Joker fell back onto the sofa utterly exhausted. He had had a very productive week. Monday, he held up a bank, and blew up another. Tuesday, he drove a semi three miles down the freeway going the wrong at 80 miles an hour. That had been quite fun, and the battle with Batman was even better. Batsy had been out for revenge judging by the size of his bruises. Wednesday had been a quite day, just laying dynamite under fifth street (thank goodness for sewers) and ridding the world of a few Batman impersonators. Thursday, held a Kindergarten classroom hostage while proceeding to blow up Fifth street and escaping in the chaos. Friday, he fiddled with a few of his inventions. Batman was getting cleverer and if he wanted to really be a threat, he needed to remain unpredictable. Besides, if you read the comic books, all supervillains had nifty technology and gadgets, so he did too. Then again, with that logic he should be running around in spandex. Hmmm... he could probably pull it off, though his dignity would be lost forever. No, he would stick with his suit. Finally, today he had just pulled a few shenanigans, caused a bit of tomfoolery. It was nothing big, just enough to keep the officials running in circles. He laughed as he stretched his wary muscles. Yes, he had had a very good week.
He sighed and absent-mindedly scratched at his cheek. He'd burnt gotten a bit of a sunburn last week and he was beginning to peel. He started wiping paint off his fingers, before realizing that he had just broken his one rule. You do not let anyone see your real face. If it is hit off, that is fine because it shows toughness, but something like itching, something so weak and common, NO! He had to correct this situation, but he was quite aways from his room to reapply the paint, and he honestly could not bare another second with it on. He would need to find an opportunity to ditch the boys. And luck was on his side, for a ruckus drew his attention from his dilemma to a fight outside. He casually opened the door and leaned against the frame, covering the blemish with his left hand.
"What is this gentlemen?" he asked pleasently. The sound of his voice halted the tussle. "I have had a long week, and cannot relax knowing that anyone within a five mile radius can hear you. Do you want to bring the cops down on us?" They men muttered a weak 'no' and looked down ashamed. They were like children being caught with their hands in a cookie jar. Oh, fear was a wonderful tool! "That's wonderful news, glad to know we're on the same page then. Now, to make sure this does not happen again, out!" He received five very confused looks. Suddenly, they no longer understood English.
"Sir, it won't happen again. Please-" He was cut off as an elongated gun barrel was stuck in his face.
"I said out," he hissed dangerously. These were the intelligent ones of the group, and they knew he would kill them if he felt the need to. Without another word, they ran out of sight. Just to get his point across, he pulled the trigger so a loud bang and a flag was emitted. His flag gun, it was his favorite childhood memory. With a giggle, he waved the flag around before pushing it back in. He had saved his allowance for a month to get this and had had such a good time with it. Despite his dislike of guns, this did humor him. Maybe he could put it to some good use. After all, a gun did come in handy at times. The door slammed somewhere in the distance and he was alone.
He dropped his hand and made his way into the bathroom and proceeded to wash off the paint. It was a time consuming job as the paint was actually quite stubborn when wet. It would have been easier to just wipe it off, but the water was soothing to the burn and it got more dead skin off. It would not do to have lumps in his paint. Once the paint was off, he patted his skin dry and leaned in close to the mirror to inspect his scars. The scar tissue was smooth and harder than the rest of his face. Directly off the corner of his mouth the skin was flat and normal, but around the incision mark, it was raised and bumpy. A momentary flash of anger shot through him, but he suppressed that. It had been three years and the one behind it was dead. It was time to let it go.
He sighed and headed for his room, changed into a purple t-shirt and green lounge pants then headed back to the sitting room, resuming his previous position. He was not really tired anymore, but did not want to do anything, so he flipped on the news. Maybe he would be on it again today!
"Our hopes and prayers go out to their families. Back to you Jim," the reporter signed off. So he had just missed the tail end of his story. That was fine with him; the follow up stories were always so dull and contrived with their false sympathy. No, the first day was always the best.
"Thank you Susan. That is truly awful. On a lighter note though, Defense Attorney Harvey Dent and newly recovered Assistant D.A. Rachel Dawes are finding something to celebrate in these dark times. In an interview today to discuss her recent captivity at the hands of the notorious Joker, it was discovered that she and Mr. Dent are planning on tying the knot sometime next summer. Here's a clip for you." Joker smiled at the glowing Miss Dawes, but not because he was happy to hear the news, but because this would simply make his plans easier. With Rachel gone, Harvey would snap like a twig.
And speaking of Rachel, he needed to pay her a little visit. In all this bliss she may have forgotten about their agreement and let something slip, not that she knew all that much, or anything really, but she needed to stay afraid of him. Plus, he had perfected his tracking device and needed someone to test it on. Just place it in contact with the skin and it would mold itself to the host until he signaled it to fall away. Although he had a mental grip on Rachel and he probably would not need this, it never hurt to have a little back-up. With this happy thought, he allowed himself to be claimed by sleep and drifted into happy dreams of bombs and bats.
A/N: Again, another short chapter. I wanted to write this although I did not really need it. Someone mentioned that it was odd that he just let her go, and I thought this might explain that. Plus, who doesn't like an all Joker chapter! It also reveals a little of what has been going on in Gotham as we knew he was planning on being busy. Also, you may notice that I begin to blend Ledger's Joker with the comic book a bit in the way of some of his toys and what not, and hopefully that does not bother anyone. My thinking is that Batman Begins was the start of Batman, so The Dark Knight was like the start of Joker. He'll eventually get somewhere near there, but still be extremely dark. I just really like the Bang Gun! Well, please review, though I don't think I have to ask.