Disclaimer:I do not own any of the Batman Begins/Dark Knight characters. All other characters are mine.
Sorry for the late update, thank you so much to the reviews I did get from the last chapter, they were so positive it made me smile. Enjoy a super long chapter as a 'thank you' and (finally) an introduction for the Joker.
Stay amazing XOXOXO -Improbable Dreamer
While Caterina was enjoying a new comfortable relationship with Bruce Wayne, the rest of Gotham wouldn't dare allow her a moment's piece.
She woke up early on a Sunday, and decided that she wanted, nay deserved, to spend a little alone time with her boyfriend.
"Morning." He was bent over a newspaper with his head in his hands. He didn't even look up when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his temple.
"What's plaguing our city today?"
It was meant as a light-hearted quip, but the way Bruce sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, tugged the playful smile from her lips.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," his hunched figure remained unmoving. "Just, crime, it's a bit of a pain in the ass."
The cover of 'Gotham Gazette' lay on the table before him and was embellished with a large security-camera photograph. The man, if it truly was a man, had a mess of curly hair perched over a distorted face. The fabricated smile and ink-stain eyes seemed to break away from the paper and Cat was left transfixed, almost, in his coal-black eyes. Like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake, it was a while before the paralysis wore off.
"Clown thieves?" Cat shook her head, laughing in mild disbelief. "A bit corny don't you think?"
When there was once again, no response, she regarded Bruce pensively.
"You're taking this rather personally. Leave crime to The Batman and have breakfast with your girlfriend."
At the mention of the infamous vigilante, Bruce managed a watery smile and finally overturned the newspaper and, with it, the disturbing image. He swivelled in his chair to face her.
"I'm sorry." He gently pulled her into his lap and rested his head in the crook of her neck. "You know I love you Cat."
She giggled as the warmth of his breath tickled her neck and didn't hesitate to intertwine her fingers with his.
"Just promise me," Cat murmured, pulling back so they were face-to-face. "That you won't let this 'Joker' guy into your head."
Bruce kissed her slowly, "I promise." He replied against her lips.
MEANWHILE
"What the hell is this?"
Two burly Chinese men entered the wide room carrying a television and set it down at the end of the table.
Gotham's most notorious criminals were forced to meet after the burglary of one of their deposits, and they were promised a face-to-face meeting with Lau, their 'accountant' for use of a euphemism.
The television screen crackled to life and Lau, a Chinese man with a small frame and a brimming self-confidence, appeared, to the complete eruption of the room.
"Gentlemen please," Lau attempted, with heavy condescension, to lull the outraged crowd of murderers and thieves, the very fact that he wasn't there in person was enough to elicit a very agitated response. "As you you're all aware, one of our deposits was stolen. A relatively small amount; 68 million."
The horde eventually quietened and sat begrudgingly to address this, money was always a matter to be discussed.
"Who's stupid enough to steal from us," a large European man, known only as Chechen, barked from the front of the table.
Several quick responses were shot from around the group, but the new head of the Falcone family and thus highest in the food chain, Salvatore Maroni, demanded the men's attention with his commanding tone.
"A two-bit whack-job, wears a cheap purple suit and make-up. He's not the problem; he's a nobody." Maroni turned to the screen again. "The problem is our money being tracked by the cops."
There were murmurs of surprise ricocheted off the men and Lau betrayed a self-satisfactory smile.
"Thanks to Mr. Maroni's well-placed sources, we know that police have indeed, identified our banks using marked bills, and are planning to seize your funds today."
This time, everyone began to shout simultaneously and the men were thrown into momentary chaos. Lau looked on as if enjoying the anarchy, and took a substantial amount of time before he continued his speech.
"And since the enthusiastic new DA has put all my competitors out of business, I'm your only option."
At this, there was an unenthusiastic agreement from the company and Maroni netted his hands under his chin, considering the reliability of Lau's claims.
"So, what do you propose?"
"Moving all deposits to one secure location, not a bank, obviously no one can know the location but me. If the police were to gain leverage over one of you, everyone's money would be at stake. I have already moved the money, for obvious reasons I couldn't wait for your permission. Rest assured, your money is safe."
He added the final remark quickly, as the rabble threatened to begin an outcry again.
For a few seconds, the men were mildly discussing Lau's actions, before, from the back of the room, out of sight of Maroni and his gangster cronies, a cold laughter resonated.
The chortles grew harsher in volume and in menace until the entire room was filled and all eyes turned on the approaching figure.
The man had sweaty clown makeup obscuring awful scars that widened his mouth into a permanent, ghoulish smile. His purple suit and unmistakable appearance immediately established him to the men as the culprit who stole their money.
As if on cue, all the criminals reached for their guns and prepared themselves for an assault. Joker, however, made no move of hostility and continued to approach the table.
"And I thought my jokes were bad," his voice was nasally and drenched in dark intentions.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't have my boy here pull your head off." Growled the man immediately to his right.
But the man's muscle-clad bodyguard served no purpose in intimidating the Joker, who pulled a freshly sharpened pencil from one of his many pockets in response and slammed it on the table top. "How about a magic trick?"
Aggravated, the body-guard sprung from his seat and strutted over to the clown. A round of quiet chuckling followed his movements and the gangsters quickly labelled the Joker as 'outmatched'.
"I'm going to make this pencil disappear," he waved a hand with blood-stained nails over the pencil, as a magician would over a rabbit in a hat. When the bodyguard was about to seize Joker's arm to stab him with a brandished knife, the Joker sidestepped his lunge, gripped the back of his head and brought it crashing down, face first onto the pencil. There was a sickening crack, a thud as the body fell to the floor, limp, and the Joker turned to the shocked crowd with a grin.
