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57. A Modification
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Disclaimer: Sorry it has taken me so long to update! School's started getting a bit heavy on the reading and homework! I'll do my best to update ASAP for the rest of the semester, but please do not hate me it the updates become less and less frequent. I promise you all I will keep writing and updating, it just may not be all too frequent (sad face) Also, I am using "Kay's" idea/review regarding the Joker's hair—thank you for that! Thank you all for your suggestions and guesses as to what's going on!! I love it! I may take some of your suggestions. If I do, you'll know! (Love Jacq's idea of having Pixie's baby's father be Penguin. Made me laugh out loud when I read that review! Hahaha!) My love to you all!
I followed the Joker out of the Iceberg Lounge and into the streets. I turned around and realized that no one had noticed the Joker leaving the club—in fact, no one had noticed he had been there at all. This perplexed me, but then I realized it had to have been because of his makeup—or lack-thereof. I guess he even had me surprised by his appearance at first, but once I knew it was him, it was just so obvious. How could no one notice the scars? I guess I hadn't, at first. I knew it was him because of his eyes—his deep brown eyes. They were so dark and penetrating that no other pair of eyes could even compare. Only his eyes had the ability to stare deep into mine and understand my very existence.
His hand wrapped itself gently about my wrist as we walked the streets of Gotham. It was a different sensation—walking with the Joker in open streets. I glanced over at him, wondering if we'd take the alley ways back to his apartment or mine, but he made no effort to be hidden. We just kept walking in silence through the streets. People passed us as we walked and didn't look twice. It wasn't until the police cruiser passed us and didn't flash its lights that I realized why the Joker took the long, revealing way home. I smiled at him and he glanced down at me.
"Why so smiley?" he asked, twisting his usual question along with a twisted smile on his face.
"Because we're walking openly down the streets—no one knows who you are. You like that, don't you?" I asked, still smiling at him.
"It's…different," he smirked back at me.
"No, really—talk to me! You like it—because if you didn't you wouldn't be smiling. You wouldn't have done it—you wouldn't be making an effort to take the long way home," I urged him. He rolled his eyes at me, licked his lips and then sighed.
"You know…when I saw you with Bruce Wayne tonight…I just, had to," he replied, pausing mid-stride. I paused and turned towards him. His eyes were averted, glancing off into the street, seemingly avoiding mine.
"You had to?" I asked, confused, but slightly pleased at his response. My lips curled into a grin at the corner of my mouth.
"I could have gone in there and danced with you…as me—but, I thought…no, no…no, this would be much more fun—for the both of us," he responded, licking his lips. I nodded my head and followed him as he continued walking. I waited a while before responding to him.
"Well, you were right—it was fun—and different," I spoke finally. He glanced over at me and smirked.
"I…would like to go there again with you, Giada," the Joker said finally, moments later.
"That would be fun," I agreed, smiling and nodding my head. We had stopped walking. I glanced around me and realized we were outside of my apartment. I looked over at the Joker and saw him just standing there, somewhat awkwardly.
"Do you want to come inside?" I asked, swallowing the spit that had built up in my mouth for anxiety. I always got nervous at the end of a Joker event. I was never sure what he was going to do—would he leave—would he invited me back to his place—would he come inside and spend the night? I never could be sure.
"I…I'd like that," he responded, licking his lips. I simply smiled and led the way into my building. My heart pounded inside my chest as we ascended to the top floor in the elevator. We just remained in silence until the door opened up to my floor. I led the way to my apartment door, each step feeling like I was eons from the door, which was only right down the hall.
Within moments, we were inside my apartment. I flipped on the lights and kicked off my heels. My feet were absolutely throbbing. It had been ages since I'd worn heels with that kind of height. I dropped down onto the couch and eyed the Joker as he made his way to the familiar couch. I realized in that moment that it was his first time back in my apartment in two years. It must have been a weird feeling for him. He haphazardly sat beside me and put his feet up on the coffee table. We sat in silence for a moment, until my racing mind came across a fond memory. A grin slid across my lips as I turned my head to face him.
"Want some punch?" I asked, still smiling. I hoped he remembered the name of his horrible alcoholic concoction of two years ago. Luckily, a familiar smile spread across his lips and he nodded.
