(Batman fic) Speak, chapter 13
Title: Speak
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: R
Warnings: Violence! Be scared!
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: A rehabilitated Jack Napier is brought into police custody after his wife of four years, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, falls to her death from their apartment. The only ones who seem to be on his side are Gordon and Rachel, who are haunted by the fact that 'rehabilitated' doesn't always mean 'cured'.
Notes: I've slipped a few references to other fics into "Speak," some of them serious and some (probably most) of them humourous. If you see something that sounds like I got it from a fic you wrote, I promise you that I'm poking the good kind of fun, not the bad kind.
Previous chapters:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11* Adult themes, 12
“You know,” Hideki murmured as he rolled his window down, “I hadn't considered that the press might follow us out tonight.”
Raoul was in the passenger seat, and Rachel and Jack were sitting in the back seat. “We don't have to go with you two,” Rachel said.
“No, I want us to go out; you two need to have some fun. I mean, if a dance club is your idea of fun.” He raised his eyebrows at them in the rear-view mirror.
“I talked with the officers on duty there,” Raoul offered. “They said they'd crack down on any paparazzi, but they couldn't guarantee no one's going to snap a picture and sell it.”
“Is this going to be a problem for you two?” Rachel asked. Neither of them were out at work.
Hideki shrugged. “Did you know that Faces was voted the best place to meet straight singles in Gotham?” he asked. “I'm serious, it was. Straight women go there because they know most of the men are gay and aren't going to try to get in their pants. So naturally, because all men are horny pigs, straight men go there and pretend to be gay in hopes of getting laid. Do you know how often I've heard the 'I've never felt this way about a woman before' line?” He rolled his eyes. “Pigs, all of them.”
“Just the straight ones?” Rachel asked.
“Oh, no, men in general.” He grinned back at her. “I'd heard women talk about how obvious men are when they're hitting on you, but it wasn't until I was in my first gay bar that I realised how true that is. I mean, wow. We're not subtle creatures.”
“I won't deny it,” Jack said as he deliberately lifted Rachel's skirt. She laughed and smacked his hands away. He still hadn't seen her full outfit, but from the way he kept staring at her cleavage, his brain was going to ooze out his ears once she got out of the car.
“Will you be all right in there, with all those people?” Raoul asked.
Jack shrugged. “I don't think I'll notice anyone but Rachel, really. I mean, you and Hideki look good, but . . . my God, Rachel's breasts are particularly magnificent tonight.”
“You're an atheist,” Hideki and Rachel said at the same time, then laughed. Jack rolled his eyes, resting his hand on Rachel's knee.
“I'm serious, Jack.”
“So am I.” He shrugged again. “If it starts to be too much, I'll let you know.”
“So, what if someone wants to dance with Rachel?” Hideki put in.
Jack was quiet for a while. “I don't want you dancing with anyone but me,” he told Rachel in a low voice. “But I won't make a fuss so long as they keep their hands to themselves.”
“Don't worry,” Rachel told him with a roll of her eyes, “you're the only one allowed to dry-hump me.”
“Damn it!” Hideki snapped. “I was hoping for a turn, too!”
Jack considered the lawyer, then smirked. “Eh, sure, the fag can dry-hump you, too.”
“I'm only a fag because I'm smoking hot,” the younger man laughed.
“I don't want Hideki dry-humping me!” Rachel protested.
“Right, she just wants you to,” Raoul put in.
“You're right, all men are pigs!” she exclaimed, then hit Jack's shoulder when he went for her skirt again, rubbing his thumbs up her pantihose and humming. He always hummed when he was getting aroused. “Stop it, Jack!”
He laughed and kissed her neck. “Relax; one thing I'm not, is an exhibitionist.”
“Oh? And what was the elevator the other day?”
“Yeah,” Hideki chimed in, “what was the elevator the other day? Inquiring minds want to know.”
Raoul burst into snickers as Rachel spluttered and Jack laughed. “She touched my penis,” he said. “I couldn't stop her.”
“I only touched you because you put my hand on your crotch!” she wailed.
“Yeah, but I didn't make you rub.”
“Oooh, he's got you there, Rach.”
“You're not helping, Hideki.”
“I'm not trying to. Good God, if I'm lucky you two will finally have sex tonight, then I won't have to deal with Rachel's repressed tantrums at work.”
“You have repressed tantrums at work?” Jack asked with interest.
“No! Shut up!”
“Uh, Rachel, yes you do. For the last four months, you've been getting more and more uptight. Come to think of it,” Hideki mused, “the only times you've been relaxed have been the last few days. You know, after you stayed over at Jack's.”
“I'm going to kill you,” Rachel swore. “You are going to die, Hideki.”
“I want to know more about these tantrums,” Jack said as her friend howled with laughter. “Do you have any fantasies to go along with them?”
Rachel was about to start yelling when Hideki pulled up to the curb. “All right, all right, we're not teasing you any more. Get out.”
Rachel pushed her door open and stood up smoothly, running her hands over her hips and swishing her skirt a bit. The dress hugged her like a glove, with a low, cowled neckline and straps that crossed between her breasts and wrapped around her waist. The skirt, which hit her at mid-thigh, flared out slightly at her hips. It was backless, with only the straps looping over her shoulders and then back around her waist, and the heels she wore not only gave her an extra bit of height, but emphasised the curve of her legs. She'd pulled her hair into a medium-high ponytail and then curled it, and tossed said curls over her shoulder as she turned slightly to look back at Jack.
“Well?”
“I'm going to slit my wrists if you don't have sex with me tonight,” the dumb-struck man mumbled. He almost fell as he pulled himself out of the car, and Hideki laughed as he tossed the keys to the valet.
“I don't respond well to threats,” Rachel replied.
“You're a malicious tease.”
“And people are starting to stare. Let's go in.” Hideki looped one arm through Raoul's, the other through Rachel's, and winked at Jack. “I am a pimp tonight.”
“Yes, but you can't make Rachel scream like I can.”
“Jack!” Rachel hissed, glancing around. He shrugged with a grin as he finally got himself straightened up, then slid his arm around her waist and pulled her away from Hideki.
Raoul nodded at the officers at the door as they showed their I.D.'s, and made only a slight show of patting all three men down. They glanced into Rachel's small purse, then nodded them in and Hideki leaned against the podium just inside the door as he handed the doorman some money.
“That should cover all of us, Beto. And hey, keep it quiet for us, will you?”
The young man glanced at Rachel and Jack and nodded. “No problem. Have fun.”
“Great! Who wants a drink? Jack, you're allowed one beer every hour. Maude told me so.”
“Why does everyone assume I'm a violent drunk?” the man wondered aloud. “Alcohol makes me sleepy. Well, horny, too. But mostly sleepy.” He had his hand firmly at the small of Rachel's back as Hideki ordered them drinks.
Raoul chuckled. “Same here, but hey, Hideki's paying. We'll stay sober together.” He grinned at Jack, who obviously wasn't expecting this show of camaraderie and blinked back at him.
“Uh . . . sure. Sure.” His eyes traced the curve of Rachel's spine and his fingers curled, and he licked his lips as she turned back to him with a beer in one hand and something pink in the other. “What's that?” he asked before he took a swig of the beer.
“I don't know. A shot of Malibu coconut rum, pineapple juice, and a bit of grenadine. The bartender said some girl gets it all the time and loves it.” She swirled the little straw in the drink and took a sip, a pleased smile coming to her lips. “Oh, it's delicious. Want a taste?”
“Am I allowed?” he asked, but Hideki waved him ahead and he took a small sip with a frown. “I taste pineapple. And . . . a little coconut. It's a bit too sweet.” Then he looked at her lips and licked his own again, and Rachel laughed.
“Fine, here.” She took a drink from the glass itself, then leaned over and kissed Jack. He sighed and licked the moisture from her lips, pulling her closer. With her heels, she was only two inches shorter than him when he stood at his full height. “Is that better?” she asked after she'd pulled away.
Jack smiled. “Much better.” He turned his face suddenly, frowning. “Camera. I hate cameras.”
Rachel hugged his arm. “We knew it would happen. Just play nice, all right?”
“I always play nice,” Jack claimed as Rachel turned and followed Hideki deeper into the club. This first room was two storeys, and led into more dance rooms and also out to a patio area, which looked to have a pool in it.
Rachel turned and brought her lips close to his ear. “And trying to blow up Gotham was nice?”
