It was raining when the Joker and I arrived outside by the Volvo and the black van. The Lieutenant was thrown into the back of the van, and the majority of the Joker's guys were climbing into the van, filling up the space rather rapidly.
I hesitated, hardly noticing the rain pouring down on my head. I didn't want to go into the van because he was in there, but I also didn't want to ride in the other car where the Joker and I had…shall I be honest, made-out. With the memory rushing back, I shivered, feeling tormented by remembering the way I had lost myself in the pleasure of being so close to the Joker.
"You wanna melt?" Dean asked from beside me. I started, looking at him with wide eyes; I hadn't noticed him sneaking up on me. He waited patiently while I regained control over myself. "Which car, Shadow?"
"I'll drive," I told him.
Dean grinned and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the keys to the Volvo and tossed them at me as he headed toward the passenger's side. My hand snapped out, snatching them out of the air, and I kept my hand raised for a few moments before dropping it.
"Hey, Sha-dow, you, ah, gonna drive?" the Joker asked, coming to my side.
I heaved a sigh, raising my eyes to the night sky. "Yes, I am," I said, exasperated.
"Well, you might want to, ah, to get in the car." He giggled and then started to bounce toward the car, only to groan softly and slow to a heavy walk as he grabbed at his wounded shoulder. I watched him as he went to the backdoor, pulling it open with a wince. He had pulled off his jacket to reveal the blood seeping through his hexagonal shirt. The fight against Batman had opened his wound, letting blood flow freely. His shoulder went limp as he stepped into the car, a grimace on his face.
"C'mon, Shadow," Dean called as Peter stepped into the other side of the Volvo, getting into the backseat with a medical bag.
I walked toward the driver's door, pulling it open. I climbed in and adjusted the seat forward – since I was smaller than the dead guy who had driven us to the party. Dean sat in the passenger's side, his gun lying on his lap with it pointed toward his door.
The van was already pulling out, but I stepped on the gas. The Volvo shot forward, narrowly avoiding colliding with the van. I raced down the street at forty, flicking on the headlights.
I kept my eyes on the road, unless I had to glance for a second at the side or rearview mirror. However, the rearview mirror didn't show the road or the van behind me. The Joker had positioned himself so that he was directly in my view, and my eyes caught his every time I checked the mirror.
I tried to avoid looking, but it was a habit with driving. The Joker's eyes never moved; they were staring at mine every time I looked, even if I adjusted my head slightly. A few times, I caught the Joker in the middle of a wince as Peter patched up his wounded shoulder, but otherwise, I felt a stab of fear when the Joker looked at me.
His motionless gaze distracted me, making my disturbance worse. I didn't watch what I was doing as I took a sharp turn, cutting in front of a truck and clipping its left side.
I jumped when the truck driver honked at me. In my fright, I stepped on the brake, and the truck rammed into the Volvo from behind, having no time to brake. I switched my foot to gas pedal, and the Volvo jerked forward.
"Shadow, brake!" the Joker ordered, abruptly.
I slammed on the brake, jerking everyone forward with their momentum. We came to a halt, and I sat there, shaking.
"Pull over to the side," the Joker instructed calmly. I obeyed numbly as my heart pounded furiously in my chest. My trembling had become worse, and I felt a lump rising in my throat. My eyes stung, but I blinked harshly several times; this was the worst time to cry.
"Now, get out of the car and talk to the fellow." I looked up in the rearview mirror to catch the Joker's eyes, mine wide in silent horror. He simply stared back, impassively.
I checked my side mirror to see that the truck driver had pulled up behind me, and he was in the process of climbing out of his car. Shaky, I opened my door and stepped out.
"Woman! What did you think you were doing?" the man demanded. I shrank back from him, still hanging to my car door. He was a big guy driving a truck, and he was wearing a baseball cap. From experience, that was a stereotype of a driver that was very scary when they were angry.