"Oh yes—you make it well, Giada," he giggled. My heart raced as I jumped to my feet and made my way into the kitchen.
I was elated in that moment. I was soaked in my complete and utter affection for the Joker as he sat on my couch, anticipating my return. When I finished concocting his tasty beverage, I returned to the sofa and we drank our alcoholic beverages in antsy silence. When we finished, we were both tipsy, giggly, and ready to please one another. We scrambled to the bedroom and landed on the bed, eagerly undressing each other. Our night was filled with a variety of sex—lustful and void of emotion, and romantic.
It was a strange feeling waking up next to the Joker when he didn't appear like…the Joker. I hadn't noticed just how long his hair had become—and that it wasn't tinted green. I hoisted myself up onto my elbow as I continued admiring him in his sleep. A smile crept across my lips as I scanned his face—perfectly sculpted, including the scars. Fearful of falling into a bout of emotional mushiness, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a nice hot shower and brushing of my teeth. As I washed my hair, I wondered what the Joker would do if I offered to cut his hair. He would probably stab me with the scissors, but it was worth a try. I mean, I did love his hair no matter how long it was, but he just didn't seem to resemble the man I fell in love with two years ago—when his hair was shorter, slightly green and wavy. Now it was just shoulder length, wavy and brown. I guess I had always known it was brown, and I had seen him and his brown hair before, but he was always quick to wash the green back into it. For some reason, last night he had decided to go more…non-Joker to the club, which was a nice surprise. I just wasn't sure as to why he did it. I never thought the Joker would have a want or need to be anything other than…the Joker.
Curious, I stepped out of the shower, towel dried my curly hair, brushed my teeth and went back into my bedroom. To my surprise, the Joker was sitting up in bed looking around the room.
"There you are! So glad you came back!" he exclaimed with a wild smile.
"Yeah, just took a shower—no harm done!" I responded as I searched through my drawers for some clothes.
"Of course," he replied with a grin. Still naked, he stood to his feet. For some reason, I couldn't remove my eyes from him. I was finally able to study his body in daylight—his beautifully carved body—untouched by blades of torture.
"A little modesty, please, Giada," he snickered as he saw my constant gaze on him as he searched the floor for his clothes. I blushed at his realization and went back to finding clothes of my own.
"Sorry about that," I muttered, embarrassed.
"Seriously?" he asked, walking up behind me. He pulled the towel from my hands and threw it to the floor. He wrapped his arms around me, pressing himself entirely against me. The sensation of his warm body flushed completely against mine was just thrilling. It sent shivers up and down my back. He leaned his head into my neck and kissed it up to me ear. His hair fell over my face and filled my nose with his strange scent that I was so oddly obsessed with. The Joker moved his hands up from my waist and cupped my breasts until I shivered again.
"You don't have a reason to be…sorry," he whispered finally into my ear and then removed himself from me. I turned around towards him and frowned. He was so warm and amazing—I wanted him that close to me forever. I decided in that moment that it was unacceptable for him to ever be less than 5 cm from me.
"You should do that more often," I suggested, then turned away from him and pulled on my underwear, bra and clothes.
The Joker just giggled at the thought and threw on his clothing from the night before. As he pulled on his crimson overcoat, I really noticed just how long his hair actually was. Again, he caught me staring at him. This time, I found I had even tilted my head in thought as to how I would begin cutting it—provided he let me.
"Giadaaaaa, you're staring again. Do we have a problem here? Hm?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and licking his lips. I shook my head and then took in a deep breath.
"I have question—well, more of a proposition, really, for you," I stated nervously.
"Oh, what's the matter? You look nervous?" he asked in his coaxing Joker-way. I smirked at his question and let out a small laugh. Again, I shook my head.
"Well, maybe a little nervous—but only because it is a strange question/proposition thing," I briefed him.
"Well…?" he asked as he folded his arms across his chest and waited for my inquiry.
"Okay—well, I don't know if you've noticed or not…but your hair—"
"Isn't green. I'm aware," he interrupted, rolling his eyes.
"Um, not quite what I was going for, but yes, it's not green—and by the way, may I ask you as to why you did that?" I asked, curious for his response.