“Well . . . yes,” Jack said, as if she ought to know. “It needed a shake-up.” He looked like he was about to say more, but kept his mouth shut before hooking his fingers into the lower straps of her dress as she turned away again and shook her head. “Oh, hey, I like this song.”
He paused, pulling Rachel back with him as he lingered in the second room. There was a railing that separated the dance floor from the walkway, and the two of them leaned against it while they sipped at their drinks. Hideki and Raoul were already on the dance floor, the low lighting gleaming in their dark hair. Rachel knew that Jack was relaxed simply because he was now curious about the club, looking this way and that, just watching the people. She put her hand between his shoulder blades and rubbed gently.
“Let me know if you need some air.”
He twitched slightly as her breath tickled his ear. “Sure, yeah.” Then he gulped down the last of his beer and glanced at Rachel. “Come on, let's dance.”
“Do you even know how?” Rachel asked as they set their empty drinks on the bar.
“Don't recall a time when I didn't. Trust me.”
“If you bust out into the Robot, Jack, I'm leaving.” That made him laugh as he pulled her against him, and to Rachel's surprise her lover could move to the beat, and quite well, at that. She wondered when the novelty of dancing would wear off for him, but Jack's interest held throughout the next few songs until Hideki came up and dragged them off to another room. This one was full of hip-hop and rap, but there was yet another room across from it that had pool tables in it. “Jack, pool!” Rachel told him excitedly. “Let's play in a bit.”
He was watching her hips undulate to the beat and just nodded absently. Then he glanced over her shoulder and his eyes widened before he turned them both around.
“What's wrong?” Rachel asked.
“Uh, yeah, I know that guy.”
“Which one?” Rachel glanced in the mirrors along the wall, but it was apparently no one she herself knew.
Jack was scowling. “The nasty little queen drinking a Corona at the bar.”
“How do you know him?”
It was hard to tell, but Jack looked like he was turning red. “Uh, I slept with him a couple times.” Rachel stopped dancing and just stared at him. “Oh, trust me, you have no idea how sorry I am about that,” Jack told her as he took her hand and led her farther away from the bar. “I'd just got to Gotham, I was making connections, he's got good mob ties . . . it was a good idea at the time.” Then he shuddered. “Please don't yell at me. Pool?”
“I'm not going to yell at you,” Rachel told him. 'Not picky about the plumbing' had gotten his point across to be sure, but left it all rather vague in her mind. Now, however, she had a disturbingly good mental image of Jack in bed with another man --- and she didn't like it at all. Not that it was another man, but that it was Jack with anyone but her, especially a mobster. It didn't matter that it had been at least ten years ago; Rachel, who hadn't thought she had a jealous bone in her body, was suddenly on the verge of seeing red. “Just let me know if you see any more ex-boyfriends of yours.”
“Why, so you can kill them? Calm down,” he told her, taking her arms and rubbing his hands up and down them firmly. “Does it help that I never liked him?”
She paused as she looked for quarters in her purse, then smiled up at him. “Yeah.” He kissed her nose and she laughed. “Got 'em. Let's play pool.”
~
“And that's why,” Jack was saying a couple of games later, “it's very important to know the difference between potassium nitrite, and potassium nitrate. One goes boom, the other fizzles.” Rachel was laughing as he leaned over to take his shot, chewing on his scars as he frowned at the balls. “Now, I very patiently explained the difference to the girl, and Charles was very understanding, but still. You don't have to be me to know which chemicals explode; it's simple chemistry.” He scowled when he missed the shot and straightened.
“Corner pocket,” Rachel said, pointing. She leaned over and took aim, wiggling her shoulders for Jack's benefit. He made a choked noise and she grinned. She'd beaten him every game, and she wasn't even that good at pool. “And . . . I am awesome!”
He shook his head and tossed the his pool cue onto the table. “I give up. I need another beer.”
Rachel laughed and handed him a five before kissing his cheek. “I'm sorry, sweety. I'm going to be outside for a bit, all right?”
He hugged her tightly. “Sure. I'll be in here, drowning my sorrows.”
“With one beer. Good luck.” She meeped when he smacked her rear, and shot him a flirtatious look over her shoulder as she pushed the patio doors open to the blessedly cool night air.
Jack took a seat at the bar and had finished about a quarter of it when someone took the seat to his left, bumping his chair as they did so. He grunted softly, but ignored them until they spoke up.
“Well, if it isn't Jack. Long time no see! How are you, darling?”
He rolled his eyes at the nasally falsetto and didn't turn around. “Just fine, Maury.”
The smaller man leaned in, tapping his manicured fingers on the bar. “I see you're playing with pussy these days.”
“Don't see how it's any of your business. Just wanna finish my beer.” He took another gulp, mentally rearranging the alcohol bottles on display. Largest to smallest and smallest to largest, starting with the whites, moving to the reds, and ending with the violets and blacks.
“We've missed you, honey,” Maury cooed. “We figured it wouldn't be long until you got back with us, after you got that shrink to let you out of Arkham. But it looks like you've gone completely legit.”
“Hey, I saw your cousin in there, Sammi? Yeah, he hanged himself. Which is what you should do, Maury. I don't want trouble, I just want to finish my drink in peace. Got it?”
Maury's laugh was as scratchy and irritating as ever. “Oh, whatcha gonna do about it? You're all reformed now, I hear, dicking the D.A. and everything. Gonna sic her on me?”
Jack straightened and tilted his head toward Maury, rolling his eyes up to look at the man. It was a gesture he hadn't used in ten years. “You still slumming it in the Narrows, Maury?” he asked quietly. “Because I remember where you used to live. Hey, with just a little effort, I could find you and the rest of your disease-infested cronies, and it would tickle me pink to make your lives living hells. I wouldn't even need to call the police.” He swallowed the last of his beer and set it down with a thunk. “Do not fuck with me, Maury. Or Rachel, because if you do, I promise you that you'll regret it.” He turned in his chair and glared at the now-pale Maury. “And I always keep my word.”
“Everything all right, Jack?” Raoul asked as he leaned against the bar on the other side of Maury. The small man whipped around, whatever he'd been about to say dying on his lips as Raoul casually adjusted his suit jacket, which flashed not only his holstered gun, but also his badge.
“Ah . . . just saying hi to my ex,” Maury hissed, then shoved away from the bar.
Raoul watched him go, then turned back to Jack and raised an eyebrow. “Bitch knows how to hold a grudge.”
“Mm.” Jack turned back around and fiddled with his now-empty beer. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Thanks for keeping quiet about Hideki.”
Jack shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? 'Oh, look, a flaming fag just walked in to keep me from being convicted of murdering my wife! Help, a gay man!' Wasn't in my best interest to out him. And I really don't care either way, so I don't need to be thanked.”
“We appreciate it, though.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Sure.” After a moment he turned to the younger man. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.” Raoul smiled a little bashfully. “I'm just a baby.”
“At least you know,” was the return.
“You don't know how old you are?”
He shook his head. “Early to mid thirties, I think. Harleen --- my wife --- and I tried to figure it out once, and I can remember back about twenty five or thirty years. So somewhere in there.”
“Wow. I'm sorry.” Jack shrugged, and Raoul hesitated a moment. “Was he serious? About being your ex, I mean.”
The once-criminal rapped his knuckles on the bar before glancing at the policeman. “He's Maury Moskowitz. Also goes by Maureen. He works for the mob and I can give you his old address in the Narrows; I don't know if he still lives there or not.” Then he shifted in his seat. “And I wouldn't call him my 'ex,' really. Slept with him a few times to get mob connections when I got to Gotham.”
“Oh. Well, now you have police connections if he starts harassing you.”
The older man snorted. “Right. Half your officers used to be on my payroll. Still, thank you,” he added when Raoul stiffened. “Might come in handy.” Then his gaze drifted outside and he stood up, pushing his way through the crowd. “Shit . . .”
“Ms. Dawes?”
Rachel turned at her name and smiled at the small woman who had spoken. “Yes?”
The woman smiled back, brushing her black hair behind her shoulders and holding her hand out. “I'm Anita Bentley; I'm a freelance journalist. Look, I know you're here to enjoy yourself, but if I could just get a couple minutes of your time, a quote even, it would really help me out.” Her grip was firm, but she wasn't trying to crush Rachel's hand.
Rachel considered the sparkling blue eyes in front of her and shrugged. She couldn't rely on others to give all the interviews, and Jack was still inside, talking with Raoul. “Sure.”