"Tahdah! It's gone!"
A small puddle of blood began to pool at his feet, he kicked at it in an attempt to keep his shoes clean. "Oh, and by the way," Joker looked up again, unfazed by the scarlet liquid. "The suit, it wasn't cheap. You ought to know, you bought it!"
The man, who would have to send out an advert for a new bodyguard, stood up suddenly with white-clenched knuckles.
"Easy," Chechen's arm flew out, and with a commanding wave, he sat back down again. "I wanna hear proposition."
The Joker nodded at him in thanks, a gesture grossly unbefitting him, and proceeded to address the now uneasy crowd of gangsters.
"Let's wind the clock back a year," he licked his lips and paced around the edge of the table. "These cops and lawyers wouldn't dare cross any of you. What happened? Did your balls drop off? You see a guy like me-"
"-A freak."
The acidic remark sprouted from the bodyguard-less man, and for a second the Joker hesitated, grimacing.
"A guy like me-" He continued dangerously slowly. Then, as if a new thought had occurred to him, he broke off suddenly. "-I know why you choose to have your 'group therapy sessions' in broad daylight." The men murmured angrily, obviously disliking the sarcasm and condescension that Joker aimed at them. "I know why you're afraid to go out at night."
He paused for dramatic effect, licking his lips, his black eyes darting among the crowd.
"The Batman. Batman has shown Gotham your true colors, unfortunately. Dent-?" He waved his hand, "-He's just the beginning."
Many of the gangsters began to nod at this, the new District Attorney and Gotham's own 'white knight' Harvey Dent may have been causing them trouble with his efficiency, but the trouble wouldn't end with him.
"And as for the television's so-called plan," Joker gestured vaguely to Lau, who was frowning, unsettled by the events taking place.
"The Batman has no jurisdiction. He'll find him and make him squeal." Joker clenched his fists suddenly to emphasise this last word, "I know the squealers when I see them and…"
Once again, Joker gestured to Lau in the form of an accusing point. The television faded to black as Lau, sensing a switch in the power dynamic, disconnected.
"What do you propose?" Chechen asked, leaning back in his chair and was, despite everything, genuinely interested in this madman's plan.
"It's simple…we-uh-kill the Batman."
Jeers and shouts echoed from the sitting audience and Maroni took this opportunity to raise his voice again and challenge the Joker, "If it's so simple why haven't you done it already?"
"If you're good at something never do it for free." The Joker replied quickly, addressing him for the first time.
"How much you want?" Chechen asked, humour tinted in his remark.
The Joker looked down suddenly, contemplating the answer.
"Hm," he looked up again, a strange light in his eyes. "Half."
The laughter that followed was genuine and cold, as the men suddenly realised how insane he really was.
"You're crazy."
"No, I'm not." Joker carried the 't' between his teeth and proceeded to glare at the crowd still hiccupping laughter. "If we don't deal with this now, soon little -uh- 'Gamble' here won't be able to get a nickel for his grandma."
Gambol jumped up at this and moved angrily to the Joker, stepping over his dead body-guard and reaching into his breast pocket for his handgun.
"Enough from the clown!"
Noticing this, Joker casually opened his coat and revealed numerous explosives wired to his chest. The flashing bombs and heavily tangled electrical eqipment caused an uproar from the men and Joker wiggled his thumb, revealing it to be attached to one of the wires.
"Let's not 'blow' this out of proportion."
He couldn't help but smile as the terrified men slowly lowered themselves back into their seats, 'they put so much value on their own lives that it physically caused him hilarity.'
Gambol was the only man left standing, he attempted to look fierce and intimidating, but was eyeing the explosives with the same look in his eyes as the petrified men.
"Do you think you can steal from us and just walk away? It's going to take more than some dramatized promises to win our trust."
Joker shrugged easily, lowering his coat and readjusting the wires so they were no longer visible.
"What? You want tryouts? I gotta learn the secret handshake to get into your little girl scouts?"
"No," Gambol clenched his teeth as he let this remark slide. "68 million, you get it all back and we 'might' consider putting bets on you."
"Ah," he smiled sheepishly in response. "Regrettably, I may have used it all…it just kinda' went up in smoke." He waved his arms in the air carelessly.
Gambol didn't back down.
"Then you're going to get it back. It might be 'small change' but it's the price to pay for our trust."
"What trust?" Joker spat at him, "You don't trust each other, you would slit the throat of the person next to you for a few green notes, but this…" he grinned again at the discomfort displayed by the sitting men, who were now shooting each other distrustful glances and casually reaching for their guns. "This I'll do for fun."
"Who you gonna steal from?"
"Ah, stealing? Stealing is too easy. I'm going to kidnap someone," he clapped his hands together loudly as if suggesting an exciting new activity. "Kidnap. Ransom. Kill; You know the play."
Gambol looked back at Maroni, who nodded his approval.
"You wanna target Bruce Wayne then," Maroni piped up, his arms folded." That billionaire is practically a coin on the pavement."
Joker bowed his head at this, in a gesture of accepting his challenge.
"Caterina Morgan, that's his girl, you'll get the money no problem."
At this the Joker laughed again, a high-pitched and goose bump inducing cackle.
"No, no, no. She's not the one. The one Wayne really cares about? Rachel Dawes, old friend. Oh-," he addressed the looks of surprise and disbelief. "-I keep up with gossip."
"Whatever clown-face," Maroni was growing more and more tired of the Joker's antics. "Just get the money and don't get distracted."
The very thought of this occurring sent the Joker into fits of hysterical laughter as he marched out of the room.