A/N: Big thanks to Emma for reviewing.
Sophie eyed the open door way to her room and made a dash for it, hearing the Joker cackling behind her like an absolute madman. The time it would take to unlock the two deadbolts would be pointless. Although the apartment was small, it had an assortment of hiding places. Darting into one of the guest bedrooms, she hid herself in the walking robe, trying desperately to control her rapid breathing.
"Soooppphhiiieee, come out, come out wherever you are!" The Joker called in an ominous tone; the deep baritone sending a jolt of fear straight to her bones.
The hallway creaked as he searched for her, humming to himself.
"Da...dada...dee...dodedo...da...," accentuating it with a whistle every few seconds.
A loud bang made her yelp, followed by something heavy coming crashing to the floor. More bangs and crashes occurred, the Joker's glorious laugh rolling over the top. Clearly, the psychopath was enjoying wrecking her flat or he was just rifling through things. Sophie peered around the wall, throwing herself back as he entered the room with heavy, measured steps.
"I heard a mouse in here," he sang in a sing-song voice.
Crouching low to the carpet, Sophie whimpered quietly and hid under the various blankets that were reserved for the guest bed. It was sheer cowardice to hide from him but what more could she do? Another creak; this time so close she was positive he was on the other side of the wall.
"Boss!" A distant voice called.
The Joker growled in vexation, and sweat broke out on Sophie's skin as she heard a gun cock. "What?!"
"The Commissioner is on his way. They're keep-"
A gunshot echoed through the room, followed by a heavy thud.
"Can no one do their fucking job? I have to do everything!"
Sophie had retreated from her temporary hiding place, stepping around the wall to come face to face with the Joker. A hand twisted itself into her hair, wrenching her head back while the cool steel of his knife rested just beneath her chin. Grey eyes met intense brown. The psychiatrist in her expected to see madness or some unhinged emotion in the brown depths; yet all she could see was intelligence and cunning.
"So, Jimmy boy is lookin' after you, beautiful?" He licked his lips and leaned in close, sniffing at her skin. "You smell good, doll face. I gotta deal with the cops first then we'll have another chat."
Without a 'by your leave' the Joker crushed her feminine frame to his, lips taking over hers in such a domineering, intoxicating manner that her head spinning; and then he was gone. Sophie sank to the floor, pressing shaking fingers to her heated lips. Paint had smeared onto her skin.
There was definitely one thing she had to add to her profile of him.
He was one hell of a kisser.
But more importantly, why hadn't he killed her? If he knew of her involvement with Gordon and Jefferson, why did he spare her?
It wasn't until members of S.W.A.T were helping her stand that she came back to herself, blinking stupidly as Commissioner Gordon stepped into the room. Gently guiding her towards the living room, Sophie slumped onto the couch and he rocked back on his heels in front of her.
"Are you all right, Sophie?" The Commissioner's eyes were full of worry and concern.
"I-I think so," she breathed steadily, a light shake still trembled along the length of her body. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, Sophie felt the need for the fix again. The Joker's presence was intoxicating and so mysterious. "Did he get away?"
"Yes but we've got the building covered now, Sophie. He can't come back in without us noticing him."
"He knew, Gordon. I managed to get in contact with him from that number." She bit her lip guiltily as Gordon frowned but surged on. "I used a pay phone...how could he have found me?"
The Commissioner shook his head tiredly. "We're working on that. The Joker attracts all sorts of people, and not all follow him for the money. Some just thinks he's the next big thing. There's no telling who else was in that club."
Not too far from the truth.
Eventually most things slid back into a normal routine. Well, except for seeking out the Joker. Weeks had passed since the incident of having the Clown Prince hunt her in her own home, and she'd managed to put it behind her. Jefferson insisted she continue to do his profiling however, while Gordon was furious, explaining there was no need to put her in danger again.
