Life is so much better when you're dead

There were times when he would often fracture Joker's bones, beat him until he blacked out, and wait until he came around, just to pin him to the ground, fully aware of how all the sharp edges of his armor were grinding into his already maltreated flesh, and fuck him raw until he bled. Then, there were times when he would only use the amount of force necessary to keep up the facade of punishment--that's how he had referred to it in the beginning. Joker was asking for it, of course, so he gave it to him tenfold. The clown would laugh, he would moan and scream like he enjoyed every minute of it, and Bruce couldn't count how many times he had made him come, simply ravaging his body. Still, it was punishment, and he knew he was doing a much better job than they would ever do at Arkham. At first, he would look for excuses. For example, ever since they had started, Joker's criminal endeavors had decreased significantly; in a way, it was public service. Had he turned him in, though, he would have surely escaped again with renewed ingenuity in the field of spreading terror.

It had lasted for two or three months. Then, there were times when Bruce would sometimes make a mistake of looking into Joker's eyes after they were done, instead of pulling away immediately and disappearing into the night, forcing the realization of what he had really done out of his mind. And he would drown in self disgust. About that time, he had acknowledged his sleeping problem. It had already taken its toll, and the memories from that period were merely a mélange of white noise, pain, the taste of blood and nausea.

One night, when he was done and Joker was still able to move, he didn't leave at once. He waited a few seconds too long--the madman managed to stand up and approach him. He placed his hands on both sides of his cowl and started to pull it off his head, but Batman pushed him away just in time. This he had remembered with outstanding clarity: Joker just smacked his lips and walked back to him, his legs shaking a little bit. And he said something along the lines of "Now, don't be silly, Bruce".

Bruce simply froze. Joker unveiled his face without meeting any resistance and simply looked at him with that strange reverence mixed with amusement in his eyes. He kept looking for quite a while, and Bruce just stood still. The first thought that came to his mind was that he had probably reached the end. There was nothing left for him to do than to turn himself in or die. But Joker pressed himself close to his armor and kissed him. And it didn't feel like a joke. He pushed him away again, but only a few inches; the madman was still close enough to start wiping the red greasepaint off Bruce's lips with his own necktie, smiling apologetically. Bruce just yanked his cowl out of the gloved hand and put it back on. Then, he just ran away.

Back in his base, he had to not only remove Joker's semen from his armor, now he also had to get rid of the red and white smears from his face. They were very stubborn, and he caught himself wondering what does the clown use to remove his make up, if he ever removes it at all. Soon enough, Bruce found himself facing the greasepaint problem every time.

There was also the night when he made another mistake and spoke to Joker. They were already through, and the madman was lying flat on his back, smiling at him. Finally, he propped himself on his elbows. Bruce just watched the puddle of blood forming between his legs before he managed to reach down and pull his dusty, purple pants back on. He asked him why did he always come back for more, even though he knew what he was going to get. Joker went completely silent for a couple of moments, his breath coming in short rasps. Then, he burst out laughing.

"I just... as long as you want to give something to me... no matter what... I will take anything. As long as it's from you, darling..."

Everything went downhill from that point, blurring and twisting along the way, until it had reached him right here, in Joker's den, hungover and miserable, yet still dubiously calm. He wasn't disturbed with the quiet presence of Sofia. He wasn't too remorseful about having spent the last twenty four hours with Joker. Bruce didn't know if it was detachment that held him in its grip, or if he had just gone mad already; either way, he was still immersed in that protective numbness, and it still felt good. Finally, a sound of the bathroom door opening and an unhappy grunt broke into his memories.

"I tore the buttons off that shirt last night, didn't I... Shame, shame, shame..." Joker mumbled to himself as he approached the clothing rack and began to browse through his garments. He was wearing only some gray, pinstriped pants and black, dotted socks, and the morning sun shining in through the open window exposed every scar on his upper body. Bruce's gaze slid down Joker's back; he could remember being the source of too many of those scars. He hanged his head, concentrating on the particles of dust floating in the light.

