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What a Little Moonlight Can Do

Chapter Text

She heard the explosion while getting a glass of water. Always the type to walk toward what most everyone else ran from, she immediately went for the front door. The apartment was a joke - tiny, dirty, and in a bad neighborhood. It was the sort of place no decent girl walked about at night alone, but the air was electric, and she liked it.

Peering though the small window on the front door she could see chaos: police cars, a fire engine, and lots of smoke. Just then she saw him, a flash of kinetic energy bound in a deep purple suit. She gasped. Is it actually him? She thought while craning to get a better look. The flush washed over her and she could feel her skin grow warm. He was taller that she though, with a sort of swagger. He looked around, animated but with precision, his moves cautious.

This was not at all the way he had been described on television. There was a definite method to all this. She sat at the door mumbling, "You better hurry up. They're coming any second now." Biting her lower lip, she paused. He slowly made his way up the narrow walk which comprised her street while looking about for strategy.

You could hear the police now, even inside her apartment. Splitting up, checking every building, and leaving no stone unturned. Still, she found herself actually worried she might be captured. I mean sure, the theatric thing was kinda hot, but this guy's a criminal . She pondered what he's really capable of when he appeared directly in front of her door. He had inched his way down the block and now stood with his back directly in front of her.

Almost instinctual, she threw the lock off the door, swung it open and grabbed the back off his coat pulling him into her apt. She closed the door and locked it just as he regained his balance. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, quizzical expression pouring over his face. "We don't have time for this." she replied, "They're coming, so if you want to get out of this follow me."

Ignoring his expression, she blew past him and into her room. "This apartment used to be a gin mill. There's this sort of cellar thing." she began. "Nothing like a descriptive storyteller!" he replied, mildly out of breath.

"Yes, well, you can hide in there until they stop looking." She moved a rug to exposed a small latch-lift door and reached for the latch. One good tug and it lifted to expose a small stairway. "Its very small and there's no light, but in a pinch it will do. Hurry!"

He started for the stairs. "I'm not afraid of the dark." he responded dryly, "but who in the Hell are you?" She stopped, and for first time really thought about what she was doing. With a nervous laugh she replied, "I'm a fan of chaos." There was a knock at the door which abruptly ended the exchange. He ducked and she lowered the door, replacing the rug to hide it. She then grabbed her robe and walked toward the door.

"Gotham PD! Hello?" the voice boomed from beyond the door. Psyching herself up, she reached for the door, leaving the chain in place. "Yeah...hello?" She said, drowsily. She rubbed her eyes and attempted to ham this up as much as she could.

"Yes ma'am, there is a large scale manhunt for the murderer known as 'The Joker' in this neighborhood and we would like to have a look in your apartment if you don't mind." She stretched, "It's 3:30 in the morning, and I haven't let anyone in."

"Ma'am he might be in your apartment without you even being aware of it." She closed the door to remove the chain, thinking to herself I'd like to thank the academy... before half yawning, "I highly doubt that, but feel free to look around." She walked into her bedroom, stopping just on top of an old fashioned rag rug near the bathroom door.

The police walked through each room, checking under the bed and the closet before radio back that section 9 was clear. They thanked her for her time and cautioned her to keep her doors and windows securely locked. "Ok guys, good luck finding the Puzzler or whatever his name is." she said, throwing a half-hearted wave out as she slammed the door.

A smile spread enormous as she made her way back to the rug. She grabbed the door and lifted as the Joker sprang from the hole. The force of it knocked the already squatting hoarder backwards onto her behind. "So now all you have to do is hang out until they clear out, which shouldn't be too-" she began, but was cut off by a very irate psychopath.

"The Puzzler???" he demanded. "The...Puzz...ler?" He stomped past her and sat at the end of her bed. "Don't you know who I am?" She was stunned. His pride was wounded, the man who has terrorized the entire city for months and he's moping because of something she had said.

This was insane she thought, but it has to be fixed. First of all, its just bad manners. He's a guest and all. Second, he's a nutbar capable of wearing my head like a hat. She chuckled inexplicably at that thought, and lifting her head noticed he was staring at her.

"Oh course I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. You're the clown prince of crime, for God's sake." she purrs, rolling onto her knees and creeping toward the bed where he sat. "I was just mocking the police, that's all."

"You mocked me." he murmured, licking his lips. "You shouldn't mock people. It can get you into trouble. Speaking of which, you wanna know how I got these scars?" She made her way over crawling, having shed the robe and stopped before him, resting her cheek on his knee. "I'm dying to know." she exclaimed, breathlessly.

He turned his head and began fidgeting with one of his many knives. "You're still mocking me." he huffed, pointing with his knife, "I don't like it, I don't, I don't like being mocked." She giggled impishly, "I'm not, I promise, really I'm not." She straightened and began to part his legs and scoot closer to him. "What are you doing?" he asked, perhaps genuinely surprised.

"I upset you." she responded coolly, then looking right at him, "Let me make it up to you." Before waiting for approval she began to unbutton his slacks and slide down to onto her knees. He sat there incredulous, then brought the knife to her chin and brought her eyes to his. "I could cut your face right off at any moment." he huffed through clenched teeth. She squinted, nodding her respectful understanding.

"Then I guess I better do a good job then." To show her understanding, she run her tongue across the edge of the knife, which he then pulled away. He looked at her and as she smiled, he laughed maniacally. She took a deep breath and went to work, he closed his eyes and exclaimed, "You are something different. I like it."

Chapter Text

It had been three days since he had left her apartment, but she couldn't stop thinking about him. The smell of him had gone from her fingers and bed, and she started listening to the news to catch word of him. She even found herself getting a rush at the smell of gasoline. The worst of it was that since harboring her madman, something seemed to turn the volume way down of her normal life. Natural, it seemed, was no longer in it.

On the fourth day, after leaving work early and rushing home, she found herself again sitting in a long shower lost in thought. Inexplicably, she reached for the hot tap and began turning right. The water grew colder until it was singularly, and frigidly so. As the deluge of icy cold water poured over her, her body bucked and shivered, but her mind sharpened.

