A/N: O-k! So I here ya go, the first real installment. The chapters will get longer as I go.
Got no comments to make on reviews since there were none. ;-;
Giddy, with butterflies dancing in her belly, Sophie meandered down the sidewalk of a busy intersection, hardly paying attention to the kafuffle of the traffic or the voices circulating around her. To think the Police Commissioner had asked her to spy on the Joker, the crazy psychopathic killer left her in a breathless mess.
Sure, the idea sounded exhilarating in her head but actually meeting him in person? Lying to him? Morals were something the young woman valued above all else, and even backstabbing the ultimate backstabber was not something she was overly comfortable with. There wasn't even a chance of finding the Joker, let alone trying to join his side.
Gordon had assured her that an officer would always be tailing her, even if she couldn't see them. It made her more nervous, considering she didn't have much choice in the matter. Jefferson had made it quite clear after going over the details that it was not so much of a request; more of an order. Sophie thought back to the conversation, a frown darkening her features.
"Miss Havens, even if you change your mind, you have to do this. If you don't you can say goodbye to any permanent psychiatry work in the future," he'd said with a blank face that clearly said he meant it. Gordon hadn't been informed of that part, and wasn't amused but decided the matter couldn't be helped.
"Find the Joker. If I were the Joker...where would I be?" Sophie tapped her lip thoughtfully.
For little more than a week, this had been the routine. Put her day to day activities in order then try and find the Joker.
The Joker wasn't predictable; in fact he was extremely unpredictable to the point it left Sophie flustered as to where he would go into hiding. She had however clarified several things. The Joker would never leave Gotham until it was left in a tattered mess. Wherever he was, it would probably be outside of the general part of the city. That left the outskirts, or did it?
It was late afternoon but that didn't seem to bother the crowd queuing up to enter a popular club.
Sophie knew the sort of riff-raff that hailed there. Crime lords like Sal Maroni frequented the venue; and then it hit her. If anyone had a clue where the Joker was, it would be Maroni only how would she get to him? The queue was a mile long and she was a novice psychiatrist.
Great. Just great. What can I do? Go up there and say Maroni needs a doctor?
Gnawing thoughtfully at her lip, Sophie darted into a nearby convenience store, hopping up and down in a very undignified fashion that spoke volumes to the shopkeeper before she had to say anything. Handing her a key over the counter and pointing around the counter, Sophie thanked him graciously and raced into the bathroom.
Standing in front of a dirty mirror, she tapped her fingers on the basin. What she had on at the moment was not club material; a navy blue suede skirt at a respectable length and a dark blue blouse. With a low growl, Sophie combed her fingers through her dark brown locks, willing the curls to present themselves appropriately around her face. Satisfied, she reached into her bag and produced mascara and silver eye shadow. It brought out the grey of her eyes and gave her a smoky look.
"And I really liked this top," she sighed and delved further into her handbag, retrieving a small set of scissors that she kept at all times in case she needed a weapon or the threading on her clothes came out. Grimacing, she began cutting and cutting, and cutting some more. The process took her a little over twenty minutes and her nose wrinkled.
What stood in the mirror now was definitely something she did not view herself as; the suede skirt had been dissected and shortened. Slits run up both legs, showing a generous amount of thigh while now it barely managed to cover her bottom. The blouse's sleeves were gone and she'd popped open a few more buttons to reveal her cleavage.
Determined and more than a little nervous, Sophie staggered out of the bathroom returned the key with a muttered thank you and dashed out onto the street. Thankfully, the line had thinned out some and she joined the queue.
"Ok. Be calm and cool..." Sophie breathed in and out slowly through her mouth as she got closer to the bouncers; very intimidating ones at that. They were so big and brawny she was sure they could break her over their thighs as easily as a piece of wood. The couple in front of her went through, and she started sashaying towards the bouncers, hoping to God she didn't make a fool of herself.
"Hey handsome," she winked at the closest bouncer; a dark man that reminded her of Blade.
