Chapter 3
Chapter 3- Pretty damn close
"And we'll all dance alone to the tune of your death
And we'll love again, we'll laugh again
We'll cry again, and we'll dance again
And it's better off this way
So much better off this way
I can't clean the blood off the sheets in my bed!"
- I Never Told You What I Do For A Living - My Chemical Romance
About a week later, Casey turned on her tiny, half broken television and threw herself into a chair. After a day of planning a museum heist, she settled down with a cup of Pot Noodles and some beer.
The news was on and a report began on what was being described as a drug deal gone wrong. Blood was spattered on the walls of an apartment and the reporter, looking slightly nauseated, was standing in front of one of the walls.
Casey noticed something on the wall behind him and when he stepped back, she read a message written on the wall in blood;
"C. Dinner? Tonight 8. Your place. - J."
She smiled in delight and checked her watch. 7:58. Damn the late news reporting! Couldn't they be more prompt?
She swore and threw down her noodles. She downed the beer and changed her clothes quickly to a short lacey black dress with a belt and black boots, threw on some red lipstick and went downstairs.
Jack was standing in the lobby, having an animated conversation with one of Casey's henchmen. He stopped when she reached the top of the cracked wooden staircase and made her way down, and stared.
"Hi."
"Good evening." He grinned.
"Shall we?" She held out her arm.
He took it. "We shall."
"Keep an eye on the place, boys. Remember to lock all the doors." Casey called over her shoulder to the men as they walked out.
They gave several grunts of acknowledgement.
"So... where are we headed?"
"I heard... through some of my contacts that Tony Vincenzo's funeral is tonight. I was thinking, perhaps, that we could, y'know, crash it?"
"Do you mean that literally or...?"
He cackled. "Oh, we do think alike, don't we?"
The funeral march continued along slowly. People's sobs echoed through the silent street. The only two who weren't moved were two figures standing at the back, one in a dark suit, large scarf and sunglasses, the other in a short dress, and bright red lips.
"You look very handsome." Casey whispered in Jack's ear as they walked slowly along with the others.
"You don't look too bad yourself, sugar."
"Y'know, I remembered some more about the other night."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah... we didn't go all the way but we sure as hell came pretty close."
His eyes widened behind his oversized sunglasses.
"How... how interesting."
The procession reached the cemetery and the coffin was lifted from the hearse and carried through the gates. Helicopters with searchlights buzzed overhead.
"Aww, they're looking for us." Casey said, sounding flattered.
They hung at the back of the group, arm in arm and hung behind after everyone had left, trying to look as sad as possible.
"I brought wiiine." Jack said in a sing-song voice, pulling a small bottle out of his inside pocket and throwing off his sunglasses.
"Oh thank god, I didn't think I could stand there looking miserable anymore."
Casey panicked when a searchlight swooped over them and hid behind the mausoleum.
She acted innocent while Jack placed dynamite around it.
"Jack... there's a warden coming." She hissed suddenly through gritted teeth.
"Oh, dear. That's not good."
"What do we do?!"
"Um... uh..."
"I've got an idea. Come here." She grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Kiss me."
"What?!"
"Just do it. He'll get uncomfortable and leave."
"There is no way I am-"
The cop shone a torch in their direction. Jack panicked and kissed her.
"Come on, that's not gonna convince anyone." Casey whispered.
Jack growled softly and pushed her against the wall. His hands pinned hers above her head against the cold stone wall.
It could've been minutes or hours later, Jack stepped back, breathless.
They stood in silence for some time.
"Can we blow stuff up now?" Casey asked hesitantly.
"That's a very good idea." He sounded relieved.
They walked to the cemetery gates and pushed the button. The explosions lit up the sky and revenge felt good but it wasn't as fun as last time.
"Listen... I uh, I gotta go. Gotta be up early tomorrow morning for a bank thing so..." She said awkwardly.
"Right. Alright. Want me to walk you back?" Jack offered hopefully.
"It's okay. I'll see you around, or something."
"Okay."
"Good night then."
"Night."
Casey walked down the street and kept slowly walking until she eventually reached her bed. She collapsed onto it and lay face down but she wasn't tired. Her mind raced with thoughts of Jack.
"Shit... God dammit!" He sat on a bench in the cemetery, his head in his hands. "You came on too strong, you've scared her off... But she was the one who flirted at the bar, not me. And she asked me to kiss her... she encouraged me for god's sake!"
