What Happens In Gotham

What Happens In Gotham



By: TheDisasterousChibi



Last Time:



Walking in to the Gotham Police Department gave similar results. A dead tense silence filled the room upon her arrival. She was really starting to get annoyed now. Her stride became aggressive as she walked to Gordon’s office. She opened the door and all but slammed it shut.



“What is going on Gordon? Am I a leper now?”



Jim Gordon looked up from the morning paper on his desk, surprised to be interrupted like this by Katarina. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. He motioned for her to sit down.



“You haven’t seen today’s addition of the Daily Prophet have you?”



“No, I stopped when it started to print out garbage. Why?” Katarina shrugged of her coat. This part of the police station was always nice and toasty.



Gordon slid the paper across the desk to where she was sitting, leaned back and prepared himself for her reaction.



Katarina picked up the paper, her eyes wide with disbelieve at what she was seeing. She scanned the article to find the author. Just as she suspected there in bold letters at the bottom of the was the name Anita Seeker.



“That bitch!”





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Chapter Eight: The Headline Of The Shrew!



Rachel waved good-bye to Katarina as she exited the apartment. She interlocked her fingers and stretched them to the ceiling, a few popping sound where her reward. Scratching the back of her head, she headed for the kitchen where Harvey was probably reading the newspaper now.



“Rachel!” came the startled cry from the kitchen, “you have to come see this”



Rachel lengthened her strides and turned a sharp left to her sun filled pale green kitchen. At the center of the room, a steaming cup of tea in front of him, sat Harvey. The newspaper covered the bottom half off his face. His eyes were wide and rapidly scanning the front cover of the paper.



“What is it Harvey? Another Joker Killing?” the concerned Rachel asked coming to stand behind her boyfriend’s chair.



Her eyes swiftly took in the full color pictures at the front of the paper; her eyes began to match the wide-eyed stare of her blond boyfriend. She sank down to the chair beside him as continued to read the article.



“This is not good…”





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“Good Morning Master Bruce.”



Walking in to the closed curtain room Alfred placed the proverbial feast filled tray on top of a mahogany dresser. He noiselessly made his way to the large window of the room; with a firm tug, he spread them to their separate corners.



“Good Morning Alfred”



The mumbled voice of Bruce Wayne was faintly heard from behind Alfred. His face was facing the soft goose feathered pillow. He yearned to return to sleep, a place where the world had no need for Batman, where he and Rachel could be together but most importantly a place where his parents still lived, ripe with age and love.



Nevertheless, this was reality, cold and lonely. The billionaire brunette used his muscular arms to push himself into a slouching sitting position. Last night had not been productive. He had been chewed out by a very glamorous Mrs. Napier, had to stuff Rachel in a closet, and he had not been able to track his impromptu party crasher.



“Sir I think you’ll find something quite…interesting in the paper this morning.”



Bruce’s attention peaked at this. He sat straighter on his bed and concentrated his chocolate gaze at his father figure caretaker.



“And what would that be Alfred.”



“A rather rancorously sounding article writing by a Miss Anita Seeker.” Alfred placed the silver tray on Bruce’s lap and took a step back, crossing his arms behind him in a gentlemanly fashion that the British seem to posses.



“Really? About me?” Bruce asked as he unfolded the news paper.



“Not quite Sir.”



Picking up a piece of buttered toast and placed it in his mouth, holding on with his teeth. The pictures in the front page featured its usual infamous celebrity but what shocked Bruce into openmouthed wonder were the other subjects of the pictures. Their were several pictures of them, each taken from different angles. The setting of the pictures where all too familiar to Bruce. That was his pent house party hall. And that gorgeous woman was none other then Katarina Napier.



“For once Alfred, I wish this front page feature one of my Play boy blunders. This woman, this Anita Seeker, has no idea who just enraged. I almost feel pity for her…”





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“Boss here’s the paper you wanted.”



The young awkward looking young man, with an unfortunate buzz cut, stood at the door of the room the Joker had declared his office in the run down ware house in Downtown Gotham.



He was the third man this month to be assigned this duty. All of his predecessors had met untimely ends at the hands of the purple garbed lunatic whom they served. One had been impaled by a flying dagger upon his entrance. The second had his face melted away by an acid pie that had been bobby trapped onto the door. The third one…well Carl wasn’t sure what had happened to the third on but from what he heard he died with a smile…



Carl had been working for the Joker for three months now, ripping off mob banks and making tons of money. The Lackey’s only ever saw a small percentage of the loot but the last person to mention this was a warded with on of the Joker’s many “magic tricks”



The Joker was no where to be seen, Carl knew he had to be here, he hadn’t left the room since they had arrived from the Wayne party the previous night.



“Boss you here?”



“Put down the paper and leave while I’m still in a forgiving mood.”



The high pitched hysteric voice of the Joker, with its slurred word and drawls, was chilling. It was coming from a door adjacent to the large desk currently littered with blue prints and papers, a few knifes and perhaps even some dynamite.



Carl did not need to be told twice, he covered the room in rapid strides and quickly placed the paper down on the chair the only vacant place. He swiftly turned and fled the room, closing the door with a hurried smack.



Walking out of the tiny bathroom, face freshly painted in white, black, and crimson hues. His hair, he had noted, would need a fresh dye soon. The golden blond locks where beginning to show through the brown and green dyes at the roots.



And really who feared a golden haired villain?



‘Though by this point I could walk around in a Peter Pan costume and still strike fear into the hearts of men.’



