5. One Shot
After dinner, dessert and a few more drinks, I finally decided it was time to go home. Harvey and Rachel offered to walk me home. I obliged, simply because it was late and not safe for me to walk the streets alone at night. Once I reached my apartment building, I thanked Harvey and Rachel and ran to the elevator as quickly as possible. On the top floor, I hesitantly opened the door and immediately flicked on the lights and slammed the door behind me.
"Hello?! Joker?! Are you in here?" I called out, grabbing the knife from the counter and walking through the apartment. My heart stopped when I went into my room. On the nightstand beside my bed was another single rose with another card attached. This time, typed on it: Next time, try purple and green – J. I let out a small chuckle, then my hands went numb. The Joker must have seen me leave or come back this evening. How else would he have known my dress was neither green nor purple?
"Joker! If you're here, I insist you show yourself!" I instructed firmly. Taking the knife, I looked under my bed, behind the door and then ran into the bathroom. I searched behind the door, the shower and then into the small hallway. No one. There was not a single person to be found in my apartment. Maybe he left another note somewhere else in the apartment. Or maybe he left something else. Suddenly, there was a knock from the window by the fire escape. My heart jumped as I turned to face the window, half expecting it to be the Joker. To my likeness, it was Batman. I opened the window quickly for him, and he motioned for me to join him on the fire escape. I crawled out the window and stood beside him.
"Batman, fancy seeing you here!" I greeted him.
"I've heard through the grapevine that you're a behavioral analyst of the sorts," Batman said in his low grumbling voice. I nodded.
"Yes, yes I am. I have a master's degree in Cognitive/Behavioral Neuropsychology," I responded, "Why do you ask?"
"Would you be willing to help me?" he asked.
"In what way? How can I possibly help you?" I asked, incredulous.
"Have you ever heard of the Joker?" he asked, his voice still low.
"Yes, I have. Let me guess; you want me to perform an analysis on the Joker so you and the GPD can further understand his antics?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"The Joker's one of Gotham's highest rate criminals. We'd do anything we can to ensure his arrest," Batman stated.
"And how would you like me to go about this? I've never met the Joker before in my life. And if I did meet him, who's to guarantee he wouldn't kill me? Or even talk to me truthfully?" I asked.
"When we catch him, it is imperative for you to come to County and speak with him. The Joker will be caught and when he is, you will know," Batman further explained.
"Well, when you catch him, I'll be there," I said, glancing briefly into my apartment, then back to Batman, who was no longer there. He disappeared. I looked down the fire escape and all around, but he was no where to be found. Assuming that is what he just does, I crawled back into my apartment and locked the window behind me. The front door of my apartment was wide open.
"Black isn't your color, Giada; really, I'm telling you—green and purple would be much more flattering on a woman of your stature and coloring," the Joker said as he emerged from the hallway to my bedroom.
"I got your card with that message. I'm flattered you care so much about what I wear, Joker," I responded.
"Just doing my part to help, as always," he replied as he sat down on my couch and put his feet up on the table, on top of all my psych evaluations.
"Hey, hey! That's my work you've got your feet all over!" I exclaimed as I ran over and threw his feet off of my paperwork. I couldn't believe I had just thrown a mass murdering clown's feet off of my work. He should have killed me. I would have. He simply laughed.
"Your work—evaluations for Wayne Enterprises, no doubt," he responded.
"Yes. Psych evaluations, actually," I replied with a grin.
"You know, people think I'm crazy," he said, as he patted the spot next to him on the couch for me to sit down. I felt a small flutter in my stomach at his gesture, almost as though I were excited to get close to him. I then mentally slapped myself. He's a criminal. A wanted, mass murdering, criminal; I should not want to sit next to him. I sat next to him anyway.
"That's my girl. Now let's take a looksie at these, uh, evaluations," the Joker said as he took his feet from the table and took the papers from my hands. He rustled through the papers and then glanced over at me.
"Is there a problem, Joker?" I asked, snatching the papers back from him.
