Deep orange lights filtered through the boarded up windows, signaling evening was well on its way. Soon, darkness would fall over the city and everything that hid during the day would come to life, crawling out from beneath its rock. That's when Gotham's at its liveliest and the scum from the underground would come out to play.

Dark eyes blinked in agitation, squinting from at the sliver of light spearing him right in the face. A growl ripped through his throat with a glare, annoyed from the rays shine that was distracting him. He shifted his chair, moving over a couple of feet without getting up and dragging it along with him. There was too much to do and didn't need any inconveniences at the moment.

He hates inconveniences.

Satisfied with the new position, he glanced down at his watch, before looking back towards the table. There are all sorts of fun little gadgets and toys for him to play with. Guns, knives, bullets, powder, thick thread and needles, cellphones, wires, battery packs... His gloved fingers moved a bloody scalpel out of the way, having no further use of it at the moment. The deed was already done, but it can be used again. No. It will be used again. That was the beauty in blades, with the right amount of imagination, the possibilities were endless.

Along the walls of building were crates and barrels filled with party-favors that would turn every face at the MCU completely white. Diesel, gasoline, and ammonium nitrate, among other things... Each in separate areas and carefully stored, patiently waiting until they are needed. These would be necessary for what he has planned for the lovely city of Gotham. After all, he was only giving them back what they dished out.

Just being in this warehouse was dangerous. All it would take was one wrong move or a henchman to do something foolish, and the entire place could be blown sky-high... That little fact made it more entertaining, especially seeing the morons walking around on eggshells, scared shitless of even picking up a piece of paper from the floor. Sometimes when he notices one of the fidgety ones sauntering by, he'd yell 'Boom' and cackle when they dropped to their knees.

The Joker understood very well the intricacies of explosives and chemicals and knew how to handle them properly. This can't be near that, don't mix these two together, blah, blah, blah. Some of the scars on his chest were from his days spent figuring out how different agents and elements reacted together, toying around and watching things burn, including himself. He's a professional, but these schmucks barely understood what the periodic table is, thinking it's a schedule he drew up or something. That's okay, he likes them dumb. They're easier to control that way.

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, his shifted his feet around, the tip of his shoe tapping against something. Furrowing his brows, he craned his neck back to look under the table. "Ahh..." That bloody apron he tossed on the floor earlier. He almost forgot, not that it really matters. Trying to see how much of a mess he can make is part of the fun, but today is a different story.

He didn't want to waste time getting changed before seeing her again. She doesn't like the metallic smell of blood or when he gets it all over her skin. He doesn't share in that same sentiment. Dark red looks so much more striking and beautiful on her pale skin compared to his. As long as it's not hers. Besides, the entire ordeal usually ends with Sakura stripping off her clothes to take a shower and it gives him a good reason to hop in right behind her. That's a win-win situation in his opinion.

Grabbing a dirty rag from the edge of the table, he wiped the excess blood from his leather gloves. His lip curled up from eyeing the muck, debating whether he should just toss them or not. There are plenty of pairs stored away in the other warehouse, but that's not here. Maybe he should have a special pair in his coat pocket for when he's ready to go home. In this line of work, it was better to have a dozen of everything, because they will be ruined eventually.

A groan coming from across the room made his eye twitch. There he goes again...

"Knock it off... I told ya not to move, Kilson!" One thing that really gets under his skin is having to repeat himself. Don't make him do it. The rules for his men are quite simple. Listen the first time around, do exactly as they're told and don't piss him off. Screwing up the first two usually results in the third being triggered. That's the most important one and everyone here knows it. Most of them have learned from others failures exactly what happens if they're foolish enough to set him off.

The large man on the tarp froze when the Joker glared at him from his seat. He's been suffering for hours now and that was very clear to anyone in the warehouse who can see and hear him, but the clown didn't care. Not about the groans, how pallid his complexion turned, or the profuse sweating. It was because his body was rejecting the surgery performed earlier in the day. "Ya want the voices to go away, don't cha?"

"Y-Yes, Boss..." Kilson slowly nodded, letting his head fall back against the floor. He was doing his best to stifle the noises trying to force their way out. Smart. Everyone knows what happens if they don't listen when the clown tells them to do something...

The ringing from the inside of his pants pocket made the Joker clench his fist around one of the wires, his lips curling up into a snarl. All day it's been nothing but one problem after the other, driving his blood lust to the surface. Right now would've been the perfect time to have Sakura massage his shoulders, but she could never be here. Not with this shitty lot. Last thing he needed was a bunch of starved animals looking at his little bunny like they wanted to tear her apart. They had plenty of hookers to fool around with, but some men wanted a taste of the softer side when they're too accustomed to the same filth all the time. If someone ate chicken everyday and a steamy, tender steak filet is sitting there, they'll be tempted to take a bite. It's just human nature to be curious and try something new.

Something that will get their throats crushed and skull bashed in... If he's in a good mood...

His head rolled along his shoulders, loud cracks coming from the stiff joints in his neck. Didn't they know he was busy? Do they have to bother him with every single little problem? Then again, even a small one can snowball into something huge.

