The Brighter Side of Darkness

Asexual Ramblings: Episode 1.5

2009-07-08T21:14:21Z

Asexual Ramblings: Episode 1.4

2009-07-08T21:08:34Z

Asexual Ramblings: Episode 1.3

2009-07-08T21:03:01Z

Asexual Ramblings: Episode 1.2

2009-07-08T20:57:18Z

Asexual Ramblings: Episode 1

2009-07-08T10:19:01Z

I don't know why it's not putting the audio in the post; it does when I post it in asexuality; I'm not sure why it's hating me here. Therefore, for parts 1.2-1.5, I'm linking you to the other posts. Sorry about that.

I pay for 20 voice posts a month so damn it, I'm going to make them!

That was sort of what was on my mind when I started rambling about asexuality into my phone tonight, and these are the end results: 3 5 podcast-y voice posts, rambling on about asexuality, the definition thereof, my own expansion on that, grey-A's/demisexuals, and why we talk about these things in public.

Episode 1:
1.1: In which I define asexuality and discuss the various types thereof.

( 1.2: In which I defend discussing my orientation with complete strangers. )

( 1.3: In which I discuss the importance of having a group to identify with. )

( 1.4: In which I discuss how sexuals view sex, need-for-sex vs. need-for-no-sex, and 'How do you know if you've never tried it?' )

( 1.5: In which I finish up and offer some advice to sexual partners of asexuals. )
_{Despite it cutting off at the end, I really am done speaking in this one.}

So . . . want me to keep posting these?

Friends Only

2009-03-18T22:12:30Z

banner by lisbuff

If you want to be added, comment here and tell me who you are and how you know me. I may or may not add you, but that's my right.

My fiction will continue to be open to the public. If you're interested in my Dark Knight fanfiction arc (Speak/Sing/Everything In Between), the community for that is speak_sing. Replying is open to anyone there, so unless the rating restriction doesn't allow you access, or you're already on my friend's list, please comment there.

(Batfic) Sing, chapter 32

2009-02-22T21:47:02Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

They liked the gardens. The gardens were clean, chilly in the early December sunlight, but Bethany had fussed over him and tucked his favourite fleece blanket around him before going to sit with Rachel and the girls. Jack tilted his head back and breathed the crisp air in deeply, revelling in the way the cold bit into his sinuses. He’d been behaving, had made remarkable progress in the laughable excuse for therapy sessions Met Gen boasted. They got to see Rachel and the girls daily. They weren’t going to pretend it wasn’t a struggle, trying to merge into one personality without alerting anyone, keeping their temper when provoked by anything, but it was worth it.

They were out of that wheelchair and out of that straightjacket, the bullet wound was healing nicely, Janet and Susie had been moved into Rachel’s room and Janet’s therapy was also going well, he heard. Dealing with the heroin was easier than the rapes she’d survived. Jack worried about her. He wondered if she hated him for what he’d let happen.

So, essentially, all they were waiting for was for Rachel to give birth. The doctors were expecting it to happen any day, any moment. Jack was hoping she lasted another week and a half, lasted until she was thirty-seven weeks along and full-term. He didn’t think that would happen, not with all Rachel had been through, but he hoped.

“He’s right there, gentlemen.”

Jack raised his head and watched two black-suited men in black sunglasses follow a middle-aged nurse toward him. He vaguely recognised her, but it was the federal agents that held his attention. He kept his hands clasped loosely between his knees as he tilted his head to the side and watched them.

“What can I do for you?” Jack asked.

“Jack Dawes?” He nodded and didn’t roll his eyes. “I’m Special Agent Byers, this is Special Agent Mencina, FBI. We’ve been sent to inform you that, due to your involvement in taking down the mob in Gotham City, the FBI has decided to . . . Overlook the fact that you deliberately withheld potentially vital information from us.”

Jack blinked and mouthed the words as he repeated the agent’s last sentence. He found it a little wordy, but otherwise understandable. “So, what, I’m not in trouble?”

“Not with the Sergeant Major of the Marines on your side.” Mencina didn’t sound please and jack just shrugged, not smiling. “No, the Pentagon’s decision is that you giving us the information on Moskowitz and Bentley would have done more harm than good, and proceeding the way you did, you managed zero civilian casualties and a complete destructuring of several major crime families.”

“Do I get to go home with my family?”

“That will be up to the Barnstable County courts,” Byers told him. “They’ll decide what to do with the minors in your care.”

Jack glanced toward Rachel’s window. “My wife can take care of them; she’s got a good support system. I don’t want those girls in foster care.”

“That’s not our decision.” The agents stood there for a moment or two longer before leaving, their errand finished.

Jack yawned and leaned back again, looking up at the blue sky and wondering how it could be so cold on such a clear day, wondering why it wasn’t raining or snowing. He didn’t want it to do either; his baby girl might get sick, on top of being premature. Metropolis simply had odd weather patterns.

“Are you visiting a family member?” the nurse asked as she returned.

He looked at her from barely-opened eyes and shrugged. “My wife’s on bed-rest. She’s going to have a baby.”

He got a grandmotherly smile as she tucked a strand of greying brown hair behind her ear. “Congratulations. Your first?”

Jack sighed again and nodded. “Yeah. A girl.”

“I’m sure she’ll be just fine. This is a good hospital; we have the best obstetricians in the state working here. May I . . . ?” Jack turned his head slightly when she gestured next to him and shrugged. He didn’t care if this woman sat next to him. He was practicing being calm, and the other one was mildly interested in her. “My son and daughter-in-law are having a baby, soon. My son and I don’t talk, but . . . it’ll be my first grandchild.”

It took a moment before social niceties kicked in and Jack mumbled an awkward congratulations. “Soon?”

“Oh, any time, now.” The corners of her brown eyes wrinkled with a smile and she was naggingly familiar, so Jack raised his head to get a better look at the woman. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years older than him, maybe less. “I work in Paediatrics. Maybe I‘ll see your little girl.”

He wasn‘t sure if he wanted that or not. “Oh. I’m Jack.”

“Noelle,” she replied after a moment’s hesitation. Then she smiled again and stood up. “Are you all right out here? Warm enough?”

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Thanks.”

“Well, don’t stay out too long. You’ll catch your death of a cold.”

Jack snorted to himself as she got up and walked back into the hospital, then looked up at Rachel’s window again. He could only visit her at specific times. He also needed to hobble his way to his stupid therapy session; at least Doctor Morgenson had insisted on being a part of the group love-fest. The good doctor was just about the only thing that kept Jack in that horrible room, talking to those idiotic lunatics, the doctor and his girls.

The good thing, Jack supposed as he got up and walked toward a different door while the guards waiting there watched him, was that he wasn’t constantly fighting to stay in control any more, and therefore wasn’t in need of as many drugs as usual.

~

“How are we, ladies? Everyone’s still with us, I see.”

Doctor Curnen was too chipper, Rachel felt. Then again, she herself had been up half the night, her stomach aching. She’d tossed and turned, but hadn’t been able to get back to sleep and wasn’t happy about it. Jack’s arms were around her, his fingers twisting in hers as he helped her to sit down on one of the available couches. Completely ignoring the one guard sent in with them, he carefully arranged himself behind Rachel, resting his chin on her shoulder after kissing her neck and crossing her arms over her chest, his own arms over them. Rachel had been surprised that the other mothers had agreed to let him in the class with her, but his attention to her and the guard’s presence had obviously put them at ease. Not that she’d been making friends, exactly.

“Are you all right?” Jack whispered in her ear. Doctor Curnen glanced at him, but kept talking about the day’s agenda.

“Just a headache,” Rachel whispered back. The Braxton-Hicks contractions had been increasing for the past day or so, but they weren’t painful.

She was laying on her side on the floor, propped up against Jack as the doctor led them through what to expect during the delivery, when she felt something run down the side of her buttock. Jack helped her move onto her back and she used that to put her hand on the floor beneath her as she moved, and it came away wet. Her eyes got big and she glanced up at Jack quickly, but he hadn’t noticed anything. Rachel swallowed and returned the slight smile he gave her before looking around for the doctor. She didn’t want to alarm Jack. He was having a hard enough time as it was. She didn’t need to spring labour on him like this, but . . .

“Rachel? Are you all right?”

She jumped and looked to the left as Doctor Curnen raised an eyebrow at her. “Uhm, I’m fine.”

The doctor walked around the small group, still talking, until she was opposite Rachel and smiled as she looked the expectant mother over carefully. Her eyebrow went up again and she nodded to herself. She took out a notepad and wrote on it, then gave it to an attending nurse. The woman read it and slipped out the door. Oh, Doctor Curnen was good. Jack didn’t pay any more attention to the doctor that entered the room a few minutes later than he did anyone coming in, looking the man over and then returning his attention to Rachel. Doctor Curnen introduced him as the head obstetrician and he made his rounds, talking quietly with each couple for a minute or so until he got to Jack and Rachel.

“How are you holding up?” he asked gently. He was looking at Jack, but glanced down just long enough to meet Rachel’s gaze.

She nodded and smiled while Jack answered. “Uhm, fine. I guess.” He watched the doctor take Rachel’s pulse, just like he’d done with the other women. It was harmless.

When he turned to Doctor Curnen, Rachel looked up at Jack and he immediately smiled down at her. He was grateful to have any time with her, and looking at her let Doctor Brooks give any message he needed to Curnen.

Which was to end the class. “All right, I’m sorry to cut class short today; there are a few things I need to get done that can’t wait. If it’s convenient, we can pick up again in, say, half an hour?”

Brooks handed Rachel a towel while Jack was looking at Doctor Curnen, then helped Jack help Rachel to stand while the rest of the couples answered the woman. “We have an exam scheduled for later this afternoon, but we can do it right now,” he said casually. “Mr. Dawes, if you’d like to sit in on it?” Jack nodded eagerly while he hugged Rachel. “Good. Right this way . . . I think we’ll use a wheelchair, Mrs. Dawes.”

There was one waiting outside the classroom and Rachel sank into it gratefully, then looked at Jack again and smiled. He breathed a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“No problem. Betty . . .” A young nurse stepped over to push the wheelchair while Brooks flipped through Rachel’s medical chart. “How have your contractions been?”

“I’ve had a lot, but they don’t hurt. Uhm, six or seven an hour since . . . Yesterday. I woke up last night really sore, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Is everything all right?” Jack broke in nervously.

“Of course,” Brooks said as he ushered them in to the elevator. “We’ll be there in a moment.”

“Do you want me to get rid of my scars?” Jack asked quietly.

Rachel looked up in surprise. “Your scars?” He nodded and she pursed her lips. “I don’t mind them; I hardly even notice them. But other people see them and associate them with the Joker, with everything you used to do.” She took his hand and kissed it, holding it was the nurse wheeled her down a new hallway. Her panties were feeling wetter by the minute. “It depends on what message you want to send to other people.”

“Oh. Are you in labour?”

She blinked up at him before smiling, and Brooks answered. “Mrs. Dawes’ water broke, is all. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Jack’s grip on her hand tightened, though. “Thirty-six weeks.”

“Which is close enough to full-term that there should be very few problems, Mr. Dawes. Don’t worry; I have years of experience with preterm births. In spite of the circumstances, Mrs. Dawes is in excellent health and I don’t expect to keep your baby in the NICU more than a week.”

Rachel saw the signs of stress that no one else saw and kissed his hand. “I’m all right, Jack. I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt?”

He was closing in on himself to keep any budding hysteria at bay. Rachel loved him. “Not yet, but I’m sure it will soon enough. I love you, Jack.”

He swallowed sharply as they entered another room. “Me, too.”

“Mr. Dawes, if you could step over there, Mitchell will give you a rundown of what’s going to happen. Betty’s going to help Rachel into a new gown and we’re going to see how much she’s dilated in the next room, first.”

Mitchell picked up from there and kept up a running commentary, his low voice soothing to Rachel, at least. Rachel was gripped with the sudden urge to see her mother. Her mother would know what to do, how to comfort Jack. She cleared her throat after a few minutes.

“Doctor . . . Is it all right . . . I mean, Jack and my mother? She knows how to keep him calm.”

Brooks paused and looked through the door’s window to where Jack was pacing, wringing his hands. Then he smiled and nodded. “I think that would be fine. Betty, get in touch with Mrs. Dawes’ mother and let her know she’s needed here. I’d like to keep as few people in the room as possible,” he explained to Rachel. “I understand your current youngest wanted to watch the birth?”

“She’s not ours; not yet,” Rachel corrected him as her heart started to speed up. “But yes, Susie wanted to watch.”

“We’ll see how it goes. She might be able to be here for the very beginning.”

“If a crazy Asian twink tries to get in, kick him out,” Jack said as Mitchell let him into the room. “She’s not really his wife.”

Brooks turned a startled look on Rachel and she shook her head as she laughed. “Our friend Hideki. Doctor Brooks says only you and Mom can be in the room,” she assured Jack. “Maybe Susie, for the beginning.”

“Morgenson gave her some IQ test and says she scored off the charts,” Jack blurted out. He sat next to the head of the bed when Mitchell gave him a chair and took Rachel’s hand. “Told you the kid’s a genius. Bona-fide. Why’s she wanna watch?”

“Because children are curious about everything, and she wants to be the first to see Ava. Plus we never told her it was going to be messy.”

Jack paused and then picked up a completely different topic, stroking Rachel’s hair back from her forehead compulsively until Bethany was ushered into the room and shooed him off.

“You’ll make her go bald,” the older woman said affectionately.

“Four years of constant sex and she’s not bald there yet, so I doubt that’s true,” he snapped back. “How long will this take?”

“You have somewhere else to be?”

He paused and then flushed, leaning over the bed to cradle Rachel’s upper body in his arms. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Brooks said from the business end of the bed. “One centimetre dilated; the contractions you’ve been feeling have been actual contractions, by the way. They’ll start to get painful soon.”

“You popped out so fast the doctor almost dropped you,” Bethany told her daughter cheerfully. “I expect Ava will be much the same.”

“Don’t you dare drop my daughter,” Jack began heatedly.

“Oh, knock it off. He knows what he’s doing.” Bethany pushed Jack down into his chair and ran her fingers through his hair as Rachel gasped.

“Oh, Christ, that hurts!” she panted after a minute or so.

Bethany’s hand on Jack’s shoulder had kept him from jumping up. “Like a menstrual cramp?” Brooks asked. Rachel nodded. “Not a problem. Don’t push. We’re really just waiting at this point. I think we can let your little girl in for a while.”

Rachel wanted to tell her mother that she was scared, but the look on Jack’s face said enough. He was worried about her and Ava both and didn’t need her own fears added to that concern. She swallowed and tried to get comfortable.

“Janet’s at the hotel,” she told Jack. He looked at her in surprise. “Dick’s really mad that you shot him.”

“Yeah, well, didn’t need him trying to be a hero and getting anyone hurt. Didn’t trust him.”

Rachel wasn’t sure how she managed to keep Jack occupied for the next hour, even with Susie’s entrance and her mother’s help. She’d been up and walking around with him until that started to hurt, then laying down and letting him rub her shoulders while her mother rubbed her feet. He was calmed down by the time Charles arrived to take Susie back to the hotel. The little girl whined for a moment, but didn’t put up too much of a fuss, and then her contractions decided they meant business. Doctor Brooks had her lay back down and then Bethany was on Rachel’s left and Jack was on her right, and Rachel was forgetting everything she’d been told in the two childbirth classes she’d attended at Metropolis General, curling in on herself and clenching her teeth with each contraction.

She wasn’t aware that Charles had bullied her way back into the delivery room until the Marine was gripping her shoulders and murmuring instructions in her ear in the tone of voice that had Jack obeying her without a thought, much less Rachel. When the latest contraction let her go, Rachel lay back and panted while Charles grabbed Jack’s ear.

“Look, you moron, would you be a good dom to your sub, already? Tell her to relax. This isn’t going to go any smoother if she keeps tensing up like that.”

Jack hissed and then looked down at Rachel, who was looking back at him while she caught her breath. He half-stood and leaned over her, one hand cupping her cheek as he kissed her firmly.

“Calm down,” he murmured in the voice she very rarely disobeyed. The other part of him was glad to be concentrating on her face, instead of the messy bits. Rachel’s eyes flew open and Jack kissed her again. “It’s all right, Rachel. Calm down. Relax.” They had three to five minutes before the next contraction and he talked to her the whole time, smiling at her, distracting her from the pain as best he could.

Rachel sucked in her breath and started to tense for another contraction, and Jack kissed her again. “Piss off,” she muttered through clenched teeth as the doctor urged her to bear down. “Don’t touch me. Keep talking to me,” she gasped out a minute later.

Jack drew back until the doctor reassured him that very few women wanted to be touched while they were in labour, then talked to her quietly with the occasional input from Charles or her mother and Rachel clung to his hand, or to Charles’ or her mother’s when he needed to sit down. The pattern repeated endlessly, it seemed, only interrupted when Brooks started telling Rachel, who had started yelling and swearing a while ago, to push. In truth, when Jack glanced up at the clock, almost nine hours had passed. Close enough to endless. He smiled down at Rachel and kissed at her nose while he transferred her grip to his other hand, shaking the now-free one in the hopes of getting the circulation flowing again.

“Almost there,” the doctor told them.

“Can I ground her for this?” Jack asked softly. Rachel rolled her eyes at him and whimpered with pain. He dabbed a damp washcloth against her forehead and that prompted a smile. “I’m going to lose the rest of my hair from this.”

“Vain,” Rachel gasped out.

Jack shrugged, his heart skipping a beat, again, when she cried out in pain. Her grip on his hand tightened and he squeezed back. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. We’re almost done.” He was going to faint. Maybe it was lack of food. Rachel suddenly relaxed in his arms, though, and he patted her cheek urgently. “Rachel? Rachel!”

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “Ava . . .”

“What?” Jack whipped his head around in time to see the doctor lift up a small bundle of white blanket and carry it to a nearby table. “Ava!” His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest.

“She’s all right,” Doctor Brooks said over his shoulder. Charles held Jack back until the doctor came over to them, holding a tiny thing in his arms. “We need to get her to the NICU, but this is your daughter.”

Jack stared at the tightly-scrunched, bluish face and thought his heart might actually stop. “That . . . She’s . . .”

“In need of the NICU,” the doctor said firmly. Rachel was craning her neck to see her child and tears filled her eyes as Brooks turned and left.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Jack sat down and looked at her in confusion. “What for? He said she’ll be fine.”

“I didn’t want her to be early.”

He paused, then slowly pulled Rachel into his arms again and rocked her as she cried. The nurses were still doing something at the other end of the bed but he ignored them, stroking Rachel’s hair and kissing her.

“It’s fine,” he whispered in her ear, “she’ll be fine. You’re both okay and that’s all I care about.”

Rachel cried herself to sleep in his arms.

~

They were whispering behind him.

“What’s he doing?”

“Counting.”

“He’s been here an hour.”

“He says she might have grown more fingers or toes while he wasn’t looking.”

“Doesn’t that entail him not looking, though?”

Jack squinted and trailed his finger just over Ava’s left foot. “Eight, nine . . . ten. Good.” He’d been in every day since her birth to just stand there and look at her, look at the tiny little thing he and Rachel had made together. Rachel was sitting behind him and twisting a bit of her skirt in her fingers. She’d been mortified at how Ava had looked at first, bursting into tears and declaring that Ava was ugly. Jack still couldn’t find fault with the infant, though. She was, he thought, absolutely perfect and today Brooks had said Rachel could try breastfeeding her.

“Still ten of each?” the doctor himself asked as he walked up.

“For now,” Jack replied happily. Even his impending incarceration in Arkham wasn’t dulling his mood. “Can I hold her today?”

Brooks’ expression was the same as the other days Jack had asked, and he didn’t push as the doctor lifted his girl out of her crib-thing and carried her over to Rachel. Jack stayed by his side and watched everything.

Rachel looked up and swallowed as she was handed her baby for the first time. She’d been in with Jack to see her, of course, and it had helped that the hotel Bruce had put them all up in was only a block away from the hospital, but it was still hard to leave each day without Ava. Jack had been allowed to stay only until Ava was sent home, then she’d be losing her husband.

She couldn’t think about that right now. She shivered and, under Charles’ supervision, moved the flap of her nursing bra/camisole aside and patiently offered Ava her nipple. It took a couple of tries and Rachel was ready to start crying again, but with Jack humming soothingly in her ear and Charles encouraging her, she held back tears until Ava had finally latched on and started suckling. Then Rachel did start to cry softly as she cradled Ava gently against her, stroking the soft cheek her little girl presented to her.

“She’s beautiful,” Rachel hiccupped. It hurt to nurse at the moment, but she wouldn’t have bottle-fed the baby for anything.

“I told you so,” was Jack’s pleased murmur. “She’s perfect.”

“She won’t eat a lot right now,” Charles said quietly. “It’s all right if she falls asleep.”

A few minutes later the preemie did just that, needing to be woken up just enough for a short burping session. Then Doctor Brooks was taking her back and Rachel protested.

“Let Jack hold her. Jack hasn’t held her.”

Brooks frowned and looked at the armed guard standing beside Jack. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dawes, according to policy ---”

“Policy my stockings,” Noelle snapped at him as she stomped up. “Melvin Brooks, you give that man his daughter. Do you know what that man went through for his family?”

“Look, Nurse McGallagher, it’s not my decision ---”

“Then you’re a terrible person,” she cut him off. “Rachel, Jack can hold his daughter.”

She turned to scold the doctor some more and Jack stared at her, something in his mind clicking at her last name in a way he wanted nothing to do with and he was just about to open his mouth and launch himself toward the woman when something small and warm was pushed into his arms. Jack looked down in shock and his arms curled automatically around Ava so she wouldn’t fall, his baby girl yawning a little in her sleep. He sat back in his chair and held perfectly still, everything in his life swept away and replaced by wonder as small eyes opened and looked up at him blearily.

“I was right,” Rachel murmured. Jack could only grunt as Ava went back to sleep in his arms. “You do look handsome holding our baby.”

Jack leaned down, very gently, and pressed a kiss to Ava’s forehead.

~

“There you are!” Tom called from the porch. “What took you so long?”

“Flew there, drove back,” Jack called back.

“Yeah, yeah, come in and let us see her!” He waved idly at the Gotham police car in the driveway. “They’re here to take you away, but they’ll let you get Rachel and the girls settled, first.”

“Tact, Tom, tact,” Helna said as she held open the screen door.

“I’m friends with Jack; it wore off.” He pulled his friend into a half-hug. “It’ll be all right, man,” he murmured in Jack’s ear. “We’ll get you back. Otherwise I have to help that Edward Nashton guy write his new novel. He just moved to town, and I hate mystery novels.”

“You better get me back,” Jack muttered as he set Ava’s car seat down by the coffee table and was pulled into a hug by Helna. “Hey.”

“You . . . You . . .”

Jack ignored her blubbering and swooped Mitzi up, giving her a kiss on the cheek before blowing a raspberry. She squealed with laughter and then he knelt and set her down.

“This is Ava, Mitzi. Be gentle; she’s very small. Remember? I told you about Ava. She’s a little early, isn’t she?”

The toddler looked up at Jack with big eyes, then down at the sleeping baby. “Ava?” Jack nodded with a grin. Mitzi giggled and then leaned over the car seat, kissing Ava’s cheek.

Jack laughed. “Hey, Tom, check it out. Your daughter’s a dyke.”

He got a toe in his backside. “She is not, Jack, she’s just being friendly.”

“Whatever; I’ve got great gaydar, and Mitzi’s a dyke.” He leaned down and took Ava out of the seat, kissing her gently and trying not to cling as he turned to Rachel. “Well.”

Tom and Helna had packed his bags. Janet was standing in the doorway to the kitchen and Susie had just discovered the kitten Jack had bought for her, squealing over the small tabby.

Jack turned to her. “Hey, Susie, give me a hug and kiss. I have to go away for a while.”

“How long?” she asked as she hugged him.

Jack squeezed her tight and smiled when she kissed his nose, returning it with a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t know. Not --- not everyone thinks I’m a hero. I’ll be back as soon as I can. You just, just be a good big sister to Ava, all right? Do what Rachel says, and help Janet. Take care of them for me, all right?” There was a lump in his throat that he was having difficulty talking past.

“Daddy . . .” Susie looked at the two officers outside the window and wiped tears away. “Is it because I shot those men?”

Jack was going to start crying. “No, baby, it’s not because of you at all. I’m in trouble, not you. Never you.” He stood up and looked at Janet, who had tears running down her face. “I’m sorry.” She turned and ran to her bedroom, sobbing. Finally Jack turned to Rachel and walked with her out onto the porch. He handed Ava to her after another kiss for his baby, and the infant’s cheek was wet when Rachel took her. “Rachel ---”

His voice broke and Jack leaned down, burying his face in the crook of Rachel’s neck as they both sobbed. He kept apologising, promising her it was only until after the criminal trial, and Rachel pretended they both believed that.

After a few minutes Jack draw back and wiped his face off on his sleeve, then kissed Rachel firmly.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love all of you. Don’t --- don’t forget that.”

“We won’t,” she told him, then Jack had to turn away or risk refusing to go at all. He turned to the two officers and closed his eyes as he nodded, letting them cuff him and read him his rights as they led him to the police car.

It was a long ride back to Arkham Asylum.

And that's it. The end. The last few chapters were difficult to write, simply because I was getting really burned out, and it showed. I'm sorry about that. I hope the last couple of chapters make up for that, and there will be another sequel. I'm going to take a break from it for a while, though, and work on a couple other fics I've been wanting to write. Thank you, everyone, for reading and sticking with me! I'll be around, and the next fic will be happier. Promise!

(Batfic) Sing, chapter 31

2009-02-21T04:54:48Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

“Have you seen him?” Rachel demanded as soon as Charles was in the door. “Is he okay? What about Janet?”

“He’s awake, restrained, and howling for you, as Nurse McGallagher predicted. The FBI’s trying to question him. Janet’s . . .” Charles sighed. “They’re still examining her. Diana’s staying with her. The lassos and super-strength are comforting.” She shook her head when Rachel opened her mouth. “The exam can take up to four hours. That’s all. Morgenson is with Jack.”

“Oh, God, he’s going to say all the wrong things,” Rachel groaned. “Who is he right now?”

“Hard to know. He’s not very coherent. All anyone can get out of him is that he wants his family.” She sat down next to Rachel and watched her. “Do you want to see him?”

Rachel blinked at her. “Of course I do. He --- I ---” She waved her hands in frustration. “He needs to know that Ava’s all right. I need to know that he’s all right. Will they let him see me?”

“I’ll ask. They respond well to Marines.” She was wearing her Marine Corps dress uniform, the gold-on-red Master Sergeant rank clearly visible against the dark blue of her tunic, her medals covering her left breast and her service ribbons covering her right breast. She had a lot of both; Rachel hadn’t realised her friend was quite so decorated. “Superman!” she called. Her voice carried easily and the curtain to the balcony twitched.

“What can I do for you?” the tall, raven-haired man asked from behind it.

“You can come in here so I’m not yelling, for one. Secondly, I need you to bring Jack in here once I get permission.”

“If Noelle’s around,” the man said with a charming grin, “you’re on your own.”

“You’ll do it, or I’ll tell everyone you can’t legally run for President.”

His eyebrows went up. “I was born on America soil.”

“You hatched on American soil,” Charles returned. “You hatched. There’s a difference. And even if you can convince the public that that qualifies as ‘birth,’ you still can’t be President because your parents weren’t American citizens. You have to be a natural-born citizen, whose parents were American. Adoption doesn’t count, bucko. Now let’s get Jack before they kill him.” She bent and kissed Rachel’s forehead. “We’ll be back, Rachel.”

“Kiiiii-yah!”

Superman didn’t look down when Susie came flying out of the bathroom at him, latching on to his leg and biting for all she was worth. He gave no indication that he even noticed her, walking quite normally out the door with another winning smile for Rachel.

“Susie, leave him alone! Come back here, Susie!”

“It’s no problem,” the caped man assured her as he picked Susie up and foisted her over his shoulder. She was growling and snapping at him, but seemed content to be carted like a sack of potatoes. “Susie and I are great friends, aren’t we?”

“Die, fascist militant scumbag!”

Rachel raised an eyebrow at Superman. He had the grace to look embarrassed. “Well. We‘re working on it.” He glanced out the door as Charles snapped for him to hurry. “Ah . . . Are you all right alone? It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. There’s an officer outside the door.”

“I’ll be fine,” she managed to say. “Just get my husband.” She closed her eyes against the suddenly oppressive emptiness of the room, tensing more and more as the minutes went by. Ava turned over and Rachel immediately rubbed her stomach. She was trying not to cry. “We’re safe,” she whispered. “We’re safe, Ava. Daddy saved us. Daddy,” and she choked up a bit, “Daddy will be here soon.” She hoped. Oh, God, she hoped they’d let her see Jack. She needed to see him. He needed to see his baby girl. If he was screaming for her then the Joker must not have been able to take him over completely. She couldn’t raise this baby on her own. She couldn’t lose Jack.

Rachel was sobbing quietly when there was a gentle knock on the door. Embarrassed to be seen in such a state --- her eyes red and puffy, her nose dripping, her hair a complete mess --- she tried to make some order of her appearance as the door opened. The sight of her mother, though, just made her break down again.

“Oh, God, Rachel . . .” Bethany went to her daughter and held her tightly, stroking her hair as both women cried. “I was so worried about you . . . You’re safe now, baby, you’re safe, it’s all right . . .”

“It’s n-not,” Rachel moaned. “They’re g-going to t-take J-J-Jack from m-me. We’ll ne-ne-never ---”

“Shh, they won’t,” Bethany cooed. She pressed a kiss to Rachel’s temple.

“B-but, Ava ---”

“Rachel, listen, Ava’s all right. I talked with your doctors. They said Ava’s all right. She’ll probably be early, but she’s just fine. Jack was smart, Rachel, he did a lot of good things for Gotham this time. They shouldn’t put him on trial for anything.” She was rubbing Rachel’s back firmly, letting her child cry herself out as the stress from the past three weeks finally found an outlet.

Half an hour later Rachel had cried herself to sleep and Bethany sat with her, holding her hand as she watched her only child. Alfred had been and gone, making sure they had a hotel room for at least the night. They’d agreed to take turns sitting with Rachel while the other made arrangements for clothing and personal items to be brought down from Loleta, kept Susie occupied, and took care of whatever might need taken care of for the next few months. There was so much to do, and she’d almost lost her daughter.

Bethany’s shoulders shook as tears fell once again. Rachel didn’t deserve this. Janet and Susie didn’t deserve this. Even Jack didn’t deserve this, Jack who called Bethany in the middle of the night when he was overcome by he and Rachel’s relationship, when he didn’t know how to handle it on his own any more and needed someone to guide him. Jack, who was subconsciously waiting for Rachel to leave him, who told Bethany of his fears of fatherhood, of something happening that would take him away from his daughter. To him, such a simple life was too good to be true. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop . . .

She was afraid that it just had. Bethany wiped her face clean with the tissues on the stand next to the bed before going into the bathroom and wetting a washcloth. She dabbed at Rachel’s face as Susie’s voice drifted in to her; hopefully they’d be bringing Jack in, too. They all needed to know that everyone was all right. Bethany covered her mouth and fought back tears when she remembered Janet. She’d been told the girl was being treated for heroin addiction and rape.

“--- so I bit him.”

“Did you, now.”

“Yeah . . . It hurt my teeth.”

“He is the Man of Steel, you know.”

“He could have pretended.”

Dr. Morgenson chuckled as he pushed the door open. “Mrs. Dawes?”

“Rachel’s asleep,” Bethany replied. She stood up and had to sit back down when the psychiatrist wheeled Jack in. Her son-in-law was bound to a wheelchair at the wrists, elbows, ankles, waist, and chest, with two police officers on either side of him. Susie was pushing the chair, with Morgenson’s help. “Oh, Jack . . .”

He didn’t seem to notice her. He looked terrible in that hospital gown, with his hair in his bruised face and his scars twisting into a snarl. His dark eyes were trained on Rachel and his hands clenched. He whined a little and strained against his bindings, but all that accomplished was raised firearms.

“She’s all right,” Morgenson said firmly. “She’s just sleeping. Look at the monitors, Jack. Rachel’s asleep.”

Jack did look, his gaze darting around the room. He was checking the monitors and for any intruders --- and potentially, Bethany realised with a shiver, for a way to escape. She cleared her throat and straightened when that brought his animalistic attention to bear on herself.

“She’s been asleep for about fifteen minutes. Do you want me to wake her up?” He blinked at her, then looked back at Rachel and leaned forward as far as he could, whining again in the back of his throat. “Jack, answer me.”

He rolled his eyes back and up, toward Morgenson, then looked at Rachel again. “. . . No. Let me hold her hand.”

“You’re not allowed out of the restraints.”

“Let me hold her hand,” Jack snapped. The officer who had spoken frowned down at him. “What am I going to do with one hand? I need to be closer.” He was wheeled next to the bed at Morgenson’s approval and Bethany scooted out of the way. There were unnoticed tears falling down Jack’s face and Bethany took Rachel’s hand and brought it down to his. He choked a little and held her fingers gently, his own hand shaking as he bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry . . .”

Morgenson knelt by Susie and smiled at her. “You’re a very smart girl, Susie. Do you want to find out exactly how smart you really are?”

“You can do that?” she asked in awe. “Daddy says I’m a freaking genius. That’s smarter than a regular genius.”

“I can,” the man said with a soft laugh. Rachel shifted in the bed and he glanced up, then held his hand out. “Let’s go find out, all right?”

The child looked at Jack and Rachel, then at Bethany. “Is it all right, Gramma?”

“Of course it is,” Bethany told her as she got up. She waved the two officers out. “Wait outside; give them a little privacy, for heaven’s sake.”

“Ma’am, we were given orders ---”

“Just do it,” Bethany snapped.

“Time alone with Rachel will be good for Jack’s mental stability right now,” the psychiatrist seconded. “Come along, Susie.”

Jack stared at Rachel’s hand before raising his eyes to her face. She was laying on her side and someone had tucked some pillows around her to keep her comfortable. Her fingers were warm against his.

“I should leave,” he murmured. It hurt to think it, much less say it. “You’re all better off without me.”

“I need you,” Rachel whispered.

Jack looked up quickly and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I’ve managed to destroy almost everything. No one will ever let me near Ava or the girls again. It’s not . . . safe . . .”

“Will he try to hurt them?”

Jack shook his head before shrugging. “He says he won’t. I don’t . . . Look, this, a, a family, people to love and be loved by, it’s what we always wanted. We never got it, but . . . we wanted it. He’s willing to . . . step aside. Stay out of the way. He brought me out, so we’re . . .” Jack sighed and lowered his head. “I don’t know. Integrating, whatever you want to call it. He likes this Jokester idea people’ve got now. He thinks Gotham’s his, he should be the only one causing mayhem. If we’ve done this right, hopefully the FBI will overlook us not telling them about Anita and Maury. We took down almost the entire mob, and the police should have enough information to crack down on the rest. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Rachel’s hand left his, then her fingers pressed gently against his chin until Jack looked up at her again. “Jack. Listen to me.” He leaned toward her when she ran her fingers through his curls, scratched his scalp gently. “I love you. Janet and Susie love you. Ava loves you --- yes, she does. Trust me. You are the best thing to happen to all of us, and I don’t want to split this family up. But it’s not going to be up to us.” He closed his eyes and hunched inward a little. Rachel shifted so she could touch him more comfortably. “I think you have a point about the FBI, but I’ll talk with Bruce and see what his lawyers think; you know he’s going to insist on paying for whatever happens.”

Jack snorted, opening his eyes once more. Rachel struggled until she was sitting up, then slowly eased off of the bed and into her husband’s lap despite his half-hearted protests. She wrapped her arms around him and he rested his cheek against her breast, inhaling deeply.

“I need you, both of you, on your absolute best behaviour. I’ve been thinking about what might happen and how we need to handle it. What’s left of the mob will be put on trial. Their lawyers will do their best to make you into the bad guy.” Rachel rested one palm on Jack’s cheek and leaned her forehead against his. “No sarcasm, Jack,” she whispered. “No tantrums. Cooperate. Don’t give anyone anything to use against you, please.”

“The better-behaved I am, the more likely it is they won’t take you away from me?” he asked.

Rachel bit her lower lip and blinked back tears. “The more likely it is they won’t keep us apart forever.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “They’ll send me back to Arkham, won’t they? Even if everything goes perfectly.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t think of anything that will keep you out of that place. I don’t ---” Rachel’s voice caught and she took a few panting breaths to calm herself down before continuing. “I don’t want you to go. But for Ava, for Janet and Susie . . .”

“The state will need to know I’m not a threat to my children,” Jack finished quietly. He leaned his head back and fought against the other’s anger. They’d known something like this would happen. It wasn’t a big surprise. Painful to have confirmed, yes, but not surprising. “How long do you think I’ll be there? Will they let you --- no, I don’t want you near that place. Not you, not Ava, not anyone.”

“We’ll see about visits,” Rachel promised. “I can’t guess how long you might be there, but if you behave no matter what, I’m positive that we’ll be able to work out a, a day or weekend out of Arkham.”

“Eventually,” Jack murmured.

Rachel nodded. “Eventually.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I didn’t want this to happen. I just wanted . . . I wanted you all to be safe.”

“Well, you should have included you in that wish, man. Saved us all a lot of grief,” Tom mumbled from the doorway. Jack and Rachel both looked up in surprise. Tom was leaning against the wall, bandages criss-crossing the lower half of his face and leaving his lips uncovered. “Told ‘em it was just a hunch, out by Folsom. Dunno if they believed me. Glad you’re alive.”

“You, too,” Jack muttered. “Help Rachel lay back down.”

She didn’t protest, just reached her hand out for Jack’s again, once she was nestled securely in the bed. “How are you healing?” she asked.

Tom snorted and ghosted his fingers over his cheeks. “Some crazy singer chick paid for the surgeries.” He sat down next to Jack with a sigh. “Never paid attention to what doctors can do these days. They say the nerves’ll grow back just fine, and no one’ll ever be able to tell I was cut up like a turkey.” He looked at Jack. “You ought to consider it.”

“They’re a part of me.”

“An old part. Outdated.” Tom waved his hand as Jack frowned. “Whatever. I’m doped up, man. Get to go home today. Tomorrow. Soon.” Then he groaned. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine,” Jack muttered. “Look, I’ll be in Arkham for a while. Maybe a long time. I need you to look after Rachel and the girls for me.”

Tom was quiet for a long time before he nodded. “No problem, Jack. Anything you need.”

