A/N: Hey, guys! Yay I gots reviews. Woot!
So this chapter is a little heavy with action and fluffyness at the end. I hope I didn't put the Joker too far out of character but he's not superman.
UppersNDowners: Thank you. I'm glad I was able to inspire a reaction in someone!
Virtu (cause I'm too lasy to write the rest of it): No Harley Quinn! Well, maybe. I'll keep ya guessing.
Nymph. Naji: Yeah, I dont want her to be too placid about the way the Joker works. :P
Thanks to ArlettaSmith and Elena777 for reviewing.
You guys make me want to keep writing harder, and bring more Joker goodness to the world!
Oh, and I don't own the Joker. Forgot about that.
I re-edited this chapter cause I didn't like the ending.
Looking on nervously, Sophie prepared for the moment when he snapped and killed her at her admission. But, the Joker was too set on getting his breath back; giggling and coughing with intense mirth. Vying for another approach, she gingerly stepped over to him and took the blade from where he'd dropped it on his bed.
Admiring the knife's sheer craftsmanship, Sophie ran delicate fingers over the steel, shivering at the cold touch. Not even a hint of blood or rust was present. The Joker loved his weapons too much to let them get blunt or stay dirty. Hell, it even glinted like it was brand new. Not only had she recorded his personality, but his weapon preferences as well.
"Don't cut yourself," The Joker said softly. Sophie jumped. He was right in front of her.
"Why did you take me?"
The Joker sucked noisily on his scars, before taking his weapon from her and running the blunt side of his knife down her neck. "I like you, doll face. You're...interesting," he quoted her with a dark smile. Sophie swallowed hard, pulse hammering. With a practised, precise cut, the Joker cut the sleeves from her work shirt, much to her protest. Sophie mentally cursed, understanding what he must have seen weeks ago.
Rapidly stepping backwards, Sophie started on the retreat but not before the Joker grabbed the back of her neck and yanked her forwards, pressing her against his body. "Hey, hey, shush." The knife disappeared into the expanse of his waistcoat as he grasped both her wrists in his hand, the leather brushing against her soft flesh.
Lining the inside of both wrists were several scars; haphazard and clumsy were the few circling the join of wrist to hand, both the ones continuing after that were more precise and deeper. Obviously as she'd aged, it was easier to keep her hand still.
"You made these not more than a few years ago."
With more strength than she knew she had, Sophie yanked her wrists out of his grip before he recaptured them tighter than before. "Yeah so?" Sophie said tightly, clenching her jaw, eyes hard. The Joker giggled at her, holding her eyes as he ran his tongue over the scars. Her breath hitched in her throat, her body tightening in response. What the hell? Did having him lick her scars just do that?
"So I think they're beautiful. And I don't want you hiding them, babe."
Ever since Sophie had gotten into high school, people had bullied her for having superior intelligence and an interest in something other than sex and drugs. Even with continuous sessions of counselling and support from her parents, letting her pain run in the form of blood was the best option available at the time. As she got older, shame had descended from that act. Now with the Joker calling them beautiful, it caused a disturbance in her.
"They disgust me." Sophie spat. "They resemble the person I used to be." The Joker looked intrigued and made a circular motion with his hand, encouraging her to continue. "I was weak enough that I slit my wrists to wash away my pain. It was pathetic."
"Well, babe, you should appreciate them now then. They changed you into a delectable woman."
Sophie blushed a startling red, causing the Joker to giggle merrily before releasing her from his grip. The Joker really didn't have any morale bounds or limitations on how he viewed someone's life. It was refreshing. People that beat around the bush and told you what they thought would make you happy, are despicable.
A set of clothes landed on her head, making her squeak in fright, automatically catching them so they didn't fall on the blood stained carpet. The Joker was rummaging through a dusty old wardrobe, muttering and grumbling to himself with the occasional chuckle. What he'd thrown at her was a lilac, short frilly dress that looked like something out of a gentlemen's club. Sophie wrinkled her nose and held it at arm's length. It was trashy but the inner woman within her adored it.
"We're going out tonight, babe. You gotta look presentable on my arm." He said into the wardrobe.
That was rich coming from a man who wore the same suit every day and was decked out like a clown. "W-where are we going?"
"Clean up duty. The other...ah...mob bosses aren't too...pleased with me for slittin' Sally's throat."