“Is there a quieter place we can go?” Anita asked as she took a pen and pad of paper out. “I mean, here is fine, but it's not very private.”
Suddenly Jack was right beside her, his hand gripping her arm tightly. “Rachel, come here.” He gestured inside with his eyes, staring hard at Rachel. “It's important.”
Anita's lip curled slightly as Rachel turned back to her. “I'm sorry, Ms. Bentley. Not tonight.” Jack was already dragging her inside, and then she pulled away from him. “What is wrong, Jack?”
He grabbed her arm again, pulling her out to the techno music of the very first dance floor as Raoul followed them closely. “Do not go near that woman,” he growled in her ear. He tightened his grip on her arm when she started to protest. “I mean it, Rachel. Run the hell away if you ever see her again. She's a killer.”
“What? That little thing?”
His brown eyes were serious as they moved to the beat. “I don't know if she's a bounty hunter or works for the mob or what, but I know a killer when I see one, Rachel, and I promise you she was trying to get you alone.”
“What name did she give you?” Raoul asked over her shoulder. His hands were on her hips, overlapping Jack's, and if Rachel hadn't been so bewildered it might have turned her on a bit.
“Ah, Anita Bentley.”
“Probably a fake, but I'll run it tomorrow.”
Jack frowned down at her. “You're not going anywhere alone for the rest of the night. Got it?”
The dance floor was getting more and more crowded, pushing the three of them together and Rachel nodded. “Trust me, it's no problem.” It could have just been over protectiveness on Jack's part, coupled with slight agitation from seeing that man he'd known, but Rachel wasn't willing to bet on it. She turned in Jack's arms, pressing back against him and swaying into a slight crouch before sliding back up his body, and his hands tightened on her waist.
“Tease,” he growled in her ear as Hideki pushed his way up to them.
“You three are so hot,” he gasped out, eyes crossing a little. “I'm a little drunk. Rachel! Drink this!”
He'd brought her another drink and with Jack a steady force behind her, she managed not to spill, even when Hideki put his hand up to make her drink it all in one go. Then she gulped for air.
“Jerk.”
“I love you, Rachel!” Hideki exclaimed, sliding between her and Raoul and holding the man close to him.
The crowd pushed them apart, but Rachel didn't mind letting Hideki and Raoul have their space. She did, however, find herself facing one of those men who were obviously looking to pick up on the straight women at the club, and he grinned down at her as he moved closer. She pressed back against Jack as he reached for her waist, and Jack swung her out of the way with a solid glare. Realising whose girl he'd tried to move in on, the man went pale and stumbled backward, pushing his way off of the dance floor. Jack lowered his head to Rachel's neck, holding her tightly as they moved. She didn't mind; his knee between her legs was providing excellent friction.
Jack started to get a headache a while later, and since none of the men with her were willing to let her walk him home, all four left Faces early. Jack lay down in the back seat with his head in Rachel's lap as she massaged his temples.
“Jack's my very best . . . best . . . he's my very best,” she said suddenly.
Hideki, who had forced more drinks on her, found that hilarious from the front seat, and Raoul just nodded. Jack himself just groaned.
“No, really, he is,” Rachel insisted. She was feeling very chatty all of a sudden, and curled some of Jack's hair around her fingers as they tingled. “He's my, he's my favourite.”
“Favourite what?” was the muttered question.
“Everything!” Rachel giggled and her eyes crossed, and the tilting sensation that gave her made her laugh again.
“Hideki,” Jack growled, “I hope you know I promised not to have sex with Rachel if she was drunk. I want you to know that I hate you with a burning passion at the moment.”
“What?!” Rachel exclaimed. “No nookie tonight?! Oh, Jack, see? You're the best! Not taking advantage of me in my tipsy --- not drunken, tipsy --- state!” She leaned down and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, smearing her lipstick with a grin.
“I hate you, Hideki,” he groaned.
“I'm hungry!” Hideki responded.
“Me, too!” was Rachel's enthusiastic reply. “Let's get some food!”
“No,” Raoul and Jack both said firmly. “Jack's got a two o'clock curfew tonight,” Raoul went on soothingly as the two intoxicated ones started whining.
“And work in the morning. Why we went out on a Sunday, I'll ---”
“Sunday waaaas, a day of reeeest,” Rachel crooned. “Now it's one more daaay, for, pro-greees . . .”
“I miss Mayyyyberry,” Hideki chimed in, “sittin' on the porch drinkin ice-cold cherry, Coke, watching the day go by . . .”
The two of them couldn't remember any more lyrics after that, so with a few more half-hearted la-la's, they lapsed into giggles. Raoul rolled his eyes as he pulled up to Jack's place.
“Is she going with you?”
“Yes!” Rachel cried as she cuddled Jack's head to her bosom again. He placed a kiss between her breasts and sat up as she clung to him.
“Guess so.”
“Can you get her upstairs all right?”
“I'll manage.” He pulled her out of the car and then leaned down to smile at Raoul. “Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”
The dark-complexioned man just smiled. “No problem. Hideki will pick her up in the morning. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” Jack considered Rachel as the car pulled away, then turned and hoisted her onto his back. She draped her arms over his shoulders and yawned.
“I'm sleepy, Jack.”
“Well, go to sleep.”
“Okay!” She was snoring softly by the time the elevator got to his floor.
~
Rachel didn't know what woke her, but she was suddenly wide awake, staring at Harleen's side of the bed. Jack usually obstructed her view of it, which meant he wasn't in the bed with her. She sat up after a moment and yawned before she heard him pacing around in the living room. He'd gotten her into an pair of his sweatpants and one of his tank-tops, and she smiled as she slid out of bed and padded to the door. It had been a good night, despite her last-minute drunkenness.
“Why are you up at four in the morning?” she asked as she peeked into the living room.
Jack jumped and whirled around, then flapped his hands as he scowled. “Can't sleep. I can not fucking sleep.” She went up and hugged him, but he pulled away. “Are you still drunk?”
Rachel laughed. “I've got a bit of a headache, but I don't think I'm drunk.”
“I don't believe it.” He snorted, disgusted, and went back to pacing. “I can't sleep. I slept for a bit, but then I couldn't.”
“Hey, hey,” Rachel called soothingly, placing herself in his path and hugging him again. “Let's go for a walk, then. I know you're not supposed to, but I'm the D.A., Jack. I can get away with it.” She smiled and sat, pulling her sneakers from under the couch. “Now come on.”
Jack stared at her for a moment before slipping his own pair on, and fidgeted until they were outside. He headed for the park, not paying attention to Rachel but for his hand grasping the sweatshirt he'd given her to wear. He was walking so fast the she almost had to jog to keep up with him, the cold air wonderful in her burning lungs by the time they'd reached the park. Rachel followed Jack in silence, content to just be there with him while he snarled silently and kicked at the ground, in a foul mood.
“What was that?”
He's stopped suddenly and she'd almost run into him. “What's what?”
“Listen.” Someone was crying, and Jack turned in that direction, heading toward the children's playground. Rachel followed, suddenly concerned, and when Jack stopped again he let his breath out in a long sigh. “Oh, Benny . . . Benny, Benny, Benny . . .”
She peeked around him and there was a man pinning a young woman against the fake rock wall that kids climbed on, a knife in one hand and her purse in the other. She was shaking her head, crying and pleading, but Rachel couldn't hear whatever it was he was demanding of her. She really didn't want to, in fact, and had stepped back when Jack put his hand on her arm.
“Rachel, stay here.” His voice was low and cracked slightly, and he chuckled. Rachel knew that laugh. She knew it and she didn't like it and she grabbed his arm, desperate to get him away.
“Jack, stop. Don't, Jack . . .”
He pushed her hands away as he hunched over slightly, his hair falling in his face. He didn't look at her. “Stay here, Rachel, and get that girl to safety when she's free.” She heard him lick his lips, and Rachel was terrified that between his irritation with his insomnia, his headache, and the trouble at the club, he was going to snap completely. She couldn't leave, though, and she couldn't get him to stop. Rachel was stuck.
“Hey there, Benny,” Jack said cheerfully, his voice unnaturally high.
The man gave a startled shout and whipped around, his knife at the girl's throat as she cried. “Who the fuck areyou?!” he demanded.
