Without another word, he slammed the door and locked it behind him. He was sure this woman was going to be more trouble than she was worth, but it was definitely going to enjoy finding out what trouble he could get into with her.
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"Boss, I don't think it was the best idea to take her, and I think it's a worse idea to keep her. She's Thomas Wayne's sister for fuck sake, he won't just settle for the local cops; he's got enough clout to call in the feds, knowing Wayne he's probably got a direct line to Hoover himself. I think we should just ditch er somewhere." Mickey said as Joker joined the rest of the boys at the table. One of Lizzie's girls sauntered over and poured him a drink before draping herself around his shoulders.
"And where do you suggest we ditch her?" Joker asked as he swirled the drink around in his glass.
Mickey shrugged. "I don't know, but wherever it is she'll have to be a corpse; she's seen too much, she knows about this place. The bitch could finger all of us; armed robbery is one thing, kidnapping is another. I say I go out into the woods, dig a hole and put her in it."
The boys jumped as a loud bang and a scream echoed through the room. There stood Joker, a smoking gun in his hand staring down at the lifeless body of Mickey, who now had a neat extra hole between his eyes.
"DOES ANYONE ELSE FEEL LIKE QUESTIONING MY DECISIONS?" Joker growled as he glared at the other men.
"No one, but no one touches her right? If we work this right it won't matter what she knows; we can get enough money out of Wayne to start a new life out of the way of the Wayne's, Gotham and the feds. I don't give a fuck if Thomas Wayne calls in Jesus H. Christ himself, we follow my plan, we get a ransom and we get the fuck outta here."
The rest of the men looked at one another. "Yeah boss, no problem; it's a great plan." Mac said as he looked over at the lifeless body of Mickey.
"Er......what do ya want me to do with him?"
Joker looked at the dead man. "We'll use his suggestion, go into the woods, dig a hole and put him in it. For once Mickey actually had a good idea, shame it was his last." Joker chuckled as he sat back down at the table.
(Y/n) looked around the little room; a bed, a small table, a wash basin and jug, not too much to use as a weapon there she thought to herself as she walked over to look at the small window that was the only natural source of light in the room.
"Damn it!" She groaned. The thing was bolted and nailed shut; if she broke it, it would certainly alert Joker or one of his goons.
She sat tentatively back on the corner of the bed; it seemed obvious that Joker was going to try and put her up for ransom, expecting that Thomas would pay up. But (Y/n) knew Thomas better than that, she knew that he would never kowtow to a common criminal and that he would have the local police and probably the feds looking for her as soon as possible. Maybe it would be better to stay where she was and let the cops come to her. Even though there was no love lost between Thomas and Joker, it seemed as though he had no real ill will towards her, in fact, apart from him kidnapping her he had been strangley nice.
She jumped off the bed as she heard a loud bang that sounded like a gunshot followed by a scream, and then what sounded like Joker shouting. She put her ear to the door, trying to hear what was being said, but the shout had died down and everything seemed to have gone quiet once again. Groaning, she returned to the bed.
It had seemed like hours that she had sat precariously on the edge of the bed; there was no way that she was going to settle on to it any further, she knew what kind of place this was and who those women were, and she could only imagine what had happened between those sheets.
It wasn't that she judged the women for what they did, (Y/n) knew that people sometimes had to do things they didn't want to just to keep food in their bellies and a roof over their heads. She had spent many, many hours working with the poor of the city; she had seen women like these before, she had seen men like Joker before, and although she couldn't understand totally, she had certainly tried. When she had read the reports in the newspapers about Joker, there was part of her that could understand why he had done what he'd done, become what he'd become.
Gotham wasn't the easiest place to live, and Joker's alter ego of Arthur Fleck seemed to have suffered more than most. It seemed to (Y/n) that he had had a lonely life, unloved and mistreated by most of the city. His medical condition, his mother, his stays and mistreatment in Arkham, had all pushed him from being what appeared to have been a sweet, kind, innocent man into the murderous Joker. She knew of Joker's hatred for her brother, of his hatred for her last name, and how he would like to bring her family down; so no matter how much she thought she could understand, she most certainly wasn't going to make things easy for her captor.
The door to the room slowly creaked open, a large shaft of light cutting through the darkness, causing (Y/n) to shield her eyes.