"Mr. Wayne's employees are a bunch of compulsive, planning, type A's, aren't they?" the Joker asked.
"Yes, actually. A lot of them are a bit compulsive—but that's besides—"
"You know who's compulsive—it's the Batman," the Joker interrupted me. A grin crossed my face.
"You know, you just missed the Batman," I said, putting the papers down in my lap, "he was just here—out there on my fire escape," I pointed to the window I crawled in from.
"Well it's a good thing he's left then, because I'm sure Maroni's up to no good tonight," the Joker responded with a slight pout of his lips. My heart skipped at a beat.
"Aren't you and the mob working together?" I asked, a bit unsure of my increasing heart rate, now that I was certain the Joker wasn't out to kill me.
"Me? Working with the mob?" The Joker burst into a flurry of laughter, "Not a chance! I work with no one—except maybe one other person,"
"Oh, is that so?" I asked, curious as to who his accomplice is.
"Well that's for you to decide," he responded, licking his lips. I paused, not knowing what to say.
"What am I to decide?" I asked finally, the butterflies whirling around in my stomach.
"Well, as long as you're working at Wayne Enterprises, I can't say you're working with me," he replied.
"Me? Working with you? Not too likely," I said finally, trying to avert my eyes away from his. He knew he was getting to me. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me towards him and searched for my eyes with his as he held onto me.
"I told you my little, uh, proposition and I understand that you'll take it when you're ready. I just thought I'd drop by, uh, this evening to give you a little reminder. There's never anything wrong with a little reminder. What's the matter? Why won't you look at me? Now, I know it isn't the scars…or is it?" he asked. Finally, I let my eyes meet his. For some reason, I was losing my 'act like the Joker' touch. He was getting to me for some reason, and he knew it. It was showing and he could tell.
"Are you going to stay a while?" I asked finally, calming myself down. He let go of my shoulders.
"Why do you ask?" he asked, sweeping his hair back from his face.
"Well, I was going to say that if you were planning on staying a while, make yourself comfortable and I'll put on a pot of coffee or something," I responded. If anyone had seen this, they would have thought I was crazy. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe I was crazy and the Joker was sane. Maybe we were both crazy but we felt sane together. He didn't scare me and now that I wasn't letting him get to me, the grin reappeared on his face.
"Well, if you're inviting me to stay, I might as well! There's so much we can learn from each other in one little over-night," the Joker responded with a seductive grin.
"Over-night? I didn't ask you to have a sleepover with me—I simply asked if you were staying longer and if you maybe wanted a cup of coffee," I replied with a small chuckle as I stood to my feet.
"Oh, but a sleepover would be so much fun, Giada! Wouldn't you agree?" he asked, jumping up to his feet.
"Maybe you had better go then," I responded, crossing my arms.
"Oh you're no fun," he said as he plopped back down on the couch.
"Coffee?" I asked again.
"Got anything stronger?" he asked as he kicked off his shoes. I walked into the kitchen and searched through my alcohol bottles.
"Scotch, vodka, rum, wine, frangelico and chambord," I listed to him.
"That's it?" he asked as he took off his jacket.
"Well, I make a pretty fucking awesome drink with the chambord and frangelico," I called over to him.
"What's in it?" he asked.
"Those two and milk," I responded.
"A shot of punch please," he said finally.
"What the hell is punch?" I asked, as I mixed my drink.
"All of those combined into one shot," he responded. I paused, shook my head and then poured him a small glass of each liquor I had listed in my cabinet. I then walked back out into the living room to see that he had taken off his jacket. I guess my jaw must have dropped slightly at the sight of him, because I stopped right in front of him, holding the two drinks and froze there just looking at him. His green vest which snuggly tucked his tie behind it, hugged his torso closely. That stupid purple jacket was much too big for him—it hid the best of him.
"Giiiiiiiiiiada!" his voice rang suddenly. I blinked my eyes several times and then set his drink down on the table. I then just kept standing and took a sip of my drink.
