Layla. Was. Drunk.
Not even five minutes after Celine returned from the sawhorses, her cousin made an announcement.
"Oh, yep. I-" She hiccupped into her palm. "-definitely broke the seal."
Upon attempting to stand, she fell sideways onto her husband's lap.
"Woah, woah, alright," he laughed, slipping an arm around her and depositing his half-full bottle into the cupholder. "Looks like we're going on a trip to the bathroom."
"Lightweight," Marc remarked.
She might've been intoxicated, but she wasn't deaf. Her middle finger immediately flew up.
Marc – now three beers in – returned the favor.
"Marc," came Lu's reprimand.
"Layla," Martin tried to admonish, battling back a lopsided grin.
Joker smirked at the display. Celine suspected his amusement had less to do with the child-like rivalry still present between her adult cousins and more to do with the fact that he was indirectly responsible for their squabble.
Everyone apart from Lauren, Rita, and Lu (he had switched to water after downing two beers) were riding varying stages of intoxication. Eli should have been the worst one off considering he had six empty bottles pooled at his feet, but being the mountain of a man he was, the inebriation was taking its sweet time with him. Though, he wasn't so sober as to not rub flirtatious circles with a thumb against his wife's back. Something she seemed to enjoy as she found subtle ways to lean into his touch or throw a small smile his way.
"We'll be back," Nelson said, helping Layla stand.
"Don't play any more games without me!" she expressed.
They watched the duo weave their way back to the screened-in porch.
"Every damn summer," Marc sighed, throwing both hands behind his head. "You'd think a Harlow would keep their alcohol down better."
"Considering our family history," Eli returned, "that she drinks once a year is a damn miracle."
Marc opened his mouth, but Lu interrupted.
"He's right, it doesn't hurt any to cut back. Especially if you want a family of your own one day."
Marc rolled his eyes.
"Fat chance. I'm perfectly content being a hot, loaded bachelor."
Lauren arched a brow.
"Hot?" she asked dryly. "Do you not own a mirror?"
This jumpstarted a quarrel between the two, though, Celine temporarily tuned out of it. She couldn't help but replay Eli's words over.
I know he's not calling me out specifically. Our family's love of spirits spans generations. Still... I guess that guilt and accountability isn't entirely out of my system, no matter how long I go sober. I wonder if it ever fully leaves...
"How about it, Cece?"
She tuned back in upon realizing she was being spoken to.
"You wanna get a few shots in?" Martin asked, gesturing his head down to the rifles.
She pursed her lips, contemplating the options below her.
"Mm, this I'd like to see," Joker murmured, crossing his arms. "What does Cece the Pacifist got?"
When no one else chimed in, his smirk dampened a little. It was obvious he'd been expecting support from at least one person.
Instead, Martin grinned.
"He doesn't know, does he?"
Celine bit her lip.
"It's not really been a focal point of our relationship," she admitted.
Joker's brows furrowed. He looked at her expectantly but didn't say anything.
"Show him what you got," Lu followed up.
Nodding, she knelt and studied the rifles. Joker had returned the Remington 700 back into its slot, but it was to the right of it that her eyes wandered.
After a half minute of contemplation, she settled on the most expensive rifle Lu owned - an all-black Tikka model with an AR-15 grip, equipped with a scope. Being an expert-level rifle, it was also the heaviest out of all of them, which is why when she picked it up, she let it sit in her hands; re-acclimating herself to its weight.
"Every year," Lu mentioned, "I consider upgrading that one to the newest model. But can't seem to quite part with it, knowing it's your favorite."
"If I ever make a permanent move to the country," she replied, loading the chamber. "I'll buy it off of you."
Lu shook his head.
"Consider it yours. Rather you put your money toward ammunition or accessories. God knows those are pricey enough as it is."
Her heart fluttered. It was one thing to pass down a rifle to a son or daughter, another thing entirely to someone who wasn't even your offspring.
The depths of Lu's generosity never ceased to amaze her.
I have got to go all out for his birthday next year. Something even someone as humble as him wouldn't be able to pass up. Maybe... an all-expense paid cruise. Hey, now that's an idea. Let him be pampered and taken care of for once. Aunt D too. Where to is the question...
She stood and avoided Joker's gaze. It would disrupt her concentration, and, was, quite frankly, drilling into her hard. In fact, it felt like he was metaphorically flicking her temple with his fingers. Look at me! God damn it, look at me!
Arriving at the first sawhorse, she rolled her shoulders back and forth until her muscles were loose. She then raised the rifle and spent a few seconds doing what Joker had- readjusting her grip until it felt right. One of the few downsides with this model was it tended to be bulky, thus making it cumbersome settling on a way to handle it; especially for someone her height.
But she had over five summers under her belt of shooting with this model. So, it wasn't long before she got the butt tucked securely against her shoulder and the forestock cupped firmly in her fingers.
When aiming at the 2-liters, she didn't need to peek through the scope. A steady eye was all one needed to ensure accuracy.
For nearly a minute, she did nothing but work on her breathing, much like she did before meditating. As soon as her heartbeat synced up with her breaths, she fired. Then pulled the bolt back before pushing the next bullet in and firing again.
She fired four more times before lowering the barrel and squinting.
Whereas Joker had made the first three 2-liters spew water out of them, her shots had torn the plastic clean off the bottom; leaving what little water remained to dump out onto the grass. The other three empty 2-liters all sported a fresh new wound just a few inches below Joker's.
"That's mighty fine," Martin complimented. "Always is, granted. But good to see you still on your A-game."
Shifting in place, she risked a glance Joker's way.
He was staring at the 2-liters as if in a trance.
"Good job, sweetheart," Vivien approved. "Now how about those cans."
Celine reloaded and moved on to the second sawhorse.
Rolling her shoulders, she relaxed into position; this time, utilizing the scope.
