20. Alone

Disclaimer: To all of my reviewers—thank you so so so much!! You really are truly brilliant!! I am glad you all love the songs I pick—hopefully you'll like this one too! It is called 'Alone', by Heart

I hear the tickin' of the clock

I'm lying here, the room's pitch dark

I wonder where you are tonight

No answer on the telephone

And the night goes by so very slow

Oh I hope that it won't end though

Alone

Till now, I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

You don't know how long I've wanted

To touch your lips and hold you right, oh

You don't know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

But the secret is still my own

And my love for you is still unknown

Alone

There he was—at the back of the Joker's Wild, watching me dance. I could see the white of his face as clear as day through the black fog of the club. My heart skipped a beat as I could see him watching me dance. I could make out the definite smirk of gratification on his face, accentuating his scars. I wanted to touch him.

After my number, I went into the crowd and walked right up to him.

"So you are dancing again," he said, licking his lips as he continued to grin.

"Yes. And you came for me?" I asked, returning his grin.

"Why else would I be here? Gotham needs us, Giada," he replied as he held out his gloved hand. Luckily people in this city did not recognize the Joker when they saw him. To the people around us, my painted face and his was just an act. Smiling, I took his hand and we walked into one of the private stripping rooms.

"Did you mean what you said that night?" I asked him finally once the curtain was closed behind us. He sat down on the red sofa and patted the spot next to him as he had done when we first met in my apartment back in Gotham.

"Giada, I'm a man of my word. You should know that when I say something, I mean it," he replied as he pulled me into his arms.

"Well, I'm sure there's been no doubt in your mind since then, but I've been dying to tell you for so long that…well…I…"

OO

My alarm went off, screaming right through my dream, in the exact place I wake up every time I have the dream: right before I can tell the Joker that I love him. I sat up in bed and rubbed my face in my hands. The room was still dark. Why had my alarm gone off? I checked the time. It was 9:30 PM. Shit. I had gone to take a nap and set my alarm. I was going on at 10. I jumped up from bed and changed out of my office clothes and into my other clothes. I put my jacket on and left my apartment.

As I walked down the street, I took out my pocket calendar and crossed off another day. To the day, it had been exactly two months since the Batman sent me away from Gotham back to Boston. Every single day since the day I returned, I wondered where the Joker was and what he was doing. Why hadn't he come for me? Why was he waiting so long? Would he ever come for me?

I had moved out of my mother apartment and into my old apartment two weeks after I had gotten back to Boston. I had applied for multiple jobs to try and utilize my degree, but I had gotten no calls back from any employers. I had finally gotten a call for a part time position at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. They couldn't offer me full time, so I took the part time position in pediatric oncology as a psychotherapist. I wished so much that it could be full time because I could barely make rent on my apartment. Not really knowing what else to do, I saw in the paper that they had recently opened up a Joker's Wild Gentlemen's club in downtown Boston. At the point, I realized that there were no coincidences. I hauled my ass down to the club, applied, auditioned and got a job there, dancing four nights a week from 10PM—2AM. Needless to say, I could now make rent.

Each night I painted my face and put on my red and black corset and costume, I hoped that I would look out and see him there in the crowd watching. But each night, I would go home alone. I just knew that he knew I was working there—he had to know. He had to know I was in Boston. He had to come for me. Each night I would dream of him coming to the club and bringing me back to Gotham to be with him.

That last night in Gotham, I was going to tell him I loved him. But I couldn't. I wasn't even sure if he meant what he said. The rational part of me knew that if he had meant it, I wouldn't beginning my third month back home in Boston—he would have come for me by now.

I walked in the back door of the club and went into the dressing room to put on my face paint and costume.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"What do you want?" the Batman's voice growled.

"I…would like to know where you decided to re-locate Giada," the Joker said as he licked his lips.

"And why would I tell you a thing like that, Joker?" the Batman asked, almost incredulous at the Joker's forwardness.

"Well, because if you don't tell me—people will die. Each day she's missing, people…will…die," he responded in a low voice, and then let out a cackle of delight.