Joker started to hum some cheerful melody; he had finally found a shirt he considered appropriate for the occasion. He buttoned it down, put on his shoes and suspenders. "Let's take care of those pesky hickeys, shall we, darling?" The madman grinned as he pulled a green, elastic band off his wrist and tied his hair into a small ponytail. He reached inside his pockets, taking out some make up supplies, and seated himself on the bed next to Bruce. He assessed the damage. "Ouch. Did I do this to you...?" he murmured and opened a bottle of foundation.

The dust was floating lazily, and Joker's warm hands felt good, even though he wasn't doing anything sensual. Bruce looked up to see his face. His scars were now visible in their entirety, but somehow, it wasn't the deformity that drew his gaze at first, it was the few pale freckles that covered his rounded nose. Then, he noticed a couple of small, jagged scars on his left cheekbone. Also his doing. The remnants of the night he had almost killed him.

"There. Like a virgin, prim and proper." Joker smiled with his lower lip tucked in as he applied the finishing touches.

"Ready?" Sofia began to shuffle her feet impatiently.

"I still need to powder up my own nose, y'know." Joker grinned and cupped Bruce's face in his hands, sizing up his work with pride.

"Just... just leave it, I have darkened windows. Come on, I wanna stitch this shit up already." She threw the blood-soaked ball of toilet paper, and it dropped to the floor with a sickly, splattering sound. Joker rolled his eyes at such display of crudeness. Finally, he rose from the bed, pulling Bruce up by his hand. He picked up his black jacket from the chair and paced to the door, and Sofia clapped her hands in approval, watching the madman maneuver around the lock.

Bruce inhaled the musty air as they left the apartment. Joker finally let go of his hand to close the door properly, but as soon as he was done, his fingers snaked around his elbow. Sofia went down the stairs first; the clinking of the buckles of her cowboy boots and the creaking of wood echoed across the staircase. After a few seconds, both men caught up with her, and they went outside into the sun in complete silence. Bruce squinted, not ready for such an abundance of light reflected straight into his eyes off large puddles. He recalled that it had rained at night.

He looked at Joker who was still clinging to him, and he noticed a few more things, for example, how his hair looked clean and soft, without a trace of green. He must have stopped dying it a long time ago, but Bruce couldn't tell since he would always meet him in the dark. Actually, it was the first time he had ever seen him like this in broad daylight, and something about this fact made his guts wrench a little. Joker's touch was firm and warm, every feature of his face was clearly visible, the texture of his skin exposed, the dark circles around his slightly bloodshot eyes; he looked so human...

Joker figured out Bruce was staring at him, and he tilted his head to meet his gaze. "I know I don't look very dapper this morning, but c'mon... you're in need of some facial yourself, so gimme a break." Bruce raised his eyebrows and smirked slightly.

"Get in the car, poofs." Sofia opened the door and sat behind the wheel.

"I'm gonna have to take care of that damn fire escape..." muttered Joker, eyeing the wrongfully deployed ladder before he got in and took his place in the backseat next to Bruce.

"Now... give me five minutes here." Sofia reached beneath the passenger seat and pulled out a first aid kit. She fumbled inside of it for a moment until she found some suturing equipment and a bottle of disinfectant. She angled the rear view mirror to have a better look at her split mouth and started to fix it. The cut wasn't too big, it only took two stitches. She spat on a tissue and wiped the dried blood off her chin, and then, applied some adhesive band-aid over the whole thing.

"Done. Oh wait, one more thing." She opened the glove box, grabbed a black sharpie marker and wrote DON'T LAUGH on her left hand.

"Yeah. This can no longer go unnoticed." Joker furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you so stalwart you eat pain for breakfast, or do you just... uh..."

"Just what?" Sofia turned around and gave him a suspicious look, but the madman rolled his eyes up as if searching for the right expression. In the end, he just shrugged and pouted at her. "It's called congenital insensitivity to pain, and I have it," she said and faced the steering wheel. Joker seemed somewhat offended with that explanation, but he remained silent.