Sophie frowned at the visualisation. "But they'll kill you."
The Joker popped his head out of the wardrobe, wearing a sinister grin as he stalked toward her. Sophie stubbornly held her ground as he came to tower over her. "Trust me, doll face. They won't."
Two hours after sundown, Sophie was alone with the Joker.
No clowns.
No onlookers.
No one.
Just her and him.
Walking down an alley.
Much to her displeasure, the Joker had managed to get her into the dress. Hands, limbs and clothes had flown all over the place despite Sophie's efforts to kick him away. He'd found it hilarious the entire time, and done something worse.
After wrestling her into the dress, he'd reapplied his paint and then turned the brush on her. The outcome hadn't ended well. Spilt paint and much cursing, Sophie had managed to flee from him; the only thing he'd had the chance to paint on was a ridiculous feminine smile.
The Joker kept his gun out the whole time, pressed against one side while he had his other arm around her. Keeping up with his long stride wasn't the hard part. Feeling all that powerful, male muscle brushing down her body was a lot to handle. It sent shivers of desire, exhilaration and caution through her very bones.
Their destination became quite apparent with the flashing lights and rowdy signs. Sophie just barely managed to refrain from turning on her heel and storming the hell out of there, but the Joker's arm was like steel around her. It was a gentlemen's club. No wonder he'd picked out that dress. What, was she supposed to blend in with the whores and act the part?
As they entered, women in awe-inspiring outfits greeted them with devilish smiles. The disturbing part was that the smiles weren't just at the Joker, but at Sophie as well. One woman even gave her backside a quick squeeze causing Sophie to crawl up the Joker's side, more afraid of the whore than the Clown Prince.
The whore quickly found a gun digging into the flesh of her neck. Holding Sophie to the side and behind him, he leaned close to the trembling woman, tonguing at his scars. "I don't like people touching my...ah...property." And without any further ado, the gun went off, echoing in the fancy parlour. Blood splattered the wall and would have scored the Joker if he hadn't dodged with a giggle. The body slumped to the floor.
Sophie could barely believe what he'd just done or said. Property?! She wasn't a piece of land or a possession. Any idea of protest quickly vanished as the Joker steered her down the corridor as though nothing had occurred, whistling loudly to himself. Any whores in the way quickly pressed themselves flat against the wall; not interested in having their blood painted on the wall.
Heavily armed thugs became visible around the corner, freezing as the Joker stalked towards them, waving his gun and tsking at them as their hands twitched. "Careful, boys, you might hit my lovely, little lady here."
Both thugs glanced at each other before pulling guns from their holsters, but the Joker was quicker, shoving Sophie behind him. Having not expected the Joker to be valiant, the woman stumbled in the ridiculous heels he had forced her to wear and landed on her ass. Laughing darkly, he gunned the two morons down within seconds, kicking their bodies out of the way.
"You gonna stay down there all day, doll face?" The Joker gave her a quick smirk over his shoulder before shoving the door open to reveal the gathered members of what remained of the mob. Waltzing in as though he owned the place, Sophie could only watch him from her position on the floor before shaking her head and getting to her feet, running her sore backside.
The Joker, arrogant as ever, planted himself on a seat, propping his feet up on an antique table while the mob looked on anxiously.
"What are you doing here, Joker?" One of Maroni's former thugs said quietly.
"I have a proposition for you," The Joker twirled his gun around his fingers. Sophie carefully walked up to stand slightly behind him and to the side, lowering her gaze to her shoes as the men eyed her speculatively. "I want-"
"What's with the whore?" Another of the mob spoke up, not overly experienced with the Joker's mood swings. He did not see the Clown Prince's fingers twitch nor did he see the dark eyes begin to narrow at him. Sophie glanced up, blushing in anger at being called a whore...again. Normally, the novice psychiatrist was a person with a cool temper and an outrageous amount of patience when someone was deliberately trying to upset her. With all that had happened, who could blame that Sophie lost it a little.
Uncaring that each member of the mob were armed, Sophie stomped angrily across the length of the room, jabbing a finger into the tall man's chest. "Listen here. I am not a whore. I am a psychiatrist. And I'm here because I got dragged here by him," she pointed in the general direction of the Joker, hearing him giggle.