It wasn't love she felt for this man. He man her feel alive. It was lust, pure lust that she was craving and in that moment it all made sense. The water no longer felt unpleasant, but normal, because anything shocking becomes normal once you stop resisting it.

Finding him was proving to be a right bitch. After all, it isn't as though you can look him up in the phone book. Luckily for her, simply asking around for the Joker usually put people off, so most didn't bother her. She finally got an address to an abandoned building in Crime Alley, and after a shower and change was on her way to either confront her catalyst, or die in a lot of pain.

The building was old, boarded up and deserted. The sort of place few would enter, so perfect for Gotham's Most Wanted. She rounded the back of the building and found the steps to an old storm cellar open. Seems everyone had gone out, so it was the perfect time to situate herself. It was dark, and smelled of mildew, but as she rounded each flight of stairs the place seemed nicer, cleaner, and the smell dissipated. The top floor practically defied belief. It was nicer than her apartment, a large open air loft style with corner units to cool and freshen the air. For a sociopath, he definitely had style.

She walked around until she spied his bedroom, and with great enthusiasm went inside. His clothing was lying on the floor near the closet and his bed was unmade. She walked over and, hovering over it, inhaled deeply. She then spread herself across his bed and laid her head lightly on his pillow. It was the most expensive bedding she'd ever laid on, and it felt amazing.

She must've lulled herself because the next thing she knew she was awakened by the sound of men loudly coming up the stairs. She bolted off the bed and walked to the entranceway, leaning against the structural wall as the small mob began pouring into the room. At the center of it all was The Joker, a very satisfied look on his face. It must have been a good night.

"You are a hard man to find." she exclaimed over the ruckus. The group fell silent and the Joker looked on in disbelief. "You know, you might be beautiful, but coming here." he scoffs, "That wasn't smart. How did you find me?" "You'd be surprised how far a determined woman can get." she replied, "People all over seem to know you. If...you talking to the right people."

The Joker was nonplussed. He watched, anger mounting as she walked to the center of the room and closer to him. "Don't overreact. I didn't mean to intrude, but I wanted to talk to you. I could be good for you. We could be beneficial to one another."

She surveyed the group of men who all stood staring at her. Without speaking, the Joker crossed the room knife in hand. He grabbed her by the neck and held the blade to her just at the collarbone. "Now I want you to listen because I'm speaking very softly." he began, "Give me one reason not to rid this place of an intruder. Make it a good one." He heckled her, but he was anything but jovial.

"You thinking about carving me up?" she responded, in the sweetest tone she could muster, "Go for it. No really, go ahead. I want you to." He gaze met his. "Do it." she ejaculated, in a tone that echoed in the space of the loft. "This is all your fault, Joker. You've changed things. I can't go back, and I'm not afraid to die, not in the least. I finally get the joke, and its funny because you want to frighten me but that isn't going to happen. So where do we go from here?"

Her voice lowered and she took a step toward him, "If you think it feels good to watch someone cower before you, try watching them tremble beneath you." She looked into his eyes for what seems like ages, certain he was listening, yet his blade was still as her throat. "Why don't you humiliate me? Punish me for breaking in. Make me crawl on all fours or keep me completely nude in front of your boys here. Teach me a lesson, hmm? I'm sure you can come up with something far more depraved without even trying."

There was a sparkle in his eyes, and she smirked very subtly at it. "Of course, you're right." she exclaimed loudly, "you should just kill me. Come on, I really want you to." She leaned into in his knife and looked up.

"You've taken the fun right out of this." he added flippantly. He removed the knife, but while rocking back on his heels his hand inadvertently caught her shoulder, leaving a one inch cut which was now bleeding lightly down her arm. She closed her eyes, acknowledging the pain with an expression of gratitude. From behind them one thug muttered to another, "What a freak."

Without breaking his concentration on her, the Joker casually pulled a gun and shot the thug right between the eyes. The small mob all scattered from the body now on the floor. "When will you all learn? That's no way..to speak to a lady!" he says, still fixated. "Now one of you go an get a bandage, she's bleeding over here." he adds, directing with the gun.

"I'm fine." she sighs, a bit shaken. The Joker tilts his head and smiles. "Oop." he begins, "Don't speak. You get in too much trouble when you do. I think, you might be right, a punishment is just what you need." He scans her over slowly, "I'm gonna give it to you, but I gotta think up something just... right. Go and sit on the edge of the bed like a housecat while I think of something." She smile coyly and began walking toward the room. "What's... uh, your name?" the Joker asked.

"It's whatever you'd like it to be, sir." she replied. "Good. That's good." he mumbled, laughing to himself.

Chapter Text

"Now," The joker began as he entered the room, what must've been hours later, "What to do with you." He surveyed her as she lay curled at the end of the bed with her head in her hands. Like ...well, a cat. She does take direction well, he had to admit.

He stood silent for a moment, then clicked his tongue as he brought his hands up as if to describe something yet falling short. His eyes narrowed. "Girls, pretty girls like you don't just wake up and decide to be anarchists. See, you come here saying you could be good for me?" he asked, sort of rolling his eyes as he did it. "Well, I think maybe you should think about what you're getting yourself into."

"I can handle it." she responded, her eyes meeting his. The Joker tightened his gloves and knelt beside the bed, putting barely an inch between their noses. "If you're not afraid of me then you should be." He seethed. She leaned forward, brushing her nose across his. "Not as long as I keep you pleased. If I fail that, well I have it coming right?"

The Joker laughed maniacally. She pulled back, and big smear of white grease paint left where the noses met. This only made the Joker laugh harder. She touched her nose and examined her hand. "I guess you're just rubbing off on me." she shrugged.

Once the howling subsided, the Joker stood and pulled her to an upright sitting position. "So you'll do anything I ask?" he asked, licking the corners of his mouth. She smiled and laid a hand of his knee, "Anything." His expression vacant, he responded "Would you kill for me?"

The question took her aback. She always took as a fact that he killed people, but she hadn't thought she might have to. Her hand went limp on his knee, and he hopped up gleeful. "We have a winner!" he announced, almost singsong.

"Who...do you want me to kill?" she asked quietly. "Who cares? Anybody. You pick." he said, pacing while off in his own head. "I have to quit my job tomorrow." she said, distracted. "Where do you work?" he asked, still enjoying how upset she seemed. "Oh, um...Gotham Armory." she replied.