"Now, I don't want to sound rude or anything, but why invite me to stay if you won't even join me on the couch here? Not to say this is a nice view for me, but I think after this shot, I'd enjoy you more next to me," the Joker stated. I was still so entranced by his new physique I hardly heard a thing he said. I just shuffled over to the couch and took a seat next to him.
"What's the matter, Giada? Cat got your tongue?" the Joker asked, laughing as he eyed me just sitting there not looking at him. I blinked and decided I should probably compose myself. There was no way I was going to let him get to me like that. It was too obvious to myself that I was developing a serious crush on a mass murdering criminal. That is not something that I wanted to happen but from the looks of it, there was not much I could do at this point. I decided to play it off. I turned my head slowly towards him and smirked.
"Cat's got nothing," I said as I drank my drink.
"What's in that?" he asked me finally, taking it from my hands and taking a sip of it.
"Frangelico, chambord and milk. It's called a 'nuts and berries'," I replied as I snatched it back from him.
"Now that's a delicious beverage!" he exclaimed.
"What, you want to trade or something?" I asked, glancing down at his untouched shot of every kind of liquor I had.
"You wouldn't trade with me even if I asked you to," he said, taking the shot in his ungloved hand.
"You're absolutely right!" I exclaimed with a laugh.
"And why is that?" he asked, grinning and quirking an eyebrow.
"Because it's what you would want me to do. You would ask me for a shot of every liquor I had and then tell me you liked my drink better and if I would trade. Now it would be no secret that if I were to trade with you, I would get overly intoxicated from your shot and you would be relatively sober from drinking my drink. At this, you would then be able to have your way with me, which may or may not be something you desire," I explained.
"Oh we do think so very alike, Giada!" he exploded into laughter, "you know exactly what I am thinking and why!"
"I didn't spend six years of my life in college learning about psychology and behavior and cognition for nothing, you know," I responded.
"And what's even better is that I know that you really would like to switch drinks with me to see if what you predicted would actually happen or not," the Joker continued.
"Now that would be a little too fun, Joker," I replied, drinking more of my nuts and berries.
"What's a couple drinks without any fun?" the Joker asked, leaning over the taking his shot from the table. He turned to me and held it in his hand and raised an eyebrow. He was right. In that moment, in that one suggestive look he gave me, I wanted the shot. I wanted to take the shot and see what he would do with me. I wanted him and I wanted him badly.
"Well who's to say that if I take that shot you won't kill me when I'm too drunk to understand anything?" I asked finally.
"And who's the say that if you take that shot and you get drunk I won't just leave you be?" he asked.
"But I don't want to die," I said finally, feeling a little buzz from my drink.
"Giada, I don't want to kill you," the Joker stated as he licked his lips, his eyes locked in a gaze with mine.
"But I can't tell if you're lying or not," I stated finally, my mind in a frenzy trying to figure out this criminal mastermind.
"Well, judging from your textbook definitions on criminal minds, wouldn't I have killed you already if I was going to kill you at all?" he asked, playing Devil's Advocate. I paused for a moment and really thought through the situation. The odds were in my favor. If he was going to kill me or wanted to kill me, he really would have done it by now.
"I know that my word isn't worth much in this town, but for you, Giada, darling, you have my word—I do not want to kill you," the Joker continued. He was smooth talking me and I was beginning to feel buzzed from my drink. This was no good at all. He was smooth talking me and I was falling for it. Could he be trusted? Could I trust the Joker? I hesitated another moment. Fuck it. If he was going to kill me, then he was going to kill me. There would be nothing I could do to stop it anyway. I am not the killing type. I took the shot from his hand and gave him my drink. I was about to down his shot when he stopped my hand from reaching my mouth.
"What? What now?" I asked. Saying nothing, he merely clanked glasses with me. I chuckled and then downed the shot. He too, finished my drink in one gulp. All it took was that one shot. I was wasted. It hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Joker! Quick!" I drunkenly stood to my feet. He jumped to his feet, ready to catch me if I fell. "Joker! We're drunk!" I exclaimed. He exploded into laughter at my behavior.
