Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Hardened Criminal
A/N: Well, I do believe this chapter expresses some of the reasons why I find Joker so attractive. I think it's a hoot-and-a-half how much Allegra represents my fandom for Joker...oh wait, it can't be that surprising: I'm writing her character. Oh well! So much for surprising me! At least you kids can have all the fun, yeah? Please review and tell me whatcha think!
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Allegra stood on the roof of a building straight across from the Mayor's office—he was a big shot, so naturally his office was in the highest part of the governing building. It was a sunny afternoon, blinding even, now that the skyscrapers were unable to block the sun; it hardly dodged the clouds any. Allegra gazed down at the height, making a low whistle. She stood on the edge, barefoot, balanced on the narrow level. If she had been clumsy even the slightest, Allegra wouldn't have to worry about sending Brian Douglas to the window across—the entire city would watch her fall to her death.
She leveled herself, balancing with her arms outstretched. Yesterday proved to be eventful: Douglas was dead, carved like a happy-go-lucky scarecrow, make-up drawn perfectly by the Joker himself; the corpse laid on the concrete roof just behind her.
Black slacks and a solid white long-sleeve marked the occasion for a perfect throw. Her heels were cast behind her, near the dead man, lying uselessly as she continued on the balance beam of her life and death's eyes. There was a graceful way she walked on the edge; she was balanced, easily. There was no stumble or fear in her eyes.
Joker arrived shortly, pushing up the hatch that led from the factory to the roof. He made a small grunt, lifting himself to the concrete, and behind him was Darren, who'd come to commemorate the fun-filled moment with them, was dressed ironically in a black tuxedo obviously lifted from the pawn shop just next door.
Darren had become more involved in the happy missions than the other two, who were only there because they'd been 'hired' (Richard was the exception as he'd been kidnapped, really, and Steve was...well, Steve). Darren was eager to partake in anything Joker set up: Murder, kidnapping, or, most recently, the breaking into Judge Surrilo and Commissioner Loeb's houses to get their DNA lifted so as to put them on the card, attached to dead Brian Douglas by Joker. He bent at the waist, hooking it around the noose with a flourish, then straightened. He saw Allegra holding life and death in her hands, balancing on the ridiculously narrow edges of the building.
"What are you up to?" He asked.
"About ten stories," smarted Allegra, smiling cleverly at him.
Joker rolled his eyes, looking at Darren; he gestured to Douglas: "Get him to the edge."
"Sure thing, Boss."
Joker watched Darren heave Douglas to the edge, beside Allegra, who merely looked at the men with a passing glance, unconcerned. She turned on her heel, never losing her balance.
"Aren't you afraid you're gonna fall?" asked Darren uncertainly, stepping away from the edge out of his own paranoia of meeting that kind of quick, nasty end.
Allegra shrugged: "It's not the fall of which you should be deathly afraid, kid." She smiled happily: "It's the sudden fucking stop."
Joker laughed at this, finding it really amusing, evidently.
"What if something startles you?" asked Darren, looking uneasily at her. His hands were stretched out a bit, as though if Allegra were to do as he claimed (startle) then he'd be able to catch her and save her life. But Allegra shrugged.
"We all have to die some place." Allegra remarked carelessly. She glanced at Joker. "Isn't that right, puddin'?"
Joker grimaced (a funny expression on his face), and said with the utmost seriousness: "Don't call me 'Puddin'."
Allegra smirked at him, bouncing off the edge with little care for her safety and stepped towards him (Darren looked relieved). She sauntered towards him.
"Don't like that name, do you?"
"No." Joker stated unhappily; and his voice iterated the only truth that Allegra had ever heard from him. "Call me that again, I'll knock you off the building."
Allegra eyed him curiously, saying lightly, "Guess the other girl should have known better than to stick you with an uncharacteristic pet name." She smiled smugly when Joker sent her an unfathomable expression that was borderline of a curious glance and a glare.
She didn't dwell on it long, not really. Her sheepish grin was a good sign she enjoyed that cringing look of his—he hadn't like the name some woman had given him, maybe someone he'd worked with recently or had in a past, and this made him unhappy. Then again, Allegra called him 'Killer'; it sounded a lot better in comparison to something as childish as 'Puddin'."
Darren looked between them uncertainly; was this playful banter? Was this arguing? Didn't seem to matter as Allegra indicated the dead man.
"Mayor's in a council," she explained. She pointed to the window of the skyscraper exactly opposite of them, maybe a few levels down. "You swing him from here, it should hit home."
"How do you know?" asked Darren, staring at the ridiculous distance between here and there.
Allegra smiled knowingly, but never returned the answer. Joker simply stepped past a confused Darren and threw Douglas over the edge; he swung like a limp Tarzan and right into the Mayor's window; the glass was fucking bullet proof apparently since it didn't shatter it, at least not from where Allegra or the Joker could see. However, it seemed to get an immediate response as within a matter of ten minutes, units were called to the scene, including Maroni's pally pal party.
Darren was told to go back to the house before the whole media became tangent with the happily morbid news to offer to the public. Reluctantly, Darren did as he was told to do, frowning in a way a child would when told he'd have to leave during a great magic show.