He just stared at her. "Gotham...Armory?" he asked. "Gotham Armory." He was staring at her now. "Yeah, I'm a bookkeeper." As if completely raptured, The Joker shouted, "Boys, we're going on a field trip!" then he turned to her, "Tomorrow. Five hours." was all he said.

It was, to her thinking, amazing that sleep washed over her at all. Yet even with her mind pregnant with worry as to whether or not she had the nerve to go through with this and what might happen if she did not, she shook awake some three hours later at the foot of his bed. It was obvious he had not seen his bed that night. Hanging from the closet door was an elegant woman's business suit with a pleated skirt. It was black, and noticeably more muted than anything else in the building.

This must be what he thinks of me. She thought, and was immediately ashamed. Just one of the herd. She sighed and looked at the clock. 7:15 AM. Then it occurred to her, I'm supposed to kill someone in two hours. She immediately said out loud, "Larry Haskin."

Of course her immediate thought was Larry Haskin. Larry, her middleweight boss and without doubt the busiest hands in Gotham. If she had a nickel for every time he had grabbed her ass in that office she could buy out Bruce Wayne; and to be honest, she had more than once imagined just grabbing a paperweight and wailing on him. But this is different.

While she was lost in thought, in strolled the Joker with a giddy high about him. "You better hurry up. We have things no do." he said in a merry tone, "Go shower, time-a-wastin'. By the way, what kind of security does this place have anyway?"

Snapping out of it and turning to meet his gaze, she hazily responded, "Oh, its sad really. A magnetic security lock keeps everything. It's a company joke how easy it would be to rip it off." Looking as though he didn't get it, the Joker replied, "So you could accomplish this?" She smiled, "Easily."

As the cool water cascaded over her body, she began to wonder why exactly impressing this man seemed to mean so much to her. Why was she doing this? she thought. Acknowledging that after this, there was no going back. She couldn't pretend it had never happened after today. She wasn't only killing an asshole at work, every aspect of that life had to die also.

She had to abandon all of that and learn how to be someone new. When she emerged from the shower, sitting on the counter was a plain white box with a crimson sheet of parchment lay on top. She picked up the parchment and written in the darkest pigment she had ever seen:

You never forget your first.
Have fun out there.
Never forget, the greaest joke
ever told will always offend someone.

- J

Inside the box was a black butterfly knife. It wasn't an especially large knife. It was, however, so sharp that the first time she opened it she cut herself deeply. The blood spilled out across the sink and stained the already redder-that-red parchment. She just stood there watching the blood spill thickly like wax down her hand until the door opened.

"Fetishist or Emo Kid?" he said dryly, "Lets get you cleaned up." Embarrassed, she simply sat on the toilet, her hand hovering over the sink. "It was an accident." "Yeah yeah," he mumbled while pulling gauze from the pantry, "Luckily for you in my line of work you get pretty good at cleaning this stuff up. If you ever want to get good at this line of work you better stop falling on every knife you see. There, ta-da!" he exclaimed, producing a clean and wrapped hand.

"I sure hope you do a better job with whoever at the Armory. You have a plan yet?" he asked. "Working on it." she replied, admiring his handiwork, "Maybe I'll just ask him if he wants to know how I got these scars." The Joker muttered, "Women." and walked out.

Larry met her at the door, "You're late!" "I know, I know I'm late." she interjected, "You will not believe the night I had." "I don't care if you ran away and joined the circus!" he snarled, "Wetherby has given me the authority to terminate people, and examples must be made."

Shocked, she stammered, "I've never been late before. I stay late, you're firing me?" A smile spread across his face, "Maybe if you had been a little friendlier to your boss this wouldn't have been such a big deal, but what can you do..." he placed a hand at the small of her back to emphasize his point and all at once any amount of apprehension was gone.

"Listen, I cannot lose my job." she whispered, "We can work something out." He straightened, "What do you have in mind?" With desperation in her eyes, she whispered "Meet me in the alarm room in five minutes?"

The magnetic lock that basically kept millions of dollars worth of weaponry secure was installed in 1972. Its operated by electricity, and has only one standby. If you trip both, all the doors open. In essence, the only real security to the Gotham Armory is that so few know the previous two facts.

She was sitting up on the counter when he entered, looking about and locked the door. "So, what are we doing in here?" he asked, mock swagger as he unbuttoned his coat and approached her. She fumbled with her purse, "I just need you to understand..." He pressed to her, "Oh, I do understand. I think you and I are going reach a mutually beneficial agreement." he says as he lightly stroked the inside of her thigh, "You know, we're not that different, you and I."

She tilted her head and pursed her lips, "Yeah, you know, we do kind of favor. For example..." she rolled her eyes, searching for the words, "I bet you're barely gonna feel it." At that moment, she grabbed his tie pulled it close and quickly stabbed him. He pulled away, stunned as blood seeped slowly across his shirt.

Exhilarated, she hopped down and rushed his, stabbing at least three more times before he collapsed in the corner. Terrified, he grabbed at his midsection and gargled at bit before panicking, asking, "Why?" She leaned down, almost high, and responded "I was gonna quit today anyway." With that she sighed, stepped over him to pull out the circuit to the locks, pulled out her phone and pressed send.

The Armory then erupted. Smoke, gunfire, and a mob of clowns rounding up as many firearms as could be carried out. Standing in the center of it all was the Joker, whose eyes immediately fixed as she emerged from the back breathless, her hands covered in blood. A smile stretched across her face and she made her way out the back door.

There waiting was a large black Gotham PD panel van. Panic washed over her until it opened to reveal more of the mob, their arms outstretched to pull her up. "So, did 'ya do it?" one asked. "What? Oh, yes." she nodded.

"Damn it, I owe that bastard $100 bucks." said another. The Joker had bet in my favor. she thought, and as relief washed over her she began to laugh uncontrollably. "That's what we want to hear!" the Joker cried as he and the rest of the mob loaded into the van with the take. "Somebody owes you money." She laughed in between gasps of air.