There were only very-very few people who have this number. He constantly switches phones, making sure they're untraceable. This late in the game, it would've been a sin to be that careless. He learned that a long time ago and has seen some people dragged down from overlooking details they deemed trivial. Everything is important and needs to be considered. The Joker wouldn't have gotten this far by being naive and letting the authorities tap a phone or track him with an object that fits in the palm of his hand. Fuck no. That foolishness can stay with the mob and thugs hustling on the streets. Giving a number to the wrong person can end a perfectly good run right when it starts getting fun.

The henchmen in his employment come and go just as often as cellphones. Despite being the puppet master of his own show, Joker understands very well the necessity of having numbers. Having so many men under his dress shoes were a pain, but made things more interesting. They were needed to pull off a job flawlessly, whether it was acting as muscle, camouflage, errand boys, or a distraction for him to make his escape. They were only pawns in his plans, nothing more. Most barely made it for more than a few months working for him. The ones who could keep up were kept around, until they messed up or were deemed useless. Quitting or retirement aren't options with the Joker's employment. They're either taken out in a body bag or don't leave at all. The clown can be a real sucker for macabre decor when things start looking a bit dull.

"Gahhh!" Grabbing the device from his back pocket, he yanked it out, clenching it tightly in his fist. Joker could feel the muscle in his cheek twitch as he stared at it wildly, debating on whether to throw it or not. Recognizing the number, he smacked his lips and tried to calm down, knowing he had to answer it. The guy on the other end was given a very specific job for the day. The only person who's been able to last all these years. If it was anyone else, they would've gotten an earful for interrupting him when he's busy.

"What?!" Joker was impatient, not wanting to waste any extra time if possible. He was running short on it. Time and patience. Rocco knew only to call if something came up or there was a problem. That was the only reason he answered at all. His job today was the most important part out of everything.

"Boss... We have a bit of a problem over here..." His voice sounded urgent and worried, making the clown even more agitated than he already was.

"Why? What's going on?!" That was one of the last things he wanted to hear right now. Everything has been done so meticulously in the hopes that it would all work out according to plan.

"There are three men in the apartment. I can see them through the window from out here..." Joker grit his teeth, seething inside. The beating in his chest quickened as strange sensation hit him straight in the gut. What if the owner is there as well? With those men going through her apartment, trying to find out anything they can about him? Work should have ended a while ago and she more than likely would have gone straight home to wait for him.

No. No. No.

The Joker never panics, that was an emotion that's eluded him for years. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face as scenarios played in front of his vision, each worse than the last. Sakura being all alone in that small apartment with three grown men, threatening her for information, while they tore the place apart. She'd never say anything, which would infuriate them and lead to her being hurt in some way. Beatings, screaming, interrogation, mutilation, rape, arrest, murder... They could do anything to her when she's alone. There's a pistol there for self-defense, but if they took her off guard... He still hasn't shown her how to use it properly... If something happens to her, this entire city will taste his wrath... Even Rocco for not intervening. It doesn't matter how long he's worked under him. A mistake like that wouldn't be forgiven...

Sensing the impending danger from the silence over the phone, the veteran henchman quickly spoke. "Don't worry, Boss! She's not there, hasn't come back yet..."

An internal sigh of relief made the muscles coiling and contracting tightly finally relax. He didn't realize how tense his body became from the thoughts swirling in his mind She wasn't there... The fact that Sakura hasn't come home yet was troublesome, but it was better than if she had.

'Dent? Or Choi?... This is most likely their doing. The Bat would have gone by himself at night and the others are too slow on the uptake to figure anything out on their own. What could he have possibly found that led him there? I was careful with the recording and everything else... How?... That little shit. Just like Jin, he's a real pain in the ass. I'm going to fucking kill him.'

That was going to happen sooner or later anyway, but couldn't it have waited until tomorrow? Even just a few hours from now? Those pesky bastards signed their own death warrants by going in their home. What are they hoping to find? There's nothing in the entire place that could be traced to the clown. He made sure of it after she left for work. Unless, they wanted the pinkette herself for questioning, but isn't three men a little much for one small woman? No, one was probably to deal with her, while the other two searched around. They'll regret ever involving her in this, that's for sure.

"Who is it?" He already had a feeling about who was snooping around, but figured he'd confirm it anyway. The facts are what's important, not assumptions or educated guesses. Being careless wasn't a luxury he can afford, especially now of all times.

"Choi, Nosh, and that Johnson guy. Same ones going around asking a bunch of questions." Of course it was... Who the hell else would be stupid enough to pull something so goddamn reckless?

"Kay..." Rubbing the throbbing muscle against his temples with his gloved fingers, he tried to calm the storm brewing inside. If he was annoyed before, this was cranked up a hundred notches. The urge to smash everything around the warehouse was more than tempting, but he needed to keep a cool head to take care of this. Hearing the small groan from the floor was almost enough to get him to pull his pistol out and shoot the man making the noise. The only thing stopping him was that he needed the toy inside him for later. "Swing by and come get me. Looks like we're gonna have a, ah, litt-le change of plans."

