A little fic offering
Story Title: What a Little Moonlight can do - Part 1
Summary: The Joker receives some unlikely assistance
Genre: I dunno (little help?)
Pairing: The Joker/Unnamed extra
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I don't believe anyone owns the Joker. Joker for all! But I bet DC comics and Warner Bros. might disagree.
Author Notes: Not spoiler-y at all, but a little adult. Not explicit. But it's my first time ever, so comments and welcomed, but be gentle.
She heard the explosion while getting a glass of water. Always the type to walk toward what most everyone else ran from, she immediately went for the front door. The apartment was a joke - tiny, dirty, and in a bad neighborhood. It was the sort of place no decent girl walked about at night alone, but the air was electric, and she liked it.
Peering though the small window on the front door she could see chaos: police cars, a fire engine, and lots of smoke. Just then she saw him, a flash of kinetic energy bound in a deep purple suit. She gasped. Is it actually him? She thought while craning to get a better look. The flush washed over her and she could feel her skin grow warm. He was taller that she though, with a sort of swagger. He looked around, animated but with precision, his moves cautious.
This was not at all the way he had been described on television. There was a definite method to all this. She sat at the door mumbling, "You better hurry up. They're coming any second now." Biting her lower lip, she paused. He slowly made his way up the narrow walk which comprised her street while looking about for strategy.
You could hear the police now, even inside her apartment. Splitting up, checking every building, and leaving no stone unturned. Still, she found herself actually worried she might be captured. I mean sure, the theatric thing was kinda hot, but this guy's a criminal . She pondered what he's really capable of when he appeared directly in front of her door. He had inched his way down the block and now stood with his back directly in front of her.
Almost instinctual, she threw the lock off the door, swung it open and grabbed the back off his coat pulling him into her apt. She closed the door and locked it just as he regained his balance. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, quizzical expression pouring over his face. "We don't have time for this." she replied, "They're coming, so if you want to get out of this follow me."
Ignoring his expression, she blew past him and into her room. "This apartment used to be a gin mill. There's this sort of cellar thing." she began. "Nothing like a descriptive storyteller!" he replied, mildly out of breath.
"Yes, well, you can hide in there until they stop looking." She moved a rug to exposed a small latch-lift door and reached for the latch. One good tug and it lifted to expose a small stairway. "Its very small and there's no light, but in a pinch it will do. Hurry!"
He started for the stairs. "I'm not afraid of the dark." he responded dryly, "but who in the Hell are you?" She stopped, and for first time really thought about what she was doing. With a nervous laugh she replied, "I'm a fan of chaos." There was a knock at the door which abruptly ended the exchange. He ducked and she lowered the door, replacing the rug to hide it. She then grabbed her robe and walked toward the door.
"Gotham PD! Hello?" the voice boomed from beyond the door. Psyching herself up, she reached for the door, leaving the chain in place. "Yeah...hello?" She said, drowsily. She rubbed her eyes and attempted to ham this up as much as she could.
"Yes ma'am, there is a large scale manhunt for the murderer known as 'The Joker' in this neighborhood and we would like to have a look in your apartment if you don't mind." She stretched, "It's 3:30 in the morning, and I haven't let anyone in."
"Ma'am he might be in your apartment without you even being aware of it." She closed the door to remove the chain, thinking to herself I'd like to thank the academy... before half yawning, "I highly doubt that, but feel free to look around." She walked into her bedroom, stopping just on top of an old fashioned rag rug near the bathroom door.
The police walked through each room, checking under the bed and the closet before radio back that section 9 was clear. They thanked her for her time and cautioned her to keep her doors and windows securely locked. "Ok guys, good luck finding the Puzzler or whatever his name is." she said, throwing a half-hearted wave out as she slammed the door.
A smile spread enormous as she made her way back to the rug. She grabbed the door and lifted as the Joker sprang from the hole. The force of it knocked the already squatting hoarder backwards onto her behind. "So now all you have to do is hang out until they clear out, which shouldn't be too-" she began, but was cut off by a very irate psychopath.