So poor Sophie had been put under a strict guard. It was embarrassing to be seen out in public with four men watching over her as if she were a child. They insisted it was for her own protection just in case the Joker intended to drop in.
Any attempt at continuing her psychiatry training at Arkham was scratched; permanently put on hiatus until the Joker was safely behind bars. Until then, the PD had set her up in a coffee shop not even ten blocks from Gordon's office; working as a waitress. Four years in studying for a degree and she was stuck waiting on people that wanted coffee and not an analysis of their problems.
"We need you to maintain a clear head," Jefferson had explained. "By taking you off your psychiatry work, you only have one patient to worry about. The coffee gig is so the Commissioner and his department can keep an eye on you."
And the worst part?
Part of her was actually enjoying it. Sure, there were bad days and terrible customers but it was a peaceful, cheerful environment. The co-workers were friendly enough, especially Kimberley, who was a fiery-red head that didn't take no for an answer. They had become fast friends.
"Ah, morning, Pea!" Among being incredibly stubborn, Kimberley had developed a nickname for Sophie.
The moment Sophie stepped into the locker room, Kimberley assaulted her with the horrid nickname. "Morning, Kim. Are you ever going to get tired of that?"
"Nah. Are you kidding me? Its adorable!"
Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, Sophie shoved her bag into her locker, pining her nametag to her uniform which consisted of black slacks and the business's logo shirt. "What if I start calling you fire engine or carrot top?"
"You wouldn't be the first," was the sly reply.
Managing to smile, the young woman shook her head in disbelief before making her way into the kitchen. Mac, the head chef greeted her with a cheerful smile. He was a portly fellow with cherub cheeks and a moustache the size of France.
Sophie tied her apron on, grabbed her notebook and went out into the dining area. Already groups were seating themselves and hailing her down. A few of the other waiters pounced on them, enthusiastically awaiting their orders. Trying to maintain that level of enthusiasm for this job was something Sophie just couldn't do. It was mundane.
"Miss?" An elderly couple she recognised waved at her from a back table.
"Ah, Mr and Mrs Fletcher. Nice to see you again," Sophie said with a polite smile, genuinely pleased to see them. "What'll it be for today?"
"The usual, please, oh and perhaps some pancakes?"
"And I'm going to go out on a limb here, dear but I'm craving a milkshake. Chocolate!" Mrs Fletcher put in.
Sophie laughed, "Sure. Comin' right up."
A selection of booths were available on the other side of the cafe that allowed the serving of alcohol. There was rarely anyone there during the day but a hand hailing her down had her hastening to that side to come upon a man hidden by a newspaper.
"What can I get you?" Sophie said cheerfully, pen hovering over her notepad when she noticed the man wore gloves. Leather, and purple.
"Ah...let me see. I'll get...uh...peas. You got peas, doll face?"
Sophie went as stiff as a board and her face drained of all colour.
The newspaper lowered to reveal the Joker in his clown glory. How in the hell he managed to get into the cafe without being seen was uncanny. As the newspaper flopped onto the table several photos of Sophie spilled out across the wood in a variety of situations. The one that worried her the most was a picture of her working desk. 'The Joker' in bold capitals with words flowing down the page.
"How did you manage to take that?"
"I'm very resourceful, beautiful. You'd be surprised just how many things I can do," his tongue crept over his lips, eyes dark as he stared at her. Drawing in a deep breath, Sophie gathered some courage and frowned at him.
"Go away."
With speed and dexterity that Sophie had only ever seen on TV, the Joker lunged for her, laughing insanely as he fisted his hand in her hair, his lips brushing against her ear. Now they had the entire attention of the cafe and people were beginning to panic.
"Sit down!" The Joker snarled, producing his gun from his coat pocket, panning it around the assortment of customers. One man darted for the door and Joker shot him without even blinking. Sophie remained still, for fear he'd turn the gun on her. "Now, we can have our little chat sweet Pea, just as soon as I take care of...business."
