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 The Marionette (Fan-fic)

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PostSubject: The Marionette (Fan-fic)   May 13th 2017, 8:22 pm

The pain of the needle barely registered as she sat in the chair that was usually reserved for her clients. The red lines of the grinning smile she was currently applying finishing touches to on her left thigh would serve as a macabre reminder. A grizzly remembrance that she took no one’s shit. Propped up against the chair in the corner, was the current supplier of the red hue she was using as substitute for the red ink she would have normally used. Slowly, her silver-grey eyes shifted upward from her work and locked onto the twisting grin permanently etched into the man’s face, made be the scissors she had grabbed from Grim’s station. That had been after she had jabbed him in both eyes with the tattoo gun. The man shouldn’t have walked in like he owned the place, owned her. No one owned her.

Well now. If that isn’t a sight for sore eyes.

The husky voice that drifted in from the doorway immediately sent a chill down her spine, but it wasn’t from fear. It was more like anticipation. She had known as soon as she saw the Joker card tattoo on the inside of the man’s right wrist, but that had been after she had already mutilated the poor bastard.

He shouldn’t have put his hands on me.” She explained simply, turning her eyes back down towards her thigh and the tattoo she was finishing up.

That tell-tale chuckle let her know exactly who was standing in her doorway.

I wasn’t talking about him, doll.”

She finally glanced in his direction. Sure enough, Gotham’s infamous Clown Prince of Crime had graced her with his presence. His piercing gaze swept over the exposed flesh of her left leg, starting at the tip of her dark purple painted toe nails and moving slowly upwards to her hip.

Marionette.” She stated, setting the tattoo gun down on the small silver tray beside her chair. “My name is Marionette, not doll.”

The Joker turned those calculating eyes to her face, taking in the strange exotic beauty. Full lips were painted such a dark purple they were almost black. Long, thick lashes framed silver-grey eyes that were nearly metallic. There was a small, stylized M tattooed at the corner of her left eye but was currently hidden by a few unruly strands of black hair.

Many people would have flinched or shied away from his bold stare, but this woman did not. In fact, she met his gaze head on and with just as much intensity as he did with other people. It surprised him in a way. No one dared to be so brash and so bold with the infamous Joker.

Biff here, was late for an important appointment. I came to see what was keeping him.”

No you didn’t. You came because I killed one of your men. Your goons have been keeping tabs on this place for some time. I’ve noticed them watching.” She replied, expertly adding ointment to the freshly inked tattoo on her thigh. When it was finally cleaned, she glanced up and saw that he was staring down at the back of his left hand. Her gaze drifted to follow his line of sight and noticed that nearly the same grin was etched onto the skin. Was it by happenstance that they had nearly the same tattoo?

Perceptive of you. Tell me, precious, what is to keep me from killing you now?”

Absolutely nothing, but let me inform you that you will have one hell of a fight on your hands, J. I am not a cowering wall flower.” Marionette stood and slid her leg back into the form hugging black yoga pants she had been wearing.

That only makes things much more interesting.” The grin that passed across his red tinged lips should have been enough to make her run for the hills, so he was nearly taken aback when she moved closer towards him, stepping into his personal space.

Interesting, hm? Yes, I supposed they will be interesting.”

Without warning, he struck first, swinging the cane he carried in a swift and violent horizontal arc towards her head. She ducked at the last moment and came up swinging. Her small closed fist connected with the underside of the Joker’s jaw, snapping his head back just enough that his metallic teeth clicked audibly.

Feisty. I like that.” He purred, tossing his cane aside. He removed the long dark purple leather coat he wore, dropping it casually onto the floor as they circled one another. It had been a long time since he had met someone more than willing to dance to his tune and from what he had gathered from not only his goons, but the residence of the Narrows, Marionette was a woman he could dance with on equal footing.

Perhaps at first but you will find that I won’t break, J. I will not cower.” This time it was her turn to attack. She full on rushed him, her shoulders catching his mid-section harshly and sending them both flying into the nearby wall. The Joker’s back hit with enough force to crack the plaster.

With a growl, he reached down and tangled his gloved hand into her hair, yanking her head back harshly.

Come on now, J, don’t threaten me with a good time if you don’t have the stones to back it up.”

That was when he felt the sting of a blade in his left thigh. She had stabbed him. Everything about this woman seemed to confuse his radar and he hadn’t been aware of any weapons on her person. Glancing down, he noticed the knife protruding from his leg several inches above the knee. That was when it clicked. She wasn’t trying to kill him. She was asserting herself as an equal, as his equal.

