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Duality	By : SalazarRaphael Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 2820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman and I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Duality
- 1
The 3+ tag is regarding one scene towards the end of the fic. I hope you're not getting your hopes up ;-)
Author’s Note- In reading this story, you must assume a few things. First, Rachel Dawes did not die in the fire/explosion like she did in the movie. Second, the Joker is not a liar and did not lie to Batman. Joker’s thugs switched where they put Dent and Rachel, and since Joker was in Gotham Police HQ he was unaware of this switch. Third, Joker never intended for Rachel to die. When he called to check in on his crew after he blew up the Police Station, he found out about the switch and ordered his men to take Rachel out of the building and back to their hideout. His men did as told, and this story begins right after Joker blows up the hospitals.

Duality
            Assistant District Attorney Rachel Dawes woke with a start. Where am I? All she could recall was being bound in a warehouse. Now she looked around. She was in a decent enough room and lying on a bed. With her hands chained to the bed’s headboard. She felt so weak. Then she heard his demonic drawl, “Good morning, my dear.”
            She turned her head to see the Joker, in his trademark outfit and facepaint standing at the doorway. “Let me go you monster.”
            He placed his hand over his heart and responded, “Oh you hurt me! After all I’ve done for you and your adorable little fiancée, this is how you treat me?”
            Hey eyes widened, “What did you do to Harvey?”
            “Me?” He feigned innocence, “I was locked up in Gotham’s Police HQ. All I did was sit patiently, waiting for my phone call.”
            “You killed him, didn’t you,” Rachel glared at the Joker, who was approaching the bed slowly.
            “No no; I did not. Despite my best efforts, Batman saved the day. But not before Harvey lost half of his face. Nothing I could do about that. You were supposed to be the one Batman saved. Harvey was the one who was supposed to die. Why my henchmen can’t follow basic directions is beyond me. I had them bring you here to save you.”
            “Why?”
            “You’re smart. Figure it out yourself.” He leaned over her and she could smell gunpowder and gasoline on his clothes. It made her want to gag. “Two things you should know, my dear; first, I’m a man of my word and second, I don’t rape women.”
            Rachel spat at him. “Oh I do love it when you’re feisty. You know, you could prosecute me anytime.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now get some rest, you have to be exhausted.”
            “Where are you going?”
            “To put a smile on someone’s face,” he grinned that big Joker grin. Rachel shuddered.
            Four hours later he came back into the room. Rachel was no longer glaring at him, but she did frown. “Hello sunshine. How was your rest?”
            “Why did you tell me about Harvey?”
            Joker did not appear fazed by this question, at all. Rachel’s doubts began to grow, “Because lying to you is worthless. And I don’t lie. I tell the truth. Always. Whether people want to hear it or not, I tell the truth.”
            “So Harvey’s still alive…”
            Joker grinned, “Well, in a manner of speaking. He’s at present killing people to exact ‘justice’. Seems he thinks that you’re dead.”
            “You didn’t tell him I was alive?”
            “I didn’t tell him you were dead either. What he presumed is not my business. And really, if you could see him now…I think Harvey’s most upset about his own injuries. He never even mentioned you, my dear. He only talked about himself. I mentioned you. He didn’t even blink.”
            Rachel sat perfectly still, chained to the bed. “He-he didn’t mention me?”
            Joker shook his head. “Nope. Now here, I brought you some food. And some water. Gotta keep you healthy, you know.”
            Joker sat the tray down on the bed and sat down next to her. “You know, I’m in such a good mood that I’ll even take off your handcuffs. Just don’t try to hit me. You have some right hook.”
            For the first time since she’d been kidnapped, Rachel smiled. She didn’t expect him to actually tell a joke. “Why are you so nice to me?”
            He placed silverware on the tray and pulled the tray to her lap, setting it so that it stood on its own and didn’t put any weight on her sore body, “Why should I be anything else?” She noticed his drawl had vanished. Her eyes widened.
            “You sound…normal right now. And you have been sweet to me. What did I do to deserve that?”
            He continued setting everything up. Then he reached and removed her handcuffs. She rubbed her wrists. “Eat. You need the food.”
            “Not unless you answer my question. Why are you so nice to me?”
            When he looked at her the drawl returned, “Because, my dear, I’m just a nice guy.”
            “A nice guy who blows up houses and people. A nice guy who plays games with people’s lives. Please; I’m not so naïve as to believe that.” She glared at him.
            “So I like to have a bit of fun,” he smirked at her then leaned in close, his lips barely an inch from hers, “I do things and exist for pleasure. If it feels good, I do it. And I think this will feel very good.” He closed the gap, kissing Rachel. She stayed still, stunned. His tongue flicked at her lips, then began to rub them. Rachel couldn’t believe this. The Joker, monster of Gotham City, was trying to French kiss her. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he crazy?
