Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, DC does.
Guest/ClownPrincessofCrime: Thank you so much for reviewing!
"Kid, kindly get me the blueprints."
It was a few hours later when the henchmen (more importantly, Larry) left. The Joker's scheming desk was set up, even though disorganized papers with crayon on them were scattered across the floor. Wearing fake narrow glasses, the man sat down in his chair. He hunched down enough to have his nose on his papers.
Bonnie stood a small distance away, dressed in her ringmaster costume. She didn't know what the Joker was planning, but this was probably not going to be the last time Bonnie would wear her outfit. Sooner or later, she might have to get involved in a heist. The Joker already began to train her, and the time it took to work with his hundreds of weapons was enough to tell her that something big was going to happen. If not, then Bonnie still didn't mind being cooped up in the hideout. Either way, she was working for him now.
But I never addressed the Joker by a name! she thought. I need to think of something formal! Maybe…oh, that's it.
"Yes, boss."
The Joker's face, which for one second radiated with focus and pride, broke like glass and replaced itself with a frozen expression. BOSS?
BOSS?
She was supposed to call him Daddy! It was essential to the plan!
The Joker gritted his teeth. The kid probably got 'the hench-girl' thought into her head by thinking that she owed him for...something! Larry, the oaf, probably put that in her head by mentioning it.
Ugh, Larry! The Joker should have gotten rid of him a long time ago; he was too soft. Now, Wist pushed himself into his own game!
It did make this game funnier, nevertheless. Wist turned himself into a player in the game, and the Joker always had the power to kick other players out whenever he wanted.
Bonnie handed out a rolled out blueprint to him. The Joker snatched it.
He didn't look at Bonnie, but he gave her a patronizing pat on her hat. The dazed girl nodded, holding back an shudder.
The Joker finally glimpsed at her. Bonnie's shoulders jumped, caught gazing down at his work for too long. She blinked downward.
She doesn't smile much, the Joker reminded himself. A smirk tugged at his lips.
The next day, Larry didn't see Bonnie at all. The man only heard light scurrying on the old floors, and thinly veiled, threatening cackles that bounced off the walls.
Maybe the boss really did kidnap the kid for the kicks, Larry thought. He certainly hoped not. Larry was curious about the child, for something about her didn't make sense. It bewildered him on why the boss would have a kid like her around. She seemed like a nice girl, but...
She practically reminded Larry of his son, too. He left, though. All of his family left.
The day after that, Clubs had to take a pile of aspirin from a migraine since it was the umpteenth time that Harley and the boss have been trying to kill each other. Well, maybe. Sometimes, the henchmen could never tell what they were doing. On that same day, the only sign of someone else in the warehouse was the Joker's constant calls of "RINGS!"
And the day after that, there was a new dead silence. Appropriately, a growl rumbled from the stormy darkness outside.
"Lar, you need to give up," Rocco said. "Move on. The girl's dead by now. You're starting to freak me out with this obsession of yours."
"Give up what? And what do you mean I'm starting to freak you out?"
Rocco rubbed his temple. "Sometimes I think you do this on purpose."
The greasy-haired Ace made a circle with his shoulders. He raised his pointer in the air. "He's right, Wist. The boss—"
The lights above blinked. The door flew open, banging into the wall.
"In case you're wondering, you'll help Daddy with work sooner than later, 'kay, firecracker?" a familiar falsetto voice chimed. It could only be heard by those closest to the door.
The owner of the voice popped out from hiding, but he could only be seen in silhouette form. He observed a top hat that he was holding in his hand.
"Roc, Ace, Clubs, we're leaving. Now. And Roc, be a saint, and wake Clubs up."
"It's okay, b-boss, I'm awake!"
"Good. Kenny, Spades, Larry, baby-sit the kid when I'm gone. Yes, Kenny, she can leave the room at any given time."
Kenny put his hand down.
The lights flickered again. A meek person magically appeared next to the boss. Unexpectedly seconds after that sight, the room was black. The 'living room' next door possessed a dim blue glow.
"Bon, be a doll, and light a match or two." The boss' command was abnormally monotone and syrupy.
