Chapter Thirteen

Some Other Time and Place

Jack's POV

A week had passed by since Dainty and I had demolished the kitchen table with our passionate lovemaking, and we hadn't made love since that night because Violet started her period shortly after that and had promptly grown self-conscious and unwilling for me to even hint that I was going to be intimate with her. I had gone without sex, well, sex with another person, for periods that extended much longer than a week, but I'd never missed intimate contact as much as I did at now, and I could have cried with happiness when I discovered that today was the day, the curse was lifted, and I was going to be getting busy with my ladylove tonight.

It was a messy and painful process, one that had been beyond my understanding, but during this week I had learned that it was truly a cruel burden placed upon women, and I was thankful that I didn't have to personally endure the cramps, the bloating and most especially, the bleeding from a place that's suddenly off-limits to a man who has grown very attached to that area. I have to wonder if women refer to this time as their period to signify "period of suffering" or "period of no nookie", both of which are painful to every man who is personally involved, and affected by the process.

Anyhoo, I was very much looking forward to the...ahem...extracurricular activities that I had planned with my Dainty that night, and I had gone the extra mile throughout the day to be as romantic as I could be, wooing my sweet baby girl, prepping for the lovemaking that night with kisses and caresses, sweet nothings and significant words of love and fidelity whispered into my Dainty's ear. Shameless self-promotion, yes, it is true, but I reasoned that I had to kindle the fire throughout the day, assuring that I would be able to stoke an all-consuming fire within her that would keep us wrapped up in one another all through the night.

There had been a little sadness for me with the arrival of Dainty's monthly, as bad as the timing was at the moment, because a secret part of my soul had been hoping for there to be a baby, my baby, growing within her womb, but I suppose that it was for the best that I hadn't managed to impregnate her, not with all of the problems hanging over us and the danger that circled us all day, every day. The meaner side of my persona whispered to me that I had no business being a husband, let alone a father, after all, what did I know about loving and nurturing... but I knew better. I knew that I had the potential inside of me to be both a good and doting husband and father, when the time was right; at least, I hoped I did.

We were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner, and I looked over at the space that our table had occupied with fondness, replaying each moment of our time on that tabletop, and I in the end I had to force my mind back to the chore at hand with a good deal of reluctance, lest I get carried away with the memory and be forced to ravish my Dainty right then and there. She was washing a plate, staring off into space, and it startled me to realize that her eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked, turning her so that I could put my arms around her. She rubbed her face against my chest and let go of her tears, sobbing softly as I tried in vain to comfort her, each shudder and hiccup tearing through my heart. I don't know if there was anything more painful to me than to see my sweet baby girl cry, and if there was, I hoped that I never had to experience that pain. "Please don't cry, Violet. Please tell me what I need to do to make you happy."

She rubbed her hands against my back, consoling me, knowing that it was destroying me to see her in tears. "Did I ever tell you how close Poppy and I were when we were younger?" she asked, her face still buried against my chest.

That was a surprise to me, as a matter of fact it was damn near impossible for me to imagine that her and her sister had ever had any tolerance for one another, let alone a friendship. "She was more of a mother to me than my own mother ever was," she continued, her voice growing choked as she spoke of her mother and her sister, and I could see how the lack of motherly love would be unbearable for any child, especially a daughter. "She protected me as much as was possible. She was the center of my entire world, the foundation for the person I was, and whether or not my life served any purpose whatsoever. I never had any reason to believe that she would hate me one day, that she'd sell me out for a man who had tossed her over for someone he believed to be better than she was."

I didn't know what I could say at that point that would amount to anything more than useless murmuring, so I stayed quiet, leading her over to one of the kitchen chairs and taking a seat, pulling her onto my lap and running my hand gently through her hair, encouraging her to continue.

"Rizzuto had dumped Poppy for a younger woman, devastating her, destroying her hopes and dreams and making her seem more and more pathetic with each passing day. She told me on that horrible day that she was going to go to his warehouse, that she was going to win him back, and I begged her not to go. I knew that she was very drunk and that he would hurt her in some way, I knew that he was capable of damaging her irreparably. She went anyway and I followed her, but I got stopped for speeding and I arrived at Rizzuto's warehouse too late to stop him from raping my sister."