"Now." Sofia started the engine. "Where to? The penthouse, the mansion?"

"Penthouse," said Bruce quietly.

"Do you ever intend to move back to your mansion, anyway? You're done rebuilding it, aren't you?" She put a cigarette in her mouth and pushed the gas pedal.

"Can't see why it should concern you. Besides, I don't think you should smoke when you have an open wound in your mouth."

"Can't see why it should concern you. Besides, if I were doing anything wrong, baby Jesus would've smitten me already. Now, fasten your fucking seatbelts."

Joker leaned against Bruce and wrapped his arms around him, tucking his head in the crook of the man's shoulder. "I will be his seatbelt," he singsonged.

Sofia turned her head for a second, an expression of disbelief gracing her face. "Does he get any lamer than this?" she muttered with the cigarette hanging from the undamaged corner of her lips.

"Very rarely." Bruce sighed. He rested his head against Joker's, and it took him a while to realize what he was doing, but he just shrugged it off. He felt comfortable like this, and he was too hungover to oppose his body's struggle for any kind of comfort. Sofia rolled down the window, letting fresh air mingle with the thick smell of the inside of her car which consisted mainly of metal, gasoline, leather, and tobacco. She didn't have any air conditioning installed in it, let alone any kind of air freshener, so Bruce welcomed the gust of wind on his skin with appreciation.

"So, listen. You go ahead and explain yourself to your butler, get more rest and whatnot, I have no problem with that. Yet. But, at nine p.m., I'll be seeing you at Cheetah--you know, that old fashioned go-go club downtown that Maroni owned... Now I own it. And this is your last cue, you fail to appear tonight, and you know what happens. We don't have any more time if we want to carry it out with dignity."

Bruce didn't respond, distracted with a sudden wave of giggling that shook Joker's body. It stopped as abruptly as it started, left with no explanation.

"So how about it?" she asked.

"Fine, fine." Bruce tilted his head to lie more comfortably against Joker's and closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the moment while it lasted, and also, while his little, questioning, internal voices kept lying dormant. Joker began to caress his neck lazily with his fingertips, making him even more relaxed and sleepy, but the sound of the engine kept him somewhat alert. The ride lasted for a couple more minutes and neither of them was happy when Sofia finally pulled over.

"Okay, we're here. Right? It's here, right?"

"Yeah, it's here." Bruce reached to the handle hesitantly and opened the door, but Joker grabbed his arm.

"Hey. Won't you kiss me goodbye?"

Bruce looked at him, slightly perplexed, and gave Sofia a quick glance, but she didn't seem to be interested in the least in what they were doing, so he locked his eyes back with Joker's. Once again, he felt something coiling in his stomach at the sight of this face. It felt almost like fear, but wasn't really unpleasant. Bruce decided to ignore it. He leaned onward and kissed him, cradling the back of his head in his palm; it surprised him how easily it came, how natural it felt. Joker let out a satisfied purr and smiled before he pushed back, sucking on Bruce's lower lip.

"Jesus, stop it," Sofia gnarled, throwing the cigarette butt out the window.

"Shh..." Joker wagged his hand at the girl and pounced Bruce for one last hug, pressing himself close.

"You took a gun with you?" Bruce whispered in his ear at the feel of something hard beneath his jacket.

"Mm-hm."

"You know what... don't... don't hurt her, okay?

"Oh, come on-"

Bruce quenched the wave of protests with another kiss. "Just don't," he said quietly as he pulled away. Sofia turned around, seemingly annoyed.

"Go away, Wayne. Tell your butler to make you something nutritious because you look like shit. And see you in the evening. Good day."

"Now, don't say that..." Joker pursed his lips. "It's inconsiderate. Y'know, if he looks like shit, then you look like a very vexed lower intestine, but do you see us making fun of you for it? No."

