tntandgasoline | [RL - A Visit at Lisa's Place]

And he hadn't come to hurt her - not this time. This was just a warning for Jackson, maybe for Lisa too, not that she really needed one. He could and would find them, if he really wanted.

Ah, directness. A good thing, really. "Oh, she told you about that, huh?" An exaggerated sigh as he flipped through a magazine - so boring. "And here I was hoping to be her dirty little secret. I guess not everyone plays by the same rules." He took a sip and grinned wide, ignoring the pull of the stitches. "I did it to prove a point - one that, uh, utterly went over Mr. Gavin's head. Are they still together, by the by? In whatever sense they were to begin with."

He settled down onto the couch, making a dissatisfied noise when it didn't creak under him. Clean, clean, clean. "And no. I'm not always such a nice guy." He pointed at her mildly, still smiling, "I just like to switch things up every so often. It gets so, uh, boring if you just play one note over and over again."

There was the slightest of twitches in her brow when he sat down. She made a mental note to call the steamcleaners - really, they'd just been there... Oh, right, Tommy and Maggie. Refocusing, she mustered a response.

"I don't know what there is between them, Maggie... never seems happy about it," shut your mouth, Lis', you shouldn't be telling him any of this - why was Jackson's voice at the forefront of her mind at a time like this? "What point were you trying to prove?" Good idea, Lisa, turn the spotlight back on him. Keep it away from yourself and Maggie, don't let him ask the questions. He's in your house. The fact that he just confessed to being unpredictable made her hand drop to her side, forearm moving slowly and, hopefully unnoticeably, behind her to touch the corkscrew in her back pocket to insure that it was still there.

He lounged on the sofa, a magazine from her mail open in his lap and his glass in hand. For all appearances, he was completely at home, even though internally he wanted to trash the place. Too plain.

"Tommy is a hard kind of guy to like," he said blandly, chalking up another win for himself in his private game with the firefighter. "I was just trying to prove... mm, that I could be perfectly capable of getting laid when I wanted too. Sorry for the, uh, crude language, but it's the truth. Maggie's a nice girl, so I don't regret it - but I'm just a little surprised that she hangs around an idiot like that."

He glanced vaguely over her, smirking. "Don't worry, I keep my promises." Putting his glass down for a moment, he tugged off his jacket and threw it at her. "Go ahead and look, no knives." Not in his jacket or his socks, but his shoes - well, he only had the one pair. And he wasn't about to stick a woman in the gut with his shoe. That would be rude.

She raised the arm she'd moved back to check for the corkscrew to catch his jacket, but she didn't look through it. Trust? Maybe. Pride? More likely. She set it on the table beside her, either way. Even if there were knives in it, he wasn't getting to them.

"I don't know, I think you just need to be patient with him. But, Maggie's pretty high strung. I think the combination makes it hard for them. But, they're trying, and that's what's important." She explained, taking another drink before continuing. "And, I'm assuming there was absolutely no malice toward Maggie or Tommy in choosing her as the subject of this point." There was irritation apparent in her voice, but it was better that she didn't try to hide it than to do so and fail.

"Believe me, Lisa, I've been as patient as a guy like me can be with him. He's just impossible." Maybe they just got off on the wrong foot. He didn't care, really. "Malice? Towards Maggie? No no no. I like Maggie, and I never sleep with a woman I don't like, anyway." He pointed at her, "I have standards, you know."

Tommy, on the other hand - it wasn't really malice so much as it was the desire to prove him wrong, to prove his stupidity. The man was irritating.

"Y'know, I'm kind of surprised at how... level-headed you seem to be, Lis. Er, Lisa, right? Sorry." He laughed lowly and picked up his glass to down the rest of the wine in one gulp. "Jackson seems to think you're a bit high-strung yourself, but here you are, keeping your cool and arming yourself, even! Very bold." Another fingerpoint.

Her body tensed even more profusely with every point of his finger, and she began to realize that she had gotten in way over her head with this one. Jackson, Jackson had standards. He had rules. Joker didn't. Joker did what he wanted, when he wanted, and he was smarter than he looked - dangerous by any standards. Calling her out on her acquiring a weapon just in case, knowing just what buttons to hit; she had to stop her hand from tightening too severely around her wine glass.

"But, you hurt her. Why would you hurt her if you like her." That didn't bode well for Lisa, considering Joker apparently liked her as well. Why had she brought this up? Oh, right, an attempt to be in control of the situation. "Jackson doesn't know nearly as much about me as he thinks he does." That was a lie. A flat-out, blatant lie, but one that made her feel much better about the fact that he had apparently been running his mouth up and down to Joker. She was hesitant to accept his last comment as an actual compliment - was it meant to be a threat? It felt like one. Intimidation tactics, maybe. No, he wasn't that thoughtful. "It's part of my job description to stay level-headed. Having to deal with Jackson is good practice, you could say." She tried to speak calmly, normally, but there was a slight pitch in her voice of fear.

