and then laugh at her for believing it.

"Honestly," he finally admitted, "I don't know."

She frowned. What?

"How can you not know?" she asked.

"I don't remember," he shrugged.

Misha eyed him sceptically.

"No really," he added, "I don't remember. I have a bad memory."

And that's about the time Misha lost it. She started laughing really, really hard and Jack looked utterly unamused.

"How can," she asked between giggles, "you have a bad memory?"

I do!" he snapped. "I have a bad case of bad memory."

"Of course you do," she humoured him.

"No really," he said once more seriously and Misha simply toned down her laughter by shrugging.

"I kind of find that hard to believe," she admitted.

"I know," he agreed, "but it's the truth. Everything since before the Joker is extremely blurry. I mean, I do have a vague idea but the details are missing."

That piqued Misha's interests.

"What?"

"Yes," he went on, "I mean, I know that I was some kind of a chemical engineer or scientist or fond of explosives because I know more about them than I'd ever be bothered to read. I know I've sort of always wanted to be a comedian, hence the persona."

"Real creative," Misha scoffed and he gave her an exaggerated glare.

"It's very creative," he insisted.

"Oh yeah, totally." She didn't even bother to hide the sarcasm.

"Misha!"

"Go on."

"Fine," he gave in, "I remember getting married though."

That made her stop for a moment.

Misha stared at him wide-eyed. "You're married?"

He gave her a meaningful glance but she chose to ignore that.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, suddenly very alarmed. After all, who was this Mrs Joker? Was Gotham about to face the wrath of his wife due to his disappearance? More importantly, was she fantasizing about a married man? She was practically a home wrecker!

"Oh don't worry," he waved it off, "I don't even know what she looks like-"Lie. Lie. Lie."-Besides, she died a long time ago. To be honest, I don't even remember much of how she was."

Misha was quiet after that, stunned at the news. It baffled her how he could be so casual about it. But then, death seemed to follow the Joker. Maybe it was all very normal to him?

"You must remember something," she said after a while.

Jack frowned. "Why're you interested all of a sudden?" he asked her playfully.

She stopped at that, taking offence to his words. "Nothing," she mumbled, "I was just curious."

He said nothing to that which was fine by her. She really had no idea what to do.


It had been two days since the conversation and Misha had yet to talk to him about the moving ordeal. Although she did not exactly want him to move out, she reckoned that she, at the very least, wanted to know where they stood. He was becoming something of a room mate now.

But how to bring it up?

She didn't want to sound as though she was tired of him, she just wanted to know.

She hated not knowing about things like these.

So, after much debate and thinking up a hundred different scenarios, she decided to finally gather the courage to talk to him.

"Jack," she called from the hallway. Usually he would be in the sitting room reading a book from her bookshelf. It was quite funny though because he'd often complain about how he couldn't be bothered with reading.

"What?" he asked her, making his way towards her.

"We need to talk," she said before retiring to her bedroom. Jack followed her.

"Okay," he stressed the syllables. "What do you wanna talk about?"

Misha took a deep breath before speaking. She really had no idea how to go about it.

"Do you remember what I told you when you first starting living with me?" she asked slowly.

"Mmm- hmm," he nodded.

"Well, I wanted to talk about that," she admitted.

He raised a brow. "You want me to leave?"

Dammit, why he was so quick at picking up things like this? she thought.

"No! No, no, no," she quickly intersected. "I just... I just wanted you to know that, you could go... if you wanted to, like I don't mind or anything." She stared at her lap as she said so. God, this sounded more awkward than it was supposed to be! Why, oh why, did she go ahead with this? He'd think that she wanted to get rid of him! She didn't-

"Hey," he interrupted her thoughts. Misha said nothing. "Stop thinking," he told her.

"Huh?"

"You're thinking," he went on, "I can practically see your brain working. Relax."

"I am relaxing," she argued.

"And I believe you," he added sarcastically.

She groaned.

"I don't think that you're trying to kick me out if that's what's bothering you," he said.

She sighed. "Good, because that's not what I wanted you to think."

He grinned at her.

"But," she want on, "I would like to know where we stand." She didn't know where this was coming from but she decided that she'd be the bold one in this case. The question was completely out of the blue.

"Where we stand?" For someone who was incredibly quick about a few things, Jack was ridiculously slow when it came to others.

"Yeah," she mumbled. Her moment of confidence had, unfortunately, been lost. If Jack didn't pick up what she meant then this would get immensely awkward.

"We're... friends I guess," he mused. Yup, he did the thing.

This was officially awkward.

Misha could feel the beginnings of a blush raising. Why was he playing dumb? He ought to get this by now!

She decided to meet his gaze and confront him about the issue directly instead of beating about the bush. When she did, she found him grinning at her.

"What?" she asked him. He better not find this funny!

And that's exactly what he did.

Jack Napier began to laugh.

Misha could have killed him at that moment.

"You think this is funny?" she demanded angrily as the man guffawed. "Jack!"

He controlled himself a little before saying, "Really, what's there to say about us?"

She found herself quiet at that.

"You're heating up," he pointed out as her face reddened.

"I know," she said through gritted teeth. "You know, I thought-"

He silenced her once more with a kiss.