“I’m sorry I got you hurt.”

The other man snorted. “Wasn’t your fault. Thought I could handle it; I was wrong. How long are you in here for?”

Jack shrugged. “Just got out of surgery. Dunno.”

“Yeah, I heard Janet shot you. Lucky girl.”

Jack scoffed. “You know what? Fuck you. After all the good shit I did for Gotham and everyone, not one damn person takes pity on me for being shot. I swear, I am never going to help again. Ever.”

Rachel was smiling at him. “I’m sorry you got shot, Jack. I’m glad you’re all right.”

That mollified him somewhat, but Tom was snorting with laughter and Jack glared at him. “You’re lucky I’m strapped down, Tom.”

“Don’t I know it,” his friend agreed cheerfully. “They’ve had me seeing a shrink while I’m here. Think they’ll put you in the psych ward while you recuperate from your, ah, battle wounds?”

Jack glared at him again, then shrugged. “I was hoping for that bed right there,” and he jerked his chin at the other bed in the room, “but I doubt they’ll let me have it.”

“I think I managed to talk the doctor into putting Janet and Susie in here, once Janet’s cleared,” Rachel offered. “They’re doing what they can to keep us together. Mom and Alfred are taking care of . . . well, whatever we need taken care of, here and at home.”

“What about the kitten?”

“We’ll take it, for now,” Tom offered. “Can you keep the foster system from taking the girls?”

“Rachel’s Bruce-fucking-Wayne’s best friend,” Jack said. “They don’t stand a chance. I may not be a fit parent, but Rachel’s more than fit. With me out of the way ---”

“Stop it, Jack. Don’t talk like that!”

“It’s true,” he argued. “With me in Arkham, Janet and Susie will be fine with you. Besides, Janet’s got, what, a year and a half until she’s eighteen? I’m sure I’ll be in Arkham for at least that long.” He hated thinking about it. “When she’s eighteen she can petition for custody of Susie, if she wants. Weren’t you saying the house was left to them? I mean, Mary’s house? No mortgage or anything, right?”

Rachel closed her eyes with a heavy sigh. “True. But that doesn’t mean you’re staying in Arkham for the rest of your life.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Bunny, if I wanted out of Arkham, nothing could stop me. But I’ll stay until I’m cleared to leave. It just . . . might take a while.”

There was a knock on the door. “Rachel? Jack?”

“Come in, Bethy,” he called.

She smiled at him and Rachel. “You look better.”

He twisted his face into a scowl when she kissed his cheek. “You think it’s funny that I got shot, too, don’t you?”

“Not at all. I think it’s hilarious that it was a sixteen-year-old girl who shot you, but I don’t think it’s funny that you got shot.”

“Even the people who are on my side think it’s funny,” Jack muttered. He looked up at the police officers who had come in and sighed. “Fine, fine, take me away. I’m cooperating, see? See how cooperative I’m being? Wait. Hold up.” Jack looked back at Rachel. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered with a smile.

(Gundam Wing fic) Paint it Pastel, 1-3/? (5/R)

2009-02-20T14:51:34Z

Taking a breather from The Dark Knight and diving into GW again. This is a fic I've thought a lot on, but haven't written on since 2005. Oooh. Yay, me. Anyway, here are chapters 1-3, and I'll be adding more shortly.

Warnings/disclaimers/etc.: Standard disclaimers apply. I originally wrote this under the pen-name Sailor Zoisite, the Wannabe Shinigami; if you've read it before, I'm not plagiarizing, it's my own work. Later chapters will be longer (I have a 3k word minimum these days).

Chapter 1

One person in a king-sized bed should be the eighth deadly sin.

There was far too much room. Too much space in which to wallow shamelessly, luxuriating in the barely-awake feeling of a morning well-spent sleeping in as long as Duo-ly possible, feeling the warmth of the sunlight through the blinds, the near-stuffiness of the room in mid-morning.

Relena rolled over onto her stomach and threw one leg across her blankets and the body pillow next to her, cuddling it close and heaving a great big yawn as she nestled deeper into her covers. A sin, indeed.

***

Wufei leaned his head against the headrest and glance out of the corner of one dark eye at Duo.

"We're going where?"

"Relena's flat."

"To do what?"

"Paint it."

"And she . . ."

"Doesn't know."

"And this is . . ."

"Perfectly acceptable. She'll love us for it. I might get laid."

Wufei pursed his lips gently and pondered his next words. What came at the end of Duo's sentences didn't always have to do with what came at the beginning. "Do you do this often? By whom?"

"Never. Some girl I met at the club. Hey, look, she's still in bed. Awesome."

Wufei glanced up as Duo pulled his truck into the driveway and killed the engine. Relena lived in a rather upscale area of the town; her living room was probably as big as his apartment, but then, most living rooms were. Preventers housing was crap.

It had to be the top story. Then again, the buildings were only two storeys high, but still. It was the principle of the thing. Wufei sighed and unbuckled, then paused only slightly when he saw Heero and Trowa standing by the doors. Trust Duo to cause as much havoc with as many people's lives as possible. He'd never even formally met Relena. Well, nine on a Sunday morning was as good a time as any, he guessed.

"---room tannish-red shades, and her bedroom maybe in blues or greens, what do you think?" Duo was saying as Wufei got to the little group.

"I think she'll blow a gasket if you bring puce anywhere near her home," Heero remarked. Trowa started laughing.

"Trowa, it wasn't that funny," Duo half-snapped with a slight grin. Trowa sniggered once more, then fell silent. They flashed their badges at the doorman, who opened the doors with a nod and ushered them through. The dismay he must have felt at seeing them decked out in coveralls and olds shirts, jeans and sneakers, all well-worn, torn and stained, hauling painting gear for an entire house between the three of them, didn't register for an instant.

High class, indeed.

***

Relena roused briefly; she could have sworn she'd heard her front door open. There was no more noise, and besides, only Heero and her brother had keys, and they both called ahead. She nestled back down, asleep again almost before she stopped moving.

***

Duo grinned and surveyed the living room. It was spacious, with very little furniture. Not that Relena went without; everything she had was functional, practical, and probably cost more than Wufei made in a year. A couch, a set of armchairs, a coffee table and four tables did little to fill up the space of her living room. And Wufei had been right. It was bigger than his apartment.

"Right," the long-haired man said softly. "Let's get the furniture moved." He, Heero and Trowa started moving with much purpose, and Wufei lagged behind.

She had real hardwood floors. Redwood, if Wufei had any guess. Aside from the palatial living room, her kitchen was gigantic. It even had a real fireplace big enough to roast a hog. True, a middle-sized one, but a hog nonetheless. It was all warm browns, tans and reds in the kitchen, making it cosy and rustic, and there was plenty of evidence that the woman cooked.

In fact . . .

Feeling slightly guilty, Wufei sidled over to a gently steaming pot on the stove and lifted the lid a bit. The aroma that met his nose made his stomach clench and his knees go weak. Spaghetti sauce. Not just any spaghetti sauce, either. This had been simmering for at least a day, and it was full of good meat and chunks of tomatoes and other ingredients and . . . Wufei inhaled deeply and closed his eyes to savour the aroma even better. Cinnamon. The woman knew how to use cinnamon in cooking. He was in love.

He snorted to himself with a smile and set the lid down again, lest he ruin her sauce, and poked around a bit more. This high-class, straight-out-of-Better Homes and Gardens North American Southwestern Edition-kitchen was well-used and well-loved. There were herbs hanging up to dry, and more growing in pots and dishes around the place. The dining room was good-sized; about a quarter the size of the living room, making it half again the size of the kitchen. It was done in whites and pastels, though not much of those, making it very fresh and open. White lace curtains moved gently in a slight breeze and the cedar table gleamed in the light. The chairs matched, with white cushions that went with the white tablecloth.

She certainly knew how to colour-coordinate, Wufei mused. That was, if she'd had any hand in it. He filed through his library until he found her book and glanced through it, then nodded and wandered back into the living room. She lived alone, so it wasn't a roommate's doing.

Then again . . . He leaned against the wall as he watched the three other men work. They certainly seemed to know what they were doing.

"I think you lied to me, Duo," he called out. Duo glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "I think you've been redecorating Miss Darlian's home for her."

He got an unabashed grin. "Yeah, you caught me. She'll yell when she gets up, but don't worry. She doesn't mean it, or she'd have gotten a restraining order against me by now."

Wufei let out a chuckle and moved to help Trowa with the couch. Duo was already laying out plastic to cover the floor, and Wufei took in the obnoxious shade of gray the walls were. They definitely had to go.

"Why not go with a mixture of the kitchen and dining room colours?" he asked.

Duo paused, then bit his lower lip. "So they blend together?" he asked. Wufei grunted an affirmative. "Hey, you know, that works! I don't have much of either one left; I was going to send you for more." He got a glare and laughed. "Right. Okay. Let's do that. Heero?"

The Japanese man shrugged and crouched over the paint cans, counting and wiggling his fingers. Duo started directing Wufei and Trowa, and together they worked to move the living room's furniture and pictures to the middle, where their work on the walls would be undisturbed.

***

Relena finally gave up on sleeping and opened her eyes to the sounds of male laughter and the sweet, toe-curling smell of her mother's spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. She inhaled deeply and then rolled her eyes, debating on yelling at Duo, but figured it'd do more harm than good and anyway, at least she didn't have to paint her flat alone.

She got up and pulled a robe on, then padded to her door and opened it. She belted the robe as she walked down the hallway, then paused and smiled as she entered the living room.

"What's that palace of yours got to say about heat sensors?" Duo was asking. She shook her head. He just wanted to blow things up, he really did.

"Let me look."

That was a voice she hadn't heard before, and Relena turned to the speaker. He was Asian, with tanned skin and glossy black hair. His features were strong, proud, and he held himself with a self-possession that had nothing to do with bravado or arrogance and everything to do with strength and competence. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, then let his breath out slowly and opened them again. Relena frowned as she worked around Duo's question and the man's behaviour.

"Northeast tower, dragon statue in jade . . ." He rambled off technical jargon that would have gone completely over Relena's head in any case, but she was staring now, her mouth open in shock.

"You have a memory palace?" she blurted out.

***

"You have a memory palace?"

All three men turned sharply at the surprised and surprising soprano from the hallway. Trowa grabbed his shirt and pulled it on quickly, Heero paused mid-stroke, Duo turned with a quizzical expression on his face and the man with the palace looked at her with raised eyebrows, flushing a little.

"Relena, this is Wufei. Wufei, Relena. He's with us," Duo said helpfully.

Relena ignored him and fixed Wufei with a penetrating stare, pushing away from the wall and coming at him. Wufei swallowed and tensed, very sorry he'd poked around her kitchen.

"You have a memory palace?" she repeated.

He blinked, then his mind caught up with events. He coughed. "Ah, yes. Yes, I do. You've heard of them?"

"Is today the day for dumb questions, or what?" Heero asked irritably. "Come on, the paint's drying."

Relena forgave them the intrusion into her space and focused on Wufei, who looked uncomfortable, but also curious.

"I've read about them," she answered. "I'd like to know more. Tell me?"

"Of course," Wufei replied. He blinked at her again, then cleared his throat. "Of course," he repeated.

Chapter 2

Wufei wasn't looking at Relena's ass. The jeans she'd slipped into had designs on the back pockets, and he was trying to figure out the Celtic knotwork. Besides, they were pretty.

His gaze moved up, over the curve of her back as she knelt on her hands and knees to paint one corner, as the other three had strictly forbidden her to do much heavy work. She'd submitted with a well-practice eye-roll, which left the curve of her neck open to Wufei's viewing. He tilted his head as he finished his perusal, then turned back to the counter where he'd been tasked with cutting up celery for a snack and came face-to-face with a slightly pointed, furry cream-and-gray head sticking out of the open cupboard.

Wufei yelled in surprise and jumped back, and the animal squealed and then chittered angrily at him before leaping out of the cupboard and scrambling across the room. It hit Relena just as she'd completed her hasty turn at the sound of Wufei's shout and started chittering at her, and she cradled the creature gently, crooning to it as she stroked and fondled the silky pelt.

"Nimitz! Oh, you poor thing! Did he scare you?"

"Did I scare it?!" Wufei gasped, holding one hand to his chest. "What in Buddha's name is that thing?!"

She glared at him and huffed, rubbing her cheek against it's long, sinuous body. "His name in Nimitz," she said a bit coldly, "and he is a ferret."

Wufei glared back out of reflex, then closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He held it a moment, then slowly let it out and smoothed his expression as he opened his eyes again.

"All right," he said calmly. "All right. He startled me. I apologize for over-reacting."

It wasn't as stiff as Relena had thought it would be. She nuzzled Nimitz some more as he decided that now was the time to play dead and flopped over in her hands, then smiled all of a sudden and stood up.

"Okay. You're forgiven. I'm sorry I snapped at you." She walked up to Wufei and held Nimitz up a bit shyly. "Friends?"

Wufei looked down at the 'dead' ferret, which was starting to snore, and couldn't resist the urge to smile. "Friends," he confirmed, and reached up to gently scratch the critter's ears. "Nimitz, eh? He's got the right colouring, too."

Relena blushed and shrugged, beaming down at the ferret. "I admit, I used my position, money, and popularity shamelessly to hassle some poor breeder into breeding him just for me." She giggled.

Wufei raised an eyebrow, amused despite his best efforts. "He's a splendid specimen, I'm sure."

Her gaze flicked up to his face and then down again, cheeks heating once more. "He's my baby," she said simply. "Now, how about that celery and peanut butter?"

Wufei rolled his eyes and turned back to the kitchen. "I'm almost done."

He saw Relena sling Nimitz over her shoulder and follow him. "I'll help. They'll be grouching at me to take a break soon, anyway."

"Why is that?"

He knew the instant it left his mouth that it was the wrong question. Relena went very still for a moment, her slender shoulders tensing, and Nimitz raised his head as he felt his mistress' discomfort.

"My apologies; knowing all three of them, it was a stupid question." Relena looked at him sharply with guarded eyes and Wufei gave her a hesitant grin. "After all, if they're intent on painting your whole house --- excuse me, apartment --- with or without your permission, it's fairly obvious they have something to prove by it." A flash of a smile crossed her lips at the poke at her apartment, and Wufei shrugged. "I, however, have absolutely nothing to prove and thus am quite content to cut celery." She was starting to smile, and he tried one more time. "Besides, they're such babies at work, they must need to baby you as much as possible to make up for it, if that's even possible."

Relena broke into a real grin and laughed just a bit, and Wufei relaxed. He didn't know how or why, but he'd hit a sore spot and resolved to watch his tongue much better from now on.

"Now, about a memory palace," he offered, lilting his voice to make it a suggestion, and had the satisfaction of seeing all of Relena's tension melt away as her eyes lit up.

***

Duo, Trowa and Heero relaxed as Wufei and Relena disappeared into the kitchen, the ferret changing hands, absorbed in the conversation about memory palaces.

Duo blew out his breath noisily. "That could have been bad."

"He handled it well," Trowa pointed out.

Duo shrugged and glanced at Heero with a raised eyebrow.

Heero returned the shrug. "He'll do fine. She's wearing tighter pants."

This made the other two grin. "She doesn't realize she does that, does she?" Duo asked. It was rhetorical, but Heero and Trowa both shook their heads. "Oh, well. Back to work."

Chapter 3

Relena came out of the bathroom with a towel on her head and Nimitz in the towel. The cream-and-gray ferret was burrowed deep into the soft cloth, holding some treat or other in his paws and nibbling delicately on it as he watched the proceedings from his perch. Wufei's three companions treated it as normal, so Wufei himself merely shook his head and then flushed when Relena caught his eye and winked.

"When I first got him, he'd followed me into the shower and then crawled out," she told him, "and when I went to wrap my hair up, I found him in the towel. It's been his spot ever since."

"Does he bathe with you often?" Wufei cringed a bit as soon as the words left his mouth, but Relena just grinned.

"Oh, yes. Every time. He doesn't always get washed --- too much and his skin gets too oily, you know --- but he loves baths. Now, how about some lunch, boys?"

Wufei fell silent as the other three voiced their enthusiastic agreement, pondering the woman in front of him. She was remarkably different around people she was comfortable with, and it intrigued him. He sat silently at the table as she served them, head lowered slightly as he watched her move. She had an easy, approachable manner, playful and laughing with her friends. It was . . . freer than her public persona, which was what most everyone knew.

"You're awfully quiet," she said suddenly, and Wufei raised his head and eyebrows as he looked at her.

"He's just shy," Duo snickered.

Wufei glowered at him briefly. "There is no shame in being shy," he stated in a low voice.

Relena twinkled. Wufei had read the description, but never actually witnessed it, yet he was fairly sure that Relena was twinkling. It was in the tone of her smile, the way her eyes crinkled up in it, the look on her whole face.

"But what if you want to get laid?"

Duo glanced at Relena quickly, but she was still twinkling at Wufei, who dragged a hand down over his eyes and then rolled them upward, mouthing what was probably a prayer for patience.

"Some girls like quiet men," Relena murmured demurely. Duo gave her a Look and then rolled his eyes and waved his fork dismissively.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Wufei may have been a tad uncomfortable with the conversation, but Trowa was turning an interesting shade of red and Wufei arched an eyebrow. He saw Relena's eyes widen out of the corner of his eye and his lips tugged up at one corner.

"How's Catherine?" he asked.

The look Trowa shot him was thankful. "She's fine. Decided that she wants to study anthropology."

Wufei let the conversation roll around him, savouring the meal. Relena was a good cook. Better than good, in fact, and he said so.

He had the pleasure of seeing the blush rise to her cheeks. "Thank you," she said softly, smiling.

"Thank you," he replied. "This is the best meal I've had in ages."

The blush deepened. "Now you're just teasing me," she protested.

"I am not. I can't cook, myself, and generally eat in the mess hall."

"But, Wufei, most everything's better than the mess hall."

"Duo . . ." He hesitated. It was rude, after all, to use strong language in front of a lady.

"Shut the fuck up, Duo," the lady cut in. Wufei blinked and she turned scarlet. "Uhm . . . I'm sorry." It was a whisper and Relena covered her face with both hands. "It just kind of . . . happened."

Duo choked. "Yeah," he coughed, "I hate it when that happens."

"I've had enough of your sexual innuendo, Duo," Heero said sharply. "Cut it out."

Duo sketched a mock salute and peered around, then nodded in satisfaction. "I'm pretty good at this decorating business," he said.

Relena made a face as she tried to suppress her smile. "I refuse to comment."

"Go on, be good to my ego. It needs it."

"It needs to be taken down a few notches," Wufei stated, then pointed with his fork. "You missed a spot."

"What? Oh, fuck."

In the upper corner by the door was a vaguely triangular patch of the same dreary gray that three quarters of Relena's living room still was, glaringly obvious against the pristine white of the dining room walls. Wufei and Relena shared a triumphant smile as Heero berated Duo for his language and Trowa chuckled softly.

"You've got a good eye," she murmured as the others started arguing.

She'd scooted her chair closer to him and Wufei shrugged. "I need one," he replied. "Having a memory palace helps, as well."

Her eyes lit up again. "And you can use anything to start with, correct?"

He nodded. "Any structure you wish, provided you can memorize it completely. I would recommend starting small; you don't need an actual palace right away, because you'll be adding rooms and trinkets."

"That makes sense. So . . . start with a room you know, and memorize it. Then you put something --- say a speech --- next to, oh, this spoon, and pass through the room and pick it up when you need it."

Wufei took a quick drink of milk and dabbed at his lips. "Yes, or it can actually be the object. Personally, I use books." She raised both eyebrows after a brief hesitation, and Wufei hid a smile when he realized that she couldn't raise just one and had tried. "I have a book for everyone I know, or know of, that is . . . customized, you might say, to what I know of them, and I put what I know about them inside. It was what was easiest for me to do when I was younger."

"So . . . an annoying shade of puce for Duo, then?"

They both laughed and ignored the sudden silence from their companions. "Not quite puce, I would say, but certainly his cover is . . . eye-catching. When I learn something new, or have a new observation or whatnot, I just add it in. Some books are thinner than others, naturally." And her was getting bigger all the time, he didn't add. Maybe she already knew it.

Relena was fascinated. All the reading on the subject of memory palaces that she'd done had just confused her; it was much better to talk with someone who had one.

"Could a place be used?" she asked suddenly. "Not a room, is what I mean."

"As in a lake or a forest?" Wufei shrugged. "Whatever you like. I've never tried that . . ." He frowned as he thought about it, then smiled and shook his head. "I'm certain it could work; my knowledge of swimming and such is kept in an ornamental koi pond, so as long as you memorize everything about the place, I'm sure it's possible."

Relena flushed at his approving look. "Let's hear it for innovative thinking."

Wufei chuckled. "Nothing less than what I'd expect from you."

Relena blushed deeper and then cleared her throat suddenly, sitting up straight and turning back to her meal. Wufei decided a kick was too much and so prodded himself for making her uncomfortable. He took to his own meal, glancing up in time to see Duo making a questioning face and gesture at Relena. He didn't see her response, but filed it all away neatly. The day was getting . . . interesting.

Claws dug into his jeans and he jumped, scooting his chair back a bit as Nimitz wormed up into his lap and placed his front paws on the table, leaning forward to sniff at Wufei's spaghetti.

"Nimitz!" The ferret pulled back at Relena's sharp tone, and she sighed. "Look, Stinker, you don't get human food. You know that."

Nimitz endeavored to look as pathetic as possible, rubbing up against Wufei's chest and butting him in the chin with the top of his fuzzy head, making pitiful noises.

"Don't give in," Relena told him. "No matter what sort of tricks he tries. He knows the rules. His food is in the kitchen."

"In the cupboard?" Wufei asked as he gently removed a sulking Nimitz from his lap and set him on the floor.

"Sometimes. That's his nest. He's got a dish by the window." She sighed and bit her lower lip gently, frowning into her food. "I can't stay up late, guys," she said. Somehow, 'guys' didn't sound quite right coming from her upper-class accent. "I've got an extra-early day tomorrow."

"What time should I come over?" Heero asked.

"Two."

Duo cringed. "Dear God, Relena, two in the morning? We don't get up that early!"

"Well, I've got things to do tomorrow. The Foreign Minister is ill, so I have to take his meetings as well as mine. It's called responsibility, Duo."

Duo just made a face at her and Wufei raised a mental eyebrow at her sudden irritability. Relena was certainly multi-faceted.

She shook herself and stood up. "Well, then, shall we get started? I'm sure we can get the living room done today." It was an almost forced cheerfulness and Wufei frowned, a bit perturbed, but he got up with the rest of them and started gathering dishes.

"I can do that," Relena insisted, laying a hand on his arm.

Wufei tilted his head slightly toward her as he reached for a glass and offered her a smile. "I don't mind; two people are faster than one."

There was a moment of perfect stillness in the room as Relena looked at him flatly, her considerable mind working behind her cornflower-blue eyes, then she took a deep breath and nodded as she let it out slowly, smiling a bit.

"All right," she murmured. "All right. Thank you."

The other men shook off their sudden tenseness and Wufei continued to gather plates and take them into the kitchen, his brain working over-time. He and Relena were silent as they rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, and when they re-emerged into the living room ten minutes later he still had no idea what was triggering his companions' odd behaviour. They followed Duo's direction and by eight had gotten most of the room done.

"Out, out, out!" Relena shoved playfully at Duo. "I'm sure you'll all be back next Sunday, so go. Two, remember? That means I get up at one."

"Good Lord, go to bed," Duo grumbled.

Relena laughed and threw her arms around his neck to give him a kiss on the cheek, then did the same to Heero and Trowa. She turned to Wufei and flushed a little, just across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks, and shifted her weight to one side.

"Ah, will you be coming with them next week?" she asked.

Wufei shifted a little, himself, and nodded. "If there's no objection."

"Good. It's a holiday next Monday, so we can all stay up late. I'll rent movies. Does that sound good?" The last was said to all of them, and since the other three agreed and Wufei had no social life to speak of, he didn't see anything wrong with it. "Good. I'll see you all then. Goodnight!"

They said their goodbyes and Wufei followed Duo out to his truck, Heero lagging behind to talk with Relena.

"So . . . not what you'd expected?" Duo asked casually.

Wufei raised an eyebrow as he buckled up, then shrugged with a slight smile. "I'm not sure what I'd expected. It was a pleasant experience."

"Yeah, you two seemed to hit it off real well."

"Why don't you just say whatever you're trying to get at?"

Duo pursed his lips and stared at the road. Finally, "Any interest on your part?"

Wufei had been expecting it. Duo was painfully obvious at some things. "Would it clash with an interest on yours? Or anyone else's?"

He got a glower. "That's not what I asked."

"But it's relevant. I don't chase women my friends are interested in."

Duo snorted. "Somehow, you and the phrase 'chasing women' just don't fit." He shrugged. "No, no one else is interested. Are you?"

Wufei stared at Duo, fighting a surge if irritation. "I wouldn't mind getting to know Relena better. She's a very interesting person."

Duo just grunted and concentrated on the road, and Wufei couldn't get a word out of him the entire trip back to his apartment.

***

Heero watched Duo, Trowa, and Wufei walk down the stairs, then turned to Relena and hugged her tightly. She returned it, smiling when he tilted her chin up to frown down at her.

"What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

He frowned harder. "Wufei." Relena raised both eyebrows. "You got on rather well with him."

"I get on rather well with anybody I choose to," she replied, then sighed at the look on his face. "He's nice, all right? And he's got a memory palace, and he's good to talk to, and he listens. He's not what I'd expected him to be like."

"Do you like him?"

"Good God, Heero, I've only just met him!" She softened her words with a smile and kissed his lips quickly. "I wouldn't mind getting to know him better, but you know I don't need romance right now. Especially right now. Hmm?"

Heero stayed still a moment or two longer, then nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay." She leaned against her doorway as he caught up with Trowa, who had lingered behind. "I love you, Heero," she called softly.

He paused and turned back to her, then smiled. "I love you, too, Relena."

***

And, there you have it. So far. I'll be adding more, little by little.
Anyway, if you want to know more about memory palaces, read "Hannibal" or just Google it. This also gives a very basic overview of them: http://mappa.mundi.net/cartography/Palace/

(Batfic) Sing, chapter 30

2009-02-18T17:21:35Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

He slid between the gathered Marines easily and stopped by the Colonel. “Why so glum?”

The man jerked a bit and frowned more as he turned back to look at the Weston building. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch, but Rivard says you’re trustworthy. Wonder Woman’s getting your family from the roof?” He turned and barked an order at three Marines, who saluted sharply and started unloading battering rams and what looked like smoke grenades.

The Joker nodded while another transport truck dropped off more Marines. The building was surrounded, and there hadn’t been any gunfire yet. “My men are letting me in to get them in two minutes. Move in two minutes after that. Terminate with extreme prejudice.” He raised his phone and dialled a pre-programmed number. “Move in,” was all he said, then twisted at the waist to look up and behind him when the roar of a jet passed overhead. The sky was empty.

~

Rachel had fallen asleep after the Joker had left her. Or maybe she’d dreamt the whole thing. Maybe it didn’t matter. She felt the jab of a needle in her arm and was ready to welcome oblivion, but for the small issue of waking up fully for the first time in days. Sanchez was beside her and there was a clown in the doorway, facing away from her as the doctor sat her up and offered her new clothes to put on. She could see Janet and Susie in the main room.

“Please, Mrs. Dawes, put these on.”

She looked at the clothing, then at Sanchez and frowned. “What’s happening?”

The man looked out the window briefly. There was smoke on the horizon. “We’re leaving. Your husband will be here soon.”

“What?” She struggled to change her top, ignoring Sanchez even as he turned his face away. “Jack, or the Joker?”

The man shrugged. “Both. Either. Does it matter? Something’s been happening all over town for almost an hour. Can you get up?” He had to help her, but soon enough Rachel was on her feet and in the main room, where Janet was finishing loading a pistol. The clown at the door, and the four scattered across the room, were all female.

Janet looked up and handed Susie a quiver of arrows. “I’m going with Jack.”

“What are you talking about?” Rachel asked. She had to sit down, panting as her stomach tightened. “How’s he getting back up here?”

“Walking in the front door,” Raoul said from the main doorway. Rachel jumped and he held both hands out, empty. “We have,” and he checked his watch, “ten minutes and thirty seconds to get you to the service elevator at the other end of the building. Are you ready to go?” There were two men behind him in the hallway.

“Janet, shoot him.”

“Not a good idea,” the man said shortly. “I need you to trust me, Rachel.”

“Why should I?” she demanded as she pulled her hair back. “You’ve been working for the mob the entire time I’ve known you!”

“Longer, actually. About three years longer than I’ve been working for Gordon.” The man looked at his watch and brushed his bangs back with a scowl. “Look, Maroni helped my family out when I was thirteen. I worked for him, paying off our debt, for three years --- well, it was Gallucci after Maroni died. But after three years I’d had enough and went to Jim. Jim had me stay and feed him information, and when I was a senior in high school, Gallucci wanted me to think about joining the police force. Jim thought it was a great idea.” He was shifting from foot to foot, irritated at the time being wasted. Finally Raoul sighed and sat in a chair, his head in his hands. “Look, I didn’t . . . I’m sorry, Rachel. Janet, Susie, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything to make it better, I know, but . . . Gallucci didn’t tell me about anything he was planning for you all. I knew he was up to something, but I didn’t know when he was going to try to take you all. I tried to find out. He . . . doesn’t trust me as much as he used to. And I don‘t expect you to ever trust me again,” Raoul went on as he stood, “but for now I need you to. The Justice League will be here in eight minutes to get you. All of you.”

“I’m going with Jack,” Janet repeated firmly. She was glaring at Raoul, who was glaring back as he gestured out the door. “You’re not stopping me. He’ll need help.”

“I’ll be with him.” He gave her a wide berth as she stalked out of the room with Susie on her heels, then beckoned to the men outside. They came in and stood on either side of Rachel, lifting her gently. “You, too, Doctor.”

Rachel couldn’t have put up a fight if she’d tried. She just glared at the back of Raoul’s head as he walked them quickly down the hallway. The clowns the Joker had left behind spilled out of the room, taking up rear guard positions with two of them up front with Raoul.

“Does Hideki know?”

Raoul turned his head slightly. “No. This way.” He ducked around a corner and into an open doorway. “Are you ready?”

“You’re late.”

“Rachel’s stubborn. Janet’s not much better.”

The Joker was standing in front of a row of men, all tied to chairs and gagged, when Rachel was brought into the room. He turned to her with a grin. His outfit was clean, for once, and his face was almost devoid of paint, what was left only smeared streaks as he sweated.

“Glad you could join us. Come in, come in! We have just enough time. Look who came to visit, Gallucci,” he said in a sing-song voice. He grabbed one of the men by the hair and forced his head up. “This is my family, remember? You promised me you wouldn’t let them get hurt, and look at them now.”

“I gave orders to leave them alone,” the man gasped.

The Joker shot him between the eyes. “Yeah, I don’t have time to monologue right now. Janet, come here. Do you recognise these men?” The girl was shaking as she nodded. He took her hands and tightened her grip on her pistol as he brushed hair out of her face. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I can’t take back what I let them do to you,” he whispered. “I’ll never forgive myself for not keeping a closer watch on you. I’m sorry, Janet. Bu-ut,” he snarled as he turned back to the terrified men, “I’ve always felt that killing the people who hurt you is wonderfully therapeutic. Don’t you agree?” This was said to the men, who looked at the shaking and terrified Janet and relaxed a little. The Joker’s voice softened. “They hurt you, Janet. You can make sure they never hurt anyone else again.”

“Janet, no,” Rachel pleaded softly. Everyone looked at her. “You don’t have to kill them, Janet. Joker, don’t make her do this! She’s not a kill---”

An arrow whizzed by and struck one of the men in the chest. He jerked, gurgling, as the rest of the men started yelling against the ropes in their mouths.

“You’re bad people,” Susie said as the small group turned to her in shock. She had another arrow knocked and let it fly, striking another man square in the chest. “You hurt my sister. You hurt Miss Rachel. You hurt Ava. You hurt me.” She was crying, now, as the Joker smiled. “You took my Daddy away from me! I hate you all!”

“Go outside, Susie,” Janet said sharply. She knelt by her sister and hugged her tightly. “Go with Rachel. I’ll be fine, Susie, I promise. I need to help Jack, all right? You help Rachel.”

“I want Daddy back,” the child demanded as she glared at the Joker.

He’d just slit a man’s throat and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “And you can have him back, sugar, just as soon as I’m done here. Now get out.” He went back to work, methodically slitting throats, and looked to the side after a moment. “I meant all of you. You’re not a killer, Janet.” She pressed her gun to the last man’s temple and fired as she looked at the Joker. He jumped; he hadn’t been expecting her to actually kill a man.

“I feel better,” was all she said. Then she leaned to the side and threw up. “Where are we going now?” she asked as the Joker moved her hair out of her way.

“What’s this ‘we’ business?” he asked lightly. He was grinning when she looked up at him. He offered her some gum. “We need to find Anita and Maury. They haven’t left the building; I’ve got all the exits covered, and then some, but there are a lot of places to hide.”

“Where do we start?” Janet asked quietly. She was following close behind him, still trembling, but for the most part steady.

They’d come upon several bodies that were still breathing, and the Joker frowned. “Follow the trail,” he murmured. And follow it they did, Raoul finding them a few minutes later and confirming that Rachel and Susie were on their way to Metropolis General.

“What the hell is this?” the young man asked as he toed at an unconscious gangster.

“Beats me,” the Joker murmured back. The faint sounds of a fight drifted to them and as they rounded a corner, Raoul grabbed Janet and pulled her to the side when a body went flying past. It hit the wall and crumpled with a moan, and the trio stared at the man in black who was delivering a roundhouse kick to another thug’s jaw. The kick lifted him up in a sideways spin, during which he managed to land two more kicks on two more men before hitting the ground in a crouch and popping back up. He surveyed the bodies littered around him with satisfaction before turning to his dumb-founded audience.

“What?” Hideki asked innocently. He followed their gazes to the floor and shrugged. “What? I’m Asian. All Asians know martial arts.” Then he jogged up to Raoul and punched him in the jaw. “You could have told me you were working both sides,” he growled as he lifted Raoul up by the collar and shook him. “I was so fucking worried about you!”

“I’m sorry!” his husband gasped out.

“Fight later; where are Anita and Maury?”

Hideki lowered Raoul and glared at the Joker. “Safe. Somebody needs to go on trial for this, Jack. Trust me, with all the dirt you gave the DA’s office, they’ll be in jail for the rest of their lives. By the way, all your packages were delivered. They’ve renamed you the Jokester.”

“Great, I’m a fucking superhero, now.” The man in purple growled and kicked at the floor, then took a deep breath and looked to the right. The sounds of approaching Marines were now clearly audible. “Hideki, get out of here. Raoul, shoot me.”

“What?!”

“I’ll do it!” Before the Joker could turn, Janet had shot him in the side and he went down with a startled yell.

“Damn it!” he cursed at her. “You bitch!”

“I feel lots better,” was all she said, smug as Hideki took off running. “Why’d I shoot you?”

“Because you’re a bitch,” the man gasped. “They’ll need to take me to the hospital.”

“I’ll make sure it’s Met Gen,” Raoul promised. He took Janet’s gun from her and wiped it clean, then wrapped it in the hands of the nearest unconscious man. “Man down!” he called out, moments before the first Marine rounded the corner. “Sergeant Raoul Gillespie, Gotham PD!”

“Kneel down and put your hands on your heads!” the lead Marine barked. Raoul complied and tugged at Janet, who was frozen to the spot. “Now!”

“Janet, get down,” he hissed at her.

“She’s one of the civilians,” Batgirl interrupted as she broke through the group of Marines. She took Janet by the arm and peered up at her intently. “Janet?”

“Charles?” the girl asked in confusion.

That got a smile. “Yeah, it’s me. Keep it to yourself. Where are Rachel and Susie? Did Wonder Woman get them?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Raoul confirmed as he was relieved of all his weapons.

“Who shot the Jokester?”

“Uhm . . . I did . . .” That brought a howl of laughter as Batman rounded a corner with Anita in one hand and Maury in the other.

“What’s so funny?” he snarled.

“Janet shot the Jokester,” Batgirl chortled.

She got an impressed look. “Well, thank God somebody finally shot the bastard.”

“I hate you all,” the bastard moaned. A medic knelt by him and started calling out orders. “Oh, fuck . . .”

“Met Gen’s the safest hospital right now,” Batman went on, ignoring his friend’s pain. “The other civilians are on their way there. Come on.” The group split up, Batgirl staying with the bulk of her Marines while two medics picked up the Jokester and followed Batman, Raoul, and Janet. “They’ve cleared the rest of the building.” He didn’t seem to notice his captives, or the way they were dragging along the floor. “We’re going out the front, hands up, nice and slow. Jokester’s managed to not only hand over almost all the mob’s information to the police, but to give away almost all of their money. Public support’s on his side. Doctor Morgenson’s outside with Gordon.”

“Oh, fuck no,” the Jokester gasped out. “Not Doc. He’ll kill me. No, he won’t. He’ll look at me. He’ll just . . . look at me.”

“I’m counting on it,” Batman said, finally cracking a smile.

“Fucking hate you all . . . How’s Rachel? Is Ava all right?”

“We won’t know until they get to Metropolis.” Bruce looked down at the man and reached out to touch his shoulder. “We’ll get you there as soon as we can.”

“Want my family,” the Jokester mumbled, eyes rolling back in his head. “Bitch shot me . . .”

“You wanted me to.”

“Wanted him to.” One hand tried to gesture at Raoul as the elevator they’d piled into came to a stop. The Marines were talking to their commanding officer, letting him and the police know the group was coming out. “Feel better, bunny?”

Janet wiped at her eyes and took his hand, squeezing it. “You’re an asshole.”

“Take that as a yes, then.” The Jokester smiled painfully up at her. “I’m so sorry . . .”

“Shut up before I shoot you again.”

“Do it,” Batman urged.

“You got two women after you and you’re still mad I got Rachel. Selfish pussy.”

“Shut up,” Raoul told the two men as the group was hustled out the broken front doors. Police rifles came up, then lowered after a moment, and then Gordon and Morgenson pushed through the barricade. Raoul saluted Gordon. “Commissioner Gordon, sir.”

Gordon saluted him back with a smile. “Sergeant Gillespie. Good work. Who shot him?”

“Janet did, sir.”

Gordon laughed. “Finally. We’ve all wanted to shoot him for years.”