With a flick on the box, two matches were lit in front of the masked girl's face. Bonnie weakly sucked her lips in as she handed the matches over the boss. Only his stark smile was visible.
"And, as a reminder, be nice," he said. "Come along, boys."
Clubs and Ace tripped upon leaving the room. Rocco just snorted as he walked out, and the Joker gave a final wave to the others before the door shut.
Now that they were alone, Bonnie couldn't help but freak out a little inside. Even with Larry there, she didn't know what the other two would pull when she couldn't see! Even with Larry, she only knew him for a few minutes! Maybe he wasn't as nice as she thought he was!
Still, Bonnie still had to ask him about the rules, even with the other people around. She hoped that they weren't near her.
As if on cue, another person knocked into her. Bonnie jumped, unconsciously touching her right pocket.
"Watch it!" the man barked. Bonnie recoiled, but she didn't step back. She'd crash into someone else!
She shrank. "S-sorry."
A nasally voice, which wasn't as close by, inquired, "Wist, is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me," a familiar voice murmured in the dark. "Okay, you can stop touching my face."
"Where's Kenny?"
"I'm RIGHT HERE!"
"We don't know what 'right here' means, Brent."
"Then track my voice down!"
"Ahem, where's the kid?"
"I'm with…oh, sorry, um…"
"KENNY! BRENT!"
"Oh."
"You have your matches, don't you?"
"Me? Yes. I-I could open the door."
"What? I wasted my voice just to be near the door? …Move. I'm out. Tell the boss I left early. Adios, boys!"
Bonnie gave out a small squeak when Kenny pushed her away. Light flooded into the room as he opened the door.
Spades snorted. "Pfft, drama que—"
"SHUT UP!"
"—You can't leave, the boss—" Kenny banged his foot on the ground.
"I don't care what the boss says! My wife's WORSE!" he squawked, shuffling towards the warehouse doors. The other men just snickered as he fumbled around.
After the longest time of falling and limping, Kenny pulled the handle on the doors. It didn't budge.
"Do you have the keys to get back in?"
"Uh…" Kenny shook his head. "You don't need keys."
Spades huffed, "Yes, you do. The boss has 'em. Which means that they're not here. You'll be locked from the outside. Which means that unless the girl is nice enough to let you back in, then you're stuck out there in the rainstorm. For hours. Which means that you will be wet. For hours. Plus, the wind will blow your wig off."
Larry covered his mouth, trying to hold his laughter back. That only made him sound like a dying cow.
Fuming, Kenny stretched the hat that lay on his head.
He puffed, "Oh, I know what you mean! But…my car is still here."
Speaking in a stage whisper, Spades nudged Larry. "I bet the boss took it."
Kenny froze. "No, he didn't."
"I don't know, Ken, you looked very eager to leave for the past couple of days," Spades said. "The boss probably stole your car to hit a nerve. Besides, he said a couple of weeks ago that he was gonna hold this mechanic hostage to fix his old one."
"I don't remember the boss saying that."
Spades cackled, "Do I look like I'm lying?"
Just to tick Kenny off, he shrank down to Bonnie's size and gave him an innocent bat of the eyes. Larry just kept laughing and laughing as Kenny' eyes turned red.
"OH, I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S LYING!"
Kenny immediately charged at him, yelling some sort of battle cry. Spades rolled his eyes, but he bent down to get ready for Brent to fight him. Bonnie couldn't see anything that happened after that, since Larry covered her innocent eyes from the fight.
She sighed.
"It's okay," Bonnie whispered, with a hint of bite.
No, it's not okay, she thought. He's acting like Beatrice right now!
Luckily, he let go.
"Whatever you say."
The fight was just like she expected. Punches, kicks, pinning, bickering…the what-not.
After a few seconds, Bonnie saw enough. She lit a couple of matches, and she quietly closed the door in front of her.
"You said you wanted to know the rules?" said Larry.
Bonnie nodded, but nodding looked like a chore for her. She was massaging her throat with her free hand, and it looked like the smoke from the matches was going down her windpipe.
Larry glanced at the matchbox. What was she doing with matches anyway? The boss could've given them to her, but that just seemed too weird. Out of all of the crazy things he could give her, why would he decide to give her matches?
