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50. Sugar Man
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Disclaimer: Thank you all for the reviews—full of constructive criticism and praise alike! I appreciate it all! Your reviews are what help me to become a better writer and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart!! There are some drug references in here, just FYI.
On the train home that evening, I went through my conversation with the Joker. His words made me high, like a drug. I felt my brain floating above my body as his voice echoed through my ears. I closed my eyes so that his face would appear behind my eyelids. I needed to see his lips move as he spoke to me in my head. I had to get him out of Arkham tomorrow night; I had to be with him—I had to give him the opportunity to prove that this surprise was well worth the pain I endured for two years.
As the train stopped at the next stop, I jolted out of my Joker trance. I realized in that moment I had to tell Bruce—or at least warn him of the Joker's departure from Arkham. He would know I helped him escape—there was going to be no way around this, but I didn't want to lie to Bruce. I didn't want to lose his friendship. He'd grown to be an integral part of my existence and I loved him for that. I loved how he supported me in such a positive way—a way that the Joker could never provide for me. And yet, I felt like I could relate more openly with the Joker. He understood a side of me that not even Bruce fully understood. I couldn't blame him for that—there is always so much about a person that not even a best friend or spouse can understand sometimes.
The train made another stop and I made my exit. I walked in slow motion up to the streets of Gotham and out into the icy December air. My hair whipped around my face as I strutted the couple blocks to my apartment.
Once I was finally upstairs, safe and warm, I dropped my things and flopped down onto the couch. I kicked off my heels and let my feet rest idly on the coffee table. My eyelids slowly drooped lower over my eyes as I allowed myself to succumb to the softness of the couch. In no time, the Joker's face lit up behind my eyelids. He grinned back at me in satisfaction and my stomach fluttered in excitement. I could feel my lips curl up into a similar grin.
"I haven't seen you grin like that in a while," a deep and dark voice rumbled from the window. My eyelids flew open and I sat up straight, spinning my head in the direction of the voice.
"Oh Bruce, you scared me," I sighed, standing to my feet and walking over to the window by the fire escape, "come on in—get out of the cold,"
"No, I'll be fine—just thought I'd stop by. Apparently there's quite a bit going on downtown tonight—I think Pixie's involved," Batman explained.
"Oh I see—well definitely don't stay here with boring me too for too long!" I laughed, folding my arms across my chest. I wanted him to kill Pixie for me, even though I knew Bruce would never kill anyone. I also wasn't all too prepared to inform him on tomorrow night's escape plan with the Joker. I knew I had to, but I just wasn't sure how to bring it up.
"Still have it out for her, I see," Batman chuckled.
"Uh, yeah! I want her head on a stick!" I laughed, though my intentions were complete serious.
"Well, I can't do that—but I can set her up so she's caught by the GPD and sent to Gordon's unit," Batman explained, no longer laughing.
"I know, but as you know, that just won't do, for me. I want her dead—but don't you worry about that—I'll take care of it soon enough," I joked.
"Giada, please—you know better than that. I'm positive I can get her tonight if I work fast. I've hinted to Gordon that she might be involved in the mob's plans tonight, but from what I've gathered, it's all still up in the air,"
"No Bruce—please don't capture her—I promise that when I do, I'll handle it my own way—but it's not your job to punish her. It's mine," I reasoned with him. He was silent for a moment, I think considering and weighing his options. Finally he nodded. I knew he was against this, but as my friend, he respectfully held on to my wishes.
"Whatever you end up doing to her—I don't want to know," he finally spoke. I nodded my head in agreement.
"Will do, sir," I smiled back at him, "Oh, which reminds me—quickly before you …take off," I had to tell him about the Joker.
"What is it?"
"Well, just so you're not surprised…well,"
"Don't even tell me the Joker's escaped and that he's with her this evening—I will have that psychopath arrested if I find him there," Batman growled. I froze with my eyes wide. I hadn't anticipated this kind of response from Bruce.
"Oh, um, no—he's still in Arkham—and that's where he's staying!" I exclaimed, as though I was glad the Joker was a prisoner in the asylum.
"So what were you going to tell me?" he asked, a bit antsy to get going.
"Oh—I think the Riddler might be back on the streets. He escaped some time last night," I lied.
"Oh, that loon—I remember him. Well, thanks for the heads up, babe," he responded, leaned in to kiss my forehead and went to jump off the escape.
"Wait!" I called out to him.
"What?" he asked, resisting the urge to jump.
"Bruce, you're really great to me. I just wanted to tell you that—you really mean so much to me. I…I…hope you know I'd never intentionally hurt you," I stuttered. He smiled back at me.
"I know—you're just in love with a psychopath," he chuckled and then jumped off the fire escape. I shut the window and locked it. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I walked into my bedroom to get ready for bed. What the hell was I going to do?