Wiping his still wet hands onto the slightly grimy purple trousers. The Joker crossed his room to pick up the newspaper. People probably couldn’t picture the chaos loving clown sitting down to do something as mundane as reading a newspaper, which is probably why he did it. Got to keep them guessing.



Sitting down on his rolling chair, spinning around giggling to himself, the Joker picked up his newspaper and scanned the front looking for something interesting. His spinning came to a halt when he saw the front cover of the paper.



“What in the name of Chaos is this?”





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“How did she manage to get these” a perplexed and infuriated Katarina asked a very haggard looking Gordon.



“I think the real question is, why didn’t you tell me about this yesterday?”



Gordon was slightly disappointed in his subordinate, this woman seemed to want to carry the weight of the world and smile while she did it. Gordon had seen through her facade, seen the dark purple circles that were skillfully covered with make-up. Her usually proud posture was just a bit more forced today, her shoulders strained under the pressure to keep her back erect. Her skin was paler the usual, all together she looked like a drained human being.



“I was going to report to you today.” she responded.



“Katarina while you’re here in Gotham you are my responsibility. So please tell me what’s bothering you.”



“Jim there is nothing wrong. Where did you get that crazy notion?” Katarina straitened her self even more, she avoided Gordon’s gaze, looking at everything but the rather perceptive man before her.



Gordon fixed his blue gaze on Katarina. When she raised her eyes their gazes meet and she couldn’t hold it in.



She began to weep.



She let out all of the frustration, tension and confusion that had gathered in this last week. They were silent tears, each drop a silent cry of agony of emotional turmoil. Her head dropped and her back gave in to the tension, she slouched forward her chest heaved with the force of holding in the sounds of her anguish.



Gordon walked around his desk and sat himself on the chair to her left. He stayed in his place, a silent specter to this heartbreaking scene. He knew that she would not want him to comfort her at this moment. So instead he showed her support by grasping one of her dainty hands in to his rough aged ones and let her weep.



Katarina gripped on to the elder mans hand like a life line. She continued to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks washing way some of the make-up she had used that morning to hide the signs of fatigue and of a sleepless night. Regrouping herself Katarina angrily wiped the tears from her eyes, the cold and salty droplets darkening the material of her red blouse.



“God when did I turn into such a shmuck?” with a self jabbing strained giggle Katarina gave Gordon’s hand a final squeeze and released it. She lifted her head to face Gordon.



“Feel better?”



“Much Jim.”



“Do you want to tell me what brought that on?” he asked gently.



“The photo, the one where he is kissing me. I had only ever been kissed by my husband.” she said, “I know it sounds silly but for a minute there it had felt like I had my Jack back.”



With a sigh she continued, “Until I realized that he was still gone and what this mad man had robbed me of. Silly huh?”



Immense guilt flooded through Katarina as she partially lied to Gordon. How could she tell this wonderful caring man that she thought the murdering Clown Prince of Crime they were going after might be her husband? She couldn’t do that to him, ask him to keep her secret, this man who was so just and righteous. And so she lied.



“It’s not foolish. You let things build up too much Katarina. For the week I’ve known you you’ve never stopped. What are you running from?”



“The past, the future, the present…everything? Sometimes I don’t even know Jim, but thank you for letting me break down on you.” She gave him a small but genuine and warm smile.



“I can’t do that at home or at work. I have to be strong for J.C. I need to be Mom and Dad.”



“I understand this never leaves this room.” Gordon replied, “Now about this Seeker woman and her pictures what do you plan to do about them?”



With a sadistic grin on her face, all traces of sorrow gone as her mind whirled with plans of vengeance and retribution Katarina’s mouth cracked into an evil wide smirk. Her brown eyes gleamed with mischief and a promise of pain.



“If you can give me an hour off this morning I would really thank you Gordon.”



“What for?”



“I have an appointment with a certain reporter…”





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Anita Seeker sat in her chair quite please with herself as she studied her first front page headliner article. She could not believe her luck when she had gotten to take various pictures of the notorious Joker. And best off all he got some well earned vengeance from that vulgar Napier woman from the fundraiser.



Her front page article had a total of five pictures, but her favorite one had to be of what she had fondly dubbed, “The Pay back Kiss”



In the picture the Joker had a firm grip on the woman’s long hair, her had pulled her head until it was angled at his mouth and brought his scarred crimson lips down on the woman’s. The look on the vulgar woman face had puzzled Anita when she had revealed the pictures. Her brown eyes had a look of recognition of nostalgia and a glint of hope in them as they stared in to the Joker’s own.



Her left arm had been pinned by his side and her right hand had come to try and alleviate his grip on her scalp. Her body had that rigid shock paralyzed state of surprise victim but her eyes seemed to be searching the insane man’s own.



This picture had inspired her entire piece, a rather, even she must admit, spiteful account of what the woman and the Joker’s relationship was like. As well as peculation on the child, “Could this be the Joker‘s love child?” she had written. It had been accusatory and hateful in some passages but Anita Seeker was quite pleased with herself. No one messed with Ace reporter Anita Seeker and had a reputation afterward.



The normal buzzing of the newsroom was hushed into a stiff stillness, it consumed the room and all that could be heard was the powerful strides of shoes connecting with the faux marble floor. Anita rotated in her chair to see what had stopped the usual commotion. There, rapidly closing the distance between them, was a tall tan woman who looked livid and out for murder. Anita would know that look anywhere. It was the one she had reserved last night. This was Katarina Napier.



“I suppose you think your quite clever don’t you Seeker?”