The truck driver continued to yell, swearing angrily as he approached me. "You stupid bitch! Driving recklessly like that! You hit my truck, damnit! And stopped so that I hit your piece of-!"
The backdoor of my car opened, and the Joker stepped out, turning to face the driver. The other driver stopped dead, halfway between the Volvo and his truck, silencing himself in mid-sentence with his eyes nearly popping out of his head at the sight of the Joker.
"Got a problem, sir?" the clown asked, calmly as he slammed his door shut, pulling his vest straight.
The truck driver's mouth gapped as he struggled to find words. He started shaking with fear as the Joker moved slowly toward the trunk of the Volvo, his hand sliding along the silver car's surface, his eyes intent on the driver.
"Oh, hell!" the driver said, and then spun on his heel to run toward his car. The Joker lurched forward, racing after the big man, and he slammed him into the front of his truck. Grappling roughly, the Joker pinned the driver on the car hood, pressing his cheek hard into the hood.
I started forward before stopping at the Volvo's trunk, my hand on the back. I heard the unmistakable click of the Joker's switchblade as the Joker grabbed a handful of the driver's hair, turning his head in a painfully awkward position so that the driver could see the Joker's face and me.
"I heard what-ah you said to the fine lady over there," the Joker growled, angrily. He pressed his switchblade to the driver's lips, cutting a thin line into the corner of his mouth. I knew how sensitive the mouth was because of all the nerves, but it still shocked me when the big man started crying instantly.
"You real-ly shouldn't have said those things," the Joker drawled. "It makes me angry to, ah, to hear such words coming from a man's mouth, aimed at a woman. What makes me angrier still…is that your vulgar language was aimed at…my…girl." My eyes widened in surprise. Was I hearing things?
The driver's eyes widened as he looked at me, but then, the Joker jerked his head, forcing him to look into his furious eyes. "I don't-ah ap-pre-ciate you talking to my girl like that!" I had to be imagining those words, I just had to be. "And do you wanna guess what-ah I do to men like you?" the Joker asked, his voice sinister.
"No…" the truck driver sobbed.
The menacing Glasgow grin stretched across the Joker's face, and his shoulders shook as he tried without much success to control his laughter. He pulled the truck driver's cheek taut, readying the switchblade that waited in the man's mouth. The man cried, tears spilling from his eyes.
The Joker had no mercy. He violently ripped his switchblade out of the man's mouth through his cheek.
I looked away with a pained grimace and then started running. My Skechers slammed full force into forming puddles on the street. The water splashed onto my leather pants, but it only slipped off, keeping me dry. Not like I cared at that moment. I felt the rain dripping on my head, but by the blurriness in my eyes, I knew that it wasn't just water that was running down my face.
As I turned the corner onto the next street, I heard someone calling my name. I kept running, diving into the first alley that I came to. My foot slipped on water, and I fell to the ground, only to scramble back to my feet to continue running. I ran straight into a deadend, and I stayed there, gazing up into the night sky, blinking as raindrops hit my eyes.
Overwhelming despair flooded through me, bringing a rapid swirl of emotions. I smashed my fists against the brick wall, crying out in agony with the hit, with my emotions, with him. I couldn't believe that he was here in Gotham City. Of all places, here!
"Shadow?"
"Leave me alone, Joker!" I yelled in anguish as I spun, turning my back on the wall. "I can't believe you did that to that poor man…"
"I wasn't going to let him get away with speak-ing to you like that-ah," the Joker growled in response. "And I thought I told you-."
"I don't care if you want to be called 'Mister J' or 'Joker'. It's irrelevant!"
"What's wrong, Shadow?" the Joker demanded from the exit of the alley.
"What do you mean 'what's wrong'?"
"Ex-act-ly what I said." I just blinked, looking up at the rain again. I heard the Joker's footsteps in the water on the ground, and I lowered my eyes, watching him advance, looking like he was stalking toward me…with care…
"Don't come near me," I said, struggling against my conflicting emotions. My voice was small, so he might not have heard me. The Joker didn't slow his approach. My heart pounded with fear as the purple-clad Clown Prince of Crime drew nearer. I stepped back, pressing against the brick wall. The Joker slowed as he reached a short distance away from me, and he halted directly in front of me.