After calming herself and on the way back, she looked around at the boys and suddenly she realized she had their respect. She was one of them. "I always imagined..." she said to no one in particular, "that the second you...did something like that, the police appeared. That they dropped down form the ceiling or something. I never thought for a second you could just kill somebody and walk away in broad daylight."

The Joker blinked hard and looked right at her, "Desdemona." was all he said. She looked around, "What?" He stretched and brought both hands up descriptively, "Do you have any idea...how man people I have killed?" She smiled nervously, "No, I don't."

The Joker bit the inside of his cheek, "No, neither do I offhand. I don't keep a count." He waved his hands around in a very animated fashion. "The point is...I've only been arrested once and that's be-cause I wanted to be. The only joke more sad that the believed presence of justice is the concept that these people supply it."

She nodded, "Point. What is 'Desidera'?" The Joker shook his head, "No, no. DesdeMONA is from Shakespeare. She has an unorthodox relationship too. It's the name I want you to have." She Pondered for a moment, "Does it work out, her relationship?"

"Her lover strangles her to death because of a rumor of her infidelity." the Joker replies dryly. Desi leans back onto a large canvas bag and sighs, "I like it. But, I'm going by Desi."

Chapter Text

Rain was beginning to fall lightly of the streets of Gotham as the gang returned home. Desi had no idea there was so much method to the crime she saw nightly on the evening news. It was, to some effect, a bit of a buzzkill to travel around, dropping equipment off and swapping cars several times before finally coming home.

She had spent the day oscillating between two major thoughts. One was the giddy high she felt watching the terrified look on Larry's face. She found herself wondering Is that the same feeling the Joker has? I killed somebody, and I really liked it. Does that make me crazy? But before she could really commit to that line of thinking her eyes would fall on him, directing equipment or standing silent, watching over everyone.

She found herself incredibly turned on by the slightest example of his swagger or tone of voice. He was so powerful. She began to idly bite her lower lip, lost in thought until the arrived back at his hideout. Most of the mob had dissipated little at a time throughout the day, the few regulars headed up with she and the Joker to the top floor.

The Joker went straight in and made his way to the bedroom. Desi followed, excited after the long day of mental masturbation. He was sitting on the end of his bed, unbuttoning his cuffs. "Today was amazing." She said, slowly entering the room.

"You made a very good student." He responded, bending to remove a shoe. "So." she began as she sat down to the back right of him, "I was thinking today, and I think I really want to know how exactly you got the scars."
He dropped the other shoe and sat up to face her. "Because I think..." she purred, kissing each side slowly, "...they're beautiful."

She sat on her knees, almost hovering above his head. He chuckled softly, "You, uh, want to make me happy, is that it?" She rolled backward off her knees and onto her backside, her legs now open on either side of him. "Then I want you..."

"Yes?" she asked, trying to stifle her excitement. "I want you to go and cook something for the boys." He responded flippantly, and stood to finish undressing. "What?" She asked, incredulous. "What good are they to me if not at top performance?" He replied.

She look around, certain she was being set up. "Besides, I am tired and I want to sleep." He continued, throwing his shirt into the pile in the corner. "But...you're telling me you aren't even the slightest bit 'charged up' from today?" she stammered.

He looked at her, narrowing his eyes as if struggling to read something written on her face. "Oh, I get it." he says, suddenly excited, "You're turned on." A smile exploded across her face, "Yes. Exactly." The Joker began removing his pants, "Well, all the more reason to feed the boys. I'm sure any one of them would take care of it for you. Hell, several might."

She just stared at him as he removed his pants, speechless. "What?" He asked, noticing her stare. "I don't want just anyone." She spat, crossing the room toward him. She stopped uncomfortably close to him, resting a hand over his genitals. Thin green boxer shorts was all that separated them. "I want you."

His expression crestfallen, he grabbed her wrist and pulled it away. "Well, I'm tired." He replied sternly. He stomped past her and turned back, "Just what do you think this is?" he demanded, "You think we're together? Like we're supposed to 'make love' and cuddle like lovesick teenagers. We're not, and we never will be. You and me, don't make me laugh."

But it was Desi who laughed, throwing her head to one side, "Don't flatter yourself." she snarled, "I said I wanted to fuck you, not 'make love' or... whatever. This is lust, Smiley, know the difference. A man in your position really ought to."

Though the Joker sat silent, you could feel the rage building. Desi even began to grow a little scared. He brought his hand up to point at her, his expression full of hate. "You know what you are? You're just a fangirl. You're just hanging on to my coattails." he seethed, "At least the boys out there are as predictable as they are expendable. You." He started, then turned away from her. "I'm tired, and I'm going to bed." He said flatly.

"I...I didn't mean when I said..." Desi began, inching toward him. With his back still to her he muttered, "Get out." She took another step toward him, "What?" she asked. With a voice that shook her to her core he thundered, "GET OUT!" With that she turned slowly to leave as he climbed into bed.

She entered the main room and received looks that told her the acoustics in this loft were damn good. For the first time all day she felt just awful. She turned to the crowd, and faking ok better that she ever had before she asked, "Are you boys hungry?"

The oldest of them answered, "Actually, we decided to go out and grab a bite together." Lowering his voice barely above a whisper he added, "When he gets upset like that, it just safer to make yourself scarce." Desi nodded her silent understanding, and watched as they all filed out together. With dread in the pit of her stomach she examined the loft.

Though neat, it was obviously lived in, and needed a thorough cleaning. "Well, babe, its not like you're getting any sleep tonight anyway." She said aloud, and began picking up the sheets of newspaper and ashtrays that were scattered about. By morning, the place looked amazing, even his laundry had been hand washed and pressed. Who would've thought he owned a suit press?

She sat down with a freshly made cup of coffee and waited. Maybe he'll sleep it off. She thought as she sipped her coffee. I mean, last night was ugly, but he didn't kill me then, that's gotta mean something.

Her thinking was interrupted by the telltale sounds of someone stirring awake. Moments later he emerged from the bedroom, still hazy. He scanned the room, noting its improvement. "You've been busy." he said finally. Nervously, Desi asked "Would you like some coffee?"