"I didn't hurt her. If I remember correctly, she hurt me." He laughed throatily again, "I had clawmarks for a week. But no, I didn't hurt her. It's her problem if she can't accept that I was playing a completely different person. Joeseph liked her more than I ever would."

He could tell he'd hit a note, but he wasn't quite sure which one it was. Maybe he needed to bash his hands more carefully up and down the piano. "Jackson is obsessed with you. At least, that's what I got, from the few times I talked to him - plus our little conversation during that truth thing."

He stretched his arms over his head, joints cracking from his knuckles to his shoulders. "Jackson is also nothing like me. I think you probably know that by now, though, with that little, mm, lilt. And now, you're nervous."

The way he was talking about Maggie was disgusting to Lisa, and she didn't hide the fact. But, she was beginning to understand his goal. This was all a matter of taunting her, showing her that she should right well be intimidated by Joker just like she is by Jackson. What did she do to deserve this? Had she been such a terrible person in a past life that this was all karma?

"You say that like I shouldn't be," She had every right to be nervous, the man was terrifying. "And you did hurt Maggie, you played with her heart and you know it." It sounded so childish to be reasoning with this to the Joker. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the stabs at Jackson and how his obsession was not only unhealthy for him, but for her as well. Her work was really starting to be affected, and if this was any indication, her every day life as well. "Don't bring him up. Please, don't bring him up."

The Joker laughed, loudly, like a cackle, and rose to his feet, dusting off his vest easily. "No, you shouldn't be. If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it all ready. And I'm really sorry if Maggie's having conniptions over me having sex with her, but she enjoyed it and that's all that matters." He took to pacing again, a wide circle back towards Lisa, still looking over everything. When he glanced back to see her eyes closed, he frowned.

"Mm. He's done a number on you. Such a shame, you're such a smart girl, and here you are rabbiting over that effeminate idiot. Where's your spine, Lisa?"

His argument was valid enough. There was no reason to beat around the bush, but even wolves liked to play with their food. Still, it was reassuring enough for her to open her eyes and observe him moving closer. She tensed, finishing her glass of wine and taking it as an excuse to walk away, back to the kitchen to refill it.

"For some reason, that's not exactly comforting. And, I have a spine." Jackson hadn't quite taken that from her yet. She wondered vaguely if he had, would she be dead? The amusement factor would be eliminated. The very thought made her knees buckle together weakly and she was suddenly thankful she was behind the counter so that the Joker couldn't see that. "I'm not afraid of him. I've just had more than enough of him from this virus that..." Okay, she was afraid of him. Joker didn't need to know, she needed a better excuse. "That I just don't want to hear anymore about it."

"I suppose you've got more of a spine than some women I've met. Okay, I'll give you that."

He watched her walk away and grinned, moving to follow with vague steps, not really watching where he was going. "All right, then, let's talk about you then. What you want to talk about, I mean."

After pulling the corkscrew from her back pocket, she turned it over in her hands for a moment, then leaned forward and rested her forearms on the counter, looking up at him thoughtfully. That seemed too easy, getting him to drop the subject. She had her doubts about his reasons, but was more than happy to accept the offer anyway.

"Tell me something true about you." The suggestion was out before she could even think to stop herself. It was something that had bothered her for some time. He seemed all too eager to be anyone but whoever he was before the paint and scars and knives. Was Joseph a real name? Someone he'd known? Or, was it a whim? "I don't care what it is, anything."

"Something about me? Flattering, really." He pursed his lips thoughtfully, rolling his eyes in thought. "But how are you gonna know I'm, uh, telling the truth? I mean, I could lie and you'd never know, would you?"

He leaned against the countertop, across from her, smiling blandly in her face. "I'm thirty... six, I think. Give or take a year." And wasn't that true enough? He didn't keep count, but it was close. Probably.

"I really have no choice but to believe you, then, do I?" She looked thoughtful for a moment as she considers his response, then straightens up and goes to uncorking the bottle again to pour herself another glass. "Thirty-six? I'll buy that." Lisa nodded and offered him the uncorked bottle, taking a drink from her glass.

"You could doubt me, but it wouldn't do much good." He takes the bottle from her and reads the label idly, before refilling his glass - more to the top, this time. None of that half-full crap. "So, what did happen to all your little, uh, schoolgirl friends? Nobody ditches everyone they know - unless you're like me. But I don't think that's true."

