First Chapter revised (added a few things here and there and fixed the spelling)
Also: did anyone else watch the Oscars? Brad Pitt passing out paper plates? Ellen in the Glinda costume? Anyone?
Thanks for reading! Please review/favorite/ I dunno... Have a slice of pie
~`the dance``~~~`` of the Disclaimer`~~`~
Cara POV:
I had 2 hours left in my shift. Just two. Not that long at all, well to me, who's thankful for every second. Apparently I'm the only one who thinks that 2 hours is no time, because for the next 2 hours, I had a small child following me around.
That small child was over 6 foot, scarred, and a psychopath.
He did EVERYTHING to annoy me, which I'm sure he found entertaining.
Like, breathing down my neck closely, like RIGHT THERE closely, asking questions incessantly. But somehow, like a seasoned mother, I ignored him for 2 hours. He would think of something to do, run off, then return 3 minutes later.
Why? He said he didn't want me to run out on him without him knowing again. And whatever he had been doing either A) didn't work or B) wasn't entertaining anymore.
Then, he told me, as I was stocking shelves and standing on a ladder, that I had "been a bad girl, and needed to be punished". He cackled when I turned bright red.
My coworker would check on me every now and again, but I just told him that The Joker, who I named Jack off the top of my head, was an old friend that I hadn't seen in ages. Flipping his pink hair, he went back into the stockroom to watch Rupaul's Dragrace.
As time went on, Joker got more and more impatient. I had to stop him from setting books on fire because "he was bored" and told him if he was so bored he could leave and never come back.
"No-ah wonder why people commit suicide all, all of the time. This, this is minD numbing," he groaned, stabbing a bookshelf repeatedly. I just ignored him while I put together a new book release display.
Twenty minutes later he was knocking my display over, and then running away with the steamers. I clocked out after that.
Joker POV:
Bored.
Bored...
So.
Fucking...
BORED!
I had already read Old Man in the Sea, and Cyrano de Bergerac by- well, I take that back, I SKIMMED Old Man in the Sea, and used a copy of Cyrano de Bergerac to make paper cranes by the time Golden Girl told me she had an hour and a HALF left in her shift.
What was I supposed to do!? She wasn't talking to me, and I'm no master of conversation myself, and I had NOTHING to do in this shop. They didn't even have a copy of Bomb-Making for Dummies.
What is a bored psychopath to do!?
Bored.
So I followed Golden Girl, 5 inches behind her, telling her that I wanted to leave, that I was bored, that if I had my way we'd be back in Gotham. But she was ignoring me.
When did she learn how to do that? I looked for that book for 5 minutes, turns out there IS no book called "How to ignore The Joker in 3 days!" Maybe the therapist sucked out her soul?
The almanac said nothing about therapists being vampires.
Or soul suckers.
An hour and fifteen minutes left...
While Golden Girl was stacking shelves, I stood next to her, watching her stretch and reach. Wow she really was short. Then I got an idea to get her riled up.
"You know, Sugar... You've been a bad girl... You should be punisshhed," I hissed, smirking at her. I cackled when she turned bright red, but was disappointed when she didn't retort.
An hour left...
Bored... bored...
Hey! Books are made of paper, paper burns!
Right before I could set Fahrenheit 451 on fire, Golden Girl snatched it out of my hands, hissing that I was acting like a child and if I wanted to do something I could leave and never see her again. Well THAT'S no fun!
53 minutes left...
"No-ah wonder why people commit suicide all, all of the time. This, this is minD numbing," I groaned, stabbing a bookshelf repeatedly, I was chipping Golden Girl's likeness into the wood. But she didn't appreciate my handiwork, said it looked like a giraffe.
I had to go back to the almanac. Yep. It's a giraffe.
46...
...
What the frick frack diddily dack patty wack snick snack crack pack slack mack quarterback crackerjack biofeedback backtrack thumbtack sidetrack tic-tac does she think she's doing...
Are those... steamers? What- why? "Super Saga Vampire Love Story 12"? Who names their book "Super Saga Vampire Love Story 12"!? I picked up a copy... is there really 11 BEFORE this one?!
By the time I finished reading the first chapter, my lovely companion was finished setting up the "display", and had moved on to new projects. I stared at the posters of the grinning, feminine looking vampire for precisely 18 minutes and 37 seconds before I kicked him in the face.
I've never got into a fight with a cardboard cutout, but let me tell you... they know how to throw a right hook.
Cara finally left after that, me trailing behind her, streamer still stuck to me.
I told you I always got what I wanted.
Normal POV:
Our unlikely companions set out for a nearby diner, one grumbling angrily, another whistling dixie. When they arrived at the door, the female counterpart stared at the door, glaring at the handle, her hands deep in her pockets.