Blinking stupidly at her, the man didn't quite expect such a response nor was he ready for the feminine imprint of a hand and the following sting on his cheek. Silence ensued, making the already tense atmosphere just that much worse. Realising with horror what she'd done, Sophie paced backwards, opening and closing her mouth. Slow, deliberate applause broke the silence.
"Well, well, well, Pea has claws. I knew I liked you, babe." The Joker had watched her movements like a hawk the moment she'd stepped out and defended herself. It was an attractive trait, especially with that dress. Licking at his scars he stood with a flourish of his jacket, tugging at the lapels. "Now, if you want to live, I want all of you to start tearing shit up. Kill people on the streets for all I care. Just make sure cameras and witnesses catch ya doin' it."
Since the Joker got thrown in jail, crime had continued but it was of the petty sought; purses and wallets getting nicked and domestic violence. Without Batman there to come to the aid of the innocents, it had plodded along, and now the Joker wanted it to skyrocket. Chaos was, after all, his job. But he could only be in so many places at once.
"You expect us to just do as you say?" One of the elderly men in the mob snapped.
"Yeah." The Joker deadpanned.
Sophie glanced nervously between the mob and the Clown Prince; noting in particular that the man she'd hit was eyeing her with malevolence. It was uncanny how quickly Sophie was getting used to the Joker and his violent behaviour. Even the shock of him blowing up the cafe had worn away. Was she that heartless that she just didn't care? Or was it because The Joker was the culprit, that her feelings were clamped down in her subconscious? Not good.
The mob seemed to communicate in silence before the elderly one slowly inclined his head. "All right, clown. We'll do it but if you double cross us..."
"Would I do that?" The Joker grinned in mocking innocence, adding a low sweeping bow just to hear their teeth grind. "Come on, doll face. Time to go."
For the rest of the night, The Joker made frequent stops at a number of places, either threatening or coaxing people to get what he wanted. Sophie was, dare she admit it, enjoying his company. It wasn't as though he was showering affection or taking her on a date; it was the security Sophie found in his presence. The fierce, determined presence of a man on a mission. But was it really so? Did her infatuation blind her from the truth?
At the tender age of six, her parents had divorced. By pretending they were still together, Sophie had protected herself against the pain of their separation. Was this similar? Musing quietly in the dark, she did not realise the Joker had stopped walking until she found her nose pressed into his back.
"Ow," she murmured and stepped back, noting that he was as stiff as a statute, his body beginning to shake. Concerned, Sophie moved to stand just in front, peering up to see him grinning like a madman, eyes set on something behind her.
Following his direction, Sophie turned to find several policemen blocking the alley with Commissioner Gordon at the head, already brandishing his gun at the Joker.
"Sophie, you all right?" He called to her.
Was she all right? Physically, fantastic. Psychologically after spending just half a day with the Joker? Not really. Her head went up and down in a jerky interpretation of a nod. The Joker glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She wasn't running like a bat out of hell toward the officers; it almost seemed as though Sophie was inching behind him.
Giggling like a madman, the Joker gave the policemen a mocking salute, grinning from ear to ear as some of them jumped. Not Gordon though. Tough old goat.
"How did you...ah...find me...Jimmy-boy. Did dear Barbara tell you? Always was rather loose with her tongue." The Joker cackled, getting louder as Gordon bristled in anger. Obviously, the Commissioner knew the Joker was just being infuriating, but putting his wife in the mix? Not cool. Slowly creeping forward with the firearm raised to the Joker's chest, Gordon raised his other hand up in a pacifying gesture.
"This doesn't have to get ugly, Joker."
The Joker chuckled in such a dark, blood curling way that Sophie shivered delicately against his side. The pulse of his body was getting stronger; muscles flexing between the clothing and skin of his body. Was it possible that the Joker wasn't scared? Did he actually enjoy the idea of there being a death match? Judging by his vibrating form, it was clear he was definitely looking forward to spilling some blood.
"Oh, but I think it does. Ugliness is the next best step towards beauty."
As if on queue, one of the policemen went down at the back of the group, a scream of pain tearing from the bloody ruin of his throat. Blood splashed across his comrades; decorating them in the red liquid. The Joker let out a full-throated laugh. "See? It's so...pretty."
Clowns appeared on the rooftops above, sighting down numerous, powerful weapons. They didn't exactly have the officers outnumbered, but they certainly had them outgunned. Sophie felt the blood pumping through her body; and I need for fight or flight arose within her. Was it wise to stay with the Joker? Would he even let her live or would he kill her when he decided he didn't like her anymore?