She paused for a moment, and took a deep breath to steady herself before continuing. "I'd heard her screaming for help as I'd run inside and when I saw what he'd done to her, I just lost it completely. I grabbed a box cutter that was lying on a table by the door and I ran for him, pulling him off and out of my sister, and I just started cutting him. I wanted to cut off that part of his body that had debased my sister, and for a moment it seemed that I would achieve my goal, but all I got in the end was one of his balls."

Let me interrupt here for just a moment to share a few of the thoughts that were racing through my head. The first was that no matter how much a man deserved castration, it was always going to be a topic of conversation that caused any man hearing the words to grimace and cross his legs at the idea of any part of his manhood being sliced off of his body. Secondly, I wondered how something like that could have escaped my notice when I saw Rizzuto being...ahem… intimate...with Francesca. I suppose the answer was that I was more concentrated on her anatomy...I'm such a pig...and so I failed to notice that Tony was operating as a one-balled wonder.

..."I had called the cops from outside the warehouse when I arrived," she continued, her voice taking on an odd monotone that I'd never heard before. "They pulled me away from Rizzuto before I had the chance to finish what I'd started, and my sister chose that moment to start screaming like a banshee and accuse me of attacking Tony for no good reason. Of course, there was irrefutable evidence stacked against me, but she knew what had happened just as well as I did, and she lied...in a desperate and pathetic attempt to convince the bastard who had just raped her to take her back, she threw her baby sister to the wolves."

She was sobbing again by this time, and though it was killing me to have to watch her and hear her, to be stabbed by the pain coursing through her, I made myself stay strong, to give her my shoulder, my hands, my chest, anything she needed to get through this memory. She had to flush it out of her heart, her mind, and her soul in order for the healing to begin, and I knew that no matter how her tears hurt me, they were necessary if she was to her exorcise her demons.

"If it hadn't been for the support of my attorney, Henry Hale, I would have just been killed," she said her voice growing a little stronger as anger joined in the gamut of emotions that were coursing through her. "He made sure that I received as fair a trial as Rizzuto and his far-reaching influence would allow. If it was left up to that monster I would have got one behind the ear, following a beating and a violation, more than likely. The reason I was sent to Arkham was because that sadistic monster King and his goons were on Tony's payroll. You should have heard the performance my sister gave on the witness stand. Had it been seen and heard by the people in Hollywood, she probably would've hooked herself a primo acting gig. I was sent to Arkham, anticipating at any moment to have my throat sliced or to be raped and/or beaten, but just my luck, they put me in a cell next to a guy that painted his face and sang to me all of the time."

I wasn't sure whether she regarded that meeting as a positive thing to begin with, but then she raised her face and smiled tremulously at me, showing me that she was just teasing me.

"And it was just my luck that they put this chick in the cell next to me, and of course, she instantly finds me irresistible...staring at me all the time, trying to catch a peek at my studly physique by watching me through a hole in the wall...definite stalker with a potentially fatal attraction towards me."

She laughed; a delicate snort escaping that caused her to blush. "They didn't know what they were doing, putting me next to you, or they never would have done it," she said, reaching a hand out to twine her fingers tightly with mine. "They put me right into the path of a man who was waiting to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. You were there to love me, to heal me, and to complete me, and in so many different ways you were my deliverance, and for that I owe them a thank you, although for nothing else, because if they hadn't thought that it would be a cruel punishment, I never would have known you."

I had learned many years before that tears were dangerous, they drew the attention of predators quicker than anything else, so needless to say I was surprised to feel the warmth trickling down my cheeks, running soothingly over the puckered flesh at the corners of my mouth, before continuing their trek to drip down onto my shirt. Her love for me was more complete than I ever thought would be possible for a twisted weirdo like myself, and the trust and the faith that she placed in me, on me, were humbling and heartening. I clasped her to my chest, sobs choking me as I rocked her back and forth, and what had started as a healing for her became a restorative for each of us.