“Fuck you!” the Jokester cried out shrilly. “See if I help ever again! Ow, damn it! That fucking hurts!”

“Walk it off, Marine,” Colonel Rogers told him cheerfully. “Drink some water; you’ll be fine.”

“Not a goddamn Marine,” was the Jokester’s petulant reply as he was loaded into a waiting helicopter.

“With the kind of tactical ability you have, you ought to have been. You need medical attention, miss?” he asked Janet. Batgirl nodded and ushered her in after the Jokester, climbing in after her. “Get them to Met Gen,” Rogers ordered the pilot. He got and returned a salute.

“I’d like to go, too, if I may. Jack is a patient of mine.”

The Colonel looked like he was about to protest until the Jokester started moaning protests and Batman grinned. Then he relented, waving Morgenson inside. “Report back once you get there.”

“Sir,” Charles replied.

“Now, let’s clean this mess up. Who the hell are they?”

The helicopter taking off muffled the rest of the conversation and the Jokester scowled when he smelled Morgenson’s cologne, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“I think you have a lot to tell me.”

“Want my family.”

Jim Morgenson looked down at the man he’d come to see as a sort of son and let his breath out slowly. “And if you play your cards right, you can see them again. I need you to tell me what happened, why you brought the Joker back.”

“Don’t call us that,” he was begged. “Keep Janet safe. They ---”

He’d stopped himself, but the look on Janet’s face was enough and Morgenson nodded. “Janet, I’m Jim Morgenson,” he said evenly.

“You’re Jack’s doctor.” He nodded. Janet looked down at the Jokester. “Jack told me once that . . . he wishes you were his father.” She got a groan of protest from the wounded man, but he didn’t deny her words.

“I’m honoured,” the older man said simply.

~

After the initial rush when she’d been admitted, the hospital room that Rachel and Susie had been placed in was eerily quiet. The little girl had almost been lost in the shuffle, except for one nurse recognizing her and keeping her with Rachel. There was a soft tap at the door.

“Rachel? Are you awake?”

“Come in,” she called out weakly. The plane ride had been terrifying, not least because it had been invisible. Diana, who had insisted on being called by her given name, had assured Rachel that the plane was not only perfectly safe, but perfectly sentient and capable of changing shape into anything it wanted; they were in no danger of crashing or falling out.

Not the most comforting choice of words.

“I’ve brought you two some soup. Do you think you can keep it down?” Noelle asked as she came into the room.

“I’m hungry,” Susie said from under the bed. She wasn’t there out of fear, but to surprise anyone coming into the room who shouldn’t be there. She didn’t seem to care that her bow and arrows had been taken away from her; her teeth worked just fine.

“Of course you are, dear. Come on out and have a bite.” The older woman busied herself making sure Rachel was comfortable as Susie inched into view, struggling a little. “That doctor you had with you took good care of you, Rachel. You won’t . . . Ava will be premature,” and Noelle covered Rachel’s hand when the younger woman closed her eyes, tears falling out of them, “but the doctors are sure she’ll survive. You’re not going to lose her, Rachel.”

Rachel shook her head. “But, Jack ---”

“Was brought in an hour ago, along with Janet. They’re stitching him up now and Janet was being examined, the last I heard. I came up as soon as I could to tell you.” She kissed Rachel’s forehead and smiled at Susie. “They’re both all right. Alive.”

“Why did he need stitches?”

“Janet shot him in the side, apparently.”

Rachel sighed and let Noelle feed her. “Probably did it to get sent here,” she muttered between mouthfuls.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I called him Brandon. I’m sorry, Noelle.”

That made Jack’s mother laugh. “Dearest, I’m resigned to knowing Jack doesn’t want anything to do with me. I don’t blame him. I spent years trying to convince myself that I’d saved him, when I should have gone to the police and gotten him back.” She wiped at Rachel’s mouth a bit before sitting back and letting Susie crawl into her lap. “I’m sure he’ll be screaming for you as soon as he’s out of surgery. I’ll see if I can arrange a visit. But you need to rest, now. You’re safe.”

“I helped,” Susie said, not wanting to be left out.

Noelle kissed her forehead. “Of course you did, Susie; you were very brave. I convinced Superman to keep an eye on you; he won’t spy, but he’ll be around.”

“Before or after he files a harassment lawsuit against you for grabbing his rear?” Rachel wanted to know.

That brought laughter that had clearly been passed on to Jack. “Oh, I went for the front, this time.”

“Ew,” Susie gasped.

The older women laughed before Noelle got up to finish her rounds.

Dear beta-seekers;

2009-02-08T12:06:10Z

Please take 10-15 minutes out of your day to read this post:

Soliciting Betas

Read all the replies. Mem it. Bookmark it. Refer to it often.

Thank you.

P.S. And for the love of all that's holy, if you're thinking of asking me to beta for you, tell me how you know of me. I'm freakishly paranoid about people I don't know talking to me; a simple "I've read your stuff on ff.net/random-lj-comm/etc. and enjoy it a lot" will have me replying much quicker and with less trepidation than if you message/e-mail me out of the blue. This is my own personal quirk; I'm bat-shit crazy, y'know.

(Batfic) The Old Familiar Stain

2009-02-05T05:06:01Z

Title: The Old Familiar Stain
Author: larissafae
Rating: PG-13 (non-descriptive descriptions of sex)
Characters: Joker, Ramirez
Summary: A Glasgow child in a well-placed dream.
Archive: Fanfiction.net
Notes: The continuation of Anna Grin, Freezing Fire, Silent Thunder, and Your Desolation. Some disclaimers/explanations about the chapter titles: Except for Anna Grin, they're all song lyrics. Anna Grin is another term for Chelsea Grin or Glasgow Smile (or any combination of the Anna/Glasgow/Chelsea and grin/smile). Ramirez' first name is Anna. It fit. Freezing Fire, Silent Thunder, and Your Desolation are from Take the Kiss, by Inkubus Sukkubus. The Old Familiar Stain is from Hurt, originally done by Trent Reznor and covered by Johnny Cash; Cash's version was the one I was listening to while I wrote this.

She gave in without a fuss. She gave him what he wanted from her. He panted above her and his lady let him touch her, let his hands and mouth go where they would. She reacted to his touch and shook her head when he buried his against her neck, sobbing even while she clutched at his back and refused to let him go. He hadn’t given her a name to cry out so she just cried, cried when her touched her, cried when he kissed her, cried when he entered her and cried when he finally lay still above her.

He hadn’t meant to be so frantic, so grasping and needy for her body. She was worried about a pregnancy and he raised himself up on his hands, lowering his head to look at her abdomen, glistening with mingled sweat, shifting when she slid her legs from his waist back to her rumpled bed that smelled of cinnamon. He settled back over her and pressed his mouth to her skin. He licked the salty wetness from it slowly, brought her arms back around his shoulders when he was overcome with the need to be held by her.

Perhaps she knew of his need to touch, because she held him tightly and ran her hands through his hair and over his skin, wonderfully warm against him, wonderfully alive, wonderfully there as his grip once more dented her skin and pulled her to him. His lady came to him of her own accord, pulling him down next to her and wrapping one leg around his, bringing their bodies together once more but on a more equal setting than their first frenzied coupling.

This time he watched his lady as they moved together. He watched her dark eyes and the shame and need and desire in them, gauged her reactions to how he touched her, moved against her. She wanted to forget, and he wanted her to forget; forget who they were and what they were, know only that they needed each other and ignore what might come after.

It was her name he bit out before wrapping his arms tightly about her waist and shoulders, their foreheads pressed together as he listened to her whimper with pleasure. It was a far cry from the first time he’d held a woman; there was more pleasure, less tears, less pain. He rolled slightly to his back and brought his lady with him, sat up and listened as she cried out. It was exquisite. She wanted him, wanted the man in her bed. Her kisses and pets came willingly where they had been unwilling before and she looked at him and saw past the scars and saw just a man, a man who needed the woman in his arms.

Later, he lay on his back and she lay curled up next to him, both of them awake but neither of them moving, talking. He wasn’t going to stay and she knew it. No matter what romantic fantasies either had enacted, his lady was but a dalliance from his life’s work and he wasn’t going to stay. Her fingers curled in against his chest and he stroked her shoulder out of reflex. He wasn’t going to stay, but he would stay until she fell asleep.

He told her to get some sleep as he stared up at her ceiling and the flickering lights from the city that played there. Her lips moved against the muscle of his shoulder in what might have been an acknowledgement or what might have been a kiss. He would take it both ways.

She was precious, he told her softly as her breathing started to even out. She only needed a little push to embrace the true meaning of virginity, that of a woman who was whole unto herself and not needing others to command her. She would be his virgin lady, he whispered into her dark hair, she would be his virgin lady and he? He would be her court jester, holding up her smile with pride as she held court over all who had once held her back.

It was what he was good at.

(Batfic) Sing, chapter 29

2009-02-04T02:51:14Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

“Security doesn’t seem tighter than usual,” Charles was saying as she studied the floor plans to the Weston building. She idly brushed her fingers across the scratch Catwoman had given her on the way to the Batcave, narrowing her eyes when said woman purred a little. “If they’re still following the same routine.” None of them looked up when the lift started.

“If they’re on the top floor, it’ll be easy to get them to the plane,” Diana said.

“It’s not, they are, and we’ve had a slight change of plans,” the Joker drawled as he sauntered up to them. The small group of superheroes, and one villain, turned sharply and their hands went to their respective weapons. The man held his hands up with a mock-innocent look and wiggled his fingers. “Hey, now, let’s take this easy. Don’t want to, uh, heh, hurt Jackie now, do you?” The glint in his eyes as he grinned at them was self-assured and relaxed. “Batina, I’m gonna need your . . . special contacts for this. Here’s what I need, down to the minute. Get them here as soon as you can.” He tossed her a small package that she caught out of reflex, eyeing warily. “It’s not gonna explode, doll.”

“How’d you get in here?” Catwoman growled at him.

He snorted. “I’m just that good. I need to make a phone call . . .” He wandered over to the surveillance area as he dug a cell phone out of his pocket and dialled a number, his eyes fixed on the GCN news broadcast. The anchor was covering his latest bombing, barely a half hour old, and taking calls on it. Public opinion was firmly against the Joker. The phone rang twice before it patched through. Fox was, the Joker mused, a genius.

“Caller, you’re on the line.”

“Because Gotham listens when I have something to say,” the Joker drawled while Charles pursed her lips at his requests and swung toward a computer. “And believe me, I have something to say.”

On the television, the anchor had gone pale. “Who --- Joker ---”

“See, now, I don’t like that name much,” the man interrupted. “And I thought, since it’s been so long, this city might want to know why I’m back, what I want this time. How are you, Mike? Oh, don’t worry, I’m not planning on hanging you upside-down again.” He chortled to himself. “Glad to see you’re still around.”

“Ah . . . And . . . what do you want?” the anchor asked after a moment of silence.

There was a long, drawn-out hiss of breath. “What’s been taken from me,” the man in paint growled. “See, Marco Gallucci, head of most of the crime in Gotham, thinks that he can take what’s mine, keep it from me, abuse it, and --- and this is the important part --- get away with it. Now, I was all set to play along with him, take out other crime families for him, cause trouble for your Justice Club, but then Gallucci made a very. Big. Mistake. Do you know what that mistake was?”

“. . . No. What was it?” the man asked.

The Joker turned with a snarl, pacing. “He hurt things that belong to me. And in doing so, he’s broken his word --- and I can’t stand liars and oath-breakers. Fortunately, since he’s broken his promise, I’m free from my promise.” There was ugly laughter. “If Marco Gallucci doesn’t give me what’s mine within twenty-four hours, I’m going to stop being careful with Gotham’s sweet citizens. They may start dying.”

For all his obvious fear, Mike Engel, GCN’s main news anchor for almost twenty years, was holding up remarkably well. Especially considering he’d come face-to-face with the Joker on the man’s first rampage through Gotham. “What did he take, if I may ask?”

“My family,” the Joker whispered. He laughed at the look on Engel’s face. “I want Rachel and Ava Dawes, and Janet and Susie Mills, released into the care of a hospital which I’ve already specified to Gallucci. Why so shocked? Why did you think I came back? See, these days I don’t care so much about killing people; I’m not against it, but I’ve found other things to . . . better occupy my time.”

“But . . . Over eighty ---”

The Joker waved his hand. “Criminals. Murderers.” His voice dropped to a gut-twisting growl. “Rapists. People who deserve to die. It doesn’t matter. We’d found a life we all wanted, we all were happy with --- you know Rachel’s pregnant, right? I’m going to be a father.” His voice warmed. “Ava Mirelle Dawes . . . It means ‘desired miracle,’ you know. I named her.” He was proud, and it showed through his voice, and Engel sat back in shock. “She’s due January ninth, if Gallucci’s idiocy hasn’t forced Rachel in labour by now.”

For a moment there was nothing but the Joker’s heavy breathing and a faint growl once in a while, and then he cleared his throat.

“So see, I’ve got a lot of good things going for me. We’re going to adopt Janet and Susie, too. I’m more of a jokester these days, you know . . . You should see some of the pranks the high school boys and I get up to.” Now he giggled, full of mirth, but once more went serious. “Gallucci’s overstepped his bounds, and I want my family back. You have . . . twenty-three hours and . . . fifty-six minutes.”

“But --- If Gallucci doesn’t ---”

“Well, now, that’s up to him, isn’t it? If he gives me what’s mine, you’re all safe. I’m a man of my word, as you know.”

“Why not just go to the police?”

The Joker sighed and wandered over to Catwoman, scratching her behind her makeshift ears. She hissed at him. He ignored her. “Look, Mike, since we’ve got a history together, I’ll level with you. I’m tired of doing this. This is a message, to leave me the hell alone. I could live my life quite happily with my girls and Rachel, see, because with them, I don’t need to raise hell. I don’t need to blow shit up and threaten to kill people, engineer mass destruction . . . Although I’m not gonna lie, it is fun to do. But see, Susie --- she’s the youngest, after Ava, of course --- Susie doesn’t care that I used to kill people. It doesn’t scare her like it scares adults. In fact, after I first met her I asked her if she was afraid of me, and she said no, because . . . well, her main reasoning was that I did everything Rachel told me to do, so Rachel must be the boss of me, and Rachel would never let me hurt someone.” He screwed his face up in a bemused smile, and then laughed at the slightly nervous chuckle Engel let out. “Yeah. Kids. She never cared, see. Right from the start she was all over me, wanting piggyback rides and to be tossed in the air . . . She just wanted someone to love her.” His voice got quiet. “So did I. And Rachel loves me. She’s got more reason than anyone else to hate me, but she loves me. She tells me Ava’s going to love me, too --- Hey, I can get her to calm down by singing to her; works like a charm and lets Rachel get some rest at night. I’m not going to let Gallucci screw that up,” the Joker went on after clearing his throat. The moment of personal revelation was over. “He’s wasted fifteen minutes. If I have to go in and get my family,” the Joker growled, “I’m going in for blood.” The line went dead and the man turned to the group of heroes. “What?”

“How much of that was a lie?” Wonder Woman asked after a moment of silence. On the television, Engel was being flooded with calls that were abruptly in support of the Joker.

The man in question pursed his lips and rolled his eyes up as her considered her question. “Uh . . . Five percent. Roughly.”

“And specifically . . . ?”

“The part about Gallucci having twenty-four hours.” He leaned over the table and pursed his lips at the floor plan of the Weston building, taking up an orange marker. “Sentries here, on these floors,” he said as he dotted the paper. “Shift change is routine: on the hour, every four hours. Got a hold of your guys yet? We’ll need a perimeter here, and a blockade right up front, after we’re all in. Hey, Bondage Girl.” The princess ignored his jibe and tilted her head at the plans he was drawing up. “That plane of yours . . . it’ll hold three passengers, right? And they’ll all stay invisible?”

“Depends on the passengers. If you’re thinking Rachel and the girls, they’ll be fine, and won’t be visible until they’re out of the plane. How do you know Gallucci won’t up his security? Once he gets your threat, he’s going to tighten it.”

“Doesn’t have the manpower,” the Joker returned as he shook his head. “Plus, he’s let me get a little too close to some information sources. He’s got a lot going on right now. I know how to keep someone looking the wrong direction,” he said loudly, overriding her protests. “I’ve been working on this for months. The only thing I’m really concerned about is Janet.”

“What about her?” Charles demanded before turning back to her phone. “Not you, Sir. No, Sir. Go on, Sir.”

The look of fury on his face made even Wonder Woman step back. “Some of Gallucci’s thugs drugged and raped her. I’ve got someone watching her twenty-four/seven, now, but . . .” His hands clenched in fists of rage and the man shook as he spluttered incoherently.

Diana lowered her head to give him the illusion of privacy, turning a blind eye to the tears that fell down his face when he finally returned his attention to their plans. “How will you find Gallucci?” she asked softly.

“He’ll be trussed up like a turkey, waiting to be carved. I’ve got people on the inside.” His voice cracked on the last word, but the man who had been Jack cleared his throat and went on. “Chuckie, you done yet?”

“Yes, Sir. Thirteen hundred today. We move in at fifteen hundred. Oo-rah, Sir.” She planted her fists on the table and glared at the Joker. He held his hand out and she handed him a piece of paper. He entered the number into his phone with a nod. “You planned everything,” she accused.

“I always do,” was the absent reply before he sighed. “Not all of this is going according to plan.”

“What happened to Janet isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is!” the Joker bellowed. Diana leaned back a little, but didn’t try to convince him further. He coughed and shook himself. “They won’t know you’re all involved until it’s too late. The Marines ought to keep them occupied for a while. If we’re lucky, we can grab Rachel and the girls and be gone before anyone notices.” He cracked his neck. “I’ve gotta go.”

He left without another word.

~

The Joker looked down at the girl on the bed as his men stood guard and pursed his lips. How to go about this? He needed her down from her heroine high, but able to function while off of it, all without losing it when a man touched her. He chewed on the insides of his scars and finished wiping his face off before adjusting his overcoat.

“Janet?”

She twitched and whined a little, forcing bleary eyes open as one hand flung itself out, track marks in her arm. “Please,” she mouthed.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his, his eyes tightening when she winced at the physical contact. “No, honey, I need you to listen to me. Will you listen to me?” There was a small sound from the doorway and he held his free hand out without looking. “Come here, Susie.”

“Is that you, Daddy?”

“Just for a bit,” he said. “Come here.” The girl wasted no time in flinging herself at him, sobbing into his embrace. Jack took just a moment to calm her down before wiping her tears away, kissing her cheeks. “Shh, shh, sweety . . . Stop crying, now. I need you two to help me.” Janet was twitching again, legs spasming while she bent almost double and groaned. Jack sighed and took out a small kit, talking as he opened it and started setting up what he hated himself for needing to do. “Susie, some people are going to come visit you. They’re going to take all of you out of here, do you understand?”

“You’re rescuing us?” she asked.

Jack smiled as he nodded, finding the right vein and not shaking as he injected more heroin into Janet’s system. “That’s right, I am. I’m leaving a bow and arrows for you, and a gun for Janet. Can you hear me, Janet?” She was smiling now, nodding dreamily. He smoothed her hair out of her face. “Do you want those men to die, Janet?”

“Uh?” She blinked at him, still riding the drug high, and nodded. “Okay? Do you want me to suck your ---”

“No,” he cut her off firmly. “You don’t ever need to do that again, Janet, and I’m going to kill the men who made you do it. Do you understand? They won’t hurt you again.”

The smile she gave him was angelic. “I love you, Jack . . .”

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I love you, too, baby. Get some sleep. I need you to be rested, okay? Look, it’s noon. I’ll be back at three-thirty. Can you two make sure Rachel’s ready?”

“Okay,” Susie promised fervently. Then she looked down, only raising her eyes to look at him. “Do you . . . Do you have to be the Joker again now, Daddy?”

Jack sighed and nodded. “I do, baby. But I promise, he’s going to be a lot nicer to you, all right?”

The girl considered, tugging at her auburn hair, and then she nodded. “Okay. Can I tell Rachel we’re leaving?”

“I’ll let her know, poppet. You just make sure Janet’s awake and ready to go. If you do good today, I’ll get you a kitten. I have to go, now.” He pulled the girl into a fierce hug and rubbed his nose against hers. She was trying not to cry. “I love you, Susie. I love all of you. Don’t you ever forget that, all right?” She nodded, tears falling down her face, and he set her next to her sister with another kiss for each of them before leaving the room and sliding down the wall once the door had closed. Jack clenched his fists in his hair and rocked back and forth. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. Let’s make a deal. We can both have what we really want. Let’s just . . . cooperate.”

After a few minutes he stood, much more composed, and went into Rachel’s room. She was on her side, staring off into space or maybe sleeping with her eyes wide open. She didn’t move when he closed the door, however, and he was crouching next to her before he saw that she was still breathing.

“Rachel?” Her only response was half a blink and it tore him up. “Look, bunny,” the Joker sneered as he got tired of her silence, “things are about to uh, heat up, you know?” He tied his long hair back in a ponytail, having rinsed the green out earlier. “I need you ready to go.”

“Jack,” she whispered.

The man pursed his lips and leaned down, pressing them to hers gently as his hands pressed against her stomach. The resulting movement from his daughter was faint, but there. It was enough for now. “We’re working on that, sweet. Three-thirty. Be ready. We have to go.” He stood and shook his head as he walked out of the room. “Don’t you dare start blubbering, you damned pussy . . . Doc, three-thirty, have them all ready to go.” Sanchez raised his eyebrows and nodded. The Joker left, humming. “We’ve got a lot to do --- is it one lump or two? . . .”

~

At two-thirty, on opposite sides of town, two of Marco Gallucci’s main warehouses imploded. The men guarding the small fortune of drugs were nowhere to be found.

At two-forty-five, Gotham City’s public school and parks systems received anonymous donations totalling over four million dollars, received in boxes wrapped in bright orange, blue, and purple paper. At the same time, south-east and south-west of the main warehouses, two more smaller buildings disintegrated from within. Police response was unnaturally slow.

At three, due south of the two main warehouses, half a mile south of the second explosions and half a mile closer, two more buildings went. There were no civilian casualties. Large teddy bears stuffed with toys were deposited at the steps of the city’s children’s hospitals, while their bank account balances almost quadrupled.

At three-fifteen, half a mile south and half a mile closer, two more building went. In his office, Jim Gordon circled the largest two explosions in black, then took two red pens, held one down on either secondary explosion, and dragged them down and together in a curve. The Weston building was in the centre. As the city’s homeless shelters and various aide programs received donations totalling nearly ten million dollars, the number of phone calls to GCN and local radio stations in support of “the Jokester” grew. The red face grinned at Jim as the Two/Twenty-Fifth Marine Corps Infantry Battalion flooded his city.

He smiled back.

(Batfic) Sing, chapter 28

2009-02-03T08:07:26Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

This is the last uber-angsty chapter; I promise! It gets better after this.

Oh, and I'm sorry it took so long.

“I’m really starting to get pissed!” the Joker screamed. “You’re not as much fun as you used to be, Batsy!” He dodged a batarang (batarang! who came up with these stupid names?! Bats and his damned obsession with bats!) and shot that stupid Robin boy in the kneecap, groaning as Jack flailed around in his mind. “Get a life, already! What do you freaks want with me?!” He hit his detonator and ducked, but wasn’t quite quick enough and went sprawling as Batman flew (like a bat!) into the air, landing heavily a few feet away from the Joker.

“You know why we’re here, Joker,” the man snarled.

“Come the fuck on, Bats,” the Joker panted. “I am not going back with you. Don’t give me that crap about Rachel and Ava needing me,” he whined, “because I don’t care. And pretty soon, Jack won’t be around to care, either! Anyone ever tell you ya suffer from a severe case of OCD?” He grunted as Batgirl stomped on his stomach, then curled on his side and coughed. “Fuck. What’d I ever do to you?”

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Not me!” he sang as she tried to wrestle his arms behind his back. “Not me! No one here by that name!” He reared back and felt her nose crunch, giggling.

“Where’re Rachel and the girls?” Bats demanded.

“Aw, shit, was that all you wanted to know? You don’t love me any more, do you?” The Joker stood up shakily and brought a knife down into his opponent’s arm, laughing. “Gallucci’s got ‘em holed up in the Weston building, top floor. Oh, don’t tell me you don’t wanna play any more!” he called out as Batgirl picked Robin up and started limping off with him. “I’m just getting started!”

He went sprawling as something heavy and solid hit the back of his head and brought stars to his vision, then managed to flop over onto his back, gasping for air as someone in tight leather (or something like it) straddled his hips.

“Bitch hit me with a brick!” he wailed.

“I’ll claw your eyes out in a second if you don’t shut up,” the woman hissed at him.

“Rrrrowl,” the Joker purred at her. “Cat on a hot tin roof! What’s up, pussycat? Thought you were one of the bad guys. Jack lets me kill the bad guys.” He was grinning manically at the woman-cat sitting on him, then picked her up by the waist and tossed her to the side. She crashed into Batman as he was coming over to help and they both tumbled backward. “Oh! Oh, I remember! You three have a little love triangle going on, don’t you?” the Joker called down the incline the two had slid down. “You two and Batgirl! Wow, how’s that working for ya?” He lay on his stomach and propped his chin on his palms, grinning at the two prone figures while he kicked his feet in the snow-filled air.

“Just fine,” Batgirl snarled as she brought another brick down toward his head.

The Joker slithered out of the way and scrambled to his feet, his breath obvious in the winter night air. He howled with laughter. “Nice. Love to chat, but I gotta run; work to do!” He turned away and the grin on his face faded into a snarl. “Old friend to see,” he growled as he dropped onto the fire escape.

Charles slid down to pull Catwoman off of Bruce, tossing her to the side before leaning over the man. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he coughed. “Just bruised. Is she ---”

“Bitch is fine,” Charles grumbled. “The Weston building’s got some tight security. It’ll take at least two weeks to ---”

“I can get us inside in a week,” Catwoman interrupted as she pushed herself up. She hissed at Charles when the woman stood.

“Why are you so keen on helping all of a sudden?”

She got a sneer. “Gallucci’s got some art I’ve had my eye on for a while. I figure you might let me walk off with it if I help get your friends back.”

Charles looked at Bruce as he stood, leaning on her heavily. “A week?”

“I’ve been casing it for a while,” the woman told them. She smoothed her outfit, not that it needed it, and rested one hand on her hip. “I get you in, you get your friends, I get the art, I go free. What do you say?”

Bruce looked down at Charles and she nodded. “Fine,” he said. “What do you need?”

~

“--- and I think I have a concussion,” the Joker was whining to Rachel. He was holding a bag of ice to the back of his head, making a face. “Help me out, here. Have some pity!”

“Give me my husband,” she demanded. She was sitting up in the bed, propped up against pillows with a tray of soup across her lap.

“No can do, toots. Not until I know I can come back without a fight. He’s got some plan to stomp me out for good, but it’s not gonna work.” The Joker turned his head to glare at Sanchez. “Doc, she’s not being very nice to me. I’ve been injured.”

“Hurting people I care about!” Rachel cried softly. “That doesn’t endear you to me!”

“But I could have died,” he told her with a conspiratorial grin. “And if I die, Jack dies, too. So don’t you want to help keep me healthy?” Then he sneezed, huge and undignified, and Rachel’s hand was automatically on his forehead.

“You’re fevered,” she said with pursed lips. “You go out in the middle of a rainstorm, then go prancing around Gotham in the middle of the night, during a snowstorm. Are you a complete idiot?”

The Joker crawled over her lap to stretch out beside her, still grinning. “Aw, you’re worried about me! Good. I’ve got pneumonia and a concussion. I deserve to be pampered.”

“I should think Gallucci can buy you all the women you wanted,” Rachel sniffed. “Besides, you’re not the one who’s in danger of going into premature labour any moment.”

“I don’t want them,” the Joker told her seriously. His voice was lower, now, not normal but close. “Jack doesn’t want them. We want you, to pamper us.”

“And I want you,” Rachel snapped, “to give my husband back and burn in Hell!”

The man pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows as he rolled his eyes, settling back on the bed. Susie had tried to crawl up with him the first time he’d laid down, but he’d easily shoved her over the side. Now she hid whenever he came around.

“Frigid bitch,” he muttered without bite.

Rachel sighed. He wouldn’t leave until she’d given him however much attention he wanted. Truth be told, she wanted him with her. If he was in the suite, he wasn’t out killing and causing havoc, getting in the line of fire. So she rested her hand on his forehead gently and he smiled to himself.

“What do you want?” she asked softly. Maybe her presence would keep Jack alive.

“Me? Not much. Jack’s got this idea that we need a bath, though. He thinks we’re dirty.” The Joker raised one arm to sniff under it, then wiggled his nose. “All right, so we’ve got the au naturel scent going.”

“If I take a bath with you, will you shut up about your head?”

He shrugged. “The one on my shoulders, yeah. Hey, Doc!” Sanchez leaned in with a tired look on his face. “I got a cold; a hot shower’d help, right?”

“Yes,” the man muttered. “I’ll have them bring more soup, too. And medicine.”

“That’s the spirit! Doc’s got great bedside manners, huh?” the Joker asked Rachel, leaning up on his elbows and tilting his head back so her hand fell onto his face, laughing. “But I hope they’re not that good.” He narrowed his eyes at Rachel, then grinned and shook his head. “Naw, you’re not like that, are you? You’re too devoted to Jack to let another man dick you. You’re not like Jack.”

“Jack was trying to keep me safe while you were trying to ruin our lives,” Rachel told him as he helped her to stand. She had to lean against him to get to the bathroom. “It’s your fault. I don’t blame him.”

“Love really does conquer all, doesn’t it?” the Joker asked absently. “Oh, wait, didn’t do Harvey much good, did it? He knew you wanted him to live and be strong and he flipped anyway.”

“That doesn’t hurt me anymore.” Rachel rested her hands on his shoulders as he undressed her; Sanchez had started the shower already. “I’m over that.”

“Yeah, well, a guy can try.” The Joker stripped himself easily, then stepped into the shower and pulled her in after him. He looked down at her as the hot water melted his greasepaint off, and Rachel’s eyes watered as Jack’s face was slowly revealed. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered. His hands were on her hips, firm yet gentle, keeping her upright.

“Brandon . . .”

The Joker’s eyes widened and he pushed away from her, slipping on the shower floor and landing heavily on his rear. Rachel leaned against the wall to avoid falling herself, staring down at him in shock. She hadn’t expected that reaction.

Neither, apparently, had the Joker. He gaped like a fish out of water, spluttering as he scrambled into a crouch. “Where the fuck did you hear that name?!” he demanded.

“A little bird,” Rachel murmured. The heat was making her dizzy. “She told me . . . everything . . .”

“Don’t you pass out,” the Joker ordered as he stood up, turning her around and kneeling slowly, shutting the shower off and turning the tap on before plugging the tub. “I don’t know who told you what, but they lied.”

“You were such a beautiful boy,” Rachel whispered as she rested her head against his shoulder. “He told her he’d kill you if she didn’t leave, Brandon. She never got married again, never had more children. She wanted to save you.”

“Shut up,” the Joker growled. “Shut the fuck up.” He bit her shoulder firmly and spoke around her skin. “Shut up.”

“Get us out of here,” she begged him. She raised her hands to his hair and pulled gently. “Please, I need to be in the hospital. Doctor Sanchez is giving me steroids to help Ava grow and drugs to keep me from going into labour, but they’re not going to work for much longer. I can’t have her here, Jack. Please. Your daughter can’t be born here.”

“Shut up!” he shrieked at her, standing and almost falling out of the bath. He scrambled for his clothes and didn’t bother putting them on as he pushed out into the main room of the suite, where Janet and Susie both yelled in protest. “Stop it! All of you!”

Rachel slipped lower into the water with a disappointed sigh. It had been a stretch, she knew, but she’d hoped something positive would happen if she called him by his real name. She flinched when the door slammed shut and then Janet appeared in the doorway.

“Are you all right, Rachel?”

“I’m fine,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”

The girl stood there looking awkward. “It’s . . . it’s not your fault.” None of them had talked much past comforting Susie in the week they’d been held captive. Rachel didn’t know what to say. Neither, apparently, did Janet.

“I should have let Jack come with us.”

“They would have just gotten all of us at once,” Janet reasoned.

“I’m sorry I got you girls into this.”

Janet pursed her lips and sighed. “. . . I . . .”

She turned after a moment and went back to her sister.

~

“How is he?” Bruce asked as Alfred came out of Dick’s room.

His friend shrugged. “He’ll survive, Master Wayne. And your deal with Catwoman? How’s that coming along?”

“We’re almost ready. Hideki’s back. Won’t tell anyone where he was.”

“I suppose he’s got his reasons. Still, it’ll do Gotham good to have a D.A. that sticks with them when they need him.” The older man looked at his ward. “How are you holding up, Master Wayne?”

Bruce glanced at him. “I shouldn’t have gone along with that stupid plan of Jack’s. I shouldn’t have let him persuade me that it was for the best.”

“You’ll take comfort, then, that the Joker hasn’t actually killed anyone of consequence yet.”

“Anyone of consequence? Alfred, the last building he blew up had fifty men in it!”

That brought a smile to the older man’s lips. “And they were hardened criminals to the last man, Master Bruce. How many innocent people have died in the last two weeks?” He didn’t get an answer and nodded. “Now, Her Majesty is in your sitting room, Master Wayne. Do mind the whips.”

Bruce smiled at the raven-haired woman waiting for him as he walked into the room. “Diana. How are you?”

“I dented my plane earlier,” she said with a smile of her own as she stood.

He kissed her hand. “Really? How can you tell?”

“I just can, Bruce.” She hugged him, laughing when he started. “Come on, Bruce, I can tell when a man needs a hug. How’s Dick?”

“Livid, but alive. The Joker got just above his knee. He’ll walk again.”

“Your friend sounds like he’s trying to stay out of trouble.”

Bruce sat and rubbed his eyes. “I hope it works, at least until we can get to him. Jack’s an idiot, have I mentioned?”

“Many times,” she answered with another smile. “When are we moving in?”

“Tomorrow night, if Catwoman keeps her end of the bargain.” He rubbed his chin. “Thank you. For your help.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” she said airily. “We even help each other out at times. Superman’s still hung up with Livewire, then?”

“Last time I checked. I hate that woman.”

Diana reached out to brush some hair from his face. Her eyes were gentle. “I think you hate everyone who’s getting in your way right now, Bruce.”

“You could be right,” he murmured. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“Only if you need me to. It might look a little suspicious if I stay over, then we all suddenly show up together. The Joker knows your identity.”

“But he hasn’t told anyone,” Bruce sighed as he cracked his neck, “and that gives me some hope. He’s really just . . .” The man flapped his hands as he tried to find the words.

“Making noise?” Alfred asked from the doorway. Bruce turned and nodded. “He’s being very flashy, but he hasn’t caused much actual damage. Oh, yes, he’s murdered people, but they’re men who’ve slipped out of the law’s hands many times before. This isn’t like fourteen years ago. I wouldn’t go reminding the public of that, because the Joker might well decide to be contrary, but I believe Jack has more of a hold over him that he wants to admit.”

The princess clapped the billionaire on the shoulder. “And there’s your hope right there.”

~

“Where is girl?”

“Don’t, you can’t be in here! Gallucci said ---” There was a thud as Rachel jerked awake. Susie was trembling beside her, and on the other side of the bed, Janet was sitting up.

“Shut up or we kill you, doctor. Where is girl? This room? That room?”

There was male laughter, loud and drunken as Sanchez pleaded with them. “If you hurt them, Gallucci will kill you!”

“Signor Gallucci only say to not hurt the Signora. He says nothing about sweet girl with her. Move, spic-man.” A brief struggle as Janet got out of the bed, and then the door was thrown open. Several of Gallucci’s men stood there with bottles of beer in their hands. The leader looked Janet up and down with a leer. “Ah, there is girl. You are lonely, yes? Need men to keep you company.”

“Piss off,” Janet snapped as the men laughed. “Get the hell out of here.”

“Oh, she has spirit. Might need to be broken in a bit, yes?” He’d started walking toward her with an easy gait, sure of himself. Susie had started crying and hiding her head under the pillows, clinging to Rachel’s side. “You come with us, or maybe we are not so nice to you little sister.”

“Gallucci doesn’t want any of us hurt,” Rachel managed to force out. “Ask the Joker; he’ll kill you if you hurt us.”

She could barely focus on what one of the men held up. “Ah, but we do not plan on hurting pretty girl,” the leader said. “We will make her happy, give her special medicine to take away all cares.” The needle glinted in the light from the main room. “You come easy, girl, or you come bruised.” Janet had been edging around the room, but she was trapped and she knew it. The man was getting impatient. “You come with us now! Or do we hurt the bambina?” Susie whimpered and Rachel held her tightly, unable to move as she glared at the men. Sanchez was in the background, a gun to his head and equally helpless. “Well?”

Janet was sobbing and shaking her head. “No . . . please don’t . . .”

“Don’t what? Don’t hurt you sister? You come to me now, girl, and you sister is fine. You don’t come to me now, I take off her toes.”

Rachel had thought she’d felt despair four years ago in the park, watching Jack be overshadowed by the Joker. She’d thought she’d felt despair ten years before that, as she sat tied to the chair in that warehouse, surrounded by oil drums and knowing she was going to die. What she’d felt those times didn’t come close to the aching chasm in her soul right now, watching Janet slowly shuffle toward the waiting group of thugs, toward the drugs they were going to fill her with.

“Don’t take her,” she tried one last time. She cursed the sedatives that wouldn’t let her speak above a whisper. “I’ll go with you.”

The leader threw his head back with a howl of laughter as he grabbed Janet’s arm and yanked her into the group. “Oh, Signora, I am no fool. You are weak, and Signor Gallucci, he says he kill us if we touch you. He says nothing about girl, so, we are here for girl. Lock him in room.”

The men were taunting Sanchez as they threw him into the room and closed the door. The man banged on it for a while, drowning out the sounds of Janet crying in the next room, then groped his way to the bed in the dark. The mattress dented as he sat on it and leaned over Rachel, covering her ears as he begged for forgiveness, as Rachel covered Susie’s ears and sobbed.

~

Rachel didn’t know what time it was when Susie’s sudden shrieks woke her up, but she started in the dark room and then shook the little girl, murmuring reassurances when the shrieks turned to sobs.

“Susie, it was a dream. It was a dream, Susie, I’m right here, it’s okay . . . Shh, sweety, shh . . . just a dream . . .”

The light turned on and Rachel winced, but it helped calm the girl down. Sanchez came into view. “They left, maybe an hour ago. The door is blocked. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dawes, I couldn’t . . . I didn’t . . .”