Bonnie didn't seem to pay attention to the confused look on his face. She was too busy not trying to inhale too much of the smoke. Tears poked out of her eyes when the mist went into them.
"Are you okay?"
Bonnie snapped up. Larry was giving her this small look of concern, as if he expected her to answer. Bonnie looked away.
What's wrong? she thought. This always happens. Why can't we talk about the rules now instead?
Shaking her head, Bonnie's free hand then dug into her right pocket. In her hand was a tiny mechanical pencil and crumpled paper that looked like it came from the last pages of a book. She forgot her glasses, but Bonnie's sight was good enough, she supposed.
"I could write it down," Larry said. Bonnie tilted her head.
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Of course," he answered, smiling.
Warily, Bonnie gave him the pencil and paper. Bonnie hoped that he wasn't lying when he said that he would jot everything down, but she promised herself that she would try to remember all of the rules by ear.
"So…number one," Larry breathed. "Stay under the radar. Henchmen who are eager to please the boss last for a week. They always get on the boss' nerves, and they always lose their heads. Literally. You know, unless your name is Harley Quinn. Even then, she gets thrown around a lot. It would be kind of stupid to get the boss to pay attention to you when the boss knows all of us, anyway. You'll go far if you're a quiet, unassuming worker."
Bonnie nodded.
"Which brings me to number two: don't question the boss' plans," Larry said. "If you do that even once, you'll immediately get on the wrong foot with him. It doesn't matter whether there's is a flaw in a plan or not. You just have to the think that he's 'always right'."
Larry tried to keep the opinionated tone in his voice down to a minimum, but it was no use.
"Rule three: always do what the boss tells you to do. It's obvious, but some of the guys forget to do that. If you are stuck with anyone like that, then carry out what the boss wants by yourself. Worst case scenario, if he is about to blame you for something…"
Bonnie's eyes widened. Larry realized what to come up for this one.
Oh, what do I say for this? he thought. Come on!
"Then…" Something clicked in Larry's head. "Then it's always best to say it's your fault and NOT lie. If that doesn't work, see rule one. "
Bonnie mentally shook her head. That was like telling someone to say their prayers.
"Er…rule four. Always keep your dignity in check. The boss doesn't like people who act weak. If the boss is really angry at you at one point, then don't freak out or beg. You might still be able to work."
A flicker of understanding shined in Bonnie's eyes before Larry wrote the other rule down.
Larry continued, "Let's see…rule five. This probably doesn't apply to you, but what do you think of Harley?"
Bonnie tapped her matchbox on her chin.
"I think she's nice. Why?" murmured Bonnie. She then recalled that there were times that Harley could have been as dangerous as the Joker. Could that have meant that she had control over the henchmen too?
Wait...why is he asking me what I think of Harley? thought Bonnie. Does he expect me to say that she's nice? Can that mean she's...pretending to be?
Bonnie's heart beat once. She's been played for a fool this entire time! Harley must've hated her! After all, she always acted a little different around her. What if that's because Harley's trying to butter her up after what Bonnie pulled at the orphanage? What then?
"Okay...you have nothing to worry about," said Larry, apparently noticing the wariness on Bonnie's face. "Just don't set Harley off. Around us, she has a…big heart, but…mess with Harley, and you mess with the boss. If you see the others...say bad things about her, don't do anything. The boss has that covered," Larry noted the bewildered look on Bonnie's face. "Basically…oh, never mind. Forget everything I said there."
Bonnie didn't.
"Number six—or the real rule number five—or, ugh, don't underestimate ANYONE," Larry went on. "Heroes, sidekicks, other vigilantes, other criminals, police, bystanders, what have you—just assume that all of our enemies are equal. Don't ever go soft, and don't laugh or gloat at them, either, because arrogance is a game changer. Or, really, a breaker."
As if on cue, Larry heard a bone crack from one of the guys outside. He was trying to write stuff down, but he couldn't help but wince.
"Um...rule seven: don't seriously injure or try to kill any of the boss' rivals, unless he sincerely tells you to do so. The boss likes to off his enemies on his own, and he doesn't want anyone to steal the glory from him."