"Did what? Dye it green or un-dye it green?" he asked, smirking wildly. He looked absolutely delicious in the way he coaxed me with his smile. He knew things I didn't know and it drove me mad!
"Why you…un-dyed it," I hesitated, unsure if 'un-dyed' was proper English or not.
"Because I wanted to look…different…for one night—well, different for me, anyway; like everyone else, for you," he explained, licking his lips.
"But why? I think you look amazing with green hair—and the purple suit and the makeup," I urged, trying to assure him I accepted him for him.
"Right—but last night, I saw you dancing with Bruce Wayne…and well…I just had to be…normal for you—for just that one night—at least," he explained, nearly clenching his teeth.
I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. I was pretty sure he had been jealous of Bruce, but I wouldn't admit that to him, especially if he wasn't willing to admit it aloud. I nodded my head and smiled.
"Well, thank you—I enjoyed it quite a bit," I replied, "but back to the first matter at hand,"
"Oh right," he grinned, I think relieved to drop the subject of him harboring jealous feelings towards Bruce.
"Well, like I said, I'm not sure if you noticed or not, but your hair is…a bit…longer than usual," I pointed out. He looked around the room as though trying to see himself somehow. I pursed my lips as I led him to a mirror in the bathroom so he could see just how long his hair had become.
"Oh, so it has!" he exclaimed as he peered into the mirror with me.
"Right—so, I was wondering…just maybe…if you would possibly…let me…cut your hair," I stammered. There was silence. The Joker just stared at himself in the mirror for a few moments and then averted his eyes to me standing beside him. A smirk began curling up on the edge of his lips as he glanced at me.
"I do love the way you think Giadaaa—this will be so fun!" he giggled finally. I released a sigh of relief and laughed along with him.
"Okay, let me go get my scissors!" I exclaimed excitedly.
"Wha…wait…we're doing this now?" He asked, suddenly anxious as he followed me out of the bathroom.
"Uh…yeah," I said, scanning him up and down with my eyes.
"But Giada—it's such a rash decision…and so soon. At least let me change back into my clothes…at my place," he urged, still following me about the apartment like a puppy dog. I turned around on him and analyzed his face. I pursed my lips and then nodded in agreement.
"Okay. But we're going to your place now and getting this over and done with," I stated.
"Okay, okay—we're going," he agreed quickly. We were out the door without even the opportunity for hesitation. We hastily made our way through Gotham to the Joker's apartment, up the fire escape and in through the window.
"Just give me a minute!" he urged, stopping me in the kitchen as he ran to his room. I hoisted myself up onto the counter and waited while my now seemingly narcissistic Joker readied himself for the haircut of his life.
Moments later, he re-emerged from the bedroom, clothed in his purple pin stripe pants, blue shirt, tie and green vest and purple overcoat—face paint included. My heart skipped a beat at seeing him back to his normal ways again.
"You ready now?" I asked, hopping down from the counter. He nodded and led me into the bathroom. I removed the scissors from my pocket.
"You really should sit down on the toilet for this," I said, looking up at him. He was much too tall for me to cut his hand standing.
"I don't think having me take a shit while you do this is a very good idea, Giada," he mused.
"Haha, very funny, now sit your ass down," I said as I pushed him down onto the toilet and draped a towel about his shoulders. He looked absolutely dreadful—the nervous kind you get right before you know you're about to do something incredibly stupid. He had thought this was a great idea until I told him I wanted to do it today. Apparently he didn't think it was that great of an idea after all. Oh well. I would change his mind—I would make him into that dark and sexy Joker again. I was determined.
I wet his hair until it was good and wet through and through. I took the scissors to his hair and was about to cut, but something stopped me. Maybe I should use a razor blade—scissors would cut his hair too straight and that wouldn't look right.
"Do you have a razor I can use?" I asked.
"Do I have a razor? Do you know who you're asking?" he asked sarcastically. I blushed. I knew after I asked it was a stupid question.
"I have one that should work in the bedroom—on the dresser," the Joker offered. I ran quickly to the bedroom and retrieved the razor. With the razor in one hand and some of his hair in my other hand, I tugged on the hair so it was tight. Quick and up down stroked of the blade, I cut into the hair. It parted from my hand and fell back into place. It was the perfect length! A surge of excitement spread through my body. I finished cutting the back of his head and then moved to the front.