Rachel didn't have to see that demented grin on Jack's face; the way Benny stiffened said it all. “Don't tell me you don't rec-og-nise me, Benny,” Jack crooned. “I mean, you never saw me without my make-up but, heh, I'd think the scars would have given it a-way.”
“Shit, man, they said you was normal now!” The man was almost as terrified as the girl, as Rachel. “Don't come no closer, man! I'll slice her!”
“'Normal' is such a . . . relative word, Benny,” Jack continued, not stopping his slow advance. “And go ahead, kill her. I'll kill you if you do, though. I mean, it's been six years since I've killed someone, but I'm cer-tain I remember how.” He giggled, then stopped suddenly. “Let her go and you might not die tonight, Benny. If you hurt her any more, I promise you that I'll kill you.”
“Fuck, what can you do? You ain't armed!”
“I'm not?” Jack looked around at himself, perplexed. “No, I'm not.” His hand flung out and he grabbed Benny's wrist, and Rachel could hear it snap from where she stood. Benny screamed and dropped to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest as he cursed. “Hey, what do you know?” Jack asked brightly. “Now I am armed!” He shrieked with glee, grabbed the girl and flung her toward Rachel, then followed Benny as the thug tried to crawl away. The grinning man reached down and pulled him up by his hair. “Be-nny, Be-nny, Be-n-ny,” he sang as he slammed the man into the rock wall. “You're - an - ass, - and - now - you'll - payyy . . . Be-nny, Be-nny, Be-n-ny . . .”
Rachel pulled the whimpering girl close. “Jack! Stop it!” But this wasn't Jack. This was the Joker, and Rachel didn't know if he was going to snap out of it or not. She started edging the girl away, afraid to take her eyes off of the giggling man.
“Huh?” He looked up and around, not really seeing Rachel when his eyes passed over her. Benny was still trying to get away and Jack glanced at him before stomping on his good hand. The man howled and the Joker knelt down, jerking his head up, exposing his throat and whispering in his ear. Whatever he said, Benny nodded in frantic agreement to, then the Joker smashed his face into the wood chips and stood up, shuffling toward Rachel. He was absently wiping the knife off on his shirt, staring hard at the two women.
The girl whined and begged to be let go, struggling in Rachel's arms as he came to a stop in front of them, and Rachel took another step back. The Joker reached out and grabbed the girl's chin, pulling her out of Rachel's grasp and tracing the knife across her cheek lovingly.
“Now, look, Poppet,” he murmured, “this didn't happen, all right? Hey, hey, look at me, Poppet.” He forced her to meet his cold eyes and she nodded desperately. “This didn't happen. He slipped, you got the knife away, whatever, but I wasn't here, all right?” He leaned forward to murmur in her ear, “All right? Tell me you understand, Poppet.” He took a deep breath of her hair and closed his eyes, obviously enjoying her simmering fear.
“A, all right,” she whimpered, then the Joker let her go and she took off running.
He blinked after her for a moment, then turned and started shuffling away, singing what sounded like “New York, New York” under his breath. He was almost to the edge of the playground when Rachel started running toward him.
“Jack! Stop!”
He paused and tilted his head, then sniffed the air before he started to turn around. “I know that voice . . .” He narrowed his eyes at her and Rachel faltered, but forced herself not to stop until she had her hands on his shoulders. “That's not a good idea,” he growled.
“Fuck it,” Rachel snapped, shaking him. “Stop it! Just stop it! You don't need to do this, Jack, you don't need to be like this any more!” Tears were running down her face.
“I'll be however I feel like being,” she was told as he pushed her away. “Leave me alone.” He cupped her cheek gently and Rachel held onto his hand, then he shook her off again. “Leave me alone!” he bellowed.
“No!” Rachel yelled right back. She drew back her hand and smacked him as hard as she could. “You're not like this any more, Jack!”
“Stop calling me that!” He was trying to turn away but Rachel got in front of him, then he grabbed her and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her ear. “If you don't walk away right now, I can't guarantee your safety. Don't make me hurt you, Rachel.”
There was a familiar pleading note in his voice that gave Rachel hope, and she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “You're Jack Napier,” she told him stubbornly. “You're Jack Napier, damn it! You have a cat named Rory, who's as much of an asshole as you are! You think your neighbour hears voices! You know how to dance but don't remember learning, you've met my mother and she likes you, and you're the man I love!” Rachel was shaking him, trying desperately to snap him out of this nightmare, but all he was doing was snarling and pushing her away.
Her back hit a tree and he forced her to look up at him. “I tried to kill you,” he whispered in her ear. “I made your squeeze go crazy and take the law into his own hands. I blew up a fucking hospital, and the police department. Stay. Away. From. Me. I don't want to hurt you, Rachel.”
Rachel could see him slipping away from her even as he tried to save her, and she burst into fresh tears, shaking her head in denial of the change coming over her lover. “Jack, please, let's just go home. Please, Jack.”
He whirled back to her. “Do you want to know how Harley really died?”
Before Rachel could do a thing, the Joker was pulled off of her and thrown onto the ground.
“Stay away from her!” Batman roared at him, advancing as the Joker sat up and rubbed his head.
“Stop!” Rachel screamed, grabbing Bruce's arm. “You'll make him worse!” She was shaken off like she was nothing as the Joker started screaming with laughter.
“Batsy! I missed you! Let's play!”
“You're going back to Arkham,” Bruce snarled, “and you're never going to get out.”
“Good,” the prone man hissed. He was crab-walking backwards, trying to get enough room to stand. “What, you think Rachel's just gonna fall into your arms after this? Swoon over you?”
“She'll never be safe with you around, Joker. I knew you hadn't changed.” Bruce reached for him and Rachel threw herself between the two, knocking the Joker back to the ground. “Rachel!”
“Stop it stop it stop it!” she wailed, beating on Jack's chest. “Give him back, you asshole!” She didn't know who was more surprised as her fist connected with his chin, the Joker or Batman. “Give me back the man I love!”
“Harvey's dead,” he snapped.
“I'm not talking about Harvey and you know it!” Rachel screamed at him, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him desperately. He flailed a bit, but didn't push her off. “Give me Jack! I want Jack, fucker! Give him back now!” She hit him again, as hard as he could, and his head snapped to the side. When he looked back at her, finally, finally Rachel could see the struggle on his face. “If you don't give me Jack,” she growled, “I'm going to throw you in Arkham myself. You'll never see me, never hear about me, and I swear I'll marry Batman and we'll live happily ever fucking after!” She was babbling, but Rachel couldn't let Jack go, couldn't let the Joker come back and take him over.
“Kill me.”
It was sudden, and said in a normal voice, and Rachel paused. “What?”
Jack's eyes looked back at her, warm and brown and full of sorrow. “Kill me. Please, Rachel, I don't want to do this any more . . .” He sat up and leaned his head against her shoulder. “Just kill me and be done with it.”
“Fuck you,” Rachel snarled. He drew back in surprise. “Fuck you and your narcissistic, pompous, self-centred ego! Why do you want to leave me alone, Jack? How could you do that? I didn't work this hard just to have you give up!” She smacked him again, then whipped around to Batman. “And you! You knew that interfering would make him worse and you did it anyway!”
“Rachel, I ---”
“He was trying to help you,” Jack interrupted.
“What?”
“What?”
His lips twitched. “I know, I'm taking his side. He was trying to help, Rachel. I might have hurt you.”
“You were trying not to, Jack.”
“But I wanted to.” He pushed Rachel gently off of his lap and then stood slowly, wincing, and helped Rachel up. “I can't keep breaking down after a tense evening, Rachel.” He sighed and looked at her wearily. “If I tell you to go with Batsy, you're not going to, are you?”
She raised her chin. “No, I'm not.”
“I didn't think so.”
“Rachel, he's not safe. Come with me, I'll ---”
“Shut up.” Bruce shut up and Rachel focused on Jack. “My birthday party's next month. You haven't wished me a happy birthday yet. You haven't given me my birthday present.” She walked closer with every sentence, reaching her arms out to him and holding him close. “You haven't asked Mom's permission to marry me. You haven't proposed to me. We haven't had children.” There were tears in her eyes as she gaze up at Jack, running her fingers along his scars even as he flinched. “There is so much that you haven't done yet, Jack. So much. You can't die, and I can't lose another person I love.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and looked at Bruce, still watching them silently. “Please,” Rachel whispered. “Please.”
Bruce's fists clenched as Jack's arms slowly wrapped around her waist. He watched Jack break down into tears, watched Rachel comfort him, and then he turned and walked away.
