Quick note before the chapter begins, I'm basing Selina off Eartha Kitt's portrayal of Catwoman. I used to own the old Batman T.V. series and she is, hands down, my favorite Catwoman. She has the poise, sass, and charisma for the character. Plus.. you know... Santa Baby.
Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. The Rouges will play, on Christmas Day, and the Chef will get away...
Christmas Eve, 9 AM...
It wasn't often that The Joker asked for help. He never seemed to follow a true plan and played mostly by ear, so it came as a shock to Oswald Cobblepot when his burner phone rang. As soon as he answered he could nearly her the smile on Joker's face.
"Ozzy! Hey friend, how ya' been? All good in that white hat of yours?" Cobblepot frowned at the name.
"Joker, I've been well, the legal life seems to suit me well enough." Cobblepot turned to star at his prized fish tank, he precious children swimming elegantly along. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh everything's hunky Dory!" The Joker's laugh nearly split Cobblepot's eardrum, he had to pull the phone away. "I'm a little snugger around the middle, but Harley seems to like the cuddle chunk."
"Well I'm glad you and Ms. Quinn are well. Why are you calling?" The Joker's once light tone took a more serious turn.
"I'm calling in a favor you owe me." Cobblepots frown deepened further.
"We're square Joker. Any favors I owed you were payed in kind." It worried the man, when the Joker chuckled.
"See, that's where your wrong. See there's this nice little place I like to frequent, real homey little diner I like," The Joker, on the other end of the line frowned. "And I heard you were causing trouble. Calling phony reports of rats, bothering my friend." Cobblepot knew that Blue Jay would come to haunt him.
"That was before I knew it was your territory, Joker. I've stepped aside."
"Yeah, but you still crossed the boundary lines. We've got rules for that."
"I'm not in the Gallery anymore." More laughter, mocking this time.
"Yeah, and Batman can take a joke. You may have a liquor license, but I know about your smuggling ring." Cobblepot cursed loudly. "Yeeeaahh, I found one of your dockworkers. Don't worry, he's dead. No one likes a snitch."
"What do you want for reparation?"
"Well here's my idea..."
The Gotham Christmas Parade could go die in a fire. Alexandera didn't follow the news, and didn't know the parade route went right by her diner. That meant there were hundreds of people blocking her doorway, and none of them were interested in the food she would be selling. Only the cartoony floats and bands. As it stood only three people were in her lobby, and she paid them to be there.
"Boys," They turned. "Go home. I'll call you later for your schedule." Gary and Kyle didn't need to be told twice, because while they may like working for Lady Boss, no one turned down a day off. Marcus was the only one who stayed behind.
"You good, Boss?" Alexandera slid on her new hat, the one Jervis had given her. "I'm sure after the parade leaves, we'll get business."
"Nah, I'd need you here for that crowd, and I'm sure Cassie wants to spend time with you." The Chef noticed the fond grin Marcus gave at his daughters name. "It's Christmas Eve, go do your domestic shit elsewhere." When Marcus left Alexandera locked the front door, she wasn't stupid enough to leave that way, it was too crowded. Shrugging on her patchwork coat and lugging her worn messenger bag around her neck, she made her way to her back door. Setting her alarm she braved her way into the cold of the back ally, there was no sunlight, so the temperature was colder than she anticipated. Closing the door, she was suddenly accosted on both sides.
"Target Acquired, Ginger Bread!"
"Harley, I'm not using code names."
"Aww come on, Red. It's Sugar Lumps!" The clown whined, sad her cover had been blown.
"What are you doing?" Alexandera didn't bother to shake their hold of her arms, it was better to go along with whatever they had planned.
"Well, Target, we're here ta kidnap ya!" Harley grinned, jumping in place. "Don't make me get the knockout juice!" Alexandera looked to Ivy for some support.
"Ya'll could of just asked. Not like I can say no."
"Awww, Sunshine, you make it sound like we're bad guys." Alexandera cocked a brow.
"You are to the assholes blocking my shop." Ivy shivered, which caught the Chef's attention. "Don't take this the wrong way, but shouldn't you be in a greenhouse or something?" Harley snorted, trying not to laugh as Ivy leveled a glare at the Chef.
"I'm just fine."
