Summary: Desi hates the Starbucks.
Genre: I dunno (little help?)
Pairing: The Joker/Desdemona
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I don't believe anyone owns the Joker. Joker for all! But I bet DC comics and Warner Bros. might disagree.
Author Notes: Not spoiler-y at all, but a little adult. Mild violence. Comment are teh awesome!
It was after noon before Desi stretched, rolling over to say good morning. She opened her eyes, and found that she was alone in the bed. She sighed, too satisfied with the memories of the night previous to care about his departure.
She pulled the rich purple sheet over her head and stretched, moaning softly as her mind wandered to the excitement of his touch on her breasts, his breath on her neck. Her thighs shook at the thought of it and a smile spread wide across her face. The loft was silent, but inside her head was, "Wonderful, amazing, incredible, awesome, exciting, wonderful, wonderful, and even more wonderful."
She kicked her feet free from the sheet and threw them off the side of the bed, lifting her up to a sit. Realizing she had nothing to wear, she tucked the sheet into a sort wrap and rose to walk into the main room.
She crossed the card table and ran the tips of her fingers across it. I wonder if he has Clorox wipes? She thought. Shaking her head, she stretched out on the couch, when there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, she stood and slowly walked to the door. It opened to reveal a boy of perhaps twenty, who jumped nearly out of his skin. He was holding a large suit box.
"Um, yeah?" she asked, leaning her head against the door. He handed the box over, his hands shaking. "Here you go, lady." he rattled, "Please, whatever you do, tell him I did good, ok?" Accepting the box, Desi looked down and realized she had no money to tip the boy. "Just a sec." she said, walking back to the counter to set the box down. "I'll tell him you did great, ok?" She said, but when she turned, the doorway was empty.
Desi examined the box, tapping on the top with one hand. She shrugged, lifted the top and brushed through the black tissue paper. Inside was a six button, very form fitting vest, a just above the knee pleated shirt, and a pair of Manolo heels, all a deep red color. Attached to the heels was a note:
Be wearing this when I see you next.
And buy yourself some underthings...
I want to be surprised!
PS - You have big feet. hAHahaHAHa
Desi immediately looked down at her feet, turning them in toward each other. Custom clothes, designer shoes... She reached into the right shoe to find a bundle, all $100 bills. The man has taste. She thought. She collected up everything and headed for the shower, whistling "Dress you up" all the way.
She emerged an hour later, threw her black trench over herself, and headed out to shop.
The Joker returned alone, several rolled documents under one arm. He headed to the table and dropped them down. He didn't look around for Desi. In fact, he seemed completely disinterested in her completely. He sat looking over the blueprints for the better part of an hour, slowly forming a plan in his head.
After sitting motionless for at least ten minutes, he sprung up, searched his pockets for a pencil and began scribbling things on the corner of the blueprint while laughing to himself. "Oh, that's good." he said to no one. He was still at this when The door opened and Desi walked in, carrying a heap of bags.
She saw he was working and crept by him to the bedroom. Moments later she returned, having added black thigh high stockings and garters to her outfit. She stood beside the table, looking over his shoulder. After a few silent moments, the Joker turned to look up at her, happily exclaiming, "Homework assignment!"
He stopped to notice her accessories, which included the stockings and a black headband with red polka dots. Making a face, he turned back to what he was doing, talking to Desi without really acknowledging her.
"You, my dear, are going out tonight. This is a map of all the franchise coffee shops in the financial district. Tonight I want you to break into each of them and put this" he said, pulling a vial from his breast pocket, "into the flavor syrup." He turned, pointing an instructive finger at Desi, "Not in the same one each time. Vary it up." He turned back to his map, obviously pleased with himself.
"What is it?" Desi asked, kneeling down to eye the vial now sitting on the table. "Cyanide." He replied, as he stood and walked from the table. "Will it be enough?" Desi asked. The Joker just rolled his eyes, "I have mo-re" he said, "What do you take me for?" He snatched the small vial up from the table, "This one's mine."
She stood, did a complete turn stopping quickly to let the skirt twirl around her, "What do you think?" she asked. "I think you should blow something up too." he responded, ignoring her, "A gruesome twosome." He eyes widened, and he wagged his eyebrows at her. Desi dropped her shoulder's and nodded, contemplating. "What should I destroy?" she asked.
