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56. A Blast from the Past
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Disclaimer: There is some alcohol use in this chapter—so beware! I am not promoting alcohol use unless you are of age! Haha jk! Be safe…I love you all!!! Also, there is a 10 Things I hate About You moment that Giada has. I just love the moment in the movie where Julia Styles dances on the table at the party to Notorious BIG. I do not own this moment!
The Joker and I walked through the quiet streets of Gotham. Not many people were out at 2:30 in the morning on what would be the day after Christmas Day. The silence of the city was only further magnified by the lack of conversation between the Joker and me. We strolled down the street, neither one of us willing to say the first word of a sentence. I was not in the best of moods—in fact, I was rather pissed off at the Joker for putting me in that situation with Pixie, even though it wasn't for the betterment of her. It pleased me he had the right kind of intentions, but it was nothing something I wished to pursue, but now had to. I think he was afraid I would shoot him in the face with my 9mm if he spoke anything out of line. He saw that I was quiet angry—and everyone knows the best thing to do when with or around a pissed Sicilian is to just shut the hell up. You will get shot.
"I'm heading this way," I said finally, breaking the silence as I turned to face him. I pointed to the direction I was headed—the way back to my apartment. He pursed his lips and then released a sigh through his nose.
"I knew you would do that," he said finally.
"Well did you really expect me to want to spend the night with you after making me deal with that?!" I asked, gesturing to the direction we had walked from. He just shook his head and grinned.
"You just wait Giada—when all else seems like it can't get any worse, I assure you it will. Misery loves company—remember that. I didn't ask you to be…nice…to her—but you did anyway. I knew you would. Something about you…you're too generous of a healthcare practitioner. But I know you won't always uphold your…policies. When it all drops, you'll end up breaking all your rules, because as we both know—the only sensible way to live in this world is without rules," the Joker stated.
"Yeah—I recall you telling me that. And I assure you, if she pushes me far enough, I will kill her," I snapped back at him and turned to leave.
"Fair enough—I have no jurisdiction!" he called after me. I simply kept walking, ignoring his comment. I was absolutely livid. I couldn't even comprehend what I had just done for Pixie—my own archnemesis! I hated her and there I was—helping her. I wanted to puke.
I made it back to my apartment by 3:00. I slammed my door shut, stripped my clothes from my body and climbed into bed. I fell immediately into a deep sleep, complete with two full cycles of REM. I would have been glad for this, but my dream sequence was hardly something I wanted to remember when I woke the following morning.
I was in Pixie's apartment tending to her every need. She was lying in her bed, doped up on drugs and the Joker was sitting by her head stroking her hair to comfort her. In the second dream, the Joker showed me a tattoo he had just gotten—it was Pixie's name boldly printed on his upper arm. He told me it was so that she would leave us alone when the baby was born. I was confused by his logic and decided to just snort a line of cocaine.
I sat up in bed and gagged. I cursed my REM—how dare it plague me with such detesting dreams! I never knew my psyche was capable of such filth. Disgusted with myself, I jumped out of bed and ran immediately into the bathroom and hopped into the shower.
As I emerged from the bathroom, the phone in my apartment started ringing. I made my way into the kitchen and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Giada, it's Bruce,"
I smiled at the sound of his voice. He was just what I needed after the sour evening I had been through.
"Hey Bruce, what's up?" I asked, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear as I wandered back into my bedroom.
"I was calling to see if you'd like to join me this evening at the Iceberg Lounge," Bruce invited me. He sounded eager to take me out. Odd.
"Well, seeing as how I have no plans, that sounds good to me. Hey! Isn't that the place owned by Mr. Cobblepot?" I asked, interested in what he had to say about this man.
"Yes, it would be. I'm sorry for that last night. I just wasn't really sure what to do and Oswald was there and happened to offer his greeting services to me. I kind of had to oblige. I hope you understand," Bruce explained.
"Oh, I see. Nah, it's okay! He seemed friendly enough," I replied, struggling to keep my balance as I shoved one leg at a time into my jeans.
