(Arthur)

I had never been on a date in my life. I had gone to highschool, sure, but after my mental break at my 23rd birthday I was whisked away to Arkham. Last I remember I was there for four years. Even now I can feel the slight banging on my head on the door. Bored out of my mind and wishing to see another color besides white. My memory never failed me to remember that color of blue I saw one day pass my door. The blue of the flowers one of the male nurses carried. 

Norm was his name.

He always spoke and was nice to me. I liked Norm and Norm liked the secretary, Rachel. Of course Norm liked Rachel in a completely different way I liked him. He was my friend and I always liked hearing his talk about women and how to interact, but I never got many chances when released. Many of the women in Gotham are just like the city. Dirty, hateful, dark, and spiteful. 

Popping my handful of meds I chase them down my throat with water. Leaning onto the cold kitchen counter I look to my mother who slowly eats her oatmeal. Her eyes are fixated on the TV and jumps as the interview begins.

"Happy, look! Thomas Wayne's on TV."

I nod sarcastically replying "Yes, mother. I see."

She usher's me over and I sit on the couch lighting my cigarette. I puff on it leaning back into the couch. Pictures of the three men I shot on the train had flashed up on the screen. My eyes widen a little and I turn up the volume.

"Eye witness said it was a man dressed as a clown that shot the three gentlemen before taking off."

"Marissa." I mumble.

"What's that dear?" my mother asks but I shush her.

Thomas Wayne speaks to the interviewer "I didn't know them personally. They came from good families, well educated, all around three good gentlemen."

"Yeah, right." I think.

The interviewer leans in "Now, it seems to me that the lower class individuals are on the killer's side. Is that correct?"

Thomas Wayne looks uncomfortable but nods "Gotham's lost its way. That's another reason I'm running for Mayor. To help the lower class as well as my own.  I mean, what kind of coward could do something that cold blooded? Someone who hides behind a mask."

I scoff and blow a puff of smoke sitting back. He talks about me like I just sought them out and killed them. Do I feel sorry about killing them? No. Would I do it all again? Yes. But what I did doesn't define who I am. I'm doing sitting here like a good little boy taking his beating. I won't do it anymore. And I won't let her go through it either.

(Marissa)

My body relaxed hearing the "eye witness" replace my name. The last thing I needed on my mind was worrying about some deranged clown coming after me. But, is he really deranged? On the train, he protected me. I can still feel his arm wrap around me as he almost instinctively pushes me behind him. They're making him out to be a monster, but he's not. To me, he's a hero. Is that the right word? Maybe Vigilante suits it more. Or maybe he's neither or potentially all three. A maniactic hero whose vigilante actions saved a girls life. Yeah, that's more like it.

A knock on the door snaps me out of my train of thought. I'm hesitant until I hear it again. Turning the volume down to the TV I wrap my cardigan around my round body and look through the peep-hole. I sigh and open the door.

"Hi." I say.

Arthur smirks with a slight blush "Hi."

I smile back "Hi Arthur."

He stands there awkwardly not saying anything. I lean forward a bit and raise a brow "IIsss everything okay?"

He blinks out of his state and nods "Oh! Yeah, I just-I wanted to see if you wanted to go to the comedy club with me?"

He rubs the back of his neck looking down as if preparing for rejection. I cross my arms and smile "Well I'd hope so. You still owe me after that nasty coffee fiasco." 

Arthur looks up furrowing his brows but see's the smile on my face. His own lips turn up and he nods "I'll pick you up at eight."

AN: Sorry this one was short. The next one will be longer.