In this regard, Joker had her beat. Hitting the 12 oz cans was nearly impossible without a scope, especially with the model he'd used. The man had genuinely impressed everyone, herself included.
But it wasn't a competition, at least she didn't view it as such. If she was up against Marc, it might be a little different. He naturally stroked her competitive side.
With Joker, it was like he'd ventured ahead, but stopped at a trailhead to wait for her. She just needed a few seconds to catch up.
And catch up she did.
Eight shots later and her ears were ringing something fierce. It took about half a minute to work out what Martin was saying.
"-see how accurate you were."
She watched him jog over to the cans.
Joker was suddenly hovering over her left shoulder, breathing heavy despite his mouth being closed. He didn't say anything, possibly because Lu was keeping an eye on him. Thankfully, it looked more like an amused eye rather than a watchful one.
When Martin returned, he was slightly out of breath.
"Got all eight cans, though, the last four holes are a little off from the first four."
"An improvement over last year," Lu said. "Well done, Cece."
Marc, Eli, Rita, Viviene, and Eugene added their own congratulatory praises.
She couldn't help but bask in their love. Even if external circumstances had forced her home early, she was grateful to be surrounded by her biggest supporters. Which wasn't to discredit Bruce's or Stephanie's or Agatha's friendships. Her Gotham family had her back too, often in ways that her Maine family couldn't.
But there was something inherently special about those who knew her since she was a kid, still encouraging her all these decades later. Despite the bumps in the road, the lapses in judgment, the not so wise choices on her part. They were still here, making something as small as hitting some targets with a gun feel like an extraordinary achievement. This kind of love was a privilege to be on the receiving end of, and she wasn't sure she'd be the same person without it.
She spent a couple minutes marinating in the afterglow, removing the last two bullets left in the chamber.
"How're you with a bow, Jack?"
Whatever stupor he'd been encased in, Joker snapped out of.
He met Lu's eyes with a guarded expression.
"I... know my way around a crossbow."
She was surprised to hear a bit of uncertainty creep into his tone. It seemed whatever experience he claimed to have was on a more minimal level. And it discomforted him to reveal this, hence him settling on a more positive-neutral answer.
"A crossbow is, well, not simple, but simpler," he explained. "Your two best friends are wrist and upper body strength. With the longbow, your best friend is discipline. See, it's all about building rhythm. You find that internal rhythm where you're one with your breaths, and you manage to line that up with your focus?"
He whistled.
"Ain't nothing that can escape you once you release that arrow."
He gestured with his head over to the bales of hay.
"How about it? I enjoyed watching you nail those cans. Would love to see you take on a bow."
She sat the rifle into its appropriate slot, hyperaware Joker was still lingering behind her.
It was sorely tempting to glance back at him, but she didn't want to influence his decision in any way. Instinct hinted he wasn't going to back down from the offer. The man prided himself on being a master of all forms of weaponry, no matter the amount of experience he had. If she had to wager a guess, his line of thinking was probably something to the effect of even if I don't have much experience, it can't be that hard to figure out.
He proved her right just a second later.
"I'm down."
He brushed past her without a word, following Lucien.
As she studied his retreating form, she couldn't help but notice a concerning stiffness possessing him. Personally speaking, it didn't matter whether he was good or not with a bow. He excelled in so many other arenas that it was otherwise irrelevant whether archery was in his wheelhouse.
No, the source of her concern rested in how he would handle himself should he not do as well as expected. Pride drove Joker probably more than he'd be comfortable admitting to. Should his ego sustain a bruising, how would that fare for those witnessing it?
A hand on her back made her jump.
"If he impresses with the bow," Viviene whispered, "I'd say you've earned Lu's blessing too."
The woman offered her a hearty squeeze before making her way over to the hay bales with the rest of her family. Everyone seemed to be pumped for round two.
I don't think earning his blessing will be that easy. But... it might be a step in that direction.
She stood and trailed after the group all the while working on an encouraging smile. One that was neither patronizing nor let on that she had detected his lack of confidence.
Maybe this is all in my head. Maybe he'll do good. I mean... granted, shooting a gun and a bow require two separate body stances. But he handles weapons on a regular basis, there's got to be some familiarity present. He's not dumb, he'll figure it out.
Inspired by this, she quickened her pace.
"-just tightened her recently," Lu was saying as she arrived, eyeing the longbow fondly. "I'd say you and I are about the same height, give or take. So, she should suit you well. Up to you whether you wanna sling the arrows over your shoulder in this quiver here, or if you want me to hand them one by one to you."
Joker contemplated his options.
"I'll take the quiver," he decided, grasping the bow by its grip.
"Alright. I'll give ya ten to start with. Let me know if you want more."
Despite her nerves, she couldn't help but smile at the scene before her. Joker analyzing the bow with a squint, occasionally switching it to the opposite hand, testing its weight, while Lu helped fill up the quiver. To the casual onlooker the scene was normal. The scene was that of a family; bonding, hanging out, socializing.
Another surreal moment no one in Gotham would believe. I almost don't believe it, and I'm standing right here.
She reeled in her smile as Lu handed the quiver off to Joker, who slung it over his shoulder.
The men briefly made eye contact, and just as quickly, broke it apart. Joker's gaze flew to the targets and Lu's dropped to the grass.
"You uh-." He raised a hand to Joker's shoulder, then thought better of it and lowered it. "-best of luck."
Joker responded by removing one of the arrows from his shoulder and situating himself in front of the first bale.
Everyone migrated to his back right; giving him ample room so as to not feel stifled. No one talked either. It was an unspoken understanding in their family that mustering the focus to shoot a longbow required greater concentration than a rifle. Greater intricacies in body posture too. Even Martin knew to pay his respects with an anchored tongue. Though, the beer bottle at his lips certainly helped.
Joker hovered in place for a few seconds, studying the target, before adopting a sideways stance with the bow.
Her smile wavered.
His knees aren't bent enough. And he's leaning too far back.