“Shut up,” Rachel moaned as she held Susie tightly against her. She didn’t want to hear that he’d been as helpless to save Janet as she’d been. For all her worrying about Jack, now she wished he’d been out, had come in to beg for attention and caught the men, killed them all for what they’d done. Susie was still trembling in her arms when the door to the suite opened an hour or so later.

“What the hell . . .? Marco, check that room. Move that table!” The door opened and Raoul stood there, a gun in his hand. He gestured with it. “Into the corner.” Sanchez did as he was told. “Where’s Janet?”

“Your friends raped her,” Rachel snarled at him. He’d been emotionless during all of her previous taunts, but this time his face filled with rage. “Guess Gallucci forgot that none of us were supposed to be hurt, and those bastards came in, drugged her, and raped her. Is this what you signed up for, Raoul? Did you know what sort of man you were working for?”

“I work for a good man,” he said quietly. His voice shook. “Marco, what did they give her?”

“Probably heroine,” another man answered. “Not enough to overdose on. I can’t do anything to help her.”

The gun moved again. “Get to work, doctor.”

“I’m an obstetrician,” Sanchez was saying as he scurried to the door and past Raoul. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

“Marco, find out who it was.” He was still staring at Rachel. “Tell the Joker when you see him.”

He hesitated a bit, then turned and walked out. Rachel hoped he died. She hoped he hurt as much as Janet was hurting, and died a slow death. She struggled to sit up and then puked in her own lap, sobbing with rage and shame. She hurt. She hurt and she couldn’t protect the people she cared about, and Jack wasn’t there anymore because the Joker was in charge, now, and the Joker didn’t care, Jack may have thought he was strong enough to come back but he hadn’t been, had he? They were all going to die in this suite of rooms, die and there was nothing she could do to stop it . . .

A wet, warm rag to her mouth woke Rachel up and she struggled blindly for a moment, gasping for air. The Joker stared down at her as he wiped her face off, his expression blank. He looked like he was wiping a spot off the counter, no emotional investment in his gestures at all.

“They raped Janet,” she coughed.

“I heard,” he replied quietly. He was being gentle, careful, and Rachel quivered in his arms.

“Don’t you care?” she whimpered. She couldn’t even hold her head up straight. “Raoul’s with them. Don’t you care?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, settling her back down and pulling the soiled covers off of her. Susie screamed in fear.

“Shut up, Susie,” he muttered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl continued screaming, trying to crawl under Rachel, until he’d thrown a clean blanket over them. Once she was out of sight, the child started sobbing. Rachel held the shaking bundle close and rubbed Susie’s back as the Joker crouched on the floor and held his fists, one of them clutching a knife, to his head. He was rocking back and forth a bit before loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. His eyes were blank as he started drawing the knife across his exposed flesh in short nicks. Rachel was too weak to do anything but cry silently as she watched him.

After less than a minute he blinked firmly and shook his head, fixing his clothes as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

“I can’t feel Ava moving,” Rachel whispered. A muscle in his cheek twitched. “I haven’t felt her since yesterday.” She was going to lose her baby. The only link she had to Jack. His baby girl that he was so ridiculously proud of, but so determined to pretend he wasn’t concerned about. Their baby.

“Hope you know a good rehab centre,” was all the Joker said as he walked out of the room. Rachel dissolved into tears again.

(Batfic) Sing, chapter 27

2009-01-16T23:07:28Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

“Now, look,” Anita said as she pocketed her phone. “This is what’s going to happen. Hey, hey, pay attention, Rachel. We’re taking a little trip to Gotham City. You’re going to stay in some very nice digs, I’m told, until the Joker shows up. If he doesn’t show up after a reasonable amount of time --- I’d say twenty-four hours from now --- and there’s no sign that he will show up, we start with the least important of you,” and she waved her hand toward Janet and Susie, “and start sending him some encouragement. If he’s good and shows up, and agrees to our terms, then you’ll all be fine.” She glanced at Rachel as the woman shook her head frantically, then peeled the duct tape off. “What?”

“Let us go,” Rachel sobbed. “Please, you don’t want the Joker to come back. He’ll kill you all. He doesn’t care who dies, and he’ll be pissed that you’re trying to manipulate him.”

Anita rolled her eyes. “Look, Rachel, I don’t care, all right? Things are out of control in Gotham. The Justice League needs to be taken down, and right now, the Joker’s the only one who stands a chance.”

“You don’t understand! Oh, God, please!”

The short woman taped Rachel’s mouth shut again and then leaned over to hit Maury in the arm. “Leave them alone, Maury. If you hurt them and the Joker shows up, all bets are off. What?” she asked the girls. “Oh, you’re wondering where your old lady is? I figure, this time of year, with the average rate of decomposition . . . Naw, they won’t find her at the bottom of Folsom Lake for a while yet. Get over it, kids, shit happens in life. If Jack had given in when we wanted him to, Mommy wouldn’t be rotting right now. This is the most difficult job I’ve ever done, I swear . . .”

“I’m still not sure he can bring the Joker back,” Maury whined as he fluffed his curls.

“He’s been losing it for months; he’ll bring him back to save his precious little family. Trust me, I’ve followed Jack very carefully.”

“Hey, you’re the shrink.”

“Yes, I am,” the woman murmured as she settled back into her seat. She turned to watch Rachel with narrowed eyes. “Don’t you dare go into labour on me, Rachel. Don’t. You. Dare.” She got a vicious glare. “I don’t need to be taking care of a squalling brat, and if anything happens to it, my bosses and the Joker won’t be happy. So keep it inside, all right?”

Three and a half hours later they pulled up behind a high-rise office building, and the van doors opened to a group of men who pulled the hostages out. Anita snapped at them to be careful as they were shuffled inside and into a service elevator. Rachel was covered with sweat and Susie had wet herself out of sheer terror.

“Shit . . . Too much work . . .” Anita crossed her arms over her chest as the elevator opened to a sharp-dressed man who towered over her. “Dawes probably needs a doctor, Gallucci. I told you we should have taken her earlier. She goes into labour, it’s on you.”

“Were you careful with her, Bentley?” the Italian asked crossly. “Dio mio, you three look terrible! Come, come, get them inside.” He took Rachel’s arm and led her down a short hallway, almost picking her up. “Ricci, get the doctor. Signora Dawes needs him at once. My apologies for your handling, Signora Dawes,” he said with a smile as he led the group into a suite of rooms. “I had given orders to treat you with the utmost respect. You’re our honoured guest, after all. Here, this will hurt only a bit.” He pulled the duct tape off of her mouth after sitting her on the couch, and sighed when Rachel spit on him.

“You’re a dead man,” she snarled.

“Yes, yes, but I am even more a dead man if your Joker doesn’t take care of that pesky Justice League. I understand your anger and fear, Signora Dawes, but please trust me that if the Joker cooperates, no more harm will come to you and your wards.”

“Why aren’t you getting it?” Rachel wailed. Janet and Susie were placed on either side of her and leaned in close, crying. “You think you can use the Joker like this and get away with it? He doesn’t work like that! How old are you? Do you remember the last time he was on the loose?!”

Gallucci narrowed his eyes at her. “Si, Signora, I remember. I also remember that we almost had free reign of this city once again. I believe that with you here, he will keep the damage to a minimum. All I require is that he rid us of the Justice League. These are desperate times, Signora.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Rachel argued. “Villains attract heroes ---”

“And likewise, Signora, heroes attract villains. Untie them,” Gallucci ordered as one of his men handed him a wet wipe to get rid of Rachel’s spit. “You ladies have free reign of this small apartment,” it was almost as big as her house, “and the doctor will be here shortly. Rest, clean up. We want you well to show the Joker that we have kept our end of the bargain. The doors are locked, the windows double-paned, and there is nothing to use as weapons, so I implore you not to try to escape. You will be well taken care of, Signora.”

Janet threw herself at the man but Rachel caught her, holding her and Susie tightly as Gallucci walked out. One of the men glanced back at them, and Rachel’s eyes widened.

“You son of a bitch!” she shrieked. “You lying son of a bitch!” The door closed on her curses and then she collapsed into sobs, terrified and shaking and not knowing what to do.

“Rachel, what do we do?” Janet asked as she brought her knees up to her chest and sobbed. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I’m sorry.”

“Rachel . . . Daddy and Batman will save us, right?”

The older woman wanted to break down and scream and cry, betrayal on two fronts ripping at her heart, but the two girls needed her. She hadn’t seen who she thought she’d seen. She hadn’t been that stupid the past five years. She couldn’t have been.

“Rachel . . .”

“I’m okay,” she whispered, wiping her face off and looking around. There were three doors, opening to two bedrooms and a bathroom, it looked like, and she forced herself off of the couch as her entire body protested. “Susie, you need a bath. We all do.”

“I’m sorry,” the small girl whimpered. “I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s not your fault.” Rachel led them to the bathroom and sat on the toilet with her head between her knees as best she could. “Janet, get in with Susie.”

“What if they come back?” the girl wanted to know.

“Then . . . Then they come back. We can’t stop them. They want us alive; they’re not going to hurt us unless Jack doesn’t show up.”

“Unless the Joker doesn’t show up,” Janet corrected as she turned the tub on and got Susie undressed. “What if he doesn’t show up?”

Rachel stared at the floor as her tears spotted it. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

~

“Where is he?!” Bruce bellowed.

“I don’t know!” Dick yelled back. “I heard him shrieking and he was gone by the time I got back to the house!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Charles held her phone tightly to her ear. “Yes . . . yes. That’s right. Gone, all of them. Probably to Gotham. Find them, damn it!” She hung up and hauled her last bag into the waiting car. “Helna, you and Mitzi are coming with us. You’ll stay at Wayne Manor.”

“I thought Gotham’s not safe?” Helna asked as she held her daughter close to her.

“Trust me, Wayne Manor’s the safest place you could be right now. Where’s Superman?”

“He has issues of his own in Metropolis,” Bruce snarled. “Livewire’s out again.”

“What are you talking about?!” Helna wailed as Bruce pushed her into the car.

He took her hand and shook it. “Hi, I’m Batman. Nice to meet you. This is Batgirl, this is Robin, and we’re here to bring Jack back, since he’s gotten it into his head that the only way to keep his family safe is by becoming the Joker again. Oh, and Superman was going to help, but he’s indisposed at the moment.”

“Oh, God, Tom’s in Metropolis!”

“And doing just fine, I made sure of it,” Bruce growled. The car took off to the airport. “Charles, did you call the police?”

“Oh, they got their anonymous tip.” She grabbed her phone as it went off. “Gordon. Yeah, he’s gone. No, no trace of him. Yeah. Your contacts know where Gallucci’s main place is yet? They’re probably there. Yeah, I bet Hideki’s mad. Make sure he’s safe --- oh, he’s gone, is he? Perfect. I’ll let him know.” She slammed her fist against the door as she hung up. “Hideki’s up and disappeared, and Gordon doesn’t know where Gallucci’s hideout is.”

“The most gaudy building in Gotham would be my guess.”

“He’s not hiding in Wayne Manor.” Bruce glared at Charles before his lips twisted.

Helna was shaking her head. “You’re all superheroes?” she whimpered. “Rachel’s friends with half the Justice League?”

Bruce looked at her calmly. “She only knows me and Charles. She just met Dick. So . . . yes, we are, and no, she doesn’t. You’ll be safe at Wayne Manor, Helna. I don’t think they’ll come after you, but I’m not leaving that to chance. We’ve let the Loleta police know where you’ll be.” He looked out the window as they sped toward the airport and let Charles explain the situation.

~

There was a polite tap at the door. “Signora? I have brought the doctor. Are you ladies decent?”

Susie was hiding under the bed while Janet tried to coax her out. Rachel sighed and closed her eyes again as the door opened and footsteps got closer.

“How far along is she? Do you have her medical records?”

“She is due early January, and no, we don’t.”

The new man sighed as he knelt next to Rachel. “She shouldn’t have been moved. Mrs. Dawes? How far along are you? Please, I need to know to make sure your baby’s healthy.”

“Thirty weeks today,” she whispered, not opening her eyes. “I’m supposed to be on bed rest.”

“Get that equipment in here,” the doctor ordered. “You, help set it up.”

“Sir.”

Rachel winced at the low baritone and cracked her eyes open to glare up at Raoul, who paid her no attention as he quickly set up the ultrasound equipment while the balding doctor muttered about being completely in the dark about his patient.

“Jack’s going to kill you,” she whispered when he knelt next to her. The traitor may have hesitated briefly, but the doctor was poking at her and Rachel turned her head to watch him.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dawes, I’m Doctor Sanchez.” He was frowning down at her and smoothed her hair out of her face. She flinched away from him. “I’m just here to make sure you and your child are healthy. They’ve threatened my family. I’m sorry.” He went about his check-up, sighing with relief when someone managed to hack into Doctor Howard’s system and pull her medical files. “She needs to be under constant supervision,” Sanchez finally declared. “She shouldn’t have been moved. I’m worried about premature labour.”

He flinched as a gun cocked behind him. “Then you’d best supervise her, hadn’t you?” Gallucci asked. “You will stay here and make sure she doesn’t give birth until it is her time.”

“I don’t have the supplies I need,” the doctor protested. “She needs to be in a hospital.”

“Then make this a hospital. Tell Gillespie what drugs you need, what equipment, and he will get it for you. He has . . . connections. Hart, tell Bentley I want her in my office in half an hour . . .”

His voice trailed off as he left, and Rachel looked at Raoul as Sanchez wrote down what he needed. The young man was staring at the doctor and not meeting her gaze. No wonder Anita and Maury had found them, with Raoul feeding the mob information. What was with her and trusting mob plants? First Ramirez, now Raoul . . .

“Does Hideki know?” she asked him. He kept ignoring her as he took the paper Sanchez handed him and left. Bastard.

“I’m going to give you an injection that will help you to sleep,” Sanchez told her. “You need to stay as calm as possible. Mrs. Dawes? For Ava’s sake.”

“It’s not going to matter,” Rachel murmured as she felt the needle pierce her flesh. She sighed as her body relaxed. “The Joker’s going to kill you all . . .”

~

Three days later, Susie had finally crawled out from under the bed. She spent most of her time curled up against Rachel, who spent her time in a drugged haze. Sanchez was keeping her as sedated as was safe. Despite his pleadings that the sisters stay in the other room, they refused to leave Rachel, terrified of being alone. The worst was the absolute normalcy of the situation. The only indication they had that the Joker had arrived in Gotham were the sudden explosions the city sent up, the smug looks on the faces of Gallucci and his men when the crime lord came to visit.

The door was flung open, and Rachel didn’t bother moving. She didn’t want assurances that things were going fine, that Jack was cooperating. Sanchez yelled and the bedroom door shook like someone had been thrown against it. Rachel opened her eyes.

“Who are you?”

She recognised that low growl and tried to pull herself out of the drugs as Sanchez whimpered. “Please, I’m the doctor! Gallucci told me to stay here to keep an eye on her! Please, I’m trying to help!”

“Where is she?!”

“This room . . . please . . .”

Susie whimpered and Janet pulled her close as she sat up, staring at the door with wide eyes. It was flung open and the silhouette that blocked the doorway was at once comfortingly and terrifyingly familiar.

The Joker glared into the room and stepped over Sanchez’ limp body, a gun in his right hand as he strode to Rachel’s side of the bed and stared down at her. She looked up into his cold brown eyes and saw nothing of her husband.

“D, Daddy?” Susie whimpered.

“Susie, shh,” Janet murmured, whining a little when the Joker turned his attention to her.

Then his gaze was back on Rachel and he dropped his hand to her face. “You are so much trouble, woman,” he murmured. “Do you know what I had to do in order to get back? Let me tell you a story.” He sat on the bed and ran his hand over Rachel’s stomach quizzically, like he didn’t know why it was bulging out so much. Rachel whimpered a little. “I’m not gonna hurt you, beautiful. Just listen. Once upon a time, I was in Arkham. I was miserable, let me tell you. They drugged me, they beat me, they tried to an-a-lyse me . . . it was awful. I was so bored. I wanted to get out and play some more . . . And oh, I’ve been having a great time since I got back.” He grinned at her, a red slash against the white of his face paint. Rachel didn’t know where they’d gotten a suit like his old one. It terrified her. “Then, one day, in walks this pretty little Jewess shrink, determined to fix me and be famous. Harley was so eager to make her name in the world . . . She really was a two-bit shrink, though. But she was my ticket out, see?”

He glanced at the door as Sanchez pulled himself to his feet. “Please . . . Don’t hurt her . . .”

“I’m not going to hurt her, you idiot,” the Joker growled. “I can barely hurt the bad guys at this point. Where was I? Oh, Harley’s sweet little pussy.” He adjusted his overcoat and cleared his throat. “Right. So, I decided it was time to try normal, for once. That stupid super-sanity theory of hers? Complete bullshit. I’m not crazy, Rachel. Psychopathic, yeah, sure, I’ll admit to that, but I am not delusional.” He was murmuring now, his green hair swaying as he rocked just a bit. “What I did was a little . . . sleight of hand. Janet, do you remember what Jack told you about me? Before your little . . . incident . . . in the limo?”

She flinched. “He said that you’re not a split personality.”

“That’s right! Good girl; glad the hormones didn’t wipe your memory. See, bunny, I’m not the split personality.” The Joker leaned down close, his lips barely touching Rachel’s ear as he whispered his next words. “Jack is.”

The woman shook her head in denial, tears squeezing out of her eyes. “No . . .”

“No?” the Joker mimicked, fluttering his eyelids in mock concern. “No! But yes, dearest, oh, yes. It’s easy to do, really. I just had to drag up some old memories, give them a little bit of shape, then close my eyes and . . . sleep . . .” He beamed at her and pat her cheek to get her attention. “Look at me. That’s why Jack couldn’t remember his past. I chose what he remembered, what he didn’t, what would be the best combination of violence and vulnerability to get out of Arkham and into Harley’s bed.” He screwed his face up into a grimace. “Went to sleep a bit too long, though. Before I knew it, he was hitched and settling down, becoming his own personality. I had to get rid of that bitch before she ruined all my plans . . . So, with some careful rearrangement of the balcony furniture, some careful application of wine, some especially wild sex to get Jack to loosen up . . . well, it’s amazing what a well-placed bite will get you.” He laughed to himself, then went serious so quickly that Rachel jumped. “Then you had to show up, didn’t you?”

“Give me Jack,” Rachel whispered.

“No,” the Joker said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was all set to make my big come-back, but Jack had other plans. He liked living his boring little life, he liked you . . . So he latched on to you and wouldn’t let go, no matter how hard I tried! How inconsiderate, right? So rude to his maker.” The Joker sniffed and then stretched out next to Rachel, running one gloved hand up and down her arm as he grinned at her. “He dug so deep into you,” he murmured, “that I couldn’t get out. And he did dig deep, didn’t he? Deep enough that now you’re all knocked up, and he won’t let me hurt you, or hurt other people unless they’re the bad guys,” he whined the words nasally, “and I’m a little stuck. I need him gone, Rachel. You got him back from me once; it’s not going to happen again.” The man lowered his lips to Rachel’s and left them there, just the barest pressure. “He loves you so much . . .”

“Then why not let him stay?” Rachel whispered. “Leave him alone. He doesn’t need to cut himself ---”

“Oh, yeah, Veronica.” The Joker snorted, his eyes crossing as he stared at Rachel. “Guess they taped it, huh? What an idiot. He thought that if he was violent with Veronica, he wouldn’t be violent with you. Didn’t want to hurt you . . . How much did it hurt, watching those videos? Just wondering.”

“You want a place to belong,” Rachel murmured urgently. She was blinking tears out of her eyes. “It’s better to be hated than ignored, isn’t it? You have a place here, with us. Please, let Jack come back. You don’t need to work with the mob ---”

“Who says I’m working with the mob? Oh, sure, right now our goals run parallel, but I’m not their bitch.” He raised his head and looked over at Janet and Susie. “Stop your snivelling,” he growled. Then he was back to Rachel, touching her cheek. “Don’t you care that Jack’s a figment of my imagination, Rachel?”

“He’s not,” she protested. The Joker snorted. “He’s who you used to be; who you wanted to be.”

“Shut up,” she was warned.

Rachel leaned her forehead against his collar bone and placed her hand on his arm. “You wanted a normal life once, didn’t you? Someone to love, a place . . . For Jack to hold on to me as hard as he did, to fight as hard as he did to stay, it had to have been something you wanted once ---”

“Shut up!” the Joker yelled. Rachel whimpered and flinched as he rolled off the bed and stood up, his grip on her arm tightening painfully as he snarled at her. “Don’t think you know about me, Rachel. Don’t think for a moment that you know anything about me.”

His hand had moved to her throat and Rachel bit back a sob. “Raoul’s working for Gallucci,” she whispered.

The man in her husband’s body froze. “What?”

“Raoul’s working for Gallucci. He’s here.”

“That’s . . . interesting.” The Joker pulled Rachel up and took one glove off, placing his bare hand on Rachel’s stomach and pressing in. “How’s Ava?”

“I should be in the hospital,” she told him, hoping that the news would give Jack enough of a purchase.

The Joker squinted and shook his head sharply, like she’d seen Jack do more frequently over the past few months, and snarled. “Shut up!” he hissed. “Just shut up or I’ll kill all of them!” After a moment he opened his eyes wide and placed his palm against his forehead, then shook himself. “Nice try, toots,” he told her with a grin. “I’ve gotta go. Jack gets a little restless when he doesn’t know that you’re all right and she’s just fine, you fucking idiot!” He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them wide again, growling. “They’re all fine! This stupid doctor’s gonna take care of them, so why don’t you just fucking go away once and for </i>all</i>?” He turned and stalked out of the room, aiming a kick at Sanchez before slamming the door shut.

Rachel didn’t see him again for another three days.

(Batfic) Your Desolation

2009-01-15T02:59:50Z

Title: Your Desolation
Author: larissafae
Rating: PG-13, just in case.
Characters: Joker, Ramirez
Summary: A Glasgow child in a well-placed dream.
Archive: Fanfiction.net
Notes: The continuation of Anna Grin, Freezing Fire, and Silent Thunder, in which I attempt (really truly this time) to make this a plausible pairing.

He wasn't as out-of-control as people claimed.

He couldn't be. He'd been stealing from the mob with impunity for months, now had all of Gotham in a panic . . . that took planning, planning so finely tuned and detail-oriented that it made her wonder if he had military experience, wonder if she would live to find that out.

She watched him watch her after he'd licked her tears away, watched him react as any man might do when presented with the opportunity to look at a woman's breasts, saw the flush on his cheeks from their brief struggle, a struggle he'd obviously enjoyed on several levels. He wanted her to take him home, he wanted her to be strong, but how strong was strong, and when did strength become foolishness? If she, now knowing who he really was, denied him again, would it push their interactions from a game to an irritating folly? Or would he admire her strength in still denying him? Did she want to damn herself by taking him home with her, and all that implied, and if she didn't, did she really think that she could hide from him?

He'd pulled her outside while her questions made her head pound and eased into the entrance of an alleyway, pressing her against the wall and nuzzling her neck like he loved to do. He was being more cautious this time, no doubt on guard to make sure she didn't give away his identity, cause a scene, bring the (good) police down on them. She rested her hands on his shoulders while she acquired a hickey on her throat, rested them where she could either pull him closer or push him away. He was taking more liberties than he'd ever taken but then again, she wasn't denying him now, and since she wasn't pushing him away, he would continue on, slowly and firmly, until she did deny him.

If she told him no, she wondered aloud, what would he do?

He paused, having gotten both of her legs around his waist, his face half-buried in her cleavage, and breathed softly against her skin for a moment. His fingers dug into her thighs as he considered her question, he raised his head a little and tilted it to the side as he looked up at her from under his eyebrows. His was serious, but that didn't mean a thing.

Go home, he finally replied, and ask again the next time they met.

And if she kept telling him no?

Then one day soon, he whispered as his nails broke sin, he'd stop asking. And she wouldn't like the results.

He dropped her and she stumbled a little as her ankle tried to twist, but he was there, steady and solid, keeping her upright. She leaned into his strength under the pretense of finding her balance but really, and she didn't care if he knew, really she wanted more than physical support, her body demanding more of his assurance, his self-confidence, his kisses, even more of his scratches and his bites. She, sick of trying to control her uncontrollable life, wanted someone else to do it for a while. And she wondered, looking up at him as he waited for her next move . . .

Why her?

Because she could change. She could change, he told her, she could change and not be like the others, stop living under rules imposed by the weak to keep control of the strong. She could stop blindly following a society that didn't understand her, that told her she couldn't do this, she had to do that, all because of accidents of birth. He saw this, he said, like he saw everything in people. And she had a really nice rack.

She was gifted with an impish grin and he hunched a little away from her, as if half-expecting a slap to the face. When she just stared at him his smile eased into something a little less boyish and a little more knowing, he leaned his head down and ran his fingers through the blood on her thighs under her skirt, shook maybe just a little when she hissed and arched her body into his.

"Take me home," he whispered against her lips.

She dug her license out of her skirt pocket and reached behind her, easing it under his grasping fingers.

He took it, looked at it, smiled and pulled her out of the alleyway to hail a cab.

And . . . I makez plausible, yah?

(Batfic) Freezing Fire

2009-01-08T02:38:02Z

Title: Freezing Fire
Author: larissafae
Rating: PG-13, just in case.
Characters: Joker, Ramirez
Summary: She was his delusion, his make-believe of all make-believes.
Notes: This is a continuation of Anna Grin, but also stands alone.

Another night, another bar, more smoke in her lungs and garish lights in her eyes. She would wonder why Maroni never had her meet his man in a more upscale location, except she knew that to be seen with a mobster would ruin her already shaky career. If she'd been a little more careful, Dent would never have caught her in that racketeering fiasco. But she hadn't, her mother's constant illness and hospital bills driving her to desperation, and so she was stuck crawling around the underbelly of the city she was supposed to protect, chumming it up with the people she should be hauling off to jail.

And now this, this man who practically begged her to take him home - to her home - each time they met, never once giving her any information like her other contacts did, always wanting to dance with her, ply her with alcohol, court her like they were a normal man meeting a normal woman at a normal bar in a normal city. She shivered every time he touched her with his burning hands; he always got too close, didn't have a clue about personal boundaries. He grasped and clung and snuffled her neck like a dog, like he'd never touched a woman before. He kept his face hidden under a scarf but his cold eyes warmed when they looked at her, warmed and chilled her with their eagerness as they drank her in.

He liked dancing and touching, buying her drinks that she hardly even looked at and bringing her flowers that she threw away as soon as he'd walked off. He liked to make her smile and, perversely, loved it when she frowned, claiming it was all right for her to frown because he already had her smile. He'd asked if her middle name was Chelsea (it was Lupe) and had gotten a kick out of that, too, and he was dangerous. The exaggerated bounce in his step did little to hide the violence that lay coiled within his taut body like a spring, bouncing gently up and down with no regard to his mood. He could just as easily get into a scuffle when he was happy as when he was angry, and she'd yet to see him truly angry. A little disappointed, a little put out, possibly somewhat miffed, but if he ever got truly angry she was sure that someone would die for it.

He kept pushing her and she kept resisting, but she never brought it up because in truth she liked his strength, liked that he was able to come and go and not care, not seem to have a worry - she was positive that no one waited at home for him, no one lay in a cold hospital room and depended on him to keep them alive. He had no one and nothing and that, maybe, that was the reason that he kept hanging around, to feel a part of something, a part of her. In the battle of give-and-take, he played both with enough finesse that she was left on the sidelines.

The thugs that had previously hit on the traitor-cop female had learned. They'd learned to leave her alone, as soon as she'd watched him casually drive a knife into the shoulder of an Italian (or had he been Russian? She couldn't remember past the tightness in her stomach and the intensity of his burning cold eyes) who hadn't wanted to take no for an answer. But the comments stopped, the offers of a warm bed (or just a warm body) died as the man screamed and grateful though she was to walk through the scum unmolested, the ease of his violence both frightened and comforted her. It spoke of safety and protection on the one hand and a devastatingly brutal approach to life on the other, an approach that could kill her if things got out of her control - and yes, she still pretended, sometimes, on nights like these in bars like this with men like him, that she was still in control.

"Take me home," he whispered again in her ear, his nightly prayer, and again she shook her head. His grip tightened slightly, sent burning ice through her body, and then he let her go with a twinkle in his eyes. "I've got your smile when you need it, just tell me when . . ."

Then his warmth left her, cold in the night air, feverish in her fear, singing as he walked away.

"Goodnight, sweetheart, we-ell, it's time to go-o-o . . . Goodnight, sweetheart, we-ell, it's time to go-o-o . . . I hate to leave you but I really must say-y-y, goodnight, sweetheart, goodni-ight . . ."

*****

Yaycrack!

(Batfic) Anna Grin

2009-01-06T22:50:47Z

This is just a segment of a fic that's been eating away at my brain. Somebody make it go away. >.<

Title: Anna Grin
Author: larissafae
Rating: PG-13, just in case.
Characters: Joker, Ramirez
Summary: He was her Glasgow baby, her grin when she couldn't.
Dedication: This one's for crazy_carolyn_s.

He'd been making a study of human expressions, broadening his horizons, so to speak. He'd been told he couldn't recognise pain and sorrow as well as other emotions. He saw anger, he saw happy, and he'd been told once that maybe the reason he hurt people was because he couldn't recognise the facials signs that told him to stop.

He'd laughed at that. He saw pain and fear just fine; he was interested in what made people feel them, so of course he set up his own little experiments. Sometimes he even wore a white lab coat to get that professional feel. It was all about image, or so he was told, a trustworthy image as carefully crafted as his filthy purple suit and permanent bad hair day.

It was about the message.

And oh, oh, how his lady sent her message. She sent it with the easy confidence of her strides, the sidelong looks to see if she was being followed, the tightening of her lips that said she didn't want to be in this dingy bar, oh no she didn't, didn't want to meet with Maroni's man him, of course, in yet another costume designed to send a message to people, didn't want anything but dear old Gramma's hospital bills to go away.

He'd forced a shower upon himself who said psychopaths had poor self-control? for this date, gnashed his teeth and growled to himself as the water cleaned him off, washed away his face --- he would put it back on later. After. Post. Post-grin. Post-her. Right now he wanted to huddle at the end of the bar and watch her as she waited, jumpy in this nest of vipers that she herself was part of, part of but thinking she was better than, better than but just the same as.

Her face. Her face. Her beautiful face was all round eyes, round cheeks, full lips pulled into a frown, his lady was unhappy and he knew it, saw it --- he must be getting better at seeing emotions. Oh, but he had her grin already, all ready for her to make her happy again, and he would, he mused as he shoved away from the bar and sauntered over to her, he would make her smile.

"I knew this lady," he declared as he edged in between her and an overly-muscled Italian. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "She gave me an Anna grin every time she came around."

The nails of her left hand no ring there, his lady, ripe for the plucking, no one waiting at home and worrying, no one but Gramma-in-the-Hospital rapped sharply on the bar counter, the only sign of annoyance as he looked her up and down, the only sign of his grin the crinkling of the corners of his eyes.

"Is there a reason you're talking to me?"

Oh, she wounded him deep as she brushed him off, and he couldn't didn't stop the small snuffles of laughter the crept out of his scarf. He flicked his fingers at the bartender. "You look like you could use a drink. What's your poison? Jack an' Coke? Get my lady here a Jack an' Coke," he ordered, still grinning, his voice a natural whine but not whiney.

That was her cue, enter stage left, put on her best most reluctant smile and treat him nice. She cradled the drink but didn't partake not a drinker, his smile, just watched him out of her big round brown eyes, her hair today curled for the occasion he'd twisted his to get it curlier, aiming to impress his smile rather than frighten her and black in the dark lighting, her lips red like she never wore at work just one of the guys.

He slipped into a drawl, watching the reflection of neon in her brown eyes from far too close. "What's your name, love? What's your story? I'm a great dancer; take a twirl with me."

Charming, charming, Mr. Charming, that was his name, that was what got her off of the bar stool and on to the dance floor, resting her cheek against his shoulder while they rocked to the music, her curls tickling against his nose as he breathed in her perfume vanilla had always been a favourite of his, how had she known? his oh-so-magic lady and reveled in the warmth of a body close to his that wasn't quaking with fear or revulsion, no, his lady would never treat him like that, would she? Not while he wore her grin.

Oh, she probably would, who was he kidding? But for now she held him as his muscles tensed and his skin ached for want of the contact, him greedily tightening his grip, delighted at the body that was fuller than the squeeze's, curvier, better fed and what was it with women imitating stick-bugs?, more comfortable to touch because he couldn't break his lady, not this one, not his smile, oh-no.

She tried to speak and he raised their entwined hands in the dark-musty room dark like her to place them on her lips; he wasn't here to talk about Maroni or the plan or the Dent he needed to iron out noooo, he was here for her, for his smile and the plan would wait until the next day.

"Take me home," he eagerly demanded two drinks and four or eight dances later, as the musty-dark was replaced by garish-bright, the cold wind let inside from the open stable doors as the herd was put out to pasture for the night. Now her eyebrows twitched, now he placed discomfort and unease and perhaps a little fear you could teach an old dog new tricks cross her round-pretty face as she told him no of course not, but she would in time because he owned his smile, he always had and always would but she would call him a cab and he laughed, almost pulling his smile-hiding scarf down as his head fell back and he shook, he laughed and laughed and then brought their faces together, rubbing the tips of their noses in an Eskimo kiss like he'd gotten as a boy, holding her cheeks in his palms and snickering to himself.

Then he wished her a good night and walked off down the street, swinging his arms as he went, singing.

"Goodnight, sweetheart, we-ell, it's time to go-o-o . . . Goodnight, sweetheart, we-ell, it's time to go-o-o . . . I hate to leave you but I really must say-y-y, goodnight, sweetheart, goodni-ight . . ."

*****

. . . Yeah, that was crackish.

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 26

2009-01-04T01:01:24Z

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

Jack woke up with a horrible crick in his back, Rory laying across his legs and purring with delight that he’d gotten Jack into such an uncomfortable position (an assumption on the human’s part, but probably true), and Rachel’s hand covering his face. She was still asleep and he took a moment to kiss her palm before easing into a sitting position. He’d let Bruce and Charles stay in their room with the firm admonition to stay out of the bondage gear, much to their mutual disgust, and getting under Bruce’s skin had made him feel better. Helna, afraid to stay home by herself, had been put in Ava’s room along with Mitzi, and Dick was sleeping on the love seat.

He hated them for being in his personal space. He hated all of them, and had to run to the kitchen to throw up in the sink before he could think through the sudden red haze across his vision. Rory followed him and curled around his feet in the hopes of either getting food or tripping him. The cat was still purring as Jack rinsed his mouth out and then grabbed some orange juice to get rid of the taste of bile.

“Shut up,” he muttered before stumbling back to the living room. He had to blink a few times before he jumped a little and stepped back. “Damn it, Susie, why are you hiding there?”

All he’d seen over the edge of the couch were her big blue eyes, the rest of her covered in a blanket. She winced and he heard her sniffle. “Are you still sick, Daddy?”

He shushed her as he peeked at Rachel and then picked her up, taking her into the kitchen and sitting at the table. “I’m . . . yeah. I am. I’m sorry I snapped at you, tootsie roll.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, Daddy.”

He sighed and wiped at his eyes. “Why are you calling me Daddy?”

She was pouting, her lower lip pushed out and quivering a bit. “Rachel said I could, because you’re my Daddy now that Mommy’s gone.”

Oh. Yeah. That. Jack smiled out of reflex when the child felt his forehead and cheeks with the backs of her hands, hm-ing to herself. She didn’t know how to feel for a fever but she was trying, and her small hands felt good, cool against his skin.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Can I have cereal?”

“If we have any.” Jack honestly couldn’t remember if they had food in the house, or if they had enough. He got up, settling Susie on his hip, and went to the cupboard to check. “Frosted Flakes, yum. Or . . . What is this? Whole grain . . . crap. We want Frosted Flakes, don’t we?”

Susie giggled. “That’s a bad word, Daddy.”

“I know.” He pulled the box out and set it on the counter, then opened the fridge and looked in. “Just soymilk. That woman’s trying to kill me.”

“Rachel says that milk is bad for you, that all the protein sucks up all the good stuff. She says it’s supposed to make a baby cow into a big fat cow, and ---”

“Rachel sure thinks she knows a lot, doesn’t she?” Jack mused.

“She knows a bunch!” Susie was nodding enthusiastically. “She’s smarter than you are, Daddy.”

That made the man laugh. “Yeah, I suppose she is. But she doesn’t know how to blow stuff up like I do. So she doesn’t know everything.”

Susie thought about that as she watched Jack pour the cereal into two bowls, followed by the soymilk. “Well . . . That’s why she’s the boss of you. She has you to know stuff she doesn’t need to know.”

“Really? That makes sense.” He took the bowls, adding spoons, to the table and sat down again. “But who am I the boss of?”

She shrugged. “No one.”

He laughed again. “No one? Not even you? I thought Daddies were the bosses of their kids.”

“Well . . . Maybe you’re the boss of me, but Rachel’s the boss of you, so really Rachel’s the boss of me. I don’t have to do what you say if Rachel says I don’t.” She munched contentedly on her cereal.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Well.” She had a point, but he ignored it in favour of his own cereal. He brought his spoon down on Susie’s when she tried to dip it into his bowl. “Hey, you’ve got your own.”

“But you say food tastes better when you steal it from someone else.” Susie tried again, and again he fended her off. “Remember? When you take my food, that’s what you say.”

“But I’m bigger, so I can fight you off.”

She didn’t like that, glaring up at him. “That’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, Susie.” Jack kissed her nose and let her eat his cereal. “Does it taste better?”

“World peace has been achieved!” was her declaration.

Jack laughed as he picked her up, stood, and set her back down. “Great. Keep eating, peaches. I’m going to check on Rachel.” He got a chirpy acknowledgement and went back to the living room, kneeling next to Rachel and brushing some hair out of her face before kissing her cheek. He wanted to wake her up with licks and kisses all over her body, take her into the bath where she’d be most comfortable and make love with her, wash away everything he’d done, all the promises he’d broken, but she needed to rest. All he let himself do was kiss down her neck, pulling down the tank top of his that she was wearing to place gentle kisses over the swell of her breast. She sighed and twisted a little.

“Jack, what are you doing?”

“Kissing you?” he guessed.

Her fingers tugged gently at his hair. “Jack, we have guests over. Dick’s right there.”