Cross-fire exploded into the alley; the shots loud and almost deafening in the close confines. Sophie screamed in terror, going down on her knees behind the Joker, hands held protectively over her ears. Said man was now stalking towards the officers, straight for Gordon. It was impossible to comprehend what the Commissioner was shouting at the approaching psychopath over the gunfire. But as the Joker kept coming, it became obvious they were warnings.
Gordon fired.
Heart almost coming to a complete halt in her chest, Sophie stared wide-eyed at the Joker's back, thinking he had been shot. But by Gordon's expression, it was clear that had been a warning shot. The Joker leapt at him with the glee of a madman and the ferocity of a lion, pouncing on its prey. The two men tussled on the ground, each vying for the advantage over the other.
Sophie crawled closer on her belly, not even noticing the dirty ground or the fact that she was ruining the lilac dress. Despite the numbers, the clowns were slowly but surely driving the policemen back. The thud of flesh hitting flesh was audible even over the gunfire, or maybe it's because Sophie could barely hear it anymore. Gordon had managed to disarm the Joker, but couldn't stop the powerful criminal from delivering some serious punches.
The Commissioner grappled with the Joker, glaring into that smug, smiling face before kneeing him in the stomach.
"Ah..hee...oo...ah...hehe...hee," The Joker breathed above him. "Hit me harder, Gordon."
"Oh, I'll hit you harder." With every muscle in his body, Gordon just managed to kick the Joker off of him, scrambling for his firearm as the psychopath cackled at him from where he landed.
Now closer, Sophie let out a sobbing breath of fear as Gordon raised the retrieved firearm at the Joker.
Grinning like the cheshire cat, the Joker swept his arms out to the side. An open invitation. "Go on, Jimmy-boy. Let's see if ya got the balls."
Don't do it. Please don't to do it.
Sophie chanted in her mind over and over again. Hating the Joker for baiting him, and hating Gordon for even considering gunning down an unarmed man. The Commissioner seemed to sense disapproving eyes on him and turned his head just slightly to nod at her before the Joker collapsed to his knees.
The assailant was one of the clowns. It cursed down at the Joker. "I'm sick of following a fucking clown." The man shot the Joker again for good measure.
Sophie gaped, hardly able to believe her eyes. A clown had gunned down the Joker. How? The Joker was invincible, wasn't he? Without even realising it, Sophie was on her feet, all but sprinting to the Joker's side. Wet dirt and gravel went flying as she crouched beside him, meeting his dark, dark eyes. Blood was blossoming around his left shoulder, and lower down on his abdomen.
"Hold on." Sophie murmured, feeling tears prickling at her eyes. Why was she crying?
"Go, doll face. Get outta here."
"No." She said, suddenly fierce. Grabbing his gun, she mentally grimaced at how heavy it was. How did men manage to swing this around one-handed? Sensing Gordon behind her, she swivelled on her needs; the barrel coming to rest at the Commissioner's stomach. "Back off, Gordon."
Gordon could see something else in Sophie's eyes as he felt the gun pressed into his stomach. What had happened to her after spending so little time with the Joker? Had he manipulated her? The Commissioner frowned, raising his hands in a calming gesture, pointing his gun skyward.
"Now, Sophie. Easy. You don't know what you're doing."
The once serene grey eyes were now like ferocious, black storm clouds. If it were possible, Gordon wouldn't past there being lightning bolts shouting out of them. Though her body was trembling with adrenaline, Sophie just kept her gun hand steady; the ache in her arm from the weight slowly beginning to tire her. Keeping the gun on Gordon, Sophie began searching with her hand, touching the Joker's coat and following it to his arm.
Scooting backwards, Sophie linked her arm under the Joker's, forcing him into a sitting position. The Commissioner stayed as still as stone, doing nothing but watching in slight disbelief. The gunshots around them seemed to become a secondary presence. The Joker himself was in shock, staring at this young psychiatrist, risking herself to save hm. Using what remained of his strength, the Joker got unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily on the short woman, hearing her breath leave her in a gasp of effort.
One or the other. It was either grab the Joker or leave the gun.
"Give it here, Pea," The Joker made flicked his hand at her.
