8. Dinner Date

Disclaimer: I use some Dark Knight material. I do not own this, obviously. Spoilers if you haven't seen the movie yet! Also, a HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to those of you who have reviewed the story! Thank you so much! Your input is fabulous! I love you ALL!! Keep R&R!

I stood watching the black and white interrogation room as Gordon sat across from the Joker. I could only imagine what they were saying:

"Evening…cooomissioner," the Joker greeted him.

"Harvey Dent never made it home,"

"Of course not," the Joker replied.

"What have you done with him?" Gordon asked.

"Me…?" he paused, "I was right here," he held up his cuffed wrists. "Who did you leave him with? Hm? Your people? Assuming, of course, they are stillyourpeople…and not… Maroni's. Does it depress you, Commissioner? To know just how alone…you really are. Does it make you feel responsible for Harvey Dent's current…predicament?"

"Where is he?"

"What's the time?"

"What difference does that make?"

"Well, depending on the time, he may be in one spot…or several," he raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.

"If we're going to play games," Gordon said as he un-cuffed the Joker, "I'm going to need a cup of coffee,"

"Ah, the good cop, bad cop routine?" theJoker asked Gordon as he walked away.

"Not exactly," Gordon responded as he buzzed out of the room. I was so entranced with watching the soundless TV that I was startled to see Gordon return so soon.

"Get Batman in there," Gordon ordered. I looked around to see if Batman was there, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

"Batman's here?" I asked suddenly.

"Yes. We work together," Gordon said as he watched the screen. I hated watching the screen with no sound. Suddenly, on the TV screen, the lights turned on and Batman slammed the Joker's head down onto the table. He mouthed something to Batman and Batman slammed his hand down onto the Joker's. My heart skipped a beat. I didn't want Batman beating up the Joker! This wasn't going to get them anywhere!

"Gordon, please let me back in there—I can finish my interrogation," I pleaded finally.

"Batman needs to get this done. We have to find out where Harvey Dent is," Gordon explained.

"Well I can get the Joker to talk without hurting him," I said finally.

"Batman will do just fine. This is exactly what he needs," Gordon stated. They turned the sound back on so we could hear everything they were saying. Batman was sitting in front of the Joker, like I had been earlier. The Joker was right in saying that Batman and they were like and that they were only using him. One day, they would definitely cast him out: "like a leper," as the Joker said. But all too soon, it turned violent.

"He's in control," Gordon said. Batman had the Joker pinned up against the glass. I held my breath. The suddenly, the Batman flipped him over onto the table.

"Stop him! He's hurting him! That's going to do any good!" I screamed suddenly. Gordon ran from the room but Batman placed a chair under the interrogation door so he could not get in. I turned away from the TV screen, unable to watch Batman kicking the shit out of the Joker. All I could hear was the laughter thought Batman's growls.

"Make him stop!" I shouted suddenly as I turned back to the screen and saw Batman kick the Joker. But the Joker just kept laughing. Batman really did have nothing on him.

"Detective Stephens, take Miss DiMarco somewhere to sit down. This is apparently too much for her to handle," Gordon instructed.

"No, sir, really I'm fine. I just don't think is the way to handle anyone, that's all. As good as Batman supposedly is, I just don't see this being a fair way to handle any criminal,"

"Detective Stephens, I need you in the interrogation room right now. The Joker's told Batman where Harvey Dent is and where Rachel Dawes is. We're going to do our best to rescue them both," Gordon explained as he quickly left. Detective Stephens nodded.

"Will you be alright here?" he asked me.

"I'll be fine," I responded as I sat down in front of the screen. He left and went into the interrogation room. The Joker was sitting on the floor with his back up against the wall. Detective Stephens stood in front of the door.

"I…want…my phone call. I want it. I want my phone call," There was a paused between the two men.

"How many of your friends…have I killed?"

"I'm a twenty-year man and I know the difference between punks and the freaks like you who just enjoy it…and you killed six of my friends,"

The Joker mouth 'six', as he raised his eyebrows.

"Do you know why…I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can't savor all the…little…emotion. And…you see…in their…last moments…people show you who they really are. So in a way…I knew your friends better than you ever did," He paused and licked his lips, "would you like to know which of them were cowards?"

"I know you're going to enjoy this. I'm going to have to try and enjoy it…even more," Detective Stephens said as he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The Joker cracked his neck on either side. I looked around me—there was no one else in sight. Detective Stephens was about the beat the shit out of the Joker. I couldn't let him. I jumped up from my seat and ran to the interrogation room. Nothing can get accomplished through violence like that! I buzzed into the interrogation room.

"Stop it! I won't let you do this! You'll never get answers from him by hurting him!" I screamed as the Detective nailed the Joker one right across the face. The Joker grinned at me jumped to his feet.

"Huh?!" Detective Stephens turned around when he heard me. At that, the Joker took hold of the detective.

"I knew you'd change your mind…Giada," the Joker said as he dragged the detective out of the interrogation room.

"Change my mind?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, and you might want to get out of the building," he said as he left the room.

I ran from the interrogation room and watched him walk down the hall with the detective. As I left the building, I heard him telling the others he only wanted his phone call. I knew he had something planned, so I ran from the building and I ran as far away as I could. By the time I reached my apartment building, I heard a huge explosion. I figured it must have been from the GPD station or perhaps County. Or maybe even on the outskirts of town where Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes possibly were. I hadn't a clue, so, my nerves shaking, I made my way up the stairs of the building, into the elevator and up to the top floor where I lived. When I arrived there, I didn't want to go inside, so I went up to the roof and sat there a while. I saw the smoke from tow explosions whirling into the night air. A chill ran up and down my spine. Who knows where the Joker ran. He could be anywhere by now.