Allegra remained on the roof, watching the reporters scurry and the police rope off the scene as they lowered the poor sod down to the ground.
"This is so much fun," Allegra uttered excitedly, watching the newscasters swarm with bombarding questions. "I'm glad I left the mob for this."
"Maroni didn't offer such great adventures?" Joker asked from beside her. She glanced at him; he was watching with a half smile as the media bombarded, raged, and questioned the police of the victim's name, the motive of the kill (naturally, who'd question it if they just looked at the face). Allegra couldn't hear all of it, but the news and media were predictable—they wanted to know too much before it was time to know anything at all.
"Hardly," she answered. "I had a few lovely moments when I could razzle a few people for quick cash, make a point with a club or an iron fist but, that's nothing compared to this." She grinned mischievously. "This is like a playground compared to that. This would have been too public for him."
"The Italian's losing his flair in your eyes, isn't he?"
Allegra furrowed her eyebrows curiously, looking from the lowest of Gotham to see Joker watching her idly. There was an odd fervor in his gaze, something about it set with an uncomfortable pleasure in her stomach, and made her throat hard to swallow. Allegra recognized this expression, but not on his face—the idea of Joker turning out to be the more alpha male compared to Maroni was the look she realized was in his eyes. It was plain: he was pleased she was more impressed with his work than with the work of a mob boss.
She forgot about the media, about the massive overflow of questions, camera flashes, yelling from below. They didn't matter. Allegra stepped towards him with a sort of relaxed gait but her body was wanting him more than ever.
Her insides lit on fire when Joker smirked at her, in a fashion that was smug but very attractive...then again, no matter what expression (angry, threatening, disappointed, pleased, aroused, annoyed, indifferent), she found him attractive. His rough edges made him more appealing to her than ever. And he chuckled, deep in his throat, making her smile with a delight.
"The 'Italian'," she said softly, "has too many rules...codes."
"Mmm." Joker returned, knowing this but liking where this was going. Her hands subconsciously moved to his vest, her fingers nestling underneath it; her eyes were swimming in a deep pool of admiration...something Joker found very pleasing.
"Even if they did have the balls to do this," said Allegra, indicating the commotion below them with a nod of her head but never interrupting her gaze, "they'd wind up in prison two minutes later. They're too afraid, too soft."
She moved closer to him; he kept her against him with his gloves on her lower back, causing her small noticeable shivers of rousing delight when he grazed them under her shirt, on the skin of her body that begged for more access, more petting...more of him.
"The Mob has a lot of connections, Allegra; you shouldn't cast them out so quickly," Joker scorned but the smile on his face declared that he was hardly disappointed with her tone.
"They need connections," Allegra uttered. "You don't. People are afraid of you."
Joker licked his lips, his tongue darting over paint and scars. He found her voice heavy with admiration, the kind of tone a sick, obsessed fanatic would speak to her celebrity idol if ever she met him in person. There was no guessing about her arousal—it was clear in her dilated eyes, the way she was touching him...and her voice. The sultry manipulation had turned into something more lacking in control.
He was enjoying every minute of it.
"Y'know, people are afraid of Batman too," said Joker offhandedly; it was the truth (the mob was part of the people categorized) but he wanted to hear what the desirous little shrew had to say about that. Allegra smiled as though he'd told a joke.
"Batman's a man, dressed in armor of black, hiding the shadows with only his self-righteousness to save him from his suppressed rage." Allegra whispered. "They're afraid of a shadow on the wall, hiding under a bed, hiding in a closet, in a dresser drawer. You don't need a superstition to make people fear you."
She moved her lips to his in one fluid movement that erupted into a rough kiss filled with passion. She cared less his makeup rubbed on her skin, the white on her face, the red on her lips. She smiled at him.
"He's only a man, hiding in the shadows of good intentions but inevitable corruption." She uttered. She grabbed his growing erection in a possessive way that Joker found both amusing and very attractive, and uttered in a voice that was drowned in wanting: "You're a better class of criminal." Her voice expressed any loose desire left when she declared him better than the bottom-feeding thieves she'd once worked with, including her ex-lover, Maroni.
She didn't wait for him to respond; she kissed him again, the same rough force—he returned it with equal response. Joker was always impressed with her direct approach, but never had he seen her so riled. He stopped her though, taking her hand away from him and holding her wrist.
"As much as I love to continue this," Joker responded, grinning at her disappointed look, "I believe we ought to tend to the children. You know how rebellious they get without supervision."
Allegra rolled her eyes.
"Fuck them."
"Well, I can't say I've not heard that kind of parenting before," Joker kidded. He moved his hand to her jaw, holding her still so he kissed her with a rough initial start, cutting it off before Allegra could respond. He enjoyed knowing what he did to her, the kind of frustration that was building inside of that sadistic beauty.
"Family comes first, Bunny," Joker reminded half-seriously. "I'm not worried about Darren; he's a good kid: bright, has a good future ahead of him. His brother's a bad influence." He left her to go to the hatch opening it. He turned to her. "Come along, Allegra."
Painfully suffocating from a build-up of much needed sexual relief, Allegra growled deep in her throat, a noise Joker heard and made him raise his eyebrows at her. Wordlessly, she followed behind him, heels clip-clapping on the roof before descending into the hatch with him.