"Well, I'll explain to you later on why it's important for us to be present at the Iceberg," Bruce stated finally.
"Why can't you tell me now? I'm not busy—I've got the time,"
"I'd rather do it in person," he said. We were silent for a moment before I replied.
"Okay. What time do you want me to meet you?" I asked.
"Is 10:00 too late?" Bruce asked.
"Nope. I don't have work tomorrow—it's Saturday," I replied. "Is anyone else going to be there we know?"
"I'm sure you'll recognize a few people. Maybe even your Joker will be there," Bruce responded.
"The Joker? At a nightclub?" I laughed, "Dubious,"
"We'll see," Bruce chuckled.
"Okay. Well, I'll see you at 10 then," I said.
"Right. See you then,"
"Bye"
"Bye"
I hung up the phone and finished getting dressed. That was quite the interesting conversation. I just couldn't see why Bruce would have a reason for us to attend the Iceberg Lounge. I also couldn't picture the Joker being in a nightclub—dancing? Hardly! And I wondered who else would be there that I might know…according to Bruce. It was all so strange. It didn't sound like a normal situation—but then again, for me, what was normal in Gotham?!
I dried my hair and put on some makeup and decided to lounge around my apartment. It was nice not having anything to do. Around 2:30 I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and decided to watch a really long movie to waste time.
"Hm, I think I'll watch you," I pulled Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring from my DVD collection and popped it into the DVD player. I sat down under the blanket on my couch and watched the extended edition for the next four and half hours.
At 7:00, the movie ended and I was in tears. I always hated how first movie ended—I guess it was more that I never wanted it to end—I never wanted the fellowship to break up. I wiped the idiotic tears from my eyes and put the DVD away back on the shelf. Aside from being fantastic movies, they were a great way to pass the time—especially the extended versions, which I had all three.
I wandered into the kitchen and placed a pot of water on the stove to boil. It was dinner time—Italian style. As I gathered my ingredients for my quick marinara, I felt a pang of sadness. I missed the Joker. It took me back to the night he invited himself into my apartment and ate dinner with me. It was the first night he and I spent together. I remembered we had quite the psychological debate. Of course we got nowhere because we are basically able to reach each other's minds. I frowned. I wished he would walk through the door and join me for dinner. He probably figured I was still pissed at him—which I mostly was—but I missed him. Of course I still loved him. I just wished he would kill Pixie with me rather than trying to protect her. Nothing could be worse than him trying to make sure she was okay—and by using me to make sure of this!
I angrily chopped my vegetables and shoved them all into a pot on the stove. I plopped the tomatoes into the pot, garlic, basil and two bay leaves.
About an hour later, I ate dinner. Time was slowly ticking away. In no time, it would be 10 and I would be with Bruce at the Iceberg Lounge—hopefully having questions answered. Hopefully, I would be having a good time and enjoying myself for once. It felt like lately, I was just getting continually shit on! I was surprised I was in such a chipper mood considering all the crap I had been putting up with this holiday season. Well, I guess when we're down at the bottom, the only way to go is up.
I finished my dinner, cleaned up and made my way into my bedroom to ready myself for the nightclub. I couldn't remember the last time I had gone to a club—one that I wasn't dancing in—for fun with friends. It had to have been college! I decided I would go all out and wear some tight jeans and a black shirt that tied around my neck. It was fitted, but flowed loosely in the front and had a dark pink studded brooch in front where the ties joined to the shirt. I then threw on some black heels, fixed my makeup and sprayed a little perfume at my wrists. I threw on my coat and placed my license and credit card into my pocket. There was no way I'd be taking my purse into a club.
At exactly 10:02 pm, I walked into the Iceberg Lounge nightclub. Goldfrapp's "Lovely 2 C U" was blaring. The bass pounded strongly in my chest as I walked through the coat room and checked in my coat. The club was darkly lit by several purple, blue and green lights that coated the dance floor and surrounding lounge tables and chairs. I spotted Bruce sitting at a table in a corner by the dance floor. He stood up and waved as we caught each other's eyes. I briskly made my way over to him.
