I Started a Joke

Chapter 9

"Let me get this straight. First you got kidnapped by this old mobster whose son you got killed. Next you managed to escape the guy only to get kidnapped again by the Batman. Then that dusty bat dropped you off at an orphanage and you escaped from there cause some rich prick wanted to take you home. That about right?" Deadshot nonchalantly asked for clarification of my tale while scratching at his beardless chin.

Deadshot appears younger without his beard. His clothes are bit worn out too.

"Yup. Just a regular day in the life of Lucy Quinn." I merrily skipped alongside my idol, cold fingers jammed in my pockets. Still trying to pretend everything is just dandy for him, don't want him to think I can't handle a little cold.

"That's some crazy shit for a regular kid to get into....Quinn...Quinn. I feel like I've heard that name before." Deadshot took a corner and led me into a deserted alleyway. I followed him without a care. I trust the hitman, not the thugs trying to rob me. Deadshot has a moral code of not killing women or children that he strictly adheres to. These nobodies stalking me have no such code, anybody is fair game to them.

"You've probably heard that name from my Mama. My parents are kinda famous and I'm no regular kid. I'm the Joker's and Harley Quinn's only daughter." I edged behind Deadshot as he turned to face the three stalkers.

"W-What?" He stuttered.

"That's my secret Mistah and I've got a job for you if want." I eyeballed the sketchy thugs, with my luck this might be a reoccurring thing. "If you can get me safely back home I'll pay you an escort fee."

"H-Hold up. You don't get to breeze over what you said. I didn't even know those clowns had a kid let alone that they can procreate." Deadshot turned his back tot he stalkers to bombard me with questions about Papa and Mama.

Hmm. He is not as calm and collected as I remember him being form the movie. His attitude is different and he's clearly on the poorer side of life. I'm guessing he hasn't become Deadshot yet than. What a shame. Or maybe a blessing in disguise. I am getting to see the before picture of Floyd Lawton, the one that's still nicely malleable.

"Mistah those guys are gonna kill us if you don't do something." I pointed behind us to the three guys getting ready to pounce with pipes and guns. These guys came amply prepared. I only have one knife left and it's not going to be much use against guys twice my size when I don't have the element of surprise.

"This discussion ain't over, doll face...Hold this for me." Deadshot took off his hat and gingerly placed it in my hands, before whipping around and socking one of the guys in jaw, knocking him out cold with one punch.

The other two guys screeched in rage and pounced on Deadshot. A pipe came descending down on a path to Deadshot's face, but the arm holding the pipe was easily swatted away followed by a sickening crunch as the guy's wrist was broken. Deadshot let go his victim's wrist and kicked him into a dumpster, slowly cocking his head in the last guy's direction mutely asking if he was next. The last guy wearily stood in front of Deadshot weighing his options; to attack or not to attack, considering his two accomplices were skillfully taken out in seconds. Deadshot took a small step in the guy's direction. The guy more intent on making it out undamaged turned tail and ran, abandoning his partners.

Coward. Take your beating like a man.

"That was wonderful! And you didn't even use your guns." I joyfully clapped, mindful of the hat in my hands. What an astounding show I was just witness to. Now that is what I call action. Bravo! Encore!

Deadshot calmly walked over and took his hat back form me. "How do you know I'm packing?"

"I saw your hands twitching towards your sides multiple times while you were fighting. Why didn't you shoot them if that's what you wanted? I wouldn't have screamed." My blues eyes met his brown ones.