"Yes Boss. We'll be right there... Do ya want me to take them out first?" This was one of the reasons he favored Rocco above the others. Just as obedient and vicious as expected of the Joker's top man. He usually knew what the clown might have in mind and was able to go with the erratic flow. That wasn't something easy to find in the pool of schmucks this city has to offer.

"No. Don't wanna make a mess in her place. I'll get rid of them myself later. Choi deserves a personal touch." A smile tugged at the corners of his scarred mouth. He would be a little more creative with this one compared to his obnoxious brother.

Hyeon would regret sticking his nose where it didn't belong and for trespassing on the Joker's territory. That man had no right going into their apartment or riffling through Sakura's belongings. The image of that scum tearing through the pinkette's drawers and clothing made him snarl in anger. Perhaps he would start with his fingers...

"Gotcha Boss..."

"Tasha?"Bruce tilted his head, raising a brow at the woman sitting across from him.

The pinkette stared out the window of the restaurant, lost in her own thoughts. The name being called didn't even registered in her head, no longer connecting it with herself. It wasn't something that sounded familiar anymore, just foreign now... Tasha Romonov meant nothing, it was just an alias created by the man staring at her. She was Sakura Haruno, the woman who grew up in The Narrows and was the...girlfriend? lover?...of the Joker. It wasn't clear what they actually are to each other. She never asked and he didn't mention it. One more thing she wanted to talk to him about...

Right now, she just wanted to go back to the apartment and hopefully see the person she really wanted to spend time with. It wasn't that Bruce's company was bad or anything, but it wasn't what she needed at the moment. The only reason for agreeing to go out on this little excursion was that it would probably be the last time they could see each other.

Jack told her they would be leaving in the early hours of the morning, when there's less people around that could get in the way. Batman won't be prowling around the streets at that time to try snatching him up or anyone else that might be an issue. Everyone would be gearing up for the impending press conference by then and tonight would be their last ditch effort to bring down the Joker to stop the Bat from revealing himself.

This was the most that Jack's ever told her about anything involving what was going on...

Laying in bed and tangled up in the sheets, he quietly talked about this little bit of information while running his fingers through her hair. The muscles in his chest were so tense beneath her, she could tell he was stressed, despite the confident front he tried to put up. All the pinkette can really do is trust him and do what's needed to be done.

After all, no one plans as carefully and strategically as the Joker. The fact that the entire city was up in arms and unable to find him proved that point. There's still so many unknown variables and details, but she had to believe in him. Even if the world knew him as the 'Clown Prince of Crime', he was still her Jack... Reckless and daring to a fault, yet brilliant enough to pull it off. She didn't know everything about who he became and what's happened since then, but it felt useless to ask. He wouldn't tell her anyway.

"The more you know, the more danger you'll be in. Trust me..."

Sighing, the heavy feeling in her chest wouldn't disperse. The bad vibes resonating through her were putting the pinkette on edge. Just like that time before... Her instincts weren't usually wrong, more so after she started using her ability. Something was telling her that a storm's coming, one that would turn everything upside down. Despite trying to trust the clown's sense of judgement on the matter, she couldn't help feel afraid of what can happen. Does he have enough sense of self-preservation to not put himself in harms way unnecessarily? Doubt it. He's too much of a wild card to care half the time and loves a good thrill.

The idea of being dragged out of Gotham while Jack stays and does God-knows-what is really starting to get to her. What if something bad happens? If he gets hurt and she can't even heal him, because they're so far apart? What if he dies?...

'He can't... He won't... Jack is smarter than that... Right? All these years he's been pulling the same shit, but I just feel this is on a different level.'

The prospect of them becoming separated again just to cause chaos throughout the city felt so incredibly foolish. Does it really mean that much to him? Why is he putting both of them through this? Can't he just be happy with her? Isn't that enough? Maybe it's not, at least for him. It was a hard pill to swallow and he's jamming it down her throat with those gloved fingers. Perhaps she really isn't enough for him to feel satisfied the way he wants. He's kept his two lives separate up to this point, keeping her stowed away like a dirty little secret. Unless it's the other way around and he's the one being hidden from her life.

Either way, this sucks.

All she wants to do is go away with him and live together, like he promised... There isn't a way to stop him from pulling his shit, that is just a fact of this new life that needs to be accepted. If the Joker feels like killing someone, he will. If he wants to blow up a building, it's gone before the sun rises. Regardless, she'll stay by his side and try to heal whatever damage he causes to himself in the process.

Sakura loves him... It couldn't be helped. He was a part or her, always will be. That became obvious in the hospital room that night and painfully clear after the fundraiser. It's not like she can just forget about him again and move on to a 'normal' life. A small piece of her knows that there isn't another man that could make her feel this way. The pinkette's tried to deny it to herself many times, but she likes the excitement and danger he poses. His carefree attitude, the way he talks, the weird quirks, his vicious and possessive nature, his strength and rough ways in bed...