"Lovely to see you, Bruce," I sang along with the music as I hugged him. He chuckled and then sat down. I followed his lead and took my seat across the table. A single electric candle was at the center of the table, giving off a slight illumination. I like the ambiance it gave the club.
"So, how do you like this place?" Bruce asked, leaning close to me over the table.
"It's nice! I like the ambiance!" I shouted over the loud music. He smiled and sat back in his chair.
"You look nice this evening too!" he shouted back with a laugh. We both chuckled at how we had to hold a conversation, but then Bruce took his chair and set it beside mine.
"So, Giada, if you look over there, you'll see Oswald," Bruce pointed out as he spoke closely to my ear so we did not need to shout. I nodded my head and glanced in the direction he gestured discretely.
"How long has he owned this place?" I asked.
"A while now. See, Giada—Oswald isn't…your average billionaire," Bruce stated.
"He's a billionaire? Like you?" I asked, smirking.
"Yes—but not in the same sense that I am one—he's no philanthropist, Giada. He's, well, the Penguin,"
"What is it with you people being so rude to that poor man?! He can't help he has a pointy nose!" I exclaimed.
"No, Giada—that's his name—his other alias, if you will. Just as I am Batman, he's the Penguin," Bruce explained more quietly.
"Oh Jesus—so he's…a…a…bad guy?" I asked, my voice hushed. Britney Spears' "Gimme More" filled the club loudly. I had nothing to worry about.
"Yes—but even more, this place is where most of Gotham's criminals hang out. It's the perfect place for me to be so that I can…explore their plans—their courses of action, rather," Bruce explained.
"Oh wow—I had no idea! And you said the Joker comes here too?" I asked, looking around to see if I saw his purple jacket and painted face milling about.
"Yes—he's been here. Not recently though—he hasn't been here in probably a couple of weeks, but I'm anticipating him on showing up relatively soon. See, with a few other criminals out of Arkham, he's pretty much back on the map,"
"Why? Who else is gone?" I asked, my eyes searching the crowd.
"Well, of course Maroni is back on the streets—but I'm surprised you haven't noticed Edward Nygma's been gone from the asylum. He escaped, courtesy of the Joker a few days ago," Bruce explained.
"Oh—well he was changed from my caseload to Dr. Gerard's—but that's nuts! I had no idea! I feel like a bad therapist now! So, he goes by…the Riddler, right?" I asked.
"Yes. And of course, the Joker will be conning up something with Maroni and his men—no doubt in another attempt at taking over Gotham," Bruce continued saying.
"Well, do you think it's possible for us to just have a good time tonight, and not pay attention to the criminals gathered here?" I asked, "I mean, not many of them will recognize me without my face paint on as Jade—and the Riddler doesn't even know I have the second alias as Jade," I explained.
"Sure. Want to dance?" Bruce asked as he stood to his feet. I smiled and stood up next to him.
"You bet!" I exclaimed as I led Bruce out onto the dance floor. Timbaland's "The Way I Are" just started playing and I was absolutely in love with that song. Bruce and I danced, platonically, to the song. It was a blast. I sang along, belting the words loudly over the music as we danced. I was glad Bruce was a good dancer. I could never imagine being in this kind of situation with the Joker. Dancing with Bruce brought me back to the days when I was in college and my friends and I would have dance parties over winter break. We would just get drunk and dance and have a great time. I think Bruce caught on to the same idea I had and led me over to the bar.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Tequila shot! One for me and one for you!" I exclaimed excitedly. Bruce grimaced at the idea of shooting tequila, but ordered them regardless. We licked our hands, poured the salt on the wet part and took the tequila in our hands.
"Okay, on the count of three," I instructed, holding the lime in my salted hand.
"Okay. A toast, first though!" Bruce suggested.
"Alright—you make it though—I'm terrible at making toasts," I laughed.
