My beautiful, beautiful readers! Thank you for being so patient with me and, like usual, I apologize for taking so long. First quarter = awesome.
I've been pretty distracted but I'm trying as hard as I can to find time for this story and post it. I shan't give up on it though! Ever! I love it--and all of you--too much!
Uhm... Modest Mouse has been bringing me through with this one. The song "I Came as a Rat" is phenominal for this story.
Thanks as always to my incredible beta, Tamara! She's awesome and I love her.
If you're into the film Labyrinth, you might get a kick out of my new story, Alone Down There.
As always, let me know what you think!!!!
Upon arriving back at the theater, the Joker told Jess to hurry up and "get all… pretty." She assumed this meant that she should put on more makeup and grab her top hat so she ran straight for the bathroom when the vans pulled into the lot.
Fifteen minutes and she was ready, which was a good thing, too, because as soon as she pulled the restroom door open, she found Jackson and Billy standing there, Jackson's fist raised, poised to knock. Billy was situated just behind his left shoulder, staring at the ground. He'd obviously been recruited to come and get her but doubtlessly hated every moment of it.
Jess shot him a bitter smile and touched her neck, where bruises had formed thanks to him that could only be covered up with a copious amount of concealer. She would not assuage his guilt. He had been an ass. Staring at the ground would be the only appropriate course of action in her presence.
"Oh good," Jackson said cheerfully, trying to ignore the tension between them. "You're ready. Boss says get in the car."
She followed them down the hall to the exit, where the Joker stood, dressed once again to the nines in purple, his makeup reapplied and hair pushed back like he was trying to be fancy. Jess smiled at him and he came forward, glancing at Billy with a malicious air and possessively sliding his arm around Jess's waist.
"Got a surprise for you, Jesster," he said as he pushed the door open.
Jess was momentarily blinded by brilliant sunlight, but after adjusting she looked around and immediately saw what he was talking about.
A beautiful, brand-new Jaguar stood in the lot, wheels glinting silver in the midday sun, rich black paint almost unfairly cool. The windows were tinted very dark, probably darker than was legal, the better to protect the identities of the occupants.
"Oh!" Jess said, walking towards it eagerly. She wasn't much of a car girl, but her dad had wanted this make and model ever since it came out at the beginning of the year. At least, she was almost certain it was the precise vehicle he'd coveted, the unmistakable sleek angles clearly communicating the elevated tax bracket of the owner. She touched the back window reverently as the Joker, Billy, Jackson and Blake started following.
"How d'you like this, guys?" Blake asked. "Ridin' in style!"
"Courtesy of Mr. Lau," Jackson said cheerfully, knocking on the trunk lid, from which a low cry was emitted.
Jess stopped and stared at back end of the car, eyebrows knitted. Apparently the Chinese accountant guy was along for the ride, though not buckled safely.
The Joker didn't look particularly impressed with the car and seemed apathetic about Jess's reaction as he casually tossed the keys to Blake, opened the back door and pushed Jess inside. Jackson climbed in the back through the other side, which would leave Jess sitting bitch between him and the Joker once he joined them. Billy inconspicuously claimed shotgun, most likely to avoid having to sit next to Jess.
It didn't turn out to be much of an issue, anyway. As soon as he was inside, the Joker pulled Jess towards him, leaned her against his chest and kept her there. She doubted any of these displays of affection were actually what they seemed. It was almost as if the Joker, ever observant of the details, knew what was entailed in the finer points of courting or a romantic relationship, but had either never had, or hadn't recently had, the opportunity to apply such knowledge. He was almost mimicking what might look romantic to the outside observer, which Jess found endlessly amusing, even if it was somewhat at her own expense.
She knew from the Joker's expression and ever shifting attention towards Billy that his main goal was to antagonize the other man. Jess smiled. He could do whatever he wanted in that regard.
They rode for about fifteen minutes. The men were endlessly fascinated with the smoothness of the shocks and brakes, and the ease with which the car would accelerate into higher gears. The Joker remained silent, staring out the window, a smile playing around his lips as he listened to the boys and tapped his fingers against Jess's collar bone.