I stared into his eyes for a few moments, seeing a strange emotion glinting in the Joker's brown orbs. I felt a drawing to that emotion that struggled against many others inside the man standing in front of me.
"Shadow…" the Joker whispered, his scarred lips hardly moving. He was leaning toward me, placing his hands on the brick wall on either side of my head. My heart pounded furiously as the Joker's breath mingled with mine, his lips brushing mine.
I couldn't take it; I had no control. My hand rose and slapped him across the face. Even as his head jerked to the side, tears sprung up in my eyes. Then, I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder, and I sobbed, choking on my tears.
I clung to the Joker tightly, trembling against him. He hesitated, before giving in and wrapping his arms around me just as firmly. I felt like a child in his strong embrace, enclosed in his warmth and his scent. I inhaled deeply, smelling a mixture of him and the rain that pounded on our heads.
"This isn't like you," I cried, pressing my cheek to his shoulder.
"You don't see…me…twenty-four seven."
I laughed weakly. "Who are you and what did you do with the Joker?" I asked.
The Joker chuckled softly, his laughter rumbling through his chest, and I smiled lightly. I felt him push me back against the wall, and I looked up at him, raising a hand to wipe my eyes.
The Joker stopped me and then brushed my eyes gently with his gloved hand. "You've got water in your eyes."
I laughed, in spite of myself.
The Joker took my hand and started toward the alley mouth, but I pulled away. He stopped and half-turned, tilting his head with curiosity at my refusal.
"I can't go back," I said quietly, stepping back against the wall again.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Not yet…" I brushed my hair back, out of my eyes and then looked at him. "I'll meet you there. I've just had…had lots of things happen tonight." The memory of me making out with the man before me flashed across my mind, followed by the sight of the man I hated most, with a passion. "I need to clear my head."
The Joker blinked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He played with his scarred mouth for a few moments as he thought over his decision. I expected him to say "no" and to make me go back with him, but the Joker's middle name is…'unpredictable'.
"I want you back before one," he said. "If you're late…" He took out the switchblade he had used on the truck driver, the blade still blood covered. As he turned it in his hands, I understood the point he was trying to make. His eyes lifted from the bloodied blade, catching mine, and I gave him a small nod.
The Joker's scarred lips stretched into his infamous Glasgow smile. He closed his switchblade before turning on his heel and leaving me alone in the alley.
Four hours of walking out in the rain did nothing to help me, but I returned to the warehouse, soaked through and feeling cold. The Joker was waiting for me in the main hangar, sitting on the van's hood. When he spotted me, he slid off, shaking out of his jacket.
"No, Joker, I don't-," I started to protest, but he placed finger over my mouth, silencing me. He took my soaked jacket off me and replaced it with his own. A second later, he had me cradled in his arms, carrying me up the stairs and down the hall to our shared bedroom.
He left the room to let me change my wet clothes and then returned when I was crawling under the blankets. I had my back facing the door and him so I didn't see why he was hesitating, but he eventually slipped under the covers with me.
Before I fell asleep, I rolled over and curled into him, shivering but gradually relaxing as his intense body heat seeped into my cold skin.
It came to no surprise when I awoke and found the Joker gone. Since he had left me with his jacket, I doubted he had left the building. I didn't want to get out of bed. I felt sick to my stomach, my heart twisted in my chest.
Despite the sickness, I crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom, taking the Joker's jacket with me, draped over my shoulders. Splashing cold water on my face and down my neck didn't help, but at least I had tried.
The bedroom door opened, and a gust of wind moved into the room, causing me to shiver.
"Shadow?" His voice sounded confused, like he expected me to still be in bed.
"In here." I had left the bathroom door open so I could see his expression reflecting in the mirror. Two seconds later, the clown stood in the doorway, looking at me strangely.