That isn't what she enjoys most though. No. It's the gentle caresses when he's calm, how he runs his fingers through her hair, the little things he does to make sure she's taken care of, the rare occasions when he's feeling generous and opens up a bit at a time, and most of all, the way he looks at her. Whenever she notices those dark eyes staring, it just does something to her. Actions always speak louder than words could ever hope to. The past, present, and future. No matter what form it takes, he'll always be apart of her life. Perhaps there is something seriously wrong with her.

Maybe there always was...

Despite knowing that he just slaughtered someone when he came thundering through the apartment, she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his waist, just happy he returned in one piece. He's kicked in the door and cut her clothes off with a blade, running his filthy gloves all over her body and she let him... Even with the smell of iron and gunpowder clinging to him.

The Joker has stained her pale skin with his own blood, covered her in soot, torn her clothes off in so many different ways... He's dug his teeth into her flesh, biting down hard enough to make her scream, rakes his dirty nails all over her skin and leave red trails everywhere they go, and has broke through a few layers. He's caused so many bruises with his harsh grip, tugging and yanking on the long pink locks between his fingers. There's no hesitation in wrapping those large hands around her slender neck and pinning her down, taking her viciously like he's some kind of feral, wild animal, while he grunts and roars. Maybe he is a beast in the form of a man. Always so ferocious and bloodthirsty, waiting for the chance to lunge out to kill something or push her down harder against the mattress. And here she is...coming back for seconds.

Even though it sounds screwed up when it's listed out like that, she finds it pleasurable. It's not like he goes out of his way to hurt her or has done anything unforgivable. If something really doesn't feel good, she doesn't hesitate on making it known. Jack stops whatever he's doing and switches it up, trying not to repeat the same mistake. That is his way of showing he cares, without saying a word. He's strong enough that he could force her to do anything disgusting act his mind comes up with, but hasn't forced her to do anything she makes very clear she doesn't want.

Aside from their history, the things he does that are so contradictory to what the public perceives him as, drew her in even deeper. How he plays with her hair, clinging and wrapping his limbs around her while they slept, practically smothering the pinkette in the process, his gentle touch and desperate kisses... The way his dark eyes constantly watched and observed her, always paying attention to the finest details. Sometimes he knew she was pissed or annoyed about something, before it even dawned on her that she felt that way.

"I know you better than you know yourself... Literally!"

There was no denying that. Jack knew the previous life she lived from start up to the night that changed everything. There were memories in his head that were still lost to her and even though many have returned, the blank spaces were numerous...

Looking outside, she closed her eyes and tried to let herself relax. It was hard forcing herself to ignore the horrid feeling in her gut...

"Tasha... Are you okay?" Blinking rapidly, it finally registered that someone was talking to her. Tearing away from the calming view outside the window, her eyes shifted towards the voice breaking the little trance she fell into. The pinkette gave off a practiced smile towards the man sitting across the table.

"Sorry... I'm just feeling a bit tired. Haven't been getting much sleep lately.." It was only half of a lie. Things weren't okay, but it was true that sleep's been hard to come by these days. From spending the last week together, it was obvious that Jack's an insomniac. Whenever she would wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink or use the bathroom, he was always sitting there, staring at her or the wall. Since she was already up, he'd want her to give him attention and would annoy her by moving around or tugging on a strand of hair until she did. When he was finally satisfied, he'd let her curl up next to him, knowing his body heat would lull her back to sleep.

'He's such a pain in the ass...'

Part of her was surprised by the impromptu request to take a walk and grab a bite to eat with Bruce. What did it hurt? This would probably be the last time they could see each other again. Besides, Jack said he was going to be busy late into the night, making preparations and doing whatever he does. When she gets home, she'll have to pack a few things she wants to keep, just enough to fit into a backpack or something. Traveling light is the best bet to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

Despite Bruce being the one who moved her from Gotham years ago, she knew it was probably done with good intentions. It did cause quite the heartache when her memories resurfaced, but nothing can be done about it now. It's too late, the damage has already been inflicted and can't be reversed. His words and actions show that he cares for her, but he was still a large factor in separating her and Jack from each other.

Sakura felt partially guilty that he was about to have a small taste of his own medicine. After tonight, she'll be gone without any word or an explanation. No one who knew her would have any clue as to where or why she disappeared. That's what Jack went through when Bruce had sent her out of the city. The memories from waking up were normally fuzzy at best, but sometimes they were crystal clear. Those were the only ones she wanted to stay away.

They mostly came in the late hours of night, when her body was exhausted and mind could no longer stay active on will power alone. It was always a wonder how the Joker can keep going on such little sleep, like he possessed an inhuman supply of energy. Those sparse and random moments he did rest, she was never sure if he really was out of it or was just feigning, until she went under herself. It was during those times that images would show themselves in broken pieces. Sometimes it was just voices of people echoing through the darkness, or short, silent scenes with mouths moving. A few faces were recognizable from past clips and others meant absolutely nothing.