We stayed that way for a time that may have been minutes, or hours, I don't know, and as we calmed a funny observation popped into my mind, and I felt compelled to share it with her.

"Your parents must have foreseen your future behavior when they named you," I said, smiling as confusion took hold of her face. "If you put an N between the E and the T, then your name would be Violent...pretty cool, huh?"

Violet's POV

I was torn between the feelings of being completely worn-out emotionally and the sensation that an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders, affording me with an overall lightheartedness and a sense of being happy and at peace. It was the first time in my life that I could remember that I wasn't scared of what was ahead of me, because I had Jack, and I knew that there was nothing and no one that could hurt me as long as I had him by my side.

We had moved from the kitchen to the living room and were cuddled up together on the couch, me still on his lap, with Tootsie curled up on the cushion next to us. Jack seemed more content now that I wasn't crying, but there were still shadows of worry in his eyes, and I remembered that there had been something he'd wanted to speak to me about after Poppy's visit the week before, but I had been more than a little preoccupied at the time when he'd wanted to talk, and I'd convinced him to wait. The days that followed had been filled with cramps and bloating, not to mention just feeling icky from head-to-toe, and he had wisely avoided any subject that didn't deal with rubbing my aching back or bringing me something, anything with chocolate in it. It was a divine miracle that I hadn't packed on ten pounds when you took into account how many brownies I'd snarfed down, but I'd survived the curse once more, untouched except for the little ache of loss that I'd suffered when I knew that any hope I'd been holding onto for a baby was gone with that first cramp that had laced through my tummy.

"What's got you so upset tonight, Sweetie?" I asked quietly, reaching my hand up to rub against his cheek, turning his head so that he was looking at me. "I hope you know that there's nothing that you've done that would stop me from loving you."

His eyes widened and he nuzzled his cheek against my palm, almost seeming as though he needed to feel my hands against his scars, an action that usually made him uncomfortable at best, and when he was already edgy, could make him almost confrontational. He'd been holding me in his arms, nestled into the comforting warmth and strength that they provided, and he tightened his hold on me to a point that was almost painful, the obvious need to feel me against him showing that he was feeling insecure.

"Maybe you should wait, ahem, until after I tell you what I've done to say that," he whispered, the timbre of his voice becoming more stilted and childlike, telling me that it wasn't only my Jack who was in the room with me. It was difficult at times, knowing that this killer personality shared the same body with the man that I loved, but I'd had to face the facts that if I was going to be with Jack, if I was truly going to love him as my man and as my soul mate, I had to acknowledge that I shared that love with the Joker as well. I laughed with him, cried with him, shared a home and a bed with him, and I made love to him as well. So whatever had been done, whatever secrets Jack shared with the clown, I knew that I had to forgive both of them, or my acceptance of Jack would be incomplete.

"I don't have to wait to tell you," I answered, leaning forward to kiss him softly. "The love is there, will always be there, and it is strong enough to withstand anything. So please tell me what it is that's bothering you so much."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his arms around me tightening once more, just briefly, before he dropped his hold on me and settled back against the couch. "Three years ago I stole five hundred thousand dollars from a mob fool named Anthony Rizzuto. I figured that I was, ah, very clever and that it was no great loss to anyone that one criminal robbed another criminal of his ill-gotten gains. He never found out that I was the one who robbed him, and I just assumed that it was a clean break for me, that I'd never have to answer to anyone for what I'd done, but then one day you came to Arkham, and I knew that my actions had finally come back to haunt me. I felt like my punishment was to know that you'd been hurt by him and that maybe it was payback for what I'd done."

"Oh, Sweetie," I whispered, running my hand back behind him to rub the tightened muscles in his neck. "That wasn't something that you caused to happen, and it certainly wasn't your fault."

He raised his hand and placed his fingertip against my lips, shushing any other words that I might have spoken. "I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, and it was an emotion that I'd thought was off-limits to me. See, ah, I'd lusted after women before, I'd even explored that lust with some of them, but I'd never really felt that lightening in my soul, that clenching of my heart. There wasn't much that could be done to Rizzuto inside the nuthouse, but once we were out, once we were all free, I decided that it was time that Rizzuto felt what it was like to be scared, just like he'd scared you, the girl that I love."