"I meant for your plants, it's colder than a witch's tit." Alexandera tilted her head. "I don't think a greenhouse is gonna fix your lack of winter wear." Indeed, the infamous Poison Ivy was in little more than her usual attire. Mother Nature sighed, questioning how Harley always seemed to wrangle her into these predicaments. She had no ill will towards the chef, but she had no great feelings either, she was probably the only true neutral party in Joker's newest game.
"My children are just fine. I'd be more worried for yourself." Alexandera's eyes widen.
"Am I getting pulled into a plot? I'll feed ya'll, but I ain't joining in on your shit." It was vehement, as Alexandera was dragged to a rusted busted hatchback with it's tinted windows rolled up. "That better have heating." Harley snorted, pulling keys from her pocket.
"Sunshine yer tough, but ya ain't got the heart for villainy." The Chef was pushed into the back seat of the car, it was surprisingly cleaner on the inside, save for a few dark brown stains on the seats and floor. "I bet ya'd look hot in spandex, though!"
"These are blood stains, aren't they."
"Those who don't wish to know. shouldn't ask." Ivy replied grabbing the keys from the Clown. "I'm driving, you'll get us caught."
"Fine by me, my license has been expired for years now!" Harley closed her door, clicking her seatbelt. "You ready for some fun, Sunshine?"
"What do you mean by 'fun'?" Alexandera hedged, buckling her own belt, leaning forward to catch some heat from the vents upfront.
"Santa says ya been good this year!" Harley all but shouted, bouncing in her seat as Ivy began the drive to where they were headed. "So Santa's little helpers are here ta give ya the best day evah!"
"So we're gonna hit a couple of bars, eat some food, and watch Die Hard?" Harley stopped her bouncing, almost hovering over her seat, as she glanced back to the chef.
"When's the last time ya got pampered?"
"I dunno," the Chef shrugged, scratching her head in thought. "I got through the DMV in less than an hour in January without an appointment." Ivy face in the rear view mirror could only be described as a 'not bad' expression. Harley looked frustrated at the response.
"Kitty's gonna have her work cut out for her."
Selina Kyle favored herself as a women with fine tastes. The best clothes, the finest jewelry, the most luscious make ups. Her uptown apartment lavishly furnished and decorated with rare and unusual trinkets. Anything she wanted, she had. Seeing the bedraggled women standing apprehensively in the middle of her living room, old torn clothes unfitting her figure, hair freshly dyed but frizzy from the cheap dye, and to her keen eyes, nails bitten down and ragged, made the Cat's fur stand on end. Her fellow femme fatales made themselves comfortable in her home, Harley flipping herself over the couch's back, sitting upside down with her legs kicking in the air, while Ivy situated herself near the penthouse terrace, enjoying the view of the park.
"Hello Kittens." Selina slinked her way into the wide living space, seemingly gliding over the floor. Harley waved a leg back and forth in the air in greeting.
"Hey Kitty! Thanks for doin' this!" The ragamuffin girl in an apron jumped at the sudden greeting, turning to gaze at the elegant host.
"Of course, I couldn't miss an opportunity like this." She meant it of course, Joker had dished out quite the paycheck, though Selina was sure Harley had forged his signature on the proverbial cheque. She held her hand out the the rough looking woman. "Selina, pleasurrre to meet you." Alexandera gripped her hand strongly, shaking it.
"Alexandera, like wise, I guess." Even her voice was rough, lower than most women in Gotham. The chef turned to Harley. "What's going on?"
"We're givin ya our Christmas gift!" Harley flipped over herself, tumbling into a standing position. "A full make over!" The clown bounced on her heels, arms tucked tight into her body as she cupped her own cheeks and wriggled in excitement. "Kitty here agreed to help out with gettin ya new clothes, and gettin yer hair done, yer nails, fixin yer face, the whooole shebang!" Selina grinned, amused by Harley's antics. Alexandera on the other hand, didn't seem so thrilled.
"Harley, I appreciate what your trying to do, but I don't need a make over." The Chef crossed her arms. "My clothes fit, I can't have shit on my nails with my job, I already did my hair, and my face is fine."
"Darrrling, any women worth her salt knows," The Cat purred, slowly circling the Chef, "Everyone loves eye candy." Selina stopped in front of Alexandera, placing a finger under her chin as the Chef scowled. "Man and women."
Well, if you can't beat 'em...
The apartment had changed into a miniature spa and boutique. There was a buff shirtless man at the wet bar, supplying drinks, two more at massage tables, working on a loudly moaning Clown. Racks of designer clothes standing off to one side which Ivy browsed, as a hair stylist fussed over Alexandera's hair. Selina watched all this close by, her nails being filed into points. Alexandera tried not to smack the barber as she chastised the botched dye job.