It came and went as fast as it started. Each time only a small part would resurface, making her try to put them together to figure out what was being said as a whole. Every time the pinkette thought she was getting somewhere or close to finishing the picture, a pair of hands would violently rip her out of the Morpheus' hold and take her into their own.

Dark eyes would stare down wildly, while his rough hands gripped her shoulders hard. Sakura was always startled at the sight, breathing hard and lost in confusion. It was frustrating being so close to finding out more, only to be shaken awake by the man watching her sleep.

"You were mumbling weird shit...and that's coming from me..."

"Hey. Hey! Eyes on me...That's right... C'mere. I'll make ya feel better..."

"Ya know, it's hard to sleep when you're making that face. I'm, ah, gonna smash that TV of yours if that shit's givin' ya nightmares."

It always felt better not to be alone anymore. The memories weren't the most important thing, even if they told the story of what happened. Losing them in the past was right where it was meant to be-in the past. What's crucial is already here and that's more than enough.

"You do look tired. I'll drive you home, it's starting to get dark out." Bruce picked up his glass from the table, finishing the rest in one go.

Sakura glanced to the side again, wistfully taking in their surrounding. Unlike when she did this before, the Joker shouldn't blow up any bridges when she tries to leave. Hopefully. The shades of orange burned bright as the sun started dipping closer to the horizon. The scene from window was spectacular, giving a grand view of the city. They were on the fifteenth floor of this building, the perfect height to see all of Gotham from where they sat.

"Thanks, but you don't worry about it. I'm going to walk home, there's a few things I need to do anyway." That was a lie, but there was no way she was going to let him drop her off outside of the apartment building in case Jack happened to be there. It would only anger him to see her getting out of another man's car.

"I insist... A woman shouldn't be walking around these streets with how crazy everything is now." The vein in her forehead throbbed at the words the he chose.

'A woman shouldn't?'

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm not a moron, I know perfectly well what's going on out there." The bite in her tone was obvious, leaving no room for argument. She didn't want a ride home or anything from him right now. Seeing her resolve and agitation, Bruce sighed as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Do you? Okay, okay... Don't make that face, haha. I wasn't trying to offend you." Bruce sat there uncomfortably, shifting in his seat, watching her green eyes narrowed in on him. Clearing his throat, he waved the waiter over to ask for the bill.

"Well?!" Rocco tried his best not to jump out of his skin at the loud growl coming from the man pacing back and forth across the floor.

"Not there either, Boss..." A chair was kicked towards the wall, it's leg breaking off from the impact. The men standing around flinched, holding their breaths and trying to keep a safe, healthy distance away from their Boss, hoping to hold on to their lives a bit longer.

"Get your thumbs out of your asses and find her! Unless ya wanna be decorations for the warehouse? Hmm?! The walls are lookin' a little bare these days!" Joker yelled into the phone on speaker, too angry to hold it up to his ear.

A knife twirled between his gloved fingers, a habit he does when he's agitated. Something of the newer men haven't picked up on, only seeing it as a the Boss itching to kill one of them... Not that it was really far off. Being in his service for years now, Rocco noticed quite a few erratic quirks his employer has and knows the best ways to not end up at the tip of that blade.

For the most part anyway...

When the Boss has that tone, everyone knows not to say or do anything, unless told otherwise. Any fast movements or interruption could end whatever short career they had going for them in this line of business.

It's been six years since he started working for the Boss. Six very long years... When Rocco first met him, it was before all the greasepaint and vibrant-colored clothing and hair. Those days were rough, but every year that's flown by has only gotten worse. Men came and went quicker than anyone could imagine. They always had to be on their toes and listen very carefully. One wrong move or talking out of line and any one of them can easily end up on the floor, clutching a slit throat, or worse.

Usually worse...

Rocco glanced over towards the large man lying on the tarp, groaning. He was holding his stomach, trying not to bring anymore unwanted attention to himself. The guy was a mess, dripping in sweat and as pale as a fish's underbelly. There was no saving him at this point, even if anyone wanted to. The Boss wouldn't have it. They would only take the man's place and have the same done to them.

'Dumbass Kilson...'

The poor sap didn't even realize what the Boss did to him. Not that he was all there anyway, the guy was completely fucked in the head. Even if the Joker hadn't convinced him to let him operate, there wasn't a choice in the matter, whether he realized it or not. That's part of the game, convincing someone they want the Boss to do what he wants to them, making it seem like it was their decision. All part of his manipulative nature that enjoys toying with people's minds. By telling him the voices would go away if he listened to directions, it stopped Kilson from messing with the incision or doing something stupid that might ruin the plans.

The last thing they needed was for that messed up schizophrenic to try opening up the wound and sending the whole warehouse sky-high. Just the thought of it had Rocco on edge... If anything, the Boss should've tied him up, but sometimes it seems he likes the thrill of putting everything on the line. He has more knowledge about explosives than anyone in the underground, so maybe he knows nothing will happen, until he wants it to.

That was one of the frightening things about the Joker. Everything worked on his time and the way he wanted it. Plans always go off without a hitch and none of the henchmen ever knew what was going to happen. No one was in the loop or had a say... It was always the Boss that controlled all variables down to the smallest details. Everyone plays to his tune and he always held the puppeteer strings tightly around his gloved fingers.

