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Some part of me knew I was dreaming. The dream was a rehashing of the night prior as we fought a few men we'd caught breaking into a car. Our original goal of the evening was to stake out a few of The Joker's old haunts for any signs of him, though we hadn't been in The Narrows more than a few minutes before we saw the idiots try to smash in a car window.

The fight was an easy one. Blake and I split the group in half. I was working on my two guys, easily dodging between fists, when I felt a sudden shift. I looked up instinctively to see a tall form glaring down at me from a rooftop. It was the shape of man silhouetted against the hazy night, at least a hundred feet up off the ground.

I caught only the briefest glimpse of him before a hand closed around my throat and began to back me up. My back crashed into the wall surprisingly hard considering my attacker's small stature. The pain helped me refocus on the immediate danger at hand. My knee launched into the man's crotch before I swiftly brought up my elbow under the man's extended arm. His arm bowed inward unnaturally and a satisfying snap could be heard. The man twisted away from me and fell, screaming, onto his ass as he clutched his broken arm.

I surged toward the shocked face of my other assailant and snapped my baton into his gut before electrocuting him. As the assailant fell away from me, I peered back up towards the form on the rooftop to see the man seated now on the edge of the building, legs swinging playfully. The head tilted inquisitively as I looked up and a long hand floated up. The man wiggled his fingers at me and my gut sunk to the ground.

"He's here," I said to Blake, pointing up. Blake was just finishing up with his last attacker when he looked up at the sound of my voice.

"Behind you!" Blake cried, eyes widening. He zipped toward me and slipped an arm around my waist before I could react, pitching me to the side as a knife sliced through the space in which I was just standing.

Blake made quick work of the man who'd tried to stab me, the attacker whose arm I all-but snapped in half. By the time we'd looked back up towards the rooftop, the man was gone. We searched the building he was on top of to no avail.

Had I imagined him? The Joker? Watching me? The Joker… The Joker…

With a sudden jolt, I remembered. I woke with a sharp gasp and tried to sit up just as my eyes opened to an overcast black sky. I found myself weighed down somehow. I looked down to see that I was lying on my back on a bench. I couldn't see my arms, but could feel that they were bound together from the wrist to the elbow behind me, contorting my shoulders uncomfortably. Upon further inspection, my feet, too, were bound together at the ankle with thin metal chains.

The left side of my face pounded and throbbed painfully and I tasted blood. I growled in frustration as I began pull violently against my bonds, still only half-unconscious.

I was pitched forward suddenly. I hadn't realized until that moment that the surface I was on was mobile until the momentum abruptly stopped. I was tossed forward and onto the damp and cold boat floor. My left rib cage impacted the floor and shoved the air from my lungs rather unceremoniously. I wheezed, coughing loudly as I struggled to force oxygen back into me.

As I began to recover after a few precious gulping breaths. I looked up to see a tear-obstructed painted face sneering down at me.

It's him!

I gasped again and struggled onto my back, trying to move away from him using my bound legs without much success. I managed to shove myself into the corner of the boat, but I was still easily within arm's reach of him. The Joker was seated on an adjacent bench, fingers bridged together between his knees. As the tears cleared from my eyes, I could see his gaze was filled with mirth at my struggle.

Still foggy and not thinking straight, I hissed as angrily as I could, "Get away from me."

"Not the brave face I expected from Batwoman. How did my lovely Rory say it, 'You're really her, aren't you? Batwoman!'" he emphasized the awe in her tone from our conversation earlier mockingly, spreading his arms wide and looking up at the sky. His gaze snapped back to me suddenly and gave a little chuckle, tilting an eyebrow. There was a distinct cheeriness to him which I had never seen before. It was as if he was excited to see an old friend again. My stomach sank at the thought. "If only she could see you now – cowering like a scared little puppy. Now, that's funny."

I steeled myself, more awake now than before. I looked down to see that I was still in my full uniform and I could feel the cowl still perched on my head dutifully, though he had apparently removed my goggles. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right – I was giving too much of myself away. With my outfit still on, I still had an identity to protect and there was no reason why Batwoman would react to him so strongly. If he found out who I was, it was all over.