'Blade' looked at her, starting from the bottom up, and it was all she could do not to hit him. Men that started at the bottom were nothing but perverts. Deciding he liked what he saw, he gave her a wide smile.
"Well hello there, sweet cheeks,"
"I'm here to see Maroni...if you get what I mean." Battering her eyelashes sweetly at him, she felt her stomach clench anxiously when he looked at his partner before shrugging and lifted the barricade.
"He's in his normal suite, darlin'. At the back!"
"Thanks," Sophie gave him another saucy (what she thinks is saucy) wink and sashayed past him, feeling his eyes on her backside as she disappeared into the club. As the doors swung open, she was buffeted by deep based music, gyrating bodies and a lot of sweat lingering in the air. Getting through the crowd was hard enough compared to actually finding Maroni.
Standing up on an elevated platform, she peered around, searching for the crime lord and spotted him at the back of the club just as 'Blade' had said. Except he was surrounded by a dozen men and flanked by two blonds.
"Hey you!"
Broken out of her musings, Sophie glanced down to see quite a few people looking up to her, cheering her on.
"Dance, honey! Shake dat ass!"
Bushing as red as an apple, the shock horror of climbing onto a dancing platform hit her square in the face. And then Maroni raised his eyes from the table and met hers. Not even comprehending what she was doing, Sophie began to move her hips in circles, bringing her hands up above her head, grinding to the music. The noise of the crowd said she was doing something right.
Maroni gestured to one of his flunkies and the man nodded before heading in her direction.
"Come with me, miss." He offered a hand up.
"You goin' to pay me, tiger?" What she had been going for was a husky allure than ended up sounding like a rat squeaking.
"Just get off the stage, bitch and let me do my job." With a rough yank, he pulled her down, much to her surprise. Sophie fell into him but didn't collapse as he caught her. "Jesus Christ, woman. If you're that clumsy I don't want to think about what you're like to fuck."
Indignation and anger rose within her and she opened her mouth to yell at him when she remembered what she was doing here. A whore wouldn't care what was said to her. Waving, with effort, an uncaring hand in his face, Sophie sauntered towards Maroni, feeling the sweat begin to bead at the back of her neck.
Arriving at the table, Maroni cocked his head to the side, and eyed Sophie like a prized lamb. Invisible ants marched up and down her arms, eliciting a shiver. The crime lord flickered his fingers impatiently and the two whores stood up, taking the dozen of bodyguards with them.
"Have a seat, gorgeous." Maroni indicated the seat next to him.
Dropping the not so convincing whore act, Sophie plopped herself down beside him and dove straight in. "Do you know where the Joker is?"
Maroni leaned back against the sofa, his eyebrow raised and his mouth quirking as though she'd said something amusing. Funny how Batman had come in to ask him the same thing, only that had ended quite badly. Picking up a glass, he took a sip as she waited, tapping her foot against the floor.
"I don't know where he is," Maroni shrugged off-handed. "Last I heard he was in Arkham."
"You know very well that he isn't."
"Why do you want to know? A young girl like you. Can't be more than twenty-five. The Joker would wrap you up and send you home in pieces."
That was a very chilling point, and it could well be true but Sophie wasn't giving up yet. "Please, I need to find him."
"You know, the last person I had come in here asking where he was, he strung me up and let me hang off a balcony. When I didn't tell him..." Maroni trailed off, frowning uncomfortably and Sophie sensed she was going to have to dig deeper to find out.
"Please. He's all I have left." Sophie begged pathetically, bringing the most depressing memory up from her subconscious; the death of her father, causing tears to spill down her cheeks. The act would have won her a Grammy award on stage but Maroni wasn't buying it.
"The Joker doesn't have any relatives." He deadpanned pointedly. "Go home."
At some ungiven signal, the bodyguards were returning, ready to escort her out or, more than likely, throw her out. "Wait! Wait! I'm telling the truth. He's my father."
Jesus...that is the worst thing I could have said.
Maroni stared at her, unblinking before a wide smile spread across his face and he roared with laughter. On Sophie's part, her crying visage was kept up and her lower lip trembled. His smile began to drop until it disappeared altogether. "Are you serious?"
