Chapter 2- Sweet as Sugar

"We should go." Casey said quietly as police cars and firetrucks sped up the street towards them.

"Now that's an idea."

He tossed the remote over his shoulder and followed her down an alleyway.

"There they are!" Voices of policemen shouted.

"Shit!" Casey hissed as the policemen came towards them with guns.

"Run?"

"Run!"

They sprinted away down twisting and turning alleys as fast as they could. They both knew the city well so it wasn't too much of a struggle. Suddenly Casey pulled him into a narrow space between two apartment blocks.

"Why did ya-"

She put her hand over Jack's mouth to shut him up and held a finger to her lips.

The police ran past, completely missing them. She slowly let her hands return to her sides.

They both breathed heavily for a couple of seconds.

"So you wanna get a drink?" Casey asked casually.

"So... tell me about yourself, sugar."

Casey raised an eyebrow, "Sugar?"

"Yeah, 'cause y'know you're such a sweet, caring person." Jack said with a wide grin.

She chuckled, "I am, aren't I?"

She swirled her Scotch around the bottom of her glass.

"There's not much to tell really... I grew up just outside of Gotham in some shitty little apartment with my mom. Things started to go... to hell, so I caught a train into the city. Found myself in a bar one night, when Tony Vincenzo turns up and buys me a drink. Next thing I know I'm doing weekly Friday night shows at the Sweet Kitten."

"That was you?!" He almost choked on his drink.

"You were a fan?" She looked sideways at him, smirking.

He loosened the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, clearing his throat and laughing nervously. "Me? I, uh... No, of course not..."

Casey knocked back the rest of her drink and slammed the glass down on the table, the handcuffs dangling from her wrist.

Both of them were sat with their feet up, in a corner leather booth of a dark, dusty bar on the outskirts of Gotham. It was near to the abandoned hotel Casey called home.

"Soon enough though, Tony realised I knew my way around a weapon when some guys jumped us in the street. They all got their heads blown off and I got a promotion. Recently, I've started being a little more independent in my work."

"That is alllways more fun." He smirked.

"I have a question." She said as she splashed out another drink for herself.

"Shoot." He leant forward, tapping his own glass. "Not literally." He added quickly, remembering the gun in her bag.

Casey poured the Scotch into his glass, the melting ice cubes sliding over each other. "What do you look like without that makeup on?"

"I've got..." Jack picked up his glass, while moving his hands upwards from the sides of his mouth. She wondered how he managed not to spill his drink. "these scars."

"I know that. You're always tellin' people how you got 'em."

He shrugged his shoulders a little awkwardly. "Well... yeah."

Casey leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Take off the makeup, Jack."

"Take off those clothes and maybe I will." He shot back, taking a long drink.

"You wanna get out of here?"

He tried not to choke on the drink. Again.

"Sure."

"Great." She picked up the now empty bottle and walked to the bar.

Jack sat back and ran his hands through his wild hair. He hadn't been expecting this.

His alcohol addled mind spun with longings and worries. Sure, she was attractive but did he trust himself to not lose it? The last time hadn't ended well.

He saw his hands covered with someone else's blood, screaming at the sky, trying to make the pain end but it just kept coming...

No, this wasn't going to be like the last time. He shook himself and stood up.

Casey walked back over, zipping up her jacket over her dress.

"We gotta go. Quickly."

"Why's that?"

"I had to threaten the bartender with my gun and he may have called the cops."

"Let's split then, sugar." Jack said with a wink.

"Here we are!" Casey threw her jacket down onto a chair. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Humble?"

They had reached the second floor and a dining room stretched out for most of it. The high domed glass ceiling was a little cracked and dusty, but moonlight still shone through. Large windows, only two of which were smashed, showed views of the river which glittered outside. Many tables and chairs were piled in a heap, in one corner of the room. One table was set out in the centre, with eight or so mismatched chairs.

"The only useful thing I keep in here is..." Casey pulled out a bottle from a wooden crate. "Booze!"

She shook up the bottle until the cork popped off, then took a swig and cheered.

"What are we celebrating?"

"The chaos we created together was truly beautiful." She smiled.

"I could not agree more." He grinned.

They both clinked imaginary champagne glasses and carried on taking long drinks from the bottles.

Jack was woken by a dull thud.

He stirred slowly, his head spinning. He quickly looked at his hands. Clean.

He sighed in relief.

The dull thud had been Casey falling out of bed onto the floor.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her head.

"Ouch..." she muttered.

Jack blinked a couple of times until his vision focused, then looked around him. He was in a bedroom, a room in the hotel. There was blood on one of the walls, which caused him to panic for a second, but it looked old and dry. He noticed a purple jacket thrown on the floor and recognised it as his own.

With a little trepidation, he looked down at his body, sprawled on the couch.

His shirt was unbuttoned a little and his belt was loose but apart from that, and his pounding headache, he was fine.

Casey stood up carefully and Jack realised she was in her underwear. He felt his face flush and pretended he wasn't looking.

She staggered forward a few paces, covering her eyes.

"Bright... lights..." She muttered.

"You want me to close the curtains?"

Casey jumped. "Jesus! Oh... hey. I-I'll do it."

She wandered over to the window, shielding her eyes and pulled the tattered curtains across. It didn't make much difference but she seemed relieved.

She walked back over to him and was about to speak when she clutched her head and groaned.

"Ah, my head! That hurts... fuck me!"

Jack tried not to laugh at the expression.

"Wait..." She looked at him, her expression both worried and flirtatious. "Did... you?"

He coughed to cover his laughter. "No... no, I don't think I did."

"Okay... right." Casey ran her hands through her hair distractedly. "I'm gonna go have a shower."

Jack nodded and she walked out of the room. He heard her bare feet padding along the floorboards until they stopped; a door creaked open, then another, and the sounds of dripping water came down the hall.

Somewhere in the hotel, a clock chimed. Counting the number of chimes, Jack realised it was noon.

He cursed and jumped up. He hurriedly straightened his clothes and hair. He found a piece of paper and scribbled a note.

On his way out, he walked past the room where Casey was showering. He stopped, and glanced through the crack in the door. Steam filled the room and Jack was struck with the urge to walk in. He caught a glimpse of movement and looked away quickly. He sighed and left in a hurry.

Casey came back to the bedroom a few minutes later, disappointed to find it empty.

She found a crumpled piece of paper lying on her bed and picked it up. She read;

"Sorry to run out but I have to meet a gang leader and you know how impatient they can get. I had a great time, we should meet up again and create more chaos...

Keep safe sugar. J."

Casey smiled and pinned the note to her wall opposite her bed.

In the weeks and months that followed, that wall became filled with letters from Jack. Some were stained with makeup, blood or something else, but all were in his spikey handwriting, and all were signed "Keep safe sugar. J."