"Joker! Now's the time for you to have your way with me! If you want to kill me, now's your chance!" I exclaimed. He simply kept laughing at me. He laughed so hard at me that he doubled over and fell back onto the couch.
"Joker! Why are you laughing at me!? Whoa!" I spun around and fell onto him on the couch. I tried to sit up but he pulled me onto him so that I was straddling him. With both of his hands, he held me steady by my shoulders.
"Joker! Why are you holding me like this!" I started laughing.
"Sh sh sh sh sh," he said finally, holding a solitary finger up to my mouth as he shook his head. As he went to take his finger from my mouth once I was quiet, I tried to bite his finger; but he was too quick to hold onto my arms.
"Please let me go, Joker," I said finally.
"I'm not holding your hands—just your arms," he responded with a simple nod of his head, gesturing to where he was holding me.
"Oh," I let out a small laugh and then lifted my hands to his face. "Do you mind?" I asked, meeting my eyes with his and then lowering my eyes to his scars and finally meeting his eyes again.
"No. Go on. Touch them," he said, at last, a grin forming on his lips. I let my fingers run softly over the bumps and grooves of the scars. I saw him close his eyes as I felt them. He breathed in and out a few times, then, suddenly, he flipped me onto my back and pinned my hands down at my sides.
"I'm sorry! Don't kill me please!" I exclaimed as I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Open your eyes—look at me," he said in a soft voice.
"No you're going to kill me!" I exclaimed again.
"Look at me!" he growled. Out of fear, I opened my eyes, "I'm not going to kill you,"
"You're not?" I asked finally.
"Does it look like I'm going to kill you? If anything, I'd fuck the shit out of you—not kill you,"
"Then you'll fuck me first then kill me!"
"You'll see, Giada. You'll see one of these days that I'm not going to kill you," he said finally, sitting up, now straddling me on the couch.
"Well then what are you waiting for?" I asked, "are you going to have your way with me like I hypothesized earlier? I took the shot. The ball is in your court, Joker," I laughed finally. He just stared down at me laughing and a grin slid across his full lips.
"Who's to say what you predicted would actually happen? Where's the fun in that? Where's the fun in being able to predict something? I'm not a man of plans, Giada—you know what by now. Let's be honest, you didn't plan for your night to end like this, did you? But how glad are you now that it did?"
"But my night's not over yet! It's not over until you have your way with me—do me. I know you want to," I coaxed him.
"You know me better than you think you do—but I also know you better than you know yourself, Giada. I know you like I know myself and right now," he said as he hoisted me up to a sitting position, "you're right—I'd like to fuck you like a rabbit, but let's be honest—now isn't the time for such actions,"
"I'm speechless! I never thought a man would turn down a drunken woman ready to give herself away," I chuckled. He backed off of me and I sat up on the couch on my knees, still facing him.
"Gotham's waiting for me and I won't disappoint," the Joker continued.
"Well you're disappointing me! I've got condoms in the top drawer of that nightstand you always leave me flowers on," I stated as I started to get up from the couch. The Joker simply pulled me back down.
"Just like you said you can't trust me—I can't trust you yet either, my dear. In time, in time. When you find that you want to join with me, that you can trust me, I can trust you, because let's be honest here—for as long as you're at Wayne Enterprises and the Batman is dropping in on, uh, unexpected visits, this little you/me think is going to be quite more difficult than it need be. I want you, Giada. I want you to join me because I know we share the same mind. You're too good for these other people. I have what you want and I have what you need. But until you make that decision for yourself, I can't do a damn thing," he finished.
"Oh I hate it when you talk like that! It's like when I talk to myself in my head! How are you in my head?"
"It was that one shot," the Joker laughed as he stood to his feet and slipped on his shoes. "This won't be the last you see of me, sweetheart," he said as he put on his jacket and gloves. "Thanks for the drink," and with that, he was out the door. I fell back on the couch and closed my eyes. I was in deep shit. I was falling for a criminal. But not just any criminal—I was falling for the Joker.