Several of his clowns came in via the back entrance, carrying explosives which had the customers fainting in their seats. The Joker rolled his eyes and shoved Sophie at one the clowns before pocketing his gun. He set to work on rigging up the explosives, his brow furrowed in concentration; gloved fingers quick and experienced made sure everything was perfect.
"You can't!" Sophie cried attempting to step forward but the restraining clown wouldn't let her.
Hair hanging down over his face, the Joker peered at her over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh? You gonna stop me, babe?"
Kimberley, who'd been standing stunned against the wall, moved into action. "I'll stop you, you crazy, insane, psychotic murderer!" The red-headed waitress stormed toward him, and Sophie barked out a warning to get clear but it was too late.
Standing, the Joker cocked his head to the side. "No, I'm not. I'm not." And then he shot her.
"Kim, no!" Sophie screamed, kicking and fighting with everything she had. A vicious elbow to the clown's midsection had him on the ground, cursing. Another clown moved in to stop her, quickly finding himself on the floor as her knee found his groin. The Joker watched with amusement, but his head tilted to the side. The explosives were rigged to blow.
"Enjoy the show folks. Its gonna be a blast!" He cackled, literally skipping out the back door, followed by his clowns and an distraught Sophie.
The moment they were clear of the blast range, the Joker pulled a remote from his inner coat pocket and laughed gleefully as he pushed the button. The cafe went up in spiralling flames and smoke; the screams of the dying and the injured coloured the air. Police were racing down the street, followed closely by ambulances and fire-fighters.
"You're a monster!" She whispered, her eyes glued to the destruction.
"Awww, Pea. You flatter me," he giggled and shuffled over to her. The gathered clowns hastened towards their cars hidden in back alleys. Sophie tensed as the Joker's arm draped over her shoulders, walking her towards a black sedan. Saying or doing anything was out of the question. Trying to escape him would be pointless. Trying to talk him down as a shrink would be suicide.
"In ya go, babe." The Joker pushed her into the back seat, sliding in after her.
The cars made a quick escape, soon leaving the police that had spotted them far behind. As they drove further into the city centre, Sophie chewed anxiously at her lip, having all but glued herself to the car door. So many people had been killed, and for what? For some lunatic's personal entertainment.
"Sally boy happened to..ah...mention you'd been lookin' for me," The Joker said casually. "Got some balls, he does."
"Did you kill him?" Sophie deadpanned, numb from shock and anger.
"Yup."
That answer alone made her head whip around and in an instant, recoil, to find him right next to her. "W-why?"
The Joker leaned in close, pressing against her side as his hand snaked around her waist. A spark of desire spread through the entirety of her waist before ricocheting from the tips of her toes, to her head. What made it a hell of a lot worse was when the Joker unbelted her and placed her on his lap, grasping her jaw with his free hand.
"Because I felt like it. I actually saved your life, doll face. Sally's little henchmen were sniffin' around your apartment."
Sophie wriggled uncomfortably, more because of her body's reaction than being in the Joker's lap. Remembering the kiss he'd given her didn't exactly help matters. Mentally beating the crap out of the dirty thoughts dancing through her subconscious, Sophie focused on his words rather than the heat of his body.
"Why did you kill Kim?"
"Kim was a detective, babe. She lied to you," he cooed with a giggle.
"You're lying!"
"Poor little Pea. Pot calling the kettle blaaaaaccck. You're a shrink. I'll admit, I got a kick out of your excuse to Sally. Do I fuck whores? Yup. Would they came crawling back to me requesting child support?" The Joker snorted. "I'd put a bullet in their gut just in case it happened to be true."
"Let go of me." Sophie spat at him, baring her teeth like an enraged kitten.
For all her effort to looking intimidating, the Joker roared with laughter, pinching her cheeks in a mocking fashion. "Ah you're so funny and cute. Oh, and I...ah...know your little secret. You've got some interesting reading material on that little desk of yours, babe."