            Realizing he wasn’t going to pull away, Rachel leaned back from him, ending his contact with her lips. The Joker frowned, then smirked, “Very well. I’ll get you in the end, my dear.” He stroked her hair, “You really are beautiful. You should shower after you eat. There’s a bathroom right through that door.” He pointed behind him on the far wall, opposite the door he entered through, “And the closet is right there,” he directed her to the door next to a small desk. “Just don’t try to leave. Now if you’ll excuse me it’s time for me to break Gotham’s sanity.” He walked to the door.
            It suddenly occurred to Rachel that the Joker had never answered her question. “You still haven’t told me why you’ve been so nice to me.”
            He turned, but there was no longer the demonic smile on his face. He walked over to Rachel and picked her up. Leaning in, he kissed her again. But this time her mouth opened and she felt his tongue slide over her own. She moaned and her arms wrapped around his neck. He deepened the kiss, pushing her against the wall next to the bed. When she finally pulled free she gasped, “Oh God…Carter!”
            “Long time no see, Rachel.” With the Joker drawl gone, she noticed the distinct familiarity she had before not been aware of.
            “Where have you-what happened?” She looked into his eyes, as though for answers.
            “That’s for another time. Now please stay here and eat. The boys won’t hurt you. And there’s just one girl. Her name’s Harley. She’ll get you anything ah-personal,” the familiar Joker drawl returned, “that you need. I’m off to a date with the Batman.”

            As suddenly as he had kissed her and lifted her up, he had laid her back on the bed and left. She touched her lips, remembering for the first time in a long time her first really serious boyfriend.
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            “Rachel? Hi I’m…”
            “Jason Carter.” She smiled at him.
            He grinned, “Yeah. You were really, uh…intense there.”
            “I’ve always been partial to debate,” Rachel answered.
            “It shows. You’re pre-law, right?”
            “Yes I am. And you’re…”
            Jason grinned, “I’m philosophy and theater. Two disciplines that have absolutely nothing to do with you.”
            “Then why take a pre-law course?”
            “To see you.” Rachel was taken aback by his answer, “Sorry if that seems creepy. It’s just that the minute I saw you I was just…enraptured.”
            She blushed. “Well thank you, I think. You’re from Gotham?”
            He nodded, “My mom’s a cop. She’s not very thrilled that her only son is a theater kid. And philosophy. She prefers tangible things. You know, like evidence.”
            “Well maybe we’ll work together. I want to be a prosecutor.”
            “Based on what I just saw, you’ll be a damn good one,” he smiled. There was something very attractive about his smile. Almost magnetic. Rachel picked up her book bag and began to walk. Jason followed. “I was wondering if you’d maybe…”
            “Maybe what, Jason?”
            “Call me Carter. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me. And maybe then a movie? There’s a new cheesy slasher film out.”
            “When were you thinking of going on this date with me?” She smirked at him.
            “Friday night. At 8pm. The movie starts at 11.” She stopped walking and he turned towards her, “So are you interested?”
            She looked up at him, “Sure.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
            That was over fifteen years ago. She finished eating and stood up, then walked into the bathroom. “Carter…I always wondered what happened to you.” She had heard that his mother had been murdered. That news had hurt her. Carter’s mom had been very nice to her. She was almost cruelly hard on him though, and Rachel had not liked her. She had heard of some cops abusing their kids, but she’d never expected a female cop to abuse her son. As far as she knew, Carter (he’d taken his father’s last name as his own) had never been beaten. But she knew emotional abuse. And there had been Bruce in college too. She wasn’t sure who she had loved more, back then. But now looking back, Carter had balanced her. He had been rather meek, putting on a front of being strong. On their first few dates he had been shy. And when they finally made love for the first time he had been incredibly nervous. The false bravado and certainty he had once had was gone and she had fallen passionately for him.
            She luxuriated in the hot shower spray. He had left her some clothes that fit surprisingly well. And they were her taste. There was no doubt that that was Carter underneath all that Joker makeup. But who the hell was he now? He had been confident and aware. What had happened to him? They had dated for nearly a year before he had dropped out of school and didn’t answer her phone calls or text messages. She then saw the news headline of his mother being killed. She had waited a few months before trying to call him again. The phone had been disconnected. She went to all the places he had loved to go with her and she couldn’t find him. Bruce had even hired private investigators to find him. They had turned up nothing.