Sofia glared at him with a lopsided snarl, but she didn't say a word. Bruce chuckled and shook his head. He opened the door again and got out, looking at Joker one more time with a slight smile before he walked away to the entrance. Joker didn't close the door until the man disappeared in the building. He gave out a dreamy sigh and stretched out his arms, ignoring Sofia staring at him with wry amusement.

"Did you see it? He smiled at me...!" A blissful expression brightened his face as he lay down, taking up the whole backseat.

Sofia flailed her hands. "Like, omigod, he totally did...!" Joker shot her a reproachful glare. "So, you expect me to take you home now, or what?" she asked.

"No, no, no, no, we're going to Wendy's and you're gonna buy me breakfast."

"Okay."

The madman sat up and gave her a suspicious look, but she started the engine unfazed. They drove for a few minutes in complete silence until he decided to speak up. "How come you're so accommodating all of a sudden?"

"Hm? I'm always accommodating, what are we talking about here?"

"Oh, you're mollycoddling us. First, the blackmailing, then you spray some festive substance in my face and beat me up, then you're breaking and entering just to give us some water, then you give Bruce a ride home, and now... I mean, I'm overwhelmed."

"Right now it's in my interest to make sure Wayne is in the right state, so I guess it's just business, and if you feel overwhelmed, I can always cut off your thumbs for the sake of balance."

"Yeah, so, uh, listen..." He pulled out his gun and placed the muzzle to her head without eliciting any reaction. "I've noticed how you like to act like you're not opposed to the concept of... violence. But... there are ways of making the experience unpleasant. Even if it doesn't quite hurt you."

"...Really."

"Look. All I'm saying is that if you want to use Bruce for your silly endeavors, you'd better give him something in return. I can tell, you see, he's seriously considering to play along, at least for a while. I do believe he needs something to help him take his mind off a couple of things and put other things in perspective, that kind of stuff."

"Do continue."

"Just some friendly advice. Make sure he gets some fun out of it. He needs that, and I can't really give it to him at this point, because, uh... yeah. And if you fail, I will kill you, and he will take care of your legacy, just as soon as he gets better. And he's already gotten fairly better."

"I've managed to notice this much, you should've seen him when I showed him that video," Sofia pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a sudden eruption of laughter. "But to what do I owe such friendly advice?"

"Well, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and now I see your presence has been beneficial so far."

"...To you? In what way...?"

"That doesn't concern you."

Sofia shot him a look in the mirror. "Think you're too cool for seatbelts, don't you? If that gun you're pointing to my head went off accidentally, you'd do yourself in just like Dent did Maroni."

"How do you know about that?" he asked, putting the gun back in his pocket.

"I might've spent the last seven years abroad, but this is still my city. I know everything I should know."

"You might want to rephrase that; it's not your city, silly."

"It's as much mine as it is yours or Wayne's. Guess it belongs to everybody that cares. Now, there's Wendy's..." she muttered as they approached the drive-thru speaker. "What's your order, son?"

"Kid's Meal. Cheeseburger, fries and root beer."

Sofia giggled maliciously and repeated the order to the speaker.

"Can't see what's so funny about it. It's fairly mundane," he droned, lying down on the backseat as they drove through.

"Keep your shoes off my upholstery, or you'll be digesting your kid's meal backwards."

"Now. Don't be so strict." Joker took his feet off the seat obediently as they arrived at the window. Something struck him as he listened to Sofia talk to the employee. He sat up and leaned onward to take a look at him. "Hey there, Schiff." He waved his hand at the man in the window, causing him to twitch nervously.

"M... Mister Jo-"

"Ahtatata, we're not using the J word here, chum. So. You went and got yourself a spiffy job, I see."

"Well, um... yes... um, it's a part of the p-program, um, th-the social workers, they... they got me this j-job and s-so I work here n-now..."

"Oh, that's nice. So, how's your mother?" asked Joker, but Schiff just gulped and twitched even harder. "Look at him, he used to be such a strapping, young lad when he worked for me, and now..." The madman clicked his tongue with disapproval. "What a waste... Now, gimme my order, you ingrate."

