Hi guys! Sorry it's been awhile since I updated. Ive been rethinking this story, turning over different ideas in my head. I hope everyone has been enjoying it so far - please leave your feedback, I would really appreciate anything you have to say :)
Much more JokerxLucy plot development in this one and soon enough John's first encounter with the Joker! Stay tuned!
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John had trouble eating, trouble sleeping, trouble doing anything except worry. It had been a week since Lucy's disappearance, and despite Alfred and Lucious' consoling words, he felt responsible for everything.
Ever since John had seen Lucy lying lifeless on the beach, he felt that she had been his responsibility. If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't be where she was now. It sounded selfish, sure, but deep down he knew all this must have been fate. And he was certain he could save Lucy from whatever she was struggling against.
After interviewing the nurse who was still shaken from the encounter, the girl described Lucy in a way that was unlike her; cold blooded, deceptive… insane.
Searching for Lucy was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Lucy knew how to stay hidden if she didn't want to be found- and so far that's exactly what she had done. The tracking beacon on her suit had been deactivated- the last ping had been at the old hospital the police found her at. Instead of looking for Lucy, John knew he needed to track down one of the two men she would be searching for.
The Joker, of course, knew how to disappear as well. As badly as John wanted to rip him limb from limb, he had been dangerously quiet since Halloween. Instead, he took to searching for Carmine Falcone. Speaking to the commissioner about Gordon's conversation with Lucy, John was certain that she was out for Falcone's blood. Finally, a week after her disappearance, he finally had a promising lead on his whereabouts.
Following a drug bust John had snatched up an unsuspecting mobster for questioning. He was a low ranked crook but had some valuable information nonetheless… dangling the man off the side of a building had done the trick. Gravity was a powerful ally.
Apparently The Penguin had done a decent job rebuilding the city's criminal enterprise. With an allied force of escaped convicts doing his grunt work, the mob had a new and improved criminal flair. The Penguin was odd, to say the least, and ran an unorthodox operation.
However, according to the man, loyalists of the traditional ways of organized crime were hard to stomp out, refusing to acquiesce to the new system. The man had whimpered about a growing feud between the old and new groups of organized crime… something about Falcone's imminent return into the spotlight during an upcoming celebration.
John could think of no better place to reappear into the crimincal underground than at the 75th anniversary of the Gotham Italian-American Organization (GIAO). A party in its honor was being held at the GIAO's original clubhouse just outside of the Narrows. The clubhouse was hosting a traditional dinner and a jazz show. The establishment was tucked in between outdated neighborhoods that had once housed the first immigrants from Italy and Ireland. The area was not as unsafe as the narrows, but certainly not a place to be out and alone at night.
Making a few adjustments to his bike in the batcave, he looked over to Lucy's beat up motorcycle. He decided not to fix it after her disappearance. It was symbolic of the fact that she was still gone, and in many ways, just as broken. He wasn't sure if he'd find her there, but it was worth a shot.
. . . . . . . . . .
It was much easier to style my hair now that it had all been cut off. With a little hairspray and a few barrett's, I could pass for Audrey Hepburn.
Disappearing back into the city was easier than I thought. I had a new sense of freedom and fearlessness. Moving into a small room in Chinatown above a hot pot restaurant I helped the owners, an older couple from Hong Kong, prep for daily service in exchange for rent. Despite knowing very little Cantonese, they took a liking to me quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Kwan had daughters living abroad, so having another woman take one of their spare rooms was comforting.
As I fiddled with my hair, I thought about the night ahead of me. Tonight was the Italian American celebration at the old club house. I remember being there when I was young. Memories of cigar smoke, martinis, dressed down men with dressed up women, gold chains and greasy hair. Whether or not my father would be there, I was ready to make a scene. Make my move. Introduce a little… chaos.
I thought of the Joker's body pressed against mine, his lips working their way down my neck, undressing me…
I shook my head. No. Not now. I needed a clear mind for tonight.
It was nearly 7:00 pm as I walked down the stairs and into the hot pot restaurant. Mrs. Kwan insisted I try on some of her daughter's clothes for the "birthday party" I was to attend tonight. They were too kind and caring for their own good. I hoped their daughters knew how lucky they were to have parents like that.