            Rachel sat at the desk and found some books sitting on top of it. She smiled. The God Delusion, Mein Kampf, The DaVinci Code, The Complete Works of Shakespeare; obviously he was well read. She found book upon book about serial killers. He had evidently studied them. There were notes in the margins, noting which methods seemed interesting. She opened a drawer and found a file labeled: Rachel Dawes. Inside were newspaper photos, court papers and legal briefs. All written by her or about her. Then she saw the folder beneath it. Bruce Wayne/Batman. He knew? How could he have known? Of course, Carter had always been smart. He knew how to get people to tell him things. And he knew, probably better than anyone, where to go to get the information. He and Bruce had alot in common in that regard.
            Rachel smiled at that thought. She looked at the clock. Hopefully he’d be back soon. Then she could find out what happened. For now she busied herself with his research. She decided that learning what he had studied would be her best bet for figuring out what had happened to him to make him change so dramatically.
            More than five hours later, he still wasn’t back. Rachel began pacing the room. Had he been caught? Yesterday she would have been thrilled with that news. But now; now knowing that Joker was actually Carter changed everything. Suddenly she heard someone shout. She stopped moving as she heard people running. Were the police here? Had they caught him and now found his hideout? She sat on the bed, wringing her hands anxiously. Suddenly the door swung wide open and the Joker, disheveled and bloody, walked in. He had barely closed the door before he collapsed on the floor. Rachel rushed over to him. “Where are you hurt?”
            His voice cracked, “Chest. Arms. Bats fought dirty.”
            She flipped him over carefully and then removed his suit jacket. Next came the tie and vest, then the shirt. She hadn’t thought much about his skintone beneath all that makeup. She was surprised to find that he was not only tan but also toned. His abs flexed with his heavy breathing. “I need to disinfect the wounds.” She ran into the bathroom and found a first aid kit. Returning, she found that he had managed to prop himself up against the bed. She walked over to him, setting the kit on the ground and removing the antiseptic and the gauze and bandages. “These are really deep.”
            “Batman gauntlets do that,” he grimaced. “But hey, I’m all for more scars. Adds character.”
            Rachel smiled, “Don’t you mean builds character?”
            “Not with me,” he answered. She finished cleaning his wounds and began to wrap them.
            “Carter, what happened?”
            “The name’s Joker, beautiful.” He smirked at her.
            “Let’s get that makeup off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding anywhere else.” She pulled out a washcloth and wiped his makeup off slowly and methodically. When she got to his scars, she took special care, and she noticed that his eyes closed in contentment. “Does that feel good?”
            “I don’t get pampered very often. I could get used to this,” he murmured, eyes still closed.
            “I want to know what happened. What turned Carter into the Joker?”
            “What turned Bruce Wayne into Batman?”
            “Don’t change the subject.”
            “You know, you could easily argue that the same cause affected both Joker and Batman. We really are soulmates. We understand each other too well to be enemies.”
            “Car-Joker, please. Tell me what happened. You just disappeared. Completely.”
            The Joker forced himself to his feet and sat down on the bed, then lay back. With his head resting on the pillow and eyes closed he looked more like Carter than he had in a long time. Tears formed in Rachel’s eyes. “I want to know. I-I need to know. Please tell me.”
            “There’s a file in the desk. Underneath the Batman one. Read it.”
            With trembling hands, Rachel picked up the file. It was titled, JC. Jason Carter. She opened the file, and saw Carter’s mother’s psychiatric reports. Notes that the doctors suspected abuse but that they didn’t feel that action was warranted; Carter was examined and they said that he had suffered abuse. But that he was a boy, and tough enough to take it. His mother was returned to duty. Carter’s father was killed when he was only 8 years old. His mother had stabbed him to death. She had claimed abuse and the court had let her off.
            She found clippings of the articles written about the Joker. Then she found the autopsy report regarding his mother. It said that she had been slashed. Indeed, her autopsy read like something from Jack the Ripper’s case file. She was surprised. The newspapers and officer reports, everything that she and Bruce had found didn’t mention this. And her murderer hadn’t been caught. A thought suddenly occurred to her; could Carter have killed his mother? Had the years of abuse finally gotten to him? Did he snap?
            “I didn’t kill her,” Rachel turned to see him standing up and walking towards her. “I don’t know the name of the man who killed her.”
            Rachel took a deep breath, “What happened to you, Carter?”
            “What do you want to hear? That I found her body and finally something within me snapped? That the years of abuse finally got to me? There’s no ‘reason’ I am who I am. I just am.”
            “You are-were a good man.”
            “I was a weakling.”
            “Not to me.” Her answer caught him off guard and she closed the distance between them, “I loved you. You were my world. When you disappeared it felt like a part of my life had too. I couldn’t find you; I guess eventually I just decided you were dead. And all this time you’ve been alive, a different person. The Joker. Killing, stealing, bombing. Something happened to you. Something threw you over the edge.”
            He held a knife against her cheek, “Why so serious? Is it so hard to believe that some people are just,” he licked his lips and leaned closer to her, “evil?” She backed away from him and he pushed her against the wall, “That some of us derive our pleasure from something that might make others’ stomachs turn?”