"The Puzzler???" he demanded. "The...Puzz...ler?" He stomped past her and sat at the end of her bed. "Don't you know who I am?" She was stunned. His pride was wounded, the man who has terrorized the entire city for months and he's moping because of something she had said.
This was insane she thought, but it has to be fixed. First of all, its just bad manners. He's a guest and all. Second, he's a nutbar capable of wearing my head like a hat. She chuckled inexplicably at that thought, and lifting her head noticed he was staring at her.
"Oh course I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. You're the clown prince of crime, for God's sake." she purrs, rolling onto her knees and creeping toward the bed where he sat. "I was just mocking the police, that's all."
"You mocked me." he murmured, licking his lips. "You shouldn't mock people. It can get you into trouble. Speaking of which, you wanna know how I got these scars?" She made her way over crawling, having shed the robe and stopped before him, resting her cheek on his knee. "I'm dying to know." she exclaimed, breathlessly.
He turned his head and began fidgeting with one of his many knives. "You're still mocking me." he huffed, pointing with his knife, "I don't like it, I don't, I don't like being mocked." She giggled impishly, "I'm not, I promise, really I'm not." She straightened and began to part his legs and scoot closer to him. "What are you doing?" he asked, perhaps genuinely surprised.
"I upset you." she responded coolly, then looking right at him, "Let me make it up to you." Before waiting for approval she began to unbutton his slacks and slide down to onto her knees. He sat there incredulous, then brought the knife to her chin and brought her eyes to his. "I could cut your face right off at any moment." he huffed through clenched teeth. She squinted, nodding her respectful understanding.
"Then I guess I better do a good job then." To show her understanding, she run her tongue across the edge of the knife, which he then pulled away. He looked at her and as she smiled, he laughed maniacally. She took a deep breath and went to work, he closed his eyes and exclaimed, "You are something different. I like it."
Edit: There\s now a part two! You can find it here!
Summary: The Joker receives some unlikely assistance
Genre: I dunno (little help?)
Pairing: The Joker/Unnamed extra
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I don't believe anyone owns the Joker. Joker for all! But I bet DC comics and Warner Bros. might disagree.
Author Notes: Not spoiler-y at all, but a little adult. Not explicit. But it's my first time ever, so comments and welcomed, but be gentle.
She heard the explosion while getting a glass of water. Always the type to walk toward what most everyone else ran from, she immediately went for the front door. The apartment was a joke - tiny, dirty, and in a bad neighborhood. It was the sort of place no decent girl walked about at night alone, but the air was electric, and she liked it.
Peering though the small window on the front door she could see chaos: police cars, a fire engine, and lots of smoke. Just then she saw him, a flash of kinetic energy bound in a deep purple suit. She gasped. Is it actually him? She thought while craning to get a better look. The flush washed over her and she could feel her skin grow warm. He was taller that she though, with a sort of swagger. He looked around, animated but with precision, his moves cautious.
This was not at all the way he had been described on television. There was a definite method to all this. She sat at the door mumbling, "You better hurry up. They're coming any second now." Biting her lower lip, she paused. He slowly made his way up the narrow walk which comprised her street while looking about for strategy.
You could hear the police now, even inside her apartment. Splitting up, checking every building, and leaving no stone unturned. Still, she found herself actually worried she might be captured. I mean sure, the theatric thing was kinda hot, but this guy's a criminal . She pondered what he's really capable of when he appeared directly in front of her door. He had inched his way down the block and now stood with his back directly in front of her.
Almost instinctual, she threw the lock off the door, swung it open and grabbed the back off his coat pulling him into her apt. She closed the door and locked it just as he regained his balance. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, quizzical expression pouring over his face. "We don't have time for this." she replied, "They're coming, so if you want to get out of this follow me."