"Aiya!" Explained Mr. Kwan, who had turned the corner to deliver some fresh tripe and tofu skins to a table. Mrs Kwan, hearing the commotion, ran over to the stairs. "Oh, Michelle! You look-ah so beautiful!" she said, her eyes admiring the dress I had picked out from her oldest daughter's things. It was a red Qipao that must have been a decade old. But they were coming back into style, so it would work for an event like tonight.
I smiled and nodded my head.
"Thank you, Auntie" I said politely - an endearing term she had asked me to call her. She smiled back at this.
One of their male waiters had also caught a glance at me and had just missed falling over Mr. Kwan's plate of food. Scolding the boy in Cantonese, he quickly ducked back into the dining room apologetically.
"We need to find you a husban'!" Mrs. Kwan chided. "You getting too old! Such a pretty face!" She was a very straightforward woman. I liked that.
"Maybe someday" I said, throwing on a winter coat and heading to the door.
"You need money for cab?" Mrs. Kwan asked, walking me to the door.
"No no, I'll be fine. Thank you" I said with a smile. She patted me on the shoulder and watched me walk towards the main road, flagging down a taxi. Before long I was out of sight.
. . . . . . . . . .
I had the cab drop me off at a bar close to the Italian American club. It would be too suspicious for me to show up without a date and I knew that there would be a few stragglers around the area, getting some liquor in them before the real party began. Italians were all about their "happy hour".
As the cab dropped me off, I adjusted what I had been hiding in my jacket pocket for a few days now. February 1st was the Chinese Lunar New Year - the next year being the year of the Tiger. Luckily for me, decorative Tiger masks were cheap in Chinatown and exactly what I needed to make an impression. Tiger's Eye would live on as my alias… just in a slightly different form. I hoped the mask would do me justice later tonight.
The bar was dimly lit and littered middle aged men; exactly the type of greasy haired, big bellied folks I had assumed would be there. An excellent place to pick up a date.
My heels clicked and I walked towards the bar and took an empty seat. Right on cue as if part of a film noir, the man behind the bar walked over to me while he was cleaning a glass.
"What can I get you, miss?" he said in a raspy city accent that reminded me of my childhood. I hid the anger that surged within me and smiled politely. As my lips parted I barely got a word out.
"One martini and whatever this beautiful young lady wants," said a man from behind me. I turned to look at him. Twice my age and balding. He looked rich, important and was definitely going to the celebration. So I played along.
"Make that two martinis," I said politely. The bartender nodded and pulled out two fresh glasses.
The middle aged man motioned to the bar stool next to me and I nodded. Taking the seat, he cleared his throat.
"I haven't seen you around here, miss. New to the area? I hope you aren't here all alone…a place like this isn't safe for a young lady like yourself."
"My date stood me up" I lied. "He promised we would go to the Italian American Club for dancing and jazz… Now I'm not sure what to do…"
"Don't worry sweetheart" he said as our drinks arrived, "I'll get you in.. as long as you'll save a dance for me" he said with a wink, holding up his glass to mine. I smiled, nodded and did the same.
However, as I put the glass to my lips, it was quickly yanked away.
I gasped as I watched another man down the glass, placing it back on the table.
"There you are, doll face"
The voice didn't match the man's body. I watched a slender, well dressed man with a handsome jawline lick away a stray drip of alcohol from his lips. The tongue gave him away.
My eyes widened.
Well dressed, clean shaven and scars hidden under a fresh set of skin colored foundation, there he stood. In disguise. Strikingly handsome. Far from the terrifying face that I had gotten used to. It was the Joker.
He grabbed my arm, pulling me abruptly from the seat.
"Excuse me!" the balding man said, standing. "Just who do you think you are?!"
I stared at him, also hoping for an explanation.
"The better question is who are you? This little lady isn't old enough to be in this fine establishment-ah."
The old man gulped nervously, staring me down.
"You wouldn't want to be caught boozing up a gal your daughter's age, eh?" The Joker said, raising an eyebrow. Fixing his hat on his head, the man took his leave, mumbling something as he went.
As he left, I made eye contact with the Joker. I didn't know whether or not I was more surprised to see him or upset that he was interrupting my plans.
"How old do you think I am?!" I hissed.
He rolled his eyes and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me towards the front of the room.
"Stop!" I yelled, raising my voice a little too loud. People were starting to stare and that's when I felt the knife poking at my side.
"Stop, you're… too much!" I said, faking some kind of awkward laugh until I was certain we wouldn't become the center of attention.