"O-of course... on the house." Schiff made an attempt at smiling, but what appeared on his sweat slicked face resembled more of a painful cringe. He passed the box and disappeared promptly. Sofia snorted and drove away, eyeing Joker maneuver around his meal.

"What toy did you get?"

"Oh, a splendid one. Jigsaw puzzle."

"Jigsaw puzzle... words cannot express the splendidness."

"You're just jealous," he retorted with his mouth full.

"Yeah. So, where to now?"

"What time is it?"

"11:30."

"And you told Bruce to come at nine? What am I supposed to do for all these hours...?"

"So, you want to be present when he's present?"

"Well, sorry if I led you to think otherwise. So, uh... I don't know. Think of something to keep me entertained for a while."

"Why can't you think of something yourself?"

"Because after last night, I'm in no condition for thinking. Besides, I'm kinda shifty and anxious when he's out there somewhere and not here with me, and you can think of it as a comradely warning."

"Why don't you two just get married."

"Oh, I'm sure this issue will come up eventually."


♣ ♣ ♣


"Master Wayne... What happened, sir? Is everything alright?"

"Alfred... look, I... I'm sorry I just left like this..." Bruce smiled sheepishly. It was deadly evident Alfred had spent the last twenty four hours worrying himself to death, yet he still tried his best to retain his poise as soon as his employer went through the door. "But everything's fine."

"With all due respect, sir, your current appearance indicates otherwise."

Bruce laughed softly. "If you would be so kind and make me some breakfast... I think it might help a lot."

"Sir... I know it's not my place to ask, but..."

"No, Alfred, you have every right to ask. And I really wish I could... tell you about everything. But I can't, you see... some of those things, they are just... too personal."

"Well, as long as you don't get yourself hurt, sir, I have no pretensions to knowing what exactly you have been doing lately. I shall prepare your breakfast now." The butler smiled. Even though Bruce still looked like hell, he definitely seemed more at ease compared to the past few months. If taking care of his personal affairs in such dramatic style resulted in some peace of mind for him, Alfred wasn't going to oppose it in the least.

"Thank you, Alfred... I, um, I'll go take a bath."

"Very well, sir."

♣ ♣ ♣


"Oh, come on. Don't tell me this is all you could come up with."

"Stop whining, fuckstick."

"But I don't wanna sit in a go-go club of all places for, what? Nine hours?"

Sofia snarled and clanked Joker on the head with a silver cigarette case she was holding. "At least get inside before someone sees you with me, Jesus. You know what? I can have you beaten up until you pass out, it'll help the time go faster. How's that?" she said as they entered the club.

"I'll consider it." The madman pouted and followed her inside. The interior of the club was indeed quite old fashioned, slightly seedy and definitely giving out an aura of mafia patronage. A broad, wooden bar; an opulence of exotic looking liquors; some red leather booths in the so called vip area; an ample sized but not too extravagant stage and some plain tables and stools for the financially impaired clientele completed the picture. As it was much too early, it wasn't open to the customers yet. It wasn't completely deserted, though.

"Heheh, look at what the cows dragged in," Yaguchi exclaimed from behind the bar.

"Who the fuck are you calling a cow, chinaman?" responded Sofia with a lopsided, but seemingly good natured smirk.

"None other than you, guinea mick." Yaguchi left the bar area and approached them, limping a little. He smiled at Joker and lowered his head slightly. "Pleased to meet you properly. It's nice to see you in good health, I thought she went rougher on you back then."

"Oh, no, no, no, I'm fine, just fine." Joker grinned menacingly and flailed his hand. "Nice eyeball. What happened to it?" He pointed at Yaguchi's left eye which was completely blue. The man plucked it from his eye socket and presented it to him with courtesy.

"As you can see, it's not quite there."

Suddenly, Sofia grabbed it from his hand and threw it behind the bar. "Goddammit, what did I tell you about pulling out your eye in front of me? Out of my face, go fetch."

