4th in two days. Hurrah! I'd have posted sooner but is being a jerk and not letting me upload. Enjoy, remember to review and message me. No flames, if you don't like, don't read. Constructive criticism is welcome but constructive only.
Milo wiped the dead man's blood off her face, peering at the features of the corpse as it twisted slowly around, the Joker cackled wildly, wiping the tears of laughter that pricked at the corners of his eyes away.
"You should have seen your face," he howled, a wild grin on his painted face.
Milo stepped forwards, turning the cadaver around slowly so its front faced her. She looked into the face and vomited over the floor.
Wiping her mouth, Milo stood from where she had bent to vomit.
"Trey," she whispered, touching the man's cold face, his skin felt foreign beneath the burnt tips of her fingers.
The Joker laughed harder.
"Trey!" Milo shouted, her hands scrabbling over his bloated face.
The tips of her fingers connected with something inhuman, a thin line running just beneath Trey's chin, Milo hooked her nails beneath it and pulled, Trey's face peeled off like soft wax revealing the face of a pockmarked man below.
"Hmmm," the Joker clucked. "It seems Trey is invincible."
"You bastard," Milo growled, lunging for the Joker's throat.
"Bad kitty," the Joker giggled as he clubbed Milo to the floor. "You'll ruin your makeup, Trey's just fine, he's got the master suite!"
"Trey is here?" Milo asked in disbelief, a muscle in her neck twitching as she ground her teeth together.
"Of course!" the Joker replied, switching to a darker tone. "He stays alive only if you listen to me, one mistake and he dies."
Milo swallowed.
"What if I don't care?"
"You might as well go kill him yourself then," the Joker mused.
Milo stared at the man's painted face, attempting to discern whether he was bluffing or not, he remained emotionless beneath the white pancake makeup on his skin.
"Good girl," the Joker crooned. "Now I want you to get into that limo and do your job."
Milo spat in the Joker's face and pushed around the dead man's body that hung limply by the neck in the doorway, she opened the limousine's door, slipped in and instantly let out a barrage of vulgar language intended for the Joker, but she couldn't say to his face. The limousine rumbled off and Milo watched the Joker take the dead man's hand and wave it after her like a parent does to their child. Milo grimaced.
Once the limousine had turned the corner, Milo reached for the handle to open the door, she pulled it, but the door did not open, she jiggled the handle harder, the door still refused to open. Milo swore bitterly.
A plain, manila envelope lay on the seat next to her, she look at it out of the corner of her eyes and snatched it up off the plush leather, ripping the sealed end open with her teeth and sliding a sheet of paper out. She clutched the paper between her fingers and read the scribbled message, instructions printed clearly in black permanent marker, mocking Milo, she growled deep in her throat.
Doll,
You know what's going on. Don't screw up, you know who depends on you
J
Milo hissed, crumpled the paper between her fingers and hurled it to the floor, this did nothing to satisfy her insatiable rage. She hated that she was attached to Trey, but what would happen if he was killed; the Joker would force her to kill him if she didn't escape, or maybe if she did. Milo was almost positive either way Trey was going to die if she didn't go out on a limb. So she sat back, her foot bobbing up and down as she formulated a plan.
The limousine pulled to a halt, Milo tried the door, this time it opened, she stepped out onto the street, standing before the city's swankiest restaurant as her transportation lurched back into the street, leaving her stranded. The tastefully dressed women stared at Milo with distaste, Milo stared back and the women flinched away, Milo lifted her chin in triumph and entered the restaurant, striding straight towards the man standing behind a small podium in the entrance, what did they call them, Milo wondered, something French she was sure.
"Good evening miss," the man said politely, struggling to keep his gaze from drifting downwards from Milo's face.
"Table 14 please," Milo said, smiling seductively.
"Yes, right this way," the man said, turning away.
Milo had to give him props, he hadn't once looked down at her chest, it was a shame that he would most likely die if she got her way. The man led her through the tastefully lit room and into the back section, divided by heavy, expensive looking draperies.
He gestured towards one particular section and Milo nodded in thanks, pushing back the curtains and entering the space beyond, lit by a dim overhead chandelier and flickering candles. A man sat at the table, his face darkened by shadows.
"Mr. Wayne," Milo said tersely.
Bruce looked up.