They were both whispering. “So, be quiet.” He flicked his tongue over her nipple and then held it there, making a slightly surprised face. “What the . . .” Rachel squeaked when he started sucking gently at her breast; he’d teased her about having beer-flavoured nipples, but this was different. This was . . . sweet. Almost like honey. He liked it.

She tugged at his hair, harder, trying to pull him away. “Jack, stop. Knock it off. Ohhhhh . . .”

“I thought breast milk started after birth,” he murmured briefly.

“It does,” Rachel panted. She pinched his cheek, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone. “Stop it, Jack, I’m serious.”

“What is this, then? Practice milk?”

“Colostrum, and yes, essentially.” Now she was pushing at his shoulders before pulling him against her again, which made Jack chuckle.

“What are you doing, Jack?” Susie wanted to know from the other side of the couch.

He stopped and rolled his eyes up to meet her curious blue ones, then slowly let Rachel’s nipple go and covered her breast again as Rachel groaned in embarrassment. “Uh . . .”

The girl tilted her head at him, resting her chin on her hands. “I thought only babies drank milk from their mommies.”

“Uh . . . I’m just, uhm . . . making sure it’s working.” Jack nodded quickly and patted Rachel’s breast. “Yep, all working, ready for Ava when she’s born.”

“Does it taste good? Can I taste it?”

His wife had pulled her blanket over her head, shaking with laughter and leaving Jack all alone. He chewed his lower lip as he tried to think. “Uh . . . It tastes . . . Uhm . . . No, no, you can’t taste it, Susie, and it tastes like, uhm, kinda like honey.”

“Jack!” was the muffled protest from the blanket and pillow that covered Rachel’s head.

“Well, it does,” he defended himself, rubbing her stomach. “Susie, wanna make Rachel some breakfast? I bet she and Ava would like that. Why don’t you get some potatoes out and start washing them off, okay? I need to, uhm, sit here for a bit. Go. Now.” The kid didn’t look like she trusted his intentions, but turned and tromped back to the kitchen. Jack leaned down and picked up the edge of the pillow to glare at Rachel’s sniggering face. “You could have helped me out, there.”

“Why?” she giggled. She was still blushing. “You deserved that, Jack. You’re lucky she didn’t walk in on anything else.”

“Aren’t we all?” the loveseat muttered. Jack pulled back to glare at Dick as he sat up, almost as red as Rachel was.

“Look, kid, get out of my house if you don’t like it. I’ll get it on wherever I want to, you hear me?”

“Stop it,” Rachel told him firmly. He looked down a her and softened, tugging the pillow and blanket off of her to cover his face with kisses as she laughed and held him tightly. “I love you, Jack. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Get a better life,” he muttered, but helped her sit up and leaned into her embrace. They’d be pissed that their ploy with Tom hadn’t worked, try something more drastic. Jack was torn between needing to act as soon as possible and wanting to stay as long as possible. He hated indecision. It made him weak, vulnerable.

“Jack, how many potatoes should I wash?”

“The whole bag,” he called back. “I have to feed half of Gotham today.”

“Right, and how much money do you put toward food in this house?” Rachel wanted to know.

Jack stopped complaining. “You just sit here while we cook. Can Douche --- I’m sorry, can Bruce cook? I know Charles can. Dick, can you cook? You all might as well earn your keep. Go help Susie. Susie, show Wonder Boy here where the recipes are.”

“Boy Wonder,” Dick muttered as he got up. He was staring past Jack as the man stood, his cheeks flushing again.

Jack turned his head and tilted it at Janet, who stood in the doorway in her knee-length nightgown, her arms crossed over her chest. He looked back at Dick, then rolled his eyes and coughed when Janet didn’t move out of his way. She jumped and stepped to the side, blushing.

“You help cook, too,” he ordered her. “Or help Rachel. Whatever she needs you to do.”

He laughed quietly as Dick fell over himself to help Janet, wanting to know what she and Rachel wanted for breakfast, if they were warm enough, and generally making a fool of himself. Up the stairs Jack tip-toed, to be met at the top by his Mitzi-girl-thing, who was pushing at the child fence or whatever it was that was keeping her from tumbling down the stairs.

“Ja-Ja!” she squealed, holding her arms up. “Goo’ mo’ning!”

“Good morning, baby-doll,” he told her, stepping over the fence and then picking her up. “Is Mama still asleep?”

“Sleep,” the toddler confirmed, kissing his nose. He scrunched it at her and then kicked at his door.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Get useful. Dick’s fawning over Janet, so I need you two to cook breakfast.”

“Cook your own breakfast,” Bruce muttered.

“I’m only nice to you because your parents are dead,” Jack told him. “It’s just pity. Now get out and get busy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, no swearing while my Mitzi-thing’s around.”

“We’re up,” Charles snapped. “Go away.”

Jack grinned at Mitzi as he turned to Ava’s room. “That’s how you tell ‘em,” he said.

“Tell ‘em!”

“That’s right.” He peeked in and Helna was still asleep, tossing a little. “Can you stay with Mama until breakfast is done?”

The girl-child didn’t understand everything he’d said and she got a very thoughtful look on her face before shaking her head slowly. “No . . .”

“No, huh? Okay, then.” Jack stepped over the fence and went back down the stairs to the kitchen. “Janet, put some clothes on.” She and Dick looked up guiltily and then she slid past Jack to her room. “Susie, keep your clothes on. No, Mitzi, you keep yours on, too. Christ, I live with a bunch of nudists . . .”

“Hello, pot?” Rachel called. “This is the kettle!”

“You don’t wander around naked unless I tell you to; be quiet and rest,” he ordered. She guffawed.

“Daddy, are we still going out tomorrow?” Susie asked. She was very carefully mixing batter, the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.

“Tomorrow?”

“For Halloween! Please?”

Jack sighed and bounced Mitzi on his hip as he gave her his knuckle to suck on. She started chewing, and he winced a little at her sharp teeth. He’d forgotten about Halloween. Crap. “Uh, yeah, pumpkin, we are.”

Her eyes got wide. “We need pumpkins! We don’t have any pumpkins, Daddy!”

“Charles bought some yesterday,” Janet said as she came out in a grey peasant blouse and a loose jean skirt. Wonder Boy was staring at her again and Jack glared. He looked away as soon as Janet looked his way.

Susie relaxed. “Charles thinks of everything!”

“That’s what she’s good for,” Jack mused as the genius in question tromped down the stairs with Bruce on her heels. “You didn’t make a mess in my room, did you?”

“We have respect for other people’s property and common decency,” the other man growled.

Jack rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have known a thing if I hadn’t told you, so shut up.”

“He’s got a point,” Charles said, “and both of you shut up. I’m not in the mood to deal with your issues today.”

“I’m going to be a kitty for Halloween,” Susie told Dick earnestly as he sat to cut up the potatoes she’d washed. “Daddy said he’ll dye my hair so I can look like Rory.”

Said demon slithered into the room and mrowled at the door, his pale blue eyes wide as he looked around. Jack leaned down and picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder as the cat purred.

“You’re nicer than Rory is,” he told Susie. Rory pulled himself onto Jack’s shoulders, curling around them and digging his claws in to keep his balance. The pain didn’t even register.

Mitzi touching his chest did, however. “Owwy?” she asked him. “Ja-Ja, owwy better?”

Crap, his cuts. She’d been worried about them the previous night, too, during their bath. Jack nodded quickly. “I’m fine, baby. I’m fine. Be nice, okay? Pet Rory gently.”

“Nice,” she repeated as she very carefully pet the cat. “Gentle.”

“That’s right, minion. Gentle. Good girl.”

“Aren’t you helping?” Bruce asked as Jack walked to the living room.

“Of course I am; I’m keeping Mitzi occupied and making sure Rachel’s all right.” He sat next to her and Rory walked onto the back of the couch, curling up there and watching him. “You all right, beautiful?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m starving.”

“Breakfast’ll be done soon. When do the cops want to talk with me?”

Rachel blinked up at him, her blue eyes shadowed. “Today or tomorrow. I told them you need some time.”

Jack closed his eyes. “Have them get a hold of Gordon. I gave him everything I know about . . . well, you know.”

Rachel sighed. “Jack, you told Jim, but wouldn’t tell the FBI?”

“I don’t trust the Feds,” he shrugged. “I trust Commissioner Awesome. He’s good people.”

“I’ll let them know that.” Rachel watched Mitzi play with Jack’s hair for a bit before he opened his eyes and ran his fingers down her stomach.

“Good morning, baby,” he murmured. Ava kicked back against his hand and Rachel sighed as she flipped over slowly. “Ew, that’s gross, kid. Don’t do that.”

“So . . .”

Jack looked up at her. “Button?”

Rachel smiled. “I’d like to call the Quinzels today. I’ve never been properly introduced.”

True; the one time Rachel had met Harleen’s parents had been at the woman’s funeral. Jack shrugged. “Okay. Their number’s in my phone.”

Now was as good a time as ever; he wouldn’t get as upset if he was worried about her health. Rachel yawned a little harder than she needed to and nestled against Jack, watching as he diverted almost all of his attention to making sure she was all right. When he was properly fixated on her, she looked up at him with a gentle smile.

“If you could find your mother,” she murmured, “would you want to? Just to know she was alive?”

Jack went still and his face stiffened as he stared down at his wife. His mother. Again. Rachel would obsess over this forever, if he let her. “No,” he forced out. “She abandoned me. That says it all right there.”

Stunning blue eyes implored him and he shuddered a bit. “What if you could find out what really happened? You were so young, Jack.”

“I don’t want to know what ‘really’ happened. She left, Rachel. She left me with him, knowing how abusive he was. What’s there to find out?”

“What if it was to save you? What if he threatened to kill you if she didn’t leave?”

“Then I’d rather have died,” Jack snapped. Rachel winced and he lowered his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He did want to know why the woman had left him, not even saying goodbye. Just . . . gone, one morning, taking the last bit of happiness from his life. “I don’t want to know that she found a better life and left me there to rot,” he murmured. “I don’t want to know that I’ve probably got brothers or sisters somewhere, who lived a better life than I did, when she could have come back and got me. I don’t want to know, Rachel. Please.”

Rachel sighed. “Phillip called when you were in the bath last night. He talked with some of his colleagues, and they want me to go Metropolis to give birth.”

Jack drew back and looked at her suspiciously. “Why Metropolis? It’s an hour away. Why won’t the hospital here do?”

“Not if they fly me there,” Rachel said. “One of Phillip’s friends is the main obstetrician at Metropolis General; he’s got a lot more experience with older mothers giving birth than Phillip does. He wants me and Ava to have the best care we can get, Jack.”

She got a sigh. “Is there anything else about this pregnancy that you’re not telling me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you, Jack.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Look, Met Gen’s a lot more sophisticated than Loleta. Better care.”

“If you try to guilt trip me by asking if I want the best care for you and Ava or not . . .” Jack left the threat hanging, really having nothing to threaten Rachel with, and she kissed his neck.

“I love you, Jack.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Fine, so we go visit Supes in Metropolis. You win. Anything else you want?”

“You, for the rest of my life.”

Jack looked down at his wife, but her eyes were closed. “. . . You got it, babe.”

“I better.” Janet came out to give them their breakfast, effectively ending the conversation for the time being.

~

Rachel had just sent off an e-mail to Bob when her phone rang. She picked it up and cradled it against her ear. “Hello?”

“Rachel?”

She frowned. “Lee? What’s wrong?” Her secretary sounded breathless, nervous.

“Nothing. I’m sorry to bother you at home, Rachel, but Mark’s out of the office and he needs the briefs on the Tilley case, and I can’t find them. I poked around your office, but they’re not there. I know you’re supposed to be on maternity leave, but could you come down here, please? I’m at my wits’ end and he really needs them.”

“They’re in the file cabinet, Lee. You can’t miss them.”

“Maybe he moved them; they’re not there. Oh, and I have some papers Mark needs the girls to sign. About the adoption.”

The woman sounded stressed, and Rachel sighed. “All right, we’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you,” Lee murmured before hanging up.

Rachel grumbled to herself as she struggled to stand up. Jack was putting the finishing touches on Susie’s costume and looked up at her. “Jack, I need take the girls to the office real quick. Mark needs some case files and Lee can’t find them, and there‘s some papers he needs them to sign. We won’t be long.”

He stood up. “Let me get my keys.”

“No, you stay here. Janet can drive me. Come on, Susie.”

“Rachel ---”

“I’m just going to pop in, get her the files, and come home. There’s no need to fuss; Charles and Bruce are in town. Let them know I’m coming. Janet!”

The girl poked her head out of her room, where she’d been showing Dick something online. “Yeah?”

“I need you to drive me to town.” Rachel smiled down at Susie, then kissed Jack to shut him up when he took her arm. “Why don’t you work on that surprise for Susie? Get it all set up in the living room.” she whispered. Jack had gone and bought the girl a new kitten the previous day, hiding it in he and Rachel’s room.

He was frowning. “I want to go with you.”

“Jack, come on,” Rachel cajoled. “Get it all set up; Dick can help.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m calling Bruce to let him know you’re coming.”

“You do that.” She smiled and let him pinch her rear before turning to Janet and Susie. “Come on, you two.”

“What are we signing?” Janet wanted to know.

‘Adoption,’ Rachel mouthed at her as Jack walked them to the car. Dick hurried to open the door for Janet. She smiled up at him and he flushed. Rachel laughed as Jack rolled his eyes. “You acted the same way when we first met,” she reminded him.

“And I was a pathetic loser, too,” he muttered. He kissed her firmly, tongue slipping against hers as she sighed. “Be quick,” he begged.

“You just get the kitten set up,” Rachel told him with a smile as she kissed along his scars. “Maybe I’ll be really tired tomorrow night and need everyone but you to go away for a few hours.”

“Are you sure?” Jack whispered. He wanted time to themselves, but was afraid of hurting her. “You need to rest.”

“And amazingly,” Rachel laughed, “you can be very gentle when you want to be. We won’t be gone long. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He closed the passenger door and stepped back as they drove off, then glanced at the boy next to him. “All right, Wonder Penis, let’s get to work.” Dick’s angry protests followed him to the house.

~

“Lee?” Rachel called as she opened the office door. The woman looked up, pale and shaking. “God, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“I’m not feeling well,” the woman whispered. “Just . . . Get the briefs, okay? Mark needs them. Girls, come here and sign these. Be quick, Rachel. Hurry.”

Rachel sighed and unlocked her office door, going to the file cabinet and pulling the files out, wondering how Lee could have missed them. “I’ve got them,” she called as her computer beeped with an incoming e-mail. She didn’t recall leaving it on. It was set to turn on half an hour before she got to work, though, so maybe she’d just forgotten to turn the auto-on off. She leaned over with a wince to check it, but it wasn’t an address she was familiar with. The only thing stopping her from deleting it as spam was the title: Jack’s Affair.

Rachel’s finger hovered over the delete key, her heart suddenly pounding. It was just a stupid spam e-mail. She should delete it. Jack was waiting at home. Rachel opened the e-mail.

It was a video file. She looked up and out the window, thinking hard. This had nothing to do with her Jack. Just some random e-mail. It would probably put a virus on her computer. She downloaded it.

The first clip was dated less than a month ago, the night Jack had first said he‘d been invited to Tom’s. What was showing on the screen, though, was the inside of a bar and Jack dancing with Veronica the way Rachel had thought he only danced with her, all grinding hips and grasping hands. She sat down heavily. “Oh, God . . .”

The date changed, but the bar was the same, Jack dirty dancing with Veronica, then standing far too close to her, his hands on her thighs, talking in her ear as she grabbed his shirt and wrapped her legs around his. Then he kissed her and it was a stab to Rachel’s heart; she couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes as Veronica led her husband to some stairs at the back of the bar. The scene changed, and what Rachel saw made her sob out loud. She wanted to look away, to not see that woman and Jack in bed together, Jack touching Veronica like he’d sworn to only touch Rachel, letting Veronica put her mouth on him and loving it, by the look on his face. She sat at her desk and cried as she watched the affair unfold, wondering who the hell had taped this and sent it to her, who had sat outside Veronica’s house and taped them having sex against the door, in the shower.

The last segment made her almost physically ill and forget about whoever had done this. Sunday night. Sunday. Night. Jack and Veronica, in bed again, Jack with . . . Jack with a knife. He was cutting himself as that woman rode him, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Rachel cried out and shoved herself away from the computer as Janet and Susie walked in, and her blood went cold as she realised why Lee had wanted her to hurry, as she realised that by opening that damned e-mail, she’d been manoeuvred into making the biggest mistake of her life. The door shut.

~

“What do you mean, she’s not at the office?” Jack asked irritably. “Maybe she’s not there yet. You know how Janet drives.”

“I’m saying no one’s here,” Bruce snapped. “It’s all locked up.”

“Well, fuck, did you call her?”

“She’s not answering her phone.”

Jack stared down at the spotted tabby kitten that was sleeping at his feet. His phone beeped with an incoming video call. It was a Gotham area code. He stared at it. “Call you back, B,” he whispered before switching over. “You fucking cunt.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Anita admonished with a shake of her finger. “That’s no way to talk to the person who’s in charge of your wife’s safety, isn’t it?” She leaned to the side, resting her head on Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel had duct tape over her mouth and tears streaming from her eyes. “Knock it off,” Anita snapped as a child whimpered. She sighed. “Unfortunately for him, Maury doesn’t quite get the first rule of a hostage situation. But you do, don’t you, Jack? You understand it quite well.” She swung her phone around to take in Janet and Susie, both bound like Rachel. It looked like they were in a van. “You don’t harm the hostages until you absolutely have to. If you’re good, Jack, and give us what we want, they go free. We’re taking them with us for the time being, though, just to make sure you don’t go off half-cocked.”

“Let them go,” Jack whispered. “You don’t want this, Anita.”

“Oh, but I do,” she purred, focusing on Rachel’s face. “Oh, you should have seen the way Rachel was sobbing when she saw the nasty things you were doing with Veronica. Poor Rachel, can’t keep her husband happy, so he goes off with the town whore . . . Ew, I hope you wore a condom, at least. Oh, but you didn’t, did you? I’d get him tested if I were you, Rachel.”

“Let them go!” Jack bellowed. His head exploded with pain and he fell to his knees, gasping.

“It’s your own damned fault,” Anita snapped as Maury giggled. “If you’d given in when we first asked, this wouldn’t be happening. Now get to Gotham before the mob decides they can stand a little collateral damage, if you know what I mean.” She hung up and Rachel’s muffled sobs rang in his ears as he screamed into the floor, slamming his fists down until they bled. Jack grabbed on to the counter and puked into the sink as he saw Dick running to the house from the dock.

The boy was too late. Jack straightened, close his eyes . . . and disappeared.

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 25

2009-01-03T05:01:04Z

Looky who's finally updated. ^_^ This is kinda a schizo chapter; all over the place. I'm so sorry I left everyone hanging! Not my fault, but, eh. I do hope y'all like it.

Previous chapters & Speak: speak_sing

Soft tapping pulled him from a sleep that had been marred by some of the worst nightmares he’d had in years. He jerked awake, not knowing where he was, if he was in danger, or even who he was; the weapon he reached for wasn’t there, and his chest and shoulders ached. He glanced down at them and managed to spot the Band-Aids scattered over his skin, even if there seemed to be alternating amounts of them before he squeezed his eyes shut once more. The tapping came again and he ignored it, curling into a tight ball, his arms around his knees, soaked in sweat and his stomach twisting. His life was over. Janet was going to tell Charles, or Rachel, or the police . . . She was going to tell somebody what he’d done to her --- it was the only sensible thing for the girl to do, after all --- and he was going to go to jail. Rachel was going to leave him. She was going to take Ava with her, and he’d never, ever see his baby girl. He’d never get to hold her, he’d never get to watch her grow up. He’d be a registered sex offender; of course he’d never be allowed to see his child. Rachel would hate him. She’d leave him alone and there would be no reason for him to be, to exist, and he’d slowly disappear back into the oblivion he’d come from.

Panic gripped him and Jack gasped in air until he couldn’t stand it and then threw the covers off, rolling onto the floor with a thud and crawling to the bathroom. He barely made it in time and huddled tightly against the toilet seat as he heaved up the contents of his stomach. There wasn’t much there. Jack heaved until the bile stopped, then dry-heaved until he thought he’d puke out his entrails.

Once his stomach had subsided he curled on his side and shook on the floor, unheeding of the taste in his mouth. His head was hurting worse than ever; he’d had migraines before, but this pain surpassed those by far. Every heartbeat made his head throb, a blinding pain that brought white spots to his tightly closed eyes, spots that sliced into his brain and made him whimper. His soft mewls caused more throbs, more killing spots, more whimpers, a cycle that repeated until Jack grabbed fistfuls of hair and screamed in agony. His scream choked off to a sob and tears scalded his cheeks, and he slipped into a semi-haze until gentle pressure on his ankle roused him from his stupor.

“Jack . . .” Veronica. A whine wriggled its way out of his throat as she rubbed his foot and murmured his name again, and he forced one eye partially open.

“Not such a catch anymore, huh?” he croaked out

The corners of her eyes tightened but she ignored his comment. “Get up and get in the shower; there are people here to see you.”

“I’m not going to leave Rachel for you. Even if she leaves, I won’t take you instead. I don’t want you.”

“It’s amazing how often I’ve heard that,” she replied dryly. “Now get up and get clean.”

Jack watched as she stood and started the shower, then toed at him until he’d pulled himself into the tub. He hissed as the hot water slid under his Band-Aids and stung the cuts there, but gladly welcomed the pain as punishment. Veronica waited until he’d dragged himself up and was washing himself off, leaning heavily against the shower wall, and then left. People to see him. He didn’t know what time it was, but it had to be the police. They would take him into custody, get the information they wanted about Anita and Maury, and then throw him in jail for molesting Janet. Rachel would yell, and Rachel would scream, but what broke Jack’s already battered and bruised heart the most was the thought of the tears she would cry as she realised that the man she loved was a monster through and through, never able to change.

He was on his knees, his forehead pressed against the bottom of the bathtub as he sobbed, when the water started running cold. He didn’t want to face Rachel. He didn’t want her to have to pay for his constant mistakes. He’d been a fool to stick around after Harleen’s death --- maybe he’d been a fool to be in this world in the first place. He’d just . . . wanted a chance.

Finally, shivering, Jack rose up and turned the shower off out of reflex. His clothes were sitting on the toilet seat, clean and folded --- no lingering traces of sex on them from either of last night’s women. Why was he only capable of remorse after the fact? He took and took and took, used people up like they were nothing, and only once he was in trouble for his actions did he feel badly about them.

Veronica was talking as he started a slow, heavy trudge down the stairs. For a moment he thought Rachel was there, but of course Rachel wasn’t. She hadn’t been there last night, when the plane had landed. She’d said she wasn’t going to be his wife for long; she was probably drawing up divorce papers in the office. That thought brought another stab of physical agony to Jack’s chest and he moaned a little as he swerved into the banister. He took a moment to steady himself, head lowered and curls in his face, before concentrating on the next step down.

“Go on, sweety.”

“. . . Daddy?”

That wasn’t Susie’s voice. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her small feet on the stairs, either, because Rachel would never bring the child around him again. Because Jack was so sure that the small hands grabbing at his couldn’t possibly be there, he felt it perfectly reasonable to sit down and gather the apparition into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder as he sobbed.

Her voice was small, frightened. “Daddy, let’s go home. We’re here to take you home, Daddy.”

That made him cry harder. He shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely. “I can’t.”

Tiny hands touched his face, pet his cheeks. “But you have to come home, Daddy. Rachel says you’re sick, and I have to take care of you. I brought your medicine. Rachel says you’ll get better once you take it.”

“Rachel hates me, baby,” he murmured as blonde curls tickled his nose. “She doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

“No, Rachel loves you. You just have to take your medicine.” She shrugged out of her small backpack and held it in her lap, unzipping it and pulling out a bag of pills and a sippy cup that sloshed with liquid. “See? I brought your medicine for you. Please take it, Daddy.” Cupid lips quivered and blue eyes filled with tears as she tried to get him to take the pills. “Please?”

Jack raised his eyes to Rachel, whose own eyes were hollow and bloodshot. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all and had been crying all night, and she probably had. More tears, all his fault, ran down her cheeks as she watched him and Susie from the bottom of the stairs. Veronica was looking uncomfortable by the front door.

“Please, Jack, come home,” Rachel whispered. Her hand was white as it clutched the banister. “Take your pills and come home.”

“You don’t want me to,” he muttered as Susie forced pills into his mouth. She held the sippy cup to his lips and tipped it until he had to drink or have the orange juice dribble down his chin. Jack swallowed the pills and shuddered when Rachel rubbed her stomach in a small circle. She did that when Ava was moving, and he didn’t think she even noticed when she did.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she told him, choking on her words as she cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was mad, Jack. I wasn’t thinking. I need you to come home.”

He held Susie tighter and rested his forehead against her shoulder. She hugged him and pet his hair. “So I can sign divorce papers?”

Rachel’s sob at his assumption was audible. “No,” she whimpered. “No, so you can be a father, Jack. So you can be a husband. I need you to come home, Jack. Tom woke up this morning and told the FBI that you didn’t send him to Folsom, that he went on his own. Helna and Mitzi are at the house; Mitzi’s been crying for you. Please, Jack, let’s just go. I love you.”

“You’re better off without me. I should die.”

“Damn it, Jack,” Rachel cried, “I need you! Ava needs you! Janet and Susie need you! I’m so sorry, Jack, I didn’t mean what I said!” She was taking the stairs one step at a time, panting as she sobbed. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he insisted. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he tensed at the contact. “I can’t . . . Janet . . .”

“She told me,” Rachel said softly. Jack’s head whipped around to stare at her in shock. Janet had told her what he’d done, and she wasn’t angry?

Then his eyes narrowed. “She told you what happened?”

His Rachel nodded. “She feels terrible about it, Jack.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault --- what did she tell you?”

Rachel was kissing his shoulder and rubbing his arms. “That she got drunk and came on to you before passing out. I’m not mad at you for that, Jack, and I’m not mad at Janet. I just need you to come home with me.”

Janet had . . . lied? Why? Susie was sniffling, trying to be strong and failing, and Jack got physically dizzy as his world once more drastically rearranged itself. He had to talk to Janet, find out why she’d lied to protect him.

“Sweety, please . . .”

The fight went out of him and Jack closed his eyes. “Okay. I . . . Okay.” Susie looked up hopefully and he forced his lips into a smile for her benefit. “Let’s go home, pumpkin.”

She jumped up and put the sippy cup away, zipping her backpack and taking one of his hands in both of hers as she tried to tug him up. Jack wasn’t sure what to make of his new situation, so he defaulted into obedience until he could get his mind organised. He reached for Rachel automatically and stopped, his hand hovering at her elbow as she manoeuvred down the stairs. He needed to touch her, but wasn’t sure if she wanted him to. For the first time in almost four years, Jack was afraid to touch Rachel, afraid of her pulling away.

She looked over at him and then leaned into his shoulder gently, resting just enough of her weight on him so he had to wrap his arm around her waist to readjust his centre of balance. A soft sigh escaped both of them as the solid physical contact; it was what they --- what Jack --- desperately needed.

“Pick me up,” Susie wanted as soon as they were at the bottom of the stairs. She held her arms up, tugging at Jack’s shirt.

“Susie, Jack’s not well enough ---”

“I can do it,” he cut Rachel off quietly. “If . . . it’s all right.”

She looked at him for a long moment before nodding. When Helna had called her last night and told her about Tom, she’d been furious with Jack. She’d been out of her mind with anger, yelling and sobbing, throwing his clothes into a suitcase with the firm intention of sending him back to Gotham. She’d been determined to go in to her office early today and draw up divorce papers. Charles had wrestled the suitcase out of her hands and held her down on the couch as Rachel had screamed, and when she’d collapsed into sobs her friend had held her tightly. She’d very gently asked Rachel what she thought a separation --- just a separation --- would do to Jack, not mentioning anything about Rachel’s threatened divorce. Rachel hadn’t cared for a while, but once she’d stopped crying, Charles had asked once more what Rachel thought a separation would do to her husband.

Watching Jack now, Rachel realised that it would have killed him. She provided him a stability that he wasn’t able to produce on his own. She gave him . . . a place. A purpose. Reason.

She’d been perfectly within her right to be angry with him; she was still upset that he hadn’t told the FBI about Anita and Maury. But to fly off the handle like that, to tell him she was leaving, to threaten to destroy his entire world . . .

“Glad you’re back,” Charles said as she held the car door open.

Rachel got in the back seat with Jack and Susie and placed her palm on his cheek, gently turning him to look at her as he buckled up. His eyes were as red as she knew her own were, and the warmth had seeped out of them, leaving them haunted and wounded. She didn’t know what to say to make it better. All she could think to do was pull him down into a gentle kiss, curling her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck and not letting him pull back. After a moment’s resistance he melted into her and held her tightly, pressing his hands into her stomach and murmuring into the kiss as Ava responded.

Ava. Their little accident. Their daughter. The second best thing to ever happen to Jack. Jack was going crazy. Rachel didn’t know why it had taken so long for her to recognise the signs, but Jack was slowly, surely, slipping back into insanity. She just didn’t know why. No, she knew why --- the murders and her pregnancy. But what would him regressing accomplish? Unless that was what Anita and Maureen wanted. But . . . why?

“Let’s move to California,” she whispered when Jack finally let her go.

He was resting his lips against hers and blinked. “Huh?”

“Let’s move to California. After we adopt the girls, we’ll all go to California. What do you think?” Anything to get him away from the people who wanted to hurt him, who were taking her husband away from her.

He was staring at her in confusion. “I . . . why?”

So they couldn’t find them. So her family could be safe. So Jack could finally have a chance at a normal life. Rachel just sighed and pulled Jack down to cradle his head on her bosom. His own sigh warmed her through her shirt. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered into his hair as she kissed the top of his head. Susie was curled up on his other side, his arm around her shoulder. “Please don’t do this, Jack. We need you.”

“They’re not going to stop coming after me,” was his reply. “They’re never going to leave me alone.”

“Then let’s go away. Let’s just go, Jack.”

He shook his head. “They’ll find me. I don‘t want anything but to be with you and the girls, but they’ll find me wherever I go, Rachel. They’re not going to stop. If they can’t get me directly, they’ll come after you and the girls. Where’s Janet?”

“At home. Bruce and Dick are with her. She’s safe.”

Jack sighed. He didn’t know if Rachel truly thought that, or if she was in denial about the safety of their dysfunctional family unit. He stared down at Ava as he spoke. “I ran into Harleen’s parents in Gotham.”

Even pressed against her chest, Jack could barely hear his wife’s whisper. “What happened?”

“They . . . want us to call them if we need them. They want to be there for us. I told them okay.”

She was quiet for a while, running her palms over his shoulders and back, sometimes trailing her fingers through his curls as she pressed kisses to his head. Finally, “I’m glad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I know it must have been hard for you to talk to them.”

He’d done good, then. Jack relaxed a microscopic bit. “Well, you’d said you wanted Ava to have more grandparents than Bethy, so . . . I have their number.”

Janet wasn’t going to be able to have normal relationships if she was living with him. He would always be there, just out of reach, and that would drive her crazy. He didn’t know why Charles’ nephew was there, what he had to do with Bruce or this whole situation. Who was Maria, and why couldn’t he remember someone so obviously important to him? He hated his father. His drunken, abusive father who yelled and screamed and hit and threw things and killed puppies when he was bad. He hated him. He hoped he was dead. He didn’t want to turn out like the man; he just wanted a place in society. He wanted people to not shy away from his scars. Fucking scars, the result of a mob job gone wrong in 2006. Where had he gotten his scars, people wanted to know? When he told them, he wasn’t being literal.

Bruce pulled him out of the car and handed him to Charles, then reached back in and helped Rachel out. Jack’s head swerved around to watch; she was pale, sweating with exertion from just standing up, her hand rubbing her stomach as she winced.

Jack was beside her, taking her in his arms and tilting her chin up. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you and Ava all right?”

She wasn’t meeting his gaze and he tilted his head to follow her eyes. “I just need to rest,” she whispered. “I’m just,” a wince, “tired.”

Bruce and Charles were looking too worried for that excuse. Jack shook his head as concern for his wife and daughter overshadowed his depression, and helped her up the porch steps and into the house. The couch was made up like a bed, and her latest book was resting on the coffee table.

“Rachel, tell me what’s wrong.”

She sat down and leaned her head back against the couch, closing her eyes as Jack sat next to her and fussed. “I’m just . . . Phillip wants me to rest more, is all.” He’d taken one look at her as she’d gone into the office today and ordered her to go back home; bed rest until further notice. “And . . .” If she didn’t word this carefully, Jack would flip out. “Practice.”

“Practice what?”

“For birth.“ Rachel opened her eyes and looked at him as he tried to figure out what she was saying. “They’re called Braxton-Hicks contractions, Jack, and they’re not real. They’re my body getting ready for real contractions. They’re normal; nothing’s wrong.”

He’d gone paler and placed his hands on her stomach like he thought he could hold Ava inside. Brown eyes filled with fear as Jack draped himself carefully, protectively, over her body. “But you’re all right? Ava’s all right? Do we need to go to the hospital? How much rest do you need? What do you want me to do?”

Maybe if he was worrying about her and Ava, he wouldn’t slip away from her. Rachel smiled at him and trailed her fingers down his cheek. He unconsciously leaned into the contact. “We’re fine, Jack. Phillip just wants me to rest at home for a while; he didn’t say how long. I’ll let you know when we need to go to the hospital.” She pulled him closer, making sure their eye contact wasn’t broken and they were touching as much as possible. “But I need you here, Jack. I need you, here, to take me when it’s time to go. Okay? You have to be the first to hold Ava when she’s born. Promise me, Jack. Promise me you’ll do that.”

He wanted to. He wanted to hold Ava after she was born; he’d dreamt about it --- him in those stupid green scrubs that hospitals made new fathers wear, with his hair under a little cap, Ava bundled in a tiny blanket as she slept, nestled securely against his chest . . . But he couldn’t make that promise. He didn’t know if Jack would be there.

“I promise,” Jack whispered. Anything to help Rachel.

Her fingers ran through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp. “You’ll be a good father, Jack,” she insisted gently. “You won’t be anything like the man who raised you. You’re better than him. We just need to get past this, and you’ll be fine. Ava’s going to adore you.”

Jack blinked tears out of his eyes and turned his attention to settling her on the couch. When he was done, Rachel was almost asleep, and he crouched down to kiss her lips and savour the taste.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for saving me.”

She murmured an “I love you” that he echoed, then left her under Charles’ supervision and went through the kitchen to Janet and Susie’s room, where he knocked on the door. The music that had been playing stopped and after a moment the door opened to reveal a haggard-looking Janet. Her eyes widened and she started blushing, but stood her ground. Jack looked down at his feet.

“Can we talk?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m fine.” She said it too quickly.

“Let’s talk,” Jack insisted. “Please.” Janet hesitated and he looked up at her. She sighed and eased out of the room. “Let’s go outside.” The dock would do. It was far enough away that no one could hear them, and she could push him into the ocean if she felt like it. He’d even be able to get back to shore. Once there, Jack leaned against one of the pillars and watched the girl. “Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t lie. I came on to you, you said no, I passed out. That’s what happened.”

“That’s not what happened, and you know it.” She did, too. She still wanted him. Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Why did you lie?”

“Because I’m not losing anyone else!” Janet suddenly screamed at him, the flush on her cheeks he’d taken for desire now one of rage. She was snarling at him, throwing her arms around in frustration. “I’m not losing Susie! I’m not going into foster care, damn it! I am not going to lose the only family I fucking have, Jack! If you want to come into my room every night after Susie crawls in with you and Rachel, you can do it! I’ll let you!” Now she was crying, punching his chest as hard as she could and Jack let her as the winter wind threw the ocean spray into their faces. “Do whatever you want to me, Jack, because I can not lose anything else. Oh, God, I just . . . I’m sorry! It was all my fault. If I, if I hadn’t had so much to drink, if I’d kept my hands to myself ---”

Now Jack grabbed her arms and shook her, something in him snapping. “My lack of control is not your fault, Janet!” The storm coming in was going to be a nasty one. Jack was yelling just to be heard over it, now. “You’re sixteen, Janet! I’m almost forty! I’m old enough to be your father! It doesn’t matter how much you drank or how much you begged or what you did with your hands! All that matters is that I didn’t tell you no! I didn’t move to the front seat, and I didn’t keep my hands off of you! You shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes, Janet!”

The girl was sobbing as rain started pelting them. She leaned into his grip and grabbed his wrists as she stared up at him. “Don’t send me away!” she begged over the storm. “Please let us stay! We need you, Jack! Please . . . Don’t abandon us!”

That one word hit him like a ton of bricks and he pulled the girl against him, wrapping her in his arms as they shivered in the rain. She sobbed into his chest. He’d begged someone like that, too, once upon a time. He’d begged to be allowed to stay, to be a part of a family, but the system had rolled right over him and he’d been packed off to another house, one with less laughter and more tears. He’d learned to not care after that. He wasn’t going to let that happen to Janet and Susie.

Finally Jack pulled away enough to cup Janet’s cheeks in his hands and look into her eyes. “You’re not leaving,” he said firmly, “and I’m not going to touch you. You don’t have to whore yourself out to stay, Janet. I don’t . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you.” She reached her own hands up to run them through his hair and for a moment he was terrified she was going to kiss him, but the girl simply closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest. Jack breathed a sigh of relief and then led her back to the house, where the boy --- Dick --- was waiting for them with two huge towels that were fresh out of the dryer. Jack bundled Janet up first, then shooed her into the bathroom in her room to take a hot shower before turning to the boy.

Jack was offered a hand. “I’m Dick.”

He took it. “Jack.” He kept staring until the boy blinked. “What happened?”

The boy gave him a sharp look. “Tom ---”

“To you.”

Blue eyes tightened at the corners. “What do you mean?”

“Charles never said she had a nephew.”

“You need your own shower, Jack ---”

“Where are your parents?” he pressed. “You can’t be much older than Janet.”

“I’m sixteen,” the boy admitted, “and my parents are dead. Charles and Bruce took me in.”

Jack’s lips twisted mirthlessly. “Well, aren’t we a group of placeless freaks?” he asked softly. “Which one are you?”

Again, the tightening of the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“That whole Justice Club thing. Which one are you?”

“I don’t know ---”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Dick,” Jack said tiredly. “Just tell me which one you are. I know Bruce and Charles are the Batsy Twins. Who are you?”