Wait, 'sincerely' tells you to? thought Bonnie. How do you know whether he's telling you to 'sincerely' do something? He could be lying!
"Rule eight: if you happen to get caught by the police, then do what ever it takes to get you out of a high-security juvie sentence. Feign insanity, trauma, innocence, anything. Go for Arkham instead; I've heard it's very escapable. Kids there are rare, but you could still get in. You just have to deal with the doctors and the patients. Harley or the boss know more about it than I do."
Bonnie hoped that he was right that she could get into Arkham. Well, the logical explanation of how she could get in was pretty simple. Gotham was Gotham, after all. Anything could happen. But...
The asylum? Isn't that worse than the prison? Or is it the other way around? Bonnie pondered as she prepared two more matches to replace the barely lit ones. She intensely gazed at them.
"Number nine: don't make the guys angry. Ten..."
9 went quick there, Bonnie thought. Self-explanatory?
"When the boss wants to talk to you privately, gather up all of your wits and common sense. Say what's right at the moment. Be on guard. He probably wants to tell you a joke, and his jokes don't end well," Larry said. "And finally, rule number eleven: we are henchmen because we all have a type of skill. The one that most henchmen use is brute muscle. But guess what?"
Bonnie's skin grew tight on her. She didn't have brute strength. She didn't have any of that!
"It's very smart to have hidden talents in use. Many people won't see it coming, and this can be used as an advantage. So, I bet you have one."
The girl restrained herself from gulping. Larry looked at her, noticing how quickly her cheeks were turning red.
The man mentally slapped himself. For a second, he thought this one would have boosted her hopes! Instead, he just made her panic more! Now the girl's gonna think she'll die on the job. He really made a big mistake this time!
Yet, much to his surprise, relief, and slowly building unease, the girl examined the flaming matches. She put the box down on her lap, and she pointed at them.
"You play with matches?" Larry asked awkwardly.
The girl looked up, but she didn't answer the question.
Instead, she slightly changed the subject. "I can hide, a bit."
She was hiding more than that. There was a strange churn in Larry's stomach. "That's good. How old are you, again?"
"Twelve."
Even though this girl was no one to fear, Larry's stomach flopped.
Who was this girl?
He promptly stood up. "Okay, I'm going to check on the guys. Here is the list, and you're welcome."
With a flick of his hand, Larry gave her the paper and strode off. Bonnie lost her grip on the matches and fumbled to catch them and the paper, before she looked up in surprise.
Why did he leave? Bonnie thought. Was it something I said?
In the room where Spades and Kenny lay battered and unconscious, Larry's eyes were clouded, trying to figure out why the girl was really there.
Larry tried thinking back to their first conversation. He knew that she definitely wasn't a ransom case, and she's been alive too long to just be a play thing that gets tortured by the boss, physically and emotionally. Unless the boss liked her like—
Vomit crawled up Larry's throat. No, that kind of idea was too repulsive. The boss was sick, but he wasn't that sick!
Larry shook his head. Maybe the boss didn't...like her—Larry shivered at that thought again—but maybe he underestimated Rocco's words more than he thought. Of course he realized that the boss is trying to...change the girl, but why she was taken to be 'changed' in particular was a glaring question to him. Granted, Larry had just realized that there was something off about the girl, but why would have the boss been interested in a girl that liked matches too much? How did the boss even find out about the kid, anyway? And why did the kid look so unfazed by all of the fighting between the guys and...well, the Joker? The things Bonnie has seen for the past few days would have sent people straight to therapy...
Oh, why was he thinking about this? These kind of questions were destroying his mind.
Sooner or later, her mind would be getting destroyed.
Larry sighed, rubbing his temples. He should've told the kid to stay sane as a rule.
Spades stirred.
"Larry?" he whined. "Help me up."
Larry slumped. Spades needed help just like he needed a drink, so he did what he said. Besides, Larry helped the kid, too. But now, he mused, he had a feeling he made things worse.
A/N: I don't know why, but Larry seems like the type of character that the viewers would like or would...not. What do you think of him? Can you sympathize with him, or are you annoyed with him? Is Bonnie starting to get grating? What do you guys think?