Yaguchi rolled his one good eye and flicked her on the forehead lightly. "I swear, one night I'll sew all your limbs together in your sleep," he mumbled as he went looking for the eyeball.

"I swear, one more reference to that episode, and I'll sew your dick to your eye socket in vivo." Sofia looked at Joker and squinted. "Now, what should I do with you..."


♣ ♣ ♣


Bruce observed the spots of light wandering over his body, distorted by the surface of water. The scratch and bite marks left by Joker stung a little, but he found the sensation somewhat pleasant. He rubbed his face with his hands as if trying to wipe away the weariness and leaned back more comfortably in the bath tub.

He closed his eyes. Vivid images began to appear behind his eyelids, seemingly not connected to anything, as if he was watching commercials on the TV; it happened to him quite often lately. Another sign of exhaustion. Minute by minute, the images started to mingle with random thoughts running through his head, slowly forming a message that was only for him to understand, telling him that he had indeed arrived at a turning point. And that there was no going back.

Bruce memorized everything he had said today. How did he explain himself to Alfred...? That he had some personal business to take care of. Personal. Funny, how he had decided to use this particular word. Until now, his way of seeing the world revolved mainly around symbols. There was his parents' death, a symbol of his forced transition into adulthood. There was Alfred, a father figure. There was Rachel, the embodiment of everything right and just, the definition of unattainable. One of the reasons he had decided to turn himself into another symbol--Batman. Then, there was Bruce Wayne, the lifelike stereotype. And so on, and on, and on. Everything that had ever happened to him, everyone he had ever met, his brain would compartmentalize it all, turning it into ideas, channeling his emotions into masks, keeping their true nature hidden even from him.

He was never really there until the challenger appeared.

At first it, was very easy. The Joker was just another symbol, and he fell perfectly into the scheme. But the clown had broken out of the pattern a long time ago, dragging Bruce along without him noticing. As the time went by, every crime that Joker had committed stopped to matter in his mind, turning into merely an opportunity. It was about that time when he started to suspect what really drew him to the madman, and it was something so ridiculously human he couldn't believe it at first.

Joker welcomed everything from him, especially the worst that he had to offer, no matter how much it would cost him. He seemed to know everything about him, every last little thing, even the most trifling. He predicted his every move, guessed each of his urges. Then, Bruce realized that Joker would goad him simply to give him an excuse, allowing him to do whatever he wanted, changing his own ways gently and without alarming him until Bruce found himself pushed against a wall, aching for the bitter taste of greasepaint and blood that he had drawn himself, for the touch of gloved fingers on his face. Joker seemed to accept him as a whole, and Batman was simply infuriated with the fact that Bruce's well hidden need to simply be accepted was satisfied so efficiently by someone like this. But, over the years, Batman had become irrelevant, and all that was left now was someone with no label to identify himself with.

Bruce opened his eyes and looked at the marks covering his body. Still calm. He had either snapped or found his own, personal drug, and he didn't know if it was for the worse or for the better. He felt better, though, and maybe that was all he should be concerned with at the moment.


♣ ♣ ♣


"What time is it?"

"Will you fucking cease to ask me this particular question every five minutes? It's 8:43." Sofia grimaced with disapproval and poured Joker another round of Jack Daniels, emptying the bottle.

"So... so, so, so it means he'll be here in fifteen minutes...?" the madman slurred, propping his lolling head against the table.

"He'll be here unless he won't come. It's fairly logical."

Joker let out something in between a squeal and a growl. "You... You say he won't come one more time and I'll, uh... I will tell you in detail what I did to him last night."

"No!" Sofia covered her ears. "You get so starry eyed when you talk about him, it's sick."

"No... no. It's so not sick. It's... ugh..." He pressed his hands to his face and sighed. "It's pretty incapacitating, but not sick." Joker downed his whiskey in two takes. "Where's that Japanese person? He was kinda funny."

"He's got work to do, son, but yeah, he does have some mad stories."

"Don't you have any? For Christ's sake, woman... come up with something, lemme see some effort." Joker began to drum his fingers against his Glock which was lying on the table next to his glass.