Their destination turned out to be the port, where a large iron steamship was anchored to a dock. The Joker left the car casually, at ease and unafraid about any interloping law enforcement even as Billy and Blake pulled Lau from the trunk and got him to his feet. He was tied up and gagged. Jackson, meanwhile, pulled two gallon containers of gasoline from the car.
Jess found the attitude of nonchalance over the entire situation laughable; with no concern over security guards or nervousness about getting caught, they were dragging a kidnapped man from a stolen car to a criminal rendezvous in broad daylight. Only a month or two ago, Jess would have been having ducks, but in the Joker's presence she shared in the apparent lack of concern. She might even say she was having fun.
Jess stepped out into the beating sun and, barely sparing Lau a glance in case his life ended today, frowned at the boat, wondering why they were here. Billy was the only one who seemed worried, though Jess couldn't place whether it was about the situation at hand or their situation, and pulled his black hood up to cover his shock of auburn hair.
The answers to Jess's questions soon became apparent. They entered the vessel through a lower door, the Joker in the lead with Jess at his side, the men following behind, dragging Lau. The men struggled with unwieldy gas cans and thecumbersome hostage, as they moved further into ship. Narrow ladderwells and even narrower passageways, some rusted with time, seemed to be slowing the progress of everyone but the ever-agile Joker.
Finally, they came to an antechamber where they were greeted by a few mobsters who smiled nervously at the Joker and smiled slyly at Jess. All of a sudden, she had the unmistakable inkling that she was here to impress the other criminals: that the Joker had brought her as a kind of trophy. Not liking this in the least, Jess started to glower, turning her hateful expression up to her boss, who looked down at her and raised his eyebrows.
"Stop being so sour, doll," he said, emphasizing "doll" sarcastically. "We're here… to have fun…" He didn't look like he was in the mood to have fun. Once more, his whimsy had given way to focus. He looked dangerous.
She had seen these subtle changes to his demeanor before. To the untrained eye, he would appear to be a man unhinged, his ticks and shifting eyes the physical manifestation of inner turmoil and psychosis. To Jess, though, they indicated the preparedness and vigilance privy to a man who was acutely and personally aware that one must always expect the unexpected. The set of his jaw, the intensity in his gaze, the minute increase of tension—especially in his shoulders—all made him look ready to strike. Jess didn't doubt that he was.
Frightened of what disobeying him now would provoke, she stopped grimacing and came to terms with the fact that, as a woman, was going to be used as a symbol of the Joker's power. She even tried to be flattered by it, to little avail.
Flattered or not (and how could you not be whilst being leered at by less than scrupulous men with the audacity to assume they might ever have a shot in hell?), Jess smiled, playing the Jesster even if she didn't really feel it.
She trusted the Joker to keep her from death or, at the very least, to avenge her death if such a thing occurred. Having him at her side made her feel safe and protected. It was her boys she was worried about now. If Powers' death had proven anything, it was that even the infallible Joker was vulnerable to chance and luck; sometimes even his plans went wrong. Despite their alleged loyalty to the Joker, Jess didn't trust these gangsters as far as she could throw them. She couldn't watch what had happened to Powers happen to anyone else. She simply couldn't.
Walking deeper into the bowels of the ship with scarcely a word spoken, they came finally to a large chamber with rusted out walls (which made Jess second-guess the ship's sea worthiness) and smelling distinctly of iron. In the very center of the chamber, two massive piles of money—green, American bills—stood stacked in towering pyramids. Jess laughed at the unintentional comic display and disentangled herself from the Joker to start towards them, picking up a wad of cash and examining it. Every single bill was a hundred or more. Jess had never even seen a five hundred dollar bill, much less touched one, and as her fingers stroked the face of a stack of them, she grinned at the ludicrousness of the entire situation.
William McKinley was on the front of the bills. Who the fuck knew who William McKinley was?