"You okay?" he asked, eyebrows lowered into a frown under the black mascara.
I was leaning over the sink, my hands grasping the edge tightly. My eyes were closed as I rocked myself slightly. It hurt. My chest felt like pressure was building from my heart.
I flinched when I felt a pair of strong hands grabbed my waist gently. For a second, the pain disappeared, vanishing and allowing me to breathe. But a second is only as long as a second, and the pain came crashing in again, restricting my breathing ability. I couldn't stop the tears that slipped from my eyes because of my chest pain.
One of his hands slid down from my waist, reaching down to my knees before he slipped his arm under them. He picked me up, cradling me, and that only made the pain worse as everything was restricted more. I muffled a cry of agony by burying my face into his shoulder as he carried me over to the bed. He sat down, holding me in his lap.
"Shadow…" he breathed, his voice gentle, soothing.
But it didn't help the pain. "Don't," I said, weakly struggling in his arms. "I can't…need to…" I was panting with the effort to breathe, and the pain became worse. My chest felt crushed in his arms, filled with unbearable pressure.
A cool hand touched my forehead, causing me to shiver. "You're warm," he stated, placing his fingers to my cheek. "Shadow, feeling okay?"
I looked up at him, positive that he could see the pain and fever in my eyes. "It's nothing," I said, meekly. "It's happened before…" I trailed off, closing my eyes. He shifted his hold on me and laid me on the bed. I stretched out, relieving some of the pressure, but making myself more vulnerable to the coldness in the air around me. To keep my body heat, I slipped my arms into the clown's jacket sleeves.
Something clicked on the nightstand close to my head, but I didn't react to it. The bed lowered a bit as the Joker climbed up beside me, lying on his side and pulling me into him. I let him, feeling drained of energy.
We lied there for a long time, the minutes ticking by unnoticed. The pressure continued to ease away as I focused all my thoughts on the man holding me. He gave me plenty to pay attention to with his constant movement; he was restless but seemed content to stay.
"You don't have to babysit me," I mumbled, my lips barely moving.
"I'm not," he growled, irritated. I had interrupted whatever thoughts were racing through his head, and I hoped they weren't related to me. "You're an adult. You can take care of yourself. If I was babysitting you, I'd have made you drink something awhile ago." A smile stretched over his scarred lips. "Actually, I'd have forced it down your throat."
"Is that what you were thinking of?" I asked, turning my head and noticing the glass of water sitting on the nightstand. I licked my dry lips, propping myself up on my elbows to reach for the glass as I said, "You're thinking of different ways to hurt me? Mad at me for getting sick?"
The Joker watched me, his eyes wide, as I drained the glass of water, setting it back on the table and propping my back against the headboard, leaning my head back to the wall. "Why would you think that, Shadow?" he asked. "When was the last time I hurt you?"
I noticed that he wasn't denying my accusation. "You talking physical, mental, or emotional?" Under my eyelashes, I caught him wincing.
"How 'bout you name each one?" he said, hesitantly as he turned onto his stomach, his chin in his hand, his elbow propping him.
I heaved a deep sigh and said, "I don't know if I should tell you."
"I've been nothing but honest with you, Shadow," he pressed. "It's been the same the other way around. Don't break the record now."
"You weren't honest about your first scar story."
"But I made up for it," he protested, lifting his head.
I closed my eyes, heaving a sigh of irritation. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"
"I figured I'd give Bleak a break."
Opening my eyes, I arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm not the only one you bother? What did Bleak do to you?"
A smirk appeared on his face, waving his hand dismissively. I took that as the only answer he was going to give me: None of your business.
"You haven't answered my question," he said.
"Which one?"
"About hurting you."
I rested my head back against the wall again. "Can't remember physical hurting anywhere…but mental and emotional…" I refused to look at him. "Both were last night."
"The truck driver?" he asked, sounding surprised.