"Fuck!" Joker growled out, gripping the cellphone hard enough the screen threatened to crack under the pressure.

It wasn't exactly clear what the Boss wanted with this woman, but Rocco couldn't help feeling sorry for her. He's seen her twice so far and it was a miracle she's even still in one piece. Is she the daughter of a mob boss? Maybe an associate of someone? A woman he slept with on a whim? Doubt that. A person he wants to ransom off or use as leverage in an upcoming plan? It was all so confusing, but the clown isn't the kind of man to let any of them in on it. She didn't seem like the type to dabble in the underground, but looks could be deceiving...

"Anyone touches the, ah, pink haired chick...ya die." That's all the Boss said before they entered the building where the fundraiser was being held. Everyone look at each other from behind their clown masks in confusion. They didn't know what the hell he was talking about, but had enough brains not to question his words.

It wasn't until Rocco walked through the rows guests to rip their masks off, that he understood what the Boss meant. There really was a woman with pink hair and she was beautiful. 'Stunning' might be a better word to use when he thinks about it. He's thought he's seen it all and some. The underground has every variety a man could imagine with their dirty little minds, so he couldn't imagine anything that could actually take him off guard at this point. This chick... He didn't even know they can be made like that. It was such a stark contrast to their boss in every way. Maybe that's why he's interested?

A sigh from one of the men made everyone freeze on the spot. Why anyone would make a sound when the Boss is this livid was beyond his comprehension. Never, ever piss him off, especially when there's a blade in his hand. That's just asking for it. If someone sees an angry bear in the woods, tearing trees out by the roots, the last thing they should do is try to get its attention. Doesn't matter if all the ruckus is getting on their nerves, leave it alone until it moves on to something else.

Dropping the knife onto the table with a thud, the room was dead silent, except for the nervous breaths the men tried to hold in when the Joker turned on his heel. Dark eyes stared around wildly as his head cocked to the side, looking in the direction of the group the noise came from.

Rocco silently thanked whatever God there is that he had decided to stand by the boarded up window. with some of the older guys. He didn't want to be close to anyone dumb or new enough to cause a problem. Another trick he picked up throughout the years from experience. There was only one big problem... Even if he wasn't with those fools, that didn't mean they were safe. This could still turn into a bloodbath if the clown decides they're all useless.

The corner of the Bosses mouth twitched, his long arms swaying while looking around. This was one of the worse parts. The build-up before the storm, not knowing when or how he'll ash out. All that was certain is that something will happen. Taking a few steps forward, the longer scar on the one side that curved into a twisted half smile, jumped as the muscles in his face moved.

"Well. Well. Well..." Striding up to a handful of the men that stood ramrod straight, he walked past each one, leaning in too close for comfort and peering into their faces. "Someone have something they'd like to say?" No one was dumb enough to utter a word. He was in one of his moods and there wasn't a single man in this building, new or otherwise, who wanted to play the games the boss had in mind. That temper of his was truly something to be feared. If it wasn't the erratic behavior that terrified everyone, it was the way he toyed with his food before taking a bite.

After making his way down the row, he spun on his heel of his dress shoe, stopping in front of a short, dark-haired man. "Hmm? Danny?" Joker's head turned to the side, his faded green hair falling against the white greasepaint smeared on his face. "Wanna say somethin'? Am I bothering you? Does my cursing offend those, ah, precious ears of yours?" The henchmen looked on, some with a slight sneer, others too afraid to even look in their direction.

"N-No...Boss." Danny stuttered, not daring to look into the Joker's eyes. If Rocco wasn't scared of the consequences, he would have laughed. Danny always had the cockiest attitude out of the flood of new guys that just came in. Bragging and blowing any money he made on booze and prostitutes. To others in the streets, it seemed too wild and dangerous to work for the Joker. Most of the men employed were seen as either brave or completely mental.

"N-No? No?!" Joker moved closer, dark eyes wide while he mocked the henchman. Danny took a step back and a gloved hand lashed out, grabbing the back of his neck to making sure he couldn't go anywhere. Usually these type of guys fell on their instincts to either run or became too scared to move a muscle. Clearly this one was of the former.

"At-ta-ta-ta... Where ya think you're goin'?" A smile spread across his scarred mouth, speaking in the sing-song voice that's always followed up by something terrible.

The phone on the table started to ring, making the Boss's eyes widened. Letting go of the man, he turned away to rush towards the sound, seemingly distracted and finding the call of more importance than the fool who irritated him. Danny sighed in relief, letting his shoulders drop an inch with a small laugh. A cellphone gave him a reprieve and took the clown's attention away for the time being. The men standing around him quickly moved away, not wanting to be in the same vicinity as any moron that angered the Joker. They could easily get swept away in the wave of violence when it came.

Rocco watched the Boss carefully, knowing better than to take his eyes off him. When he reached the table, a hand slid into one of the pockets of his trench coat, while the other snagged the phone. Shaking his head, the veteran henchman would have said a small prayer for the stupid boy if he actually cared.