She had to physically step on her own foot to keep from shuffling over and helping him adjust his posture.
Maybe... he'll realize it's not quite right and recalibrate.
She winced as the arrow he attempted to nock into the rest, slipped from his fingers. He had the reflexes to nab it before it hit the ground, but the damage to composure was done.
His brows shot together, nearly giving him a unibrow, and the skin over his jawline tightened.
Her family remained patient; though, she could feel the tension in the air amp up a little. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lu in seemingly the same predicament as her. Wanting badly to assist, but on the same hand, knowing he needed the autonomy to make his own choices.
Joker nocked the arrow correctly the second time around, which renewed her hopes. He drew back the string to his cheek easily enough. However-
His elbow is too close to his torso. And his shoulder is too high up in the air.
She didn't realize her nails were biting into a palm until Joker released the string.
The arrow sailed forward, fletcher making a soft thock! against the bow's grip. This last-second contact forced the arrow into an acrobatic series of flips before plopping onto the grass.
The bale of hay loomed sixty yards away. Joker's arrow made it about a yard.
She didn't know what to do. He didn't move a muscle and no one in her family dared utter a word.
"Hmpfh," he mumbled, shooting a quick glance in their direction. "I ah meant to do that."
He retrieved another arrow and nocked it into place.
That he chose the route of humor made her want to throw her hands up and shout a string of positive obscenities. There were so many worse ways he could have handled his embarrassment.
Her family relaxed as well, finding Joker's icebreaker something to discretely chuckle about. They weren't the type to rag on a newcomer, knowing how much courage it required to try something new in front of a crowd of strangers. And as far as that ragging was concerned... well, it'd come later on, when he evolved from first time participant to a full-time member of the family.
Joker wasted no time releasing the second arrow. This one managed to zoom all the way to the bale but dipped before it could hit the target's outermost circle.
Celine didn't care. She released a "woo!" and three joyous claps.
He didn't look at her, but she noticed the corner of the lip facing them, ascend briefly before lowering into a thin line.
The next eight arrows were a revelation to her family on just how quick of a learner Joker was, and how readily he adapted to any given situation.
Even from his very first flop of a shot, he knew what to adjust to improve the next one. And each shot was an improvement over the last.
The third one hit the outer rim of the largest circle. The fourth and fifth hit within it. He was bending his knees now. The sixth hit the second largest circle. He stopped tucking his elbow so closely against his torso. The seventh was just two circles away from the bull's eye. He no longer released the arrow as soon as he nocked it, taking to slowing his breaths first. The last and final arrow struck exactly where the seventh one had, except on the opposite side of the circle.
When he finally lowered the longbow to his side, everyone let out a unanimous round of applause. Martin made his way over and clapped him on the back of the shoulder as Lu nodded his head in approval.
At first, Joker didn't know how to react to the flattery being showered upon him. He studied his shoes, then gnawed at the inside of his thumb, then jerked a little when Martin clapped his shoulder, before sniffing once and shrugging, as if to imply it wasn't a big deal.
"First time with a longbow?" Lu asked him once the cheer died down.
Whatever Joker glimpsed in his eyes was enough to inspire a truthful response.
"Uh, yeah."
Lu nodded.
"Damn good job, Jack. Keep practicing and I reckon you'll be a professional in no time."
Joker gave no indication that this comment affected him, but Celine knew better. It was in the way he immediately averted eye contact, searching for something inanimate to look at. And the way he kept rubbing the back of his neck. Most discretely, it was in the slight wobbling of his Adam's apple.
He's... well, touched is too generous. I'd say... definitely not immune to the positive reinforcement. Appreciative, even if his body language suggests otherwise.
She pulled herself out her musings and made her way forward. Martin moved over so she could take a spot next to him.
"For your first time, that was amazing," she encouraged, meeting Joker's eyes. "Seriously, no one ever picks up on the longbow that quickly. They're usually begging for a go with the crossbow when all is said and done, just so they can walk away with their pride intact. Lu's right, you've got the potential to be lethal."
It was use of that last word in particular to compliment him that made the corner of his lips tug upward. Though, his eyes were far too serious for her liking.
Martin's next comment did her no favors.
"The boy's got a knack for it, I'll give him that. But you wanna see a pro in action, watch Cece take a crack. Go ahead, show him how it's done."
Celine's eyes fell to Joker's chest.
"I- it's alright. I'll pass this time around."
"Nonsense!" Martin slung an arm around her shoulders. "You let him show off with the rifle, only fair you return the favor."
"Uncle Marty's right," Eli pitched in, looser-lipped now that a steady buzz had taken root in him. "No reason to hold back, you got the best aim of all of us."
She felt Joker's searing gaze on her once more, singing the hairs atop her skull.
I really don't want to take this moment away from him.
"I don't-."
He abruptly shoved the longbow into her partially open hand.
"Go ahead."
This was all he said before shouldering the quiver off himself and tossing it to Lu.
As Lu refilled the quiver, Joker retreated to her lefthand side, away from the rest of her family. She dared not look at him, lest her nerves suffer a seizure.
I- this is dumb. Getting in my head about this is dumb. He owned it with the rifle, there's no reason I should feel like I need to hold back. Even if he's... being moody and hard to read. Is it... could it be he doesn't appreciate being shown up by a woman? That... doesn't seem right, he gifted me Sally. A woman that knows how to handle a weapon shouldn't be a flaw in his eye... right?
Lu offered her the quiver.
"Thanks."
She slung it over her shoulder.
He must have sensed some anxiety radiating off her for her leaned in and lowered his voice.
"Eli's right, no reason to hold back. You're under no obligation to be accommodating, you understand?"
His gentle reassurance boosted her confidence.
"Plus... something tells me Jack'll appreciate your skill, even if it outshines his own."
I really hope you're right.
He patted her once before backing away.
Tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ears, Celine planted herself in roughly the same spot Joker had taken aim from. Usually, she preferred a shorter bow more conducive to her height. But, considering this one was handed off to her none too gently, she didn't think it worth asking for her go-to. This one would do just fine.
She got into shooting position and retrieved an arrow from the quiver. Nocking it, she focused on evening out her breathing.
A fact that probably didn't make her Wikipedia page was that archery had been a hobby of hers since she'd been a preteen. Her uncles had taught her, and then she and friends had shot numerous evenings on Lu's property; though, they all seemed to prefer the compound or crossbow for its ease.
A long stretch during and after her college years saw her cease practicing altogether, and as result, she grew rusty. Only when these summer gatherings started to become a thing did she realize that the talent had never really abandoned her, even if some of the upper arm strength had.
So, she re-committed to the hobby, and discovered along the way that Bruce had dabbled with the sport while he'd attended Princeton. They'd journeyed a handful of times out of the city to a professional archery range and tried their luck there. She'd have liked the trips to be frequenter but considering some of the injuries Bruce sustained fighting criminals, she also didn't press him if he didn't feel up to it.
Now, standing there, equipped with two decades of experience, and the only difference was that her first three fingers didn't bend as easily as times prior. Though, having taken her medications earlier in the day, specifically the one that helped with cramping, did help bring some life back to them.
She wiggled them once for good measure, relieved to see them bend without too much a fuss. Honing her gaze in on the target, she drew the string back to her cheek. Her breathing slowed until a patient rhythm developed.
When she felt the timing was right, Celine released her first arrow. Upon glimpsing where it landed, she fired the rest of the nine until the quiver sat empty against her.
Lowering the bow, she observed the target.
The bull's eye struggled to accommodate all ten arrow heads. On a more poetic note, it looked like it was crying one thick lump of brittle feathers.
"Woo! That's what I'm talking about!" Martin cheered. "Swell job, Cece!"
The applause and whoops made her perk up, but that was to the extent that she celebrated. She was just grateful that even with the injury to her hand, she hadn't lost her precision.
Just as the clapping came to a close, Joker cleared his throat.
"I... need to go."
She twirled in his direction faster than she meant to.
"Go?"
His eyes dropped to her.
"Bathroom," he elaborated. "Will you ah show me?"
She nodded slowly, letting Lu take the bow and quiver from her.
"Um, alright, we'll be back."
The walk to the house was made in a seriously unusual silence. Joker had buried his hands into his pockets, staring down at the ground as they walked. His expression was closed off, but the energy buzzing off of him suggested either irritation or annoyance as his dominant emotion.
She racked her brain for all the possible reasons. By all means, it seemed as if he'd been enjoying himself. And impressed everybody with his abilities. Had she been right? Did being outperformed bother him? Or was it something else altogether?
Upon entering the kitchen, he maintained his silence; though, his gaze did draw upward to study the occupants inside.
"Hey Cece," Layla greeted, resting against the island with a half-eaten bread roll in her hand. "Heard your favorite rifle go off, how'd you do?"
Nelson was hovering nearby, making sure his wife was filling up her empty stomach.
"Six out of six on the 2-liters," she answered. "Eight out of eight on the cans, though, four were a little off from the others."
"Fours an improvement from last year," Aunt Dolores inserted, washing her hands in the sink. "And I hear Jack didn't do half bad himself."
Aunt June was drying some pots and pans but glanced up to hear Joker's response.
Joker didn't respond, though, she felt the familiar bunching up of her blouse at her lower back.
"Blew us all away," Celine confirmed. "You guys should've seen Marty's face."
June hid a smile and went back to drying the dishes.
"We um-." She straightened up. "-I'm going to show Jack the bathroom."
"Oh," Layla mumbled through a mouthful, "use th'a one upsta'rs. Kinda... puked in th'a 'allway one."
Her brows drew together.
"Already?"
She grinned sheepishly.
"Don't tell Marc?"
Celine twisted an invisible key over her mouth.
She led Joker up the stairs, ignoring the tightening of his knuckles on her.
The second they reached the bathroom, he shoved her inside and stepped in after her, locking the door behind him.
She stumbled a little but regained her footing.
"Um-." She scampered backwards toward the tub. "-what's happening?"
"You-."
He made a strained sound, inhaling harshly through his nostrils.
"-have not been very forthcoming."
She wasn't sure if it was a question, a statement or an accusation.
"About what?"
A flurry of tics nipped at his jaw.
"The rifle," he growled, baring his teeth. "The bow. Thought you'd get it by now... it's not nice to keep secrets from me."
"I-I never said I couldn't use either?" she stuttered out, closely monitoring his expression. "I fire both every summer when I come home. Lu's invitation to do some shooting our first day here... that wasn't just extended to you. I... I told you in the treehouse, right? That hunter's training courses were common up here. That... I was a really outdoorsy person."
Mercifully, this had the intended effect. He leaned back a little; halting whatever else he meant to say. Whatever else he meant to accuse her of hiding from him.
"If I knew it meant this much to you," she said, keeping her tone soft. "I would've told you sooner."
"It's-." He exhaled, still worked up. "-not just that. You-."
He raised both arms, fingers flexing.
"Why?" he released. "Do you not... why don't you... you're... you're fucking... good."
She didn't anticipate a compliment being at the end of that sentence.
"Thank you?"
He stalked toward her. She retreated until her calves bumped into the side of the tub. Her body teetered backwards, but Joker latched onto an arm and pulled her into him before she could make a fool of herself.
Both of his hands were suddenly cupping her cheeks whilst his thumbs indented into her jawline. No matter what direction she tried to move her head, his face was the only thing he allowed her to view.
"Why would you choose pacifism?" he blurted, studying her as if she was nuts. "You've got potential. Could you imagine the kinda firestorm you and I could unleash on Gotham? Could you imagine how quickly we could take that city if we just... put a little effort in?"
