Well, here you go! I thought I'd try and just give this to you early because my updates suck :) Thanks super much to those of you who reviewed. My heart warmed at your comments :] I hope you like this and don't forget to review and let know what you think. Also, if you don't like the way the Joker is written, say something in that review! I'm never sure and it sure was a bitch to write!
-4-
Waking up from a good dream sucks. Waking up from bad dream isn't all that fun. Waking up from a nightmare where you're being killed by multiple, smeared faces is a relief, but if no one's there to comfort you, you're left feeling alone and vulnerable and paranoid. And not even the comfort that my room usually provides is enough to make me feel any better.
Taking deep breaths, I massage my temples, praying for something to set my mind straight. A sideway glance lets me know it's a quarter after four and that I have work at nine. And, of course, it's Thursday. Like I really need to be sleep deprived today of all days.
Giving up on the possibility of falling back to sleep moments later, I remove the thin sheets off of my dirty body and make my way to the kitchen. Barely entering the living room, I feel a draft and looking up, I see that my balcony doors are wide open and there is a figure crouched ominously on the ledge.
Being the sensible adult I am, I screamed bloody murder. It was more from shock than actual fear but right now, I don't think it really matters.
"Who are you, what the fuck are you doing in my house!" I all but screeched at the unknown character, clutching the fabric of my nightgown closer to me and trying to calm my bouncing heart.
"I heard you screaming," a deep raspy voice answered. The figure stepped down off the ledge and came in to my apartment - in to my apartment.
"I wasn't screaming," I snapped before taking a fearful step backward, only to have the back of my thighs hit the arm of the couch, "and you didn't answer my question. Who are you?"
In spite of the lighting situation, I began to make out his figure. It made me feel immensely better that it was in fact a man. Well, not that I should be happy that it's a man but at least it's not something supernatural, at least it is someone who can die. Not that I'm going to kill him or anything, it's just nice to know that it's possible. And like most men I know, he's also extraordinarily tall and buff which is obvious even without the black rubber outfit. With his cape billowing and face half covered by an odd mask, I briefly wondered how the hell things like this happen to me.
He was too close for my liking and without taking my gaze off of him; I sidestepped the couch and continued to walk another step back, wary.
"You're new in town, aren't you?" he asked, voice still low and keeping me on edge. "And you were screaming."
"Even if I was screaming that doesn't give you the right to break into my apartment and check it out for yourself!" I continued to snap. Of course, it was as the sentence left my mouth that I realized who this was and why my sentence sounded so dumb. I deadpanned. "You're the Batman, aren't you?"
He didn't bother to answer, just took a step back and surveyed my apartment. Though I couldn't see his eyes because of his cowl, I somehow knew that he was judging my apartment, which, in all honesty, is actually really nice right now, very professional and clean. Unfortunately, he could probably judge me on that as well.
"Is there anything else?" I snapped, feeling awkward and losing patience.
"Are you Chase Stark?" he suddenly asked.
Yeah, as this wasn't awkward enough, now he asks what my name is. Better yet, he already knew my name!
"Yes," I answered after a moment, figuring it would be best to just give him what he wanted. "Why?"
"Dr. Chase Stark, recently employed at Arkham Asylum?"
Gritting my teeth, I say, "Yes. Would you give me a moment?"
Without waiting for an answer, I turn and head towards the kitchen. Through my frustration and anger, I accidently made a lot of clatter as I searched for the alcohol, in particular, the scotch. I really shouldn't drink, especially with work tomorrow, but why the hell not; I'm having nightmares, I can't go back to sleep, and a vigilante is stalking me. I think I deserve some peace and if alcohol is the way, then I'll walk the path.
After a good few moments of searching, I found the clear bottle and grabbed a glass. I quickly poured some into the thick, block-like glass and took a hearty swig. The liquid burned my throat as it went down but I quickly poured another before stowing the bottle away. Immediately, I felt the alcohol begin its course. I felt so much more relaxed and uninhibited.