"You're sick, Joker. You'll never find where I brought her. She's safe now, away from you and your twisted mind games. Just leave that poor woman alone," Batman responded.

"I…I won't," the Joker replied as he tongued his scars from inside his mouth "and as you know—I'm a man of my word. People…will die, and you…will be the one that everyone is after,"

"What is your fascination with her? Why retrieve her? Of what value to you is she?" the bat asked.

"People are going…to die," the Joker stated finally, not hearing what Batman was asking him. He knew very well why he wanted me back—but he'd never say it to the Batman.

"Joker! We're not playing these games—not this time," Batman growled as he grabbed the Joker by the lapel of his jacket and held him up to the brick wall of the ally.

"Then just tell me where she is—that's all you have to do!" the Joker choked out through Batman's grasp and then licked his lips.

Batman remained silent and released the Joker from his grasp. "It doesn't matter where she is—you'll never be able to reach her,"

"Is she in Gotham or isn't she?" the Joker asked.

"None of this matters—" Batman began, but the Joker pulled his knife out on him, knocking him to the ground. The Joker climbed on top Batman and held the knife to him.

"Is she…or isn't she?" the Joker threatened, "because if she is, then I'll find her—and then you…won't have to be Gotham's proclaimed savior after my mass murdering. If she isn't—well, then I'll still find her and people will still die," he laughed maniacally.

"You'll never get away with this, Joker," Batman replied, struggling beneath the Joker's grasp.

"I'll ask again—is she…or isn't she? Yes or no, Batman!" he exclaimed with a laugh.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

My song began. I chose the song for the Joker—my whole being at the Joker's Wild was for him—all of it—my dancing, my costume, my dance, my song—it was all a personal dedication to him and what he'd made me realize in our time together. "Time is Running Out" by Muse—it described the Joker and I perfectly. I had fallen in love with the twisted and sadistic addiction the lyrics wrote about.

"Let's hear it for The Joker's Jade!" the announcer said as my song began.

I walked out on stage to the beat and placed my hand on the pole. I started my dance. Whenever I danced, my mind was always in another place, thinking about the Joker. Sometimes, I would pretend he was sitting by the stage watching me dance—it would really be my only inspiration to finish the dance. Suddenly, one of the men made a comment that caught my conscious attention.

"The Joker's Jade, huh," he chuckled, "I wonder if she knows anything about that Joker out in Gotham and all those killings he's been doing," a man said softly to a man next to him.

"I doubt it," the other man replied with a laugh.

I hadn't watched the news since I had been home. I refused to. The Joker killings in Gotham—I wondered if it had anything to do with me. I knelt down, smiling at the two men.

"I'm the Joker's girlfriend," I sad seductively to them and then stood back up. The just laughed, enjoying my performance. I knew people would never actually believe any of that stuff—especially since I was putting on an act by simply working there. It fit Jade perfectly. Part of me wondered that if the Joker were to show up, would anyone even notice him? All of our staff wore painted faces and joker clothing. He'd be a needle in a haystack inside the Joker's Wild.

I finished my dance with a sly smile and walked off stage. That had been the first I had heard of the Joker since I had been home. Nobody in Boston really talked about things that happened in other cities, especially the Joker's killings. I assumed it was well-known knowledge, but if it wasn't happening in Boston, then it wasn't a priority of discussion.

In the dressing room, I changed into my floor costume and went out into the crowd of men. I was one of the only dancers who didn't perform private strip teases. The regulars always teased me about it, but I didn't care. I'd rather be alone, because I was waiting for one particular man to come in so I could be alone with him. I vowed to myself that I would wait for him to come in, because I just knew he had to. And now that I knew that he was going crazy with the killings, I figured it must be out of retaliation to Batman for taking me away. He had to find me soon; though I had no idea how long the killings had been going on for. For all I knew, they could have started this week—but they could have been going on for two months as well.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Alfred, the Joker's unstoppable—I just don't know what to do," Bruce said as he gazed at his Bat armor.