Why didn't he remove my cowl? How long was I out? Did Blake save the girls already or did he get blown up with the bomb? I wondered, but didn't dare ask aloud. I wondered if he had completely destroyed my ear piece when he kicked me.

The boat buoyed hard against a wave and I was quite surprised to find that we were stopped in the middle of the Gotham harbor, at least a mile away from the shore in any direction. The engine was still, the only sound the water breaking against the small boat. Fuck, how is anyone going to get to us? I pondered my chances of breaking out of my bonds and commandeering the boat as I pulled against the chains again.

"I wouldn't bank on being able to wriggle out, though I would certainly enjoy watching you try. I've tied up quite a few redheads in my day. I've got a thing for them," his gaze slipped down over my struggling form and I remembered how much he loved to watch his victims squirm. I forced myself to stop moving – it was doing absolutely no good anyways except for riling up the mad dog.

"What do you want? Did you make the call to save the girl?" I tried to demand. He flicked a smile up at me, humored by my attempt to redirect him.

"Wanna know why I have a thing for redheads?"

"Not really."

He sucked his teeth and pushed his hair back, just as he had in the clip I'd watched countless times. He was wearing a plain lavender button-down and a tightly buttoned green vest, no tie. It looked like his new muscles had him growing out of his old clothes. Maybe that's why he's not wearing the big purple coat. In that moment, I almost missed it because it would have hid his muscles that mocked me with their newfound readiness to torment me. His makeup gave his face a mask-like appearance in the dim moonlight. His hair was a dusky brown instead of his usual poorly-dyed green and I supposed he was having too much fun stalking Blake and I to make it to the salon.

His fingers slipped into his pocket and slowly pulled out a small pocket knife, eyes searing into mine. He flicked it open and I instantly recognized it as the knife that once found a home in my calf, the same knife he'd used to slice open my belly as he raped me.

He was attempting to look nonchalant while also absorbing every bit of my reaction to the knife. I felt my heart pound against my chest at the sight of the weapon, which held great and dreadful meaning to me.

But not to Batwoman. I kept my face still as if etched in stone. If he finds out your identity, then he'll know Blake's identity.

He ran a bare finger along the dull edge of the knife reverently, gaze finally deviating from me after a charged moment. He stared into the freshly-polished silver blade as if there was scripture etched on it, "This… is my favorite knife. I've missed it so, being all locked up like an animal. Would you like to know why it's my favorite, Little Red?"

"Not particularly."

"Well, I'm gunna tell you anyways, sweet thing, that you're gunna listen very intently because the longer I talk and I'm not maiming you or someone else, the longer Batman has to come and save ya. Capeesh?"

I eyed him with confusion, anxiety stirring. Does he know about the trackers? If he does, he can use them against Blake. I had no choice but to listen and fight to keep my emotions from playing out across my face.

"You see, there was this pesky… little… lady," he looked from the knife back up to me, gaze dipping down to my lips again and I wondered if my scar was still masked by my lipstick, "A beautiful, blushing redhead who looked a lot… like… yourself-fah," he sneered back up to me suddenly, gauging my reaction as he insinuated his suspicions. Oh, god. Trying to be as subtle as I could, I began to pull again at my wrist restraints as he continued. I have to try to escape, I don't like where his train of thought is going... "This woman was everything I love to hate – blind heroics and a bad temper. It was so much fun and so easy to make her suffer. Her little screams and the way she put in every ounce of her strength when he pushed against me," he bit his lip and dragged his hand through his hair again before sighing. He smiled back up at me with a self-deprecating look and seemed genuinely earnest for a moment, "I couldn't get enough of catching her in my little traps, just so I could see her try to wriggle out of them. Hey! Kinda like you, right now, still trying to get out of those chains!" he mocked and, before I could brace myself, he pushed off from his seat and plopped down next to me on the floor.

My limbs itched to try to wiggle away from him. I refused my every instinct and glued myself still though I knew my resolve to remain still was a resource growing more finite by the moment. I cringed to note the looseness to his limbs as he splayed his long legs out next to mine. He was completely unbidden, sure that I was helpless to him. I hated to admit that he was right. He paused for a moment, considering my reaction (or lack thereof). I could feel his gaze burning into the left side of my face, but I refused to meet his gaze, sure that this would tip me over the edge.