            “You weren’t always like this,” Rachel answered, “you were gentle and kind and passionate…”
            “Oh I’m still passionate. But gentle?” He chuckled, “Definitely not.”
            His free hand grabbed her hands and held them over her head. He pushed himself against her. “You’re going to what, rape me?” Rachel suddenly found courage, “Back off, Carter.” He dragged the knife carefully down her face, “Joker, stop it!” Rachel kneed him in the stomach. The knife fell from his hands and he fell onto the ground, his hand where she had hit him.
            She leaned down and reached to pick him up off the ground. He pushed her away, before finally leaning up against the bed, holding his abdomen. “Not just your right hook I need to worry about,” he grimaced.
            “I’d say sorry, but I’d do it again.” This time when she reached to lift him up onto the bed, he let her help him. “Get some sleep. You’re injured, and you need it. When you’ve rested we can talk.”
            “You’re staying.” It wasn’t a question, she knew. But he sounded as though he wasn’t certain she’d stay with him. She picked up the handcuffs and the key. She took one cuff and attached it to her wrist, and the other cuff she attached to the Joker’s.
            “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll even let you have the key,” she smiled as she slid it into his pants pocket.
            “Don’t try to take advantage of me. It wouldn’t be as fun as it would have been earlier today.”
            “I don’t sleep with criminals.” Rachel lay down next to him.
            “That’s what you think,” Joker smirked.
            The next morning she woke alone in the bed. The handcuffs had been removed. “Joker?”
            “What, a man can’t shower alone?” He walked out of the bathroom in boxers and dabbing at his wounds with a cotton ball. She smiled at his face, completely free of makeup. On the desk was an array of fruits, toast and eggs. “My gang brought some food in. You should eat.”
            Rachel took the cotton from his hand and tossed it into the trash can. “I don’t feel very hungry right now.” She leaned up and kissed him.
            He grinned, “I knew you’d come around,” with an inordinate amount of strength he lifted her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, this time letting his tongue into her mouth. He moved to the bed and dropped her onto it before pouncing on her. Rachel gasped as he took her passionately, removing her clothes at the speed of light and somehow managing to touch her everywhere all at once.
            After she had climaxed, he moved off of her and stood up to grab the food platter. “That was nothing like I remember.”
            “I’m not who you remember,” he answered, choosing a strawberry from the plate and eating it.
            “I’m noticing that.” He looked at her, surprised. She took a grape and lifted it to his mouth. “Now eat; you need your strength.”
            “Wait, you’re not going to argue with me about who I am or once was? Or ask what happened?” He looked bewildered.
            She shook her head and pushed the grape into his mouth. “If you don’t want to tell me, pushing you is useless. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to. I would like to know, but I won’t try to find out.”
            He chewed slowly, watching her speak. He swallowed and then reached for her. She let him hold her, picking up some more food and feeding him while occasionally taking some herself. They sat in silence, avoiding eye contact. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, “I found her. He was leaning over her, holding the knife. He was saying something that I couldn’t hear. When he stood up I hid. I stayed hidden until the police found me. I couldn’t talk. They took me to a mental hospital. I stayed there for 2 days. When they let me out I couldn’t go home. The police took me to the station. Asked questions that I couldn’t answer; finally backed off. They offered to take me back to campus; to call someone. They were overly polite. I just couldn’t face anyone. I went to the Dean’s office with one of the officers. I withdrew from the school. I moved off campus. I found a place near a brothel. I lapsed in the payments of my cell phone and everything else. I stole food and things I could pawn for rent money. Jacked televisions, stereos, cars; anything to make a buck. Some things I kept for myself. Made a sort of home. I started life over. Asked around. My mom had worked that area. She’d told me all about the things that happened around there. Found out pretty fast that the guy that had killed her also preyed on the prostitutes. I went to the brothel and offered to protect them from him. They laughed at me. Told me I was too weak.”
            “So I started working out. I built muscle but was careful to keep my frame lean so that I could still crawl through windows. I started getting into fights. Most of the scars on my chest and arms are from that. And then I went back to the brothels. Some John was giving one of the girls, Lily, some problems. He was trying to drag her up the street. By her hair. So I pulled out a knife and stabbed him. He didn’t come back. The Johns behaved after that. Didn’t harass the girls. I started getting tips from them; I made about $43k a month. After awhile I didn’t have to steal anymore. I bought a building, this building. Started updating it. Building levels. Turning a warehouse into a home. I built it up. Furnished it. Started purchasing fabric to make my clothes.”
            He stopped talking, and Rachel shifted her position to be able to look at his face. He didn’t continue, just took a drink of the orange juice. Rachel sighed, “Sounds rough.”
