The Schemer

Intimate Interactions

"I ge-t that ya work out and stuff, but you're not, uh, that big." It snapped something inside Clara, making her smile, showing those straight teeth of hers that rarely saw daylight. She could embrace his humorous replicas. 

"Seriously? And here I thought we were the same size. Almost."

"Nah. Not ye-t." Joker's eyes lingered on Clara's body, taking in the exposed upper body, inked skin, small to medium scars that once lacerated her lightly segmented torso, long, powerful limbs and veins, lots of raised lines on her body. "Although I must say I prefer my women, uh, softer. Rounder-r-r." He flashed her his teeth, making circular motions with hands. "A little more meaty. Y'know, there's quite a lot to grab on, bu-t uh, not enough to pinch. Isn't a little fat good for ya?"

"You're totally right, Doctor J. Your knowledge of the human body is completely up-to-date."

"Y'don't need to be a genius to see women get preggo and fat. Which means it's something natural. Normal." Joker noticed her rub a particularly ugly scar, as jacked and uneven as his own, on her lower stomach. As if feeling his gaze, the surgeon stopped, dropping her hand back to where it was before.

"It definitely is. Except I have no intentions of becoming a child-bearer. I'm designed to be as effective as possible in my field. If I can't stand on my feet the whole day, I will have to quit." Before the woman could say anything else, her phone on a nightstand started vibrating. She took three large steps, picking up the device. "Yes?" Jack kept his dark orbs on her, noticing the way her body language revealed her distaste for whatever was said on the other line. "Keep the pressure as low as possible, otherwise aorta will burst open. Will be there in an hour." Clara threw him a quick look. "I believe you will find your way out? If you change your mind, there should be a shirt of your size somewhere in there." The woman motioned towards her closet, her mind apparently somewhere else. 

She didn't wait for his acknowledgement, rushing to the bathroom with a pile of clean clothes in hand. Fifteen minutes later, the man heard her silent steps darting down, a slam of the front door and a turned on engine. That was a different level of ignorance - or foolishness - that the Joker acknowledged in this strange woman. Who the hell was she? Who the fuck would sleep with a murderer breathing down her neck, leave him in her own house trusting the anarchist enough to not burn it down to ashes? Chuckling to himself, the man laid down once more, stretching his long limbs, occupying the whole bed. Perhaps she was just as crazy as himself. \

Like a dog, he caught a gust of the surgeon's scent lingering in the room. Something spicy and heavy. Joker remembered smelling something similar in a spice cupboard, evading his senses, numbing the ability to smell anything else. Clove. It was the clove that the assassin smelled of. Clove, reminding Jack of cold winter evenings, fireplace, burning wood and smoke. The stupid aroma of clove, fluttering around with invisible wings, reminding of its owner.

Whilst Joker was muttering incoherent words underneath his breath, lying in Clara's bed, the woman herself tried to stop a man from bleeding to death, his main artery sliced open. His girlfriend, a chubby little lady with platinum blonde hair, cry-shrieked what had happened. Her boyfriend tried to show a magic trick. Instead of landing where it was supposed to be in the first place, the sharp knife cut his neck open, releasing a spurt of red blood. Luckily for him, it was not a deep cut, but it should have hurt horribly, life juices seeping out with every thud of the man's heart. 

When Clara was done saving his existence, she closed herself in her room where a half-finished house of cards remained during the week. For a few moments, the woman did nothing but stare at this fragile construction, analyzing possible improvements in its setting. Not much could be done, anyway. She was a creature of perfection, after all, making sure the first time doing anything was an accomplishment of the highest effort. The majority of times optimal results were achieved through planning beforehand.