Hooray, I'm onto the next chapter! Yay! Good for me! And for you guys. Enjoy, my readers. You are the reason I do what I do.
(Yeah, I know every writer here tells you that. But hey, it's true.)
Josephine emerged from the bedroom, having spent the majority of the afternoon there. She didn't do anything inappropriate, only laid there with him, talking about nothing in general, enjoying each other's company in a new light. It was beautiful. For the first time, she saw something in another person –interacted with them in a way she thought wonderful in every way. He loved her. He loved her. She couldn't stop repeating it over and over again.
There were few words –no, there were little words that could describe Josephine's emotions as she walked down the hallways that evening, a smile spread across her face. She hugged herself in the wonder that it could be true. That indeed it was true that the man she was in love with, loved her in return. She felt like jumping into a tree or just running around the house until she collapsed on the grass. She felt like doing nothing and something. It was…so confusing for her, but so welcomed! She loved him! She loved him!
She hung onto the banister when she caught sight of Firetongue at the bottom of the stairs, arms full of branches for the fire. He walked by but caught sight of her and waited down at the bottom. She stood there, blank –but her lips erupted into a smile she could not suppress.
He widened his eyes and quirked a brow. She nodded slowly, still smiling. His look depressed. He turned abruptly away for the fireplace.
Josephine was confused at first but then realized that he lost the bargain. Her face fell. His feelings were stronger than he looked. She watched as he tossed a branch into the burning pit, blowing on it. There was little sadness for him. He didn't trust her. She was in love with Jonathan Crane. He loved her back. The world seemed right.
The next morning, she rose from bed, eager to see the professor before too long. They had not slept in the same bed together because Josephine was not sure about it. The professor graciously complied. Neither felt pressured by it. She went downstairs and gathered some breakfast, lugging it upstairs for the two of them. She crept into the room. The professor was still fast asleep.
She set the tray down. The gentle clink awakened him, sending him into a fright.
"Who's there? Josephine? Josephine, is that you"
"Yes," she neared him.
"I want you here." He sleepily patted the bed. She complied, crawling over the bed so that she was halfway on top of him.
"Mmmm…" he soundly said, reaching out for her. He caught her face in his hand. "My Josephine," he held her cheek lightly. Josephine lent into his palm, feeling the warm creep over his skin. She breathed him in, knowing that she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush, but not caring whatsoever. She kissed his palm and crawled to the side nearest the tray and leant her head on his pillow.
"Good morning," she yawned. "Mmm, not quite woken up yet it seems."
"It is now," he said, tilting in her direction. She scooted closer so their lips met briefly. "I never am going to get tired of that."
"Oh really? Why did you wait for so long then?" A glimmer of amusement sparkled behind her eyes, enriching her smile.
He sighed loudly. "Perhaps I took so long because there were certain cases I thought would be against me. Besides, it isn't exactly the line of work you look for romance –especially a forty something lifelong bachelor." He stated it so matter-of-factly that Josephine couldn't help but argue.
"That isn't a reason why that wouldn't happen. You're just not so keen on opening up to the ladies professor," she poked his arm. "But you needn't worry about that problem anymore," she dismissed the idea with a flourish. Her legs kicked over the side and brought the tray closer to him. "Now, I have a feast for you: French toast, eggs, bacon, and orange juice. All made by moi." She took a bite out of one of the bacon slices, closing her eyes and crunching on the sweet taste. "Mmm…delicious if I do say so myself." She patted his hand. "Eat up," came with a muffled mouthful.
"Smells delicious. Is this what I'm to expect from now on? Breakfast in bed?"
Josephine gave him a glittering smile. "Until you get back on your feet. Then you'll be cooking me breakfast."
"You may be sorry about that."
"It's chemistry, doctor. You should excel in it. Besides, I'll enjoy a meal in bed for once. All work and no play can take it's toll?"
"Will it be breakfast in bed, Josephine? Are you sure about that?"
"About what?"
"About you living with me? You're…happy with that?"
Josephine swallowed her bacon, eyebrows knit. "Oh course I am. As long as Joker doesn't catch us, it's fine.
"We live in Gotham. It's a difficult place to avoid him."
"Maybe we won't always be in Gotham." The words hung loose in the air.