She'd never been around anywhere near this quantity of money and, starting to get into character, decided she needed to climb the hill of it, like some kind of cartoon.
Her boys started chuckling to themselves as she kicked off her shoes and scrambled up the pile relatively gracefully. The mobsters around them regarded them with looks of surprise. This was business. How she was having fun here, at ease around someone like the Joker, was beyond them. Jess wasn't sure she would have done it if the situation seemed like it needed to be completely grim but, looking back at the Joker's calculating expression—as though he was impressed, amused and pensive at the same time—she knew he wasn't going to be angry. In fact, when she reached the top and peeked over the edge, unable to keep from laughing a little, the Joker had turned around, roughly grabbed Lau and was following her up the money pile, dragging the accountant after him.
Jess grinned at him, proud of herself. He'd thought she had a good idea!
The Joker sat Lau down forcibly once he'd crested the pile, giggling a little to himself at the gags and ties around his hands, then quickly bound his ankles. Lau remained unresponsive and blank. He seemed drugged, or resigned. Jess couldn't decide which of those was more depressing, and so she tried not to look at him.
Then, in a demonstration of his character that was so completely him, the Joker flopped down on his back and began making snow angels in the money. Jess laughed in delight and crawled over to sit beside him, playing with the bills, flipping and shuffling them like so many playing cards.
"Hey," the Joker said quietly, and Jess looked over to find he was staring at her, still lying with his head near her legs. He stretched an arm up, took hold of the front of her dress and pulled her down forcefully, mashing their lips together in a wild kiss, warmer and deeper than she thought a short embrace should be. Just as abruptly as he'd begun, however, he cut off when a metal door slammed somewhere and a group of men could be heard making their way to the room. It was odd, but Jess thought she heard dogs there, as well. She straightened up, on alert.
"Just the Chechen," the Joker mumbled, pursing his lips and settling deeper into the money.
"Hey, you!" someone from below yelled in a thick Russian accent, apparently to Billy, Blake or Jackson. "Where is the Joker-man?"
Jess couldn't see, but she assumed one of them had pointed to the pile of money, because the Joker immediately sat up as the Chechen turned his attention to him. Jess peeked over the wall of cash. The Russian mobster was every bit his own stereotype: greasy, slicked back hair, a deep set face complete with a scar on his forehead, and a too-expensive brown leather jacket. He even chewed on the end of a smoking cigar as he regarded the piles of money with an expression that clearly showed he was pleased.
The Joker scrambled to his feet, arms out to ensure his balance, as the Chechen addressed him.
"Not so crazy as you look!" he announced jovially.
A dog barked behind him and Jess excitedly turned to catch sight of three big, beautiful Rottweilers. She had to stifle a gasp. She was a sucker for animals and she hadn't seen a dog in months. These ones looked well cared for and rather kind, but obviously defensive of their master.
"I told you…" the Joker said, walking to the edge of the pile and using Lau's head momentarily for balance. "I'm a man of my word!" With that, he jumped and slid down the slope of money, performing a perfect dismount. Jess smiled. "Where's the Italian?"
"More for us," the Chechen proffered, and the Joker shrugged and turned back to the pile of bills, throwing a handful of wadded cash harshly at Lau and Jess.
"Jesster, get down," he ordered and Jess, without a second thought, slid down the back side of the pile even as the Joker continued to chuck money at Lau like a target at a carnival. The Chechen's eyes flickered to Jess curiously as she stood and smoothed her wrinkled dress, then looked at the approaching, smiling Russian gangsters and walked quickly away to stand with Billy, Blake and Jackson. She didn't like these Russian guys. They all looked like they wanted to make a meal of her.
"Please," the Chechen said, "Joker-man, what do you do with all your money?"
The Joker turned his attention back to the mob boss, abandoning his target, and began in a low, serious tone.