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: R
Warnings: Violence! Be scared!
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: A rehabilitated Jack Napier is brought into police custody after his wife of four years, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, falls to her death from their apartment. The only ones who seem to be on his side are Gordon and Rachel, who are haunted by the fact that 'rehabilitated' doesn't always mean 'cured'.
Notes: I've slipped a few references to other fics into "Speak," some of them serious and some (probably most) of them humourous. If you see something that sounds like I got it from a fic you wrote, I promise you that I'm poking the good kind of fun, not the bad kind.
Previous chapters:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11* Adult themes, 12
“You know,” Hideki murmured as he rolled his window down, “I hadn't considered that the press might follow us out tonight.”
Raoul was in the passenger seat, and Rachel and Jack were sitting in the back seat. “We don't have to go with you two,” Rachel said.
“No, I want us to go out; you two need to have some fun. I mean, if a dance club is your idea of fun.” He raised his eyebrows at them in the rear-view mirror.
“I talked with the officers on duty there,” Raoul offered. “They said they'd crack down on any paparazzi, but they couldn't guarantee no one's going to snap a picture and sell it.”
“Is this going to be a problem for you two?” Rachel asked. Neither of them were out at work.
Hideki shrugged. “Did you know that Faces was voted the best place to meet straight singles in Gotham?” he asked. “I'm serious, it was. Straight women go there because they know most of the men are gay and aren't going to try to get in their pants. So naturally, because all men are horny pigs, straight men go there and pretend to be gay in hopes of getting laid. Do you know how often I've heard the 'I've never felt this way about a woman before' line?” He rolled his eyes. “Pigs, all of them.”
“Just the straight ones?” Rachel asked.
“Oh, no, men in general.” He grinned back at her. “I'd heard women talk about how obvious men are when they're hitting on you, but it wasn't until I was in my first gay bar that I realised how true that is. I mean, wow. We're not subtle creatures.”
“I won't deny it,” Jack said as he deliberately lifted Rachel's skirt. She laughed and smacked his hands away. He still hadn't seen her full outfit, but from the way he kept staring at her cleavage, his brain was going to ooze out his ears once she got out of the car.
“Will you be all right in there, with all those people?” Raoul asked.
Jack shrugged. “I don't think I'll notice anyone but Rachel, really. I mean, you and Hideki look good, but . . . my God, Rachel's breasts are particularly magnificent tonight.”
“You're an atheist,” Hideki and Rachel said at the same time, then laughed. Jack rolled his eyes, resting his hand on Rachel's knee.
“I'm serious, Jack.”
“So am I.” He shrugged again. “If it starts to be too much, I'll let you know.”
“So, what if someone wants to dance with Rachel?” Hideki put in.
Jack was quiet for a while. “I don't want you dancing with anyone but me,” he told Rachel in a low voice. “But I won't make a fuss so long as they keep their hands to themselves.”
“Don't worry,” Rachel told him with a roll of her eyes, “you're the only one allowed to dry-hump me.”
“Damn it!” Hideki snapped. “I was hoping for a turn, too!”
Jack considered the lawyer, then smirked. “Eh, sure, the fag can dry-hump you, too.”
“I'm only a fag because I'm smoking hot,” the younger man laughed.
“I don't want Hideki dry-humping me!” Rachel protested.
“Right, she just wants you to,” Raoul put in.
“You're right, all men are pigs!” she exclaimed, then hit Jack's shoulder when he went for her skirt again, rubbing his thumbs up her pantihose and humming. He always hummed when he was getting aroused. “Stop it, Jack!”
He laughed and kissed her neck. “Relax; one thing I'm not, is an exhibitionist.”
“Oh? And what was the elevator the other day?”
“Yeah,” Hideki chimed in, “what was the elevator the other day? Inquiring minds want to know.”
Raoul burst into snickers as Rachel spluttered and Jack laughed. “She touched my penis,” he said. “I couldn't stop her.”
“I only touched you because you put my hand on your crotch!” she wailed.
“Yeah, but I didn't make you rub.”
“Oooh, he's got you there, Rach.”
“You're not helping, Hideki.”
“I'm not trying to. Good God, if I'm lucky you two will finally have sex tonight, then I won't have to deal with Rachel's repressed tantrums at work.”
“You have repressed tantrums at work?” Jack asked with interest.
“No! Shut up!”
“Uh, Rachel, yes you do. For the last four months, you've been getting more and more uptight. Come to think of it,” Hideki mused, “the only times you've been relaxed have been the last few days. You know, after you stayed over at Jack's.”
“I'm going to kill you,” Rachel swore. “You are going to die, Hideki.”
“I want to know more about these tantrums,” Jack said as her friend howled with laughter. “Do you have any fantasies to go along with them?”
Rachel was about to start yelling when Hideki pulled up to the curb. “All right, all right, we're not teasing you any more. Get out.”
Rachel pushed her door open and stood up smoothly, running her hands over her hips and swishing her skirt a bit. The dress hugged her like a glove, with a low, cowled neckline and straps that crossed between her breasts and wrapped around her waist. The skirt, which hit her at mid-thigh, flared out slightly at her hips. It was backless, with only the straps looping over her shoulders and then back around her waist, and the heels she wore not only gave her an extra bit of height, but emphasised the curve of her legs. She'd pulled her hair into a medium-high ponytail and then curled it, and tossed said curls over her shoulder as she turned slightly to look back at Jack.
“Well?”
“I'm going to slit my wrists if you don't have sex with me tonight,” the dumb-struck man mumbled. He almost fell as he pulled himself out of the car, and Hideki laughed as he tossed the keys to the valet.
“I don't respond well to threats,” Rachel replied.
“You're a malicious tease.”
“And people are starting to stare. Let's go in.” Hideki looped one arm through Raoul's, the other through Rachel's, and winked at Jack. “I am a pimp tonight.”
“Yes, but you can't make Rachel scream like I can.”
“Jack!” Rachel hissed, glancing around. He shrugged with a grin as he finally got himself straightened up, then slid his arm around her waist and pulled her away from Hideki.
Raoul nodded at the officers at the door as they showed their I.D.'s, and made only a slight show of patting all three men down. They glanced into Rachel's small purse, then nodded them in and Hideki leaned against the podium just inside the door as he handed the doorman some money.
“That should cover all of us, Beto. And hey, keep it quiet for us, will you?”
The young man glanced at Rachel and Jack and nodded. “No problem. Have fun.”
“Great! Who wants a drink? Jack, you're allowed one beer every hour. Maude told me so.”
“Why does everyone assume I'm a violent drunk?” the man wondered aloud. “Alcohol makes me sleepy. Well, horny, too. But mostly sleepy.” He had his hand firmly at the small of Rachel's back as Hideki ordered them drinks.
Raoul chuckled. “Same here, but hey, Hideki's paying. We'll stay sober together.” He grinned at Jack, who obviously wasn't expecting this show of camaraderie and blinked back at him.
“Uh . . . sure. Sure.” His eyes traced the curve of Rachel's spine and his fingers curled, and he licked his lips as she turned back to him with a beer in one hand and something pink in the other. “What's that?” he asked before he took a swig of the beer.
“I don't know. A shot of Malibu coconut rum, pineapple juice, and a bit of grenadine. The bartender said some girl gets it all the time and loves it.” She swirled the little straw in the drink and took a sip, a pleased smile coming to her lips. “Oh, it's delicious. Want a taste?”
“Am I allowed?” he asked, but Hideki waved him ahead and he took a small sip with a frown. “I taste pineapple. And . . . a little coconut. It's a bit too sweet.” Then he looked at her lips and licked his own again, and Rachel laughed.
“Fine, here.” She took a drink from the glass itself, then leaned over and kissed Jack. He sighed and licked the moisture from her lips, pulling her closer. With her heels, she was only two inches shorter than him when he stood at his full height. “Is that better?” she asked after she'd pulled away.
Jack smiled. “Much better.” He turned his face suddenly, frowning. “Camera. I hate cameras.”
Rachel hugged his arm. “We knew it would happen. Just play nice, all right?”
“I always play nice,” Jack claimed as Rachel turned and followed Hideki deeper into the club. This first room was two storeys, and led into more dance rooms and also out to a patio area, which looked to have a pool in it.
Rachel turned and brought her lips close to his ear. “And trying to blow up Gotham was nice?”