It was becoming clearer where his head was at.
"You at my side," he rattled on, sounding a little frantic. "They-hahaha-they wouldn't stand a chance!"
Swallowing, she carefully wrapped her fingers around his wrists. His pulse pounded against her skin like a snare drum.
"I- I'm not that kind of person," she answered. "I... violence doesn't come... naturally to me. At least not against others. Not unless... it's absolutely needed. I wouldn't last long in your profession."
"I'd teach ya," he insisted, shaking her. "There's nothing to it, Cece. Taking that first life is like... like... finding the perfect pair of glasses! You see. You finally see the limitations imposed on you by hypocrites who write rules but don't follow them. Killing is... a human right. It's ingrained in us, it's the reason we outlived our evo-lutionary counterparts. It's natural, it's exhilarating, and I can teach you how to make it... fun."
He was gazing at her with wide, semi-bloodshot eyes. As if she was a missing link he'd been without. He was gazing at her like he could already envision her working for him. With him.
"Jack..."
The mania coursing through his body threatened to overtake him.
She pushed through his hold until their foreheads were touching.
"Jack," she repeated, quieter; trying to bring him down to Earth.
His scars kept spasming, eyes finally meeting hers.
"I..." She licked her lips, heart thumping. "Even if I let you teach me... it wouldn't be enough to stave off the guilt. When I hurt someone, I feel it so deeply. It's how I'm wired. Taking a life would never get easier. I- think I'd end up taking my own."
His knees buckled in frustration.
"But don't you see what a waste it is?" he implored, fingers tightening on her. "You can shoot in your sleep but choose not to. Why bother honing that craft? I saw you perk up after getting those targets. I saw the pride in your eye. That wasn't just a way to bond with the family. You're committed to improving. Why if not to utilize it?"
Her bottom lip trembled. The pressure on her cheekbones was making her lightheaded. She tried to gather her thoughts before they could disperse.
"There's an... anecdote," she recalled carefully. "A... conversation that transpired between a Buddhist student and... a Buddhist master."
She paused, trying to regain her breaths. Trying to remember the details perfectly, for there wasn't any other way to make him understand.
"The student said... 'You teach me to fight, but you talk about peace. How do you reconcile the two'?" His eyes remained on her, indicating she'd not lost him yet. "The master answered... 'Because it is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war'."
It took a few seconds for her words to sink in.
"I- am a gardener at heart, though, I recognize the necessity of being a warrior. This is why I learn... why I... continue to try and improve. Rifle, bow, self-defense classes. This world... does not share my heart, but I refuse to let it steal my tenderness."
He was emitting such a barrage of emotions it briefly made her feel as if she was being held under water.
"Does that... make sense?"
His nostrils flared, nails biting into her face. Grumbling something she was glad not to hear, he pushed her away.
When he turned around and slid two hands through his hair, she prepared herself for the worst.
This last hour was too good to be true. It's inevitable this side of him would come out.
His entire body went deathly still. Both hands dropped to his sides, slowly uncurling from the fists they'd balled into.
She wanted badly to pry her gaze away, but knew it was imperative she keep a close eye on him. There was no telling how he would handle this rejection of personal ideology. This rejection to be... partners in crime.
A minute passed. Celine swiped at the back of her neck. It was riddled with sweat.
When he finally turned halfway in her direction, she had to suppress the urge to jump. Something about being able to only glimpse his muscled arm and scarred cheek, but not his eyes, unsettled her deeply.
"Jac-?"
"Walk over to the sink," he ordered, "and sit."
She knew she heard him right, but her limbs failed to process the command.
"I don't-."
"Celine," he said, voice descending into a spine-tingling murmur. "Sit down on the sink. Now."
She was at a loss on how to proceed. Briefly, her eyes flicked to the door.
"Mm." His scar shot up. "You won't make it... though, your welcome to try."
Gulping, she found herself inching over to the sink. He offered no clue as to what his intentions were; something that scared and thrilled her in equal amounts.
I've really gone down the rabbit's hole, haven't I? A month ago, and I'd be booking it for the door, no matter how little of a chance I stood. Is... this what a soulmanship does to you? Turns you into the world's biggest idiot?
Exhaling shakily, she hopped onto the sink; scooting over so her bottom was positioned on the countertop.
After about a minute of silence, he finally faced her.
She nearly collapsed back against the mirror. His eyes were ablaze, like someone had set a barrel of bourbon on fire. And he was smiling in a way that made her feel as if she'd been pushed out of an airplane.
"Good," he said, lapping at a scar. "Now... hike up your skirt."
Her brows furrowed. She thought to ask him to repeat himself, but one look at his crotch clarified some of what he was feeling.
Has he been sporting that this entire time?
Hesitantly, she leaned forward and slipped two fingers inside the hem of her skirt.
"Why... am I doing this?"
"Mm, because I'm telling you to."
She didn't take the bait, fingers still hovering in the same spot. Some would say it was a suicide mission not to adhere to his command. Her curiosity really was a bastard of a thing.
He stifled a grunt, sensing she wouldn't comply until he provided a satisfactory answer.
"Your ah "anecdote"-." He threw quotation marks around the word. "-is, regrettably, what I've come to expect from you. And ah as inconvenient as that resolve of yours is, you'd be boring without it. You'd be... like all the others."
His face scrunched up at the thought.
"Don't wanna burn down the world with me?" he continued. "Fine. Just keep that tender little ass behind me, unless you want it to get incinerated. What a waste that'd be. I'd spend the rest of my days mourning it."
He dabbed dramatically at his eye.
She in turn was taken aback by his re-composure. That he didn't cling longer to his anger or take a bigger offense to her pacifistic response, surprised her as well. It also concluded something kind of spectacular.
He... respects that boundary. Respects that I'm unwilling to switch philosophies at the drop of a hat. That I stick to my guns. That I know myself well enough to structure a cohesive response, even if it's one he disagrees with. It separates me from... those he likes to corrupt. Those who make it easy for him to corrupt.