This question brought about an overall change in Lisa's demeanor - subtle, but very noticeable to anyone who was really looking. Her back straightened, her jaw steeled and she folded her arms in front of her chest - a defensive stance, closing herself off. She could easily lie - tell him she'd moved away, that she'd gone to school in Dallas and come back her to be with her dad, something like that, but on the off chance that he'd actually provided her with an honest answer...

"I'm not the same person I was in college. Circumstances change a person. Some for the better, some for the worse. I stopped answering their calls, and eventually, they stopped calling." Her tone was sad. Not many people knew what it felt like to be given up on. Not like Lisa did. "Maybe sometime Jack can tell you the story." She wondered briefly if he really would give the story. No, he wasn't that cruel.

He only caught bits of the shift, but it piqued his interest. Now, what had happened to her to get such a strong little change? Hmm.

"Aw." It wasn't nearly as patronizing as it probably was supposed to be. "That's not their problem, though, Lisa. You went out of your way to end those relationships, didn't you? And I really gotta wonder why. You seem like such the social butterfly type - well, in your pictures, at least. You have a pretty face, a nice smile, the personality - but something really bugged you." He mulls it over, sipping at the wine before glancing at her. "Was it dear Jackie that caused the change? I mean, you're so defensive about him. And I don't ask other people for gossip unless I can't help it, Lisa."

He sounded just like Jackson and it was maddening. She shifted her weight to her right side - the one furthest from him, trying to gain some distance. As if that would help her come up with a better answer to his question. His assessment, his probing questions and assumptions. Hadn't she just gotten away from this?

She didn't want to talk about it. "I don't want to talk about it," she had been repeating it over and over in her mind - practically screaming it to herself - before it actually came out. "It had nothing to do with Jackson," though he'd like to insert himself into the situation as best he can. Continuously bringing it up... as if it was something she wanted to talk about. No amount of months in therapy had helped, why would Jackson's cold, calculating demeanor? "I've talked about it and I've talked about it and I've been to more therapists than I'd care to admit about it. I'm done talking. It's behind me."

Hmm.

"All right." He shrugs, holding out his hands and turning to go back towards the living room - give her some space. She needed it, she wanted it, and he was smart enough to know that her being defensive would only hinder their little conversation. "No more about that, then! What isn't off topic, Lisa?"

His response was more than a little shocking to her, but Lisa felt relief wash over her first. Had he just dropped the subject? No questions asked, let it slide? Maybe he really wasn't that bad. Her surprise was evident on her face, but moreso interest. She wasn't going to ask. No, that would only drag the matter out and the last thing she needed to think about was that day.

"...Thank you," Her voice was quiet, passive. "I don't know. Plenty of things; the weather? How's work? Actually, I'm pretty sure I don't want to know considering what your work is."

He didn't need to ask about it - not now, at least. Let her take the idea of him being a decent human being with her, spread that to a couple choice people - it all worked out.

"Work, unfortunately, is slow," he said, ignoring the last comment in favor for a more... interesting topic. Something level. "Most of it is just, uh, wordsmithing, really." He turned to face her, leaning against the back of the couch. "And what about your work, Lisa? A hotel, right?"

"What do you mean by wordsmithing?" Lisa inquired, not waiting for an answer before she went on to give one of her own. "Yeah, I'm the manager of the Lux Atlantic." A recent promotion, really, but one that she'd easily transitioned into. "It's... also, slow. But, you know how the economy is." It felt so strange, to be sitting there speaking casually with the Joker.

"Writing editorials, notes, little things like that." Orders, like executive ones given out to his main group of Bobo's and Giggles'. Those weren't important, though. "The economy in Gotham has always been shitty - can't say I've really noticed, to be honest. At least you don't have to worry about the mob taking over your economy, right?" He chuckled. "And how is it, working in a hotel? I bet you get some, uh, real unsavory people in there." The Lux may be a nice place, but people rarely fit their surroundings.

"There are no customers who are assholes," Lisa recited, "only customers with special needs." She didn't even sound like she meant it - she couldn't even manage that much. This virus had pushed her to the breaking point and it was a damn good thing she didn't do much work at the front desk anymore. "It can be trying, in terms of patience, but you also get the opportunity to meet a lot of people. Guests aside, there are conventions and events held in the ballrooms that need to be coordinated." He wasn't really interested - or at least, she assumed he wasn't. Hell, she wasn't sure she was really interested. It was just... what she did. So, she shut up.

He took a swig - not how you're supposed to drink wine, but he was never one for the norm, right? - and eyed her. "That kind of rhetoric will eat you alive, sweetheart." Mm, no, that wasn't the right petname, really. He needed something more mature than that. Doll, but that would be too close to Crane, who was too close to Jackson - hm.

"Is that what you wanted to do, Lisa? Run a big, fancy hotel?"

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