"You see, I'm a guy of simple tastes," he said, pulling a silver gun from inside his coat and making exaggerated gestures with it. "I enjoy, uh… dynamite and gunpowder… and gasoline!" This last word was called back to the boys with a certain air of authority and Billy grabbed the gas can from Jackson, walking forward to begin pouring it all over the pile of bills.
Jess started to smile. The Chechen started to get nervous.
"What's this?" he demanded, walking forward. The Joker casually turned his gun on him, forcing him to halt.
"Ah-ta-ta-ta-ta," he hushed him, glancing back to see how Billy was doing. Once satisfied with the progress, he turned back to the Chechen. "And you know the thing that they have in common? They're cheap." He approached the mob boss, smiling. Jess bit her lip as she looked at him.
Burning his money…
Her J was a genius, and even though she didn't quite get his point yet, she had a feeling she would be impressed.
"You said you were a man of your word," the Chechen said, a little desperately. Jess giggled. This was getting more exciting every second that ticked by.
"Oh, I am," the Joker replied, reaching forward and plucking the cigar from between the Chechen's teeth. He looked at it, blew on both sides—for good measure—to light the sparks and then said, "I'm only burning my half." He then threw it on the pile of money.
Though Jess didn't consider herself a greedy person by any means, she briefly felt the tiniest flicker of regret over seeing such a massive fortune burn. This knee-jerk reaction was quickly overshadowed, however, by the expression of utter horror and loss on the face of the Chechen.
The Joker wasn't greedy. He wasn't doing this for money. Oh, no. And that pleased her greatly.
A thought occurred to Jess then which sent a shiver down her spine.
Though public opinion would brand the Joker "evil;" condemn him along with his actions, motivations, ideals and principles—which he clearly had—they had no power over him. None whatsoever. Law enforcement, government and media had labeled the Joker a criminal and a madman, a neat package to define what they simply couldn't understand. The public accepted this, convincing themselves they were nothing like this abhorrent creature. In this sense, the mindless masses of Gotham were no different from the sheep grazing around Jess' world. They were all living in little glass houses, lobbing bricks of self-deceit and sin. They each stood on a moral high ground that existed only in their heads.
Her pain, blood, torment, sweat, tears and turmoil now seemed a small toll to pay for access to the road she traveled. The sharp realization that the Joker was responsible for her liberation, and the liberation of the Twenty, was like breathing for the first time.
"All you care about is money," the Joker said, staring the Chechen right in the eyes as his dogs began to bark. "This town deserves a better class of criminal," he declared with conviction, "and I'm gonna give it to them." He glanced behind the Chechen to the barking dogs and the passively observing Russian gangsters. Jess remembered being told that their loyalty had already been won by the Joker. "Tell your men they work for me, now," the Joker said, pointing at the mob boss with his gun. "This is my city."
This, there was no doubt, was the truth.
The Chechen set his jaw.
"They won't work for a freak," he replied.
Jess tightened her fists but didn't move when she noticed the Chechen's own men approaching their one-time boss menacingly.
"A freak," the Joker whispered, impersonating the Chechen's heavy accent. He drew out a switchblade and flicked it open in front of the Chechen's face. "Why don't we cut you up into little pieces and feed you to your pooches?" He tossed his knife to one of the approaching gangsters. "Hm? And then we'll see how loyal a hungry dog really is."
As he spoke, his point was demonstrated by the Chechen's former employees as they grabbed him by the arms and started to drag him forcibly back towards his dogs. This betrayal marked only the latest example of the Joker's distinctive brand of poetic justice, one Jess was learning to revel in.
She stared at him now, past the point of turned on; she could scarcely keep from simply jumping on him here and now. His confidence, abilities and way of making everything work for him were somehow the sexiest things about him. The raw power when he spoke tinged the air, threatening and charged. Continual underestimation of his abilities kept bringing incredibly powerful (and egotistical) men literally to their knees.
It was, in a word, awesome.
He started to dig in the pocket of his coat, searching for something, and finally withdrew a small cellular phone. Jess's eyes widened as she looked at it. It was hers! It had been confiscated the first day she'd come here. She hadn't seen it until now.
