Tonight, You're Gonna Break Your One Rule

I pretend to be asleep for most of the day, knowing by my body clock that time ticks by as I clamp my eyes shut and listen. Occasionally I'd open them, and find the room either empty, or with the clown prince hunched at his desk.

Sometimes, when I drifted out of the sleep I'd forced myself into; I'd hear him humming his soft, happy tune, along with the scratch of his pen.

I breathe softly, as his hum soothes me and my fingers gently tap the mattress. I was still so angry with him, for everything he did. Its like he worms his way into my heart then purposely ignores me and mistreats me, just to hurt me.

I didn’t get him, not one bit.

Hours seem to drag by, and soon enough I'm drifting back into my forced sleep again. I'm woken by a soft voice, melodic and mocking, and a soft hand on my shoulder.

"Wake up Precious, we're going out," I struggle up and rest on my forearms.

"Whatimeisit?" I mumble, my voice low and rough from misuse through the night and half the day.

"About six, Precious," He says, perching on the edge of my bed and watching me carefully. I tried to hard to be annoyed at him, and keep my carved smile turned downwards.

"Bit late?" I sit up fully and drink in every detail of him, nice and slow as I wake up to his painted face.

"We've going to a special event this evening, eight o'clock," He holds a weathered hand, un gloved and bare, tipped in white, out to me, and I take it, swinging my legs from the bed.

"Come on now," He smiles beautifully at me, licking his lips and I do the same, all the anger gone from both of us, electricity between our bare skin, "In the shower, get ready,"

I oblige and his hand lingers in mine until the last possible moment as I head for the bathroom. I slip in the shower a while later and bask in it's warmth, letting the hot water smother all my worries and curiosity.

When I climb out a while later I take my time getting dry, and securely wrap my towel round me after towelling my hair to almost dryness, and drying myself. When I exit the room I'm met with a beautiful sight. My clown is holding out a dress to me, clinging to the hanger like a lifeline.

I reach out with my broken nails and touch the fabric, a silk so soft it was like a whisper. It was a strapless dress, with a corseted top and a slightly flared skirt I estimated would be about two inch above my knees, bright, blood red.

I smile as I take it from him, his own yellow toothed, red smothered grin meeting mine, "It's beautiful."

I take it, with another smile, into the bathroom and slip it on, wondering how the Joker knew my size, and how he got this dress to fit so perfectly. I left my hair in its bedraggled, half dry state, just like how the Jokers is, and leave the bathroom, fixing my scarred smile into a grin.

I still couldn't do my makeup myself, so I sat in the chair and crossed my legs, waiting as the Joker drunk in my outfit and retrieved my makeup from the bathroom, kneeling in front of me again. I rest one hand on his shoulder, and the other toys with the ends of his hair as he smiles, concentrating.

He fixes my makeup and I apply the false eyelashes myself again, wondering out the bathroom afterwards to see him sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. He holds his arms out to me and I walk into them, and I lean my chin on the top of his head. His breath hits my bare collarbones and I shiver.

"Don't mess things up tonight. Stay quiet, alright?" His voice is sharp and quick, contrasting to how lovely he's acting. I take a step back, offended, and raise my eyebrows.

"What?"

He stays quiet, looking up at me. I lick my lips, as does he, and I scowl at him for putting me in a bad mood. I retrieve my coat and gloves, staying quiet and scowling, and pull them on. I shove my gun deep into my pocket and slip my knife in my sleeve, dragging my hand through my hair to mess it up a little more.

I slip on a pair of dress shoes, heeled with a small strap over the top, and adjust them a little before following the Joker out of our room and into the hall. We arrive just in time to follow the goons up the stairs, but instead of getting into the van with them, the Joker tugs on my hand and I follow him round the corner.

I'm greeted with the sight of a low slung black sports car, I wasn't aware what it was, and nor did I care. I don’t question why we're going in this car, only groan at the fact I'll be alone with him.

I climb into the passengers' seat and buckle up, resting my elbow on the door, then my chin on my hand, staring out as best I can through the tinted windows. As we're driving through the city I watch the people passing us, wondering if they realise Gotham's two biggest criminals are in the black car speeding past them. I watch each of their faces, just blanks, until two jump out at me, reaching into old memories of Gambol and the town house.

I slam my hand onto the electric window button, and as it comes down I lean out as much as I can and my voice leaps into the buzzing air of streets, "Cassie! Jess!"

In a split second, before their heads whip round from the mention of their names, the Joker has pushed me back into my seat and stamped on the accelerator. I'm thrown back into my seat and kept there, as I scream their names again, not realising how much I'd missed them. We dodge through traffic, as the Joker scowls, getting as far away from them as possible.

As we pull up behind a large building the Joker switches off the engine and turns to regard me with a glare like eye.

"What were you doing, Precious?" He spits, "What do you think you were doing? Blowing our cover, no, no, couldn't let you do that." He raises a gloved hand, pointed at me, and his eyebrows, "Stay quiet."

I press my lips together as I climb out of the car just as the goons pull up in the van, we move quickly so as not to get caught, and make our way up the outside fire escape, cloaked by the darkness. I realise, after a second, that we're on a balcony, and next to us is a large glass wall, the room inside full of people.

It's Bruce Wayne's penthouse.

Bruce Wayne, big shot in Gotham, the biggest, the millionaire. 'One fundraiser with Bruce Wayne and you can get anywhere!' So he said.