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I punched in at 3:00 on Christmas Eve. Arkham had never looked so bleak—it must have been because I knew it was a happy holiday that I wouldn't be celebrating in the conventional sense I once knew so well, the complete Italian tradition of seven fishes.
I hastily made my way to my office. I unlocked my door and held my breath as I flung it open, nearly expecting to see the Joker sitting in my office awaiting my arrival. To my slight dismay, my office was dark and empty. I flicked on the lights and took a seat at my desk, dropping my bags to the floor. Breathing deep and exhaling fully in anticipation for this evening's Joker heist, I took out his chart one final time. As I stared at the cover of the chart, I wondered what time I would be assisting in the Joker's escape. I opened the chart and a Joker card fell to the floor. My heart jumped at the memorable gesture. Leaning down, I picked up the card from the floor and held it gingerly in my hand as I read the message
Be a good girl. I'll be waiting at 9. – J.
Be a good girl? What the hell was he thinking?! What I was about to do was NOT good—in fact, it was far from it. I didn't understand him sometimes. Maybe that was his point—to say I would be a good girl for helping him escape and going through with the plan. On top of it all, I wouldn't even consider myself to be a 'girl' anymore—was twenty-seven for crying out loud!
Well, at least I knew what time to bail him out of the loony cell. I glanced at the clock. I had five and a half hours. I groaned and slammed my head down on the desk. This was going to be a long evening.
"Giada?" a knock and a voice came from my office door. I lifted my head and twirled around in my chair.
"Come in!" I called. My heart stopped at the person who stood before me.
"Bruce what are you doing here?!" I exclaimed, completely taken by surprise. He smiled and let himself in, closing he door behind him.
"Well, last night after I dropped by, I kept thinking about that conversation we had. I felt kind of bad the way I left it—I mean, you poured out your feelings to me and I just brushed it off like some arrogant fool," he explained, sitting across the desk from me.
"Oh, don't worry about it—I mean, I didn't really care at all," I laughed, hoping it would lessen his guilt.
"No, I mean, I didn't really get the chance to clue you in on my feelings on the matter," he further explained.
"What do you mean? What matter are you talking about?" I asked, confused.
"Well, from the sound of it last night, I thought you were…confessing…your feelings for me," he stated, a bit hesitantly, "which was why I felt so awful for the way I replied,"
"Oh! No! Bruce—I"
"I just wanted to let you know that I feel the same," he confessed. My eyes widened at his confession.
"Oh Bruce," I didn't know what else to say. I didn't really love Bruce like that—I loved him as a friend. Maybe he wouldn't take this so harshly, although, Rachel let him down too. The poor guy keeps finishing last!
"Giada, I care a lot about you, but I know I can never change the way you see some things. As much as I've grown to love you and as much as I would love to try and begin a meaningful romantic relationship with you, I know that I could never fill that…part of you—that part of you I fail to comprehend. I'm sorry,"
"Bruce," I smiled, almost laughing. I felt so relieved. I could definitely play this one out, "I'm so glad you feel that way—I mean, of course I'm regretful that we cannot be together, but I too feel that some things just…need to be left alone. I completely understand,"
I felt bad lying to him about my feelings, but I think it was the right thing to do at the time. I didn't want him to think I didn't care for him, because I did. In fact, I felt that if I never met the Joker, I probably would have fallen head over heels in love with Bruce. He was an attractive, kind hearted and wonderful person. He was a fantastic friend and I could only imagine what a brilliant boyfriend he would make.
We smiled back at each other.
"I love being your friend, Giada. I hope you always remember that," he said finally, smiling at me.
"The same can be said for me," I replied, retuning his bright smile. He stood from his chair and pulled me up to my feet. He wrapped his strong arms around me and held me in a close, tight embrace. I felt safe in his arms. I always felt safe in Bruce's arms. He kissed my forehead and released me.
"Well, I just had to stop by and talk to you—I won't keep you from your work any longer," he grinned.
"It's no trouble at all—I don't have much to do until the med pass at 5:00. You can stay if you like. Maybe if you'd like become Batman, I can take you up to see Mr. J," I coaxed. Bruce's eye narrowed, but then his face softened.
"You know, that might not be such a bad idea. I'd like to talk to him about Pixie, if I could get some kind of insight into her mind, that would be real helpful," Bruce thought aloud. My heart sank. That was not what I had in mind at all!
"Would you mind, Giada? This would really help me out a lot—if you'd like, you can stay for the questioning," Bruce urged.
"Oh, that'd be nice," I lied. Bruce didn't know the Joker remembered me—that he never forgot me with Pixie's dust. The Joker didn't know that Bruce Wayne was the Batman. I sighed and nodded my head in approval. Bruce excused himself momentarily—I guess it was to change into his Batman clothes. I expected him to take at least an hour, but he returned in less than thirty minutes. He must have flown home, jumped into his suit and flown back.