That thing had reception in another universe?
"It's not about money," the Joker muttered, checking the time quickly and then dialing a rapid number. "It's about sending a message." Jess licked her lips, wanting so badly to ambush him and drag him to a dark corner. His ideals… They were perfection. "Everything burns," he announced to the room at large, putting the ringing phone to his ear.
Jess wondered who it was, walking up to him now that everyone else was preoccupied by the Chechen's fate.
"Mr. Reese," he began, once the other line had picked up, forcing his voice into that of a little old lady. Jess had to slap her hands over her mouth as a burst of giggles welled up in her throat. He was on the phone with that guy who was going to give up Batman's identity! "What's more important: one life or a hundred?"
The person on the other end—presumably Coleman Reese—gave his answer.
"Okay," said the Joker, still disguising his voice (and doing a damn fine job of it), "let's say it's your life. Is it worth more than the lives of several hundred others?"
Jess could only imagine Reese shakily exclaiming, "Of course not!"
"I'm glad you feel that way," the Joker said. "Because I've put a bomb in one of the city's hospitals. It's going off in sixty minutes unless someone kills you."
Apparently the speaker on the other end asked who he was. The Joker smiled.
"Just a concerned citizen," he said, impersonating an old lady. Then, his tone dropped to its regular pitch, "—and a regular guy…"
Jess smiled at him widely.
"I had a vision," the Joker said, "of a world without Batman… The mob ground out a little profit and the police tried to shut them down one block at a time, and it was so… boring." Jess grinned. "I've had a change of heart. I don't want Mr. Reese spoiling everything, but why should I have all the fun? Let's give someone else a chance! If Coleman Reese isn't dead in sixty minutes, then I blow up a hospital. Of course… you could always kill yourself, Mr. Reese. But, uh that would be the noble thing to do. And you're a lawyer."
The Joker nodded, brought down the phone and hung up, pocketing it. He turned to Jess and grinned.
"Ready, Jesster?" he asked.
Jess stared up at him with wide eyes, the corners of her mouth turned up in a devilish grin. Today had shown her something else that was in the Joker. She couldn't put words to it, but it was a new facet that completely captivated her.
She realized she was in love with him.
Jess blinked, frowned and looked away, incredibly disturbed by this thought. What? How? Why? When?!
The Joker?
She checked herself, wondering if the idea would go away. No… No, still there… It was persistent, in her head and in her heart. She laughed breathily, eyes wide as she unpredictably started to tear up a bit. She sniffed and brought her gaze up to his again, wanting to scream her new found realization, tell him everything she felt. She wanted him to reciprocate.
Thing was, she knew he didn't. Or, if he did, she knew he wouldn't say. Perhaps even couldn't say.
That knowledge didn't hurt as much as it seemed it should. She'd never expected him to feel such a deep affection for her as love and her own being—passionate, spontaneous, wild—was prone to fall in love with nearly everyone.
She simply knew she'd found her match in him, whatever the consequences were. He had freed here—not changed her life, but given her an entirely new one. She wished she could somehow tell him, thank him. She knew she couldn't.
"You're amazing," she said instead, trying to convey her wonder for him in the same breath. As soon as the words left her mouth, however, she promptly wished she had lodged her foot there instead. He frowned at her facial expression and regarded her pensively, licking his teeth behind closed lips.
Finally, he voiced a quiet, "Hm…" and turned away, motioning that she was to follow him. Jess recovered from her state and followed without delay.
Once back in the car, the energy suddenly took on a distinct feeling of urgency. Blake veritably raced down the pier, back to the main road, while Jess craned around in her seat to look back at the barge.
"Hey," she said, frowning, "wait… Where's the Chinese dude?"
Jackson smiled tightly.
"Did you bring him down off the pile of fiery money?" he asked. "I didn't."
"Me neither," Blake said from the front, obviously trying to laugh off the horrendous thought. Jess swallowed back bile and settled against the Joker, never less than comforted just by touching him. He was solid but warm and secure, even if he didn't mean to be… and Jess was relatively sure he didn't.