“Well . . . yes,” Jack said, as if she ought to know. “It needed a shake-up.” He looked like he was about to say more, but kept his mouth shut before hooking his fingers into the lower straps of her dress as she turned away again and shook her head. “Oh, hey, I like this song.”
He paused, pulling Rachel back with him as he lingered in the second room. There was a railing that separated the dance floor from the walkway, and the two of them leaned against it while they sipped at their drinks. Hideki and Raoul were already on the dance floor, the low lighting gleaming in their dark hair. Rachel knew that Jack was relaxed simply because he was now curious about the club, looking this way and that, just watching the people. She put her hand between his shoulder blades and rubbed gently.
“Let me know if you need some air.”
He twitched slightly as her breath tickled his ear. “Sure, yeah.” Then he gulped down the last of his beer and glanced at Rachel. “Come on, let's dance.”
“Do you even know how?” Rachel asked as they set their empty drinks on the bar.
“Don't recall a time when I didn't. Trust me.”
“If you bust out into the Robot, Jack, I'm leaving.” That made him laugh as he pulled her against him, and to Rachel's surprise her lover could move to the beat, and quite well, at that. She wondered when the novelty of dancing would wear off for him, but Jack's interest held throughout the next few songs until Hideki came up and dragged them off to another room. This one was full of hip-hop and rap, but there was yet another room across from it that had pool tables in it. “Jack, pool!” Rachel told him excitedly. “Let's play in a bit.”
He was watching her hips undulate to the beat and just nodded absently. Then he glanced over her shoulder and his eyes widened before he turned them both around.
“What's wrong?” Rachel asked.
“Uh, yeah, I know that guy.”
“Which one?” Rachel glanced in the mirrors along the wall, but it was apparently no one she herself knew.
Jack was scowling. “The nasty little queen drinking a Corona at the bar.”
“How do you know him?”
It was hard to tell, but Jack looked like he was turning red. “Uh, I slept with him a couple times.” Rachel stopped dancing and just stared at him. “Oh, trust me, you have no idea how sorry I am about that,” Jack told her as he took her hand and led her farther away from the bar. “I'd just got to Gotham, I was making connections, he's got good mob ties . . . it was a good idea at the time.” Then he shuddered. “Please don't yell at me. Pool?”
“I'm not going to yell at you,” Rachel told him. 'Not picky about the plumbing' had gotten his point across to be sure, but left it all rather vague in her mind. Now, however, she had a disturbingly good mental image of Jack in bed with another man --- and she didn't like it at all. Not that it was another man, but that it was Jack with anyone but her, especially a mobster. It didn't matter that it had been at least ten years ago; Rachel, who hadn't thought she had a jealous bone in her body, was suddenly on the verge of seeing red. “Just let me know if you see any more ex-boyfriends of yours.”
“Why, so you can kill them? Calm down,” he told her, taking her arms and rubbing his hands up and down them firmly. “Does it help that I never liked him?”
She paused as she looked for quarters in her purse, then smiled up at him. “Yeah.” He kissed her nose and she laughed. “Got 'em. Let's play pool.”
~
“And that's why,” Jack was saying a couple of games later, “it's very important to know the difference between potassium nitrite, and potassium nitrate. One goes boom, the other fizzles.” Rachel was laughing as he leaned over to take his shot, chewing on his scars as he frowned at the balls. “Now, I very patiently explained the difference to the girl, and Charles was very understanding, but still. You don't have to be me to know which chemicals explode; it's simple chemistry.” He scowled when he missed the shot and straightened.
“Corner pocket,” Rachel said, pointing. She leaned over and took aim, wiggling her shoulders for Jack's benefit. He made a choked noise and she grinned. She'd beaten him every game, and she wasn't even that good at pool. “And . . . I am awesome!”
He shook his head and tossed the his pool cue onto the table. “I give up. I need another beer.”
Rachel laughed and handed him a five before kissing his cheek. “I'm sorry, sweety. I'm going to be outside for a bit, all right?”
He hugged her tightly. “Sure. I'll be in here, drowning my sorrows.”
“With one beer. Good luck.” She meeped when he smacked her rear, and shot him a flirtatious look over her shoulder as she pushed the patio doors open to the blessedly cool night air.
Jack took a seat at the bar and had finished about a quarter of it when someone took the seat to his left, bumping his chair as they did so. He grunted softly, but ignored them until they spoke up.
“Well, if it isn't Jack. Long time no see! How are you, darling?”
He rolled his eyes at the nasally falsetto and didn't turn around. “Just fine, Maury.”
The smaller man leaned in, tapping his manicured fingers on the bar. “I see you're playing with pussy these days.”
“Don't see how it's any of your business. Just wanna finish my beer.” He took another gulp, mentally rearranging the alcohol bottles on display. Largest to smallest and smallest to largest, starting with the whites, moving to the reds, and ending with the violets and blacks.
“We've missed you, honey,” Maury cooed. “We figured it wouldn't be long until you got back with us, after you got that shrink to let you out of Arkham. But it looks like you've gone completely legit.”
“Hey, I saw your cousin in there, Sammi? Yeah, he hanged himself. Which is what you should do, Maury. I don't want trouble, I just want to finish my drink in peace. Got it?”
Maury's laugh was as scratchy and irritating as ever. “Oh, whatcha gonna do about it? You're all reformed now, I hear, dicking the D.A. and everything. Gonna sic her on me?”
Jack straightened and tilted his head toward Maury, rolling his eyes up to look at the man. It was a gesture he hadn't used in ten years. “You still slumming it in the Narrows, Maury?” he asked quietly. “Because I remember where you used to live. Hey, with just a little effort, I could find you and the rest of your disease-infested cronies, and it would tickle me pink to make your lives living hells. I wouldn't even need to call the police.” He swallowed the last of his beer and set it down with a thunk. “Do not fuck with me, Maury. Or Rachel, because if you do, I promise you that you'll regret it.” He turned in his chair and glared at the now-pale Maury. “And I always keep my word.”
“Everything all right, Jack?” Raoul asked as he leaned against the bar on the other side of Maury. The small man whipped around, whatever he'd been about to say dying on his lips as Raoul casually adjusted his suit jacket, which flashed not only his holstered gun, but also his badge.
“Ah . . . just saying hi to my ex,” Maury hissed, then shoved away from the bar.
Raoul watched him go, then turned back to Jack and raised an eyebrow. “Bitch knows how to hold a grudge.”
“Mm.” Jack turned back around and fiddled with his now-empty beer. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Thanks for keeping quiet about Hideki.”
Jack shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? 'Oh, look, a flaming fag just walked in to keep me from being convicted of murdering my wife! Help, a gay man!' Wasn't in my best interest to out him. And I really don't care either way, so I don't need to be thanked.”
“We appreciate it, though.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Sure.” After a moment he turned to the younger man. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.” Raoul smiled a little bashfully. “I'm just a baby.”
“At least you know,” was the return.
“You don't know how old you are?”
He shook his head. “Early to mid thirties, I think. Harleen --- my wife --- and I tried to figure it out once, and I can remember back about twenty five or thirty years. So somewhere in there.”
“Wow. I'm sorry.” Jack shrugged, and Raoul hesitated a moment. “Was he serious? About being your ex, I mean.”
The once-criminal rapped his knuckles on the bar before glancing at the policeman. “He's Maury Moskowitz. Also goes by Maureen. He works for the mob and I can give you his old address in the Narrows; I don't know if he still lives there or not.” Then he shifted in his seat. “And I wouldn't call him my 'ex,' really. Slept with him a few times to get mob connections when I got to Gotham.”
“Oh. Well, now you have police connections if he starts harassing you.”
The older man snorted. “Right. Half your officers used to be on my payroll. Still, thank you,” he added when Raoul stiffened. “Might come in handy.” Then his gaze drifted outside and he stood up, pushing his way through the crowd. “Shit . . .”
“Ms. Dawes?”
Rachel turned at her name and smiled at the small woman who had spoken. “Yes?”
The woman smiled back, brushing her black hair behind her shoulders and holding her hand out. “I'm Anita Bentley; I'm a freelance journalist. Look, I know you're here to enjoy yourself, but if I could just get a couple minutes of your time, a quote even, it would really help me out.” Her grip was firm, but she wasn't trying to crush Rachel's hand.
Rachel considered the sparkling blue eyes in front of her and shrugged. She couldn't rely on others to give all the interviews, and Jack was still inside, talking with Raoul. “Sure.”
