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Ashes, Ashes	By : JaneKrahe Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 6446 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Barbara stretched, and winced. Every muscle in her body ached. She opened her eyes and saw that she was in her own bed, a towel wrapped around her still-naked body. She sat up, and saw her original clothes folded on the bedside table. She dressed, then went to the door, wondering where Joker was. Where Eric was. Barbara couldn’t decide which name she liked more, or which face she preferred. He was beautiful, but that Joker makeup was sexy, in a weird way.

She walked out the door, headed down to Joker’s room. She knocked, but no one answered. She shrugged, and headed down the stairs, thinking he’d gone to the ballroom.

But he wasn’t there, either.

She was just about to head outside, when she heard sirens. What the hell? she thought. She went to go outside, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned, and saw Joker standing behind her. “Crane went to your daddy,” he whispered, watching out the window at the approaching lights of a squadron of police cars. He took her hand and placed his knife in it. “Put the knife to my throat,” he told her.

“Are you crazy?” she hissed.

“Just a little,” he whispered back. “But if you’d gotten the best of me, I’m less likely to be shot by some overzealous rookie… or your daddy.”

“Good point,” she said, and grabbed him by the hair. She pulled, and he grinned at her.

“Pull too hard, doll, and daddy will have something else to shoot me for.”

She rolled her eyes, then put the knife to his throat just as the police came bursting through the doors.

She felt hands pull her away from Joker, and she tried not to grab him, tried not to show that she wanted to stay with him. She turned, and saw Harvey Dent run towards her, his face a mask of anxiety. Barbara felt numb as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh, my God, Barbara,” he gasped. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

She looked over Harvey’s shoulder, at Joker being put in cuffs. He was watching them, and by the look on his face, he didn’t like what he saw. “No,” she said. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Barbara spent the next three hours at the hospital, telling doctor after nurse after doctor that, no, she did not need medical attention, she was not in any pain, and she most definitely did *not* want a rape kit.

Finally, she was allowed to leave. Her father, a large, gruff man in his fifties, came to pick her up. “Where do you want to go, Hon?” he asked.

“Can I go to the station, watch the interrogation?” she asked.

“Absolutely not,” Gordon said. “There’s no reason for you to - “

“Dad!” Barbara said sharply. “Let me rephrase this - I am going to go watch the interrogation.”

Gordon sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Joker sat in the interrogation room. It was half-lit, as if they were trying to scare him. The only thing that worried him was what Barbara was going to say. If she denied that she was kidnapped, they had nothing they could hold him on, and he would be let go. But if she didn’t… he didn’t want to think about it. He looked over at the two-way mirror. It had been cracked at some point, and now was just a window. Harvey Dent was standing there, his arms crossed, glaring at Joker. He smirked at him, and waved. Dent gave him the middle finger. Just then, a man came in, carrying a lab folder. Now, what was that about? Dent opened it, and started reading. Joker watched as his face darkened. He flipped it shut, then looked at Joker. The look in his eyes screamed murder.

Oh, shit, Joker thought. What the hell was in that file?

Gordon came in then, and Dent handed him the file. Gordon’s reaction was the same. They looked at each other, then strode together into the interrogation room.

“Evening, Commissioner,” Joker said.

Dent slammed the file down on the steel table. “You raped Barbara Gordon.”

Now that, he wasn’t expecting. “Um… no I didn’t,” Joker replied, confused.

“We found your DNA mixed with hers on a bed on the top floor,” Dent said, pacing like an angry cat. “The DNA from you was seminal. You raped my fiancé.”

Fiancé? Joker hadn’t known that. “Sorry, Harvey, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There was a knock on the door. The same lab guy came in, this time empty handed. “Well?” Gordon demanded. “Where is it?”

The man, more of a boy, really, glanced nervously at Joker before saying quietly, “Sir, um, Ms. Gordon refused a rape kit.”

Inwardly, Joker was sighing in relief. Thank you, Barbara, he thought. He must have smiled, because Dent turned to him and snapped, “Wipe that smirk off your face, freak.”

Freak, huh? “Look, Mr. Dent, I understand why you’re angry. A girl like Barbara Gordon would never sleep with me willingly, right? But then, if I’d raped her, why would she refuse to allow you to collect evidence?”

“Why, indeed,” Harvey said.

Joker shrugged, his eyebrows raised. “Maybe you should ask her.” He turned. She was standing at the window, her arms crossed, watching them. He smiled slightly at her, and was pleased to see her smile back.

Harvey noticed this exchange. He slammed his hand on the table. “Don’t you look at her, you look at me!”

Joker turned back to him. “Why, Harvey,” he said slyly, “I had no idea.”

Harvey looked like he wanted to hit him, but Gordon held him back. “Let’s go talk to Barbara,” he said. “She’ll testify, then we’ll get this maniac behind bars for good.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Barbara watched her father and Harvey exchange some very angry words with Joker, then watched them leave the room. They walked into the adjoining room, the one she stood in.

“Is it true, Barbara?” her father asked.

“Is what true?”

Harvey stepped forward and asked, “Why did you refuse a rape kit?”

“Uh… because I wasn’t raped,” she said. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Are you sure?” her father asked.

Barbara had to laugh at him. “Dad, I think I’d know if I was raped or not, and if I was, I’d want the bastard behind bars.” She watched them exchange a dark look, and became suspicious. “Alright, what the hell is up with you two?”

Harvey sighed. “Barbara, we found your DNA at his hideout - “

“Yeah, you would, Harvey, I was there for - “

“ - in his bed.” He glanced at Gordon, then continued. “We found your DNA mixed with his DNA, and…” Harvey didn’t seem to be able to finish.