Remaining tearful yet thrumming with excitement, Sophie surged into a fantasised story of how the Joker tended to frequent whores (though she was certain that wasn't completely untrue) and that he got one of them pregnant. 'Stella' discovered she was pregnant after a couple of weeks but did not destroy the child as any sensible whore would. No, this one decided to pursue the Joker for a possibility of getting in on his steals.
"And so my mother, when I was six or so, tracked him down and asked that she be given support payments to look after me. The J- my father didn't believe a word of it and sent her away but then that night, men came into the house and...and..." Sophie sobbed, earning a few sympathetic looks from the surrounding bodyguards. "Men came. They killed her...they killed my mother. I was raised in an orphanage."
Now was the time to turn it up a notch. "After all these years, I intend to find him. I will, and I'll avenge my mother." Sophie's eyes burned furiously and Maroni, a little bewildered blinked a few times at her before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a joker card. It was the same one the Joker had planted in front of the mob on approaching them. He figured the moron would still have some way of using that number.
"I don't know where he is but that number is your best way of finding him." Maroni handed her the card, and she reached out a little too eagerly for it because he grabbed her wrist before she could retreat, pulling her close. "If you tell the Joker I gave you this, you'll be dead. Do you understand me?"
Heart beating wildly in her chest, Sophie gave a jerky nod and was let go. "Get out of my sight."
And she did, without even needing a push from his bodyguards.
Once outside of the club, Sophie pulled out the mobile Gordon had given her. It was set to speed dial in case she managed to find any clues. Two rings and the Commissioner answered.
"Sophie, are you all right? My boys couldn't follow you. Where are you?"
"I'm fine," she said, a little breathless. "I spoke to Maroni. He gave me a card with what I can only assume is the Joker's number."
The Commissioner sighed heavily. "Sophie, Maroni is dangerous; less dangerous than the Joker but he could have killed you. That number is probably outdated."
"I can at least try it."
"Well, yes but be careful. If the Joker answers be very careful what you say to him. Keep me notified."
"I will. Bye, Gordon."
"Take care, Sophie, please."
Pressing the end button, Sophie went to the nearest pay phone and inserted a couple of coins before shakily typing in the number on the keypad. It started dialling out and her fingers curled around the cord, needing to keep her hands busy less she start shaking. After nearly ten rings, she was read to give up when it stopped and someone breathing on the other line became audible.
"H-hello?" Sophie all but squeaked, feeling the fool.
"I don't know you, but I'd like to. Yes, you sound quite delectable, little mouse." The Joker's gravelly voice sent thrills of both fear and something she couldn't explain down her spine.
"I..umm...I...you see,"
"Come on, doll face. I don't got all day y'know." He cackled quietly in her ear and she could hear him licking his lips.
"I want to join you."
All she received was silence and almost jumped out of her skin went he started laughing manically.
"You...ehehe...eheehe!" He giggled sporadically into the phone until his voice turned serious. "Where'd you get this number from?"
Did Maroni really mean he'd kill her? Gordon's warning raced through her mind. What the hell could she say? What should she do? Thinking off the top of her head, Sophie said the lamest most ridiculous thing she could think of, and it was probably going to get her into more trouble. "Batman."
Again, the Joker laughed at her, thoroughly amused. "Oh, I like you. You're so funny. You know what's really funny? I only gave this number to one person."
"I-"
The line went dead before any response could come to mind. Mentally kicking herself, Sophie stormed away from the pay phone. A week rolls by and nothing happens. She gets a clue and gets in contact with the Joker and ruins it. Uncertainty stopped her in her tracks. The Joker wouldn't come after her would he? How could he anyway? It was a public pay phone. Shaking her head, Sophie wandered back in the direction of her car.
The thought of calling Gordon didn't really cross her mind as the street lights turned on around her; daytime ended and the nightlife began. People were milling about in groups and couples, chattering and shouting, already enjoying the night out. Cursing herself for ruining her clothing, Sophie rubbed furiously at her arms, hastening to get to her car before she froze to death.