"Leave Gotham? Why? I still have work ahead of me. Gotham's screams are what I desire, Josephine. You know that. Their terror rises above most pleasures."
"Hopefully not my pleasures." She stopped. "Well that was out before I could stop it." A blush crept over her cheeks. "I didn't mean to say that."
"It's…alright if you talk about that with me…now is the time since we're both…well…"
"I know," she held his hand. "I do love you Jonathan. I want you to know that. Please know that. All I want is for Joker to never find you again. The last time…I'm afraid to think about it being worse."
"You watched it happen. You did find some enjoyment in it."
Her cheeks colored. "I was ten! Maybe younger! I followed everything my father said. I thought it was alright. You did betray him." She cast down her gaze. "But that wasn't an excuse for what he did. Villain team-ups never workout." She sighed heavily, pinching her eyes shut. "That damn chair. I'm afraid to think about it now."
"We're just going to have to make sure he never finds me, then, or you for that matter. What will he do to you?"
"I don't know, but if he manages to find us, it's not going to be pretty. We'll just have to be careful." She lay down beside him again. "Jonathan. If leaving Gotham would keep you safe, would you do it? Even if it meant giving up Scarecrow?"
"I've been beaten, cut, spat on, broken, bruised, and slandered for most of my life. What Joker had in store for me couldn't be worse…but if I knew you saw any of that, it would hurt me more now. Its strange now, Josephine. I feel changed, yet I'm not. I'm still the same person but knowing how you feel makes me think more about my actions. I know I sound like a romantic or something awful like that, but it is true. Love does change things. I used to believe love was a farse."
Josephine snuggled closer to him, placing a hand on his arm and rubbing it softly. "You never experienced it before. You were…hurt a lot when you were younger, right? That's when it started to happen, the fixations, the obsessions, the studying to become who you are. But what if your life was different? What if you had your parents and they loved you and you found someone and married her and lead a normal life. You never would have met me. Do you think about things like that?"
"I never purposely wandered into the depths of my childhood unless in my nightmares. Only you can know this."
"I think about it. What if my father never had his accident? What if my mother never met and fell in love with him. I'd never exist. I owe my existence to madness, I guess."
"There is brightness to Joker's existence." He reached out and touched her hair. "Sometimes when I saw you when you started working for me with the Joker and his henchmen, I would think to myself why she always did what he said and why she didn't run away with me. I thought I was mad, that my old age would drive you off."
"You're not old!"
"I'm 47, dear."
"Well you don't look it."
"You flatter me, my dear."
"I like a man with maturity."
"Of a grandfather clock."
"No!" She smacked him. "Stop saying things like that. You're perfectly fine the way you are."
"I'm not handsome Josephine, don't pretend to deny it. Even if I cannot see you I know that you are making your disagreeable face. I love it because it is completely you. You are very beautiful, Josephine."
Tears formed in her eyes from the softness in his voice. Since the previous day, she had never heard such heartfelt words from a man or from him. She leant down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Jonathan. You're more handsome than any, even if you don't believe it."
She sat up and spied the tray left uneaten. "The food, oh now it's ruined. It's cold."
"I don't care." He felt around for the tray and picked up some bacon. "Bon appetite."
The trees were aligned in fire and euphoric green when Josephine and Firetongue took a stroll outside that evening. It was near dusk, but the sin still shone over the hills, bleaching the ground white where the most intense heat was. Josephine suggested a walk together to gather her thought about everything. She needed a good ear to listen to her before she told Jonathan anything.
Firetongue trod along beside her almost two yards away. He picked up a branch and began whipping it through the air. Whoosh. Whoosh. He frowned deeply. Chap bounded ahead, enjoying his freedom outside. After being cooped up forever in the city, a week in the woods was doing wonders for the pooch. He ran back and forth, giving kisses to Josephine or Firetongue whenever he came near.
"He likes you, you know," she smiled at him, while Chap ran along beside him, nipping at one of the stitches on his pants. Firetongue pet him on the head.
"Maybe…he can stay with you if I have to leave."
Firetongue knelt down to Chap, allowing him to lick over his face. The cool tongue relaxed the burns from his scars. He scratched Chap's ear harder.
"He'd be pleased with you, I think. He'd make you happy."