The laughing came to an abrupt stop when a bullet pierced Danny's skull, spraying anyone close enough with blood. His eyes were wide in shock as he stumbled back, dropping onto his knees. Blood ran down his face and open mouth, dripping along the front of his shirt. Rocco knew that expression on the guy's face all too well. It's when someone didn't realize what just happened. He's seen it enough over the years to recognize it right away. When the Boss doesn't intend on drawing out the kill, he likes to let them think they have a chance. That way they put their guard down and don't expect what's coming next. Murder isn't about death itself with him. No... It's the journey the clown relishes in, not the destination.

It was so fast that none of the other men even noticed a gun was pulled out, until it was too late. The only one who did was Rocco... He's worked for the Joker long enough to know that a phone call, no matter how important it is, wouldn't make him forget about someone's indiscretions towards him.

Tapping hard in the buttons in agitation, the Boss pursed his lips, growling out angrily. He was still seething and high from the kill that he was having a problem with the phone. All he probably saw was black and red, instead of the green symbol to answer it. No one as dumb enough to offer to help, especially when there's a smoking gun in his grasp. If they didn't, he might still shoot them if he misses the call. What a dilemma...

'What do I do? Fuck... I don't feel like getting shot today.'

"What?!" A collective quiet sigh of relief went around the room when the Boss finally answered the call, holding the phone to his ear, too annoyed to bother putting it on speaker. Picking the knife up from the surface of the table, he started twirling it between his fingers again. His brows furrowed, shifting his head to the side, listening to the muffled voice on the other end.

"Oh, goodie. Go to 2nd and Treemont and wait 'till we get there." Without another word, he hung up the phone. A smile spread across his ruined mouth while his dark eyes watched the blade moving gracefully around his gloved digits.

"Alright, boys... Time to get your asses to work."

"Dammit..." The soles of her feet were aching from the heels she's been wearing far longer than she would have liked. Normally by this time, the pinkette would've been home and kicked these little bastards off a while ago. From her memories, Sakura recalled that she never liked wearing something like this and still doesn't. It seemed necessary for the formal attire that was expected at Wayne Enterprises. Unlike the other women employed throughout the building, her heels were always much smaller in comparison, but they're still a nuisance. These days, she barely even cared about any of that. It just seems so meaningless.

'I think Jack's rubbing off on me more than I realized.'

It doesn't matter.. After today, she wouldn't be taking another step through those doors if everything goes as planned. Just the thought of it was making her stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. What's going to happen? How? What about after she's out of the city?

Too many questions and absolutely no answers...

It was frustrating how Jack won't tell her barely anything, but she can understand his reasoning, even if it's annoying. He wants her to trust his judgement and not to interfere. It's because he's going to do something that might get him killed and doesn't her freaking out over it. If anyone could change his mind or try to sway him onto a different course, it's her and they both know it. Besides the lack of information keeping her safe, that was another big reason not to let her in on his plans. The Joker doesn't want Sakura ruining what he's resolved to do for years.

"Hahh..." Pinching the bridge of her nose, the pinkette couldn't help worrying about him. She frets over him more than she does herself. The point of taking her out of Gotham was to keep her safe...meaning whatever Joker was planning is dangerous enough that he doesn't even want her in the vicinity. The scenarios playing out in her mind made the weight on her shoulders feel heavier with every terrible image.

Sakura grimaced from the pressure on the soles of her feet. Every step along the pavement was starting to make her wince as she passed another block, trying to rush home. She was going to end up with blisters from hell from these bad boys. Would it be any better to kick them off and scurry back barefoot?

'First world problems... I'm being a baby. There's people who can't even afford shoes, let alone complain about them.'

Turning the next corner, she slowed down to a stop. Her brows furrowed at the sight on the street, feeling something was...off. The pinkette usually wouldn't take this way home, but it was the easiest route back to the apartment complex from the restaurant. The street was full of row homes, the area being more residential, unlike the last few blocks that were packed to the brim with businesses and stores. That wasn't what struck her as odd though. It was the small row of vans and trucks lined up along the curb with large men carrying crates from inside two of the homes and loading them up.

A feeling in her gut told Sakura just to turn around and get the hell out of there. Sometimes, instincts were all that a person's left with and curiosity didn't seem too friendly right about now. This was a very unusual sight, especially for this part of Gotham. These men were preparing to transport something and she didn't care to find out what it might be. Drugs? Weapons? All of the above? It was definitely not just someone moving out.

"Let's go, sweetheart." A deep voice spoke from behind, making her twirl around in surprise. Two men were standing there, towering far above her head as they looked down at her curiously.

'Who the hell are these guys?'

Was she in trouble for seeing them moving their shipment? Glancing around nervously, there wasn't a soul outside on the block, besides the men dealing with their cargo. Should she make a run for it? With the heels and how sore her feet are, they'll catch her in no time. This was bad...and she forgot Jack's pistol back in the apartment in a rush to get to work.