"Why am I hiking my skirt up?" she tried, a little more at ease than she'd been a few minutes ago.
"Because," he enunciated, slowly approaching her, "I just watched my bunny nail every god damn target with a rifle nearly bigger than her. And stick ten arrows inside a teeny tiny little bull's eye. You're lucky I didn't throw you to the ground and feast on your cunt like a raving lunatic. Not exaggerating when I say... it'd a taken every member of your family to pry me off you."
Her mouth swung open.
"Jesus," she gasped.
He smirked.
"Joker," he corrected. "Easy to mix up, believe me. Now, either we hike up that skirt... orrrr I slice it off and put you in the hi-larious position of explaining to your family why it is you're rejoining them, half-naked."
She had no doubt he would make good on his threat, if the twinkle in his eyes was anything to go by.
"I-." She huffed, shaking her head. "Okay."
He watched her with hooded eyes as she pulled her skirt up and shimmied around on the counter, so it was bunched up around her waist, save for a small section beneath her bottom.
Note to self, bleach the sink after this is over with.
It occurred to her that this might not be the wisest decision. Letting Joker... letting him... while her family was... in the upstairs bathroom of all places...
But God if the look in his eyes wasn't egging her on. As was the knowledge that watching her shoot had revved him up so much. And maybe... maybe him calling her "my bunny" added to the delicious fray too.
"That-a girl," he praised, sucking in his bottom lip. "Let's take a look at you, hm?"
He crossed the distance between them and immediately slid his fingers over her panty-clad pussy. Her hands found his shoulders as he pressed into her once, then rubbed her mound back and forth, thumb digging circles over her clothed clitoris.
"Christ," she mumbled, burying her nose against his hair. "I don't think... I'll be able to keep... quiet."
She was embarrassed to admit this. The man was quickly become an enemy to her self-control.
"No need to fret, bunny," he murmured, stroking the back of her head. "I got us a solution."
He released her and took a step back.
Her eyes widened as he began to unbuckle his belt, all the while maintaining eye contact with her.
It was... hot. Hotter than it had a right being. And he knew it too. The smirk he wore could slice the skirt right off her.
"Mm, keep looking at me like that," he warned, yanking the belt out of its loops. "And I'll use this on your wrists instead. What a pretty picture you'd be. Bound to that towel rack above ya, no way to escape. Squirming and tugging and grinding as your grizzly bear mauled your helpless little pussy like it was a jar of honey."
She clamped down on her lip and looked away, knowing he'd follow through if she didn't. Part of her almost wanted to provoke him, wanted to gaze at him as hungrily as he gazed at her, just to see what would become of his self-control.
But now wasn't the time. Or rather, not at this present location.
God, I didn't even know I was into that. Being... tied up. It's... the way he's saying it. Man could make a bank statement sound sexy.
She brought her thighs together, massaging the slick tingle pulsing in her loins.
"You," he told her, wrapping his belt around his hand, "are gonna bite down on this. Consider it your... gag. And uh... feel free to bite hard. I wanna wear your teeth marks for the rest of the day."
Her breathing hitched as her fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. She wasn't sure if she could look at him without moaning.
"I wanna hear a 'yes Jack' from you, Cece. Can't reward a bunny with bad manners, can I?"
Swallowing tightly, she peeked at him from beneath her lashes.
"Y-yes Jack."
She was astounded at how submissive she sounded. The little growl that got trapped in his throat certainly didn't help lessen the feeling any.
He's... asserting authority in an unfamiliar environment. And... I'm letting him, so he feels welcome here. Screwed. I'm so, so screwed.
"Good girl," he rumbled, nearing her with rapidly darkening eyes. "We pride ourselves on learning lessons, don't we? So, pay close attention cos this'll be on your exam."
He lapped at both scars, gaze laying claim to her parted lips.
"Out there, you mighta bested me with that bow." He lifted the folded belt and brought it to her lips. "But in here, I'm in charge."
He must've known this would prompt some sort of remark from her. The second she opened her mouth to respond, he pushed the belt past her teeth.
"There." He released the belt, giving her a long, satisfied look. "Shame it's not carrot shaped; but ah, well, we'll add it to the shopping list."
Before she could speak, he grabbed her by the cheeks and covered her mouth with his own.
The belt prohibited his tongue from accessing hers, but that didn't seem to bother him in the least as he placed sharp little kisses on her lips before trailing his tongue over them like a starving dog.
"Mmm." He pulled back, studying the glistening skin. "Let's see if your other lips taste as good."
Her teeth sank into the soft leather as Joker spread her knees open and tugged her forward. She wasn't sure what to do with her hands, panicking a little as she searched for something to hold on to. There was no way in hell she could grasp at air. Though newly trimmed, she didn't put it past her nails to cut open her palms.
Joker knelt between her legs, gazing fondly at her panties. Specifically, the damp spot soaking through them. He palmed himself with a low, rumbly groan.
The heat of his breath was making her toes curl. Her hands shot into his hair before she could stop herself.
Arching a brow, Joker gazed up at her.
If she thought him removing his belt was hot, it paled in comparison to seeing him positioned in between her legs, peering up at her. And though he might've been below her, his eyes affirmed he was the one in control.
She briefly removed the belt from her mouth.
"Is... this okay?" she asked, squeezing his locks once.
"It's fine," he assured, brushing a scarred cheek against her inner thigh. "Just make sure to keep my roots attached. I wanna have some hair left by the time I'm through with you."
Nodding shakily, she bit down on his belt again. Oddly, this helped keep her nerves intact. Anytime she started to mentally reel at what was about to happen, her teeth took it out on the leather in her mouth.
Joker would be getting his wish for teeth marks, and then some.