Firetongue pressed his forehead to Chaps. The hyena closed his mouth and whined softly. He sat on his hindquarters, enjoying his rub down.
"I love him, but I can't bring him everywhere. You could stay here." She flourished an arm. "It's nice and you won't be bothered. Chap loves it. I think you do too."
The light overhead grew dimmer –now an orange glow over the trees. Josephine laid down, splaying her arms, massaging the grass. She closed her eyes.
"I'm going to miss this place. I'm not very sentimental, definitely not in the past….but I can enjoy things now." She sighed and smiled. "It's not all about the killing and maiming and getting back who needs getting back. Now I can just, leave." She paused, breathing deeply. " But I do love this. Maybe I can go somewhere like it. "
A rustling sounded beside her. She opened her eyes, glancing towards the fire breather who had left Chap and was standing. He started off in the opposite direction.
"'tongue? 'tongue!"
She sat up, launching herself on her feet to catch up to him. He was stomping into the dirt. Chap was growling and biting himself. Such behavior, thought Josephine. What's wrong with that hyena? She caught up to Firetongue in a few long strides, handling him on the shoulder. "Firetongue?"
He shoved her off and kept up. She stepped backward, arms out to balance. Her face morphed to anger. "Firetongue, stop now!"
He whipped around. You don't command me anymore. You're leaving, remember? Go on, go to your professor. He's all you care about now.
"Stop it! Just because I'm happy now and don't want to go around Gotham protesting that I'm some great model of terror for the citizens anymore, that I'm somehow wronging you? No, I'm sorry that you feel like I'm abandoning you. I'm sorry that what you told me suggests that you may be in love with me, though I don't know why, we've hardly since starting last week. Just….stop thinking about me, or not care. I don't care." She massaged the bridge between her eyes. "Firetongue," she began, still firm, but adopting a softer tone, "I'm entrusting you with Chap. He's my last connection to my father. I love him. Take good care of him. He likes you. He'll be loyal. Stay or don't stay. It's up to you."
Suddenly feeling exhausted, she began trudging back to the house. Chap was not with her. For once, she was glad.
She got up to the white brick home, but was greeted with a new sight. Off in the distance, she spied a can incoming. It was black and spotless. It was down the road a ways, but in any case, it spelled trouble. Looking back, she saw Firetongue emerge from the woods. She motioned him closer. He gave that look of anger toward her, but she shot a similar one back and kept motioning forward. When he came closer, she pointed to the van.
What do we do?
"I don't know who it could be. But chances are they're not here by accident."
The van stopped. The lights went out. A few men got out. Two were darkly colored. Another was very pale and wore worn leather clothing. Josephine froze.
Jack.
What do we do?
Josephine shook her head, watching the men with a keen curiosity. He was no doubt coming to collect her, or to finish her off. She had an answer for him. He'd be wearing it for the rest of his life.
"I don't know." She peered closer. "Look! They're not armed. I guess they're continuing on foot. What the hell do they want?"
Trouble. I'm going to get the guns.
She grabbed his arm. "No, don't yet. Of they don't have weapons they must be trying some diplomatic bull shit." She glared hard on the specks in the distance. Jack held up a hand, donning sunglasses and made a peace sign. She shook her head, lips pursed. "Jackass."
Want me to fry them?
"Kind, but no. Do all you want if they try something."
The two started across the meadow towards the van as did Jack with the goons. Thoughts again started to swirl around her noggin. Once at peace, again at war. Did the universe ever think that she deserved to be happy, ever? Sure, bad things happened. Sure, she caused bad things to other people. Killing, hurting, maiming…emotional pain…heartache…
Her gait slowed. She rigidly carried herself. She did do a lot of damage to the city. That was a joke, right. It was always a joke. She enjoyed doing all that. Watching people scream was exciting, seeing them all bloody and broken made a gleeful smile across her father's face. She stopped. Firetongue went ahead, but looked back when she did so. Was it what she loved? Her father? What did he have on her now? She liked that stuff, didn't she? It wouldn't matter now, because it's in the past and she was going away, but now the past seemed…incomplete. Did she really enjoy pain form…innocents? Of course of Jack was on the guillotine, nothing would keep her from lowering the blade on his neck, cackling all the way. That was different. People who did wrong were something very different. She shook her head.