"Don't want to ruin your pretty little getup, but you're testing my patience" he said, tightening his grip on me and pulling me towards the door. I stumbled over myself but his grip was firm.
Walking me down the stairs of the bar, a limousine was waiting for us out front. I could have laughed at the change in scenario but he beat me to the punchline.
"Sorry, no getaway van this time. Fresh out of those" he said, opening the door and throwing me into the backseat. He crawled his way in, slamming the door behind him and pounding on the hood to signal to the driver to start moving.
Finally I was able to take a good look at him. He seemed to be giving me a similar up and down. I wasn't sure if he was ginning or sizing me up. I was certainly not used to his new disguise. He looked too… normal. A lion hiding in sheep's clothing. Maybe this is why Ted Bundy was able to get away with murder for so long. Attractive psychopaths had a dangerous edge.
"Well, well, well. Look at you. All grown up" he said, knife still very close to my naked arms.
Shit. I thought. I left my mask and jacket in the bar.
"What are you doing? Let me go, you're ruining my plans!"
"Oh Lucy…" he said, feigning disappointment. "I thought you'd be excited to see me! What happened? Didn't like our little rendezvous in the hospital?" He grinned mischievously as he inched closer to me.
Flustered, I raised my hand to strike him.
The action set him off like a firecracker. In an instant he was pinning me down on the seat with his weight.
"You thought I'd just disappear after all that? No, no, no. We're just getting started, my dear."
I could feel my dress starting to rip at the slits of the legs. For that reason, I decided to stop struggling.
"Okay, so what do you want then" I said, staring him down.
He tilted his head, licking his lips. Finally having my attention he adjusted his grip on me.
"You and me toots are going to say hello to your good ole' daddio"
That riled me up again and it seemed to amuse him as a high pitched giggle escaped from his teeth.
"I'm the one who is going to kill him. Stay out of this."
The Joker rolled his eyes and sat up, pulling his weight off of me. The limousine had come to a stop. I could only assume it was in some dark alley tucked away in the Narrows.
"You're way too predictable, Luce" he said, "and please tell me you weren't going to go storming into old Napoli with that cheap tiger mask. I would have lent you a clown masks instead... much more intimidating"
I was about to question him how he knew all this - but I knew better. It was the Joker. He had eyes everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if he had slipped the Kwans a few hundred dollars to keep an eye on me.
"I'm going to kill him. No one is going to stop me. Not even you" I said. I could feel a fire raging behind my eyes. Maybe it was the tone of my voice, or the fact that I found myself inching closer to him, but for once, the Joker was taking me seriously.
"Okay, so let's say you kill him. And then what?"
I realized his knife was still out, as he began caressing the bare skin of my leg with it nonchalantly. It sent shivers up my spine.
"Death only happens once Luce… but suffering… oh, suffering can last so much longer…."
Slowly, I realized he was sliding the knife up my leg. Inching closer towards my inner thigh. I was too proud to back down, knowing that I had made the move towards him this time.
"If I had had the chance, Luce, I would have let my father suffer. I would have taken the time to enjoy every…single… one of his little emotions. Ever wonder why I use a knife, Lucy?"
The knife was gliding dangerously close to my inner thigh, but I didn't break eye contact with him. I knew he was toying with me, testing me. His motives were never based off of simple human emotions. Not even lust. His pleasure came from watching me wade through uncomfortable situations such as this. Slowly pushing me towards madness.
I felt the knife cut the skin of my thigh, and as I tried to let out a scream, he wrapped his hand around my neck. I felt the warm blood dripping down my leg. My dress has finally ripped slightly and the seams were coming undone.
"Now, this is familiar, don't you think?" he said, licking his scar and watching me helplessly squirm.
My body was burning up with conflicting feelings.
In an instant he was off me and I was gasping for air.
"I'm doing this for your own good, Luce," he said, smoothing out his dark blue suit and jacket. "You're still thinking like them. Methodical… serious… scheming. No more of that… You want to just kamikaze your way into the joint? Die in honor? No, gorgeous, that's not how we do things. We're different, you and I."
With that he wiped the blood away from my leg and licked it from his fingers. Handing me his knife, he held it tightly around my hands. I was dizzy from the push and pull of my emotions. Only minutes ago I was ready to take on the world… Now I felt like I could easily melt from the heat of his body.
"I'm going to show you what Gotham's finest class of criminals can really do… and it'll just… blow your mind" he said, grinning through his slightly whiter, but still fairly yellow teeth.