Suddenly, he hooked a strong arm around under my right armpit and hoisted me into a semi-seated position with my head against his right shoulder. I couldn't help but react to his sudden closeness and attempted to twist away from him jerkily.

"Don't touch me."

"Ooooh, no, you don't," he tutted laughingly. He moved his arm from around my shoulder to around my neck threateningly. He didn't tighten his hold and I could still breathe easily, but I could feel the pulse in my throat bang against the skin of his forearm and I knew he could feel every racing heartbeat. He forced my head to rest against his right shoulder and I cringed in reaction to the mocking intimacy of the embrace. I could feel of his ribs rub against mine was he breathed excited breath into my hair. His hair tickled the bit of my cheek exposed by my cowl. He was just so fucking close, smothering me, intimidating me, and there was nothing I could do about it with my limbs bound. I very nearly lost it as I felt hysterics build in my chest.

"Nervous, Little Red?" he mocked in my ear. I made myself still again, my breath ragged, trying to keep my reaction reasonable to what Batwoman would do – not Blaze. I fought mentally to squash the rising panic in favor for the calm that I knew Batwoman would feel in the face of just another thug trying to intimidate her. I forced myself to take deep breaths as I stared up at the roiling clouds.

"Good girl," he teased, urging on my façade as he felt my pulse slow down marginally, slipping his arm away from my throat and back around my shoulders again. "So easily riled up with the slightest touch," he chuckled. His other hand, the one that held the knife, surged up towards my face and began to pet my neck with the cold, dull side of the blade, "As if I need your permission to touch you," he whispered quietly with a smile in his voice into my left ear.

"You're disgusting." I gulped back against tears.

"Mmm, maybe so, but I'll bet this disgusting man I could have your knees quivering and you screaming my name so loud your little Bat Boy could hear it from the shore. Whaddya think, Little Red? Should we try or should I get on with the rest of my story?"

"Go on," I growled insolently between deep breaths.

"Such a good girl," he murmured again appreciatively, his thumb sliding lightly up and down my arm as he spoke. Goosebumps rose in his thumb's wake and I imagined the sound it would make if I broke that thumb, "So, where was I? Oh! Yes! So, the redhead and I reached that big moment in all relationships where you finally take the plunge… and this stupid little hero had the nerve to try to kill me with a shard of broken glass," he uses his right hand to turn my chin to look at him. He stretches his shirt collar a bit so I can see a thin scar on the right side of his neck. That's it? I think disappointedly. After all the scars he gave me, mental and physical, that's all that I left on him? "I mean, how rude is that? I wasn't even close to done fucking her!"

I shook my chin free from his grip and had to look away, lest he would see the tears forming in my eyes.

"And do you know why she was so stupid for doing that, Bat Babe?"

Silence.

"Because she should have known that a girl like her could not have killed a man like me and that any attempt to would have just prolonged her suffering. If she would have just lied down and took it like a champ until I got bored… she would be resting now somewhere here in the Gotham harbor…" he gestured with the knife to the churning black water around us. His right hand began to stroke my cheek absentmindedly, as he trailed off, "But instead, she made that choice and may as well have drawn a big target on her forehead for Joker's Number One Enemy…"

"Say!" he shouted sharply, making me jump, "You wouldn't happen to know where a guy could find that pesky gal, would ya?"

"No."

He cackled loudly, once, right in my ear. His hand moved to cup my chin again and steer my face to look up at him. His voice was low, conspiratory, as he looked down at me with humor-filled eyes, "No? No?! Well, that makes sense, I guess, because if she was smart and not as stupid as I think she is, she would have left Gotham the second she pulled that glass from my neck! And, if not then, you would have thought she would have skipped town the second she knew I was on the loose because she would have known that I'd come for her. Yeah... she would have never chased me down herself instead of letting me come for her. That would just be too easy for me, you know? And she certainly would not have gotten wrapped up with my favorite costumed lunatic Batman, would she? Because that would put her even more in my crosshairs than she already is! No, that would be very, very stupid of her, wouldn't it-tah? So, I guess it makes sense that you don't know where she is, then, right?" He paralyzes me with a self-satisfied smirk.