"Okay, okay. Here's to us having a great time tonight and just letting go of all the stresses we've been encountering in our lives lately—we deserve it," Bruce raised his glass to mine and clanked it. I nodded my head with a smile, licked the salt, took the shot and then sucked on the lime. Bruce and I both puckered our faces at shock of the tequila. Laughing, he then ordered us another round of shots. We took the second one quicker and it hurt a lot less. Giggling like little school girls, we made our way onto the crowded dance floor. We danced to the next couple of songs, until I decided it was necessary for us to have one more shot of tequila. I dragged Bruce over to the bar and ordered us another round of shots. Bruce grimaced at the thought of having to shoot another tequila shot, but he bucked up and did it like Batman. Ha! I loved that I was drinking with the Bat!
When the clock struck midnight, Bruce and I were on the dance floor, five shots each in, and sweating like we had been dancing for hours—which we had been. The clubs spun about me as the lights decorated the walls and ceiling and people with their dim glow.
Little to my knowledge, at precisely 12:34, the Joker entered the Iceberg Lounge. The club was much more crowded than it had been when Bruce and I arrived two and half hours ago, but it was still easy to spot people. Bruce and I were out on the dance floor dancing up a storm to all kinds of crazy music. But I was having a 90s moment—I needed to hear some songs of my childhood.
"Bruce! Will you request a song for me?" I shouted drunkenly to him.
"Sure! What song?" he slurred.
"Hypnotize—by Notorious B.I.G!" I shouted back. Bruce nodded and headed for the DJ. In just a moment, he returned to me smiling. I knew it would play at any moment. I had to hear it—it took me back to high school.
Just as I suspected, in moments, the song began. I screamed in excitement and jumped up onto the nearest platform so that I was high above the rest of the dance floor. I danced solo on top of the platform while people from the dance floor started gathering around me and cheered me on to keep dancing.
The Joker, passing through the coat room heard the crowed cheering and cast his gaze at me up on the platform dancing solo to the song. A grin crossed his lips as he meandered through the crowed to get a closer look at me. I was clearly, highly intoxicated, and this only further amused him. He remained at the back of the club, as close as he could get without being too noticeable, with his arms folded across his chest. The grin on his face turned into a broad smile as I finished my platform dance and hopped off the table and started dancing with Bruce. We grinded close, the way we all used to dance back in high school to this song. The Joker's smile faded, as he noticed who I was dancing with—Bruce Wayne. His eyes darted through the crowd, looking for any others he recognized, a sad attempt at removing his eyes from my dirty dancing with Bruce. And yet, his eyes kept coming back to Bruce and me dancing. He licked his lips and then pursed them, averting his eyes once more.
The music changed and Bruce and I decided to take a break from dancing. He led me back to our table, which happened to be near where the Joker stood. However, I never saw him, because he removed himself from my line of sight before we returned to the table. He removed himself from the club entirely. In that moment, he wished he could be like Bruce Wayne—dancing with me. He wished he could be like Bruce Wayne—with me, dancing, not wearing his face paint, not wearing the purple suit. He pursed his lips tightly as he thought through the situation. I had two aliases—but he did not. He was simply, the Joker. But with me, sometimes he would slip into his old alias—the one he was before he became the Joker. He was perfectly satisfied with the man he had become as the Joker—but for some reason, he was jealous of Bruce Wayne and his normal, good looking appearance. Maybe he felt threatened. Maybe he wished he could look like Bruce Wayne. But to me, he was just as handsome as Bruce Wayne—with or without the makeup.
For reasons he could not explain, the Joker went back to his apartment, and transformed himself for the first time in years—he transformed himself into the man he was before the war. He rinsed the green from his hair he had just applied that same evening, revealing his true, light brown hair. He washed the paint from his face entirely and dressed himself in clothing he had hidden deep within the confines of his dresser. He couldn't remember the last time he wore the dark blue, form fitting jeans hidden at the bottom of his dresser. They felt alien as they clung snugly to him. He wore a gray wife beater underneath a blue button down shirt that he left open at the top. The shirt was tucked into the jeans that he wore with a black belt. Finally, over the shirt, he wore a maroon jacket.