"The Joker is up on the sixth floor," I explained to Bruce as we walked down the hall and then up the stairs to the sixth floor. My heart was pounding as we walked closer to the Joker's room. I stopped suddenly as I saw his door.
"It's right there," I pointed. Batman walked up to the door and turned to me.
"I need your help to get in," he reminded me.
I laughed, "Oh right," I nervously edged up to the room, "Let me prepare him for this first,"
Batman nodded his head in agreement. I swiped my badge and I opened the door to find the Joker sitting up on his bed. He turned his head to me and grinned widely.
"So you came by—a little early though," he mused as he jumped off the bed. I moved in closer to him, so close that I could feel the heat of his body.
"I didn't plan this—don't be mad at me—but you have a visitor. You'll probably enjoy this, but please don't think I had anything to do with it. He came to me," I explained into his ear softly. I leaned away from him and observed the expression on his face. He looked serious and thoughtful as he pursed his lips.
"Hm, a visitor?" he asked.
"I'll still be coming by at 9, so don't worry," I spoke again softly to him. I then opened the door and let Bruce inside. I watched the Joker's expression change instantly from thoughtful and serious to ecstatic and elated.
"Batman, please do your best not to harass our patient. Joker, please do your best not to harass your visitor," I said, almost through clenched teeth as I started moving through the door.
"Oh Dr. DiMarco! Do stay!" The Joker exclaimed through giggles, clearly playing along and pretending not to remember who I was. I forced the smile back and kept on my serious face.
"Well, I think that's up to the Batman—he's got some questions for you," I explained.
"You can stay," the Batman grumble, taking a seat at the table. The Joker followed his lead and patted a seat on his bed for me to sit. I hesitated a moment before taking him up on the offer. I sat down uneasily as I began to witness a conversation I really didn't want to hear.
"Joker, I'm not here to fight—I just have some concerns about your girlfriend Pixie Dust," Batman began. I cringed at the word 'girlfriend'.
The Joker licked his lips, "What do you want to know, Batsy?" he asked, leaning forward onto his hands as his elbows supported him against the table.
"The dust that she uses—what does it do and where does she get her materials from?" Batman inquired in his deep grumbling voice.
The Joker laughed for a moment and licked his lips again before answering, "Why…they're all plant based, of course—she's a botanist. Smart, but not so smart as my blushing therapist behind me,"
"I'm not asking about Giada—I'm asking about Pixie," Batman interrupted.
"So hasty, Batsy! I was getting there! She makes dust from plants—all kinds of dust that does al kinds of things to her…" her cleared his throat, "victims,"
"Like what?"
"Well, for starters, there is one that kills you—instantly—upon breathing it. Then there's the 'rape' dust, as I call it—makes you succumb to her and then she kills you. Then there's the one that erases memory," he paused for a moment, licked his lips, "Then there's the sugar dust—supposed to taste sweet. She'll put it in food or a tasty beverage—it'll do one of two things to the person depending on the person's chemistry in the brain. That was the one she told me to use, since I'm not as immune to plant dust as she is,"
"So you were her…sugar man?" I blurted out, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of her madness. Plant dust—really?! What a stupid bitch!
"Not exactly—though it sounds like I was looking back on it now," he replied, licking his lips and raising his eyebrows.
"Where does she obtain the materials to make these dusts?" Batman asked, his voice low and husky.
The Joker rolled his eyes and licked his lips, "Anywhere—museums, chemical plants, the zoo—anywhere there's…unique materials that can manipulate the human body. She grows her own plants, though,"
"Some of the dusts are distributed by her as a drug—she tells people it's some kind of," he cleared his throat, "psychoactive drug, and then sells it. A lot of people buy them thinking they're cocaine or heroine," the Joker continued.
"Does she distribute actual illicit drugs too?" Batman asked, hoping I think to get more shit on her.
"No—but she makes these dusts and sells them to drug deals in exchange for cocaine and heroine—not something we'd do all too frequently, but enough,"
My heart stopped. I didn't know he used drugs! I should have guess or assumed he did, or at least did in the past, but it was something that never crossed my mind. The Joker—snorting lines of cocaine off a table or shooting up heroine. I wanted to die. I was not a person who liked admitting my addiction to cocaine years ago—but for some reason, it was difficult for me to admit to myself that the Joker did drugs—that he did drugs with Pixie. I almost felt jealous that he'd used my drug of choice with her and never with me. I was glad to be cocaine free—I never wanted to go back to that life or addiction, but the jealousy still stung.
I wanted to kill this woman. I wanted her dead. I couldn't believe Bruce was subjecting me to this conversation. I couldn't believe he was making me sit through his question and answer session with Pixie's 'Sugar Man'. It made me sick. It made me furious. I did my best to blot out the remainder of the conversation, focusing on ways I could murder the bitch.
I'd love to have the bitch OD on some real pure cocaine. Hmph. Sugar. My Joker as her sugar man. Sugar man my ass.