"Wait, wait, wait. Have I told you already how I convinced Crane to share the fear toxin with me?"

"You haven't. Do tell."

Meanwhile, Bruce was already at the door of the club, welcomed cordially by Yaguchi who had been awaiting his arrival. The billionaire did his best not to draw attention with his appearance; plain clothes, a hood over his head, unshaved. Nonetheless, the one eyed man recognized him instantly and greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening, mister Wayne. I see you've taken some precautionary measures, but you needn't worry about being spotted by the wrong people. We're having a so called vip soirée tonight. This way, please." He extended his arm toward the table occupied by Sofia and Joker.

Bruce took a few steps inside. The first thing that struck him was the familiar, high pitched cackling. He cocked his eyebrow and slowly approached the booth. The table was cluttered with empty bottles, glasses and a few ashtrays, and neither Joker nor Sofia noticed him as they were both slumping over the table, debilitated with violent waves of laughter.

"And the best... and the best part is... Mickey... he installed some cameras in his cell, and, Jesus... I mean... oh, hey Wayne!"

Joker looked up. His eyes widened, and a ridiculously elated smile appeared on his face. He sprung up from his seat, and in a matter of split seconds he threw himself on Bruce, wrapping every limb around him and forcing the other man to fight for his balance.

"So, you came here too?" Bruce looked at the drunk madman with amusement, holding him up and trying not to give away how he felt about the surprise.

"I... I've been here the whole time... waiting for you, my dearest," Joker purred and placed a wet, whiskey flavored kiss on Bruce's lips.

"Yeah, at first he wouldn't shut up about you so I thought I'd get him drunk enough for him to pass out and shut the fuck up, but it only worked for like, two hours. Then, he woke up sober as a judge, wanting more," Sofia said, stuttering a little. "Motherfucker can hold his ale, gotta give him that."

"Wait... don't tell me you've spent the entire day sitting here and talking about me to her." Bruce grimaced in disbelief and attempted to take a seat with Joker still clinging to him.

"Oh, no, no, don't be silly, she was telling me things too."

"But mainly it was you running your mouth about... this and that, which I absolutely needed not to know. I swear, If I had to look any longer at his maidenly blush and buttery eyes whenever you were even mentioned, Wayne... Jesus..."

Bruce finally managed to seat himself, allowing Joker to remain in his lap. He gave him a careful look; he could tell Joker was completely inebriated, but since he himself was sober this time, it was quite a treat to observe what alcohol could do to the madman. He certainly wasn't a typical kind of drunk; his movements and gestures had lost their twitchy quality, becoming fluid and almost childlike. There were no traces of ill willed cunning or mischief left in his eyes, yet his stare was so intense it sent shivers down Bruce's spine.

"I missed you." Joker leaned forward and kissed him gently. Bruce began to feel warm tingles in his stomach immediately, but he pulled away and attempted to smirk.

"You just saw me this morning."

Sofia coughed and shot them a chiding look. Bruce gave her a somewhat apologetic smile in return, and his eyes locked with Joker's one more time. He felt another surge of tingles. Finally, he reached out and caressed the back of the madman's neck. "Come here," he said, pulling him slightly and wrapping his arm around his waist, and Joker budged; he closed his eyes, nuzzling his face into Bruce's neck.

"You two are just outgaying yourself right now," Sofia muttered, but Bruce didn't find it necessary to retort. He just raised his eyebrows at her. "Can we talk now?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess we can."

"So, let me hear all of your arguments, and I will tell you why they're invalid."

"Look, I... I gave it some thought. What exactly do you need me for? Muscle? Protection? A way to appear more legitimate?"

"All of the above."

"You really don't need me for all of this. You could buy off as many people as you want if you want to appear valid. You can get all the muscle you want, you can afford it. And you don't really need protection. So why does it have to be me?"

"Before I answer, let me ask you something first. Are you having inhibitions because of the nature of the work I do?"

"Among other things, yes."

"May I ask why is that?"