Eventually the two parties met at the center of the field. Jack was at the head along with Josephine, smiling like an idiot who just got his reward for an A plus on a science report. But there was something else in his expression. Something in his eyes. Things were not all well.
"Hey Clown Princess. How's it going?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I have connections. You know, there are a lot more people that don't like you than you think."
"I don't care who you know. I want you out. Didn't I say that you were going to be punished if you followed me?" Her lip curled.
"Aw, Josie, why are you so cruel to me?" He reached out and fingered her jaw for a millisecond before she grasped his wrist and pulled it into an awkward angle. "Ah-yah! Stop that hurts!" The men he was with steeped forward, ready for action, but Josephine let go. Jack stretched the wrist and looked back with mock hurt. "Why so angry with me?"
"How does your boss like it that you treat me like this? Shouldn't he be angry at you?"
Jack smiled to himself, his gaze to the throbbing muscle. "The Joker's days are numbered. He's not fit for Gotham anymore. If you haven't noticed, the industry is taking over, meaning the loyalties are slimming on the whole "Gotham rogue" type. Being a baddie isn't what's going to get you power anymore. Its money. And I have plenty of it."
"Yet you can't afford better fashion taste," said Josephine replied in monotone.
"I don't give a shit about that, Princess." She smiled. He grimaced. Turning his head, he started pacing. "The bad part of it all is that Joker knows something's up. I'm losing him. The weapons aren't enough to satisfy and I'm looking at a deep cut."
"That you completely deserve right now. You still don't get it do you? He doesn't care about you, Jack. You've never been safe."
Jack went on. "What I need you to do is to tell your dear old daddy that I'm the better choice over you. That you have no interest in running the business and that a masculine touch is what it needs." He adopted a baby voice. "You think you can do that for me?"
Josephine smiled. Big. "SO, what you're saying is that you need my help to overthrow my father, possibly killing him so that you can achieve a power kick and take over Gotham? What, next you're going to buy out Wayne?" She laughed. "You're a bigger fool than I thought. I'm never going to help you. "
"Oh, but you've already helped me, Josie Girl." He smiled. "Why are you out here all alone? With a sweetheart."
"Firetongue's here for my protection. We're the only ones."
"Liar. Filthy liar who even lies to her own father. You're here with Scarecrow. Eh eh don't even try to deny it." He wagged his finger. "I know it." He tapped his nose. "You've been working for him, haven't you? For the past, oh I don't know, two years maybe? Yeah, I found out. I watched you. They've." He pointed to some men behind. "been watching you. Ever since that fateful night. Remember?"
Josephine took a closer look at the men dressed in all black. They were not clowns, not the Joker's men. They did look familiar. She took a step back. They were. The two who attacked her that night were in the same ensemble. She froze.
"How did you get the Italians on your side? They hate all clowns."
"At first, they were wary, but when they found that my allegiance was less than the natural blonde in your mother's fair, they agreed to work for me. Right boys?"
One approached. He pushed past Jack and stood a couple feet from Josephine. He spit on the ground in front of her, mouth curled into a hateful frown. "You killed the Falcone boy. You dead, Clown Princess." He quirked his lip and pointed his index and pinky on his right hand towards her heart. He stepped backwards, keeping eye contact.
"Well that was fun," said Jack. "Now, I'm going to leave and let that marinate in your little noggin and come back soon. You think about that. Maybe I'll get you pardoned," he looked to the Italians who were staring hard, "then again, maybe not. Tough spot, Josephine, might want to think about all the details. Ciao." He waggled his fingers.
Josephine became bold. "Give me two weeks. I'll have an answer then. But you might not want to wager against it, else you become a stew from the acid tank."
"Alright, two weeks, then you say yay or nay. Yay," he leaned in close, "and we can have some fun together that the professor could never teach you, alright?" He breathed in her scent, making her want to taste her vomit over smelling him. "Well, goodbye, Josephine, I hope that Scarecrow didn't ruin you for me."
Firetongue held her back whilst Jack and his men disappeared to the van and into the night.
A/N: The sign the Italian makes is a traditional Italian sign for "death to you" or "curse you." You can look it up if you want.