It was a little frightening to hear him speak in this way, not knowing which of them was the dominant personality at the moment, knowing that both Jack and the clown were struggling for control, but I realized that if I was really going to stick it out with him, I'd have to get used to the occasional visit from the Joker.

"Jelly Belly Romaro was the first pawn in my plan to bring Rizzuto down, one peg at a time. It was an old rumor that Jelly liked boys more than girls, and it was speculated that he was in love with Tony, hence his absolute loyalty. I don't know if it was true or not, but Rizzuto himself must have had his own worries, because he had such a visceral reaction when he was faced with the, ah, evidence of his best friends appetite for the male appendage. I didn't take fat boy's life myself, but I placed him in the situation that killed him in the end, thus taking from Tony his best friend and most trusted employee. My next pawn was the mistress that had taken your sister's place, Francesca Lipari. I knew that the loss of her would be much more devastating to Rizzuto, but I couldn't abide the thought of violence being done to her, despite the fact that she's a cold-blooded reptile, and in the end made due with setting things up so that she'd think that Tony was screwing around on her. I knew that her vanity would prove to be her downfall, and she didn't disappoint on that assumption, flying into a rage when she discovered that the married man who was screwing her on the side would dare to be unfaithful to her...ironic, huh? I employed a prostitute to pose as Tony's on the side of his on the side squeeze, and while I did photograph her in the, ah, buff, I didn't touch her in any way and I did my best to not even look at her."

I was pretty much in shock by this point of the conversation but I still managed to smile when I saw how worried he was that I'd think that maybe he'd done more than take photos of the prostitute, but his worries were all in vain. I hadn't had many opportunities to feel jealous about my Jack, and I hoped to never find myself in that position, but I also knew that I could trust him, and that he wouldn't screw around on me.

"There's one other thing that you need to know," he said, bringing my attention back to the conversation at hand. "It probably wasn't a serious blow to Rizzuto, but it was something that needed to be done, for you and me both. I found out where King was living and I rounded up some fellow loonies and took them to his home. Again, I was not the one to actually snuff out his life, but I was the one who facilitated the process. Society would say that I'm a psychopath, or at the very least, a deranged, half-assed vigilante, but I did what I thought was necessary for us to survive, to try for a normal existence. I would understand if you wanted me to leave now, or if you felt the need to leave me. I want you to stay with me, but I'll understand if that's something that makes you gag to when you contemplate it."

I could see that he fully expected me to leave him, which was absolutely ridiculous, and it hurt me, but it also annoyed me just a little. What was it going to take to convince him that I loved him unconditionally? Did he even comprehend what those words meant when they were said together? Then it dawned on me that no, he didn't, and all the irritation that I'd felt flowed out of me. Poor soul, he was far more damaged than I was and it would take a lot of reassurance and demonstration to convince him that I wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm here to stay, Sweetie," I murmured, lowering my lips to his face to caress his scars with my mouth. "I don't know why you think that I'd leave, or that I'd want you to leave, because I have plans for you tonight."

He gasped and turned his face to capture my lips, his tongue desperate and hungry as it filled my mouth. He was shaking against me and I wrapped him up tightly in my arms, in the hope of soothing him. There had been revelations tonight that would take time to be accepted completely, but he hadn't told me anything that I couldn't live with, wrong as it may have been for me to say. I was no stranger to the strength that a need for vengeance contained, I knew how it could consume you, so who was I to judge what he'd done to protect our new life together?

Our embrace was growing more and more heated, his hands venturing around to my breasts, and I was so lost in the moment that I failed to notice Tootsie to begin with. I only became aware of the sudden change in her demeanor when she leapt off of the sofa, a soft growl of warning deep in her throat, and then there was a soft scratching on the front door, a quiet sound, but one that scared me none the less.