"Ya hungry?" A smooth, warm voice asked from the doorway.
(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered as they adjusted to the stream of light that flooded in; finally, being able to make out a figure in the doorway.
"I brought ya some food, it isn't much but it's better than starving."
(Y/n) knew the voice; it sounded like Joker, but it seemed calmer. A small light appeared as the figure lit a candle, the light from the flickering flame caught on the features of the man. They were angular, but soft; thin and well defined, and his eyes that sparkled in the radiant glow of the wax light, gave him an unnatural beauty that she couldn't deny; and it gave her the same feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had had in the woods when he had touched her cheek.
Coming into the room he placed a plate and the candle on the small table.
"It's some kinda stew, I'm not sure what the hell's in, and I wouldn't ask too many questions if I were you, but it better than nothing." He chuckled, turning to face (Y/n).
"You've taken off your makeup." (Y/n) said, not knowing whether it was a question or a statement.
A small smile formed on his lips. "Yeah, well I can't look that beautiful all the time ya know. Not even I sleep in it."
"I think you look better without it." (Y/n) said.
"I look less intimidating anyway." Joker said, coming to rest on the bed next to her.
"I didn't find you intimidating anyway if you remember." She scoffed, making Joker laugh.
"Yeah, I guess ya right there, you ain't like the usual dames I deal with. One look at the greasepaint and most people run off like scared mice. I found your reaction quiet refreshing."
"Well I'm glad to know that I stimulate you." (Y/n) said, staring into his eyes, knowing very well that her words could mean more than one thing.
As she spoke he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her, to push her back onto the bed and pound into her relentlessly until she screamed his name over and over again; pleading for him to take her, to do whatever his heart desired to her.
Inwardly he chastised himself, she was a Wayne, and he hated the Wayne's, all of them, including her. He wanted to burn Wayne manor to the ground, to break them, to destroy their name; yet here sat the sister of the man he hated, and all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and protect her from the others, and even from himself. Hell, he'd only just shot one of his most trusted men to protect her, and part of him feared what else he would do before all this was over.
"Why do you hate my family." The question brought him crashing back to reality.
He turned to look at her; there was no anger in her eyes, it was more curiosity and a strange sadness.
"Your family, and every other rich family are what is wrong with Gotham. Oh, your brother likes to talk a good talk, but when it comes down to it, he can't walk the walk. I know all about your brother; patron of this, patron of that, champion of the poor, well its bullshit! None of you know what it's like to struggle, to fight for every cent you make; to hear shots ring out in the night and not know if one of those bullets has your name on it, to not know if today is your last day on earth. Your people think you can buy and sell people like me, that we are disposable; hell, it is cheaper to work one of us to death and hire someone else than it is to buy an animal to do the job."
Joker got up from the bed and started to pace the floor, the anger was slowly building up in him, he had to make her see, to make her understand. He didn't know why, but it was important.
"I've had to fight for everything I ever had; I used to try and bring a smile to people's faces, I used to believe that there was good in everyone, that there was hope in a dark world; but I was mistreated, I was abused and beaten, belittled and berated. Then when I had had all I could take, when I shot those three assholes and Murray on his radio show, your brother demonised me. Thomas Wayne is the man that helped make me who I am today; he made me feared, he made me powerful, he made me strong; and he is as much to blame for the burning of Gotham as I am."
Joker breathed heavily, he felt as though a great weight had been taken from his shoulders. To tell someone, especially her all this was cathartic.
"Hope."
"What?" Joker asked, she had only whispered it, but he heard it.
"Hope." She looked up at him, an uncomfortable coldness on her features.
"When Pandora opened the box, all the evils known to mankind were set free. But at the bottom of the box, weak and small, was hope. No matter how bad things seem, or how dark the night; or when it seems like there's nothing more you can do, someone will bring you that hope and show you that anything is possible." (Y/n) stood up and leaned against the window looking up into the starry sky.
"Gotham is very much like Pandora's box; it contains all that evil; evil that you and others like you have released. But I still have hope, hope for Gotham, and hope for you....... Arthur." She said softly, thinking about the dark dangerous city that she strangely loved.
"It is just a shame that you have lost yours."
There was a long period of silence before she spoke again.