            “I survived. And prospered, ultimately.” They had finally finished the platter. He offered her some orange juice. She accepted, watching as he stood up and looked at the mirror, running his hands over his injuries from the night before. “These will be some nice scars,” he muttered.
            “How did you get the scars on your face?” She leaned on her elbow, facing his back. He frowned in the mirror and Rachel tried to cover for herself, “Don’t tell me if you don’t want. I’m just curious.” He put on his underwear and his pants, then his shirt. He slid his vest on over his shirt. He put his cufflinks on and straightened his vest. He reached for his tie and was surprised to feel Rachel’s hands over his own. Joker let her tie his tie for him, before turning around to face her. She buttoned up his vest and leaned up to kiss him. “This feels eerily natural. Whether you’re Carter or Joker, this feels right.”
            He looked down at her and felt his determination waver. Maybe he could tell her. After all, she wasn’t going anywhere. “You should put some clothes on.” She looked at him, surprised. Joker continued, “I’d hate for you to catch cold. That would be tragic.” Rachel managed a small smile. He opened the closet door and pulled out a few things. “Here.” He leaned down and captured her mouth with his own. She moaned and yanked his tie to make him turn his head.
            Rachel was the first to pull away, “Keep it up and I won’t be able to get dressed.”
            “Yes, that would be a calamity,” he drawled. Rachel was beginning to enjoy his demonic drawl, the way he put emphasis on certain words. She grinned and leaned up to kiss him again.
            This time when she pulled away she picked up the clothes and began to get dressed. “I’ll be back. I have to talk to the boys,” he smirked as he spoke, and with his face bare of any makeup he looked rather normal.
            “Without the makeup?”
            Joker touched his face, as though in shock. “Uh, give me a minute or two.” He strode quickly over to the bathroom and entered, shutting the door behind him. Rachel laughed. Five minutes later, he emerged in full face. He forced her against the bathroom door and held his hand over her throat before menacingly leaning down, “What, pray tell, are you doing to me?”
            She forced herself to look up at him as innocently as possible. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
            He pushed himself against her and she could feel his erection through his pants. Rachel couldn’t help but smile and the Joker threw her onto the bed. He jumped upon her and pulled out his knife. “You’re mocking me.”
            “I’m not.” She was enjoying this game. She liked the violence in their coupling; she just wondered how long until he’d drop the act and just take her.
            Joker pulled out handcuffs and cuffed her hands to the bed. He sat on her stomach and trailed the knife down her body gently. “Why so serious?” he cocked his head to one side and looked at her. She gasped as the knife bit into her flesh. He chuckled before leaning down to suck at the wound. Rachel threw her head back as the sensation rippled through her. “You’re beautiful. Too beautiful. All those years of fighting for you. Now you’re trapped here. With me. You’re mine.”
            He pulled out a lighter and let the blade get hot. She watched him, transfixed. She knew what he wanted to hear. But would it matter what she said? She suspected, given the way he was leaning over her, it would. “Make me yours, Joker. Mark me. Claim me. I want you to possess me.”
            His eyes widened in surprise. He grinned and leaned over her, inches from her lips, “I will.” He took the knife and sliced into her breast. Rachel hissed in a mixture of pain and pleasure. She closed her eyes, feeling a few tears escape. She didn’t know that pain could hurt so beautifully. Finally the pain stopped and she opened her eyes. “Look at it.”
            She looked down. There, carved on her breast, was a playing card with a J in 2 opposing corners. She smiled up at him, “It’s beautiful.”
            He grinned, “When it’s healed I’ll finish it. It isn’t completely my mark yet.” He reached and unhooked the handcuffs. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped up the little blood that had dripped out of the hot wound. He leaned down and kissed her, then rolled off of her and rested his back against the headboard. She sat up and fixed her bra and shirt before leaning her head against his chest. Joker’s arms scooped her up and placed her in his lap before he spoke again, “I found out that the guy went to the brothels and beat the girls up unless they paid him. But he only came around occasionally. As long as I was there, he never showed up. I was walking around Times Square one day when I saw him. He had on a business suit. A tie. Carried a briefcase. Talked on his cell phone. I didn’t know his name, but I knew he’d done it. This big important man had gutted my mother like a deer. I guess I’d expected him to be scary. He looked pathetic. I followed him around. Found out where his psychiatrist’s office was. Bribed the secretary. She told me he was afraid of clowns. Coulrophobia, it’s called. She told me that alot of the people who came in had the same fear. So I found a psychiatrist; he told me that people were oftentimes most afraid of clowns. That they scare with the facepaint. From then on I focused on getting revenge on him. I started researching clowns. People are terrified of them. So I figured why not become the symbol of fear? I started playing with the makeup, trying to figure out what worked. Finally I came up with this. I had made enough at the brothel that I just quit going there. One night a girl was raped. I went there, in full makeup and clothing, and found the guy.”