Jack moved me off of his lap and rose to his feet. "Friend or foe, Tootsie Roll?" he whispered, taking hold of my Louisville Slugger as he moved out into the hallway and headed towards the front door. Tootsie whimpered and shook her head, obviously torn between how our visitor would be classified. Jack told me to stay put in the living room and I told him that Hell would freeze over before I let him answer that door alone, and so the three of us tiptoed towards the door, Jack leading with the bat raised. The scratching began again when we reached our destination and Jack had a look out the peephole, and what he saw there caused him to swear harshly beneath his breath and he dropped the bat, swinging open the door to admit Wonko into the foyer, his shirt stained crimson while his life slowly oozed from his body.

Jack grabbed hold of Wonko and told me to shut and lock the door. He laid his friend down onto the hardwood floor and tore off his own shirt, pressing it hard against the wounds that were freely bleeding. He told me to go get the first aid kit out of the bathroom, but Wonko stopped me from complying by reaching out to grab hold of my arm. "No matter what she says, it's a lie," he whispered brokenly, blood tingeing his lips as he spoke. "Don't trust her...can't trust her, please." I looked at Jack, wondering who Wonko was talking about, and from the grim look on Jack's face, I was willing to bet that he had a good idea who it was.

Wonko coughed, the sound both wet and viscous, and more blood appeared on his lips. He weakly grabbed hold of Jack and stared at him. "Sorry, boss...I held out as long as I could, but it's my fault that she found you. They're coming for you tonight...Rizzuto's coming for both of you...kill both of you...so sorry, boss."

It was then that I knew who "she" was, and my hatred for my sister reached its boiling point as I watched Wonko take his last pained breath, his life fading from him in a whisper of exhaled breath. I had never witnessed anyone's death before, let alone the bloody departure of someone that I'd known, and I blinked back the tears that appeared to sting my eyes, knowing that Jack needed me now, and I needed him if we were going to survive the night to come.

Jack touched Wonko's hand for just a moment and asked me to help him to move the body into the kitchen. It was a struggle but we finally managed to get him moved, and I covered him with one of my tablecloths while Jack mopped up the blood from the foyer and the hallway. His face was grim as he reentered the room, and I wondered what we're going to do. Jack looked up at me, as though I'd spoken the words aloud.

"We can't call anyone for help, because no one would help us. I'm going to call Herb and Ida and convince them to leave for the night. I have no idea what I'm going to tell them, but there's no way I'm going to have their deaths on my conscience. You are going to take Tootsie and leave here. There's two hundred thousand dollars in the spare tire for the car, in the trunk. Take that and get as far away from Gotham as possible."

He grabbed hold of me, his arms all but crushing me as he held me tight for what he thought was the final time. He lowered his head and kissed me, his lips and tongue taking hold of me, cherishing me as though it were our first kiss, or what he was assuming was our last kiss. I took full advantage of the moment, never one who would waste the feel of his arms and lips on my body, but obviously he needed some reminding about standing together, no matter what came our way.

"I love you, my Dainty," he whispered as he raised his head. "But it's time for you to go now."

"The hell it is," I countered, placing my hands upon my hips and giving him my best glare. "If you think I'm leaving you here, alone, then you have completely lost your mind. You may think that you're doing the honorable thing by staying here to die while you send me off to live without you, and if your opinion of me if that damn low you may as well just put me out on the curb with the rest of the garbage right now. I'm staying right here, with you, and if you're thinking of trying some dumb-assed maneuver like manhandling me out of this house, then I'd suggest that you arm yourself right now, because we both know how crazy I can get, don't we?"

He stared back at me, trying his best to appear mean and commanding, but then he ruined the image with an exasperatedly amused grin. "Alright then, Miss Violent," he said, willing to compromise on that point, but not on the fact that he was in charge. "You're my second in this fight, but you remember that this is my command, and I don't take too kindly to insubordination." I nodded my agreement, grateful to be spared the responsibility of commander. I trusted Jack to keep us safe and to get us out of this mess alive. There was only going to be one person that I would insist on dealing with personally, because I figured that she was my responsibility.

"Well, then," Jack said, grabbing my hand to lead me out of the kitchen. "We'll get started now, and we'll have to hurry. They'll want to strike early so they'll have plenty of time to play before the sun comes up."