That little quarrel had been several months ago, the first time he had ever set eyes on her in person and since then, Joker hadn’t been able to get the feisty little minx out of his mind. His thoughts were chaotic enough without the distraction, but now they were worse. With a groan and a click of his metal teeth, he ran the palms of his tattooed hands over his face in hopes of wiping away the memories of Marionette. It hadn’t helped. J adjusted the tailored black slacks as they had suddenly become cumbersome and nearly unbearable. There was something about that woman that made him…crave. He was the one to make others crave his attention, even cower in fear but she did neither. Well, maybe perhaps she did crave his attention, but if she did, she certainly wasn’t showing it.

Boss.” Frost, the Clown Prince’s right hand man entered the room after a single, solid knock.

What?” He practically snapped, swiftly stabbing the top of the desk with the knife he held in his left hand.

You wanted an update on that tattoo artist? The one who offed Jim.

”What of her?

We had to run some interference. It seems Penguin’s men paid her a visit. Took her to the warehouse. We couldn’t get much of the conversation. It seems they have been pestering her for some time and she had enough.

What happened, Frost?” J inquired, practically leaping from his chair. He leaned menacingly over the desk, palms flat against the surface. If any of them had harmed a hair on her head…

She handled the matter herself, J. Took out those goons like a professional. When we were finally able to get in the warehouse, she was hanging upside down from the rafters, dropping knives down onto the men that were still alive, laughing while they screamed.

It started off as an amused chuckle, but it quickly turned into full blown laughter. An arm wrapped itself around his stomach and he pitched forward with the tremors of his amusement.

That will certainly teach that flippered little weasel to mess with her.” As soon as he his laughter died down to snickering, J straightened himself. “Ready the car, Frost. I think it is time we paid her another visit.

You think that’s wise, Boss? Last time she stabbed you.

That was merely foreplay. If she wanted me dead, she would have killed me a while ago.

Sure thing, Boss, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay in the car.


The rolling heat enveloped her nearly the minute she finished putting away her equipment. She didn't have to look up into the large mirror in front of her to know who it was that was standing beind her. The scent of his cologne was a dead give away, a musky expensive smell that nearly made her toes curl.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, J?" She inquired, lining up all her equipment in precise order.

He growled faintly, almost as if he was using that as a silent command for her attention. When she finally looked up into the mirror at him, the Joker felt his heart slam almost painfully in his chest. Forget whatever Harley had been to him this woman, Marionette was the one. He felt it deep in his bones, a calling of some sort, almost as if this insane creature held the key to his lock.

"The Penguin." He said in a soft growling tone as he moved closer towards her, almost crowding her into the table that sat before the large mirror.

Marionette visibly stiffened, her back going ram-rod straight. He watched her fingers attempt to grab for something sharp, anything in the off chance that he posed a threat to her, but it was not the threat of violence he offered. Without warning, he moved swiftly, trapping her between the table and the front of his body, his hands gripping firmly on each of her wrists to keep them in place on the surface of the table.

"Relax, M." He purred, metal teeth coming dangerously close to the lobe of her ear. "I want to know what he wants from you."

Her piercing silver eyes met his in the mirror and a single dark brow quirked almost quizzically. She supposed she could indulge the Clown Prince's curiousity. His goons had come to her rescue, or sorts. She supposed she owed him that much.

"Flipper has had his eyes on this shop for sometime. Longer than you have, J. When his goons saw your men sniffing around, he thought it would be a wise move if he tried to get his flippers into my pockets. He guessed wrong."

J chuckled softly against her ear, and it sent a nearly visible tremor down her spine. "Mmm." He purred again, delighted that she reacted to him so hypersensitively. "Why did you not simply give him what he wanted?"

M snorted faintly, turning her head so that she faced him, their lips mere inches from the other's. "I belong to no one, J."

"That will have to be changed." He whispered, his gaze pinned on the purple perfection of her lips. "Without my protection, that flippered weasel will continue to hound you. I wouldn't put it past him to demolish this lovely shop of yours just to prove his point."

The horrified, wide-eyed look that took over those exotic eyes of hers was enough to have such a hardened criminal like the Joker turning to mush. "For a price, doll, you will be offered my protection."

Suspicion clouded her expression. "What's your price, J?"

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