"No…" I turned my head away, unwilling to state the reason.
The Joker shifted beside me, pushing himself up and sliding up against the headboard beside me. His hand found mine, and he intertwined his fingers with mine. I felt his warm breath on my neck as he brought his lips to my ear. "You can tell me, Shadow. You said so yourself, when you told me your theory about me" – I nodded, remembering how he had stormed out afterwards – "You considered me a friend because…I understood you better than anyone else you knew, better than, ah, your best friend."
I drew my legs into my chest, hugging them as I rested my chin on my knees. The pressure in my chest was still there, but it felt more like someone pushing a hand on me, something I could bear. "I hope you're not just using that because you want to know," I said quietly. "I take that seriously when I call someone a friend. I haven't had many, especially not since I was used by the Mob."
The Joker lowered his lips from my ear to my neck. "You think I'm that kinda guy?"
"I don't know what to think," I snapped, aggravated, as I jerked away from him. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him. Without saying anything, he pressed his head against mine, like a dog nuzzling its owner. I shoved his face away with a hand, but he came back, this time burying his face into my vulnerable neck.
My resolve to ignore him broke as he pressed his lips to the curve between my neck and shoulder. I stiffened, unable to take this particular behavior from the Joker, of all people. He trailed up my neck, making me squirm. I felt a smile stretch over his scarred lips as he hesitated under my jaw.
"You shouldn't be doing that," I manage to say. "I'm sick."
"It's just ah fever," he mumbled, his words reverberating in my throat. I shivered and tried again to pull away, but his grip was firm, especially when he wrapped his other arm around me. He leaned to the side and forward, and even though I tried not to, I fell with him onto his side.
A giggle rumbled through him as he slid his legs under mine, kicking himself and I away from the headboard. Then, he shifted underneath me, turning onto his back and rotating me so that I laid on top of him, facing him.
"No," I protested sharply, pushing away from him. He tightened his embrace on me, and barked with laughter at my resistance.
"You look worried, Shadow," he laughed. "What's the, ah, prob-lem?"
"I don't like this," I growled, pushing against the bed again. The Joker had the advantage over me, being stronger and being the healthy one. I continued to struggle against his hold until I collapsed atop him, pretty much sprawled over him, causing him to giggle cheerfully. "Joker, this isn't funny," I snapped.
His shoulders moved in a shrug as he was busy laughing harder. I placed my hands on the bed at either side of his head and pushed myself up a bit so I could see his face, enough so that he wasn't tightening his hold to keep me down. The Joker watched me with curious eyes, his mouth twitching with a smile.
I glared at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"'Course I am," he giggled.
"Well, I'm not, and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me go."
"All right-ah." I blinked with surprise as he released me, clasping his hands and placing them behind his head. He played with his mouth, blinking back at me for a few seconds before lowering his eyebrows. "Yah gonna get off?"
I rolled myself off him, landing on my back, but I dragged myself back to the headboard, using it as a back support.
My eyes didn't leave the Joker, lying there calmly beside me. I didn't understand him, particularly not today. I couldn't comprehend his emotions; he seemed calm, gentle, and, well, playful…like a puppy, though a puppy-dog wouldn't be this calm. There was a possibility that this was just the calm before the storm, but for some unknown reason, I doubted that. The fact that he seemed content to just stay here and lie on the bed, with me beside him…
Something must be different. That could be the only reason. Something happened earlier while I was sleeping that made him happy, cheerful like this. This wasn't his usual happy self, but it was still him, just…happier. It made me wonder if Batman had come for a friendly visit – though that was clearly impossible since Batman was bent on throwing the Joker into Arkham so that he didn't have to worry about him for a few months.
I threw my legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for an elastic on my nightstand. Pulling my hair back, I stood up and moved around the bed, heading for the door. I was about two feet from it when I heard the bed creak violently and within a flash, the Joker was standing between me and the door.