"Why not?" He responded, walking back into the bedroom. Desi rose and went to pour the cup while Joker paced around in his bedroom. He returned with the largest stack of money she'd ever seen. "So, there's the cleaning, the laundry, and your help with the Armory" He said, counting out money on the counter. "You owe me for the suit you're..." he fidgets to demonstrate what she was wearing, removing a few bills from the stack, "Oh and the coffee." he says, taking a sip and throwing a single dollar on top of the stack.

"I like it stronger than this," he continued, "and now that you're paid, you can be on your way." Desi felt dizzy. "What?" she asked, placing a hand on the counter for support. "We're done." he said, "So go." The Joker made a motion with his hand toward the door and took another sip of his coffee. "But I was...this is...If this is about last night..." She could feel the bile rise up in her throat. Choking back, she whispered "I killed someone for you."

Finishing his coffee, he rounded the counter and grabbed her by her elbow, "Yeah, and now that that's done you can move on to something impressive." He pressed the money into her hand as he pulled her to the door. "Ok, bye bye now." he exclaimed as he her shoved her across the threshold and slammed the door with a deafening thud.

Desi just stood there shaking. In her hand was easily ten thousand dollars, and she'd never felt so cheap in her life. She felt empty, and although not really sad, she couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her face. She placed the money inside her coat pocket, and started down the steps with not a clue in her head of what to do.

He just threw me away. Why didn't he just kill me? She thought. She wasn't expecting him to fall in love with her, but she hadn't fathomed he'd do this. What an idiot I am. I didn't know him at all and I'm expecting things from him. She gasped and laughed standing on the street, tears still streaming down cheeks.

"Miss, are you ok?" a passerby asked. Desi looked up at him, and something in her stare spooked his and he backed away silently. This only made her laugh harder. She walked aimlessly, not realizing she was carrying herself to her apartment. Suddenly realizing where she was, she fished her key and let herself in, scattering a stack of junk mail across the floor at her feet.

She felt numb, and the home she once loved now seemed depressing and false. She pulled at her clothes until they fell away, leaving her in her underthings. She passed the main wall of her living room and noticed all the hanging achievements. All from a life she could no longer imagine; all with her old name.

Rage overcame her and she ripped them all down, shattering any that could be broken. She looked around at the complete mess she had made, and with first good feeling she had all day, she switched on the television and walked into her tiny kitchenette for a beer. The glass had cut her feet and she was tracking blood across the apartment resembling one of those crime scene charts you see on Court TV.

A few beers later, she sat in front of the television without really watching it. I'm not going away that quickly. She thought. But this time won't be so easy. I can't just walk in, I have to impress him somehow. I need a gift, an offering, something that will stun him. I have to show him that I'm more than one of his thugs.

Her thought was interrupted by a local commercial that was twice as loud as the broadcast. It was a middle aged man sitting behind a desk addressing the viewer directly:

Hello friends-
We are living in dangerous times. Violence to our bretheren,
drugs on our streets, and corruption in our government can
make even the most hopeful of us feel unsafe. Well, here at
New Gotham Church of Christ you can receeve hope and the
security of the word of God. Won't you join us this and every
Sunday at both 7 and 11:30 AM. God Bless You.

Desi just laughed. The biggest Church in all of Gotham. Something Impressive, huh? That would turn a head or two. She thought, tapping on the screen. "What I need is gasoline." she said, hopping to her feet.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she pocketed the money from the suit, and tucked her hair under a cap. She hit the door with a spring in her step, a plan already forming in her head.

If you're looking for knockaround guys, the state employment office didn't hold a candle to Maroni's on a Saturday night. That was exactly why she was headed there. She walked in looking fresh faced and esprit. She looked across the bar, and spied the same older thief that had warned her the night before.

Sitting down beside him, she offered, "Can I buy you that drink?" He looked over, part confused and part scared. "I'll come to my point then." she rolled her eyes and started, "I need a favor." This apparently gathered a crowd, several of which balked at her comment.

"We don't do favors, unless they're...returned" one man said, obscenely handling a pool cue. "I understand gentlemen." She said, smiling, "Which is why I'm prepared to pay $5000 to the man who can help me." Several of the men looked around.

"Hell, I'd do it for thirty minutes in the back room with you." Said one man. "Twenty!" said another. Desi laughed, "Boys, you flatter me. I am however, reserved for someone else." she said with a shrug, "Sorry."

"Who the Hell are you waiting for that would let you out to a place like this on a Saturday night?" he replied, followed by several cheers of agreement. Desi chuckled, "The, um, the Joker." The crowd fell silent.

"The freak?" one asked, breaking the silence. "He's... not a freak." she responded, "Okay, so I need ten 50 gallon barrels of Gasoline delivered to 1701 47th St by midnight tonight. So, who's gonna be able to help me." The crowd shuffled, most wanting nothing to do with the Joker.

"Why can't you get your boy to do it?" Asked another from the crowd. "Because..." Desi happily replied, "it's a surprise!" To further her point, she brought her finger to her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I'll do it." The old fellow at the bar answered low. "Great!" she replied, hugging him. "Here's the direction and everything you should need." As she hopped up and walked out, the two playing pool scoffed, "That freak getting a girl like that. There's no justice in the world."

At midnight, she was standing on the corner when a van drove up and two guys hopped out. "This is my cousin, he's an expert in demolition." The older man says. "It's a pleasure." she says, extending a hand which goes ignored. "How are you setting this up?" he asked, pulling the first barrels out.

"Oh, uh, mapgas igniter?" she shrugged. "That's not bad." he comments, a big smile spreading across her face. "You're gonna want to put some distance yourself from the building before you light it up." he says, still pulling materials from the van. "Oh, I'm not doing it right now." she answered. The criminals looked at each other, puzzled.

"I'm doing it tomorrow." She volunteered. "In God's name, why?" Asked the older criminal. "Exactly," She responded, "to send a message." She gazed at the expressions coming her way, "Oh please! Like there's an appropriate time to blow up a church! Come on, let's get this over with."

They set to work setting up a huge charge and setting the timer for 7:30 AM. Once done, Desi pulled a large manila envelope from her coat and placed it in the mailbox. She then pulled the remainder of the money given to her by the Joker from her pocket and handed it over to them.