Gordon stepped forward, placing his hands on his daughters arms. “Just tell me, sweetie,” he said, looking desperate, “just tell me you didn’t let that freak touch you.”

Barbara wrenched angrily from her father’s grasp. “He’s not a freak,” she spat, “and I let him do a lot more than that.” What happened next caught her off-guard. Harvey took a step forward and slapped her across the face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Joker, who’d been watching the exchange, rise to his feet and take several steps toward the window. He looked pissed. Barbara put her hand to her jaw, and turned to Harvey. “You’re pathetic,” she said. Turning to her father, she continued, “And by the way. The Joker didn’t kidnap me; I went willingly. And he certainly didn’t rape me.” She took a step forward, getting in her father’s face. “You have nothing to hold him with. Let… him… go.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Joker was furious. What a fucking coward. The great Harvey Dent, Gotham’s white knight, slapping a woman across the face. He wanted nothing more than to beat his way through that window and strangle him to death with his bare hands. And he would have, but at that moment all three of them left the room. He sat back down. He was nervous and twitchy now, as he always got when he wanted to kill and was denied.

He couldn’t sit still, so he stood again and began pacing. What a fucking mess. Joker thought he was free of police stations. He always hated visiting his father at work; then, after his mother’s… after his mother, he’d spent the next few months in and out of different precincts, trying to find one where his father wasn’t known, where there’d be no “conflict of interest”.

Fat chance. His father got ten years in jail. But it was alright. Because Joker had found him after he was released on parole. He laughed to himself as he remembered it. He’d found his father in some shitty little apartment on lower 5th. Prison hadn’t treated him well. Why should it? He was a cop; half those men were there because of him.

Joker remembered breaking in, finding his father sitting at a tiny little table in the half-assed kitchen, nursing a bottle of cheap whiskey. He’d walked in, and the old man hadn’t even turned. His voice drifted up from the bottle, gruff and raspy. “The TV’s already been lifted,” he said, “and I don’t got no money. Get your fix somewhere else.”

Joker had laughed then, and the sheer manic sound of it had caused his father to turn and look at him. “You!” His father had jumped up, spilling his bottle of liquor all over the cheap linoleum floor.

Joker took a few steps forward. “Me,” he said, raising his hands. He was only nineteen at the time, and hadn’t started wearing the grease paint yet. But the scars were startling enough, and that had to be how he recognized him. What other kid had those kinds of scars? “How’ve you been?” he’d asked, his voice a deadly sort of cheerful.

His father seemed unable to answer. He wasn’t drunk; the man had a super-human tolerance for alcohol. He was… broken. Joker laughed, but he was closer to tears. “This is it?” he’d yelled. “This is the monster that took my mother away? Look at me!” he’d bellowed. He’d seen his father, the big, scary policeman, startle at the sound of his son’s voice. “Why?” Joker had asked. “Why?”

His father shook his head. “I - “ his voice cracked. “I… don’t know.”

Joker had shaken his head. “You’re pathetic, old man.”

He’d turned, and walked away.

His father had hung himself that night, about an hour after Joker had left.

He felt the justice was beautiful.

Joker nearly jumped out of his skin when the door to the interrogation room slammed open. Dent and Gordon came striding in. “So, did you talk to sweet Lady Gordon?” Joker asked with a smirk.

Dent looked ready to hit him, but Gordon stepped forward. “We’re letting you go, freak. Make sure we don’t see you again.”

Joker couldn’t believe his luck. Dent moved forward, and un-cuffed Joker’s wrists. “Well, have a very nice life Mr. Dent, though I’m probably correct in saying it won’t be with sweet Lady Gordon.” He walked out the door, reveling in the looks on Dent and Gordon’s face.

Waiting for him outside, next to a taxi, was Barbara. She smiled when she saw him. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he replied, suddenly nervous.

“Um… do you have somewhere to go?” she asked him.

He thought about it. “Well, I can’t go back to the old hotel,” he said. “I suppose… I’ll just have to find some apartment somewhere.”

“You, um…” she stepped forward and straightened his tie, “you could… come home with me.”

Joker sighed. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But what would it do to her? He was a cold-blooded killer, and still had a few ideas about how to screw with Gotham. It would be better for her… better for her life… if he simply stayed away. “I can’t,” he said quietly.

Her face fell, and it was almost enough to change his mind. Almost. “Goodbye, Barbara,” he said.

“Bye,” she whispered. He got in the cab, and drove away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Barbara opened the door to her apartment. The lights were out, but she didn’t bother to turn them on. The streetlights were bright enough. She tossed her keys on the table and sighed. It had been two weeks since her little fiasco with the Joker, and her father still wasn’t speak to her. Neither would Harvey, but then, she didn’t really want to talk to him.

She took off her coat and threw it on the couch. She was exhausted. The force was out chasing some new baddie, calling herself Poison Ivy. Barbara had been putting in some long nights. She headed to the bedroom, planning to crawl under the sheets and pass out.

But there, in the faint light from her window, was something sitting on her pillow. She stepped forward and peered at it. A single, blood-red rose lay on the white cotton. She picked it up, and something fell off it; she thought it was a card. She bent down and picked it up.

It *was* a card, but not the kind she thought. It was a Joker’s card.

Her heart quickened, and she turned slightly. “Are you there?” she whispered.

She heard footsteps behind her, and she turned around.

Joker smiled at her. “What can I say?” he said with a shrug. “You’re irresistible.”

THE END

…

OR IS IT?

~Hey, kiddos, it's not entirely the end. Thanks to your responses, am planning at the very least a one-shot detailing how Joker and Barbara's relationship will work ong-term. And possibly a complete sequel, if you like the next short. Luvs!~
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Ashes, Ashes