"Don't do it, Sophie!" Gordon was beginning to raise his gun again before the Joker yanked the gun out of Sophie's hand and shot the Commissioner deliberately in the thigh. Gordon went down with a shout, clutching at his wound. Sophie shivered in terror; the weight of the Joker and tension of the situation was almost too much.
Burying his face in her hair, the Joker inhaled the sweet scent of her. Never in his entire life had he felt this way about someone before. Sophie was soft, gentle and yet here she was, aiding him. A genuine smile flitted across the Joker's lips before his vision dimmed and he went limp against her, the gun falling from his grasp.
Sophie staggered under the dead weight, horror bursting into her veins. "No! No! Don't die!"
It took every screaming muscle in her body to collect the gun.
Forgetting about everything except the Joker, Sophie hastened away as fast as the male's heavy body would let her. Gordon watched her go, despair gripping him as he realised, in this short a time, Sophie had succumbed to the Joker's charms.
Breathing heavily; the ache in her limbs so profound, Sophie soon left the alley far behind. No one had followed and the Joker's unsteady breathing at her ear was starting to become less frequent. Snarling with frustration and exhaustion, Sophie hauled him towards an open street. There was hardly any traffic at this time of the morning. And there was no way in hell she could get him to a hospital without putting him back in Arkham.
With a shock, Sophie noticed they weren't too far from her apartment. The police were sure to check there but if she could just stabilise his wounds, she'd be able to move him elsewhere. One thing to worry about at a time. Continuing to struggle with the Joker's weight, Sophie crossed in the street in a painstakingly slow hobble.
Rarely had Sophie ever used the lift in the apartment building; it would have been hell to have to carry him up the two flights of stairs. Luckily, no one was up and about so late after midnight. Sophie cursed colourfully as she came to her door. Couldn't open doors without keys. And the keys to the door were in her locker...in the cafe. Lowering the Joker carefully to rest beside the door, Sophie frisked around in a pot plant nearby, having hid a spare if she ever lost the main keys.
As her fingers closed around the cool steel, immense relief swept through her. Fumbling at the door lock, it took her a staggering two minutes to finally open it and lug the Joker inside, closing the door as softly as she could. Everything was as she had left it. The Joker obviously hadn't wrecked her living room so with a great heave she put him on the couch, rolling him onto his back but making sure his head tilted to the side.
Before psychiatry, Sophie had had a profound interest in becoming a doctor or the nearest to it. She was almost positive that his life could be saved. Without wasting another second, Sophie dashed around the apartment, gathering everything she would need. Firstly, she applied towels to his wounds, soaking up the blood and using pressure to slow the bleeding. Kneeling by the couch, a wave of exhaustion had hit her without warning and she almost went face first into his blood.
"Jesus," she murmured, blinking away the sudden blur developing behind her eyes.
The Joker had to live.
Sophie listened steadily to his breathing; airways were clear, and the lungs hadn't been punctured. Though much to her panic, his heart was going downhill very quickly.
Until it stopped.
"No!" Sophie whispered angrily, immediately launching into cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Sudden strength enveloped her arms, giving her the energy to push down on his chest, leaning down to give him air, mentally counting in her head. The Joker remained lifeless despite her consistence. "No, no...no!"
Blood was beginning to show through the towels and she hastily replaced them; dumping the sodden ones uncaringly on her carpet. Pumping his chest and breathing air into his mouth, Sophie kept on, tears streaming in endless lines down her cheeks.
"Come on! Don't you die on me!"
Sophie had lost her father in a similar fashion, though he had had a heart attack. Despite working to save him for twenty minutes, she had failed. Sophie's mother had been proud of her, but died a couple of years later to depression. So many people around her had died. The Joker could not - will not be one of them!
Shaking like a leaf, Sophie gave his chest one last, lingering push, sobbing in relief as he sucked in a shaky breath before coughing.
"Doll face..." Brown eyes slid open to meet grey.
"Joker..." she murmured softly, raising up to curl her arms around the uninjured side of his chest. Against all odds, she had saved him.
The Joker took in a deep, shaking breath before letting it out in a soft sigh. He placed his hand weakly on her shoulder. Sophie's heart thrummed with anticipation.
"Who the fucking hell shot me?"
Well that was romantic.
*hides behind Joker cut out* Now dun you be throwing things at me, fangirls! He survived, dammit. If you've got any suggestions, flames or cheers, let me know!