“Is there a quieter place we can go?” Anita asked as she took a pen and pad of paper out. “I mean, here is fine, but it's not very private.”
Suddenly Jack was right beside her, his hand gripping her arm tightly. “Rachel, come here.” He gestured inside with his eyes, staring hard at Rachel. “It's important.”
Anita's lip curled slightly as Rachel turned back to her. “I'm sorry, Ms. Bentley. Not tonight.” Jack was already dragging her inside, and then she pulled away from him. “What is wrong, Jack?”
He grabbed her arm again, pulling her out to the techno music of the very first dance floor as Raoul followed them closely. “Do not go near that woman,” he growled in her ear. He tightened his grip on her arm when she started to protest. “I mean it, Rachel. Run the hell away if you ever see her again. She's a killer.”
“What? That little thing?”
His brown eyes were serious as they moved to the beat. “I don't know if she's a bounty hunter or works for the mob or what, but I know a killer when I see one, Rachel, and I promise you she was trying to get you alone.”
“What name did she give you?” Raoul asked over her shoulder. His hands were on her hips, overlapping Jack's, and if Rachel hadn't been so bewildered it might have turned her on a bit.
“Ah, Anita Bentley.”
“Probably a fake, but I'll run it tomorrow.”
Jack frowned down at her. “You're not going anywhere alone for the rest of the night. Got it?”
The dance floor was getting more and more crowded, pushing the three of them together and Rachel nodded. “Trust me, it's no problem.” It could have just been over protectiveness on Jack's part, coupled with slight agitation from seeing that man he'd known, but Rachel wasn't willing to bet on it. She turned in Jack's arms, pressing back against him and swaying into a slight crouch before sliding back up his body, and his hands tightened on her waist.
“Tease,” he growled in her ear as Hideki pushed his way up to them.
“You three are so hot,” he gasped out, eyes crossing a little. “I'm a little drunk. Rachel! Drink this!”
He'd brought her another drink and with Jack a steady force behind her, she managed not to spill, even when Hideki put his hand up to make her drink it all in one go. Then she gulped for air.
“Jerk.”
“I love you, Rachel!” Hideki exclaimed, sliding between her and Raoul and holding the man close to him.
The crowd pushed them apart, but Rachel didn't mind letting Hideki and Raoul have their space. She did, however, find herself facing one of those men who were obviously looking to pick up on the straight women at the club, and he grinned down at her as he moved closer. She pressed back against Jack as he reached for her waist, and Jack swung her out of the way with a solid glare. Realising whose girl he'd tried to move in on, the man went pale and stumbled backward, pushing his way off of the dance floor. Jack lowered his head to Rachel's neck, holding her tightly as they moved. She didn't mind; his knee between her legs was providing excellent friction.
Jack started to get a headache a while later, and since none of the men with her were willing to let her walk him home, all four left Faces early. Jack lay down in the back seat with his head in Rachel's lap as she massaged his temples.
“Jack's my very best . . . best . . . he's my very best,” she said suddenly.
Hideki, who had forced more drinks on her, found that hilarious from the front seat, and Raoul just nodded. Jack himself just groaned.
“No, really, he is,” Rachel insisted. She was feeling very chatty all of a sudden, and curled some of Jack's hair around her fingers as they tingled. “He's my, he's my favourite.”
“Favourite what?” was the muttered question.
“Everything!” Rachel giggled and her eyes crossed, and the tilting sensation that gave her made her laugh again.
“Hideki,” Jack growled, “I hope you know I promised not to have sex with Rachel if she was drunk. I want you to know that I hate you with a burning passion at the moment.”
“What?!” Rachel exclaimed. “No nookie tonight?! Oh, Jack, see? You're the best! Not taking advantage of me in my tipsy --- not drunken, tipsy --- state!” She leaned down and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, smearing her lipstick with a grin.
“I hate you, Hideki,” he groaned.
“I'm hungry!” Hideki responded.
“Me, too!” was Rachel's enthusiastic reply. “Let's get some food!”
“No,” Raoul and Jack both said firmly. “Jack's got a two o'clock curfew tonight,” Raoul went on soothingly as the two intoxicated ones started whining.
“And work in the morning. Why we went out on a Sunday, I'll ---”
“Sunday waaaas, a day of reeeest,” Rachel crooned. “Now it's one more daaay, for, pro-greees . . .”
“I miss Mayyyyberry,” Hideki chimed in, “sittin' on the porch drinkin ice-cold cherry, Coke, watching the day go by . . .”
The two of them couldn't remember any more lyrics after that, so with a few more half-hearted la-la's, they lapsed into giggles. Raoul rolled his eyes as he pulled up to Jack's place.
“Is she going with you?”
“Yes!” Rachel cried as she cuddled Jack's head to her bosom again. He placed a kiss between her breasts and sat up as she clung to him.
“Guess so.”
“Can you get her upstairs all right?”
“I'll manage.” He pulled her out of the car and then leaned down to smile at Raoul. “Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”
The dark-complexioned man just smiled. “No problem. Hideki will pick her up in the morning. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” Jack considered Rachel as the car pulled away, then turned and hoisted her onto his back. She draped her arms over his shoulders and yawned.
“I'm sleepy, Jack.”
“Well, go to sleep.”
“Okay!” She was snoring softly by the time the elevator got to his floor.
~
Rachel didn't know what woke her, but she was suddenly wide awake, staring at Harleen's side of the bed. Jack usually obstructed her view of it, which meant he wasn't in the bed with her. She sat up after a moment and yawned before she heard him pacing around in the living room. He'd gotten her into an pair of his sweatpants and one of his tank-tops, and she smiled as she slid out of bed and padded to the door. It had been a good night, despite her last-minute drunkenness.
“Why are you up at four in the morning?” she asked as she peeked into the living room.
Jack jumped and whirled around, then flapped his hands as he scowled. “Can't sleep. I can not fucking sleep.” She went up and hugged him, but he pulled away. “Are you still drunk?”
Rachel laughed. “I've got a bit of a headache, but I don't think I'm drunk.”
“I don't believe it.” He snorted, disgusted, and went back to pacing. “I can't sleep. I slept for a bit, but then I couldn't.”
“Hey, hey,” Rachel called soothingly, placing herself in his path and hugging him again. “Let's go for a walk, then. I know you're not supposed to, but I'm the D.A., Jack. I can get away with it.” She smiled and sat, pulling her sneakers from under the couch. “Now come on.”
Jack stared at her for a moment before slipping his own pair on, and fidgeted until they were outside. He headed for the park, not paying attention to Rachel but for his hand grasping the sweatshirt he'd given her to wear. He was walking so fast the she almost had to jog to keep up with him, the cold air wonderful in her burning lungs by the time they'd reached the park. Rachel followed Jack in silence, content to just be there with him while he snarled silently and kicked at the ground, in a foul mood.
“What was that?”
He's stopped suddenly and she'd almost run into him. “What's what?”
“Listen.” Someone was crying, and Jack turned in that direction, heading toward the children's playground. Rachel followed, suddenly concerned, and when Jack stopped again he let his breath out in a long sigh. “Oh, Benny . . . Benny, Benny, Benny . . .”
She peeked around him and there was a man pinning a young woman against the fake rock wall that kids climbed on, a knife in one hand and her purse in the other. She was shaking her head, crying and pleading, but Rachel couldn't hear whatever it was he was demanding of her. She really didn't want to, in fact, and had stepped back when Jack put his hand on her arm.
“Rachel, stay here.” His voice was low and cracked slightly, and he chuckled. Rachel knew that laugh. She knew it and she didn't like it and she grabbed his arm, desperate to get him away.
“Jack, stop. Don't, Jack . . .”
He pushed her hands away as he hunched over slightly, his hair falling in his face. He didn't look at her. “Stay here, Rachel, and get that girl to safety when she's free.” She heard him lick his lips, and Rachel was terrified that between his irritation with his insomnia, his headache, and the trouble at the club, he was going to snap completely. She couldn't leave, though, and she couldn't get him to stop. Rachel was stuck.
“Hey there, Benny,” Jack said cheerfully, his voice unnaturally high.
The man gave a startled shout and whipped around, his knife at the girl's throat as she cried. “Who the fuck areyou?!” he demanded.
Rachel didn't have to see that demented grin on Jack's face; the way Benny stiffened said it all. “Don't tell me you don't rec-og-nise me, Benny,” Jack crooned. “I mean, you never saw me without my make-up but, heh, I'd think the scars would have given it a-way.”