"Well, Mr. Wayne, I think it's probably safe to say that Batman can only handle so much. How much more do you think Batman can endure of these killings? Should you just tell him where she is?" Alfred asked.

"I just don't see the point in it," Bruce replied, "I just don't see her importance to him,"

"Well, she's clearly an important asset to him or he wouldn't be killing off half of Gotham," Alfred chuckled.

"Batman can't endure this," Bruce stated, "if it's me not taking off my mask, it's telling him where Giada is—the Joker's just a sick and crazed man who kills for no real reason at all. I can't give the satisfaction of knowing who I am or knowing where Giada is just because it's something that he wants,"

"But can you let him go on killing like this?" Alfred asked.

"No—I can't. Batman can't. But Batman is no longer an outlet for the GPD. They're going crazy down there trying to capture the Joker, but they cannot locate him either. I don't even know where he is," Bruce explained, "this is beyond Batman. I can only do so much to stop these killings and I feel that I've just about reached that limit,"

"Then I think you have your answer if you want Gotham safe and free from the Joker's killings," Alfred responded.

"So I tell him where she is?" Bruce asked, "It just seems too easy—that he would almost prefer for me to not tell him. It's never that simple with the Joker,"

"So then set it up for him—a game of clues for him to find out where she is. Maybe lead him to her, that way he finds her and is no longer in Gotham," Alfred suggested.

"Oh, that's not a bad idea—that way he won't be in the city anymore and the GPD will have time to figure out who he is—then they can get the Boston police to arrest him,"

"Set him up in Boston—have the GPD notify the Boston Police that he will be there—they will put out a search warrant for him and arrest him," Alfred stated.

"Perfect," Bruce said as he took out his armor and began dressing himself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I hear that he paints his face," a man from Boston wearing a clown mask said.

"Paints his face? Why the hell would he do that?" another Bostonian man asked, also wearing a clown mask.

"You know—like war paint," the first man replied.

"Well I hope he knows there are easier ways of getting money back to Boston than this," the second man responded.

"I'm sure he does—but my assumption would be that there's a warrant for him back at home too," the first man stated.

"Ya think? No one back in Boston really gives a shit about the Joker. I mean, really, what can he do? The man's a crazy fuck—he won't last in a small city like Boston," the second man replied. "What do you think?"

The third man just remained silent and shrugged his shoulders.

"He robs banks and kills people. There's not much to it. Boston's a city that works well for criminals like Whitey and the Strangler," the second man continued.

"Well, Whitey still hasn't been caught," the first man suggested.

"Yeah but the Joker's not cleaver like Whitey—Whitey fuckin' owned Boston and the cops," the second man stated.

"I'm sure I heard the Joker owned nearly half of Gotham in that same way," the first man replied.

"No fuckin' way," the second man responded, "I mean, we come to Gotham for a bank robbery assist for this guy and last minute, decides he wants the money taken back to Boston. Who does that? Here we are in a truck full of a fuckin' billion dollars and the Joker thinks he can just take a share in this when he ain't even the one doing the robbery and the drive back East,"

"I thought he said to kill the truck driver," the third man said finally. The two other men looked down at the third man, also wearing his clown mask.

"Kill the truck driver? Why the fuck would he tell us to do a thing like that?" the second man asked.

"Maybe the Joker is crazier than we thought," the first man said, slightly nervous.

"Maybe he meant for me to kill you," the second man said as he pointed his gun at the third man.

"Uh uh uh," the third man said as he stood to his feet and tilted his head to the side.

"I was told by the Joker to kill anyone who said something stupid like killing the truck driver!" the second man stated as he cocked his gun. The third man pulled his gun out and killed the second man before he could even pull the trigger.

"You kill him! Are you fuckin' crazy?!" the first man exclaimed.

"I've been told such things—but I've learned that what doesn't kill you, only makes you…stranger," he said as he pulled off his mask to reveal his painted face. He cocked the gun and shot the first man, then crawled into the truck passenger seat. The truck driver kept driving as the Joker held the gun up to his head.

"Thanks so much—but I'll be finishing the trip alone!" the Joker laughed as he pulled the trigger.