Suddenly, the car came to a screeching halt. Jess sat up, surprised, and looked out the front window to find a parked ambulance blocking the road leaving the shipyard. Two men leaned against the front bumper, arms folded, watching the Jaguar. They wore white medical coats and blue scrubs. Jess frowned. What were doctors doing here?
Blake parked and stepped out of the driver's side door.
"Hey guys!" she heard him call amiably. The Joker followed him, opening the door and hailing the men around the ambulance with a casual little wave, almost dismissive. Jess trailed along behind, stepping curiously out of the car.
She had to squint her eyes before she realized that the two men were Laurence and Andrew, dressed in hospital attire. And driving an ambulance.
Oh Jesus.
Jess could only imagine.
The Joker turned and unceremoniously grabbed Jess's wrist, pulling her along towards them. Laurence had tossed Blake a set of scrubs and he was pulling them on over his clothes. Jess was relatively sure he was with her in that he had no idea what they were going to do, but he said nothing. The men were getting really good at merely riding along on the boss's flow, something Jess simply could not perfect, no matter how she tried.
"Oh, Jesster's coming along, too?" Drew asked, aiming his query at the Joker, who simply raised his eyebrows as though that much should be clear. He was pulling her along, after all. If she wasn't coming, she would still be in the car. "We didn't bring anything for her… Here, Jess, you can have my coat…" He slipped out of the white medical jacket he wore and slung it over her shoulders.
Still frowning, Jess slipped her arms into it and buttoned it up the front, checking out her reflection in the driver's side window. She brushed her hair behind her ears, trying to attain a look of professionalism which was completely offset by her whimsical makeup. She wrinkled her nose.
"Not convincing," she told her reflection.
Drew laughed and withdrew a pair of reading glasses from the paper bag by his feet, the one from which he had withdrawn Blake's costume, handing them to Jess. She set them on her nose and looked back up. From a distance she'd look fairly credible as a young intern or resident, and that was good enough.
While she'd been examining herself, the Joker had climbed into the back of the ambulance, after sending a few parting orders towards Blake and Laurence. Drew followed him, Laurence swapped Blake and started strolling towards the Jag, and Blake paced around to climb inside the passenger side door. Jess realized the implications of this suddenly.
"Oh, uh-uh," she said, ripping the driver's side door open and staring at Blake, who was buckling up. "No. I'm not driving this thing. That's your area."
"Uh, that's where you're wrong, Jesster," the Joker said suddenly, popping his head between the front seats and meeting her eyes. "You're no use inside the building."
Jess really had to restrain herself from punching him across his smug face, especially as he flashed her that evil grin and disappeared into the back again.
"You'll do good," Drew told her from the back, laughing despite himself at her affronted expression. "When we unload, just take this around to the back of the hospital and park it by the school busses. The others will meet you there. Oh, yeah. Boss, they're all in position."
There was a moment of silence, as though Drew had expected the Joker to congratulate him, and then Jess cleared her throat and climbed in the front seat. Her hands were shaking slightly as she reached for the ignition and pulled the seat forward. New cars, especially ones as large and ungainly as an ambulance—you had to have a new license to even legally drive that shit!—made her anxious.
The heels weren't helping, so she kicked them off and threw them into the back area, immediately regretting the blind toss as she heard one shoe collide with something that went "ow." She glanced back to see the nonplussed face of the Joker, staring murderously at the offending shoe. Holding back her laughter, she started up the vehicle.
Driving in Gotham was like driving in New York in the middle of a perpetual rush hour, and Jess's nonexistent map of the area made so that things became pretty stressful. They put the siren on as soon as they merged onto the main road, so cars jumped out of their way relatively frequently, but Blake was awful at giving directions and Jess found herself being way too heavy on the brakes and making jerky, sudden turns at first.
It was when she'd gotten used to the handling that she started noticing the bumps and curses coming from the back.
