AN:Well, I was sitting here thinking "Okay great chapters! I can update sometime next week or so" (*cough* months *cough*) but then, I was like "CRAP! Ch 10 goes with Ch 9!" *Sobs* Well here she is. I hope I didnt mess anything up. Enjoy!~~

Chapter Ten: Consuela

"And this is your bedroom." They came to a stop at the door thats in the very back of the West Wing. He opened the door and they stepped in. The walls were swirls of purple and green with a still pretty tall ceiling. The was a huge four poster bed that had a silk purple curtain and lots of purple fluffy pillows. The sheets were green and there a clown alarm clock on a matching wooden nightstand. It flashed 4:45. "Its mahogany." The Joker said as Tim rubbed one of the posts.

"It's great. Thanks, dad."

"Why don't you look in the closet? I got some clothes for you."

Tim without hesitation does as he's told. He opened the doors to a walk in closet thats filled with several different outfits all green and or purple in some way. On the far left of the closet was a mahogany dresser that had two large drawers and beneath them were three rows of the same black and white wingtips. Tim realized most of his clothes matched what he's seen his dad in. Only his clothes substitutes shorts for his dads pants.

"Theres going to be a party this evening around six. Nothing too fancy, but a lot of very important people will be there." The Joker went in and picked out a simple purple tailcoat and shorts with a green undershirt and bowtie. "First you should get a bath. You smell like shit. Then, I want you to put these on." The joker laid the clothes put on the bed then walked over a rope on the wall. He pulled it twice and a Hispanic woman came rushing in a few moments later.

"Yes, Master?" She asked with a thick accent. Looking from him to Tim.

"Timothy, this our maid, Consuela. Please bathe him and then get him ready for the party." He told her.

"Yes, sir. Right this way Master Timothy."

"I have to get ready too, but I'll see you at the party in about an hour, okay?"

"Okay."

"That's my boy!" He clapped his hand on his shoulder as a farewell and left him alone.

"This way Master Timothy." Consuela said again.

"Just call me Tim, okay?" He followed her out of his room and into a bathroom made for a king. The bathtub already had hot milky water in it. He took off his undershorts (his self consciousness lost days ago) and threw them into the trash hoping to never see them again. Consuela helped him take off his many bandages and threw them in with his shorts.

"What about the collar?" He asked unhopeful. "Can't it electrify the water if it gets submerged? Or it could short circuit and electrocute me. "

"I'm sorry Master Tim. I can not take it off for you." He had a feeling that she knew exactly what happens when you try to take one off.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, he merely shrugged as she helped him climb into the tub and slowly ease him in. He hissed in pain as the steamy water flooded his wounds, but soon, his muscles started to relax. She got a small hand towel and wrapped it around the collar. "There, it still can't be submerged but it helps yes?"

He soaked in the tub trying to relax as she washed him. She leaned him this way and that way, which was fine, until it came time to wash the grease, blood, and whatever else out of his hair. He had to lean his head back as far as he could without getting the collar wet. It hurt his bruised ribs, but eventually, he was all clean and had to get out.

The once steamy milky water is now pink and cold. All the dried blood and god know what else that was caked on has been washed away under Consuela's skilled hands. She dried him off and reapplied the few bandages he needed. Then she guided him back to his room to get dressed.

She brought out clean undershorts for him and knee high green socks. She attached a purple garter to his underwear to keep his socks up then put on the rest of the outfit. She slicked his hair back with a dark green gel and then dusted his face with a white power that clung to his skin. He didn't really understand why all of this was being done, but then again, he didn't really care either. Anything is better than that dark, putrid room.

She wiped off her hands and said, "Okay, one more thing and you're ready." She pulled an orange cylinder out of her pocket. "Hold out your hand." He did as he was told and she put a yellow pill in his hand.

"What is it?"

"Master understands that you have...special anxieties. He said to take one every day. "

"I don't know..." He said staring down at it. He has a nagging feeling all of a sudden. "I haven't really been feeling any anxieties."

"Please Master Tim. It will make you feel better...Its what your dad thinks is best. You've already taken them before, remember?"

"I have?" She nodded. "Well, okay."