Returning to the living, I see that the Batman is watching me curiously, if only a little exasperated. Somehow, this doesn't bother me as much as it did earlier.
"Did you need me for something?" I ask, not in the least bit curious. "Because it is a bit odd that you know my name and you're still standing in my apartment."
"Commissioner Gordon informed me about you is all." I rolled my eyes at this, more miffed than him.
"Well if that is all, then maybe you should get going. Aren't there other damsels in distress that you can rescue?" I took a careful swig and kept my eyes on him, which strained my neck a considerable amount.
He continued to look at me, his jaw set and no doubt even more annoyed with me. It was almost enough to make me squirm and rather it's because of the alcohol or my paranoia, I found myself feeling guilty. I probably shouldn't have snapped at him, he was only trying to help, but this whole thing just doesn't suddenly fit into my day. It really doesn't. My life is for the most part normal, to the point of being kind of boring. That's just how it is.
Without another word, he began to walk back to the ledge. Feeling that guilt, the kind I don't think I should be feeling, I try to think of something, of anything, to put myself in a better light.
"You could use the front door."
Of course, what I could come up with would be completely stupid.
He paused to look at me and then said, "Good luck at work."
And then he was gone, leaving me alone and confused and with only a bit of liquor.
"Damn."
Entering the small room, I thought that I would have a second to take in his full aura. The first "meeting" wasn't much and although I didn't exactly know it was him, I was really hoping that this first evaluation would work just fine. Like, I wouldn't be affected in some way besides from the pressure.
Unfortunately, it didn't go that way. I had just opened the door and he was staring my way. Just flat out staring with this demented, lopsided grin on his face. I stood stiffly for a moment; face deadpanned, unsure of what to do. I stared back for a moment before stepping into the room and carefully shutting the door behind me.
Before sitting, I looked into the camera that was set up in the corner. The red light was on and though that didn't provide much comfort, it let me know that some standard was set for safety – which really doesn't seem to be much.
"Hello," I greeted, voice sounding a lot more stoic than usual. It's the alcohol.
"Good mornin-g," he responded, watching me with those dark eyes as I sat down across from him. I tried not to notice the intensity behind the gaze and tried to focus on my objective, which unfortunately is so vague, I doubt anyone will ever accomplish it.
He sounded exactly the same as he did the last time we talked. Just as insincere and odd. I made a quick note of it and rubbed the back of my neck to calm my nerves.
"Rough night?" he breathed out, causing a shiver to run up my spine. Looking up from my notepad, I realize the close proximity and set my jaw subconsciously in annoyance.
Sighing more to myself than at the comment, I sit up and catch his gaze and smile lightly. "Now, now, I should be the one asking questions."
"Why, of course. You are the doc-tor." He giggled at his own comment, and again, I made note of it.
"I guess my first question should be how you're being treated here at Arkham."
"That was-n't a question."
I made note of his avoidance of answering while rephrasing my question in question form.
"It's fine, though the, uh, fo-od could be better." He smacked his lips and I watched briefly as he began to trace the inside of his mouth, along his scars. "Also, these straitjackets could be a bit loos-ser."
"They're administered that way for a reason, Mr. Joker."
"Just Joker, puh-lease, I really do hate formalities." I made another note and when I looked up, his beady eyes were searching my uniform. "Chase, is it?"
"I'd rather go by Dr. Stark," I say, allowing my professional exterior to become more prominent.
"That is a love-ly fleur-de-lis you – uh, have there, doctor," he suddenly said, motioning with his head towards the chain around my neck. Following his gaze, I see the charm and try to keep my face impassive as I look up to meet his gaze.
"Thank you. It was a gift."
"Husband?" I quirked an eyebrow at the question and he mimics my reaction. "Boyfriend then?"
"Friend," I corrected.
"A good friend?"
"Very." My annoyance was a bit more evident in this small adjective.
I made note of his observation and ability to avoid the subject of titles.
