Drenched in Blood

Batman stood, waiting for them, on top of the abandoned warehouse the Joker had told him to be at. Like promised, there were no cops. Just Batman. The Joker climbed out of the van, laughing excitedly. French looked at the discarded wig for a second but then remembered the way the Joker had kissed her and she didn't grab it. She got out of the van, a rippling sensation of blood-lust filled her as she looked at Batman. She cracked a smile at him and joined the Joker at his side.

"Joker," Bruce greeted him with one short nod of the head, "What do you want, I get it, you know my identity. What are you going to do?"

The Joker threw his head back and laughed at him, "I'm going to expose your identity and then, I'm going to kill you."

French giggled, excitedly, "And I'm going to let everyone know that you like a little taste of the 'dark side' every now and then."

He glared at her, then looked at the Joker shocked, "That's right, Batty, I know how you touched on my Bloody Jax," he growled sinisterly.

Batman took a step back, "I knew you would bring her, so I hope you don't mind I brought something different with me this time," he said, pulling out a gun, it seemed to be shaped like a crooked bat.

"Oh, Battie has toys," French clapped her hands excitedly and hopped up and down.

The Joker started to feel uneasy, he pulled out his knife, "Biscuit, stay there," he lunged for Batman, his knife raised in the air.

Batman met him in the middle throwing out punches and kicks. French couldn't see the gun anymore, she assumed he laid it down somewhere. Batman contacted the Joker occasionally, but not as much as the Joker was getting him. He had long gashes in his arms from the Joker's knife. They fought until the Joker got punched good enough to get him down. French stood up, outraged, and ran at Batman, her knife ready. She slashed at the air around him, not able to make contact. Batman hit her once in the stomach, but not hard enough to get her down. She jumped for his throat. His hand slapped her knife out of the way. The knife tumbled to the ground and she let out an angry screech. She leaped for him, taking him down. She pulled out one of his razor-sharp bat-a-rangs and pressed it against his bare throat.

"Any last thing you would like to say, Mister Wayne?" she purred, threateningly.

"No but do you," in one swift motion he knocked her hand out of the way and pulled out his gun.

He pulled the trigger. French didn't hear the shot, everything suddenly got muted, like when you stick your head under water and it fills your ears. She heard a deafening roar somewhere inside of her little bubble of muted sound, it sounded like the Joker. French felt the ground hit her back as she fell backwards. Something shoved her out of the way in a purple flash. She heard a couple of really quiet gunshots then saw a black cloak running away.

Then she saw the Joker's face, slapping her cheeks, roughly, "Biscuit, Biscuit," his voice started cutting through the water.

"Joker," she purred, smiling, "What's going on?"

"You've been, ah, shot," his eyes were full of agony.

"Oh, I don't feel it," rust-flavored liquid filled her mouth and she spit it out, "Did you kill Mister Wayne?"

"No, he ran away."

"Oh," the Joker disappeared.

The Joker looked at her, his face full of terror, "I can't stop the bleeding," he groaned, then he realized why, she was shot directly in the lung, she's going to die, he realized, full of horror. He still had the gun in his hand, he leaned down to whisper to her, "Let's play Joker roulette," he murmured, his lips pressing against the skin under her ear. He pressed the gun into her hand and lead it to be placed against his own temple, "Come on, Doll, ah pull the trigger."

She started to feel the pain and tears welled up in her eyes and it hit her what he was doing, it filled her with an incredible sadness, the tears dribbled down her cheeks, "No," she whispered, choking from the pain, "Just hold me, till I'm gone. That's all I need."

He shook his head, angrily, "No, come on, Biscuit, you know you'd love to take me with you."

She studied his face, still gasping for air trying to bring her head out of the water, realizing she was going to fail, "Say it, and I will, Joker," He bit his lip, she clutched at the place the bullet was, her hands filling with blood, "Say it, Goddammit."

With his hand wrapped around the gun over hers, he bent down and crashed his lips against hers, for a second she forgot the pain, only his lips existed, "Biscuit, how could this happen?" he asked in pure agony, "It seems I have fallen in love with you and I couldn't bear to, ah, be alone when you're gone. Chaos will, ah, be better with out me, Little J too. The inevitable truth is, I love you," he pulled their hands wrapped in the gun to his stomach.

Tears flowed from her eyes, "That's all I ever wanted," she gasped, "I love you too," then he mad her pull the trigger.

It sent a bullet through his lung as well, making him cry out in extreme agony, "I'm okay, we're okay," he purred.

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight, trying to soak in his smell, "I'm glad I got to share these last moments with you," she shook, crying.

"Me too," he gasped, pressing his lips to hers, roughly kissing her until she took in a last gurgled breath and the blood begin to drown her.

He shook mightily as he hugged her to him, not able to contain the large sobs, he pulled the gun up to his temple, "I'm following right behind you, as always, French Jaxon," speaking her name for the first time, he pulled the trigger.