"Milo," he grimaced. "You're looking well, please, have a seat."
"Thank you," Milo replied civilly.
"I suppose the Joker's sent you here to give me a message then?" Bruce asked.
"He did," Milo said. "But that's not what I'm going to do."
Bruce waited without speaking.
"I want to cut a deal," Milo whispered, leaning across the table conspiratorially. "The Joker is in…possession of something that is very important to me, as long as he is in possession of it, I cannot disobey him."
Bruce marveled at how incredibly civil Milo could be sometimes.
"What are you offering me," Mr. Wayne asked.
"My undying gratitude and the Joker's head on a stick," Milo said, stabbing her knife into the table for effect.
"I believe we tried a deal such as this before, it didn't work out so well."
Milo held her breath.
"I cannot chance it." Bruce finished.
"You've made your grave, now go lie in it," Milo said, standing to leave. "I have other appointments."
Bruce grasped her wrist. "What was the Joker's message."
"I've just told you," Milo said. "Now let go of my arm."
"You know I can't do that," Bruce replied. "The commissioner wants you almost as badly as he wants the Joker."
Milo giggled. "My, he's certainly the player isn't he?"
Bruce's other hand covered Milo's mouth.
"We're going to see him right now," he said.
"Am I interrupting something?" the man who had directed Milo to Bruce's table asked, peering in.
Bruce let go of Milo as though he'd been electrocuted.
"No," he said. "We're fine thank you."
"A package has arrived for you," the man said, addressing Milo.
"Thank you," Milo said, accepting the package and shoving the knife she had selected from the table through the man's chest.
He collapsed with a gurgle, Bruce bent onto his knees and checked the man's pulse, it beat weakly for a moment and faded into nothing, Bruce let the man fall to the floor as Milo tore open the package that had been handed to her.
She read the note enclosed and pulled out the brightly coloured object from within the crumpled paper, it was a gas mask, she covered her face with it as a hissing filled the room. Bruce turned to stare at her in horror, Milo shrugged and backed up and Bruce's eyes rolled skywards and he dropped to the floor atop the man Milo had killed. She heard similar thudding sounds as people throughout the restaurant also collapsed.
Milo swore into her brightly coloured gas mask, she held it to her face with one hand and bent down, cursing, next to Bruce, the only man that could get her out of the mess she had gotten herself into. He was alive, just barely, Milo sighed, she dragged his body out of the curtained area and hid it away behind another velvet hanging.
She heard music approaching and she pushed her way back into the curtained area that she and Bruce had been in, sitting down and staring with a bored expression across the table. Seconds later, the Joker pushed his way in, followed by Ace who was holding a heavy boombox on his shoulder. Milo stifled a laugh and he glared at her.
The Joker, however, walked straight up to Milo and pulled her to stand and twirled her around until she was dizzy, laughing maniacally before pushing her back down into her chair which she promptly fell out of.
Milo lay on the floor, winded and watching the lights spinning around her, the Joker's face, or rather three, came into view.
"So, my pet?" he asked, hauling her into her chair, Milo shoved him away from her.
The Joker laughed, grabbing Milo's chin in a gloved hand and forcing a sloppy kiss on her mouth, Milo wrapped her hands in his hair and yanked, the Joker's head snapped back and he slapped Milo, laughing quietly under his breath as he rubbed the pain that buzzed under his scalp away.
"He was a no-show," Milo spat. "Why the hell did you think he'd show up anyway?"
"Because he's ol' Batty Boy!" the Joker cackled. "That's what he does, he comes to the rescue, criminal or not."
"Apparently not," Milo growled as she pulled herself upright, holding the edge of the table for support. "Apparently he cares about me just as little as you do."
"Oh, don't be like that doll," the Joker grinned. "I care about you! After all, I'm going to let you see Trey tonight, aren't I? Or I was until you messed up."
"I didn't mess up," Milo shouted. "It's not my fault Bruce Wayne stood me up!"
"He didn't stand you up," the Joker said. "I know that for a fact."
An evil grin crossed the Joker's painted face and Milo paused, unsure of what she should do, give up Bruce and see Trey or keep him hidden and be punished all the same.
This one isn't as good as it should have been, but oh well. What would y'all think if I started a Supernatural fanfic? Anyhow, review for a new chapter!