"The colours fine, but what bleach did you use? These ends are horrific."
"I keep my hair pulled back at work, what does it matter if I have split ends."
"It's unhealthy for your hair! How often do you get a hair cut?"
"I dunno, once every couple of years, maybe?" The stylist gasped, snipping another strand from her hair.
"Lina, do you hear this?" The Cat sipped from her straw.
"Not everyone can manage to look good all the time. That's why your herrre." Alexandera rolled her eyes at the unintended insult. The dark women, in more way than one, seemed to be enjoying the Chefs suffering. She had been in the chair for only twenty minutes and she was ready to jump out the window and hope for the best. It wasn't like she had the time to get hair cuts. Cooking was a literal full time job. Another snip, and Alexandera resisted the urge to scratch her ear.
"How do you style your hair when you aren't at work?" Joker shoot the nosy women.
"I don't. I keep it up most days. If it's down, it's down." The stylist gave a disgusted scoff.
"The ends are gone, I'm going to grab my style book. Lina talk some sense into her." The stylist raised her hands, walking away grumbling. Alexandera scratched her ears roughly.
"Bitch, it's my hair." Alexandera grumbled. The women sitting next to her literally purred.
"So, Ragamuffin, why did you dye your hair?" Selina watched as Alexandera picked at the ends of her hair, feeling the tips.
"Jervis kept calling me Alice. I told him if he kept doing it, I'd dye my hair, and well..." Selina picked a holographic gold polish, as her nail artist finished filing.
"Jervis? Oh, you mean Hatter." Alexandera nodded, sighing as she slumped in the chair.
"Yeah, him. Why do I gotta get my hair done, it's already dyed." Selina shook her head in amused disbelief.
"I don't think I ever seen a woman so against a free make over."
"Look, it's not like I'm ungrateful, I just think I'm fine the way I am."
"Confidence is the sexiest thing a woman can wear, but don't you want to match that confidence, Darrrling?" Selina stood, moving behind the Chef. Looking at her through the mirror she began to toy with her hair. "I think someone as brrright as you, should shine." Selina pulled a portion of her hair aside, looking at it intensely.
"My kitchen's got enough chrome to shine for the both of us." Selina laughed.
"You really arrre difficult."
"My damn middle name." The hair stylist walked back in, holding a thick binder in her hand.
"So Lina, convince her to co-operate?" Alexandera looked like she was ready to hiss at the woman.
"Oh yes, and I think I have an idea on what to do to herrr." Selina leaned down and whispered into the Chef's ear. "Now, my little Ragamuffin, let's make you shine!"
When all was said and done, Alexandera couldn't complain too much. In fact, despite the bitch of a hair dresser, and that was saying much from the Crowned Bitch of the Kitchen, Alexandera was happy her friend's gift. While she couldn't paint her nails, they were trimmed, polished and shined. Her new coat was a deep maroon fitted trench coat, lined in sumptuous fabric. It flared around her hips when she walked, the buttons a matte black. Her hair was now pushed to one side, a braid acting as an unnatural part now that the other side was shaved clean, and even with her flinching at every little object that came at her face, the make up brought out something she never saw on herself. She looked like a colourful posh punk. And she loved it. Harley did too, letting her excitement be known by hanging off one of Alexandera's arm.
"See! I knew you'd like it, Sunshine!" Selina inspected herself in the next mirror, happy with her new studded catsuit.
"Yes, she does really shine, doesn't she." Alexandera smiled her crooked smile, as her hand grazed the skin of her skull.
"Well yeah, this clean of a shave, I'm bound to reflect the sun." Harley guffawed, amazed at the joke coming from the usually disgruntled chef. In the corner, Ivy stood in her new rich emerald green faux leather jacket, speaking quietly on the phone before she hung up, walking over to the preening women.
"We've stalled long enough, it's time to go." Alexandera cocked her head towards the redhead.
"Stalled?" Selina took her cue.
"Take the Jaguar, no reason to to dull yourselves in that hunk of rrrust." Keys went sailing through the hair, caught by Ivy before Harley could snatch them.
"Wait hold on, stalled?" Selina grinned like the cat caught the canary, ushering the three women to the door.