He pulled out his notebook and poured his thoughts out onto the pages as he usually did; every single thought no matter how unspeakable, dangerous or disturbed it was. Drawings helped too and he found his pen forming the shape of someone who looked an awful lot like Casey.
"Dear Casey,
Haven't seen you in a while... not since the cemetery. I'll be at the Red Box bar on Saturday night if you wanna meet.
Keep safe, sugar. - J."
"That'll have to do." Jack said to himself, clearing the many other crumpled pages off of his desk and putting the completed letter into an envelope.
Casey's phone rang. It was early on a Saturday morning and she was jumpy after not sleeping for four days.
"Hello?"
"Casey." A gruff voice said sternly.
"Yep." She said, losing interest instantly at the voice and picking at her fingernails.
"Stop picking at your nails and listen up."
She swallowed and sat up straighter, fixing her clothes. She'd also forgotten they'd put cameras in her room.
"He needs you to go the museum next Friday night during the Diamond Festival, take the best they got and pull the wool over the curator's eyes." The man said, speaking in code in case their conversation was being monitored.
Just as she opened her mouth to reply there was a knock at her door.
"Come in."
The henchmen she'd stolen from the Joker walked in, holding an envelope.
"This came for you, miss."
"Thanks Jerry." She winked.
Casey torn open the envelope and read the letter. She smiled and stood up.
"So you know what to do. And you know what'll happen if you don't?"
"Yeah, yeah. Bye!" She said carelessly, tossing the phone down and running to her closet to pick out an outfit.
The Red Box was an unusual place. People like the Joker and Casey felt more at home there than at any other bar in Gotham so it was quite a popular joint.
Casey sat in the corner, a drink in her hand. Psychedelic music was playing and people were laughing and talking loudly but she heard little. She stared at the glass in her hand and the voices hissed in her ears.
"Dead... She's dead... Your fault..."
"Mom..." Casey whispered, her voice choking up as tears spilled down her cheeks.
The memory of a young man's voice echoed around her. "Keep still... Keep still! Now, nice and slow... No, no! Stop it, D- no! No hands... Eyes on me, alright? Never take your eyes off of me, and I'll never take my eyes off of you, agreed?"
"Casey! You alright?"
It was Jack, sitting beside her.
She jumped violently, flinching away from him. He touched her arm gently, the ringing in her ears faded slowly.
"Come on, let's get out of here."
"Oh, jeez." Casey wiped the tears from her face, looking at them on her fingers in apparent surprise.
"What's the matter, hmm? You high?"
"No! Not now anyway..." She said indignantly.
"Well then what is it? I walk in and you're sitting there all spaced out, crying and muttering to yourself-"
"It's personal, okay?" She snapped.
He sighed impatiently and walked around her, jumping up and down a little but still bending down so they were face to face.
"C'mon sugar! You can tell little ol' me, surely?" He flicked his tongue along his scars.
"I can't. It's too hard." She sniffed, drying her eyes.
"Too hard?"
"Right... Well, what isn't too hard to talk about?"
"Drinking?"
"That's what you wanna do?" His grin widened.
"Definitely."
Hours passed. Casey knocked back another shot of tequila and winced.
She sat at the bar with Jack when a man came over and leaned against the bar beside her. He was strangely dressed in a red suit with purple hair and shoes.
"Hey there, sweets." He said, looking her up and down.
"Hi." Casey smiled, her vision slightly blurred.
Jack looked up from his glass and looked between them awkwardly.
"That's a lovely dress you've got on." He touched her shoulder with one pale hand.
"Thanks."
"Let me buy you a drink."
Casey opened her mouth to respond but Jack nudged her subtly. She sighed and looked down at the empty glasses in front of her.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Sorry... I-I gotta go."
She grabbed her bag and walked out. Jack stood, nodded at the man and followed her outside.
"Y'know a year ago I would've been all over that guy. I would've gotten even more drunk with him and to be honest I probably would've been stripping in the bathroom by now." Casey said quietly, running a hand through her hair.
He said nothing, just looked at her.
"D'you know why? It's a stupid reason. The most stupid... It's because of you, I think. Because we hang out together and it'd be awkward. I just did it so I wouldn't make it awkward for you."
Jack looked down at his shoes, and nodded. "Yeah, okay."
They both knew the real reason but just didn't say it. It was too soon, too awkward. That night they ran around the city hand in hand causing chaos, screwing with the police and having as much fun as was possible at the time for them. It continued on for two weeks straight and Casey completely lost track of everything in the world except for her and Jack and their next adventure together.