            “He didn’t put up much of an effort. Pissed himself, he was so scared. No one went near the brothel again. Until he showed up. Ballsy bastard. He had a gun. I sliced his face open like he sliced my mother’s abdomen. Threw him into the bay.”
            “I’m never going to learn how you got the scars, am I?”
            He looked down at her. “Probably not. It hasn’t come up in conversation in a long time. And I’m a man of mystery.”
            “I’m a lawyer. I know how to get an answer.”
            He smirked, “I have to go talk to the boys.”
            “I guess I’ll be here.”
            “At least for now. Give it a week then you can leave the room. I need to convince them you’re on my side.”
            She reached for his penis, “Couldn’t you convince them sooner?”
            “Are you on my side?”
            Rachel looked up at him, shifting so that she was straddling him, “I’d like to say I’m neutral, but what I feel when I’m with you…I have to be on your side. The alternative is losing you. Life without you would suck.”
            He sat there, stunned. Finally he spoke, “You’re sure?”
            “I think murder is wrong. But I can’t stop you from killing. And I can’t stop you from stealing. But what I’m feeling…it feels the same as when I was with Carter. Love.”
            His hands flew to her waist and pulled her against him. He attacked her mouth feverishly. Rachel gasped before moaning. She dug her fingers into his hair. His passion broke free and he nearly ripped her clothes from her body. Rachel fumbled with his zipper then unbuckled his pants. Joker stopped touching her and quickly removed the rest of his clothing before thrusting into her. “Joker!”
            It didn’t take long. They climaxed together; he rolled off of her and she curled up against him. “Why is it, every time I tell you I have to go see my gang you get me to stay here with you?”
            She laughed and curled up against him, “Maybe I just can’t let you go. Last time you left you came back bleeding and barely able to walk…Speaking of which, what happened?”
            “Batman appeared and we fought. I set dogs loose on him. Stabbed him. We had a delightful romp. Until the people of Gotham decided to NOT blow up each other. So I got testy. And tried to do it myself. Batman kicked my ass. But I won the fight! He just won the last round. Anyway I was thrown off the roof and then the Batman caught me with the batgrappler thing. He hoisted me up, I told him about Harvey and then he left. Gotham PD came to arrest me and I flipped up and cut through the cable. It dropped me right where I had planned. Two of my thugs were waiting. They picked me up and drove me here. Helped me through the door. And this was where I wanted to be.”
            “Batman won’t like that you escaped.”
            “I told him, we’re going to do this forever.”
            “I don’t think I can handle that. You both could get killed in the process.”
            “I really need to go talk to the boys. Come if you want.”
            She leaned close to his ear, “I already did.” Joker laughed.
            When he finally walked out of the room, his gang had already gathered. He sat down. “I’m alright.”
            “Dent got killed.”
            “What?” Rachel entered the room and the group looked up, surprised. Joker reached up with his arm and Rachel walked over to him. She sat down on his lap. A few of the men looked at each other, confused.
            Harley spoke, “Dent got killed. They’re saying the Batman did it. And that the Batman killed those cops.”
            “Dent killed the cops,” Joker spoke. Rachel looked at him, surprised, “That’s it, I’m going out.”
            His gang all looked at each other in shock. “Boss, why?”
            “Batman never takes the fall. Why is he suddenly now taking the blame?”
            “Gotham trusted Harvey,” Rachel answered. “They believed in him. He was the hero they needed.”
            “Batman,” Joker drawled, “is the hero of Gotham. Despite everything I did to them, he alone stood steadfast in his moral code. If it weren’t for Batman, Dent would have killed long before I put a gun in his hands.”
            “Boss, it’s not safe.”
            Rachel leaned her head against his shoulder, “You should stay.”
            “Well I’m not exactly 100% or anything….I guess I should get better first.”
            “You need more rest,” she lifted her head and kissed his jaw. The group stared.
            “We’re going to regroup. Rachel’s apart of this now, boys. Treat her with respect. If you don’t, I have a knife I can practice on you with.”

            Rachel exited to the bedroom she’d been staying in. She sensed that his gang wasn’t very thrilled that Joker had brought another woman into the house. Specifically her, someone who had once attempted to have him arrested; maybe she was moving too fast. But he was Carter. And the Joker. Or was he? She still wasn’t completely certain that he was either one completely. She saw alot of Carter in the Joker; but at the same time the Joker seemed to be someone completely different. He was harder, he was forceful and he was violent. He was passionate; far moreso than the young man she had loved so long ago. She’d never been into violent sex; but their coupling had brought her a new kind of awareness. He had, oddly enough, completed her now as much as he had then. Just in some very new ways.