"I just can't thank you enough boys for all your help." She beamed. The older man scanned the stack of bills as she began walking away into the night. "This is more than you owe us." he called out after her. She called back, "I don't want it. It's not about the money."

Come the next morning, there was panic on the streets of Gotham. While getting her pedicure, Desi heard all about the horrible explosion at that huge church and how so many people were injured. While getting waxed, she saw the news report about the package found at the scene with joker cards and a chilling note inside:

You Seek Protection
Sacrificing your freedom
for the illusion of safety

But there is no escape
There is no Place
Anarchy can't reach You

Even Your god is Susceptible to Chaos.

By the time she bought the trench coat, you couldn't even hail a cab in Gotham. The city seemed to grind to a halt. Yet when she arrived at his hideout, it was empty. Desi still felt a little high from walking through town wearing her new coat with nothing on beneath it.

She shed her coat and threw herself across his favorite chair, the one no one was allowed to sit in, and draping her crossed legs over one of the chair arms she waited. It wasn't long before she could here him pounding up the stairs, talking wildly about the events of the day. He entered, and stopped cold as his eyes fixed on the cool loveliness of her pale skin.

"Desdemona." He said low, a maniacal smile creeping across his face. "You owe me $1,411.00 for gas." she replied. "Look at you, the amazing arsonist!" he said gruffly, stifling a chuckle. "Way I heard it, the Joker did that." she said, tilting her head back and looking up at the ceiling. "Hello boys." She addressed the mob who were in full stare over her nudity.

The Joker laughed hysterically, clutched his sides, and brought one hand up to wag at her. "You blew up a church full of people?!?" he asked incredulously. Without so much as blinking, she fired back, "I want you inside of me."

The Joker stopped laughing and began to catch his breath. "I flavored part of my body with mint leaves." she uttered, "You'll never guess where." There was a long silence while their eyes locked. "Get out." he muttered. After a moment, he turned to the mob and again, "You heard me. Get. Out."

Chapter Text

His expression was almost maniacal as he approached her. She excitedly uncrossed her legs and rose to meet him, and he immediately pulled his favorite knife and rounded to her back.

"Let's see." He said, running the blade across her neck as he ran his nose up the back of her neck inhaling, "Nope, not here." He then brought the blade down the inside curve of her right breast. Desi exhaled heavily. Turning her head to match his gaze, she replied "Not there." He turned the blade flat and ran it down her midsection and over her hip slowly.

Desi quietly gasped, and the joker brushed her hair from her shoulder and rested his head there. "Do I make you nervous? Is it the knife?" He asked. She smirked and threw her head back onto his available shoulder. "The only thing I'm nervous about..." she began, while he slowly licked the inside of her neck, "...is that this night is going to end without you putting your mouth on this body."

With that, he reached up and grabbed her right wrist and turned her around to face him. He then pocketed the knife and, resting his hands on her hips, slowly lowered himself down the length of her body. He inhaled the entire time, slowly drawing her in. He stopped just at her hips and sniffed a few times. "I think I've found your secret hideout." he said with a laugh.

Before she could think of any reply, he clutched her buttocks firmly and began to feverishly kiss and lick her inside and out, alternating between slow thoughtful strokes and quick frantic ones. Desi's eyes immediately widened and she looked down as to make sure she was still standing on her own two feet.

Her body flushed and grew warm and she absentmindedly began to lightly stroke his hair with one of her idle hands. She closed her eyes and began to tremble, feeling unsteady, almost dizzy from the adrenaline and the realization that this was really happening. Just as she though she might lose her balance completely, he caught her sway and hopped to his feet.

She was starting to catch her breath and he watched her closely without saying anything. He then placed a hand on her stomach and slowly ran it up her body until his thumb was directly between her breasts. He turned her around, bent her over the card table and ran his hand down her spine, watching her response to his touch.

He removed his jacket, and stood behind for a moment. He wasn't wearing a vest, and his tie and suspenders matched. He pulled her toward him, leaving her legs limply hanging and her small toes lightly brushing the floor. Tracing his fingers along her soft and slightly moist folds, he slowly penetrated her, and as she softly gasped, he asked "Why a church?"

She moaned softly, "I, uh, wanted to impress you. Did I?" He increased to two fingers and quickened his pace mildly. The response was immediate. "Do you plan to do anything else?" he asked. She stammered, "That depends I guess." she panted, "Do you want people to be motivated like that?"

He slowed a bit, "What I want.. is people who take direction. I can't work with people who freelance." "Okay!" she exclaimed, obviously split between the conversation and the orgasm building inside her. "But we don't work together, you threw me out." she said, breathless. Right as she was nearing orgasm, he pulled away from her completely. "What? Oh, don't stop." she implored. She turned her head to see him going into his bedroom. Within moments, she was following him.

As she entered, he was standing in beside the bed facing her. "You want to stay here?" he asked "Yes." she replied immediately. "Because there are ru-les, you can't just..." She walked forward and cut him off with an abrupt and very passionate kiss. A kiss she herself broke my pushing him away and onto the bed.

"See?" he exclaimed. "I expect there to be an order to..." She climbed onto the bed and quickly cut him off again, with another deeply probing kiss. As she continued to hold his attention there, she went for his trousers, seeking out the fly and unbuttoning it. This time it's the Joker who breaks the connection but he simply looked on as she threw one leg over his waist and mounted him.

As she began to grind into him, taking him all into her, he begins to lick and caress her breasts. Throwing her head back, she grabbed his suspenders almost like a bridle to pull herself toward him as she bucked away. With her head thrown back, he worked his way up her chest until he was licking and lightly biting her neck.

He brought his hands around her throat and moved his head so that his mouth was right at her ear. "Tell me how badly you want this." he huffed. Desi tried to answer, but her mouth had run dry. She swallowed hard and gasped, "I want...I need it. Please don't stop." She began to pull at the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest and running her long elegant fingers up his chest. Maintaining his firm grip on her neck, he whispered "I want to hear you beg me."

"Have mercy..." She cried. Her fingers had began to tingle. The feeling in her legs was gone. She could no longer stop her back from arching and bucking from him. "Please don't stop again. I'm begging you."

Just then, she dug her nails into his back through the shirt. He responded to the pain immediately, releasing his grip on her and she crashed into him. He grabbed her at the waist and slammed her body onto the bed.