By then, I had finished putting up my hair, and I let my hands drop to my hips, tilting my head back slightly to look him in the eyes. "Any reason why you're blocking the door, Mistah J?"
His brow frowned suspiciously. "You're not going to, ah, to rest?"
"Can't," I said with a shrug. "I'm wide awake. I'm not going to feel tired for a bit." He opened his mouth to protest, but I quickly put a finger to his lips, cocking my head slightly and narrowing my eyes. "Besides, didn't you say earlier that I was an adult, capable of taking care of myself?"
He was speechless for a moment and then grinned, his lips tickling my finger. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into his chest comfortably. Moving his head so his mouth was freed from my finger, he asked, "Wanna go out?"
"Not when I'm sick," I laughed, hoping he didn't take it seriously.
"Don't worry, it'd be fun," he said cheerfully, reaching behind him and opening the door. I smiled, glad he didn't take what I had said seriously. Letting him lead me, I simply watched his face, the pressure in my chest vanishing completely as I particularly glowed inside at seeing the Joker happy like this.
It was unique to see the Joker this happy. He giggled loudly as he bounced down the hallway, at a pace I could keep up with. Stopping suddenly, he jerked on my arm and bent down, swiping an arm underneath me and sweeping me up into his arms. I gasped with surprise, clinging to his neck, causing him to laugh at my lack of trust as he raced down the rest of the hallway.
However, his laughter cut off, and he halted abruptly when he reached the metal catwalk. Curious as to why, I turned my head, looking down to locate the reason. The Joker set me on my feet and dropped his hold on me completely. I released him too, stepping forward and gripping the railing, leaning forward slightly as I located the reason for his sudden stop.
The Riddler, who was leaning casually against a red Mercedes, straightened as he looked up at us, resting a hand over his curved cane handle, the other reaching for the green bowler hat with a black question mark resting on his head. "Greetings, Joker," he called, tipping his hat slightly. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
Beside me, the Joker stiffened, and I looked at him, seeing his expression visibly darken. He didn't take his eyes off of the Riddler as he headed down the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. I quickly moved after him, but once he hit the landing, he held up a hand to motion me to stop. Confused, I obeyed, watching him as he sauntered over to where the Riddler waited.
As soon as he reached him, the Joker leaped forward and grabbed the Riddler by the front of his green jacket, slamming him back against the Mercedes. Worried that he was going to lose it, I shadowed closer, standing ten feet away from them so I could hear them.
"There's a difference between you and me, Edward," the Joker growled, his eyes narrowed dangerously. He held his switchblade to the Riddler's mouth, testing him. "Unlike you, I can control my, ah, impulses."
"Control them?" the Riddler said, arching an eyebrow under his eyemask. He winced as the Joker slammed him against the Mercedes again.
"Do you want your other hand broken?" the Joker demanded with a growl.
"No, one's bad enough, thanks," the Riddler said, grudgingly as if he lifted his free hand, showing how the red glove covering it looked a bit bulkier.
The Joker's eyes darted past him, looking into the Mercedes' windows. "You came alone?" he barked. "Do you have a death wish?"
"Not in particular," the other criminal replied, cooly. "But I have a different reason to come here." The clown's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It's just not for you." That drew an angry growl from the madman.
"What's your reason then?" I asked, stepping forward. The Riddler's eyes darted towards me, a smirk making its way on his face.
"You probably shouldn't let the woman wear your jacket, clown," the Riddler said to the Joker. "It gives people the wrong impression about you two."
"What do I care about what people think?" the Joker demanded.
"I know you don't care, but what about Shadow? Ever bothered to ask how she felt about the possible rumors."
"The rumors can run from mouth to mouth," I said, breaking into the conversation again. "It doesn't bother me, even if they are incorrect." I hadn't heard any rumors, but I had a creative imagination so I could just image what people could be saying about the Joker and I, being a couple. "People can believe what they want. The Joker and I are partners-in-crime, nothing more. Doesn't matter what people say, the only ones to know the real truth are us and now, if you believe us, you. So enough of the chit-chat, Riddler."