Sparing a glance in the rearview mirror, she watched the Joker topple against the gurney back there, clad only in boxers, while trying to slip on a white garment in which he'd gotten entangled as the truck lurched.
She grinned and gunned the gas right as he straightened up, which made him trip back against the doors, then she tapped the brakes, plunging him headfirst against the driver's seat. The solid impact his body made, coupled with the sound of his little growl, gave her an enormous sense of satisfaction, even as he reached through the gap beneath the headrest and grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging twice.
"Be. Careful," he ordered. Jess laughed and tried to tip her head forward, prevented by the firm grasp he had on her hair.
"J, don't distract me. I'm driving," she said, hitting the brakes.
He lost his footing and bounced back with a growl of rage, which suddenly turned into a breathy chuckle as he took a seat on the gurney and pulled on the rest of his costume. Jess cast her attention back to the road.
They arrived at the hospital in due course.
Drew instructed Jess to simply pull up near the front and cut the gas so they could get out. Once they were inside the building, she was supposed to wait two minutes before starting the vehicle again and rendezvousing with some other men, who would by waiting around back by their personal school bus.
Jess took mental notes, afraid her adrenaline and excitement might somehow compromise her ability to follow simple instructions. She didn't lack confidence in herself so much as she feared that some unforeseen circumstance--a too-alert cop, a curious nurse—might foil them. This would be absolutely horrid timing for her to make a mistake, so Jess was painstakingly careful as she drove.
The parking lot was packed with people, at work already loading the sick and dying into ambulances and the healthier among them into crowded buses. Evacuating a hospital seemed like no easy task, but it allowed the men to remain unnoticed as they hopped out of the ambulance and made their wayleisurely towards the building's entrance.
Jess started to giggle suddenly when she saw the Joker. He was dressed in a short white nurse's outfit—costume more than functional—and a hideous red wig. He wore a paper mask over the lower half of his face, to cover his signature red grin, and when he looked back through the window to find her laughing at him, he blatantly wiggled his hips as he walked, for a moment seeming convincingly feminine. Then, he disappeared inside.
Jess sighed again. After the initial shock of the realization, it wasn't hard to consider him The-Man-She-Loved.
She thought over just how he'd take it if she told him… Probably not well at all. She could see him assuming she was out of her mind or that she'd lost her worth in allowing her affections to reach such a pinnacle. He might try to dissuade her… or he might try to kill her. Either way, the more she thought it over, the more certain she became that she would never tell him.
Even if it was burning to be let out.
Even if she was burning to know exactly how he felt… if his feelings matched hers on any level or if he felt anything at all.
He couldn't empathize with anyone, but that wasn't the same as love. And, if he did love her, it would be as twisted as his psyche, and more than obsessive. Did she really want that kind of thing? The prospect of him loving her was as frightening as it was appealing, and…
Oh, yes, she wanted that more than anything.
She knew he, at the least, felt strongly protective and possessive of her. She knew he wanted her physically and he enjoyed kissing and touching her. She even knew he, in some ways, liked being around her, and he didn't make a secret out of seeking out her company.
God, that had to count for something, didn't it?!
That sounded a little like love… right?
Jess shook her head, needing the physical stimulation to clear her mind and focus.
Finding the other men was a piece of cake. As soon as she pulled the car around to the back lot, she was able to spot four or five of them, lounging against the bus, chatting casually to each other. Sometimes they'd help someone step on, if a superior pointed the person their way, and this made Jess go cold.
They were taking on hostages?! Oh, Christ. Oh, oh Christ.
"What are you doing?" she asked as soon as she parked the ambulance beside them—not as easy a task as it sounded—and left it.
Instead of answering, the men simply shrugged at her, as though to say, "What does it look like?" and helped an old lady step onboard. Jess sighed.
Whatever the Joker was planning, there was little she could do about it. So, she leaned against the side of the bus next to Jackson, folded her arms and waited.
REVIEW PLEASE!! :) I'll love you forever!!!!
The way Jess loves the Joker...
Heh.