He knows.

Or he's bluffing to see if you'll break down and admit it.

Then why wouldn't he just take off your mask and get it over with?

Because he wants to hear you say it. He wants to watch you squirm, like he always has.

But he's right – I can see how clearly and directly I have inadvertently made myself into a perfect target for him. Dread consumes me in waves that threaten to drown me as I process my existence from his perspective. But he's not done torturing me yet.

"You know, the night that I escaped from that little funhouse, I just so-happened to see something interesting, a little lead regarding my search, in an alley… in the Narrows. When I went to investigate, I was shocked to see a woman. A small little thing, no bigger than a thimble, with the most beautiful long red flowy hair. Wouldn't ya know it, I wasn't the only guy who noticed that beautiful hair. Two guys were chasing her and those bastards looked like they were getting ready to do something unsavory to her… But, before I could intervene and rescue this little sweetheart, the girl turned around and went all Kung Fu on 'em! She left those two big men bleeding behind a dumpster and she was so cocky about it, too. She was smiling while she did it. I can't say I'm sure, but she looked an awful lot like the gal I'm looking for. Are ya sure ya didn't teach her some lady's kick boxing or something? She looked like this wasn't just a one-off thing for her. She looked like she was having the time of her life, like she beats the shit out of people every… night… hey! Kinda like you! You must be her idol or something, huh?"

Fuck. That's twice now he was watching me without my knowledge. I'm not as good as I think...

He laughed loudly, still gripping my chin, tapping his feet excitedly against the floor like an excited child. He pulled me sharply even closer to him as if sharing a deep secret with me. I could feel his stinking breath wash across my face as he conspired, "Are you sure you don't know where she is? Her fighting style looked a whole lot like yours earlier tonight. Oh, hey, and the fella she was with that night looked and fought an awful lot like your Batman, too! Fancy that!"

Double fuck.

"Enough!" I wretched my face away from him and glared mutinously. To my surprise, he let me scuffle out from under his arm and fall against the opposite side of the boat, though we were still so dreadfully close to one another, "I have no idea who you're talking about! Bring me back to shore now and let me go – I'm sure Batman is already on his way to save me and you better be long gone before he gets here."

His chin was tilted down, eyes piercing me from beneath his brows. Any semblance of lightness was shed from him in that moment, animal aggression in its place. He studied my shaken form as I couldn't help but struggle against the bonds once more. His eyes came back up to mine and his gaze was that of a wolf watching a bunny struggle in a trap. He smiled cruelly, showing me his teeth, and began to hunch forward. He seemed to be reading my thought as he began crawling towards my feverishly struggling form not unlike a wolf as he spoke, "Even now, you remind me so much of her. She was always waiting for her white knight to come and save her from me. Little did either one of us know that she was not meant to be saved from me – she was meant to be molded by me into my perfect hero until I was ready to squash her back down. Neither of us knew that I wasn't just breaking her down – I was building my perfect little plaything," he growled suddenly and surged forward, slamming himself down onto my writhing waist, pinning down what little freedom of movement I had left.

What I meant to come out as a command came out as a pathetic shriek, "No! Get off me! I don't know who you're talking about! I'm not her!"

"Oh, really?" he laughed, unbidden again, face closing in on mine. No! I twisted any way I could to avoid him as I thought he was leaning forward to kiss me. I was sure that the second he kissed me, he would fly into a frenzy and rip me to shreds like a beast after their first taste of blood. Instead of kissing me, though, he trapped my chin between his fingers and forced me to face him.

"No!" I grunted in frustration, fighting as hard as I could against my bonds for the millionth time to no avail. His forehead rested against my cowl suddenly and I didn't dare struggle then because it would only serve to close the too-small distance between our mouths. He whispered, lips inches from mine, "Then why are you reacting to me like this if you're not my Blaze? I haven't even done anything to you yet and you're like a scared squirmy mess just over a little cuddle."