"Well, as far as I can tell, associating with the mob on any level whatsoever never results in anything good. And if it does, it's short lived."

"You know what, as a professional, I need to commend you because this is exactly how it is. And it's because for the mob it's always about profit. Individual profit. That's why there's always the risk that someone steps out of line and brings downfall upon the entire outfit." Sofia leaned over the table slightly. "I told you, we're not your typical mob. I've already made enough money to last me for the remainder of my existence, along with the chinaman behind the bar and those shady characters in the other corner, and everybody not present today. We run this organization, but not for profit."

"What for, then?"

"Public service. Someone needs to do it. And we just felt like being the ones to do it right. Maybe out of boredom, maybe because we like this city. I know one thing for sure--if you want to appear legitimate and get high quality protection, you can't just buy off the 'legitimate' people who only do what they do to feel better about themselves or to compensate for something. They're either venal or short willed and unreliable. If you want to do it right, you need to work well with the right people. And you still are the symbol of what is right in the eyes of right people, like, from what I've heard, Commissioner Gordon."

Bruce hanged his head. Joker had already fallen asleep, becoming limp and relaxed like a cat. He was alone with this.

"Look," the girl continued. "I know how it might seem immoral to someone like you to even consider working for the so called criminals, but I think you're big enough to understand that they're always going to be around. My question is: is it better to build a system of checks and balances with the likes of us or to deal with the likes of the Vitis? Their way of doing business pretty much resembles my father's so you ought to have a pretty good idea of it."

"I wouldn't know which is better, I guess we're going to have to see for ourselves."

"Does it mean you agree wholeheartedly?"

"I don't really have a choice. Besides, I'm just curious what you really expect me to do."

"Oh, but you do have a choice. My guess is you just feel like it, don't you?"

"Maybe I do, in a way."

Sofia smiled with approval.

"So, this is what I'd like you to do. Remember how I told you we're gonna put Vitis in some unambiguous situations and then just hammer them in? See, I have a rat in Chicago, and he tells me Carla Viti is planning to pay me a visit tomorrow. She's taking her friends with her. Said rat has already given her my agenda so she knows where I'll be tomorrow evening. I'll be at the restaurant your boyfriend demolished lately, talking to the renovating crew. So just... be there too. Observe. There are surveillance cameras installed in the whole building so if they start correcting me in there, we'd have a pretty evident evidence. If not, well, just follow them wherever they take me. Wait until they break most of my bones or whatever, and then jump them, seize them, call the cops and an ambulance for me, provided they don't kill me at once, which I doubt they'll do. And I will tell everyone that Batman saved the day."

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"I know you don't feel pain, but this is... this is pushing it."

"I'm only pushing it as far as I have to. Will you be there? Because if you won't, I'm gonna have to have them all killed, and that might raise suspicions."

"...Alright, I'll be there."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Sofia leaned back, grinning. The stitches in the corner of her mouth were already ruined by laughing, and a tiny rivulet of blood kept trickling down her chin from underneath the bandage. Bruce cringed slightly at the sight.

"You... you really can't feel anything?" He pointed at her face.

"What? Oh..." She reached up and looked at the blood that remained on her fingers. "Well, wonderful. Yes, as you can see, I can't feel shit. Makes life a whole lot harder."

"I imagine. Look, um... did-" Joker moved in his sleep as if predicting he was going to be the next topic. "I mean... what did he tell you about me?" Bruce asked hesitantly.

"He was very informative. He told me about how the two of you used to be best friends forever in school, and how you were taking care of the class hamster together, and--"

"Okay, that's sufficient. So he didn't..."

"Yup, he didn't really say anything."

"Well, that's a relief." Bruce sighed and looked at Joker pensively. "I'm gonna have to take him home now..."

"Nonsense. I'll do it, lemme just call my designated driver." Sofia beckoned Yaguchi with her hand. "You'd just stay with him and do some uncomely things, which you shouldn't because you have to be in prime condition tomorrow. It's gonna be your big day."