As he stared at himself in the mirror, he noticed just how long his hair had gotten. It was at his shoulders. Just as it had been when he was back in high school. Ironic that he should want to revert to this style tonight when he noticed his hair's length. He shrugged and left the apartment.
The Joker arrived back at the club at around 1:00. Bruce and I were dancing again among the many other club goers and criminals. It was such an odd experience to be having such a great time amongst great criminal minds. I guess it have to be something I got used to for Bruce's sake.
The Joker saw us dancing and he immediately had a surge of confidence. He made his way through the crowd. Not one person recognized him. He tapped me on the shoulder and Bruce's eyes averted to the man standing behind me. I don't know what Bruce was thinking, but his face went blank. I think he was searching for a memory of the face, but he couldn't find one.
"Dance with me," the voice said from behind me. I turned around and saw the Joker standing behind me. My heart stopped. I almost didn't recognize his voice. It was softer—lower. If it weren't for the fact I had memorized his eyes, I would have never known it was him. Bruce grinned at me and headed back to the table. I turned back towards the Joker and smiled drunkenly up at him. A new song began, Timbaland's "Scream". It was perfect. The Joker wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him. Our bodies fit tightly together as he moved his hips in time to the rhythm of the music. I was completely shocked at what a sexy dancer he was! I would have never pinned him for it.
"I think you forget that I was in high school when you were," he whispered into my ear. He knew I was in awe at his dancing skills, "because I too danced to Notorious B.I.G"
I looked up at him and laughed. It felt so normal to be dancing with him like this. It felt so normal to have his pressed up to me this close. It felt normal to have our legs between one another's as we danced—we fit perfectly together. He held his head close to mine as we dance. It felt so normal—like we were at some high school dance or party or something—years ago, before either of us knew anything about the world of crime. I felt like Pixie must have when she was dating him back in high school. I felt like I finally was able to have something she had—a moment with the Joker as the man he was so many years ago—something she had known so well before he went off to war. I had always known him as the Joker—and I knew him so well as the Joker. I loved him—was absolutely infatuated by him as the Joker. But tonight was so different and it felt normal. It felt right. It felt like we weren't criminals—like we didn't kill people—like Pixie didn't exist—like we would leave this party at 2:00 and he would take me home in his car and kiss me good-night before letting me sneak in before my parents knew I was awake that late. I felt giddy inside—like I hadn't felt in years.
When the song ended, he held on to me for another moment longer, and then finally let me go. We smiled at each other.
"I'll let you get back to your…date with Mr. Wayne," he snickered. I rolled my eyes at him.
"It's not a date—Bruce is my best friend," I explained, "Oh, you didn't really know that, did you?"
"I do now," he retorted with a small grin. I returned his grin, careful not to give away the fact that Bruce is also Batman. He turned away from me and headed out of the crowd. I chased after him and spun him around.
"Where are you going?!" I shouted at him over the music.
"Back to my apartment. I did what I came for—we danced. I proved to you I can dance," he giggled.
"Well, you certainly surprised me. You look…really hot," I laughed as I ran my fingers through his curly hair and then down his shoulder and arm. "Not to say that you're not hot…as you…but this is just…different. I like it. It makes me feel like I'm in high school with you or something,"
"That would be the point. Very good, Giada!" he clapped his hands together.
Suddenly, he squinted his eyes as he peered off into the distance at the back of the club. I turned to face the direction he was studying.
"What is it?" I asked, trying to see what he was looking at. Suddenly, I saw Bruce, sitting at our table with a gorgeous blonde woman.
"Looks like Bruce Wayne found…someone else to talk to," he said, unsure of who Bruce was talking to.
"Who is it? Do you know her? Does she come here often?" I asked, eager to know who Bruce was talking.
He shook his head and placed his arm around me, "Better come with me," he said finally.
"Do you know her?" I repeated myself.
"Let's get out of here, Giada. You had fun tonight, right?" the Joker asked, peering down at me as he led me out of the club.
"Yes, I had a blast," I smiled back at him.
"Let's…leave it at that, then," the Joker replied.