            The Joker sat as his crew began to ask him questions. “So she’s really staying?”
            “What’d you do, brainwash her?”
            “She won’t get us all arrested will she?”
            “Damn boss, she’s pretty hot.”
            He just looked at them all until they fell silent. “Rachel is staying. She’s mine. Even has my mark. You got a problem with that, I’ll happily play slice’n’dice with you,” he grinned evilly before getting up, “Let’s take a break for a bit, boys. Give Gotham a few months off- maybe a year. Then we strike.”
            “Lure them into false safety?”
            “Exactly,” he grinned.
            Rachel leaned down and kissed him, “I think you’ve found my masochistic side.”
            “Good cause you’re fucking a sadist,” he growled, watching her apply salve to the wounds so they wouldn’t get infected.
            “I might not ever find out what made you change, Joker, but I damn well am going to keep you, this time. I’m not letting you go again.”
            He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, throwing her on the bed. He pulled out his knife and cut her clothes off before unzipping his pants and plunging his cock deeply into her, “Tell me how you like it,” he growled.
            “Harder, please,” she gasped in pleasure as he buried his cock deep, “d-deeper. Go deeper. Get into my womb, Joker. Fuck my womb.”
            “I’ll fuck your womb. And more,” he reached down and squeezed her clitoris. Rachel squealed and he laughed, “That’s it, just like that. Become mine!”
            Afterwards she curled up against him, “I’ve been yours, Carter.”
            “Yet you moved on.”
            “I thought you were dead!”
            “Did you bother looking?”

            “Yes I did! And so did Bruce! He even hired a P.I. to help look for you. We couldn’t find anything about you, it was like you disappeared from the face of the Earth. I could only mourn you for so long,” she leaned up and kissed him, “you could have found me. That file says you’ve been stalking me from a distance.”
            “I didn’t think you’d want me,” he muttered, deepening the kiss. “For once, I’m glad to be wrong,” he caressed her body gently as he twisted, moving on top of her.
            “I’m glad to be here,” she smiled, guiding him into her, “make love to me, Joker. Please?”
            “Whatever you want,” he breathed.
Six months later-
            Rachel couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so completed. The Joker, she’d stopped calling him Carter after their second week together, treated her well. He indulged her whims, letting his romantic side win out and giving her more than raw passion. Now here they sat in his hideout, having dinner with the rest of the gang. It had been a rough road, but they had decided to trust her, as they couldn’t disobey Joker. They avoided Rachel for the most part, which she was fine with. Outside of the Joker, she didn’t really want to talk to anyone else here anyway.
            One day she was walking through the compound when she heard a noise. It sounded like a moan. She peeked into the room the sound was coming from to reveal Harley Quinn sucking and fucking the gang members. There was a crowd around her of half naked to fully naked men, and one man was lying on the ground while Harley rode him. He must have had his cock in her ass, as another man was fucking her pussy while she sucked on a third man’s cock. Rachel just stared for a few minutes before leaving and heading back to her bedroom.
            The Joker was there adding some newspaper reports to his file on Batman, “I have a question, Joker,” she said.
            “What?”

            “Why is the whole gang fucking Harley right now?”
            He looked up at her, “She wants to. She likes being gangbanged. And she’s quite the cocksucker,” he shrugged, “Why does it matter?”
            Rachel shook her head. This was something else they would disagree on. Joker stood up, “Look, if she enjoys it and she wants it why can she not do it?”
            “She wants all those men to fuck her?”
            “Yeah.”
            “She’s expressed it?”
            “Of course,” he sighed, “I would never force a woman to have sex. It was her idea, actually. The guys enjoy it too, so I see no problem.” Rachel sat down on the desk and sighed.
            “It just…it seems wrong.”
            “See, that’s what you’re taught. That sex is dirty, filthy. It’s not, Rachel. By now I think you’d know that,” he pressed his body against hers, “considering how much we do it.”
            “J-Joker,” she blushed as he leaned in to capture her lips in a deep, desperate kiss.
            Meanwhile, Harley Quinn rotated her hips to elicit hungry groans from her lovers. The Joker really did give her what she wanted. She owed him much. That was why Rachel was safe. She made sure the boys were sexually satisfied and knew that they could have her whenever they wanted. And she liked having so many men lusting after her. She’d never been the pretty one. When the Joker had found her she was addicted to heroin. He’d taken her in, got her clean, and promised that if she stayed clean for a year he’d pay for her to have any plastic surgery she wanted. And Harley wanted alot. She’d stayed clean and then he’d taken her to the surgeon. Her surgery was a huge success. She had fucked the Joker plenty of times, and was glad that he’d found her attractive.