"I know that you are going to ransom me back to Thomas; you're probably hoping for a big pay off, and I can assure you that Thomas will do anything and everything to get me back, but he won't give you a dime. He will call in every favour, call on every contact, every connection that he has, and he will have you hunted down like a dog." She turned to face him, the stoicism on her face sent a shiver down his spine.
"You see we Wayne's never do anything by halves, it's all or nothing; we were taught to protect one another, and that is what we do. So, if you think that either Thomas or I are going to capitulate to you, you have another thing coming. The longer you make me stay in this house of ill repute, the more I'm going to make your life as miserable as possible. You see Arthur, you are not the only one that my brother helped to create. So be ready to reap the whirlwind."
Joker couldn't help but stare, maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew, maybe the idea of having a Wayne under his control had led him to do something foolish; but it was too late now. Despite what she had said the ransom note would be sent, and Wayne would pay up. She would go back to her privileged life, with her galas and balls, and all those pretty socialite boys that probably fawned over her, and she would forget about him, and what had happened; and he, well he was a different matter.
He had told the boys that they would get away from Gotham, and maybe they would; but Joker belonged to Gotham, without it, without the fear of the populace he would be nothing again, he would be the meek and mild Arthur Fleck again, and he couldn't have that. He liked the notoriety, the power, the respect, the adoration of his followers; it was intoxicating, a heady mix of getting everything you wanted and not having to deal with the consequences of having it.
Joker knew he would die in Gotham, sooner or later he would die there in that dark dirty city; whether by a bullet from a cop's gun or by one from one of his many rivals. Joker and Gotham were and would always be one.
As he stared at the beautiful woman in front of him, a small part of him couldn't help but wish things could be different. He could envisage himself dressed in a well-tailored black tuxedo, his dark brown locks slicked back neatly over his head, drinking champagne in some swanky jazz club. And then she would appear, in a long black silk dress, flashing a brilliant smile that was meant just for him. He would take her hand and lead her to the dance floor, where they would dance the night way, forgetting that the rest of the world existed.
But that was all fanciful, they came from different worlds, and never the twain shall meet.
"Well I shouldn't keep you any longer." (Y/n) said cutting through the heavy atmosphere.
"I am sure that you have better things to do than stand here and discuss the woes of the world with me, I am just a hostage after all. I am sure that one of those.........er........ladies out there would provide the great Joker with better company than I ever could; what with me being an abusive, idiotic, corrupt, moron, that doesn't know how the real world works because I ,of course. have spent all my life in an ivory tower swimming in my money as I threw commoners to rabid dogs."
"I didn't mean you." Joker said, shaking his head and feeling uncharacteristically weak.
"But, I'm a Wayne, therefore I'm what's wrong with the city. That is what you said isn't it?" She questioned.
"Ok, if ya gonna be a bitch about it and twist my words then fine! You are as big a problem as every other rich, over privileged asshole in that city. You asked why I didn't like your family and I told you, I can't be blamed for you not liking my answer. And maybe I will go and enjoy the company of one of Lizzie's girls, cos lord knows they all want a piece of me." Joker said, glaring at her.
"Well you must be very proud that women you have to pay before they will do anything, all want you. Or maybe it's only your wallet they are interested in, because I seriously doubt there is anything else to be interested in, in your pants!" (Y/n) scoffed, her eyes slowly assessing his crotch.
"Oh, don't fight it sweetheart, you've wanted a piece of me since I walked into that office. I could feel you get all excited as you sat on my lap in the car. But I have standards, and unfortunately for you, you don't meet them." He chuckled.
"STANDARDS?! HA! Don't make me laugh. And don't flatter yourself, I wouldn't touch you even if you were the last man on the planet." (Y/n) said, her eyes as wide as saucers.
"If your standards are one of those girls out there then your right, I don't meet your standards, I surpass them. So off you pop, I don't want to keep you from those desperate women any longer." She huffed, shooing him away.
'Fine, I will." Joker said, stomping the short distance to the door.
"Good, you do that."
"Fine."
"FINE!" She yelled, crossing her arms over her chest.
"FINE!"
He slammed the door behind him and locked it. That bloody woman is gonna be the death of me, he thought to himself as he made his way to his room, a small smirk on his lips.