"Somethin wrong Sugar?" her male compadre asked, leaning around to see her face.
"That door handle hasn't been cleaned in months, and I am NOT in the mood to feel other peop-"
"Jeeze! Alright, alrighT! If you wanted me to open the door for ya all ya had to do was ASK!"
And so the gentleman psychopath opened the door for the annoyed young woman, who was chewing a hole in her lip. She was still chewing when the hostess seated them, and as she skimmed through the menu. She didn't know what to do exactly.
Sitting parallel to her was a KNOWN murderer, arsonist and general crazy-guy, at a Denny's in southern California. And she was acting normal. How was this normal? Shouldn't she be calling the police? She should be, she should be running away, screaming, hiding, but instead, she contemplated getting the pancakes or the hamburger.
Conflict raged war in the woman's head, and stomach.
"Watcha gonna get Sugar?" the man asked, dropping his menu and scratching his cheek.
"You keep scratching and your mask will fall off, Darling," she retorted, not even looking up. The man stopped, and instead started to suck on the inside of his cheek.
To everyone else, these two looked like a normal couple out for dinner. Sure they looked like an odd couple, he stood a foot taller than her almost and their personalities didn't seem to mesh, but hey, love is a strange thing.
The woman never answered her companion, in fact, she all but ignored him, the lines on her forehead growing deeper and deeper as she thought harder and harder.
By the time their food arrived, the gentleman poked the lady on the nose, making her look at him.
"You're gonna make you're-ah, head explode... why don'T you talk. to me now?"
The woman cleared her throat, blushing slightly.
"What do you want Jo-Jack?"
Cara POV:
Work was such a nice distraction, but now that we were just sitting here, my mind went wild.
Did he come to kill me? But if he wanted to kill me why didn't he do it already?
Am I hallucinating? Am I dreaming? I pinched myself. Ow. Nope, ok not dreaming. What am I going to do? Should I call the police? But... he hasn't DONE anything to warrant me calling the police... but he IS the Joker.
Should I get the hamburger or the pancakes?
"Watcha gonna get Sugar?" he finally spoke, and I fought the urge to look up at him, I suddenly felt like crying. Blinking a few times, I saw him scratching his cheek out of the corner of my eye.
We ordered, and I started to play with my napkin.
"You keep scratching and your mask will fall off, Darling," I muttered, not looking up. Why did I suddenly feel so vulnerable? This man has done nothing but made me miserable- he's kidnapped me, he's scared me, he's saved-
As my mind was reeling, our food arrived, and my thoughts were interrupted by a rude poke.
I finally looked up at him, my heart starting to pound. The look in his eyes made a jolt electricity go down my spine.
"You're gonna make you're-ah, head explode... why don'T you talk. to me now?"
Blushing, I realized that I had to talk to him at some point. But there was something I needed to know.
"What do you want Jo-Jack?" I asked, straightening my back trying to look strong. The Clown Prince of Crime tilted his head as he stole a bite of pancake from my plate. As he chewed, his grin started to form.
Swallowing loudly, he leaned forward, his eyes dark.
"Why Sugar... All I WANT... is..."
I didn't realize I was holding my breath, or that my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it pulse in my hands.
"...your pancakes,"
For a moment, I just stared at him, and I finally breathed. Shaking my head, I switched plates with him, digging into his hamburger. We were quiet for a while, and I started to calm down.
Maybe he just came to, visit me? Maybe he was worried?
...
...
.
This is the JOKER woman, he wasn't WORRIED about you. Stop romanticizing everything. He probably got bored in Gotham, or he's going to kidnap you again and do SOMETHING drastic. Don't let your guard down. Not for ONE second.
Looking up at him through my lashes, I could see him watching me, that same look in his eyes. He was so unpredictable that I couldn't get a read on him. Taking a long drink of water, I felt our knees bump into each other.
"Sorry," he muttered, taking another bite of syrup drenched pancake, and I... I actually smiled at him.
What the FUCK am I thinking?!
Joker POV:
These are fantastic pancakes... Why didn't I get these in the first place?
Our knees bumped, and I muttered a "Sorry", I don't know why, I just did.
Now, to be honest, I had NO idea what I was gonna do with her. I was just gonna go with the flow, plans really aren't my thing. But I knew for SURE, that I was going to punish her for leaving and ruining my game.
Poor Sugar, she's gonna make her mind melt with all of that thinking. Can't she just accept that her fate is sealed? That no matter how hard she thinks that she won't figure out why I'm here and what I'm going to do with her? Can't she just-
She... smiled at me. I just watched her, and I wish I had a camera so that I could trace that smile whenever I wanted. Suddenly I remembered when we were sitting on my bed, and we were laughing, together, and how my stomach did this same flip floppy thing... maybe indigestion?
I want more pancakes.