After a few moments of catching my breath and wondering where the Joker has disappeared to, I went back down to the floor of my apartment and unlocked the door. I turned on the lights. My stomach was growling, Gotham City was more or less afire, and the Joker, the one person I really wanted to talk to, was gone. Walking over to my stereo, I put on some music and decided to make some good home cooking. It had been a while since I had eaten Italian.

"Here I am! Rock you like a hurricane!" I belted out as I cut up my ingredients and placed them into the heated pan on the stove. "Here I am, rock you like a hurricaneeee!!" I danced over to the stove. When in crisis and when in doubt of one's sanity, listen to 80's rock. It makes everything better.

"My body is burning, it starts to shout! Desire is coming, it breaks out loud! Lust is in cages, till storm breaks loose! Just have to make it with someone I choose! The night is calling, I have to go! The wolf is hungry, he runs to show. He's licking his lips; he's ready to win, on the hunt tonight, for love at first sting!" I sang loudly as I sautéed my ingredients and added the tomatoes.

"Rock you like a hurricane!" I shouted again as grabbed a box of pasta from the cabinet and spun around, eyes tightly shut, pretending to hold a microphone like an 80's rock star. Then I heard the clapping. I opened my eyes and saw the Joker standing in the door way to my apartment.

"What a show! Keep singing! I didn't you know were such—a performer, Giada!" The Joker laughed as he shut the door and walked all the way into the apartment.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked with a small laugh as I poured the pasta into boiling water.

"Just long enough to hear you sing that last whole verse—you know, the one before 'here I am! Rock you like a hurricane!" he mimicked me, fake microphone and all. I felt my skin burn up with embarrassment as he clapped again. I hid my smirk and went into the fridge for some cheese.

"Again, a very entertaining show, my dear," he responded.

"Thank you. I tend to love 80s rock," I chuckled.

"So, what's for dinner tonight?" he asked as he came over to the stove, ungloved one of his hands and tasted the tomato sauce (gravy as we Italians in Boston call it).

"Hey! Wash your hands first! I don't know how many people you've killed between now and when I last saw you!" I exclaimed, slapping his hand away from the pot. "And besides, who said you were invited to dinner?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Fair enough. You win. Where's your soap?" He asked as he removed his gloves and ran the water.

"To your left," I replied as I tried some pasta from the water.

"There. Happy?" he asked as he displayed his clean hands.

"Now. My second question—who said you were invited to join me for dinner?" I asked, still cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh Giada, you do play a good game—but you did help me tonight at County and for that I know that you won't disappoint. You started the night as one of them and you ended the night with me. You don't deny it…do you?...Jade?" he asked slowly as he came a bit closer to me.

"First of all, don't call me Jade. Second of all, just because I helped you, doesn't mean I've 'switched sides', if you will. I was trying to give you the same fair break anyone else deserves," I replied, turning back to the stove. He then came up behind me, pressing himself entire against me.

"That's the beauty of the way we think—it's fair. The way they think isn't fair, Giada—you know that. And you just wait—when they cast you out—like they will with Batman—you'll see. Then you'll see how fair they play and how fair I play. You'll come to me," he said softly, right into my ear.

Having him so close up against me and hearing his voice right in my ear sent chills up and down my spine. He excited me and he knew he did, because he placed an arm around my waist and spun me around so he was pressed up against me from the front and I was leaning back against the counter. I averted my eyes from his momentarily, and then I finally looked into his eyes. As if life couldn't be more perfect—or strange—the song 'Like a Virgin' came on.

I couldn't help but laugh at the situation, as Madonna sang loud and proud: 'I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through. Didn't know how lost I was until I found you. I was beat, incomplete. I'd been had, I was sad and blue, but you made me feel, yeah you made me feel shiny and new—like a virgin!'

Sometimes I really hate my life. Well, there really are no coincides in life. I figured I would just keep laughing. The Joker caught on too and he laughed. I decided to sing to him:

"like a virgin! Touched for the very first time! Like a viiiiiiiiiiiiiiirgin! When your heart beats, next to mine!" I pushed away from the counter and grabbed his hands and kept singing, trying to make him dance with me.

"You're so fine, and you're mine, I'll be yours, till the end of time, 'cause you made me feel, yeah you made me feel I've nothing to hide!" I belted, making complete eye contact with him. I guess a lot of what Madonna had to say was true for me—he did make me feel I had nothing to hide. Oh well! He seemed to enjoy it. And what surprised me more was that he proved to be a better dancer that I had pinned him for! The song ended and he dipped me.

"Joker, you're one hell of a dancer!" I laughed as I brushed myself off and took the pasta off the stove.

"I'm just full of surprises," he responded with a grin. I glanced over at him and smiled back and continued getting my food ready. I then brought my bowl of penne to the table and glanced over at him.

"I guess you can stay for dinner," I replied with a playful tone. "Help yourself. It's penne and my mother's secret gravy recipe," I said as I sat down and began eating.

"Gravy—that's a Bostonian thing, isn't it," he responded as he set his bowl of penne and gravy down on the table across from me.

"Yeah, it is," I laughed, unable to believe he knew something like that. Everyone had always made fun of me for calling tomato sauce 'gravy'—everyone that wasn't an Italian from Boston. Grinning back at me, he sat down. We sat there and ate a couple bites, until he finally sat back in astonishment.