"Tell me, Joker, why did you pinpoint my necklace?"
"Because, it's 'round your ne-ck."
"And what makes my neck so fascinating?"
"It's just so-ooo, long and pale. The skin looks so smooth and clean. You must moist-u-rize it daily, I can, uh, tell." At this, he let out a deep sigh and lifted his gaze from the chain to my face. "But the best part, is that I can just imagine my hands wrap-ping around it, and squeezing until you're no longer breathing. Ah, I just hear your gasp-s now."
As he talked, his voice became more gruff and eager; almost like he was becoming sexually aroused by the thought of strangling. Possibly sadomasochistic?
My pen scribbled almost recklessly across the page as I noted everything about the conversation that I could put into words. My lack of reaction must not have pleased him because when I finally looked back up, he was glaring. And he continued to glare. In response, all I could do was look back.
"Is something wrong?" I asked after a moment, doing my best to keep calm, more or less to just completely annoy him.
His head dropped lower, reminding me of a dog about to strike, and after a moment, he grinned at me with his yellow tinged teeth. It would normally be very unsettling and it kind of was, but it didn't affect me in the fashion that he wished because then he was pouting at me.
"You really are no fun."
"I'm not here to have fun; I'm here to do my job."
Later than I had anticipated, I returned to my office and took to lounging at my desk. An odd tension was in my stomach and it took me a moment to realize that I was hungry. Looking at my clock, I understood why. It was 4:30 and I had skipped lunch.
Gosh, had I really been in there for three hours? Three hours of nothing but me and Joker time? So very odd.
There was a knock at my door before it opened to reveal Chris. He was wearing a huge grin and he seemed more than enthused about something.
"That was amazing!" he finally exclaimed, stepping closer to my desk. "No one's lasted that long and you did so well!"
"Thank you, thank you," I mocked playfully in a deep voice. But then I felt myself fall back into my reserve, as did Chris' face when he noticed.
"Are you all right, Chase?" he asked after a moment, placing his hands in his pockets and lips dropping to a frown.
"Yeah, just…" I fought for the right words that wouldn't reveal too much, "I had a rough night."
"Care to explain?"
"Not really." He quirked a dark eyebrow and took a seat in one of the available, mandatory chairs. I smiled at him fondly before I took to rubbing the back of my neck.
"I received a strange visitor late last night." He continued to stare, expectantly. "It was the Batman."
"Well, you sure know who to pick 'em." I glared as he began to laugh. "I'm only joking!"
"It's not funny! It's scared the crap out of me, and then he wouldn't even leave!" My annoyance just made him laugh harder and I took to glaring.
"Oh, Chase, don't be like that. You have nothing to worry about." His attempt to sooth me didn't help and I continued to glare.
"What's worse was that he knew it was me! He knew who I was."
"You really don't have to be so nervous about him," he cut in, his laughter finally leaving him. "He visited me too when I first started working here."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. He just showed up one day at my house in the middle of the night and took to talking to me, sorting me out. Lucky for me, my wife was still sleeping. She probably would have started screaming and brandishing the bat." This made me laugh and I took a moment to relish in the fact that I wasn't the only one.
"That's better. Now do you have any plans for the weekend? I recommend plenty of R&R."
Rolling my eyes, I say, "Yeah, my friend Maegen is coming back into town and we'll end up shopping and catching up. Other than that, I'll probably organize and do nothing."
"Sounds about right," he stood up from my chair and stretched briefly before continuing. "Well, I'll see you Monday. Be safe, you don't need another visit from that bat."
"Yeah, yeah." As soon as his back was turned, I dropped my smile and drooped further into my leather chair. I didn't expect for him to look back.
"Are you sure you're all right?" I snapped up in my seat at the sudden question and tried to calm down enough to give a sensible answer.
"Well," I leaned forward to place my chin in my palm while trying to think of the appropriate words, "Let's just say," I catch his gaze out of habit, "It's a good thing I'm drunk."