As the parking lot came into sight, Sophie quickened her pace, eager to be home and leave the day behind until something stopped her. Clutching her bag to her chest, she studied the lot. Nothing was amiss but she had a sneaky suspicion crawling up her spine. Brushing it off as paranoia, Sophie continued to her car and got in, turning the heater on full-bore.
By the time she climbed the two flights of stairs to her apartment, it was nearing nine. Too tired to even bother having something to eat, Sophie tottered through the flat and collapsed on her bed quickly falling asleep.
Sophie woke with a start, eyes adjusting to the darkness of her room. The clock on the bedside said it was only one-thirty. Sighing irritated, she clambered off the bed and started changing out of her clothes when she noticed the open window. The breeze was light but cold enough to illicit goose bumps on her skin.
"I didn't open that," she muttered softly and walked towards it when a sound behind her made her freeze.
A darkly amused chuckle drifted from the darkness of her bedroom. A sliver of moonlight drifted into her room, lighting up the far wall near the door. And there, stood the Joker, leaning against her cupboard as if he owned it. Fear and fascination in the same gut-wrenching mix swirled around her. It was really him. Purple waist coat and all. Greasy dark green hair hung over one side of his face; the paint extremely bright and ominous in the moonlight.
"H-how?" Sophie whispered.
The Joker grinned, the red of the paint making the yellow of his teeth stand out. "I have my ways of finding people, doll face. And my, my, my aren't you a looker!" Prancing forward, eyes sparkling with menace, he giggled gleefully. Sophie all but plastered herself against the window. All the fantasies, all the dreams of meeting the Clown Prince had come down to this one moment. And she was downright terrified of him.
A knife appeared in his gloved hand and he twirled it around in his fingers expertly, shuffling towards her, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Sophie...Sophie Havens," Was the whispered reply. The closer he came, the more she realised just how imaginative her brain. In her thoughts, the Joker was a man unblemished. No scars, no yellow teeth and certainly not a weapon wielder. Seeing him in the flesh was a wakeup call she did not need. Slamming her eyes shut, she waited with a whimper.
"No, no. Shush, shush, shush," The Joker wrapped a hand around her jaw, looking down on her from his superior height. "Look at me."
Sophie whimpered pathetically, trying to pull away from his grip before he pushed her right up against the window. The warmth of his body against her; the strength he harboured was enough for her to resist opening her eyes.
"Look at me!" he all but shouted and her eyes snapped open, tears beginning to well within. Up close, even underneath the red paint, his scars were gruesome and unsightly. Though despite it all, it didn't disturb her, fingers twitching as she resisted the urge to touch them. Looking up into his piercing eyes, she fidgeted. "Now there's a good girl," he cooed with a giggle.
"Did they hurt?" Sophie whispered.
The Joker froze before grinning again, pressing the wicked knife against her cheek. "You wanna know how I got 'em?"
"Yes," The reply seemed to throw him for a millisecond before he giggled and shrugged.
"As a kid I didn't smile. My daddy didn't like that. He said to me one day 'why so serious?'," The Joker growled in a menacing tone, but it didn't deter Sophie. So concentrated on him as she was. "He got the kitchen knife and said 'let's put a smile on that face'." The Joker grinned at her for emphasis. "And they didn't hurt. But it hurt him after I gave him a smile from ear to ear." He cackled.
Standing in the Joker's presence; being pressed against a window by him was as exhilarating as it was frightening. Despite his unclean appearance, his scent was clean with a musk that was all male, mixed with blood. Sophie decided she liked it and kicked herself.
"Are you going to kill me?"
The Joker tongued at his scars, shifting his weight from foot to foot before swinging away from her, burying his knife in the headboard of her bed. Sophie bit her tongue to stop herself from berating him; who did that? Now the wood would need to be replaced. Sprawling his lean form across the bed, he buried his face in her pillow, smearing paint all over it.
This was the Joker.
In her room.
On her bed.
Smelling her pillow.
What in the hell was going on?
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