“. . . Robin.”

He sighed. “You look ridiculous in your Spandex,” was all he said as he trudged upstairs. He could hear soft singing, and his Mitzi-thing crying softly, and shivered in his warm towel as he stopped at the doorway of he and Rachel’s room. Helna was rocking her daughter as she sang some Hebrew song, trying to calm her down.

His Mitzi-thing kept crying, for Tom and for Jack, and then she looked over at the door and her eyes got big. Her wails increased in volume, but now she was reaching out for Jack.

“Ja-Ja! Ja-Ja! Mama, Ja-Ja! Up! Dada?”

Helna looked up and Jack took half a step back. Regardless of what Tom had said, it was his fault the man was in the hospital, and Helna had every right to hate him. The Mitzi-thing was struggling to be let go as her mother stared at him.

“Helna . . .”

She burst into fresh tears as she let her daughter go, and the girl-child toddled over to him as fast as she could, grabbing his pants and demanding to be picked up. Jack grabbed her just as she was about to fall onto her rump, lifting her easily and holding her close.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured as he sat next to Helna. His girl-thing clung to him and finally stopped crying, jabbering her toddler nonsense at him as she touched his wet face and hair and giggled. “I’m so sorry.” He slid his free hand around Helna’s shoulders and she leaned into him while she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you tell him where they were?” the woman asked. “Why didn’t you tell the FBI?”

Why had he almost gotten her husband killed? That was what she was really asking. “I didn’t know they were there for sure,” Jack murmured as the girl-thing kissed his nose and kept gabbing, content to be in his arms. “I told him to wait, Helna. I didn’t think he’d go out there alone. I . . . I was going to go with him when I got back. I know how they work,” he went on in anticipation of her next question. “They wouldn’t have hurt him as long as I was there, and they wouldn’t have tried to take me if he was there. I’m sorry.”

“I hate you,” the Jewess whispered. “I hate you so much . . . You’re soaking wet, Jack. You’re going to catch a cold.”

He pressed a kiss to his girl-thing’s forehead and gnashed his teeth to make her giggle. “I’m supposed to take a bath.”

“Then go, you moron,” Helna sniffled. “Mitzi, come to Mama. Jack has to take a bath.”

“Baff?” The child’s face lit up and she squirmed out of Jack’s arms, lifting her dress up and throwing it to the floor, running out of the room in her diaper. “Baff!” She ran back in, diaper-less, and pulled at Jack’s hand.

Jack stared at her, then looked helplessly at Helna. The woman couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t take a bath with him, Mitzi. Come here.”

The tiny face scrunched into a scowl and the baby tugged at Jack’s hand again. “No! Ja-Ja! Baff!”

“Mitzi ---”

“No!” The child started wailing.

Jack patted her head. “Uhm . . . I don’t care . . .”

Helna sighed. “You’re not going to fall asleep, are you?”

He shook his head. “Not if Mitzi’s in there with me.”

“Bubbles!” the thing demanded.

Helna watched him for a few more moments before nodding. “Fine, fine, go take a bath.”

“I mean,” Jack said, “you can sit with us, if you’re worried.”

Helna shook her head. “No, I need to check on Rachel.”

“Tell me the truth, Helna,” he whispered. “How bad is she?”

The woman frowned and pursed her lips. “She’s supposed to be on bed rest until further notice. Phillip wants to see her tomorrow to do a check-up, but he’s mostly concerned that she’s not getting enough rest. She’s been really stressed.”

“But if she rests more,” Jack pushed as they got up and went to the bathroom, “will she and Ava be all right?”

“Probably. I mean, resting will help a lot. Rachel’s . . . not young, in terms of childbearing. She needs to be more careful.” Helna watched as the tub filled, Mitzi already sitting in the water and laughing as Jack poured bubbles in for her. “You need to be more careful.”

“I’m trying,” Jack whispered. “When’s Tom getting released?”

“Next week. They beat him up pretty good, but the doctors are more worried about infection.”

“Jerk always did want to be more like me.”

She produced a laugh that was mingled with a sob. “I’m sure that’s what this is all about.”

Jack looked up at her and let her touch his scars. “They can fix the scars for him,” he whispered.

“I know. I don’t care what he looks like; I just want him home.”

Someone had cared what Jack had looked like. It was good that Rachel didn’t. He sighed as Helna left, then took his clothes off and rolled his eyes when the Mitzi-thing squealed and covered her eyes, giggling.

“What’s so funny?” he asked her as he slid into the tub and blew bubbles into her face.

“Pee-pee!” she cackled as she reached for him.

“Not yours!” Jack grabbed her hand and shook his finger at her. “Don’t touch!” She just giggled and splashed water at him. “I’ve had just about enough of women crawling all over me, thank you. Brat.”

She scrunched her lips and nose at him. “No brat! Ja-Ja brat!”

“You think so?” he asked as she crawled into his lap for a hug.

“Yes!”

“Well, maybe you’re right. I’m a brat. But you love me, don’t you?”

She blew a raspberry on his shoulder and howled with laughter. “Love Ja-Ja!”

Jack finally smiled as he tickled his girl-thing. “I love you, too, baby.”

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 24

2008-12-22T05:13:44Z

Oaky, oaky, this is SO FREAKING LATE (wtf? they put croutons on my salad! whatever) and I am SO FREAKING SORRY ABOUT IT. Also, I'm holding Ava for ransom since paisleydaze decided to be mean about my OCDness about comment numbers. vonnix already saved Jack by making our spiffy new banner. If you want Ava to live, make me either chapter icons for Sing, or a Joker/Rachel mood theme.

Also . . . well, you'll see.

Speak and Sing: speak_sing

“My, aren't you all Gothed out,” Jack remarked as he leaned in the doorway of Janet's guest room. She jumped and flushed as their eyes met in the mirror. Her own were smudged with kohl, making her look like she'd been punched and he told her so, which earned him a dirty look. Jack rolled his eyes as he walked to her and started wiping her face off. “Honey, let me fix your make-up,” he told her in a nasally whine. “Trust me, you'll look better my way. I put Rachel's make-up on all the time.”

“No wonder you're ugly,” Janet returned as she settled her fishnet glove-clad hands on her hips. “Her foundation just doesn't match your skin tone.”

That made Jack tilt his head back and howl with laughter for a moment. “I meant I put it on her, dumb-ass,” he said once he'd caught his breath. “Don't be a brat, or I'm leaving you here tonight.” Her eyes fluttered shut as he brought the eye shadow up and Jack licked his lips. Her own lips were parted slightly. It would be so easy to dip his head down, make contact with that sensitive flesh . . . He pulled back and cleared his throat as he applied her make-up quickly, ignoring the small, tight, and strategically torn top she was wearing, ignoring her green plaid skirt that he'd first mistaken for a belt.

“Are you all right?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he grunted back. “I'm fine.”

“I didn't really peg you for a nympho,” Janet went on. Jack blinked at her as she opened her eyes and she coughed delicately, placing one hand on his chest and pushing back. Jack looked down at her hand and only then realised that their hips were moulded together tightly; there was no way she was missing his erection and it brought a flush to his cheeks as he jerked away. “I mean, I can't be that attractive.”

“You're not,” he mumbled over his shoulder, leaning his forehead against the wall. “I just . . . have issues with sex.”

She was quiet from across the room. “Issues like what?”

Jack didn't want to discuss this with her, but the kid had the right to know, especially if he was going to adopt her and Susie. So he took a deep breath and didn't turn around as he started talking. “When I was in Arkham . . . when Harleen was my psychiatrist there . . . I needed something other than Batman to focus on, to obsess over. A healthier focus. She, uh, she wasn't . . . I suppose that what she did wasn't the most ethical thing, but . . . well, now sex is sort of stress relief for me. She was always available for me, pretty much. If we fought, she turned it into sex. If I was thinking about pussy, I wasn't concentrating too hard on killing people.” He swallowed. “And since Harleen made it clear that I didn't have a chance with anyone else, and then I was with Rachel . . . and with both of them, I was terrified of being thrown away . . . I never really learned to control myself. Not that I was good at self-control in the first place.”

Janet was quiet for a few seconds. “So . . . you were kissing on me because you can't keep it in your pants?”

“You throwing yourself at me didn't exactly help,” he snapped, then sighed. “All right, yeah, you've got a point. I've got some control issues, and I've been under a lot of stress lately. That makes it worse. I mean, a lot of stress. And I'm trying to control it, but you're so damned willing, and I've just . . .”

“Got a lot going on. I'm sorry, Jack.” Janet sounded like she was trying not to cry. “You're the first man that I'd ever liked, and you were so mysterious at first . . .”

“Classic bad boy. That's what Rachel calls me.”

“I didn't know,” she murmured. “I didn't . . . I didn't mean to make things worse.”

Jack laughed a little. “I know you didn't, doll. I know you didn't. And it's not your fault, and I don't want you to be so hung up on me that you're not, you know . . . being a kid. 'Cause you're still a kid. And you should be acting like one, not trying to be all grown up.”

“You're bad at these talks,” Janet said dryly.

“Well, I've got about sixteen years to get good at them, before I have to say all this to Ava.” He blinked at the wall. “Minus the whole kissing me thing.”

“All right, let me see if I get this. You've got self-control issues that I made worse, but aren't my fault, therefore I shouldn't feel guilty but I should be a little more sensitive. You also want me to stop trying to be an adult and enjoy my youth more. Is that right?”

“Your summarizing skills are excellent,” he confirmed with a nod. “Thanks.”

“Well, I can't guarantee that I'll always have good self-control, but I'll try not to jump you. Are we done? I don't wanna be late.”

Jack finally turned to look at her and shook his head. “You're a brat, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Janet smiled and he returned it.

“Okay, we're done. Oh,” Jack went on as they walked out of the room, “there's one other thing. It . . . might not be the time to bring it up.”

Janet stayed by his side and looked up at him. “Well, you've got me interested, so why not tell me now. Otherwise I'll bug about it because I hate not knowing things.”

“Well, then. Rachel brought it up, but . . . look, you and Susie can't stay in foster care forever.” Jack ran his fingers through his hair and stopped, turning to her. “And if Mary doesn't . . . well, look, if anything happens, Rachel and I want you and Susie to stay with us. For good.”

Janet blinked at him and the half-smile she'd had faded from her lips. Her lower lip started trembling a little as she stared at him and opened her mouth. “A, are you . . . you and Rachel, you want to . . . adopt us?”

With his hand shoved in his pockets, Jack looked at the floor as he rocked back on his heels and nodded. “Yeah. If you want.”

“And you're all right with this? I mean, you hate kids.”

“Yeah, well, you two kinda grew on me. And then there's the Mitzi-thing, and I've got Ava on the way . . . it's sort that whole, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em thing.” He pursed his lips and cleared his throat before swallowing sharply. “So . . . what'd'ya think?”

“What are the chances of Mom coming back?” Janet asked softly. Jack was quiet. She sniffed. “Ah . . . in that case . . .” She took a shuddering breath and Jack wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Thank you so much,” she whispered into his chest. “Thank you. I don't want to live with anyone else, and I can't lose Susie, too.”

Jack pulled back gently and coughed. He could smell her. “All right, c'mon, we'll be late.” He let her take his hand as they walked to the car outside, then handed her in. “How's uh, how's the shooting practice coming along?”

“Good,” she said quickly. It was obvious she was glad for the change of subject. “Good. Susie's great with the bow and arrows, too. Charles said . . . she said it might come in handy.” Big brown eyes looked at him earnestly and all Jack could think of was how they'd look from a much higher angle, her face pressed into his groin. He rubbed his eyes --- hard --- as she continued. “Are they going to try to take Rachel soon?”

“Sooner than later,” he mumbled. He pressed against the door and didn't care if she realised he was trying to get away from her while she fiddled with her skirt as it rode up her thighs. She was all smooth and firm and tender, a complete waste of virgin naivete as far as he was concerned. The thought of her and her little boyfriend, making out under the bleachers and afraid they'd be caught . . . Janet just wanted to feel, to belong, to be normal in spite of her abnormal circumstances, and the thought of some jerk-off boy touching her made Jack angry. He wanted to be her first fuck. Not Hayden. Not anyone. Him. Fuck, and he was willingly letting this temptation become his ward?

Well, he didn't have to adopt her. He might not even make it back. Probably --- hopefully --- wouldn't. She still wanted him. Hell, he could lean over right now and have her, lick her pussy until she screamed, until she was so weak that he had to carry her into the concert hall.

He got a sudden, sharp prod and opened his eyes. Janet kicked him again and this time dug her heel in a bit. “Whatever you're doing, stop. You're creeping me out.”

“Are you afraid?” he whispered from behind his hand.

“Does Rachel know you have such a big problem with keeping your . . . man-bits . . . to yourself?”

“Is that a threat?”

“This isn't the Question Game,” Janet snapped. He watched the rise and fall of her chest and while it could be contributed to anger or fear, the way her eyes fluttered said that it was desire.

So he shrugged. “She knows I like pussy.” The girl flinched at the word and blushed even as she stared him down. Oh, he wanted to make her squeal. It was Jack who shook his head and bit the inside of his lip until he bled. The pain washed over him, calmed him, and he cleared his throat. “All right, maybe she doesn't realise I've been having a little difficulty with it the past couple of months.”

“You might want to tell her. I mean, if you lost it and had an affair . . .” She trailed off with a deeper blush and looked out the window.

With her, maybe? He could bury his face between her --- “I've got it under control,” Jack said loudly. “Chill out.”

Janet gave him a look of such disbelieving disgust that he wondered if she practised it. “Not when you're looking at me like you're gonna do me in the limo! Get a grip, Jack!”

He slumped lower in the seat and lolled his head to the side, still covering his eyes with one hand. He moved his fingers just enough to stare at her. “You'd like it,” he whispered hoarsely, breathing deeply and rhythmically. Janet was losing some of her nerve and swallowed sharply while she licked her lips. He mimicked her out of reflex and she looked away. “You'd love it.”

“Dissociative disorder.”

That threw him. “Huh?”

“I've been reading about it. You black out sometimes, don't you?” Jack nodded once, warily. It was more a shifting of his head than an admission. Janet waved her hand in the air as she tried to gather the correct words. “You're . . . you're like two different people sometimes, especially recently. The Jack I know would run screaming if a girl wanted him to kiss her, right back to Rachel. But you just . . . go for it. You encourage it.”

“A lot's happened in eight months,” he muttered. She was fascinated by him, falling into that same damned claptrap that almost every woman fell into, of wanting to fix him, of being turned on by the thought of doing a psychopath. She was inexperienced enough to give in, too. He wondered what she thought about when she masturbated, but Jack shook his head again and pressed his cheek against the cool window.

“When's it going to stop?”

“Soon,” he whispered. His head hurt, damn it. All he wanted to do was bury his face between her legs and lose himself in that oblivion, lap it up and wallow. Jack's phone was out and pressed to his ear as it rang, as Janet crumpled her eyebrows together in concern.

“Hey, sweety. What's up?”

“Got a headache,” Jack whispered into the phone, Rachel's voice unwinding his tenseness. “We're on our way to the concert.”

“Already? I didn't realise it was so late. I popped in to the office to grab a file and got sidetracked.”

His heart flip-flopped. “Are you alone?”

“No, Helna's with me. Watch her, Helna, she's grabbing the --- oh, phew, just in time.” Jack's lips twitched as he imagined the toddler trying to grab everything and put it in her mouth. He had something that Janet could --- “Have you taken any aspirin?”

“For what?” Jack asked.

“Your headache? The one you called to get babied about?”

Jack smiled at that. “Naw, you're medicine enough, baby. How's Ava?”

“Quiet. Healthy,” she said quickly, obviously having heard his breath hitch in concern, “but quiet. She's probably sleeping right now.”

“Lazy.”

Jack's wife laughed as he glanced over at Janet, his gaze sliding up her legs and over the swell of her breasts. Jack blinked and looked away. “Not enough room,” Rachel corrected.

“Can I call you after the concert?” he asked quietly. “I uh, I need to tell you something private.” Janet was doing her level best to ignore Jack's blatant innuendo.

“Something private?” Rachel's voice rose in pleased surprise. Helna giggled in the background. “Whatever should I wear?” There was more laughter. Jack had loaned Tom a few of his books; apparently Helna had been pleased with the results. The woman said something about cockrings and Jack rolled his eyes.

“Tell her I've got one already.”

“My green scrunchy is not a cockring, Jack.”

“Makes a great one. I like it when you wear it the next day. I don't care what you wear, but make it good. Invite Helna and Tom over, put me on speaker phone, and we'll all make a night of it.”

“No group sex!” Rachel admonished. There was a whistle and Jack laughed. “Helna, stop encouraging him! Look, I need to get Helna home. Tom's working later than usual and she misses her vibrator.”

“Oh, well, as long as you tape it, I don't mind.”

“I'm not having sex with Helna. Shut up, Jack, I'm going, now. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he whispered. Helna was singing that Bad Touch song as Rachel hung up, laughing.

“Feel better?” Janet asked after a few moments of silence.

“Other than a raging hard-on brought on by my wife and her pervy friend, yes, I feel great,” Jack said brightly. Janet flushed and looked away again, which made him chuckle. “Too bad you're only sixteen; you have to miss out on the fun.”

“I don't want to hear this. Stop it.” She raised her hands to her ears and he was tempted to go on, but Jack stopped with another grin. “You're an asshole,” Janet muttered.

“Born and bred,” he agreed. “So, doc, tell me more about myself. That whole psychology thing.”

“I'm not your doctor. What are you doing?”

He looked up from the internet browser on his phone and grinned. “Ignoring your psycho-babble. Looks like Raped by Zombies is gonna sing some stuff from their new album tonight. A song called 'Glasgow Baby' and . . . in Metropolis they sang one called 'In the Trunk.'”

“'Glasgow Baby'?”

Jack shrugged and touched his scars. “It'd be ironic, wouldn't it?”

“To the extreme,” she responded dryly, sitting fully upright now that she was sure he wasn't going to maul her. “Look, all I know is what I've Wiki'd, all right? Just don't tell me the Joker was a split personality; that would be so lame.”

Jack's smile faded and he turned to the window. “The Joker's not a split personality,” he assured her in a low voice. Jack wanted to die and he wanted to scream with laughter. Neither happened as the limo pulled into the parking lot of the concert hall and stopped. The man had the presence of mind to wrap a scarf around his neck and mouth as the driver opened the door for them, and rested his hand between Janet's shoulder blades as they walked to the end of the line. “Lot of people for an underground band.”

Janet looked at him from the corners of her eyes, but the tenseness in her back eased when he didn't move his hand. “Ten fans don't get you famous,” was her reply.

“Right, it takes at least eleven.” He was still staring at her outfit, watching the way her striped thigh-high leggings clung to her . . . and were those garter straps? His eyes unfocused as his heart skipped a beat and his hands clenched into fists as they were shoved into his pockets. Fuck. Her chunky platforms brought her up to almost the perfect height for it, actually, and he wanted to drag her into an alley, push her against the wall, and see if he could make her pass out. Jack lowered his head and tapped his foot impatiently as they waited, looking everywhere but at Janet. She was too busy ogling at their surroundings to notice him much, anyway.

There was a minor hiccup when they presented their IDs to get into the concert hall. The man checking them paused when he saw Jack's and looked at him in surprise. Jack tugged his scarf down just enough to show the tops of his scars and smiled. The man looked down at his list, then reached under the podium he was sitting at and pulled out another list, his gaze flicking up to Jack every once in a while.

“Everything all right?” Jack asked casually. Janet was looking anxious.

“No, no, it's all right.” He glanced them over, but since they hadn't worn jackets and Janet wasn't carrying a purse, there was no need to search them. “Go on in.”

“Thanks, friend.” Jack led Janet inside. There was time enough before the show to get something to drink, so he headed to the bar. “What do you want?”

“I'm not old enough to drink. I thought they weren't going to let us in for a moment.”

He rolled his eyes and glared as the man behind them looked her up and down. “You can have soda or water, moron, and I don't know what was up with that, but we're in.”

“Oh.” Janet shifted as she leaned her elbows on the bar, her back arching sweetly, pulling her shirt up a bit and he wanted to run his tongue from the little dimples at the small of her back on up her spine, his breath making her shiver, wanted to curl himself over her back and kiss her neck as he fucked her. “Water's fine.”

“Huh?” Jack shook his head and rubbed at his temples as her words sank in. “Two waters,” he told the young man behind the bar. He had things under control. He was fine. Janet was safe with him. He wasn't going to hurt her. Her curvy legs weren't going around his waist, or his shoulders, and they weren't going to get much farther apart than they were now, as she waited for her water patiently, holding a streaked lock of hair between her fingers and looking at the different colours in it. She'd get breathless tonight only if she was dancing; Jack would have nothing to do with it.

“Are you cold?” she asked. “You're shivering.”

He rubbed his arms and looked toward the stage. “Maybe a little. It'll warm up when the concert starts.” He was under control. Nothing wrong. Control. He sipped his water when it was handed to him and closed his eyes as it slid down his throat. She was wearing vanilla perfume; he liked vanilla. Had she sprayed it on? Or dabbed a little behind her ears, on her wrists? The insides of her elbows? Rachel sometimes even dabbed a bit behind her knees. Where would the scent be strongest on her?

Of course, Rachel put perfume on her ankles and behind her knees, at the small of her back, just to send Jack on a scent scavenger hunt, enjoying the way he snuffled at her skin, nipping and kissing as he went. Janet wasn't --- she didn't know him well enough to do that. Didn't know he liked searching for the next sweet blossom on his lover's body. She wouldn't have done that, just girlishly spritzed herself with whatever cheap perfume Clarie's or Hot Topic had been selling that week.

That thought grounded him and he hadn't even realised he'd been assuming she was trying to seduce him. Maybe he wasn't as in control as he'd thought.

Jack glanced at Janet out of the corner of his eye as he raised his right hand and slid it up his left sleeve, digging his nails into his skin and dragging them down. The pain was sharp enough to cut through the mud in his brain and bring him a little more clarity. He'd have to call Rachel as soon as they got back to the mansion. He was slipping faster than he'd thought he would and he didn't like it, didn't want it to happen like this. Janet didn't need to bear the brunt of his increasing instability, his inability to keep himself under tight control. She was just a kid, for fuck's sake.

But so eager to be a woman. Eager for him to make her a woman. Oh, the fun they could have together, and thank you, Harley, for channelling all his anger and pain into sex, thank you so much, dear departed Harley, you were good for that one thing, at least ---

Jack dug his nails into his skin again and felt blood pool beneath his fingers. His mouth quivered at the pain and he closed his eyes against it. And now, now he was doing things to deal with himself that he hadn't done since Maria . . . he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to remember any of this. He didn't want the sex and pain and death to start blending together again. All Jack wanted was to hold his wife and baby girl and know that they were safe, from him and from the world.

Janet tugged on his arm and he jerked his head down at her, still floating on the pain in his arm. “Come on, let's get a good spot.”

The hall was mostly a huge empty space with the stage at one end and on the other end, seating areas on two levels. The bar stretched halfway along the wall opposite the door. Everything was painted black, which made sense. Didn't want colours distracting from the band, after all. Jack let himself be dragged toward the front, staring at the curve of Janet's neck and how her pigtails bounced against it, playing peek-a-boo with her skin. He bit his lip. Hard. More people pressed in on all sides of them and Janet leaned close to him to keep from being separated.

“You okay?” she asked when she felt him tense up. She knew he only liked to be this close to people when it was on his own terms.

“I'm fine.” It was the truth, surprisingly. He could feel the energy building in the room, fed off of it as he closed his eyes to slits and swayed a bit with the crowd.

The lights dimmed suddenly and in the hot darkness the gathered crowd went wild. Janet squealed next to him and bounced up and down, clinging to his arm as the drum beat started, low and primal. A violin joined in, soaring above and around the pounding of the drums and then a spotlight slowly lit up the figure in frills and leather in the centre of the stage. Her dark blonde hair was down around her shoulders as she started plucking at her guitar, swaying close to her microphone and breathing her low alto voice into it. She started speaking in rhythm, a low and steady rap, letting the music fill her voice.

“Her polished nails twirl matches. Her bare feet kick the ground. My lady sits there smiling, even when she frowns. . . . Find me a lover, who I can kiss from cheek to cheek, and I'll give you another reason that your knees are weak. . . . Her polished nails break flesh, her painted lips are smeared. My lady’s striking smile contradicts her tears.” She flipped her hair behind her and broke into the chorus, which made Jack choke even as he laughed. “There's my lady, Glasgow baby, sitting on her porch with her Chelsea grin! Cutting for another mile, that Joker sports a sexy smile, makes you worth my time. Let's light you up another, gotta keep on running while we're in. Our. Prime.”

Oh, the irony of it was delicious. That his favourite band would have a song all about him, mention him by name! Jack and Janet looked at each other as they laughed; it was really too much. They didn't pay too much attention to the lyrics that followed until the song was almost over.

“I’ll go and find me a lover, who I can kiss from cheek to cheek. . . . I promise you, beautiful, I’ll have myself another Glasgow baby . . . by the end of the week . . .”

It segued right into another song, one that screamed sex; Elizabeth Tess and one of the men in the band sang it together, their voices low and intimate. Once Jack got past the heavy beat and their panting voices, he was once more in stitches when he realised it was about rainbow smoothies and being sexed by vampires. Raped by Zombies certainly had a way of misleading their audience. He didn't think Janet had figured the lyrics out yet because she wasn't laughing, just swaying to the music and his mouth dried as he watched her hips. She knew exactly how to move to any beat --- of course she did. She was a student of his, after all. But all he'd really done was help her hone a natural sense of rhythm.

She was getting a bit of male attention for it, too. Her own damn fault, what with that short outfit and skirt that made him glad she was wearing full-butt (if sparkly) panties. He eased behind her and pulled her back a bit, making it clear to the man looking at her that she was property of another.

“Take me with ease from my feet to my knees, I will please no one else but myself . . . You are the life-force, the lover and saviour. I offer my soul as the prize. Your cool lips corrupt with a kiss of desire, that would burn with the fire of delight. Take me and save me, I love you, I hate you, a taste then another another another . . . Stretch and taste sweeter each time that you meet her, she's reckless and gives as she takes . . .”

Janet blinked up at him long enough to verify that it was Jack who was holding her, then gave in to the music once more. She wasn't trying to tease him, but as he'd previously noted, her heels put her at the perfect height for it and Jack ground his teeth as he held her shoulders tightly.

“. . . I would have more I would drink more I would eat more I would take more I would love more. I'll live more I would give more I would use more, so much more, so much very much more . . .”

He was trembling again and Janet covered his hands with her own, resting her head against his shoulder as she sang along with the one cover song Raped by Zombies had done. It was deliciously repetitive, the beat and rhythm pulling at him, letting him lose himself in it. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but so long as Janet didn't more much more than she was, Jack figured he'd be fine. It was a good thing that Rachel hadn't come with him like he'd wanted her to. There were too many people in too confined a space; as far along as she was, she wouldn't have enjoyed herself at all.

After the concert was over, Jack turned around to see a brown-haired man in a security shirt standing behind him. He raised an eyebrow, noting that the man didn't flinch when his gaze passed over Jack's scars. Janet had pulled his scarf off at one point, wrapping it around her own neck.

“Jack Dawes?”

“Know of any other guy with these scars?”

The man nodded slightly. “Come with me, please. And the lady.”

Jack tensed slightly as his eyes narrowed. “I don't think we've done anything wrong.”

“You haven't,” the man said. “I'm taking you backstage. If you've noticed, Miss Tess is a bit of a fan of yours.”

Now Jack was amused and slid his arm around Janet's shoulders. “So, what, she wants an autograph?”

“Your babies, actually, but she'll settle for meeting you.” the roll of his eyes and the expression on the man's face said that maybe he knew Elizabeth Tess personally. “Unless you're busy?”

He was still in a good place, feeling almost like he had a nice buzz. “No, not at all. Wanna meet Elizabeth Tess, Janet?”

“You have to ask?!” she exclaimed. Her brown eyes were huge with excitement.

“Guess not. All right,” he told the security guard, “lead on.”

They were lead backstage and through a door to what was apparently a dressing room. The guard rapped on the open door lightly. “Hollyn? Don't you dare freak out.”

“Oh my God! He's here! He's here!” She came running out of another door and Jack's first impression was that she was a lot shorter than he'd expected. Her big blue eyes, looking almost like veined ice, were also as striking as they were in all the photos he'd seen of her --- no feat of Photoshop, those gems. But . . .

“You're so short,” he blurted out as she skidded to a halt in front of him.

Those beautiful eyes got bigger. “Is that bad? I'm five-five! Well, almost. Near enough! I can put on heels if you want. Oh my God, the Joker's in my dressing room! Can I hug you? Will you marry me?!”

Her exuberance made Jack laugh and he slid an arm around her shoulder, his ego sufficiently stroked to put his own nerves about meeting Elizabeth at ease. “Not bad at all, peaches, and sure, I'll hug you.” He oofed a little when she squeezed him as tightly as she could, squealing a bit. “It's uh, it's Jack, by the way. Joker hasn't been around for . . . about twelve years. Give or take. And I'm already married.”

“Darn it! I don't care!” She grinned up at him, then looked at Janet. “. . . Hi. Who are you?”

“My foster daughter,” Jack said as Janet recoiled a bit. He hugged her against him. “This is Janet.”

Elizabeth looked her over, then looked at Jack, then turned a brilliant smile on Janet. “Hi! I'm Hollyn. Only my family and friends call me that, but you can, too. Jason! Get us something to drink! Here, have a seat!”

“I'm not your maid,” the security guard said as he leaned in the doorway.

“Do it anyway! I'll tell Dad! Jason's my older brother,” she told Jack and Janet as she sat them down, sitting as close to Jack as possible without being in his lap. “I recruited him for security while Henry's sick. My sister's back at the hotel; she whined that the latest album's too emo for her. And my other brothers aren't here; losers think their jobs are more important than my concert. Psh!”

She'd entered full-on starry-eyed fangirl mode and Jack encouraged it with his smiles and interested looks, completely amused at the cult following the Joker had during his absence from society. Hollyn was full of questions, wanting to know all about Rachel and the new baby (promising to write a song about it), proclaiming her jealousy that Janet and Susie got to see Jack every day. Jason brought them drinks and she mixed them eagerly while he watched.

“What do you want? Rum? Brandy?”

“Janet's not old enough to drink, and Rachel doesn't like it when I do . . . but some Jack and Coke, if you have it.”

Hollyn grinned at Janet. “I'll make you my sister's drink. It's coconut rum with pineapple juice and grenadine; you can't taste the alcohol. Come on, it's all good!”

“I tried to name Ava after you,” Jack said, just to watch Hollyn flip over it. “But Rachel liked Ava Mirelle more.”

“Oh my God, you did?! I love you!” This time Hollyn did end up in his lap, and she covered his face with kisses as he laughed at her. Jason cleared his throat and she guiltly slid back onto the couch, her legs still over Jack's. “Sorry. I'm a little excited. I've wanted to meet you for forever! Did you like Glasgow Baby?”

“Yeah, it was good. I mean, I haven't heard a song of yours that I didn't like.” The other band members had gone back to the hotel after a cursory introduction; they hadn't been rude about it, but it was obvious that Hollyn carried the brunt of the obsession with Jack and the Joker.

“Awesome! Oh, I wish I could have met Rachel . . .”

“She's probably sleeping right now, but I'll tell her you said hi.”

“Do that!” She was bouncing now, a small bundle of energy. “This is so awesome. Want more?” She mixed them both another drink without waiting for a reply and turned the conversation back to Jack's time as the Joker.

He answered her as honestly as he felt like, depending on what she wanted to know. Even Janet was interested, cradling her fourth drink as she and Hollyn listened with fascination to his version of burning up sixty-eight million dollars.

“I kinda wish now that I'd saved some of it. Rachel and I would certainly never have to work again, and Ava's college tuition would be paid for.” Jack shrugged as he watched Janet's eyes glaze over contentedly. She was rocking side to side a bit, too, which meant the alcohol was making her dizzy and she liked the feeling. “I think it's past Janet's bedtime.”

“Do you have to go?” Hollyn whined. Jason cleared his throat again as he deliberately started picking up the bottles of alcohol, then she covered her mouth as she yawned. “Do I have to get up in the morning?”

“If you want to make it to Toledo on time, yeah.”

A muscle in Jack's eye twitched as he turned to Janet and gathered her in his arms. They all said goodbye, then he was settling Janet into the limo and closing the door on a teary-eyed Hollyn, who was promising that he'd get in to any concert of hers for free.

Janet had laid down once he'd let her go to close the door, and as he settled by her she turned and buried her head in his lap, looking up at him and humming lazily as she smiled. He hadn't really been paying much attention to how much she'd had to drink, and apparently she hadn't, either. That was the problem, he felt, with drinks that one couldn't taste the alcohol in. One drank them like water, or juice, and got trashed before one knew it.

“You're pretty,” she giggled as she reached up to tug at his curls. “I want curly hair . . .”

“You're drunk,” he said in a teasing voice as he fingers trailed against his cheek.

“I'm . . . no . . . yeah . . .” She trailed off, her eyes unfocusing again, then giggled. “I'd have babies with you . . .”

That made Jack laugh and he took her wandering hand to press a kiss to it. “I know you would.”

Janet's eyes widened. “Am I that obvious? Did I throw myself at you? I didn't want you to know . . .”

“No, you weren't obvious, and no, you didn't throw yourself at me. It's all right.” He shifted, trying to be subtle about moving her head lower so she wouldn't feel his hard-on against the back of it, and sighed as he lay his own head against the back of the seat. “It's all right.”

But she'd scrambled up and was leaning in to him, her face dangerously close as he watched her from partially-closed eyes. “You don't hate me?”

“I don't hate you.” He was whispering. Janet laughed and snuggled up to him, aiming a kiss at his cheek but landing it on his ear instead. Jack shuddered and his arm wrapped itself around her shoulders of its own accord.

“You're funny,” she giggled again, and kissed his ear once more, laughing as he shivered.

“Yeah, but looks aren't everything.” Jack was still whispering as he tilted his head to the side, and Janet's neck shiver-inducing kiss landed just below his ear. His fingers curled against her shoulder and fiddled with the bra strap he could feel under her shirt, and, encouraged in her clouded daze, Janet kissed his neck again as she rested one hand on his chest. Jack held very, very still. If he didn't do anything else, she might get bored and leave him alone. Too bad his other hand was now on her hip, pressing gently toward himself. He'd trained his students well and Janet moved with the slight pressure, straddling his own hips as she moved her kisses along his neck. Jack had the presence of mind to move his hands underneath her thighs and keep her from settling on him fully. He knew what feeling his erection against her did to a very horny Rachel, and wasn't ready to let that happen to a very inexperienced (not to mention intoxicated) Janet.

“I'm sorry,” Janet murmured between kisses, moving her lips to the base of his throat and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. He was torn between wishing she was drunk enough to not know that what was happening was wrong and glad she wasn't. “Jack . . .”

She was far enough down his legs, almost to his knees, that Jack felt he could let her thighs go. He didn't want to, though. He tried to make his release of them quick but he knew his fingers lingered, pressing into her skin, because she gasped and trembled, wiggling a bit in the hopes of feeling his hands on her again. Her thighs clenched and unclenched a little and Jack knew what she was doing there, and he had to grab her upper arms to keep from finding out how wet she was. When she'd gotten his shirt unbuttoned and spread open across his chest, Jack thought for one instant that Janet was going to slip between his legs and keep kissing downwards, but even as his entire body stiffened in anticipation she moved back up, finally pressing their mouths together.

He loved the taste of her mouth as she slid her tongue against his, and wondered how she tasted between a different pair of lips. He bet she tasted fabulous. Then again, Jack could eat a woman out pretty much all day and not get tired of it, so he figured he was a bit biased in that regard. Janet's hands were curling in his hair and he grabbed her thighs again, pulling her against him. She moaned with the contact and arched her back, pressing her hips down and against his while he kissed down her own throat, biting gently, pleased when her gasp told him she liked it. His hands slipped up her thighs and pulled her tiny skirt higher, out of the way, and her stomach jumped when he ran her fingers over it. They moved higher until they cupped her breasts, already larger than Rachel's, and Jack squeezed gently as he moved his face down to nuzzle them. Her shirt didn't even cover the top of her lacy black bra, which didn't even cover the tops of her breasts, and Jack slid his tongue along the edges of the lace before dipping it underneath, his lips and tongue working until he'd gotten her nipple free where he could suck on it easily. Janet was making a lot more noise, so he reached over blindly and started the music player, drowning out her cries of pleasure as she thrust against him harder. Jack rolled his eyes up to watch her face as he moved to her other nipple, pinching the first one gently as he tongued her. Her breasts were so much more sensitive than Rachel's and she was watching him even as her eyes tried to roll back in her head, and he laughed against her skin. He'd never been this intimate with a virgin, that he could recall. It was so much fun.

He got tired of her inexperienced movements against him after a while. They didn't provide enough stimulation, and he was a man who liked a lot of stimulation. Verbal, visual, physical, mental . . . Jack slid down until he could roll them both over so that Janet was sitting on the seat and he was kneeling between her legs, pulling them up around his hips and taking a moment to adjust both of them so that he could comfortably rub against her. For her part, Janet clung to him and pulled his face up again, her kiss desperate. Jack was getting desperate, too, as he wrapped his arms around her back. He needed Janet to come as quickly as possible, because every minute she didn't brought him closer to ripping away the psychological barrier that her pretty panties represented and violating her. Jack wasn't a complete fool. He knew full well that he would go to jail if this incident got out, if Janet decided he'd assaulted her and told anyone. If he put any part of himself inside of her, he'd go to jail. He'd be there for the rest of his life and he'd be a registered sex offender, never allowed to see his baby girl, never allowed to hold her, or watch her grow up . . .

If Jack had had anywhere to run to, he would have stopped right then and fled. But in a moving limousine, there was no place to hide. He was stuck and he was damned already, so his best course of action was to ride it out what a bad pun, even for him and get it over with as quickly as possible.

“Fuck,” Jack snarled against Janet's breast. He pushed her back and watched himself thrust against her for a moment, then took her hand and put it over her panties. She looked at him in confusion. “Don't you masturbate?” he whispered harshly, panting.

“But I want you to ---”

“No” Her eyes widened and she sniffed a bit, so Jack leaned forward to cover her face with comforting kisses. “No,” he said in a softer voice. “No, baby, I want to to watch you do it. I like watching.”