"I'm not her! I just don't like being touched by disgusting perverts!" I screamed right in his face, trying to buck him off, tears threatening to spill as I felt myself completely at his mercy as I thought never would be again.

His face pulled away from mine slightly and I took the opportunity to crack my forehead as hard as I could into his nose.

"Oooo!" he cooed appreciatively, pulling himself up into a seated position after his head snapped back from the hit. I nearly began crying in relief that his lips were further from mine as he smeared his own blood down his sleeve wiping his blood nose. "Impressive that you can still land some hits when you're all tied up like a hog ready for slaughter! Are you sure you're not my Blaze?" He placed a hand on either side of my head and looked straight down at me again, a genuine smile on his lips. He didn't seem upset about the hit as a normal man would. Instead, he seemed excited by it. More blood began to run in a stream down his upper lip and my stomach twisted at the thought that his blood might drip onto me.

"I'm not her, okay?! Now get the fuck off me!"

"You're not even trying anymore! That's exactly what she would say," he giggled, "If this is how you react to just some sweet nothings, I wonder how you'd react to something really hot and heavy…"

His fingers trailed down my neck and cupped my throat. I began to struggle again. He gave a hard warning squeeze in response, a mad light in his eyes, and laughed when I coughed my recovery. He was truly light and genuinely enjoying himself again as he tormented me.

"Oh, Little Red… watching you hunt for me in that dark shack made me stir just like watching her made me stir," his fingers found the zipper at the front of my suit and began to slowly slide it down as I watched in horror, "I thought about wrapping that long red hair around my fist and ripping a hole in that catsuit of yours to make you mine again and again and again, right in front of your little pathetic Bat Boy."

"Get OFF ME!" I roared, giving one big buck and effectively shoving him to my right. I gulped in air thankfully and began wiggling away from him, only to have his right leg clamp down over my legs and immobilize my bottom half. His other arm hooked again around the back of my neck and pinned my shoulders in place easily. We were intertwined again, his body curled into my right side in another mockingly intimate pose.

"Stop!" I screamed hysterically as I was somehow even more immobilized now than when he was seated on top of me.

"You're right, you're right," he cackled, delighted by my distress, "How am I supposed to reach down here if I'm on top of you?" his fingers ghosted over my sex through my suit.

"No!" I screamed, tears finally falling. His fingers began kneading me lightly.

"You know," he grunted as I shoved my shoulder hard into him as I tried my damndest to move my bottom half away from his hands somehow, "If you could just find it in you to stay calm and not react when I push your buttons, I probably wouldn't find it so fun," he giggled as I continued to struggle for all I was worth, past logic at this point. I was grunting and shrieking like a mad woman as I thrashed around as best I could in the tight space. His ministrations were interrupted when I managed to slide my hips slightly to the left away from his fingers. At this, I felt a growl build in his chest. His left arm wrapped around my neck to even further immobilize me, pulling my back half on top of his torso. He was cutting off my oxygen now as his fingers found their goal again between my thighs through my suit.

Every inch more I fought him, his arm tightened that much more around my windpipe. I fought regardless, completely aware that, if I lost consciousness, he probably would stop his assault because it wouldn't be as 'fun.'

His fingers began to press more insistently before he suddenly ripped them away. Relief hadn't even set in before his hand found its way beneath my unzipped suit towards my groin. I mewled as loud as I could around the obstacle of his arm around my neck. He placed an almost tender kiss on my cheek as I continued to fight as much as I could. He parted my labia and began circling my clitoris with slow motions with his fingers. His erection jabbed into my lower back and I could feel his chest shift as he buried his face in my hair and exhaled slowly.

"Blaze, let me be the one to remind you, as you seem to have forgotten," his slipped a finger into me as his arm tightened even further around my neck. My vision began to dot black, like burned-through movie film. "You…" he thrust his fingers into me deeply before withdrawing them, "belong…" another thrust in, this time his thumb circling my clitoris, his voice was beginning to sound far away, "to me and you have since I first laid eyes on you at the bank. And isn't that just too bad for you?"

I tried to answer, but my muscles were giving up as the oxygen was leaving my tissues.