The Joker looked up and squinted, thinking. He grinned, a look of satisfaction upon him. "A school." he said, as if in a daydream. "One thing..." he said, snapping out of it, "I want it all done by 5am. I have the tools and equipment, and your help will be here at 11pm, so that gives you roughly five hours to pull it all off."
"That doesn't leave much time, I'll have to work quickly." she said, her eyes scanning as she tried to visualize. "Remember, it must look like no one's been there. In and Out. No messes." She swallowed hard, "You won't be there?"
He paced around the table, "I have my own tasks tonight. Besides, I'm expecting big things from you, Des-de-mona. You can't learn without being tested." He sat down and she sat across from him. "Really, why the name Desdemona?" she asked him.
He clicked his tongue loudly, and answered, "Well, you see, it has to do with these scars. When I was just a hoodlum, anarchist in training, like you, I had this girlfriend. She was a Chola, in a Mexican girl gang, she was beautiful but crazy." He shifted his shoulders and continued, "We were amazing together, but I was young, and cocky, and I liked to play around. Mona found out about this just went wild. She attacked me one night, and with the other girl watching did this to me."
He continued, gesturing to the scars on either side of his face. "She said this was the price I paid for disloyalty. She said she'd make so no other girl would even look at me. She killed the other girl. Maybe I thought I could reclaim something from that, even if just the name." The Joker shifted around, licking his lips but not looking at Desi. Desi leaned across the table, "Oh my god." she began, "Is...is that true?" The Joker met her gaze. "Probably not."
After loading everything into trucks and meeting her boys, Desi organized everything in a 'round robin' fashion. Everyone was doing something, with her at the end of it all, finalizing and ensuring everything was to her satisfaction. At any one moment there would be someone picking a lock, adding the poison, placing the hidden playing card somewhere in the store, and locking each place back as though no one had been there.
There was also and crew for the police and for batman to give warning. The final crew consisted of just Desi and the first two boys she worked with. They were going to work on the school. Other than the exhilaration she felt at the worry of being caught, she found it eerily easy to slip in an out of a building without detection.
She even hung back, laughing to herself and security crews showed up to each location, only to conclude that there must be some sort of bug in the system. She reached the school at 3:45, plenty of time to rig the charge and get out no problem.
She watched eagerly as her crew attached wires and set charges. She even asked a few questions, hoping to one day learn to do it herself. When finished, she took the detonator and sent the boys home, deciding to hang out and detonate it herself. Puzzled, the boys urged her to leave with him, but she declined.
She was outside on the swing set admiring her work when a police car pulled up, shining their spotlight on her.
"Okay honey." The second cop began, walking toward her. 'Honey?' Desi thought, and stood to meet their gaze. The first cop, an older man who was obviously disenchanted with his new partner, began again: "Ma'am, do you have an explanation for what you're doing here at 4:30 in the morning?"
Desi gave one affirming nod, "I was admiring my work." she replied, "Oh, and swinging. I love to swing." The policemen looked at each other, "Ma'am, have you been drinking this evening?"
Desi straightened, "Absolutely not. Really, I worked here tonight." The first cop put his hands on his hips, "What do you do?" he asked. "I'm self employed." she responded, "Sort of a freelancer."
The second cop scoffed, "Is that what they're calling it now? Very imaginative." The first cop extended a hand toward her, "Come on, let's go."
Desi protested, "Just what is it that you think I do?" she demanded. "Well, in that outfit, you're either on your way to Comic-Con or you're a prostitute." The second cop spat.
"You think I'm a hooker?" Desi asked, incredulous. The first cop took a step toward her, his arm still extended, "Come on, dear, we'll get this sorted out." Desi didn't move. "Let me assure you..." she said, her finger slipping over the detonator in the palm of her hand, "I'm not a prostitute. What I do requires..." she says, pushing the button, "...a little more oompf."
As her sentence ended, the night lit up as the school behind her blew sky high. The blast blew her hair forward and knock the cap off the younger policeman's head. They both turned and looked at her. Desi bit her lower lip tentatively, "I get a phone call, right?"
Let's Play Catch Up!