Jigsaw Puzzle || The Joker x Reader

➟ Chapter Seven

You settled into your new workplace fairly easily as it honestly felt to you as simple as breathing. You got along with all of them, which you knew was only temporary because they would probably die at some point in the near future, knowing how The Joker was. Speaking of, while you were getting acquainted with your new colleagues, Joker went off to his office on his personal floor.

You waved them off and waltzed up to where he was located. There was four different rooms on the floor and you checked three--a bedroom, a weapons room, and a locked door, which you assumed was his room. You walked into the last room and immediately had a gun pulled on you from behind the oak desk across the room, then a bullet hitting the wall near your head but you didn't flinch.

"Down, boy," you said, shutting the door behind you.

"Knock before you enter," Joker warned, slowly returning his gun on to the surface of his desk where a scattter of papers laid.

"I don't know about that. Partners don't knock," you replied.

You pulled up a chair and sat in it, then kicked your feet up on the desk. You reached forward, snatched up piece of paper, and reveled in the snarl you watched morph Joker's scarred lips. You read it over and nodded your head afterwords in agreement.

"You're planning on raiding Bruce Wayne's mansion?" you asked for confirmation.

"Yes," Joker hissed and stared at the other papers.

You sighed, sat up, and leaned your elbows on the table. Joker was concentrated on the papers and files while sending you quick scowls. You guessed that he wasn't playful when there was business to be attended to, and that somewhat shocked you that he genuinely was trying.

You hadn't known the man long at that point, but knew what he was about and you knew he understood you to an extent. Even after knowing him for only a couple days, you didn't like seeing him so damn focused and upset.

You outstretched your hands and placed your fingers on the corners of his mouth but not touching his scars, and tilted them upwards. Joker's body went rigid and his eyes flipped to yours as you grinned at him.

"Why so serious?"

Right away, Joker threw your hands away from him and the same gun that almost shot you was pressed to your forehead. Adrenaline rushed through you but it didn't show on your face as you calmly stared into the gaze of a mad clown. Tension crackled in the air as the cold metal sizzled against your hot skin, then Joker stood up to glare down at you.

"Do it," you whispered sadistically as you folded your arms over each other. "Just pull the trigger."

"Don't try to play crazy with me; I'm a lot better at it," he said vehemently. "Why are you acting like this?"

"I already told you," you responded. "Does it bother you to see someone act the way you do? Is it truly alarming to have a mirror held up for you to see how you are?"

Joker nearly dropped his gun at that but managed to aggressively slam it on the wood. He ruffled his tinted green hair and let out a feral growl of frustration.

"Has this all been you playing doctor with me?" he accused angrily.

You shrugged. "Maybe a little," you claimed condescendingly.

Joker studied you closely, thoroughly, and wondered how deceiving you really were under your actions and words. He returned to his chair and went back to looking over his papers as if the prior incident didn't happen at all. You were less than surprised.

"Wayne Manor. There's a party happening next month and we have invited ourselves," Joker informed casually. "These are the blueprints of the estate."

"Quite the schemer, are you?"

"I'm in the closet about it."

After a pause, you both burst out laughing at his statement and the atmosphere was cleared of the heavy tension it held. You spent the next two hours going over the plans for the raid and you each were startled at how cohesive your ideas blended together. For The Joker, it was refreshing to not be surrounded by idiots who didn't understand analysis and how to organize a crime.

"I'm starving," you complained, "and it's almost midnight. Let's be done and get some food."

Joker didn't agree or disagree. You stood at the same time and walked in silence downstairs and into the abandoned main room as the goons went to their own floor to sleep or take guarding shifts. While you went to scour the fridge, Joker swung off his long coat and draped it over the back of a chair that he then sat in. You found a half-eaten box of pizza and heated up the remaining pieces.

You took the hot plate over to the dining table and set it between you and Joker as you claimed the seat across from him. You each grabbed a slice and got in to a discussion about the terrible but fun things you had done.

"Did he scream?" you asked, biting into your second piece.

"Louder than a hyena," Joker answered with a cackle. "Every little cut, he howled for mercy."

Joker had taken off his purple gloves to eat and you could see the smeared and stained make-up on his hands. When you peered at his face again, it made you wonder what he looked like under the mask of color and the one he held in his mind, because one thing you learned was that no matter how much someone expressed themself, they were never fully truthful with who they were.

"One time at the shooting range when I was about eight, I missed the target and the bullet ricocheted off the metal pole and hit one of my dad's guys in the shoulder. He was so proud," you said with a snicker at the memory replaying in your head.

"Something similar happened to me, except I shot my dad on purpose," Joker responded casually, shoving the pizza crust in his mouth.

You swallowed. "Why did you kill him, J?"

You had this connection with The Joker over the past few days. You two were open and relaxed with the type of people you were, which made talking and interacting much easier. It was clear you both knew suffering, pain, and hardships, but it was a different matter altogether to let the words of them out because neither of you were very good with earnest emotions.

"He was a gambler and killed my mom, so I returned the favor," he explained with ease.

"Was that your first kill?" you inquired as if it were normal smalltalk.

Joker appeared a bit emotional for the first time ever. It was the flash in his pupils that set your internal alarms off because you figured you were treading into uncharted territory with a hungry lion ready to pounce.

"Yeah," he muttered.

You didn't speak as he pushed his chair back, gripped his coat, and stalked out of the room without sparing you a glance. You were left alone with only the whispers of your own racing thoughts and questioning how two people perceived as psychopaths could act so civil without the outside world ever knowing that truth.