While she lay trying to catch her breath, he removed the remainder of his clothes and like an animal he climbs over her, immediately and forcefully penetrating her. "Please...like...this..." she pleads. "Just like this."

He begins thrusting with wild abandon, a crazed look in his eye. "Now I want it." he starts, "I want you to, I want it. I want it now. Come for me. I want to watch you do it." Desi began to shake, the intensity washing over in an awesome wave. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her toes curled, followed by uncontrollable moan for what seemed like ten minutes.

The Joker buried his head in her chest, thrust with exceptional force and tensed up entirely. Digging his nails into her sides, he let out a guttural groan and then stopped.

He then moved off of her and to the other side of the bed. "I'm not... a cuddle person." He said while trying to catch his breath. "Yeah, me either." she replied.

"Thanks for blowing up a building and killing a bunch of people. You can sure make a guy feel special." He said with a laugh. "Thanks for the sex." she replied, "You can sure make a girl go numb."

They both share a laugh, and the Joker rolls to look at her. "I want you to tell me that you don't love me." he said, "I'll know if you're lying." Without so much as blinking, she affirmed, "I don't love you, I'm just passing the time."

He rolled over, "Then you can stay."

Chapter Text

It was after noon before Desi stretched, rolling over to say good morning. She opened her eyes, and found that she was alone in the bed. She sighed, too satisfied with the memories of the night previous to care about his departure.

She pulled the rich purple sheet over her head and stretched, moaning softly as her mind wandered to the excitement of his touch on her breasts, his breath on her neck. Her thighs shook at the thought of it and a smile spread wide across her face. The loft was silent, but inside her head was, "Wonderful, amazing, incredible, awesome, exciting, wonderful, wonderful, and even more wonderful."

She kicked her feet free from the sheet and threw them off the side of the bed, lifting her up to a sit. Realizing she had nothing to wear, she tucked the sheet into a sort wrap and rose to walk into the main room.

She crossed the card table and ran the tips of her fingers across it. I wonder if he has Clorox wipes? She thought. Shaking her head, she stretched out on the couch, when there was a knock at the door. Puzzled, she stood and slowly walked to the door. It opened to reveal a boy of perhaps twenty, who jumped nearly out of his skin. He was holding a large suit box.

"Um, yeah?" she asked, leaning her head against the door. He handed the box over, his hands shaking. "Here you go, lady." he rattled, "Please, whatever you do, tell him I did good, ok?" Accepting the box, Desi looked down and realized she had no money to tip the boy. "Just a sec." she said, walking back to the counter to set the box down. "I'll tell him you did great, ok?" She said, but when she turned, the doorway was empty.

Desi examined the box, tapping on the top with one hand. She shrugged, lifted the top and brushed through the black tissue paper. Inside was a six button, very form fitting vest, a just above the knee pleated shirt, and a pair of Manolo heels, all a deep red color. Attached to the heels was a note:

Be wearing this when I see you next.
And buy yourself some underthings...
I want to be surprised!
-J

PS - You have big feet. hAHahaHAHa

Desi immediately looked down at her feet, turning them in toward each other. Custom clothes, designer shoes... She reached into the right shoe to find a bundle, all $100 bills. The man has taste. She thought. She collected up everything and headed for the shower, whistling "Dress you up" all the way.
She emerged an hour later, threw her black trench over herself, and headed out to shop.

The Joker returned alone, several rolled documents under one arm. He headed to the table and dropped them down. He didn't look around for Desi. In fact, he seemed completely disinterested in her completely. He sat looking over the blueprints for the better part of an hour, slowly forming a plan in his head.

After sitting motionless for at least ten minutes, he sprung up, searched his pockets for a pencil and began scribbling things on the corner of the blueprint while laughing to himself. "Oh, that's good." he said to no one. He was still at this when The door opened and Desi walked in, carrying a heap of bags.

She saw he was working and crept by him to the bedroom. Moments later she returned, having added black thigh high stockings and garters to her outfit. She stood beside the table, looking over his shoulder. After a few silent moments, the Joker turned to look up at her, happily exclaiming, "Homework assignment!"

He stopped to notice her accessories, which included the stockings and a black headband with red polka dots. Making a face, he turned back to what he was doing, talking to Desi without really acknowledging her.

"You, my dear, are going out tonight. This is a map of all the franchise coffee shops in the financial district. Tonight I want you to break into each of them and put this" he said, pulling a vial from his breast pocket, "into the flavor syrup." He turned, pointing an instructive finger at Desi, "Not in the same one each time. Vary it up." He turned back to his map, obviously pleased with himself.

"What is it?" Desi asked, kneeling down to eye the vial now sitting on the table. "Cyanide." He replied, as he stood and walked from the table. "Will it be enough?" Desi asked. The Joker just rolled his eyes, "I have mo-re" he said, "What do you take me for?" He snatched the small vial up from the table, "This one's mine."

She stood, did a complete turn stopping quickly to let the skirt twirl around her, "What do you think?" she asked. "I think you should blow something up too." he responded, ignoring her, "A gruesome twosome." He eyes widened, and he wagged his eyebrows at her. Desi dropped her shoulder's and nodded, contemplating. "What should I destroy?" she asked.

The Joker looked up and squinted, thinking. He grinned, a look of satisfaction upon him. "A school." he said, as if in a daydream. "One thing..." he said, snapping out of it, "I want it all done by 5am. I have the tools and equipment, and your help will be here at 11pm, so that gives you roughly five hours to pull it all off."

"That doesn't leave much time, I'll have to work quickly." she said, her eyes scanning as she tried to visualize. "Remember, it must look like no one's been there. In and Out. No messes." She swallowed hard, "You won't be there?"

He paced around the table, "I have my own tasks tonight. Besides, I'm expecting big things from you, Des-de-mona. You can't learn without being tested." He sat down and she sat across from him. "Really, why the name Desdemona?" she asked him.

He clicked his tongue loudly, and answered, "Well, you see, it has to do with these scars. When I was just a hoodlum, anarchist in training, like you, I had this girlfriend. She was a Chola, in a Mexican girl gang, she was beautiful but crazy." He shifted his shoulders and continued, "We were amazing together, but I was young, and cocky, and I liked to play around. Mona found out about this just went wild. She attacked me one night, and with the other girl watching did this to me."