"Mm," he observed, "if your family could see you now. Legs spread like some lewd sex doll. I really oughta thank them for helping raise such an obedient girl. Whaddaya think they'll accept? Flowers? Fancy chocolates? Gift card to Applebees?"
Celine breathed in harshly through her nose, swallowing back both a moan and a giggle. She tried to offer an input, but it came out a muffled mess.
Joker nipped at her thigh, then skimmed his nose over the mark.
"Music to my ears."
With her bottom hovering over the edge of the counter, Joker was able to make quick work of her panties. She was puzzled when he chose to pocket them, but that curiosity was short-lived.
"Ah," he murmured, eyeing her dripping core. "Now that's a sight I'll never tire of seeing."
Her fingers tightened on his locks as he arranged the backs of each thigh over his shoulders. This forced her to tilt backwards a little and spread her legs even wider than they already were. He'd alluded to her looking like a lewd sex doll, she certainly felt like it right then.
That he was taking complete command of the situation calmed her more than she could convey. As confident in herself as she was, receiving oral sex delved into entirely new territory. If Joker wasn't so overwhelmingly blunt in his eagerness, she was sure she'd be trying to talk him out of it.
No chance of that now. Man looks like he's going to start salivating any minute.
One of his hands had clamped around the outside of her thigh, securing her against him. The other neared her pussy. With index and middle finger, he slowly pushed into her, rotating both fingers in an attempt to coat them in as much slickness as possible.
"Mm," he grumbled, feeling her muscles grip onto him. "Just as I suspected. Greedy. I give you my cock three times, this morning alone, and it's still not enough to satisfy your weepy, demanding hole. Tsk-tsk-tsk, no self-restraint what...so...ever."
He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, eyes shooting up to her.
She could barely meet his unblinking gaze. The sensations bombarding her were too intense. His fingers sliding in just right, his voice low and husky, his words teasing and pervasive, and the heat... the heat in his eyes that seemed to both want to encircle and consume her.
To top that all off, the makeshift gag in her mouth made it impossible to counterargue his smart remarks. She could spit it out, but then there wouldn't be anything stopping the whimpers from bursting through. It was sinfully frustrating!
I need to... dictate some of this. Remind him... even though he excels at taking control, it's not his alone.
Joker was, at present, voraciously sucking at his fingers, all the while watching her through the hoods of his eyelids.
She tightened her grip on his locks, doing her best to hold him in place as he had done to her moments ago. With her free hand, she reached down and touched herself; reveling in the way his fingers vacated his mouth and his eyes instantly grew black, half with longing and half with fury.
He tried to lean forward, but she yanked him back before he could, brow rising as if to ask oh, did you want something?
This must have translated as he released a growl so rough and menacing, she briefly halted playing with herself.
"One day," he said, looking her dead in the eye, "I'm going to take you somewhere far, far away. And... I'm not ever going to return you."
She almost stopped breathing.
Usually, she could distinguish what was dirty talk from what was serious when they were engaged in foreplay. She knew he felt possessive of her, and that in the heat of the moment, it was an opportunity for him to spew those feelings out in a safe environment.
But this... this was uncharted territory. Shivers rocked her spine in response to his alleged vow. Her only source of comfort was to believe he was exaggerating. He had to be... right?
Joker spoke no further, breaking free of her hold and diving in between her legs.
She gasped into the gag as his tongue licked over her slit, mouth suctioning her pussy lips into opening for him. The fingers not grasping onto her thigh, re-buried themselves inside her.
Out of the gate, his assault was relentless, tongue lashing about at lightning speed. It ran over her folds, sank further into her hole and circled around, swirled hastily around her clit before sucking the tender bud into his mouth, releasing it, kissing it, and flicking it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue, as if to punish it for tasting so scrumptious.
It took everything in Celine to keep a hold of him, likening the experience to a mechanical bull that suddenly decided to tame the one riding it via cunnilingus. Her fingers kept sliding around in his locks, distorting his hair into a sweaty, untidy mess. She tried to tug him away a few times, just to catch a breather, but he refused to be deterred.
The fingers inside her pulled out, and suddenly both the edges of her thighs were clasped in his large, calloused hands. He forced his face even further into her, nose diving into the hood of her clit, grip on her ensuring no matter how much she tried to pull his head away, it wouldn't be soon removed. And each time she tried, he'd only smirk against her and increase the tempo.
The belt in her mouth proved a godsend, and was the only thing keeping her aunts downstairs from calling the police. She let out whimpers and cries and high-pitched noises that evaporated into silent screams. When he started humming forcefully against her, the vibrations made her grind her pussy against his mouth. Her thighs quaked as a result, a strangled gurgle coming to life and dying in her throat.
A handful of times, he'd grant her a temporary reprieve from his tongue, taking to scissoring her with soaked fingers and curling them up to brush against her G-spot. His skill was so exquisite that her body's only response was to produce more secretion. Something that now covered Joker's lower half of the face, and something he lapped at without shame.
When the orgasm finally began to approach, she was gazing deliriously at the ceiling with half-shut eyelids, Joker's head clutched against her cunt like she was trying to merge the two together. His short, sloppy grunts and consistent pace had her nails digging into his skull, throat stripped of sound.
It was a soft, then harsh stroke of his tongue on her clit that did her in. She bit into the belt so hard she wouldn't be surprised if her teeth met through the material. Joker kept lapping at her as she drenched his face, arms trembling in his hair, lightning speeding through her bloodstream.
Only when the orgasm subsided a minute later did she become aware of the wetness clinging to her cheeks. At some point, she'd actually released tears.
Joker took his sweet time licking her juices up, groaning unintelligible words to himself.
She sniffled once, trying to remove her legs from his shoulders, but unable to right away due to the cramped ache of holding them in position for so long. Not that he assisted her in anyway, hands still clasping her to him. It didn't appear as if he was done with her quite yet.
She did retract one hand from his hair, relieved to see her nails coated in sweat, but not blood. On a sunny day like today, she couldn't imagine it would feel very nice sporting cuts on the skull.