“Shit, man, they said you was normal now!” The man was almost as terrified as the girl, as Rachel. “Don't come no closer, man! I'll slice her!”
“'Normal' is such a . . . relative word, Benny,” Jack continued, not stopping his slow advance. “And go ahead, kill her. I'll kill you if you do, though. I mean, it's been six years since I've killed someone, but I'm cer-tain I remember how.” He giggled, then stopped suddenly. “Let her go and you might not die tonight, Benny. If you hurt her any more, I promise you that I'll kill you.”
“Fuck, what can you do? You ain't armed!”
“I'm not?” Jack looked around at himself, perplexed. “No, I'm not.” His hand flung out and he grabbed Benny's wrist, and Rachel could hear it snap from where she stood. Benny screamed and dropped to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest as he cursed. “Hey, what do you know?” Jack asked brightly. “Now I am armed!” He shrieked with glee, grabbed the girl and flung her toward Rachel, then followed Benny as the thug tried to crawl away. The grinning man reached down and pulled him up by his hair. “Be-nny, Be-nny, Be-n-ny,” he sang as he slammed the man into the rock wall. “You're - an - ass, - and - now - you'll - payyy . . . Be-nny, Be-nny, Be-n-ny . . .”
Rachel pulled the whimpering girl close. “Jack! Stop it!” But this wasn't Jack. This was the Joker, and Rachel didn't know if he was going to snap out of it or not. She started edging the girl away, afraid to take her eyes off of the giggling man.
“Huh?” He looked up and around, not really seeing Rachel when his eyes passed over her. Benny was still trying to get away and Jack glanced at him before stomping on his good hand. The man howled and the Joker knelt down, jerking his head up, exposing his throat and whispering in his ear. Whatever he said, Benny nodded in frantic agreement to, then the Joker smashed his face into the wood chips and stood up, shuffling toward Rachel. He was absently wiping the knife off on his shirt, staring hard at the two women.
The girl whined and begged to be let go, struggling in Rachel's arms as he came to a stop in front of them, and Rachel took another step back. The Joker reached out and grabbed the girl's chin, pulling her out of Rachel's grasp and tracing the knife across her cheek lovingly.
“Now, look, Poppet,” he murmured, “this didn't happen, all right? Hey, hey, look at me, Poppet.” He forced her to meet his cold eyes and she nodded desperately. “This didn't happen. He slipped, you got the knife away, whatever, but I wasn't here, all right?” He leaned forward to murmur in her ear, “All right? Tell me you understand, Poppet.” He took a deep breath of her hair and closed his eyes, obviously enjoying her simmering fear.
“A, all right,” she whimpered, then the Joker let her go and she took off running.
He blinked after her for a moment, then turned and started shuffling away, singing what sounded like “New York, New York” under his breath. He was almost to the edge of the playground when Rachel started running toward him.
“Jack! Stop!”
He paused and tilted his head, then sniffed the air before he started to turn around. “I know that voice . . .” He narrowed his eyes at her and Rachel faltered, but forced herself not to stop until she had her hands on his shoulders. “That's not a good idea,” he growled.
“Fuck it,” Rachel snapped, shaking him. “Stop it! Just stop it! You don't need to do this, Jack, you don't need to be like this any more!” Tears were running down her face.
“I'll be however I feel like being,” she was told as he pushed her away. “Leave me alone.” He cupped her cheek gently and Rachel held onto his hand, then he shook her off again. “Leave me alone!” he bellowed.
“No!” Rachel yelled right back. She drew back her hand and smacked him as hard as she could. “You're not like this any more, Jack!”
“Stop calling me that!” He was trying to turn away but Rachel got in front of him, then he grabbed her and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her ear. “If you don't walk away right now, I can't guarantee your safety. Don't make me hurt you, Rachel.”
There was a familiar pleading note in his voice that gave Rachel hope, and she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “You're Jack Napier,” she told him stubbornly. “You're Jack Napier, damn it! You have a cat named Rory, who's as much of an asshole as you are! You think your neighbour hears voices! You know how to dance but don't remember learning, you've met my mother and she likes you, and you're the man I love!” Rachel was shaking him, trying desperately to snap him out of this nightmare, but all he was doing was snarling and pushing her away.
Her back hit a tree and he forced her to look up at him. “I tried to kill you,” he whispered in her ear. “I made your squeeze go crazy and take the law into his own hands. I blew up a fucking hospital, and the police department. Stay. Away. From. Me. I don't want to hurt you, Rachel.”
Rachel could see him slipping away from her even as he tried to save her, and she burst into fresh tears, shaking her head in denial of the change coming over her lover. “Jack, please, let's just go home. Please, Jack.”
He whirled back to her. “Do you want to know how Harley really died?”
Before Rachel could do a thing, the Joker was pulled off of her and thrown onto the ground.
“Stay away from her!” Batman roared at him, advancing as the Joker sat up and rubbed his head.
“Stop!” Rachel screamed, grabbing Bruce's arm. “You'll make him worse!” She was shaken off like she was nothing as the Joker started screaming with laughter.
“Batsy! I missed you! Let's play!”
“You're going back to Arkham,” Bruce snarled, “and you're never going to get out.”
“Good,” the prone man hissed. He was crab-walking backwards, trying to get enough room to stand. “What, you think Rachel's just gonna fall into your arms after this? Swoon over you?”
“She'll never be safe with you around, Joker. I knew you hadn't changed.” Bruce reached for him and Rachel threw herself between the two, knocking the Joker back to the ground. “Rachel!”
“Stop it stop it stop it!” she wailed, beating on Jack's chest. “Give him back, you asshole!” She didn't know who was more surprised as her fist connected with his chin, the Joker or Batman. “Give me back the man I love!”
“Harvey's dead,” he snapped.
“I'm not talking about Harvey and you know it!” Rachel screamed at him, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him desperately. He flailed a bit, but didn't push her off. “Give me Jack! I want Jack, fucker! Give him back now!” She hit him again, as hard as he could, and his head snapped to the side. When he looked back at her, finally, finally Rachel could see the struggle on his face. “If you don't give me Jack,” she growled, “I'm going to throw you in Arkham myself. You'll never see me, never hear about me, and I swear I'll marry Batman and we'll live happily ever fucking after!” She was babbling, but Rachel couldn't let Jack go, couldn't let the Joker come back and take him over.
“Kill me.”
It was sudden, and said in a normal voice, and Rachel paused. “What?”
Jack's eyes looked back at her, warm and brown and full of sorrow. “Kill me. Please, Rachel, I don't want to do this any more . . .” He sat up and leaned his head against her shoulder. “Just kill me and be done with it.”
“Fuck you,” Rachel snarled. He drew back in surprise. “Fuck you and your narcissistic, pompous, self-centred ego! Why do you want to leave me alone, Jack? How could you do that? I didn't work this hard just to have you give up!” She smacked him again, then whipped around to Batman. “And you! You knew that interfering would make him worse and you did it anyway!”
“Rachel, I ---”
“He was trying to help you,” Jack interrupted.
“What?”
“What?”
His lips twitched. “I know, I'm taking his side. He was trying to help, Rachel. I might have hurt you.”
“You were trying not to, Jack.”
“But I wanted to.” He pushed Rachel gently off of his lap and then stood slowly, wincing, and helped Rachel up. “I can't keep breaking down after a tense evening, Rachel.” He sighed and looked at her wearily. “If I tell you to go with Batsy, you're not going to, are you?”
She raised her chin. “No, I'm not.”
“I didn't think so.”
“Rachel, he's not safe. Come with me, I'll ---”
“Shut up.” Bruce shut up and Rachel focused on Jack. “My birthday party's next month. You haven't wished me a happy birthday yet. You haven't given me my birthday present.” She walked closer with every sentence, reaching her arms out to him and holding him close. “You haven't asked Mom's permission to marry me. You haven't proposed to me. We haven't had children.” There were tears in her eyes as she gaze up at Jack, running her fingers along his scars even as he flinched. “There is so much that you haven't done yet, Jack. So much. You can't die, and I can't lose another person I love.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and looked at Bruce, still watching them silently. “Please,” Rachel whispered. “Please.”
Bruce's fists clenched as Jack's arms slowly wrapped around her waist. He watched Jack break down into tears, watched Rachel comfort him, and then he turned and walked away.