Just Paint Your Face

I didn't hear from him for a few days. During that time, I returned to normalcy as best as I could. By day I worked the office as usual, halfway expecting an unknown call and halfway relieved. I'd linger in the alleyway on my way home, debating whether or not I should go back, just to see. But I always decided against it, continuing on to my apartment.

In the evenings I would concentrate on honing my communication with plants, talking to them, telling them about all that I'd been feeling over the past few days. Unlike before, they would either shake in approval or droop with disappointment in understanding. After searching on the internet late into the night out of curiosity, I learned of a phenomenon known as 'the green' enabling humans a psychological connection with plants.

I enjoyed this. It made me happy that I had other friends beside the District Attorney, his love interest, and the clown everyone feared but no one could catch.

I sighed.

I was thinking of him as a friend. Because I'd felt concerned after our third meeting. The way he'd reacted after apparently calling him by his real name--I still thought about it every night before bed, every morning when I woke up.

I found myself thinking about other things, too. Where did he really get his scars? What kind of man had he been before? What kind of man was he really now, when the make up was washed off his face?

Also, he was like me. The more I thought, the more I realized. His anger--with the city, with the double crossing officials, with The Batman, with life itself--reflected my own. Only he acted, I brooded. My laughter was turning like his also, in a way. Full and unbridled, yet filled with something black and bitter.

Not only had his stolen science experiment unraveled a spark of dark insanity hidden deep in my subconscious, but he was also bringing out old feelings, old wounds, and pouring salt in them--slowly, I began to feel an inevitable connection to him. Like he somehow understood, like he somehow felt the same.

On Friday my doubts had been pushed away and I began to feel a little like my old self. Harvey was feeling better when I came in to drop some papers off on his desk, he'd successfully put a big mobster behind bars earlier that morning. Also, he'd be kissing Rachel tomorrow.

It was then I remembered The Joker, and how I'd have to cancel with Rachel with some poor excuse.

Harvey revealed my fears again when he looked up, smiling, and said, "Hey May. You ready for tomorrow?"

I bit my lip, not being able to bring myself to telling the truth, "Yes."

"Bruce coming... or it didn't work out?"

"Of course he didn't."

Harvey smirked, "Unfortunately I was only able to get some seats far off into the balcony, it'll be dark and hard to see everything, but we'll have a good time anyways." He was frowning now, running a tan hand through his shiny blonde hair. The whole testosterone battle between him and Bruce was getting out of hand. I just knew Bruce had set it up like that. He practically owned the city, anyway. Harvey sat for a moment, drumming his hands on his modern glass desk.

I suddenly thought of The Joker seated at his own desk, with his colorful dirtied socks. I fought back a stupid laugh.

"Rachel told me you found someone else."

"Yes."

"Good for you," Harvey smiled, "hopefully I'll get along with him better than Bruce, eh?"

"You'd get along with anyone better than Bruce."

"I know."

We laughed then, a fake happy laugh, and I left, getting back to my mundane work.

When Saturday arrived, I was worried sick. I couldn't back out now. What would I do? What would I tell Rachel? I asked my plants but they only shifted slowly, as if shrugging. I groaned, frustrated.

At six o clock that evening, as I was finishing the dishes and staring distractedly out into the dark sky, a knock rapped upon my door. I knew it wasn't Rachel, she buzzed.

I peered into the peephole, grasping the door handle hesitantly.

It was a man, dressed in a generic white dress shirt and some black slacks. His head was bowed, staring at the floor. His black shoes shuffled oddly at the ground as his pale arms fiddled in his pockets. His hair was a blondish brown and very sloppy. My mind tricked me into thinking it was a very disheveled and downtrodden Harvey.

I opened the door. His head snapped up and I froze.

It was the clown. But... his disguise was off. It was so strange to see him standing there casually in something other than a purple coat and lipstick that I stepped backwards. He took the unintentional invitation and forced his way into my apartment, whistling. I shut the door behind him, staring at him in complete shock. I didn't know whether to be afraid, angry, or... relieved, really.

His brown eyes traveled around my living room, my kitchen, my dining room, pausing at the blooms on the windowsill. He stared. Then his eyes settled on me, his hands coming out of his pockets. I breathed inwardly as I saw them come up empty. He threw up his hands.

"You going to get ready, or what?"

"Your scars... they're not even covered," I heard myself say angrily, "have you ever thought for one second that you might be given away because of it?" I frowned, grabbing him suddenly by the arm and leading him down the hall to my bathroom. I was amazed that he followed without objecting, without getting angry. In fact, he was humming lazily. When we reached the bathroom, I switched the light on, swinging him over to the toilet and sitting him down.

His hands slapped his legs and he whistled patiently while I pulled some liquid foundation out of my makeup drawer. I squirted a large amount of it onto my fingers, and started applying it to his face. I couldn't help but feel nervous as I did so, and he smirked when he saw goosebumps sprout across the landscape of my flesh.

"You're afraid." he said in a matter of fact tone.

I ignored him, filling in the crevices around his mouth with my own makeup. Trying to, anyways. Luckily our skin tones were pretty close. The spot below his lip was easy, as was the deeper scar on the right side. But the right side, the curved, skinny ripple of flesh was harder, and took me a few tries. I added more to his face to make it look even. He closed his eyes as my hands blended, seeming to enjoy it. I felt disgusted so I finished quickly.

"There. That looks a little better." I said, checking if I missed any spots, "at least it'll be dark in the theater and outside, so we should be okay."

We. I'd said we. Oh god no, I'd said we.

His eyes snapped open. They looked so different without the circles of black around them against the white. He said nothing, simply stared into my green ones. I felt very strange all of a sudden and rose.