'Shit. Shit. Shit! What should I do now? If there was only one, I might've been able to kick him in the balls and take off...'

"C'mon!" A bald man grabbed her roughly, yanking hard and dragging her towards the vans. Panic set in as she flailed, trying to get out of his hold. "Knock it the fuck off!" The harsh grip tightened when he tugged, almost pulling her arm out of its socket. Sakura yelled, trying to dig her heels into the crack of the sidewalk to get some leverage, but he was much stronger and the ripped right off her feet. She stumbled, falling onto her knees and making the man more irate. "Keep it up and you're gonna get it!"

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" A large guy barreled towards them, hissing and looking at them in disbelief. It sounded like he was trying not to be too loud, turning his head around with a worried expression. Sakura's eyes widened, recognizing him right away from the terrible Misfits tattoo on his neck. She got up on her feet, almost surprised enough to see him that she stopped paying any mind to the man holding her.

"Y-You!" His gray eyes widened, glancing back towards the vans in a panic. The last time they ran into each other was in The Narrows when he was piss-drunk and harassing her, until he saw the pink locks from under her hood...

'These are the Joker's men...'

A part of her relaxed despite their appearances, knowing that if they were trying to take her somewhere, it was on his orders. The man's face paled for a second and his words from back then ran through her head... The way he was practically pleading with her not tell his Boss that he'd been haggling her, even if he was drunk. That's what she got from it when she ran through the words later that day. He kept saying there wasn't a problem and that he was leaving, knowing if she told on him, he'd be worse than dead meat. Jack wouldn't have cared what state he was in.

Stalking towards the bald man, he ripped the hand away that held her arm in a vice grip. Sakura jumped when he suddenly slapped the man hard across the face, making him stumble over. A small smile graced her lips watching the fat head get his just desserts. If the Joker saw what he did... Oh boy, would he get it. The pinkette moved the limb around experimentally, annoyed at the way he was tugging her around like a rag doll. Not only that, but the shoes she couldn't stand were now ruined... Laying forgotten on the sidewalk with one of the heels broken off.

"Are you fucking stupid or somethin'? What the hell are ya doin'?" 'Mistfits' growled out low at the two men through clenched teeth, visibly enraged. His face was turning red and a trickle of sweat trailed from his forehead. "You tryin' to get us all killed?" Looking around again, his lips pursed together with a frantic look etched into his rough features.

"No... We-" The baldy stuttered through his words, barely able to get them out. It must have dawned on him what kind of consequences his actions can have.

"Just fucking forget it. Ya better watch yourselves..." The gray-eyed man motioned with his hand for her to follow him. "Come with me, please." Shifting from one bare foot to the other against the hard ground, the pinkette bit her bottom lip feeling uneasy about all of this. Why wouldn't Jack just come and get her himself? Seeing that she wasn't moving and her apprehension, the man turned back with a look of pleading in his eyes. "He's waiting for you..."

With a sigh, Sakura reluctantly followed him as the two men walked closely behind her.

'Do they think I might make a run for it?'

Walking passed a few of the vans, she took a peek at some of the men loading up the crates. Each one of them looked rugged and dangerous in their own way. If it wasn't the expressions on their faces as they moved, it was the prison tattoos visible from where the sleeves of their jumpsuits were rolled up. Some looked younger than her, with a shaved baby face, but appearances can easily be deceiving. Others looked like they just crawled out from under some rock in hell, scars and markings on their faces and necks.

'What an ominous bunch...'

Padding across the hard ground, Sakura became more nervous the further they went, walking alongside the beat-up vans. Stepping in between the henchmen going back and forth while they worked, she couldn't help wondering why the plans changed so suddenly... Did something happen? Then again, the Joker was known for doing things on a whim...

Going past one of the vans, a gloved hand reached out from behind one of the open back doors, wrapping itself around her mouth when she tried to scream. The pinkette froze as an arm wrapped around her midsection, pulling her into the back, before she even knew what was happening.

"Sh. Shh. Shhh!" Green eyes opened wide when Sakura felt herself being lift up off the pavement and yanked backwards onto a tarp in the back of the van. Fingers scratched at the purple leather glove held against her mouth, breathing harshly from her nose as the man dragged her further in. He held the pinkette tightly against him, so she'd stop trying to get away. Leaning back to glance at the man roughly tugging on her around, she grabbed at the exposed wrist just below where the glove ended, wanting him to let go already.

Joker was staring down at her wildly, dark eyes pitch-black in the shadows of the van. The white greasepaint was cracked and missing in some places where the muscles in his face creased up around his cheeks and forehead. The red paint on his lips and scars were just as erratically drawn as ever. He smiled, looking far more menacing in this lightning than she'd ever seen before.

"Uh... Hi..." The words were drawn out as he licked his bottom lip, making her finally relax at the sight of the clown. She was safe in here with him, even if he was as rough as the men outside. Relief bloomed in her chest, wanting to throw herself at him. Despite being with Jack this morning, she already missed his presence and now they were together again.

The only thing that could ruin this was some bad news. Hopefully that's not why he was here.