Everything and anything she'd gathered, written or worked on about the Joker was all on that desk. At sixteen, Sophie had even gone so far as to buy a diary specifically for doodling 'S & J together 4 eva'; it was littered with fluffy propaganda and little smut scenes her imagination had warped into something fantastic. How naive she had been. God help her if he had found that.
"You're an interesting...man. I've been researching you for years."
The Joker's reply was simply a sardonic eyebrow raise before he pulled the diary out from his jacket pocket, waving it in front of her face. "A little more than that." he cackled. Blushing prettily Sophie grabbed for the diary, whining in frustration when he used the superior length of his arm to hold it away from her.
Cackling at her continued attempts, the Joker was discreetly made aware that they had arrived at the destination.
"Please, it was the imagination of a child," Sophie murmured sulkily.
"How old are you now, babe?"
"None of your-" The steely length of his fingers wrapped around her jaw, jerking her towards him. His eyes were sinister and dark.
"You are now my business." He all but growled.
The door opened and Sophie was hauled out of the car. "Gently, boys, gently." The Joker cooed as he stepped out after them.
A large, decrepit warehouse was the sight that greeted Sophie; its dingy swinging doors, broken windows and vast amounts of graffiti littered its side. So that was the Joker's infamous hide out. To her credit, Sophie had managed to keep a handle on her nervousness, using anger instead. The Joker sauntered into the building, the clowns dragging Sophie followed in his wake.
Inside was not your average warehouse; it was wired to the hilt. Surveillance televisions, sound systems, racks upon racks of weaponry and ammunition. On the other side of the warehouse were several sets of sofas where the cleans immediately relaxed, some playing poker, others enjoying a cigarette. Opposite that was a large board strewn with photos, newspaper clippings and darts. Sophie's jaw almost hit the floor.
The Joker appeared at her side, wrapping fingers of steel around her wrist. Sophie started to protest by a low, sinister glance from him shut her mouth. Leading her into a hidden alcove that opened up to a staircase, he climbed two at a time, forcing her to keep up with him less she face plant into the dusty old boards.
Once reaching the top of the stairs, the Joker lead her through a door to the right which revealed an old bedroom. Sophie knew this was his room. It was definitely cleaner than downstairs but still held the traces of a male presence; clothes littered the floor, empty containers of paint piled up on top of each other in an overflowing waste bin and the definitive, masculine smell that was all the Joker.
A moderate sixed TV sat just next to the wall; it was already on, revealing the aftermath of the cafe explosion. The camera panned to the right, catching Jim Gordon in his trademark pose; hands on his hips, and looking around as though the world was coming to a tragic end.
"Oh...we gotta listen to this," The Joker muttered and kicked the volume up.
"...suspect the Joker is involved. All the occupants that were inside at the time are...dead. We do know that the Joker has a hostage." A picture of Sophie presented itself on the screen. "Miss Havens was last seen being taken forcibly in a black sedan. We're doing everything in our power to find her."
Laughing softly in a low octave that made Sophie break out in goose bumps, the Joker switched the television off, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders.
"So little, Pea. Whatcha in for?" The Joker sat down on the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his hands draped between his thighs. "And can the bullshit. Tell the truth."
Sophie fiddled with them hem of her shirt, unsure of what to say or do. Gordon had made it sound easy. This was not easy, nor was her assignment possible considering the Joker was aware she was a psychiatrist. Was there a way to turn the tables or was she just screwed?
"I was chasing a position at Arkham. Jefferson-"
"Get to the juicy part, doll face." The Joker interrupted her, twirling his knife between his hands.
Swallowing nervously, she said, "Profiling. They wanted me to do a write up on you, and bring you in."
The Joker simply stared at her before throwing his head back and laughing uproariously.
Writing this has been on word inspiration alone. Reviews would help a lot to kick my enthusiasm up a notch. :)