"Giada, just keep that blade away from my face—I'm not so fond of…razors near my face unless they're in my own hand," he grimaced as I held the blade near his face. I rolled my eyes and took his hair in my hands and cut it. He closed his eyes tightly as I cut. His hair fell about his face in short waves, just below his cheek—probably his mid-face. The rest of his hair was just below his chin, closer to mid-neck—like it once was when we first met.
"Want me to add the green too?" I asked. The Joker hesitantly opened his eyes.
"You're done already?" he asked, afraid to look in the mirror.
"Yeah—no harm done. I promise. You look…like you," I observed happily. He sighed and closed his eyes again.
"I guess you can add the green too," he responded finally, "it's in the shower in a tube,"
"Yay!" I clapped my hands in excitement as I leaned over him to retrieve the tube of green dye/gel.
"What do I do? Rub it in my hands or sploodge it over your hair and then rub it in?" I asked. He opened his eyes and took the tube from my hand.
"It's not a dick—there's no rubbing and no sploodging involved—although, if you're up for that when we're done, I'd be more than happy to lend you my dick," he winked at me and flashed me a conning smile.
"Give me that!" I snapped as I snatched the tube from him and squeezed a handful of green gel into my hands. I rubbed my hands together and rubbed the gel into his hair. I squeezed a bit more into my hands and added the remaining amount to his hair. It was so perfect. He looked fantastic. I was suddenly so excited that I couldn't hold back my squeal of delight as he stood to his feet. He looked into the mirror and tilted and turned his head every which way until he finally nodded in approval.
"I'm so thrilled, Giada!" he grinned slightly and then licked his lips as he stared hard at me.
"I am too! I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself," I giggled. I was absolutely elated that my Joker was back—standing in front of me looking at me so intensely.
"It seems I'll be calling you every time I need my hair done, now," he said finally, walking towards me. I backed up for each step be took toward me until I was no longer in the bathroom, but flushed up against the wall of the dark living room. He kept walking towards me until he was inches from my face. He reached down with his gloved right hand and took the razor blade from my hand into his. I simply continued staring into his eyes that bore so intensely into my own. My heart beat quickened as I fully released the blade from my hand to his—a part of me thought that maybe he was about to carve my face. But another part of me thought that he would never do that to me. I was wrong.
He raised his arm and I instinctually grabbed forcefully onto his biceps—or more accurately, his overcoat. I squirmed in his firm hold of me as he continued lifting his arm, bringing the blade nearer and nearer to my face. Finally, with his other hand, he held my face between his fingers.
"Hold still," he instructed me as he took the blade closer…
He removed his hand from my face, looked down and grabbed a hold of the neck of my shirt. With one swift motion with the blade, I wasn't even able to tell what he had done. I waited for my face to feel immense pain and blood, but nothing happened. My eyes were tightly closed but soon opened when no sensation filled my body. I opened my eyes to see his face grinning back at me.
"You had a horrific thread sticking out of your shirt—it was driving me crazy!" he exclaimed with his hands. I looked down and noticed he had dropped the blade to the floor. When I looked back up at him again, his hands rushed to my face and he planted a kiss on my lips. When he pulled away finally, I was actually able to breathe again.
"I thought you were going to cut my face!" I gasped, placing my hand to my chest.
He laughed maniacally, "Me? Cut your face!? Giada! The thoughts you have should have landed you in Arkham by now!"
I slowly eased into laughing with him, "Yeah, I guess you're right—but I can never tell with you!"
"You're right—you can never tell with me," he said finally, no longer laughing and staring intently at me. I immediately ceased laughing, suddenly afraid again. He then burst out laughing again.
"Giada! You don't have a reason to ever fear me, like others do. I would never hurt you—I feel like you should know this by now. You know me better than that. I know you know me better than that—you're just letting your mind play…tricks…on you," he explained finally, "Don't do that—it makes me…sad…seeing you…fear me," The Joker then wrapped his arms about me and held me close to him. The familiar scent of peanut oil and potato chips filled my nose as I was engulfed in his arms. I loved the feeling of being pressed close to his firm body covered by the large purple overcoat.