She turned redder, if that was possible, and smiled shyly as Jack leaned back again with a smile of his own. She pressed her fingers over her panties for a few moments before sliding them underneath, her eyes fluttering closed and her mouth opening in a small gasp as the slender digits found their way between her sensitive lips and to her clit. She arched her hips up into her own touch and Jack took up his thrusting once again, but more gently this time, just enough to keep himself hard --- not that that was a problem, not when he was watching Janet pleasure herself. She moved the hand on his shoulder to her own breast, which fascinated him. Rachel got too distracted by that sort of double stimulation; she needed to either be fingering herself or touching her breasts. That Janet could do both made Jack dizzy.

He frowned a bit when Janet took her hand out of her panties and pushed at his stomach, but when he moved back even more she went right back to work, and his eyes bugged out as he watched her slide a couple of fingers inside of herself. Damn girl knew how to get herself off. He loved it and he told her so, but wasn't sure she'd heard him. She was whispering his name, though, lost in some fantasy as she whispered his name.

Jack couldn't stand it any more and leaned forward again, covering her fingers with his and pressing against her. He ghosted his lips over hers as she whimpered and moved her fingers back to her clit and he felt in need of a fucking medal for not replacing them with his own. He did press into her as much as her panties would allow, sucking on her nipple hard as he grunted with each thrust of his hips against her and his hand.

Janet suddenly threw her head back, her body going almost completely limp before tensing up again, clenching around the tips of his fingers, and she squeaked rhythmically as she finally came. She fucking squeaked. Jack couldn't help but laugh at the tiny, high-pitched bursts coming from that glorious mouth, pulling back to watch the look of abandon on her pretty little face until her orgasm subsided. Then he was holding her, wrapping his arms around her back and waist and nuzzling her neck lovingly.

“Oh, God, Jack . . . I love you,” she whispered as she stopped shaking. “I love you so much . . .”

“I know, baby,” he whispered back. He stroked her hair and kissed her gently before taking her hand and licking it clean. He'd been right; she did taste fabulous. It made him groan and shudder. “I'm so sorry, baby . . .” He hoped she didn't say a word about this, not even to her closest friends, not even to that fucking diary she wrote in all the time. He didn't want to get in trouble. He didn't want to be kept away from his baby girl. He didn't want Rachel to leave him and take Ava away. He needed his family. He needed them. “I'm so sorry . . .”

But Janet was almost asleep as he gently fixed her clothing and cracked the window, forcibly reminded of Rachel's birthday four years previously. Maybe she'd feel regret once she woke up. Maybe she wouldn't. There wasn't anything Jack could do about it now. He settled her on the seat and sat next to her, bringing his knees up to his chest and holding them there as he fought off the urge to climb on top of her. She was on the verge of passing out, for fuck's sake. He wasn't that much of a monster.

His phone buzzing brought him back to reality after a minute or so and he took it out of his pocket, where it had been on vibrate, and raised his eyebrows as he rubbed his eyes. No, there were twenty missed calls, the most recent from Rachel. What the fuck? He hit '2' for her speed-dial and was assaulted on the second ring.

“Jack Dawes! Where the fuck have you been?! We've been calling you since eleven! Why haven't you picked up your fucking phone?!”

Rachel never swore. Something had gone terribly wrong. Jack's stomach clenched as he tried to think through the lust-induced fog in his brain. “Baby? It was on vibrate. What's ---”

She was beyond furious and he reeled back a bit. “Don't you dare ask me what's wrong, Jack! You get your ass back to Bruce's and on that fucking plane home right now! Are you paying attention! This is all your fault, Jack! Why the fuck I didn't make you talk with the FBI is beyond me!”

“Rachel!” Jack said loudly. She finally shut up. “Stop yelling at me, damn it! What the hell happened? Are you and the girls all right?”

“Oh, we're just fine,” she snapped acidly. “But you just had to send tom on a little recon mission, didn't you?! You just couldn't go to the authorities with what you knew, and now Tom's in the ICU at Metropolis General! I hope you're fucking happy, Jack! Your goddamn friend might die because of you!”

That made Jack go cold and want to puke. “I didn't send him anywhere,” he managed to get out. The limo was reeling around him and he tried not to black out. “I told him to wait. What happened?”

But Rachel had burst into tears and there was a shuffling before a man's voice came on the phone. “Jack Dawes?”

“Who the fuck are you, and where the fuck is my wife?” Jack snapped, suddenly furious that Rachel wasn't on the phone.

“Detective Daniels, Mr. Dawes. You remember me.” His voice was cold.

Jack snarled as he hit the floor with his fist. “Yeah, I remember you. Give me to Rachel.”

“She doesn't want to talk to you.” Indeed, Jack could hear his normally level-headed wife screaming obscenities at him in the background. “Lieutenant Fine was dumped in front of the Loleta hospital around ten forty-five tonight. You apparently gave him information on the killer that you neglected to pass on to us,” and his voice said he in no way believed Jack had just forgotten, “and he went to check out the address you gave him. He seems to have been ambushed, slashed, and dumped.”

Jack stared at the tinted window as he digested this information. Fuck. Now Tom was out of the picture. The limo crawled to a stop and the door was yanked open immediately, Bruce pulling him out as Alfred leaned in for Janet.

“Withholding evidence is a felony, Dawes,” Daniels continued.

“It wasn't evidence. I didn't know for sure they were there, and what would have happened if the FBI had been seen sneaking around? They've split, haven't they? Yeah, I bet they're long gone and if Tom had waited like I'd told him to wait, he wouldn't be where he is now. Give me my wife.”

“I won't be your wife for long!” Rachel screamed out. Fucking speaker phone. “You better have somewhere else to sleep for the time being, you sick bastard!”

She didn't really mean that. Jack found himself surprisingly calm --- almost numb, in fact. He and Janet were loaded on the plane along with Bruce and Alfred, as well as some boy Jack had never seen before.

“Uncle Charles is with Mrs. Dawes, right?” he asked.

Bruce nodded. “She's meeting us at the airport, Dick.” Everyone was glaring at Jack, except for Janet, who was dead to the world.

“You'll be under house arrest when you get here,” Daniels was saying.

“My wife just kicked me out of the house,” Jack replied.

“Chief Johnson and his wife have agreed to let you stay with them.”

He was going to fuck that bitch over. He was going to cut her heart --- no, he was going to cut her pussy out, her whorish pussy, and shove it down her throat. “Fine by me,” he whispered into the phone. “Gotta go; we're taking off.” He hung up and turned his phone off, staring up at the roof of the plane. He ignored everyone until they set down in Loleta and then he only looked at the small group gathered to meet them in order to find Rachel, but she wasn't there. For the first time since they'd met, Rachel wasn't waiting for him. It hit Jack hard and he didn't look at Jeff or Veronica as he was handed over to them.

Veronica took his elbow to get him in the car and his eyes slid over to her, and he leaned down. “I'm going to fuck you tonight,” he whispered in her ear. “Bet Jeff's not gonna be home until dawn.”

She shivered. “Shut up.” But she liked the thought; bitch still thought he might leave Rachel for her, thought that if Rachel left, he'd take her as a substitute. It would never happen. Let her dream. He needed a knife. Didn't have to be big, just sharp enough to leave a clean cut with little effort. His skin ached for it. Fucking, cutting . . . both provided him with a release from stress, and between his tryst with Janet and this sudden shit, Jack was a man in need of some serious stress relief.

“I want to see my wife,” was the only thing he said during the ride to the Johnson's house.

“She doesn't want to see you,” Jeff said coldly. “Will you be all right alone with him, Veronica?”

“I'll be fine,” she said shortly.

And she would be. Sore, maybe, but he wasn't going to kill her. He needed to fuck her. He needed a warm, willing set of holes to lose himself in. He wanted to have Rachel, but even if she hadn't been mad at him, he wasn't sure he could be gentle with her. So that left the whore in the front seat. Tomorrow he was going to track down Maury and Anita and butcher them. They wanted the Joker? They were about to get him, consequences be damned.

As soon as he'd been shown the guest room and Tom had left, Jack sprinted to the kitchen and started rummaging desperately, finally finding a knife that he could use. Veronica was in the doorway with her mouth open to ask a question, but he ignored whatever she was saying and grabbed her arm, dragging her up the stairs and throwing her into the room before kicking the door shut.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped from the bed. “This wasn't my fucking fault!”

“I know,” he mumbled. He'd put the knife between his teeth as he pulled at his clothes, then tore at hers.

“Hey! Stop it, damn it!” Veronica fought back, hitting and scratching at him and Jack groaned, pressing into her nails before taking the knife from his mouth and pushing her down, holding it by her ear as he kissed her.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Just fuck me. You want to. Do it.”

Veronica was wide-eyed as he rolled off of her and on to his back, watching her hungrily. Lust won out over caution and she finished taking her clothes off, crawling over him and covering his mouth with her own. She slid his fingers between her thighs until she was ready, then let out a sigh of relief when she finally settled on top of him and started rocking against him. She was watching the knife warily as he raised it, but Jack ignored her. He pressed the sharp edge against his shoulder and hissed as it broke skin, the sweet euphoria making him buck his hips up. Veronica gasped and decided that he wasn't a danger to her, giving herself over to riding him. Jack moved the blade to a new spot and made another cut, then another, and another, until his shoulders and chest were covered with paper-cut-sized wounds. He lost control and came when Veronica leaned forward to lick at the wounds gently, crying out as he grabbed her head and held her there.

She was still sucking at him when he finally passed out from exhaustion.

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 23

2008-12-14T07:00:08Z

Previous chapters & Sing: speak_sing

“Are we allowed to be here?” Janet whispered, twisting her hands together nervously as she huddled against Jack's side. She was beautiful in a deep red gown that brought out the highlights that had appeared in her hair during the day. The gown was cut low enough to give her a sense of maturity, but high enough to still cover her modestly. It went to her ankles, adding a nice touch of elegance, and the golden heels were just high enough to bring the top of her head to Jack's nose. Her jewellery was also gold, set with rubies, and her hair was back in a French twist with the ends curled.

“Of course we are; B owns the place,” Jack assured her. The red of his vest and tie matched her dress and he nodded in approval. “You look great.”

She blushed as he held her chair out for her. “Thanks. Ms. Monroe and her employees were very nice to me.”

“That's because B was paying them a lot.”

“Thanks for dinner, by the way,” Raoul said as he kicked Jack under the table. “I'm sure all of us appreciate it.”

“Rachel wants me to bring her back that cream baklava,” Jack told Bruce. “And I can't go back without it. The woman's crazy.”

“Just like you,” Bruce said easily as the waitress started pouring them all wine.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Jack said as he wagged his finger at the man. “Ahead of the curve.”

Janet's eyes got big when the waitress picked her glass up. “Oh, I'm ---”

“It's all right,” Bruce assured her. “You can have a little wine.”

“Hey, I'll drink what you don't; wine just makes me sleepy, anyway.” Jack took a sip from his glass and then nodded in approval. “It's good.”

“Better than the trailer park wine you usually get?”

“Boxed wine's just as good as this crap,” Jack returned, winking at Janet. “Hell of a lot cheaper, too.”

“Watch it,” Bruce said as he jabbed his fork at the other man, “or you're buying Rachel her next bit of jewellery.”

“I can do that. See, it turns out I'm still on Charles' payroll, and it's direct-deposit. I was so used to not having my own bank account that I completely forgot they'd transferred Harleen's to me. I've got plenty of money.”

“What about your bills, after Harleen died?” Raoul asked.

“That's what Rachel was for; she took care of most of my expenses, and it wasn't until we moved that I was given complete access to the bank account, anyway.” He grinned. “I take care of her, she takes care of me. It works.”

“I didn't think silk hankies counted as taking care of her,” Raoul teased, then he looked at Janet and went a little pale. Janet took a serene sip of her wine as all three men started talking at once, trying to explain the comment away. Then she made a nasty face and coughed, quickly setting her glass down in disgust.

“I uh, I know about Jack and Rachel's, ah . . . play times,” she said when they'd paused to catch their breaths.

Bruce turned a glare on Jack, who held his hands up in self-defence. “Hey, I didn't say a thing!”

“Rachel told me,” Janet said. She was blushing, but holding together admirably well. “I mean, she didn't give me specifics, but . . . uhm . . .”

“When did this happen?” Jack wanted to know.

“Couple of weeks ago. I was helping her clean the house, and uhm, I dropped a box . . .”

“When I was over at Tom's? Bah, I told her I'd help when I got home . . .” Jack rolled his eyes in disgust, but didn't seem particularly upset or even embarrassed that he and Rachel's secret was out. “Well, you and Hayden can't borrow anything, so don't ask.”

“Jack! She's only sixteen!” Bruce protested.

“Doesn't mean she can't have sex. With someone her own age.”

“But I told you, I told him my legs are sealed for the time being. Welded together, in fact. He wasn't happy about it.” Janet shrugged. “I told him that my mom's missing, I've been put in foster care --- even if it is with people I like, and in town to boot --- and that this just isn't a good time for anything, really. So . . . yeah, we're not seeing each other any more.” She looked down at the table, obviously hurt by the situation.

“I told you he's an idiot,” Jack said after a moment. “People should listen to me more.” Then he reached out and covered Janet's gloved hand with his own, squeezing gently. “You're too good to waste on him, anyway.” Janet ducked her head and smiled up at Jack through her lashes as the pink flush across her cheeks deepened.

. . . that's where i'll hold you, sleeping like a child . . .

He shook his head once, sharply, and turned the conversation to the next night's concert. It provided sufficient distraction for the woman-child in red to stop being so alluringly untouched, gave Jack enough of a breather to get his aching head on straight for the rest of dinner. He needed no reminder that he was back in Gotham, but he did have to concentrate on his behaviour, on keeping a low profile. He didn't need the media hysteria that would come about if someone recognised him and flipped about the Joker being back in town. Really, after fourteen years it oughtn't be something to freak out over, but still . . . Sometimes it paid to keep a low profile.

And sometimes one got noticed no matter what. Jack was reminded of that when Janet started glancing to the side every few minutes, and finally leaned toward him. “Uhm, do you know those two?” she whispered. “The man with the, uhm, the Jewish . . . thing . . . on his head?”

“Yamaka,” Jack responded automatically as he nabbed the last piece of bread before Bruce could. He took his time spreading butter --- real butter, damn it, not that fake crap Rachel insisted on --- over it, then turned just enough to see the older couple two tables down. He dropped his bread on the floor and turned back to the table, almost knocking his wine glass over as his entire body went cold. “Shit,” he whispered. He was staring down at his hands as they gripped the tablecloth tightly, almost hyperventilating as panic struck him. “Shit. Shit.”

“What's wrong? Who are they?” Janet was frightened --- of course she was. Her mother was missing, presumed dead, and the person who had taken her was trying to kill Jack, who wasn't afraid of anything. Except, maybe, the elderly Jewish couple behind him.

“Do you need to get some air?” Bruce asked with concern. “They're not trouble, are they?”

Jack was breathing shallowly through his mouth and shook his head quickly. “No --- I just --- it's not --- those are Harleen's folks.” And here he was, with Rachel nowhere in sight, with another woman . . .

“Oh.” Bruce offered Jack some water and watched him down it frantically. “Should we skip dessert?”

“No, I'm --- I just . . . I wasn't expecting them.”

“Well, here they come,” Raoul murmured, giving Jack just enough time to hunch his shoulders before Rabbi Quinzel spoke.

“Hello, Jack.”

He flinched like he'd been hit, looking like he was trying to melt into the floor. “Uh . . . hi.” He kept his eyes on the table, his hands gripping the edges until they were white.

“We haven't . . . seen you in a while.”

The older man got a shrug. “Yeah, uh, I moved. Upstate.”

“So we heard. And . . . Rachel, is it?” Jack nodded, short and jerky movements. “How is she?”

“Uh . . . fine. She's not here.” He winced, realising how stupid he sounded, and attempted to grow a backbone as he straightened and finally looked up at his former in-laws. “She'd have come down with us, but the doctor didn't want her travelling. A couple friends are staying with her.”

“I hope she's all right,” Harleen's mother said with a frown.

Jack shrugged. He really didn't want them knowing that he and Rachel were living the life that he and their daughter had never had the chance to live. “Yeah, she's fine, it's just a precaution. She's uhm . . . well, we're . . . So, this is Bruce Wayne, and Raoul Gillespie. And uh, Janet Mills. Uh, this is Abraham Quinzel, and uh, Marni Quinzel. They're uhm, they're Harleen's parents,” he explained again. “My uhm, my first wife.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Bruce said with a smile. “Care to sit down?”

The Quinzels looked down at Jack as Janet touched his hand gently. He shrugged. “Uh, yeah, have a seat. B owns the place, it's all good. If you want to.”

It took a few tense minutes before the Quinzels were seated with them, and Abraham cleared his throat as he finally sat. “What brings you to town?”

“Uh, a concert. Rachel made me go. Uhm. The tickets were an anniversary gift, but she can't come, but Janet likes the band, so . . .” Jack cleared his throat. “Uh, Janet's my uhm, I mean, Rachel and I are . . .”

“Jack and Rachel are my foster parents for the time being,” Janet finally spoke up. “My mom's . . . she's . . .” She cleared her throat, as well, but went on bravely. “My mom went missing almost a month ago. Jack and Rachel took me and my sister in until she's found.”

That made the older couple pause for a moment. Obviously, Jack in any sort of position of responsibility where children were concerned had never occurred to them. Unless it was to give them nightmares, maybe. Marni cleared her throat after a moment.

“I'm so sorry to hear that, dear. I hope everything turns out all right. And Rachel, you said she's ill?”

Jack sighed and covered his eyes with one hand. “She's pregnant,” he finally admitted. He peeked out at the two from between his fingers. They were staring at him in shock. “Yeah, we got knocked up,” he coughed. “Uh, it's a girl, her name's Ava Mirelle, she's due January ninth.” He shut up, not wanting to look at Harleen's parents. They'd lost her daughter to a psychopath, then lost her for good when she'd died; they'd never gotten the chance to be grandparents. They'd never been able to hold a grandbaby. Harleen had always been . . . not against children, per se, but it had never been the 'right time,' according to her. The terrified look on Jack's face whenever the subject had been brought up had probably played a big role in that, too.

“Congratulations,” was Abraham's quiet yet sincere response a few moments later.

“Thanks,” he murmured. Then he cleared his throat as he dropped his hand to his pocket, where his wallet and pictures rested. “I'm uh, I'm sorry I haven't been in contact ---”

“Why should you have been?” Abraham asked. “We shunned you after you married Harleen, and after she died, you had no reason to talk to us. If anything, I'm sorry that Marni and I didn't check in on you. Whether we liked it or not, you were our son-in-law, and we should have stepped up and supported you.” He pursed his lips before taking a sip of wine.

“Look, I understand now and I understood then,” Jack argued. “It didn't bother me. I mean, I'm glad you don't hate me, but you don't have to make yourselves uncomfortable over it. I already had more people there for me than I knew what to do with.” His phone buzzed and he grabbed it out of his pocket, glad for the distraction. It was a video message from Rachel and he frowned as he flipped the phone open and waited for it to download. “Sorry; it's from Rachel . . .”

The video started with the camera pointing at Rachel's bare stomach. Susie or Charles must have been holding it, then. “Are you ready?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah!” Susie's voice replied. The camera shook a little. “Daddy's gonna love this!”

Jack wasn't sure who she was talking about, but Rachel laughed. “All right, Jack, see this? Ava's awake, but she's not moving. Watch this.”

He frowned when Rachel's voice started again; he'd been making recordings of himself talking to Ava, so the baby could hear his voice when he wasn't around, and this was a recording that Rachel had spoken in, too. They were reading a story. Rachel's hand curled around her stomach and rubbed gently as Susie giggled, then Jack started speaking. Rachel's stomach contorted almost immediately as Ava started moving around. Jack's eyebrows went up.

As soon as his voice stopped, Ava stopped moving. “Wait, there's more,” Rachel murmured. Her voice continued the story, but Ava stayed still until Jack spoke again, at which point she started moving once more. The camera angled up to Rachel's beaming face after a moment. “She knows your voice, sweety. Isn't that amazing? Ava loves her Daddy and misses you. The video's almost done; call us!” It froze on her smile and Jack stared at it for a while, a huge grin creeping across his features.

“What was that?” Bruce wanted to know.

Jack looked up quickly, then back at the frozen image. “Ava knows my voice,” he murmured. “Uhm . . . Rachel and I, we've been recording stories and stuff, so she can play them back to Ava while she's at work. Apparently they were listening to one and Ava started moving when she heard me.” Jack wasn't shrieking with laughter. He wanted to, though. He wanted to leap up and laugh and dance because his little girl already knew his voice, knew who he was. He did start chuckling, but since no one gave him strange looks, it obviously wasn't too overboard. “Wanna watch?” Then he looked at the Quinzels and swallowed sharply, not knowing if they'd be offended, or jealous, or . . . something. He didn't know how people reacted to things like this.

To his vague surprise, though, the Quinzels leaned forward with interest. That removed any lingering reservations about showing his wife and baby off, so Jack started the video again and turned it so they all could see. He was grinning the whole time.

“I don't know who Susie was calling Daddy,” he said after the video had finished.

Janet laughed. “Who's the only man Susie wants to be her father?” she asked. “Think hard.”

He gave her a scrunched-up look. “I keep telling her, I'm not her dad.”

“But you are,” Abraham said. “This is your sister, yes?” Janet nodded. “You're her foster father, then, which makes you her father.”

“But I'm not really ---”

“To a child that young, you are.” Marni was smiling. “Are you okay with baby supplies? Clothes, diapers, bedding . . .?”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. Rachel goes on a shopping spree about once a week, and some friends of ours have a baby girl, so they've given us some stuff. Oh, here, this is the Mitzi-thing.” He pulled up some pictures of Mitzi that he'd snapped and passed the phone around. “Isn't it ugly?”

“If by ugly, you mean absolutely adorable,” Marni remarked. “Then yes, she's hideous.”

Jack grinned again. “So, her first words went 'da-da,' 'ma-ma,' and 'Ja-Ja.' Kid loves me. I'm teaching it to be a criminal mastermind and take over a small country.”

“As you can see,” Janet offered, “Jack hates kids.”

“Of course I do. Minions aren't kids, though. Quiet, minion,” he ordered when she opened her mouth again. The conversation drifted for a while after that, with only a few moments of awkwardness for Jack and the Quinzels.

Once dinner was finished and they were pulling their coats on in the lobby, Abraham pulled Jack to the side and cleared his throat. “Jack, Marni and I . . . we're glad that you're doing so well.” He held his hand up to keep Jack silent. “I want you to know that we don't hate you, we don't blame you for Harleen's death, and we're not upset that you and Rachel are starting a family. Please don't worry about any of that.”

Jack's lips twisted as he scratched the back of his head. “Was it that obvious?”

Abraham's eyes crinkled even more as he smiled. “Just a little. If you need anything, please let us know. I know we have no business being a part of your life, but . . . we'd like to be. I know Harleen would want us to.”

Jack looked at him for a long moment before he smiled slightly. “Thank you. I'll talk with Rachel; I think she'd like that.” Let them substitute Rachel and Ava for Harleen and the grandchild they'd never gotten. It would be good for everyone.

“Thank you. Here's our number if you ever need anything.” He handed Jack a slip of paper and the younger man took it with a nod. “Have a good weekend, Jack.”

“I will. You, too.” Abraham smiled and went back to his wife, who was also smiling at Jack as he returned to his own group. He threw his jacket over Janet's shoulders as she shivered and hugged her close. “We ready to go? I'm tired.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?” Bruce wanted to know as his limo finally pulled up to the curb.

“I'm fine,” Jack replied. He handed Janet in, then settled next to her and tugged at her hair. “Rachel's gonna ground you for dyeing your hair without permission.”

“Grow up,” he was told, which prompted laughter from everyone. “I'm only being nice to you so you'll take me to this concert, you know.”

“Naw, you love me, you know you do.” Janet flushed and looked away with a snort, which made Jack grin broadly. Even smooching on Hayden hadn't diminished her crush on him. Hot damn, he was a stud. That made Jack start laughing as he took his phone out to watch Rachel's video again.

~

“--- so, they want us to call them,” he finished later, laying on his stomach on the bed in the guest room Bruce had given him. Strangely, it was quite a ways away from Janet's.

“Are you okay with it?” Rachel wanted to know.

“Actually, yeah. I mean, they never got grandkids, y'know? I'm not . . . I don't just feel sorry for them. I mean . . . oh, hell, look, they'll enjoy it, Ava will get more grandparents . . . yeah, I'm good with it. If you are, I mean. I suppose it'd be a little odd to have the parents of your husband's dead first wife hanging around . . .”

“No, I think it's a great idea,” she assured him. “I've been feeling bad because we only have Mom . . . I'm just stuck on kids needing more than one grandparent, I guess.”

“It's traditional,” Jack reasoned. He was plucking at the blankets and sighed. “Hell, what do I know. My folks are probably dead, and good riddance to my sperm donor.”

Rachel was quiet for a while, and when she spoke, it was soft. “What about your mother?”

He rolled his eyes as his chest clenched minutely. “I told you, I don't know. She split really early on and didn't bother taking me. If the woman's still alive, I really don't want to know.”

“Maybe she didn't have a choice,” Rachel offered gently.

“A choice? Not to take her kid out of a potentially deadly situation? What would you do, Rachel?”

“I don't know the circumstances. But I'd do my best to get Ava away from someone who was hurting us. And maybe she tried.”

Jack scoffed. “Right. She tried really hard, I can tell. I don't wanna talk about this, popsicle. I really don't. Why's Susie calling me Daddy?”

“Because you're her foster father. She was so excited when she figured it out today.” Rachel next silence was hesitant and probing.

Jack sighed. “What do you want?”

“Well . . . if Mary's not found, if she dies . . . these girls aren't going to have anyone, Jack. Them staying with us is only temporary, and they'll be shuffled through the foster system as wards of the state until they're eighteen. I don't want to put them through that, not when we can take care of them, love them . . . because you do love them, Jack, and you know it.”

Jack was quiet as he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He thought he knew, but . . . “So what do you want to do?”

Rachel was quiet for a moment, too. “If Mary dies, I'd like to . . . if you want to . . . adopt them. I mean, we'll need to talk this over more when you get home, but . . . just off the top of your head, what do you think?”

His eyes closed and he took deep, even breaths as he thought about it. More links back, certainly, that's what planning to adopt his girls would be. And Mary was most certainly not making it back alive. And even though he complained about it all the time, Jack liked it when Susie called him Daddy. It flew in the face of what was telling him he'd be a terrible father, that no one would ever love him or want to be near him. It gave him hope that Ava would love him that much, too.

“Jack? Are you there?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Just thinking.”

“And?”

“. . . if they need a home, we'll keep them. I don't mind.”

“I love you, Jack,” Rachel whispered.

“See? That's why I do these things, for the affection.” He turned on his side with a smile. “And . . .”

“Yes?”

“When you got back from California . . . you stopped me from giving you my answer, but . . . it was yes.” She took in a shaky breath and sniffed, which made Jack want to hold her tightly. He squeezed a pillow, instead.

“Jack . . . I . . .” Rachel was crying, now, but he knew they were happy tears.

“Probably should have told you anyway, but I'm an admitted moron. And . . . I was more upset that I hadn't been able to tell you yes before you got pregnant. That's what made me so mad for so long. Hey, are you okay? Baby?”

“I'm fine,” she whispered. “I love you so much, Jack. Ava's never going to know how lucky she is to have a father like you.”

“Oh, she will, the first time she needs me to scare some pesky boy away for her.” That made Rachel laugh and Jack chuckled along with her. “Uh, you want me to talk with Janet? Run the whole adoption thing by her, see how she'd feel about it?”

“You don't want to talk about it more?”

“If it comes down to us or the foster system, they're staying with us,” he said firmly.

“Okay. Talk with her if you want.” Then she yawned.

“Get some sleep,” Jack said. “Lemme talk to Ava.” He waited while Rachel laughed, then put the phone to her stomach. “Hey, sweety, it's Daddy. You're being good, right? I miss you, but I'll be home soon. Good night, precious.”

“She heard you,” Rachel said a few moments later. “She kicked a bit.”

Jack grinned. “Good. Have a good night, Rachel.”

“You, too. I love you.” They hung up a moment later, and Jack snuggled under the covers with a huge smile on his face.

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 22

2008-12-07T23:53:05Z

Title: Sing
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: Sequel to Speak; after nearly two years of marriage, Rachel's ready for kids, while Jack is less than enthusiastic about the idea. Additionally, someone's been kidnapping and murdering women in the area, leaving them with Glasgow smiles, and the police have come to Jack for help.
Previous chapters and Speak: speak_sing
Note: Cookies if you can point out the part I wrote while I was drunk.

“You're sure? . . . Okay. . . . Yeah. . . . Okay. Thanks.” Jack set his phone down and stared at the address he'd scrawled on the pad of paper, then tore the top three sheets off, tucked the address into his pocket, and threw the other sheets away. His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the table as he took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. Then he picked his phone up again and dialled. “Hey, Tom. Write this address down. . . . No, I don't want you to send anyone out there yet. . . . Because they'll fuck it up, that's why. . . . Shut up and listen, pig. I've got people tracking their movements; should have a definite plan in a week or so. . . . Yeah, I know she doesn't have that long. You want --- no, I know that.” He sighed and leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead. “Look, Mary was dead the moment they took her, all right? I couldn't have helped her even if I'd told the cops everything I knew or suspected from the start. They're psychotic, Tom, not stupid.” His friend wasn't yelling, just talking in a very, very low voice and Jack sighed again. “I'm sorry, too. Just don't do anything stupid, all right? Wait until I tell you --- because I know them, Tom, I know how they work. They're predictable. . . . Fine. Talk to you later.” He hung up and then sealed the plastic baggie that was laying on the table, sticking it in the back of the freezer. It held a picture of his and Rachel's wedding day in it; he'd need it later.

Janet poked her head in and he turned to her with a smile. “You all packed? Mr. Wayne's plane should be here in half an hour.”

“Yeah, it's all in the car already. Excited?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Front-row seats to Raped by Zombies, and a stay in Wayne Manor itself? Hell yes, I'm excited!”

“Watch your language,” he told her with roll of his eyes.

“You're not the boss of me.”

“I'll tell Rachel.”

Janet laughed. “What's she gonna do? Ground me?”

He shrugged and brushed past her. “She grounds me all the time.”

“I'm not as whipped as you are.”

“No, she's the one who gets whipped.”

Janet had been following him up the stairs, but her footsteps stopped. “Excuse me?!”

Jack paused and turned an innocent look on her. “Yeeeees?”

She had a confused and disbelieving look on her face. “What did you just say?”

He shrugged and turned back to the stairs. “Hell if I know. Rachel! You ready?”

“Two minutes!” she called back. “Can't fit in my damned shoes!”

“Wear your slippers, baby.”

She grumbled something about not coordinating as Jack turned around, raising an eyebrow at Janet and the look on her face. “What?”

“Did you . . . never mind. I don't want to know.”

“Probably not. Hey, Charles!”

“Yes, every thing's ready,” she replied as the stove timer went off. “You're behaving yourself this weekend?”

“Can't get up to much trouble at Wayne's.”

“Go put your bags in the car, Janet. You know what I'm talking about,” Charles said softly after the girl had left.

Jack looked out the window and shrugged. “I know what you're talking about, and I'm not going to touch her. I'm feeling a lot better than I was. Look, call me if anything happens, all right? I'd rather not leave right now, but Rachel threatened to tell everyone I like Pokemon if I didn't.”

“You are such a pushover, sometimes.”

A shrug. “Comes with the territory.”

He was getting a knowing smirk. “And you're feeling a little guilty, maybe?”

“Not really. Haven't seen Veronica in a while, and she hasn't come sniffing around. I uh, I think I scared her.” He grinned at that as Rachel stomped down the stairs in her green dinosaur slippers. “Told you the slippers would fit best.”

“Well, I can't wear them to work, now, can I?” She stiffened when Jack hugged her, so he let her go. “Are you and Janet ready?”

“She's putting her bags in the car. Yeah, we're ready.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned down until he was at eye-level with Rachel, eyebrows raised as he smiled expectantly.

“What?” Rachel asked shortly. “What do you want?”

He sighed a little. “Well . . . I am about to leave for the weekend . . .”

Rachel rolled her eyes as she brushed past him. “I'll kiss you goodbye at the airport.”

His shoulders slumped as he followed her. “My wife doesn't love me any more . . .”

Rachel turned to give him a dirty look. “Oh, don't start that crap with me, Jack.”

“Like you didn't do the exact same thing for the first, what, four months you were pregnant?” he complained as they got to the car.

“Stop it, you two,” Charles cut them off. “Jack, leave her alone.”

“What did I do wrong now?” Jack got in the back seat with Janet and almost slammed the door shut, then rested his elbow on the arm rest and propped his chin in his hand as he stared out the window. “I wish you weren't knocked up,” he muttered.

“Well, maybe you'll get lucky, and I'll fall down some stairs tomorrow,” Rachel countered acidly from the front seat.

“Shut up, you two! Jack, Rachel loves you. Rachel, Jack doesn't really wish you weren't pregnant. I've seen Susie have more mature arguments than the ones you two have been in lately.”

“What are you going to do this weekend?” Jack asked.

“Relax,” was the answer. “Get pampered.”

“I pamper you.”

“I meant a pedicure, manicure . . . maybe get my hair done . . .” She flipped her visor down to look at him in the mirror. “So I'll look pretty when we go to class on Monday.”

Jack was quiet for a moment before he looked over at Janet. “Is it me, or does that woman not realise how gorgeous she is?”

“I think you're very pretty, Rachel,” Janet replied. She'd been a little uncomfortable around him since Rachel's birthday; he'd have to talk with her about that on the plane.

His wife rolled her eyes. “I'm so ready for this baby to be born. Ten weeks, two days . . .”

“Only ten weeks?” Jack squeaked. His eyes were wide and his heart started pounding. Ten weeks, then he'd have to hold Ava, and change her diapers, and feed her?

“Actually, thirty-seven weeks is considered full term.” Was it just him, or was Rachel enjoying his sudden panic attack? “So maybe seven weeks. Who knows?”

“Aren't you supposed to know?”

“It's not like I get a weekly memo from her, Jack. 'Okay, Mom, at thirty-seven weeks and two days, at four in the morning, I'm coming out.' It doesn't work like that.”

Jack shook his head and rolled his eyes, ignoring Rachel until they'd reached the airport. Bruce's private plane was there, but the only passenger who got off was Hideki, there to keep Rachel company for the weekend. It took a good fifteen minutes for his initial excitement over Ava and Rachel to wear off.

With Janet at the top of the stairs to the plane and Jack at the bottom, he shuffled his feet and looked at Rachel through his eyelashes. On anyone else it would have looked coy, alluring. On Jack it just looked sullen.

“Weeeell,” he drawled. Rachel's sigh was almost disgusted as she hugged him, but Jack pulled away. “Don't kiss me if you don't really want to.”

“I don't know what your problem's been lately, Jack, but give me a damned kiss goodbye,” she whispered. “This is what you do when someone you love goes away for a day or more, even if you're mad at them. You let them know that you still love them. I thought you knew this by now.”

“Bad memory,” he murmured, pulling her close, angling her body against his so he could hug her better, tilting her chin up to press kisses to her lips. “Oh, Saint Teresa, higher than the moon . . .”

Rachel wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed their cheeks together with a smile. “Every stone a story, like a rosary . . . God, I love your taste in music, Jack.”

“You never know what I'm into next,” he murmured in her ear, sighing as he ran his hands over her stomach. “How's my baby?”

“Fine, when her daddy's not sulking.”

“She's not going to be fine very often,” Jack laughed. “I sulk a lot. More blowjobs would help.”

“Yeah, I'll think about that one.” Rachel held his cheeks in her palms and kissed him again, then pushed gently against his chest. “Go on. Have fun.”

“You sure you can't come with?” Jack asked again.

She shook her head. “I'm sorry, Jack. Doctor Howard said it wasn't a good idea. But we're not in trouble,” was the hurried addition when Jack's brow puckered in concern. “It's just a little precaution. Now go on, sweety. I love you.”

“Me, too,” Jack muttered. Rachel just smiled. She always knew what he meant. He hoped, as he climbed the stairs to the plane and turned to look at her one last time, that Ava would also know what he meant . . . provided he was there to imply it. He shook off those thoughts as he settled onto the couch, watching Janet look around in amazement. “There's usually a stewardess or someone, but I guess you and I don't rank that high on Wayne's approval list.”

Now she looked unsure and sat across from him her legs wrapped around his waist as he knelt in front of her as the plane took off, biting her lower lip as she moaned, slender hands grasping at his shoulders and leaving welts in their wake and Jack shook his head sharply. Those were thoughts that were entirely not needed, ever. They held no purpose. They didn't fit like he fit, pressing into her as she gasped in his ear, fingers curling in his hair at the base of his neck, naughty words falling from her sweet lips and he didn't need them agent of chaos that he was or their particular brand of insanity not crazy

Jack stared at someone in the bathroom mirror and it took a few blinks and tilts of their heads for him to realise that it was his own reflection he was trying to menace, at which point he relaxed and didn't bother trying to remember how he'd gotten there. The tap was running and his face was wet; he must have been splashing it with water.

. . . reach down for the sweet stuff, way she looks at me . . . i know any man . . . sees you like i see . . .

“As they saw that you forgot to tell me,” he whispered, staring into his own brown eyes and not recognizing the man staring back. He turned and slid down the wall, rubbing his face and shying away from his scars for a moment before exploring them inside and out, like he'd never felt them before.

A soft knock brought him out of his stupor some time later. “Jack? Are you all right?”

No, it wasn't her skin he was remembering beneath his lips. He'd never know more of her taste past what he'd had that once.

. . . way down in the hollow, leavin' so soon . . . oh, saint teresa, higher than the moon . . .

“I'm fine,” he said after he'd cleared his throat is there something you forgot to tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me . . . “Just give me a moment.”

. . . show me, my teresa, feel it rise in me . . . every stone a story, like a rosary . . .

“The plane's going to land soon.” She didn't sound like he'd done anything to her; she didn't even sound concerned. He wasn't sure what he'd told her but it had obviously worked, and now all he needed was to get up --- good, push yourself up --- and wipe himself off --- not too hard, don't leave a mark --- and opened the door to Janet's tilted head and amber-flecked brown eyes.

. . . she down on the corner, just a little crime . . . when i make my money, got to get my dime . . . she bold as a street light . . . dark and sweet as hash . . .