The Joker raises his gun and shoots through a pane of glass, whether it's door or window, and immediately the whole audience reaction. They run to the other side of the room and huddle like a pack cornered. We stride into the room and my clown grins his famous grin, licking his lips.

"Hello Gotham," He glances round and smoothes his hair, "You know what I'm going to say, don’t you?"

A girl with auburn hair tied neatly in a bun raises her chin in defiance, "We're tonight's entertainment," She mocks, "Right?"

A few people gasp as she dares to stand up to him, and with a studious glare I realise it's the same girl from the office we raided a while ago, where I first killed. Jealousy rises in me and I turn away, not bearing to look at him as he, no doubt, invades her personal space and asks her about his scars.

I make my way through the crowd, but they're too enthralled by my clown to notice me. I spot one person looking a little too relaxed, and as he turns I realise why.

It's Bruce Wayne, and he's far too above all this to be bothered by it. I remember the Joker telling me to stay quiet, and bite my lip in my bad way, and disregard my clowns' muttered words.

"Brucie," I mutter in his ear, and he spins in his immaculate, no doubt expensive, shoes. He simply stays quiet, and raises an eyebrow a millimetre.

"Aren't you scared, Mr Wayne?"

He shakes his head a fraction and stays quiet, until I think he's not going to answer, then looks me right in the eye.

"He's scum, you know."

I stare him back, and raise my eyebrows, "Who?"

"The Joker." He takes a breath, and I watch his clavicle convulse, "He's a madman." He stares at me closer, leaning in a fraction, "You're a normal person, you know, you don’t have to live by his rules, if he's even got any."

I shove my hands in my pockets, and I'm about to argue back, until I hear my clown's voice. I tilt my head towards him and listen like a dog.

"Would you like me to carve your face toots? Hm?" He spits.

The girl cuts him off with a cutsie little giggle, and my anger bubbles in me. The animal surfaces and in a second I've pulled the gun from my pocket and fired it, barely even looking. The place screams, and I hear the thud of the girls' body slumping to the floor.

I look back, and Bruce Wayne is gone. I curse under my breath and pocket my gun, calmly turning back to the Joker and the scene. I fix my clown with a stony glare to tell him I'm completely serious, and he quirks one eyebrow.

I move forward, and a couple step from the crowd, hands clasped.

"Enough, Joker," Harvey Dent drawls, Rachel Dawes stood defiant at his side.

"Why, Harvey Dent?" He emphasises each syllable and I join his side, fixing Rachel with a glare, "We're just getting started!"

He throws his head back in raucous laughter and I giggle along with him, still staring at Rachel in that hollow way. She shivers a little and grips Harvey's arm tighter.

"No, no, no... no. We're just here," The Joker says, his grin back and his voice full of mockery, "To tell you dear, rich, rich citizens of Gotham, a nice secret."

"We don’t want your lies, Joker," Harvey says stonily, and my clown just laughs it off.

"No, no, I'm just saying. I think I know who Batman is, Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes," He giggles a little, and as I'm watching Rachel so closely I see the fear flash through her eyes for a second, "And he's here."

A ripple runs through the crowd, and I'm surprised they're even taking the Joker seriously. Although, I remember with a smile, he is a man of his word.

"That's right!" I hear a gruff voice say, so growled I can barely hear it, but when we spin I can place the voice easily.

"Batsy!" The Joker yelps, dodging to the side as his goons flood between him and us, and the Joker pushes a few of them forward to greet the Batman.

"I hope you're the real one this time!" The Joker says over his fighting goons, and Batman acts like he doesn't hear, punching another person to the floor. The defences between the Joker and I, and the Batman are thinning, and it's clear he could get through to us.

The Joker is a coward, I realise, as he grabs my hand and we run out the door, down the fire escape and to our car. I'm out of breath and laughing as I fall into the passengers seat.

We're cruising down the highway, acting as though we hadn’t just crashed Bruce Wayne's party and killed a girl, when the Joker speaks up, "Why did you kill her?"

"She giggled." I hiss, "You threatened her, and she giggled." I clench my hands, "She fucking enjoyed it."

"Why do you care?" He says back, his voice rising as his hands tighten on the wheel.

Only I'm allowed to do that! I think viciously, and he swerves violently into another lane to convey his anger at my silence. I bite my lip to avoid a huge argument and simply glare out the window again.

I head straight back to the bedroom, shrug off my coat onto the back of the chair and lie on my side of the bed, glaring up at the ceiling with a scowl. The Joker skips past me into the bathroom, and emerges a few seconds later, humming.

The bed dips where he climbs on next to me. I turn my head away from his, and jump violently when his fingertips start tracing their way up and down my thigh, 'walking', so soft I can barely feel them, yet his touch sends shivers down my spine.

"You aren't still in a mood with me, are you Precious?" He giggles, right in my ear and I shiver again, "You can't be mad at Mister J."

I press my lips together and remain firmly faced away from him, "Look at me," He sings, and when I don’t his hand is round my chin and he forces me to turn, "Look. At Me."

I stare at him, deep in his eyes, and lick my lips, "Whose Batman, then, Mister J?" my voice is monotone and emotionless, and he taps his nose, giggling.

"For me to know and you to find out."

I take a deep breath and frown, so confused at how strange he's being, almost like he's got schizophrenia. I didn’t get why he was always changing.

"I don’t you get, Mister J."

He smiles, "You're not supposed to. It's part of the fun."

I sigh again and close my eyes, "It sure is."