To the Point of Obsession

The Joker stood on the corner beside me, a mask in his hand. I kept on glancing around nervously. I felt really out of place, I was wearing an incredibles mask next to a guy wearing clown makeup.

"You really have no reason to be nervous, dollface." He didn't look up from the ground, but he was aware of my thoughts.

"I'm not nervous."

He laughed dryly. "I can tell you're worried about your reputation, your idenitity maybe, too. But it'll get better, more people will fear you. Now, they'll know you don't just kill those that you plan to. You kill anyone now."

"No, I don't. That's your jo-"

I couldn't finish the word, The Joker slapped me across the face, making me stumble slightly.

"Don't. Insult. Me," he growled, pulling me close to his face, and then pushing me back. He straightened up and walked back to the corner. I pulled myself back together and saw the van coming. When it stopped, I got in the back, looking at the clowns. There were three, including the Joker.

"How many?" one clown asked after a few minutes.

"Four on the floor, including the broad, and two on the roof."

"Six shares, that ain't bad."

"No," said one clown, "Seven, the guy who runs this."

"He expects his girl to babysit us and get a share, and get a share himself?"

"Yeah, I mean, she's doing her work, too," said the clown I knew saw the Joker. "She's not even going to get that much, most likely. He'd keep both shares if he was smart."

I refrained from punching him and looked out the window, watching Gotham City pass by.

"Why do they call him the Joker?"

"He wears makeup," I said, from the back of the van. "And he's got scars from his mouth up his cheek in a smile. He looks like a real pansy, if you ask me," I muttered, smirking at the Joker. I could tell he was wearing a scowl beneath his mask.

We got to the bank, and I muttered, "Thank fuck," walking to the bank, holding the gun up. I shot the guard, the other clowns following me.

"What do you think you're doing?" one called, grabbing me. "Don't just go off like that!"

"Um, okay, do I look like someone that works for scum like you? I'm positive the Joker told you to listen to me, so fuck off."

"But you didn't say anything."

"Well, just assume that means fire at will."

[Joker's POV.]

The Joker was watching Dahlia out of the corner of his eyes as he looked down at the concrete. Dahlia was such a… unusual name, even if I only used it once or maybe twice, he thought, rereading her profile in his head. Other than her name, location and crimes, he didn't know much about her. He wanted to know more. She could help him destroy Batman. She was smart and strong. She didn't need to be broken like the other options would have needed to be. She was already heartless. But, she didn't fear me, he thought again, remembering when she first met him.

He saw her pacing and nervously glancing around. "You have no reason to be nervous, dollface," he said, noticing her actions.

"I'm not nervous," she retorted, shaking her head.

"You're worried about your reputation, or your identity maybe. But it'll get better, more people
will fear you. Now, they'll know you don't just kill people you plan to kill. You kill anyone now."

"No, I don't," she said. He watched her, making sure she didn't say anything that she wasn't supposed to. "That's your jo-" The Joker cut her off with a quick slap on the face. There was such a thing as too free spirited. Maybe I will have to break her, he thought.

She stumbled a little, and then grabbed her cheek.

He grabbed the collar of her sweater and yanked it close to his makeup smeared face. "Don't. Insult. Me," he growled, throwing her back.

She sighed and looked around again. The van came, and the Joker pulled his mask on and got in the front seat, while Dahlia took the back. He didn't pay attention, until he caught on the topic of why Dahlia got a share. "Well, she's going to do her work as well," he said, "And anyways, I bet she's not going to get that much. He'd keep both shares if he were smart." He watched her glare at him.

He wanted to laugh, Dahlia looked so mad. He turned back around and watched the streets until Dahlia got her payback.

"He wears makeup," she said when the conversation came to the Joker. "And he's got scars from his mouth up his cheek in a smile. He looks like a real pansy, if you ask me," she muttered, smirking. He glared at her. I'll show her how much of a pansy I can be, he thought as they pulled up to the bank.

She muttered something to the extent of 'Thank something,' and walked into the bank. The other clowns looked around, following her until one grabbed her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" he yelled. "Don't just go off like that!"

Dahlia looked down at them, a disgusted look gracing her face. "Um, okay, do I look like someone that works for scum like you? I'm positive the Joker told you to listen to me, so fuck off."

Smart girl, he thought, looking on, glancing in the bank.

"But you didn't say anything."

She smirked, walking in the bank. "Then assume that means fire at will."