"I'm going to shower and change." I muttered stupidly, "You can... um, watch TV or something." He got up then, glancing in the mirror and feeling his face. He exited the room and I shook my head. I couldn't believe I was talking to him like... like...

we were actually going on a date.

"Where's the remote?" I heard him yell as I stripped and turned the faucet on. I remembered leaving it in the dining room.

Throw it to him... I thought.

"Holy shit!" I heard him holler as it clattered at his feet.

I smirked.

I came out, fully made up, dressed in a little black dress with my thick red hair tamed into a simple bun. He was watching the news, his head cocked slightly and his arms crossed.

Everyone watched the fucking news. What was it with this town?

The phone rang.

"Hi May!" It was Rachel. Who else?

"Hi." I felt the Joker's head turn to watch me.

"You and Jack still coming?" she teased, "Harvey and I are just about ready to head out."

"Yeah. I'll see you soon."

There was an excited smile in Rachel's voice as we said goodbye and hung up.

"Let's go." I sighed.

He jumped up from the couch in that quick, agile way that made me desire him. I shook my head.

"Your hair looks terrible." I said, grabbing up my purse. At least it wasn't green.

"Do I look like someone who cares?"

He didn't. He didn't look like he cared about anything. I shrugged, "Why did you come anyway? Any of your goons would have been fine."

"Uh, Bored. Wanted to get a closer look at Dent. Besides, I don't know anyone else named... Jack. And my goons are very bad actors."

As we walked down the sidewalk toward the downtown section of the city, we kept silent. He would randomly pinch my arm at times, or flick my cheek. It was when he tugged at the stem in my arm that I yelped.

"Hide it." He snapped.

I willed it to shrink back into my arm, feeling fortunate to have that skill. It was completely hidden.

He tugged at my ear.

"Would you stop?" I growled. He was like a little boy.

"Can't help it sometimes. I could stab you instead." he giggled to himself, licking his lips.

I rolled my eyes.

When we got to the theater, Rachel, standing next to Harvey, waved and ran up, smiling.

We hugged, "You look lovely." She said.

"So do you." She was wearing a dress the color of my hair. I looked over at The Joker, whom I could tell had just finished rolling his eyes, "Rachel, this is... Jack. Jack, Rachel."

"Hiii." He said in that same voice, smiling oddly.

"Hi..." Rachel smiled, "It's nice to meet you. May says you're a funny guy."

"Really?" he raised his eyebrows and his tongue flicked out of his mouth, "My jokes are bad. But how about--"

"Here comes Harvey." I said loudly. I pushed Jack away from the light of the streetlamp, into a corner of darkness.

"Hi, May." Harvey flashed his stellar smile and presented his hand to The Joker. He stared awkwardly, slowly returning the move. In the darkness I could hear him smirk. I released a breath, relieved. It was weird how much more calm he was when the public disguise was off, "

What do you do?" Harvey asked.

"I'm a chemist." He said smoothly.

Harvey raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Interesting... so you know about the Woodrue tragedy, I'm sure..."

"Oh yeah, hit us all at the root."

Oh good god. Was there anyplace to hide my face? No.

Rachel interrupted after an odd silence, "How'd you guys meet?"

"Bumped into each other one night." I answered. Which was, after all, the truth.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Not too long..." I replied hesitantly.

"Feels like a lifetime." The Joker suddenly finished. I didn't know if he was musing out loud to himself or not. It caught me off guard and I stayed silent.

Rachel smiled sweetly.

"Guys..." Harvey said pointing to the entrance, "show's about to start."

"Oh!" Rachel said, "We'd better go get our seats. It's a long way to the balcony." I saw Harvey grip Rachel's hand as they turned and I ached strangely.

I heard a groan and a grumble beside me. The touch of his hand against mine. We followed.

He squeezed it so hard it hurt, as if to send the message that he was only doing it for appearances. His other hand went into his pocket, where I knew he was grasping his knife.

Rachel and Harvey walked ahead of us, socializing. The Joker stayed silent, his sharp eyes taking in every sight and sound, licking his lip occasionally. He didn't get out much, you could tell.

I began to grow nervous, for there was more light as we walked up to the balcony and his face was less hidden.

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice this as we took our seats, and Rachel and Harvey were making googly eyes again. When the theater darkened and the curtain went up, Harvey put his arm around her. The Joker would not copy this, much to my own relief, and merely rested his hand on top of mine. During the course of the performance he was spaced out, seemingly thinking about other things. Probably murdering everyone.

At one point he leaned, asked me if I knew what the plot was yet, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

Rachel and Harvey kept up light conversation as we walked out into the cool night air. Before we parted, Rachel gave me a smile as if to say, 'I'm happy for you.'

I returned it, thinking, If only you knew...

On my doorstep he paused, fiddling in his pockets again. Without warning, he slapped me lightly on the face.

"I'm not Jack to you." His eyes looked black again.

For some reason, this made anger spread through me like wildfire. More than anger, fury. Pure blind fury. I felt a strange sensation in my forearm. Before I realized what was happening, the vine was wrapped around his neck and he was lifted off the ground.

"How dare you?" I heard the dark voice say, "I didn't find out your name, I guessed it. So don't act like I won some stupid game of Rumpelstiltskin against you, Jack." His face was turning purple as he tried reaching into his pocket. For the first time, his eyes showed a glint of shock.

Put him down, I thought. But the coils wrapped tighter.

"Put him down, PUT HIM DOWN!" I struggled with my anger. Finally, I heard him drop to the ground, rolling awkwardly down the steps. He giggled and cracked his neck. The stem shrunk back into my arm.

"Goodnight, Ivy."

"Goodnight."