Ignoring his expression, she blew past him and into her room. "This apartment used to be a gin mill. There's this sort of cellar thing." she began. "Nothing like a descriptive storyteller!" he replied, mildly out of breath.
"Yes, well, you can hide in there until they stop looking." She moved a rug to exposed a small latch-lift door and reached for the latch. One good tug and it lifted to expose a small stairway. "Its very small and there's no light, but in a pinch it will do. Hurry!"
He started for the stairs. "I'm not afraid of the dark." he responded dryly, "but who in the Hell are you?" She stopped, and for first time really thought about what she was doing. With a nervous laugh she replied, "I'm a fan of chaos." There was a knock at the door which abruptly ended the exchange. He ducked and she lowered the door, replacing the rug to hide it. She then grabbed her robe and walked toward the door.
"Gotham PD! Hello?" the voice boomed from beyond the door. Psyching herself up, she reached for the door, leaving the chain in place. "Yeah...hello?" She said, drowsily. She rubbed her eyes and attempted to ham this up as much as she could.
"Yes ma'am, there is a large scale manhunt for the murderer known as 'The Joker' in this neighborhood and we would like to have a look in your apartment if you don't mind." She stretched, "It's 3:30 in the morning, and I haven't let anyone in."
"Ma'am he might be in your apartment without you even being aware of it." She closed the door to remove the chain, thinking to herself I'd like to thank the academy... before half yawning, "I highly doubt that, but feel free to look around." She walked into her bedroom, stopping just on top of an old fashioned rag rug near the bathroom door.
The police walked through each room, checking under the bed and the closet before radio back that section 9 was clear. They thanked her for her time and cautioned her to keep her doors and windows securely locked. "Ok guys, good luck finding the Puzzler or whatever his name is." she said, throwing a half-hearted wave out as she slammed the door.
A smile spread enormous as she made her way back to the rug. She grabbed the door and lifted as the Joker sprang from the hole. The force of it knocked the already squatting hoarder backwards onto her behind. "So now all you have to do is hang out until they clear out, which shouldn't be too-" she began, but was cut off by a very irate psychopath.
"The Puzzler???" he demanded. "The...Puzz...ler?" He stomped past her and sat at the end of her bed. "Don't you know who I am?" She was stunned. His pride was wounded, the man who has terrorized the entire city for months and he's moping because of something she had said.
This was insane she thought, but it has to be fixed. First of all, its just bad manners. He's a guest and all. Second, he's a nutbar capable of wearing my head like a hat. She chuckled inexplicably at that thought, and lifting her head noticed he was staring at her.
"Oh course I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. You're the clown prince of crime, for God's sake." she purrs, rolling onto her knees and creeping toward the bed where he sat. "I was just mocking the police, that's all."
"You mocked me." he murmured, licking his lips. "You shouldn't mock people. It can get you into trouble. Speaking of which, you wanna know how I got these scars?" She made her way over crawling, having shed the robe and stopped before him, resting her cheek on his knee. "I'm dying to know." she exclaimed, breathlessly.
He turned his head and began fidgeting with one of his many knives. "You're still mocking me." he huffed, pointing with his knife, "I don't like it, I don't, I don't like being mocked." She giggled impishly, "I'm not, I promise, really I'm not." She straightened and began to part his legs and scoot closer to him. "What are you doing?" he asked, perhaps genuinely surprised.
"I upset you." she responded coolly, then looking right at him, "Let me make it up to you." Before waiting for approval she began to unbutton his slacks and slide down to onto her knees. He sat there incredulous, then brought the knife to her chin and brought her eyes to his. "I could cut your face right off at any moment." he huffed through clenched teeth. She squinted, nodding her respectful understanding.
"Then I guess I better do a good job then." To show her understanding, she run her tongue across the edge of the knife, which he then pulled away. He looked at her and as she smiled, he laughed maniacally. She took a deep breath and went to work, he closed his eyes and exclaimed, "You are something different. I like it."
Edit: There\s now a part two! You can find it here!