"Remember my little Ragamuffin. Shine." The Chef continued to implore for answers, guided out the apartment of luxury and into the stench of Gotham. The Shine of the city.
On the very edge of Gotham, at the end of Gotham Wharf was the decrepit ruins of The Fun House. The once bustling carnival now lay forgotten and dormant, falling apart at the seams, but if one were to brave the rotting city and venture into the depths of the circus, they would find the home of the Clown Prince of Crime. As it was it was a rudimentary hideout, basic necessities and a small lab to produce Joker Toxin and a few rooms with beds for the goons who had no home of their own. Tonight though, the goons had been busy. The once dark and warped imposing city line was lit and loud. At the very entrance was where Alexandera found herself abandoned by her fellow females. Alexandera found her only option to be to walk up to a poor man dressed in a clown outfit trapped in a small admittance booth, with a hand written ADMIT ONE ticket As she neared the man with the bulbous red nose, he perked up to attention.
"Ticket, please." Alexandera handed over the flimsy notebook paper, and tried not to roll her eyes as the man actually inspected it for flaws. Once the man was assured of the authenticity of the fake ticket her motioned for her wrist. He placed a bright green paper bracelet around her wrist. "Have fun." And then the metal gate swung open with a great creak.
"Thanks." Alexandera walked through the gate, jumping slightly as it closed with a loud crash. The carnival seemed ripped out of a child's dream. Lit up with colourful lights, all the rides were operating, all the booths manned by men in clown outfits, all the food carts wafted sickly sweet and fatty smells. Yet not a single person walked the paths, no shrieks of children joined the hokey music.
"Step right up! Don't be shy!" It was a voice the Chef had come to recognize without ever meaning to. "Over here!" When Alexandera turned she was met with The Joker, leaning on a cane, dressed in a purple ringleader suit and boater hat. He stood at a Ball Toss booth, little Batman figurines acting as the targets.
"Should of guessed you lived in a circus." The chef greeted, walking up to the Joker.
"What can I say? It's thematic." The Joker laughed, twirling his cane.
"What's going on Joker?" Alexandera placed a hand on her cocked hip, standing a respectable distance from the clown, just in case. "Isn't this like one giant 'I'm Here' sign for Batman to come show up?" The Joker grabbed a basket of baseballs from under the counter and placed them in front of the Chef.
"Awww, Chefie, you do care!" Alexandera huffed. "Nah, Bats is gonna be very busy tonight!" His laughter rang out through the park, overcoming the sound of the music easily.
"Joker, normally I wouldn't ask this but," The Joker tilted his head, seemingly eager to answer whatever question the Chef was going to ask. "What did you do?" If possible, The Jokers grin widened, splitting his face in half.
"I may or may not have kidnapped a bus full of goodhearted nurses, and stashed them away, sending Batsie on a wild goose chase!" Alexandera's palm hit her forehead.
"There goes my plausible deniability." The Joker prodded her with his bamboo cane.
"Aw, come on! I didn't want him interrupting my gift." This caused the Chef to startle.
"Why? What's with all this? I don't get any of this!" Alexandera's voice wasn't hysterical per se, but it did crack a little from stress she hadn't even realized she had been shouldering. Maybe she should have gotten that massage. The Joker's smile never faultered, as he were expecting the outburst, hell, maybe he even orchestrated it somehow.
"Alex, your a smart girl. You know when to keep your mouth shut, and you don't put on airs." The Joker grabbed a ball, tossing it in the air repeatedly. "I do, what I do because it's funny! It's funny to see how all those little ants scurry when I come in with a magnifying glass and blur the lines and caver in the tunnels they so expertly crafted to keep the Queen fed and happy, but you," The Cane was prodded into Alexandera again, this time she grabbed it, pulling it out of the Joker's grasp. He hooted out a laugh, clutching his stomach as if in pain. "See? SEE! That's it right there! You never once begged. You never once ran! You had countless oppotunites to ditch, ran to the cops, or run away and hide, but you ain't like that. You looked at an unstoppable force in your way and said 'You move.'" The Joker vaulted over the counter, startling Alexandera with how close he was in such a short amount of time.
"I held a gun your face, and you laughed! Well maybe not actually, but you didn't back down." The Joker, in a rare moment of sincerity, poked the Chef's cheek. "The ants out there are funny, because they are so easily squished. You're funny because I'll threaten to squish you, and you'll sting me, because you're not an ant. You're a wasp. An angry, buzzing little wasp who don't take kindly to being swatted at." He roughly grabbed Alexandera's hand, shoving the ball into it. "Beside's, I like supporting local businesses, you're food's the bee's knees!" The Joker laughed at his little joke, not flinching when the Chef threw threw the ball at his shoulder.