“Uhm, hey. Sorry about that.”

“About what? Using the bathroom? Oh no, Jack, how could you?” Janet rolled her eyes and Jack gave her a gentle smack upside the head.

“Shut up.” He flopped back into his seat and stared at her. “Hey, you know . . . Rachel's birthday . . . that was a really dumb thing I did.” She pursed her lips and flushed, not meeting his eyes. “I just, uhm . . . wanted you to know.”

“Yeah, married men kissing other women's generally stupid. And kissing minors. But hey, Rachel always says you've got a severe lack of common sense.” She was trying to make light of the situation and Jack snorted.

“I've got plenty of common sense. I just ignore it in favour of whatever's the most fun at the moment.” There was a moment of slightly awkward silence, then Janet laughed a little.

“Well, if it helps, I told Hayden to keep his hands to himself until he learned to kiss better. And . . . thank you. I mean, yeah, it was a dumb thing to do, but . . .” Janet blushed again and looked at him from under her eyelashes as she shrugged. “It . . . helped.”

A few moments of silence passed as the plane descended, and when the pilot came out of the cockpit, Jack and Janet were howling with laughter. Bruce watched them from the edge of his private landing pad with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, B! Why so glum? Still pissed that I knocked Rachel up?” Jack settled his arm around Janet's shoulder and pulled her close as he explained. “Not that he had a chance, but Brucey boy here had the hots for Rachel. Still hates that I got her.”

“And I'm still not sure how that happened,” Bruce put in. “You did try to kill her, after all.”

“Hey, boy meets girl, boy throws girl out window, boy kidnaps girl and wires her to explosives. That's true love. How could she not want me after all that?”

“You tried to kill Rachel?!” Janet exclaimed. Her eyes bugged out even more than they had when she'd been told she'd be a guest at Wayne Manor for the weekend. “How did she not kill you for that?”

Jack was laughing as he shook Alfred's hand. “I gave her a decade to cool off. How'd she even get loose, anyway? She's never told me. Not that I've asked.”

“Gordon's men were barely quick enough,” Bruce replied as he gave Janet a winning smile. “There was some confusion over which hospital she went to, also, which was why we all thought she was dead.”

“Well, I'll have to thank Gordon when I see him,” Jack said. “Would you believe me that I'm sorry?”

Bruce looked over his shoulder as they entered the mansion. “Yes,” he said simply.

~

“Janet, this is Sally Monroe,” Bruce said, kissing the tall brunette on both cheeks. “Sally, this is Janet Mills. We're going out tonight; she's yours for the afternoon.”

Jack had no clue who the woman was, other than a beautician or something that Bruce kept on retainer, but Janet obviously did. As Monroe took Janet by the elbow and started looking her over with pursed lips, Bruce gave her an encouraging nod.

“Sally will take good care of you, Janet. Jack and I will be back in a couple of hours, all right?”

“I have to stop by the police department and let Raoul know his man got there safe,” Jack put in. “You'll be fine, Janet.” She was looking nervous, but let them leave without a fuss, flattered to be having so much attention heaped upon her by Monroe and her cronies.

“Will she be all right?”

“Small town girl thrust into the arms of Gotham's elite beauty squad?” Jack scoffed. “She'll be fine. Janet's tougher than she lets on. Plus it's all girly crap, anyway, and she loves that shit.”

Bruce laughed. “Raoul, next?”

“Yep.” Once at the police department, Jack breezed through the doors and headed straight for Raoul's desk. “Hey, he got there just fine.”

The younger man looked up, his phone to his ear, and placed the tips of his fingers on his chin briefly before pulling his hand down in an arc to mid-chest. Then he held his finger up in a 'wait' gesture.

“What'd he just do?” Jack asked Bruce as he stepped back and looked around.

“Sign language for 'thank you,' idiot. I already invited him to dinner tonight. Let's let him work.”

“What did you do now?”

Jack turned to Gordon with a grin. “Knocked Rachel up; Bruce is still pissed about it. What's up, Commissioner Awesome?”

The older man rubbed at his eyes with a snort. “Congratulations. When's she due?”

“January ninth. It's a girl, and we're naming her Ava Mirelle.”

“She make you memorise that?”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, after the third time I told someone to piss off because it wasn't any of their business. Here, she makes me carry a picture.” He dug his wallet out and pulled out the most recent picture of Rachel as well as the most recent ultrasound. “She was twenty-eight weeks here, and seven months in the ultrasound.”

Gordon was grinning as he looked the pictures over. It matched Jack's grin. “She's beautiful; you must be proud.”

“Yeah, well, Ava's my little accident. Rachel would have come down this weekend, but the doctor didn't want her travelling, so Hideki's babysitting.” He took the pictures back and put them away. “Hey, lemme talk at you for a bit.” Gordon pulled him into an empty office and took the piece of paper Jack handed him. “I'm pretty sure that's where they are. I've let Tom know, and he's not supposed to do anything yet. I don't trust the FBI to not screw this up. I need to make sure that's the right place, too.”

The grins were gone and Gordon was at the computer, punching in the address. “You've got names?”

“Maury Moskowitz, or Maureen, and Anita Bentley. Raoul's been looking into it for me.”

“I know,” the older man murmured. “That's why Hideki and Charles are up there with Rachel?”

“Yeah. If they nab her while I'm in Gotham, it'd make getting me to cooperate easier. Oh, here, by the way.” He pulled a thumb drive out of his pants pocket and tossed it on the desk. “A lot of it's probably out of date, but it's everything I could remember about the mob. Fuckers think they can screw around with me and get away with it.”

“Thank you. They're getting desperate; the Justice League's cracking down pretty hard, these days. It might help with older cases; new evidence is almost always useful. And . . . you're not going to, ah . . .”

“Innocent people aren't going to die,” Jack told him. “I can't guarantee anything else.”

Gordon nodded. “But you'll warn us, right?”

Jack was staring at the picture of Rachel, holding her stomach as she leaned against the porch railing. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah.”

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 21

2008-11-29T11:01:35Z

Title: Sing
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: Sequel to Speak; after nearly two years of marriage, Rachel's ready for kids, while Jack is less than enthusiastic about the idea. Additionally, someone's been kidnapping and murdering women in the area, leaving them with Glasgow smiles, and the police have come to Jack for help.
Previous chapters and Speak: speak_sing

He'd been rubbing his scars all afternoon. Rachel finally reached out and covered his hand, and Jack looked at her in surprise. He'd been absent-minded the past few days, and she was worried.

“Are you all right, Jack?”

“Uh?” He dug his fingers into his left cheek, tugging at the scar tissue. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

Rachel frowned. “You're not fine, Jack. What's wrong?”

“My . . . face just itches. That's all.”

“How are your headaches?”

Jack slammed his fist onto the table. “Damn it, Rachel, I said I'm fine!” She jumped and so did Ava, kicking out in surprise. She hadn't expected him to react so angrily. “Would you get off my back about this?”

“Don't yell at me, Jack, I'm just worried about you.” Rachel put her hands on his shoulders but he shoved them off with a growl. Ava kicked again and turned over, and Rachel rubbed her stomach soothingly. “You startled Ava.”

His daughter moving normally distracted Jack, but this time he just held his head in his hands and snorted. “She'll get over it. Just shut up about my headaches, all right? They're no big deal.”

Rachel sat across from Jack, the cold pit in her stomach getting just a little bigger. “Why are you lying to me, Jack?” she asked softly.

He rolled his eyes up to look at her darkly. “I'm not lying.”

“Yes, you are. You're lying about your headaches, you're lying about who you go see at night . . .” She was trying not to cry, hoping that she was wrong, that it was just her being over-sensitive. Jack wasn't used to being around so many people all the time, after all, and she barely had any energy at all these days to devote to him.

“I come back, don't I?” he muttered.

Rachel covered her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. “That's not the point,” she whispered. “Who are you going to see?” He wasn't seeing someone else. He couldn't be. No matter how much stress Jack was under, he'd never cross that line.

He was quiet for a long time. Finally, “7440 Club.”

“What?”

“The 7440 Club,” Jack repeated a little too loudly. “That's where I go at night.”

“Why?” Rachel asked. She couldn't believe that he'd rather be in a dingy bar than with her.

“'Cause I can drink and get into a fight there. What, you'd rather I stay home and yell at you and the girls?”

“No, I wouldn't. I just . . . why couldn't you just tell me that's where you were?”

“'Cause you don't like it when I drink,” he mumbled. “And I don't have to talk to people there.”

Rachel's shoulders slumped with relief. She'd just been a bit hysterical, was all, jumping to conclusions like that. She looked down at the table, feeling terrible about letting herself think he might be having an affair. “Well . . . why don't I have Charles take the girls to a movie? We could have a couple quiet hours to ourselves . . .”

Jack didn't say anything for another moment, and when he spoke it was with forced lightness. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds great.”

“Good.” Rachel pushed herself up and went outside, where Charles was teaching Janet how to fire a gun. Ava jumped with every pop and Rachel rubbed her stomach, feeling the kicks and punches against her hands. “It's okay, sweety. Daddy's not doing anything wrong; he's just stressed, is all. Daddy loves us both. Mommy just over-reacted. Charles!”

The former Marine looked up and tapped Janet on the shoulder before pulling her earmuffs off. Janet flicked the safety on, lowered the weapon, and took the magazine out before taking her own earmuffs off.

“What's up?”

Rachel rubbed her arms. October in Loleta was chilly. “Uhm, would you mind taking the girls to town for a movie or something?”

“Or something?” the blonde said with a tight smile.

She shrugged. “Jack and I just need a few hours to ourselves. There's just been so much happening, and we haven't had a lot of time for each other.”

“Is Ava going to be here when we get back?” Susie asked.

Rachel tilted her head at the small bow the girl held. “Are you . . .?”

“Kid's a crack shot with the bow,” Charles said as she ruffled Susie's hair. “Aren't you?”

“I'm gonna go to Gotham and be a superhero when I'm bigger!”

Rachel laughed. “Really? Who's your favourite?”

“I like Catwoman!”

Charles' fists clenched and she ground her teeth. “Catwoman isn't a superhero, Susie.”

“But she's in love with Batman, and I wanna marry Batman!”

“I thought you wanted to marry Jack?”

Susie gave Rachel a Look and sighed heavily. “I'm going to be Ava's big sister,” she said with attitude. “I can't marry Jack until she's big enough to take care of herself.”

“So, we're done here?” Janet asked as Charles and Rachel laughed.

“Yeah. Get everything put away and get washed up; we leave in ten minutes.” The girls scampered off and Charles turned a careful smile on Rachel. “Anything special planned for the night?”

“Just spending time together. I can't remember the last time we did more than kiss each other goodnight. I love your help, Charles, and I don't mind Susie and Janet, but . . .”

Charles looked around, then hugged her. “It's all a bit much?”

Rachel nodded as she returned the hug. “For him, for me . . . but mostly for him. Maybe . . . I mean, if tonight goes well, would you mind taking the girls out a couple times a week? I feel stupid for not thinking about this before. Jack's used to being alone all day, then we throw three people at him almost at once, and you and Janet can amuse yourselves, but Susie needs more attention than he's used to giving, you know?”

“I know,” Charles nodded. “I understand. I'll take them out whenever you need me to.”

“You're a live-saver, Charles.”

“It's my job.” They headed back inside. “Is he still going to that concert this weekend?”

Rachel nodded. “I think so. God, I hope so. He needs to relax.”

“Okay. Janet likes that band, too. I'm sure Bruce will keep an eye on them for you.” She kicked at the wall. “Ugh, I can't believe Susie likes that cat bitch . . .”

Rachel shrugged as she rubbed her lower back. “I'm sorry. I can't keep any of you straight any more.”

“That bitch doesn't have a chance,” Charles snarled. “If she keeps sniffing around my man ---” The stairs creaked and both women paused.

“You're supposed to change subjects smoothly when the person you're talking about walks in,” Jack muttered as he rounded the corner.

“Surprisingly, not everyone's always talking about you,” Charles said. “Not going to shave?”

He looked exhausted as he scratched the back of his neck, eyes a little wide. “Uh? No. Bath's running,” he said to Rachel. “You're taking the girls, right?”

Charles nodded. “We're leaving in about five minutes. When do you want us back?”

Jack sucked on his lower lip and looked a little apprehensive. “Midnight? Is that too late on a school night? Wait, they're not in school any more . . .”

Charles patted his arm. “It's all right, Jack. Midnight's just fine. Janet! Grab the night-vision goggles!”

“Yes, ma'am!” the girl called back.

“Are you ready yet? Hurry!”

“Yes, ma'am!” Susie yelled.

Jack sidled up behind Rachel and wrapped his arms around her, leaning his forehead into the crook of her neck. He was breathing in sharply, then letting it out quietly, making it almost seem like he was crying. Rachel just covered his hands with one of hers and raised the other one to his hair, rocking from side to side as Charles herded Janet and Susie out the front door.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered.

Rachel thought she'd misheard him. “What?”

“I'm sorry. For the way I've been acting.”

“I'm used to you sulking, Jack.”

“No, it's . . . it's more than that. I've . . . I'm sorry, Rachel.”

She turned in his arms slightly and slipped her arm over his shoulder, hugging him close as she kissed his cheek. “Jack . . . it's okay. Whatever you think you've done, it's okay. I love you.”

“I don't deserve it,” he mumbled.

Rachel laughed. “Since when do you not think you deserve the best of everything? Where'd your ego go?”

“Enough about me. Let's move on to you.” That made her laugh again as Jack walked her to the stairs. “You are . . . gorgeous.” He kissed her neck. “You are . . . smarter than I am.” He kissed the other side of her neck while Rachel kept laughing. “You are . . . the mother of my child.” He patted her stomach lightly. “You are . . . kind. And . . . generous. And . . . you've never not turned me on. Ever.” Their clothes were coming off piece by piece, tossed on the stairs, the floor, anywhere.

“Even when I'm bloated and gassy and blaming it all on you?”

He nodded. “Even then. Sometimes I'm too tired or upset, but it's always an appealing thought. You're talented, and loving, and . . .” His voice lowered to a whisper as he shut the tub off. “And I wish I'd known you . . . before.”

Rachel had often wished the same thing, wondered what their lives would have been like if they'd met each other before he'd gone completely crazy. She liked to think that she could have saved him from the madness before it had consumed him so totally. She sighed as she lowered herself into the bath tub, letting the water take a lot of the baby weight off of her lower back. Jack slid in behind her and crossed his arms over her chest, resting his cheek in her hair. They were both quiet for a long time before he spoke.

“I've been . . . trying to remember. Really remember, not just something I've made up for the hell of it. I want to . . . be able to explain to Ava, if I'm not as affectionate toward her as you are, why that is. I don't want her to think that I don't . . . love her.” Rachel was quiet, just leaning her head down enough to kiss Jack's arms. He moved his hands over her stomach and pressed in, laughing a little when Ava pressed back. “I know that, uhm, I came to Gotham from Chicago. I don't think that's where I started, but . . . I've had military training. I wasn't in the military, but someone who had been taught me most of what I know about bombs and weapons. Tactics.” Jack sighed and hugged her tighter, and Rachel ran her fingers through his hair. “I don't know how long my mother was in the picture. I don't really remember her being there, but I do know that I hated my father. He was . . .” Jack shook his head sharply and whined a little in the back of his throat, pressing his face into the soft skin of Rachel's neck. “It's just that . . . if I ever treated you or Ava the way he treated me . . . I'd rather die than let that happen.”

Her usual assurance that he would be a wonderful father died before it left Rachel's lips. What Jack needed right now was something solid to ease his fears. So she turned her head to kiss him while she pressed his hands into her belly.

“Is this why you didn't want a baby?” she asked quietly. Jack nodded. “The fact that you're worried about hurting us tells me that you won't, Jack. Right now . . . right now I think that you're worrying too much about it. I think you'll calm down a lot after Ava's born. Would you . . . rather we not leave you alone with her for a while?”

“Please,” he whispered. “Are you okay? You've been really out of breath.”

“Not much room for my lungs any more,” Rachel replied. “But look, she's waking up more.”

Jack watched her stomach move and distort as Ava started rolling over. “Ugh, that is so weird.”

Rachel laughed. “It feels weird, too. But it means she's healthy. Count with me.”

Kick counting had become one of Jack's favourite sports once he'd learned about it. It let him bond with Rachel and Ava, in addition to making sure that Ava was doing just fine. Now his hands were following his daughter's movements and he was counting under his breath, occasionally poking Rachel's stomach to get the baby to move how he wanted her to. Rachel relaxed in his arms and felt all of her earlier tension melt away. She hadn't quite realised until now that she'd been tense with their full house, too, but between the warm water, Jack's strong hands on her skin, and the comforting feel of him against her back, she felt so very much better about everything.

“So, what's on the agenda tonight?” he murmured in her ear.

Rachel smiled. “You.”

“Me? That uh, that leaves a whole variety of options open. You might want to, uh, narrow it down a bit. I mean,” and he chuckled, “unless you want me to take dirty pictures of you.”

He'd been enunciating more clearly for a few days. Which was good, because Jack had the tendency to mumble, but the particular speech patterns made Rachel's lips try to tug into a frown.

“That depends on if you plan to sell them or not, and if you do, how much of a profit am I getting, and can you assure me that my mother and Bruce won't ever see them?”

That made Jack howl with laughter, which made Ava kick sharply. Rachel winced as he hugged her. “Oh, damn, there goes my plan to get rich.”

“You know, taking dirty pictures of me while I'm pregnant might turn Ava into a porn star when she gets older. You wouldn't want to be responsible for that, would you?”

“Gyah! Damn it, Rachel, why do you do that to me?” Jack was shuddering with disgust as she laughed at him.

“Relax, honey, she won't be a porn star because of dirty pictures.”

“Whatever. Does this mean I can take them?”

“No, it doesn't.”

“. . . Can we have sex, now?”

She laughed again and shifted back against him, rubbing just a little. Jack sighed heavily as he gently cupped her breasts. “Yes, we can.”

“Oh, good. I like tub sex.”

“Jack, you like all sex.”

“Not my fault,” he claimed as one hand found its way over and between her thighs. “Harleen said I could either channel all my anger into arts and crafts with the rest of the kooks at Arkham, or --- oh, crap, keep doing that --- or have lots of sex.”

“And,” Rachel panted, “being a man, you chose sex.”

“Of course,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against the back of her neck. “She also, uh, also . . . she used words like fire, and burning . . . explosion . . . hard to choose Crayola when she was being soooo damned --- nnn! --- persuasive.” He bit into the soft flesh at the base of her neck and lifted Rachel enough to slide into her, panting. “Shit, that woman liked to talk dirty . . .”

“Sorry I'm so vanilla,” Rachel whimpered as he held her still. She lay her head back on his shoulder and gasped.

“Oh, no, you're much more fun; you let me tie you up and order you around.” Water was getting everywhere but neither cared at the moment. “You know what would have been great?”

“You shutting up about Harleen?”

He snorted. “No, a threesome with you two.”

Rachel groaned, then bit her lip as it turned into a squeal when he pinched a sensitive nipple. “What is it with you and group sex, Jack?! First Hideki and Raoul, now me and Harleen . . .”

“Don't get me started on fantasies with you three,” was his growled response. “Unless you're actually interested in doing it.”

“That would be like doing my brother,” Rachel whispered as she closed her eyes. She drew her knees up a little more and gripped the sides of the bath tub tightly.

“Wanna watch?” Jack teased.

“No.”

“What about you and Helna?”

“Jack! Shut up!”

He laughed but did as he'd been told, tilting her head to the side to kiss her lips. Rachel grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and held him there. It felt so good, even with Ava flip-flopping around in protest. Jack moved one hand to rub her belly and the baby kicked harder, which made him laugh into their kiss. After a while he pushed her gently forward until she was on her knees, whispering into her ear to make sure she was comfortable. Rachel just pushed back against him in reply, her lips barely grazing the water in the tub as she begged him to take her harder.

“If you insist,” he moaned against her neck, and Rachel almost screamed as he stopped being careful with her. She grabbed on to the edges of the tub on either side of the tap to keep from cracking her skull against it, pushing her hips back against Jack and crying out encouragement. Her breasts were going to ache after this was over, but Rachel accepted the consequences gladly.

It didn't take long for Jack to finish, his fingers digging into her hips and leaving bruises. Rachel wasn't long after, thanks to his very talented fingers and tongue, and then he pulled her back again and she curled up on her side, her head resting on his chest as they both panted.

“You are so amazing,” Jack whispered in her ear.

“Mm, I try.” Rachel tilted her head up to kiss him gently before snuggling back down into the cooling water. “Charles says she'll take the girls out a couple times a week for us, so we can have more time together. I'm so sorry, Jack, for bringing all these people into our home so suddenly. I forgot that you might need longer to adjust to them.”

“It's . . . thank you. I don't mind them being here; I like the girls, and you're safe with Charles. I just . . . need a bit more alone time than I thought I needed.” Jack sighed and pushed her up gently, wrapping a towel around them both after they were standing. “But hey, I'm all for them all getting out of my hair every few days. I don't need Susie running in, thinking I'm beating you to death or anything.”

Rachel laughed. Jack wasn't taking his hands off of her for more than a moment as he dried her off and bundled her in her terry-cloth bathrobe, pulling her slippers on and then drying her hair off. “We might have to move Ava's room downstairs, in that case. Or learn to be quiet.”

He rolled his eyes. “Eh, we'll just soundproof it and leave one of those baby monitor walkie-talkie things in there.”

That made her laugh again. “Yeah, sure, we'll do that.”

“Good! Now, how about a movie and some popcorn?”

“Sounds great,” Rachel sighed as he pulled his own robe on and then helped her down the stairs. “Backrub?”

“Of course.”

“What movie?”

“Porn?”

She hit his shoulder lightly. “I am not watching porn with you. We don't even have porn.” His face was carefully neutral and Rachel hit him again. “Jack Dawes ---”

“Fine, fine! I don't have any porn, honest. Sheesh . . .” He was grinning as he settled her on the couch and dimmed the lights. “I'll be back with the popcorn.” Rachel turned around and crossed her arms over the back of the couch, resting her chin on them with a smile as she watched Jack disappear into the kitchen.

When Charles got home with the girls, they were both asleep on the couch. She smiled and covered them with a blanket before herding Janet and Susie into their room and laying out some spare bedding on the floor to sleep on.

(Batman fic) Sing, chapter 20

2008-11-25T02:20:44Z

Title: Sing
Author: larissafae
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse.
Pairing: Jack/Rachel
Chapter rating: PG.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this wouldn't be a fanfic, now, would it?
Summary: Sequel to Speak; after nearly two years of marriage, Rachel's ready for kids, while Jack is less than enthusiastic about the idea. Additionally, someone's been kidnapping and murdering women in the area, leaving them with Glasgow smiles, and the police have come to Jack for help.
Previous chapters and Speak: speak_sing

Mary had been missing for two and a half weeks. Rachel had refused to go back to Gotham. She'd gotten Janet and Susie placed in their custody for the time being, Charles had moved to the couch, and the sisters had moved in to the downstairs bedroom. More often, though, Susie ended up between Jack and Rachel. That meant his household had exploded from two and a half people to five and a half in less than a month, and he was having a little trouble adjusting.

“What's the capital of Pennsylvania?” Janet called from the dining room. Rachel had gotten them in some home study program, which meant he was stuck with them all day long.

“Harrisburg,” he called back. He was on the couch, arms crossed over his chest as he concentrated on the news. Susie was playing with her Barbies behind him, Charles was making lunch in the kitchen, and Rachel was at work. He knew Rachel was at work, because he called her every half hour. She let him because she knew she was lucky to not be locked up in Wayne Manor, knew that she was lucky he was allowing her out of his sight.

“When's Mommy coming home?” Susie asked as she leaned over the back of the couch. “Will she be back in time for Halloween?”

Jack sighed and leaned forward, cracking his neck and sighing. They had eleven days until Halloween. He rubbed the stubble on his chin with a frown. “I don't know, Susie. She'll be back as soon as she can.” Janet walked past to get the calculator she'd left on the mantle and Jack's eyes followed her, sliding up her bare legs until they disappeared under the skirt she was wearing. It hit her at mid-thigh and hugged her curves just enough to tease. Jack closed his eyes tightly until she'd gone back to her homework, then clenched his fists and stood up.

“Where are you going, Jack?”

“Out, kid. I'll bring you back some candy.”

That settled Susie down as Charles came out with a tray of sandwiches, following him to the door. “Don't go,” she murmured.

Janet's legs flashed through his mind and he shook his head quickly. “You either let me go into town,” he told Charles, “or I take Janet upstairs and fuck her. Your choice.” It disgusted him; not that he could even think about having sex with Janet, but that the thought was less and less disturbing, and more and more appealing.

“You're insane, Jack.”

“Getting there.” He glanced inside, then raised a hand to keep Charles quiet. “Mary's still alive.”

That got her attention and her eyebrows went up. “How do you know?”

“Because no one's found her body yet; they're not exactly being discreet about dumping them any more. They're waiting to see what I do, want me as tense as possible. I just need to stay in control until I find them.”

“And an affair with the Johnson woman will help you . . . how? This is stupid, Jack. Bruce could find them quicker ---”

“And then what?” Jack whispered, starting to tremble. “I need to get rid of him once and for all.”

“Who? Bruce?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. I'm leaving.”

She was following him to the car. “Would you just talk to me, Jack? You don't need to do this all by yourself. Rachel and Ava are depending on you to be there for them.”

“Do not talk to me about my wife and child,” he growled, yanking the car door open.

“You can't even say their names any more. I agreed to help you, Jack, but I didn't agree to do this.”

“I'm going to go check on her. Get some lunch with her, maybe.”

“Does it help your conscience to not say Rachel's name before you go off to fuck another woman?”

“Rachel is my conscience. I'm going to check on her.” He left Charles staring after him, heart pounding as he drove to Veronica's. Better to be abusive toward her than toward Rachel. Veronica would take it, no question; she expected him to be rough, she didn't know how gentle he treated Rachel. Just as long as she was screaming his name by the end of it, he could treat Veronica however he wanted to.

She answered the fourth time he pounded on the door. “Jack? What the hell are you ---”

Jack shoved his way inside and kissed her. It was the second time he'd put his lips on her and Veronica grabbed at his shoulders, melting against him.

“Where are they?” he growled when he pulled away.

“Who?” she panted. “Why are you here?” He was pulling her blouse out of her pants, biting her neck. “Oh, God, Jack . . .”

“Anita and Maureen. Where are they staying? I need a more specific area than 'around Folsom.' Tell me.” He threw her shirt to the side and then stripped his own off before grabbing her breasts. “Where are they?”

“Christ, Jack, I don't know. They won't tell me, and it's not like I have them over to tea.” She twisted her arm behind her to unhook her bra, letting it drop to the floor, then started tugging at his jeans as Jack pulled her skirt up.

“You're fucking useless.” He bit down on her lower lip and she slapped him, so he slapped her back. “Don't hit me. Now shut the fuck up.”

It wasn't rape. It was just very rough, domineering sex that Veronica wasn't quite ready for. Her whines of pain and her fists hitting his back stopped after a few thrusts, then she was wrapping both legs around his waist and kissing him. Jack hated the way she tasted, hated the way she felt around him, hated that he was too far gone to run back to his wife and baby girl. Veronica was louder and more high-pitched than Rachel was; the sound made his head hurt even worse. He had to get Mary back. His girls . . . no, not his. They weren't his. They needed their mother, he needed his wife, his wife who was about to be a mother . . .

“Rachel,” he whispered.

Veronica pulled his head back by his hair and almost spit in his face. “Don't you dare say her name when you're with me!”

He groaned at the pain and moved one hand to the small of her back, the other still digging into her thigh. “Rachel . . .”

“I hate you,” Veronica snapped, pushing at his chest. “Let me go!”

“What did you think was going to happen?” Jack grunted in her ear as he caught her hands and held them above her head, not slowing down one bit. “Did you think I was going to run off with you? Look at me. Look at me,” he snapped, grabbing her chin with his other hand and forcing her to make eye contact. There were tears in her blue eyes and she wasn't enjoying this any more, and Jack didn't give a damn. “Did you think I cared about you? That I could, mm, ride off into the sunset with you and abandon the only people I love?”

“Let me go,” she whispered harshly, still trying to struggle. “You're hurting me.”

Jack pressed his lips to her neck and panted. “Just . . . one . . . moment . . .” He shuddered and bit back a groan. He took a moment to catch his breath, then stepped away from Veronica and let her drop to the floor, pulling his pants up. She stared up at him with loathing in her eyes, but there was still desire lurking on her face and he snorted. “I need a shower.”

“You're just going to barge in to my home,” Veronica hissed as she scrambled up, “fuck me, then use my shower and leave?”

“Uh . . . yeah, that's about what I'd planned on.” Jack pushed her away from him. “Do you know what the murderer wants?”

She followed him upstairs and into the bathroom, pulling her blouse back on. “No, tell me.” Her voice was oozing sarcasm.

“He wants the Joker back. Wants me to lose control, go back to Gotham, and . . . well, I'm not too sure what then, but they sure as hell don't want Jack.” He turned the shower on, stripped, and got in. “I'm uh, not stopping you from getting in with me. So what does he do? He starts killing people. Hey, no problem. I don't care about those women. They're just objects to me. Things. So he puts smiles on their faces,” and Jack pulled the shower curtain to the side to flash her a grin, “to make sure he has my attention. Only goes after women who resemble my wife. See, he's trying to use my weaknesses against me, what few I have. You getting in or not?”

Veronica sighed and got undressed, and Jack waited until she'd joined him before continuing. “Now, he's not completely dense, so he's figured out I've got a soft spot for Mary's girls. So now, Mary's missing. He'll probably try for Rachel next.”

“And why aren't you telling this to the police?”

Jack had worked shampoo into his hair and rinsed it out, then shook his head like a dog. “Because I don't trust the police. Tom, sure, because he knows that if he double-crosses me, I'll take Helna and Mitzi and he won't want to know what I do to that baby, then I'll kill Helna, then him.”

Veronica was pale. “What would you do to Mitzi?”

Jack looked at her with earnest brown eyes. “Not a damned thing. I'd kill most anyone who tried to hurt her, too. But he wouldn't know that, and that's the point. But I will kill you, darling, if you utter one word of any of this to any one. What I'm telling you now, our little affair . . . if one word of it gets out, I'm coming after you. Is that clear?” He took her chin again and raised Jeff's straight razor to her lips, tugging a little at her cheek with it. “Is it? Sweety?”

Her situation was just sinking in and Veronica's eyes widened again. His tone had been so casual, his movements so natural, that until she nicked her tongue on the razor, she hadn't quite realised what he was doing. He was smiling beatifically the whole time, just having a pleasant conversation. She nodded, small, quick jerks of her head as a whimper forced its way out of her throat.

Jack let her go and kissed her, keeping the razor flush against her neck as he put his other hand between her legs. She whined again and tried to shy away, but he shushed her and kissed her again. “It's okay, Veronica . . . it's all right . . . I'm not going to hurt you just for the hell of it.” Well, not yet. “You just need to do what I tell you. You've got a lot of free time on your hands, sweet cheeks, more than I do these days. I need you to find out exactly where those two bitches are staying. Can you do that for me?”

“Please, let me go,” Veronica whispered. She was crying, now, too terrified to move.

“Tell me you'll find them,” Jack pressed. Her body wasn't too terrified to react to his touch, though, and he purred. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” she sobbed. “I'll find them. Please don't hurt me.”

That made him giggle. “Wasn't planning on hurting you,” he said as he sank to his knees, grinning up at her. “I mean, unless I've got the tongue of a cat.” He leaned forward and practically skipped over yet another line he'd sworn he wouldn't cross, licking and sucking at Veronica and hoping he died. He couldn't begin to excuse his behaviour and so he didn't, but that didn't mean he liked it . . . except that he did like it. He loved having this woman in the palm of his hand, willing to do almost anything he wanted her to do just so long as he gave her some semblance of affection. She was pulling at his hair again, holding his head in place, gasping some name that he only vaguely recognised. Then she was hollering and thrashing in his grasp and as soon as she calmed down he stood up, turning to grab the mouthwash she kept in the shower and taking a gulp of it. He needed her taste out of his mouth. Five minutes later he was leaving the house; Veronica had disappeared and he hoped he didn't see her again for a long time.

He drove straight to the law offices and barged in; her secretary looked up in surprise as he stalked toward her office door.

“Ah, Mr. Dawes, Mrs. Dawes isn't in right now . . .”

He stopped as he was reaching for the handle, a shudder running through him. “Where is she?”

“She's at the courthouse. Ah, the Jenkins case?”

He cursed under his breath and turned to the woman. “When will she be back?”

“About an hour, I think.” Another curse and he turned around to leave. “Should I tell her you stopped by, Mr. Dawes?”

Who was she talking to? Oh, him. Right. “I don't care,” he said as he walked out the door. He needed Rachel, or else he'd go right back to Veronica and bang her again. Maybe kill her. No, she'd be too boring to kill. Maybe he'd hijack the Mitzi-thing instead, take it and the girls to the park for a while. His girls had been cooped up in the house since they'd moved in. Surely they needed the air, right? He was home before he knew it and pushing the front door open.

“Janet! Susie!” They weren't downstairs and he leaned into the stairwell doorway, banging on the wall. “Hey!”

“They're outside, Jack,” Charlie said from the laundry room.

“Why the hell aren't you out there with them?”

“Because I've got them wired with tracking devices that will let me know if they leave the immediate area. I'm not an idiot. Unlike you.”

“You could have just let that last bit be implied, you know.”

“Oh, but I wanted to make sure you didn't miss it.”

“Kinda hard not to,” Jack said in a sing-song voice as he walked out the kitchen door and raised his cupped hands to his mouth. “Janet! Susie! Get over here!”

They came running up a moment later, hair flying in the breeze, panting.

“Is Mommy back?!” Susie asked, throwing herself at him.

Jack picked her up and spun her around before settling her on his hip. “Nope. We're going to the park. Come on!”

“Why are we going to the park?” Janet asked.

He looked back at her with a frown. “Because . . . why not? You've been stuck inside the past two weeks, I thought you might want some fresh air.”

He got a teenaged sigh. “We go outside a lot, Jack. We're there right now?”

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Come on, we're going to the park anyway. Don't argue with me, Janet. Don't your friends hang out at the park?”

“They won't talk to me,” she muttered as she climbed in the car. “They think . . . they think their parents will go missing if they do.”

Jack buckled Susie in and scratched the back of his head. “Well, they're idiots. Hungry? I'll buy us lunch.”

“Charles fed us after you left. Why are you so social all of a sudden?”

Jack shot her a stern look, but Janet was staring out the window. “Don't talk to me like that, Janet. If you've noticed, I'm sort of hit-and-miss when it comes to being sociable. Plus, you two are really my only company during the day, and Rachel's generally too tired to do anything but sleep when she gets home.”

“I want to go to the park,” Susie said nervously. “Are we still going?”

“Do you see me driving?” he asked in return, flashing her a grin in the rear-view mirror. “Of course we're still going.”

“Will Rachel be there, too?”

“She's busy right now, sweety.”

Susie thought for a moment, then brightened. “Is she having Ava? Is that where she is?”

“Shit, I hope not. No, Ava's still too tiny to come out yet. Rachel's just working. If Ava's ready to come out when Rachel's at work, she'd call me.”

“And then you'd call me, right?”

Jack laughed and nodded. “Right, sweet tea, I'd call you first.”

Susie was delighted. “And I'll be able to hold Ava, right? Can I hold her first?”

“No, Rachel gets to hold her first, then I get to hold her. But you can hold her when the doctors say it's okay for other people to hold her, all right?”

“Before anyone, right? Before Janet?”

“Oh, please,” her older sister muttered.

“Of course you can hold her before Janet,” Jack promised. “You'll be the best little big sister in the world.” It made Susie laugh with delight.

~

They'd been at the park for half an hour when Jack looked up and saw the two women on the swings, smirking at him. He gave the tire swing an extra-hard shove, which made both girls shriek.

“Stay here, girls. I'll be right back.” They didn't move when he walked toward them, and Jack was no longer having fun. “Hanging out in broad daylight's more balls than you usually have, Maury.”

The man snorted, still grinning at him. “You're quite the family man these days, Jaaaack.”

“Why don't you tell me what you want?”

Maury twirled some hair around his finger coyly. “You, darling. We've always only wanted you.” He waved his hand at Jack dismissively. “Not this, this façade you've got going on right now, no. We want the real you, honey. Mob's got big plans for Gotham, see. The Justice League is getting way out of hand, and they figure the only one with enough cajones to bring them down is the Joker.” He smoothed his skirt as Jack shifted so he could keep an eye on the girls, as well. “And oh, how many women have you let die?”

“Don't know, don't care. You don't want the Joker to come back, Maury. You think what happened last time was bad? He'd be out for vengeance this time, and you're number one on the shit list right now. No one in Gotham would survive.” Jack crouched down and peered up at Anita. “What's in it for you, Bentley?”

“Just doing my job,” she replied.

“Where's Mary Mills?”

She blinked at him. “Who?”

“You know who I'm talking about. She's been missing for two and half weeks.”

“Oh, her. She's alive, for now. You're going to need to come back to Gotham with us if you want her to stay that way.”

He snorted and watched Susie climb off the tire swing and stagger for a moment, dizzy. “Mob couldn't handle him last time. They're making a huge mistake.”

“They're taking their chances.” She was kicking her legs like a little girl, tilting back in the swing. “You've made this easy, Jack. You've got a wife, who's about to pop. You've got these two brats, who adore you. Who else do you care about? The police chief's wife? You spend a lot of time fucking her.”

“Blow-jobs aren't sex.”

“Rachel'd see it differently.”

That made him laugh. “Are you threatening to tell Rachel that I've been screwing around with Veronica? Is that supposed to scare me into coming back to Gotham?” Actually . . . if Rachel found out, she might leave. She'd go to her mother's place, or maybe hole up with Wayne. Wasn't a bad idea. “Making that woman suck me off doesn't count as a relationship, I hope you realise. Well, maybe Maury doesn't, but you ought to.”

“With a pregnant wife at home, too.” Anita shook her head and sighed sadly. “What a shame.”

“Isn't it just.” He stood up. “So what's this little chat about?”

“We thought, since you weren't paying attention to our little messages,” Maury cooed, “that we'd ask you nicely to come with us.”

“Right. Let me just pack up, huh?” Jack rolled his eyes. “I'm going to kill both of you, and I'm going to enjoy it.”

“We'll see you later,” Anita called as he turned and walked back to his girls.