The Riddler whistled. "Quite an intelligent one," he commented. "I just wish you were working for me, not him." He jerked his head at the Joker, forgetting the clown had a knife to his face. With a startled gasp, the Riddler jerked away, a thin line of blood seeping slowly from a wound on his cheek.
"Don't cry, Riddler," I remarked. "It's only a scratch."
The Joker, unable to contain himself, started laughing as the Riddler glared in my direction. "I think it'd be better if Shadow stays with me, Edward," he told the other criminal. "You, being a very serious guy, probably couldn't handle her sarcasm." He cackled with laughter as he shoved the Riddler away from him, knocking him into the Mercedes again as he stepped back. "Now, what are you here for, Edward?"
"I came to talk to Shadow," the Riddler explained, straightening his jacket. "As I already told you, I'm not here for you, especially not after you broke my hand."
"Don't take it personally," I advised him. "Mister J does it on a whim." I glanced at the Joker, seeing that he was giving me a stern look. "Unless it's you, I guess." Turning my head back, I said, "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"I'd rather say it in private."
The Joker stepped forward threateningly, but I threw out an arm, blocking him from the Riddler. With a serious look, I said, "What you have to say to me can be heard by his ears too."
He chuckled, a deep sounding laugh that failed to hide his nervousness. "No offense, but are you being a little too cautious?"
"I'm not afraid of you, Riddler," I said darkly, "I just don't trust you." I narrowed my eyes as he opened his mouth to speak. "Believe me; it's rare that I trust someone anymore. Mister J here was lucky." With a slight smile, I added, "And per-sis-tent." Behind me, he giggled softly, amused by my mimicry of how he spoke, empathizing only part of the word.
His eyes darting between me and the Joker, the Riddler reached up and tightened his necktie slightly. "Very well, if that's how you want to play this game-."
"That's how I intend to play it," I shot in, causing the Joker to erupt with laughter, like I had made some witty remark – which I had.
The Riddler's expression darkened slightly, and he took a step forward. That step was all he took before a gun barrel was pointed directly in his face. The Joker had mimicked my stance, his arm hovering over my right shoulder as he held the weapon at his puzzling rival.
"She annoys you just as fast as I do," the Joker giggled, clearly enjoying how the Riddler was reacting. "You definitely wouldn't be able to handle her, if she worked with you, or even for you. She tends to speak her mind quite often." He smirked, his tongue sliding out to the beginning of a scar. "But like Shadow's said, enough of the chit-chat, and speak your own mind before something happens to it." He quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe ah-nother magic trick I haven't shown you yet?"
The Riddler's eyes lifted from the gun to the Joker's, and his narrowed. He had no response to the clown's question, so he didn't give one. Then, his gaze flickered to mine. Stepping back, his eyes intent on mine, the Riddler cleared his throat. "It is, and it is not. It is here, but it is not. It is this, and it is that. It covers the green-eyed one. It is vigilant, brightly colored, overseen by a personage of brilliance. It is guardian. It seeks the harmless being that exists in light and dark. Diligent, it comes, for fear of rivalry. It wants one thing, but wants not another. One it is; multiple it is not, but it is. The bird in is its preparation, unless feather plucked."
Lordlink13: There's chapter 29 for ya all. Just thought I'd warn you all now, school's starting up again, but it's not just school, it's college. So I can't guarantee that I'll be able to keep up with the chapter a week, especially this week since I'm packing up and getting ready to go. Not to mention that you all caught up to me in writing chapters – I used to be ahead by at least two chapters, but now all I have in store is literally nothing. I promise to try to get the next chapter up by next Sunday, but please don't be angry with me if I miss the deadline. I honestly had hoped I'd be able to finish this story before I started my education again, but I guess that didn't work out. I'll keep working on this, but I don't want to make a promise that I might not be able to keep. The only guarantee I can give you is that I will finish this story. I don't like leaving people hanging.