Asylum Romance (A Joker Story [Sequel to Turquoise punchline])

20: Wayne Manor

Fire licked up and down the building as we all watched in shock. Bruce Wayne’s mansion, destroyed. The man who used all his money to fund Gotham, was now going to focus money into the construction of his new home.

Jack and I were out of business for a while, unless we moved cities temporarily. 

“We can move a city over,” he assured me, holding my shoulders as we watched from our rooftop. The grey, giant clouds consumed the collapsing building and a heap of fire roared happily as it hungrily fed on the home that all of Gotham seemed to admire.

Jack wasn’t upset about the lack of money we’d be getting, or the number of workers we’d have to lay off. He was upset that he wasn’t the one who started the fire.

“Well, I don’t mind staying here and ruining the rest of the city’s spirit,” I mused, watching with keen eyes as the firefighters scrambled to keep the fire under control.

“No,” he spoke firmly. “We need them to regain their spirit, then crush it like–“

“Not in the mood for fucked up jokes, babe,” I spoke softly, holding his hand. “But I am in the mood for ice cream, if you’re up for it?”

He scoffed. “Ice cream? Now?”

I shrugged, I didn’t mind. I was hungry. Damn, doesn’t a girl have to eat?

“Well, we have Kellen, who would probably love to try ice cream!” I spoke pleadingly, looking at him with soft eyes.

“Kellen’s mouth would freeze,” he rolled his eyes. “We’ve switched rolls, it seems. I care about the kid and you care about destruction.”

“I care about my kid!” I protested, crossing my arms, letting out a huff. “Fine, forget it!” I got up and picked up the jacket I had neatly placed on the ground next to me as we watched the burning of Wayne Manor. 

“We have ice cream in the fridge,” Jack pointed out, standing up as well, taking my hand back in his. “You have to remember that we can’t just go out like normal people.”

“Why not? You have makeup!” I stomped my foot and groaned, he raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

“Fuck, you’re stubborn,” he muttered under his breath, trudging to the doors that would lead us back downstairs. Following angrily, I poked the back of his head every so often to see what he would do. Sadly, he just growled each time and occasionally muttered ‘stop it’, and turned to give me the evil eye.

I didn’t mind, though. I wasn’t messing with him out of spite, I did it out of love, which was a weird thing to say, but it was just part of being with The Joker.

The Joker was always messing with me. Hell, he’d mess with anyone he could get in arms distance of. But I never got too mad.

It comforted me, in a way, to be able to poke and nudge without him actually showing signs of wanting to smack me. It was something that no one but me could do. If someone else had poked him, he’d slice open their face. But if I did, I just get a small protest.

It was what made me remember his love for me.

I smiled softly to myself, rushing over to his side, entwining my fingers with his and walking back to the bedroom, where we’d watch tv and eat ice cream.

He was gonna make me ice cream, of course, because he knew if he didn’t, I’d throw a tantrum.

“Chocolate chip?” he questioned, glancing at me.

I frowned and bit my lip, tilting my head to the side in thought. “Hm, no, cookies and cream,”

“Coming right up, princess,” he muttered as if he was annoyed, but the look in his eye told me otherwise. I smirked and nudged him, causing him to draw back and then nudge me back.

“I love you,” I spoke surely. 

He smiled, “I love you, too,” he said, then went off to make me my bowl of ice cream.

Yes, we were having financial issues, but who cares? We got some bomb-ass ice cream.