"You blow up local businesses."
"True, but my suits come from somewhere." The Joker stood ram rod straight, extedning his arm towards the ball booth. "Step right up, and win a prize!" The Chef, not being to be told twice, took the basket off the counter, and chucked it at the tower of Batmen, knocking it over as well as the two on either side.
"I want the Batman with the pirana on his ass." She said so plainly, despite the grin on her face. The Joker grinned, yanking it by the foot and tossing it at the Chef. He sure knew how to pick his friends.
Hours passed by in whirling, spinning path of madness and dare she say it, fun. The Joker had taken it upon himself to ensure that Alexandera played every game, eat from every booth, and rode every ride. One by one with each stall used, the lights shut down, the music fading until all that was left was one last ride, the only source of light and sound.
"Last Ride! All passenger please keep you limbs out and don't bother with your seat belt, there are none!" Seeing as how Alexandera was the only passenger, she didn't see the need for the announcment. Pulling a floor lever, the ride lurched on it's way. As it passed, the Joker leapt deftly into the seat behind hers. "Oh damn."
"What?" The Chef asked, turning in the seat.
"I forgot to check to see if this ride was operational." The Clown murmured, rubbing his chin. The ride was quickly picking up speed, rattling on the tracks.
"You WHAT?!" Before Alexandera got her reply, The Joker raised his arms and howled in delight, as the ride made a sudden and unexpected nose dive.
"WEEEEEEEEEEEEE! HAHAHAHAHA!" Alexandera clutched the wobbling safety rail as the Joker screamed his delight's behind her. She was absolutely petrified, no sound coming from her as she held on for her life as the cart dipped and turned at break neck speeds, feeling as if it would come the rails at any moment. It was dark save for green and purple light bulbs illuminating paintings she couldn't see as the rode their way to certain doom. Just as Alexandera began to make her peace with whatever god chose to take her, the ride crashed sending her and her fellow passenger flying through the air.
"FUUUCK!" As last words went, this would be the phrase truest to herself Alexandera could scream. Fulling expecting a rough landing, she shreiked when she first touched ground... Only... It was soft, and round, and fulling surrounding her... She could hear the Joker's muffled laughs from somewhere above her, and she struggled to climb out of the ball pit she found herself in. Breaching the surface she foujnd the Joker lying half sunken in the pit wiping tears from his face.
"You- PFFT HAHA HA! The LOOK on Your- HAAA HA!" He wheezed in delight, as the Chef began pelting him with plastic balls.
"I could have DIED!" She threw the balls harder, trying to get one lodged in his gaping mouth. "If I die I'll fucking haunt your ass with erectile dysfunction!"
"Aw, come on Sunshine. That's be no fun fer me!" A perky female called out, her voice echoing in the room. Alexandera kept throwing the balls without looking at the Joker, searching for Harley.
"What's going on?" Bright lights blinded the Chef momentarily. When her sight adjusted, she was met with a potted palm tree, covered in lights. Harley stood near by offering her hand out to Alexandera, which she took, only after throwing one more ball at the Joker for good measure. The Riddler and Jonathon Crane watched from a distance, both delighted for their own reasons at the Chef's predicament. Once vertical, the Chef repeated her question.
"Puddin, ya got yer pocket watch?" The Joker breast stroked his way to the edge of the Ball pit, hoisting himself out.
"Rrright here!" With practiced ease, he pulled a comically large pocket watch from his coat, clicking it open. Harley pointed to it.
"Ya get the idea, Sunshine?" Harley asked, dressed in a black and red skimpy elf outfit.
"It's midnight?" Harley thrust her hands in the air.
"Gawd, yer blonder than me sometimes." Harley squished the Chef's cheek together. "It's CHRISTMAS!"
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Alright folks, Thank you all so much for your reviews, I always look forward to seeing them. I wanna try something Different for the next chapter. Since I'm working out the finally kinks in the next plot point, I was thinking of doing one of those corny Ask The Character's chapters. It looks like fun and it might give me some more practice in staying true to character's for the Rouges. So send the questions. Whether it's to me specifically or it's supposed to be towards the people in the story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Remember, the world would be bleaker without you.
s742