            Now her sexy, attractive body was being used by his henchmen. She was happier this way. The Joker was an amazing lover, but she liked being used by multiple men. She liked being their release. Joker would never share. She sometimes wondered if Rachel knew that the Joker would never let her leave him.
            Rachel lay in the bed curled up against her lover’s side after they had fucked roughly and passionately. “I like being here with you,” she nuzzled his cheek gently, “I love you so much, Joker.”
            “I love you too,” he whispered.
            “What are you going to do now?”
            “Nothing, at present. I want to lure Gotham into a false sense of security. Then strike.”
            “Why?”
            “It’s fun,” he shrugged.
            “You could get killed,” she frowned. “I don’t want to lose you again.”
            “Marry me,” he rolled on top of her, “please, Rachel. Marry me.”
            Her eyes watered as she looked up at him. If Carter had asked her, all those years ago, the answer would have been yes. And now here was the Joker, his wicked grin piercing her soul as he waited for her answer, “Yes,” she leaned up and kissed him, “I would love to, Joker.”
            “Excellent.”
            He sent Harley out to purchase an engagement ring that he’d designed. She was surprised that Joker was actually marrying Rachel. She was even more surprised that he’d designed a ring for her. But she followed his orders. If this was what he wanted, she wasn’t going to stand in his way. Besides, this would keep her quiet should it be necessary. Harley suspected Rachel wasn’t going to run away, but you could never be sure. Harley was glad Rachel was around. She knew alot about Gotham and Joker used her knowledge to his advantage in plotting future heists. And Rachel was able to keep Joker from doing something stupid, like running out to fight before his wounds had fully healed. She’d never met anyone who could do that. She was very impressed with Rachel.
            Harley returned and found Joker on his own. She handed him the small box, “It’s very nice,” she said.
            “Rachel deserves something as beautiful as she is,” he said. Joker opened it to see it, “Perfect. Think she’ll like it?”
            “I like it. I think most women would. I don’t know her very well, so I can’t say anything.”
            Joker nodded, leaning back. He heard his thugs walking by, “Time for your playdate?”
            Harley laughed. He’d always called her time with his thugs fucking them a ‘playdate’. She liked it. “Not for another hour. They were sent out to buy condoms.”
            Now it was the Joker’s turn to laugh, “You’ve certainly changed. Not the girl I first found, distraught and seeking her next high.”
            “You saved me,” she smiled, touching his knee. “I will always owe you for that.”
            He shrugged, standing and helping her up, “Well have fun. I’m off to give her the gift she deserves.”

            Joker returned to his bedroom, where Rachel was using his laptop. “Porn?”
            “Hardly,” she shook her head at him, her eyes not leaving the screen. “I’m looking up news articles about Batman.”
            “How is your old buddy Brucey?” He sat down on the desk next to the laptop.
            “They’re painting him as worse than you.”
            “How insulting,” he muttered, “I’m way worse than the Bats. I’m offended.”
            Rachel shook her head, looking up at him, “Joker…”
            “I’m not a goody two-shoes, you know,” he leaned down and kissed her, nibbling on her lip, “I thought you liked me like that.”
            “I do,” she got up and wrapped her arms around his neck, “very, very much.”
            “Excellent,” he pushed her to the bed and Rachel fell back on it. “But first, I have a gift for you,” he pulled out the small box and opened it. “I think you’ve deserved this for some time. It just took time to get made,” Rachel stared, eyes wide, as Joker slid the ring onto her finger, “Do I need to ask again?”
            “You know I’ll marry you,” she said, her eyes watering, “Joker, I love you.”
            “I love you too,” he whispered, leaning up to kiss her passionately. “I want you.”
            “I need you,” she pulled him on top of her, “fuck me.”
            “Happily,” he grunted, unzipping his pants while she slid out of her own.
            Rachel knew they couldn’t really be married. She was supposed to be dead. So they didn’t. For Rachel, it was enough knowing that he was with her each night and that he’d had a wedding set made for them to wear. She was happy. And Joker seemed pleased with things the way they were. He arranged a ceremony for the two of them, Harley even went out and got a wedding dress for her.
            She lay in their bed the evening after the ceremony, watching as Joker stripped off his clothes. He moved to her and kissed her. Rachel moaned, letting him lead the kiss.
            “I love you,” she murmured.
            “I love you too,” he said, caressing her cheek. “You are so beautiful, Rachel. So breathtaking.”
            She simply smiled, pulling him on top of her and running her hands down his chest, “I want you, Joker,” she looked up at him, “I know you want me.”
            “Always,” he breathed, the drawl gone as he slid his hands between her legs and positioned himself between them, “this marriage is a formality. You already belong to me, Rachel.”
            “I have for a very long time,” she smiled up at him, kissing him as he slid inside her.
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Duality