With a shaky hand, she removed the belt from her mouth.
"J-Jack?"
Her voice sounded as if it'd gone through a cheese grater.
Slowly, Joker leaned back, though not without landing a kiss against her semi-puffy lips.
"I-." She wasn't entirely sure what to say. "That was...fuck. Amazing."
He peeked up at her, lips twisting into a wicked smirk.
"What ah... makes you think I'm done?"
Her eyes widened. She glanced at the door, then back at him.
"You're not?" she nearly whimpered.
He rested a wet cheek against her thigh.
"You were being a very... naughty bunny," he reminded, nipping at her flesh. "Touching yourself without permission, not letting me near my honeypot."
Her eyes squeezed shut. So, there would be repercussions for that incident where she'd temporarily tried to assert control. Go figure.
"Stands to reason-." He started to nip up the apex of her thigh. "-it's not a reward you deserve, but a punishment."
This time, she did whimper.
"Jack," she tried to reason, running her fingers through his tangled hair. "That was- I- they're going to wonder what we're doing up here."
Joker shrugged, switching his nipping to her opposite thigh.
"Let 'em," was his casual answer.
She exhaled harshly, praying he wouldn't go anywhere nearer than what he was kissing now. The sensitivity in her pussy was so high that any air hitting it made her shudder.
"Please. I-." Swallowing her pride, she sighed. "I'm sorry."
His peeked up at her with raised brows.
"Yeah?"
"I should've been more... appreciative... of your reward."
He gauged her expression for a few seconds before snorting.
"Good," he accepted. "But you can do better."
The heat was slowly returning to his eyes. She needed to rid him of it before it was too late.
"Um... I'm really, really sorry? With... sprinkles and... cherries on top?"
He nuzzled her thigh, hiding his smirk.
"Mm, still could use some work," he mumbled. "But lucky for you, I'm choosing to be lenient. Just ah... go ahead and thank me. Say mmmm 'thank you, Jack, for showing me mercy'."
She rolled her eyes, highly tempted to smack him with the belt. However, one look at the boyish amusement in his gaze, and that urge was halted.
It's that dichotomy again. Joker speaking, but Jack looking at me.
"Thank you, Jack," she punctuated, keeping her indignation to a minimum, "for showing me mercy."
"Oh, it's my pleasure, Cece," he answered. "Not nearly enough people are aware of how... generous of a guy I am."
She pursed her lips, fighting back another roll of the eyes.
He threw one last fiery gaze at her pussy before removing her thighs from his shoulders and slowly standing.
She grimaced a little, rubbing her legs to get feeling back into them. The counter below her thankfully wasn't as soaked as she feared it'd be, Joker's mouth having absorbed most of her cum as well as a few spots saved by her skirt. Nevertheless, she was going to give it a hardy scrub down with bleach, soap, and water.
I can't believe that actually happened. I don't know that I'll be able to make eye contact with Aunt D or June. Or... anyone for that matter.
"Um-." She was cleaning herself up with some paper towel beside the sink. "-could I have my underwear back?"
Joker's gaze was glued to her hand, wiping up the mess he'd caused.
"Mm, no."
She froze.
"No?"
His eyes shot up to hers, a glint lurking in them.
"I said I'd be lenient, not that you'd escape punishment altogether. Your panties are staying in my pocket for the rest of the day."
She blinked, then laughed.
"Haha, very funny."
"Glad you think so," he grinned. "I was worried you'd be mad."
When he made no move to give back her undergarments, she covered her face with a hand and nearly screamed into it.
How the hell was he her soulmate again?!
I hated how Ch. 42 came out, so if you re-read it, you might notice some minor things altered - sentence structure, word choice, description, etc. Nothing major that throws off the chapter as it initially read, just touching up on more grammatical and stylistic things I wasn't so confident about. Every now and again, I re-read this entire story and edit accordingly. There's many flaws with my writing, and I've noticed one of the most glaring is my brain tends to fill words in in a sentence, but I don't actually write the word out. For example, "He took her by arms and held her closely." My brain fills in the "the" before "arms", so I assume it's there, but my bastard fingers don't actually type it in. This has made for some truly cringy re-reads, so many apologies for that, I'm always on the hunt for those sentences.
I had a commenter ask me about the nature of souls in this story, and I intended to post my response to that comment, here in this note, helping clarify things. However, upon second thought, I've decided to post that response in a future chapter.
xxx
Right now, I want to take the time to give you all a virtual hug. We tune in to the news and are paralyzed by so many events out of our control. Feeling helpless to help those suffering. I don't want to go too much into it as I know people regard fanficiton as escapism, and I want to retain this story as that safe space. Where goodness of the heart can prevail over the wicked.
All I'll say is... please help if you're able, those you can. Please stay safe those of you in unsafe situations. Hope is lost only when we give in to the cynicism, the helplessness, the idea that the evil deeds of the powerful speak for the majority. They do not.
Silly to say all this, I know, for someone who is personally in the grips of despair. But when moments of clarity reach me, I think I know this feeling is not permanent. I hope not anyway, and hope is nearly impossible to rid yourself of once its made a home in you.
There's a video that's always helped me regain hope, even if a little. It's the ending scene from Charlie Chaplin's first "talkie" film, The Great Dictator. FF won't let me post the link, so if you're curious, feel free to search for it on Youtube. If you've not seen it, I hope it soothes your spirit in these uncertain times.
xxx
Man, Joker is really a whirlwind, isn't he? Three cheers for Celine, who is doing her best to withstand the winds. Can't be all bad if getting eaten out in the bathroom of your aunt and uncle's house is a potential side-effect, can it? And was he serious when he threatened to take her away? Should our heroine be concerned? Will Marc stop being such a little shit? Will Martin stop clapping people on the back? Tune in next time to the Price is Ri- I mean, to MIFIRA!