He continued, gesturing to the scars on either side of his face. "She said this was the price I paid for disloyalty. She said she'd make so no other girl would even look at me. She killed the other girl. Maybe I thought I could reclaim something from that, even if just the name." The Joker shifted around, licking his lips but not looking at Desi. Desi leaned across the table, "Oh my god." she began, "Is...is that true?" The Joker met her gaze. "Probably not."

After loading everything into trucks and meeting her boys, Desi organized everything in a 'round robin' fashion. Everyone was doing something, with her at the end of it all, finalizing and ensuring everything was to her satisfaction. At any one moment there would be someone picking a lock, adding the poison, placing the hidden playing card somewhere in the store, and locking each place back as though no one had been there.

There was also and crew for the police and for batman to give warning. The final crew consisted of just Desi and the first two boys she worked with. They were going to work on the school. Other than the exhilaration she felt at the worry of being caught, she found it eerily easy to slip in an out of a building without detection.

She even hung back, laughing to herself and security crews showed up to each location, only to conclude that there must be some sort of bug in the system. She reached the school at 3:45, plenty of time to rig the charge and get out no problem.

She watched eagerly as her crew attached wires and set charges. She even asked a few questions, hoping to one day learn to do it herself. When finished, she took the detonator and sent the boys home, deciding to hang out and detonate it herself. Puzzled, the boys urged her to leave with him, but she declined.

She was outside on the swing set admiring her work when a police car pulled up, shining their spotlight on her.

"Okay honey." The second cop began, walking toward her. 'Honey?' Desi thought, and stood to meet their gaze. The first cop, an older man who was obviously disenchanted with his new partner, began again: "Ma'am, do you have an explanation for what you're doing here at 4:30 in the morning?"

Desi gave one affirming nod, "I was admiring my work." she replied, "Oh, and swinging. I love to swing." The policemen looked at each other, "Ma'am, have you been drinking this evening?"

Desi straightened, "Absolutely not. Really, I worked here tonight." The first cop put his hands on his hips, "What do you do?" he asked. "I'm self employed." she responded, "Sort of a freelancer."

The second cop scoffed, "Is that what they're calling it now? Very imaginative." The first cop extended a hand toward her, "Come on, let's go."

Desi protested, "Just what is it that you think I do?" she demanded. "Well, in that outfit, you're either on your way to Comic-Con or you're a prostitute." The second cop spat.

"You think I'm a hooker?" Desi asked, incredulous. The first cop took a step toward her, his arm still extended, "Come on, dear, we'll get this sorted out." Desi didn't move. "Let me assure you..." she said, her finger slipping over the detonator in the palm of her hand, "I'm not a prostitute. What I do requires..." she says, pushing the button, "...a little more oompf."

As her sentence ended, the night lit up as the school behind her blew sky high. The blast blew her hair forward and knock the cap off the younger policeman's head. They both turned and looked at her. Desi bit her lower lip tentatively, "I get a phone call, right?"

Chapter Text

Across the street a van sat silent in the dark, watching Desi twirl on the swing. Inside the van, the two thieves looked on, puzzled. "What are we doing here?" asked one. The other leaned back and replied, "We're keeping an eye on her. I'm not going back to base without her." he shifted uncomfortably, "Let her get this out of her system, then we can picked her up and go."

Just then, a police car pulled up with its flood light on Desi. "Look at this." said the first hood, sitting up to see through the windshield. "Shit." the second one commented. They looked on as she talked with the police for what seemed like twenty minutes. "Jesus, what is she doing?" the second one asked. The first made a face, "She's getting in way over her head. That's what she's doing." Just then, a spectacular explosion rocked the neighborhood, sending tiny pieces of the schoolhouse flaming into the night. The thieves looked on helpless as the cops swarmed on Desi, arresting her. The second thief swallowed hard.

"Let's go." He said, watching the police car drive away. "We better go tell the freak." he said solemnly.

It was a raucous affair at his home that morning. All the crews were returning, reporting their duties accomplished and getting paid. The Joker sat, specked with red paint, his eye repeatedly drawing to the news playing in the corner. The two thieves walked in slowly, making their way to the back of the line. As they reached the Joker, he looked at the and then looked about for Desi. "Morning, boys." He said, cheery as ever, "So, did Wayside School fall down?" he asked.

The older of the two nodded "Yes sir, its gone." The Joker furrowed his brow, reading the situation. "Where is Desdemona?" He asked cautiously. "She fell behind sir." the thief began. The Joker cocked his head, squinted slightly and turned his attention soley to this thief. "What do you mean, 'she fell behind'?" He demanded.

The second thief interjected, "It was the police. They showed up and she was arrested." The Joker ran his tongue across his back teeth slowly, and was then silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. The mob began whispering among itself. Some decided it wasn't worth sticking around and backed out quietly. Others shuffled about, distancing themselves from these two guys. Joker rounded the counter he was standing behind and approached the two men. "So you were able to get away, but she wasn't?" He asked.

The younger spoke first, "Yeah, that's what happened" he lied. They cut a nervous eye to each other. The Joker began pacing about the room. "So she could be telling the police anything right now?" He asked, his tone bordering maniacal, "She could be bringing them here right now."

The older thief spoke up, "Sir, Desi would never do that. She'd die first." The joker pulled his trusty knife and began pointing with it. "How could you let this happen?" He said, alternating so as to point at each of them. They just looked on, unsure of what to say. The joke brought his knife up as if to make a point, but was interrupted by the morning news.

Breaking news on this Tuesday morning.
Citizens are shocked and police baffled as billboards all over Gotham now display bizarre, potentially threatening graffiti, believed to be left by The Joker.

Many signs include his now trademark smile insignia, and include phrases such as 'Why does anybody still live in Gotham?' and even more disturbing, 'It the start of any important day.' Commissioner Gordon has assured the public that the police are doing everything they can to track the criminal known as The Joker, and will address public concerns in a press conference this afternoon at four.

Wait...this just in: Gothamites are falling prey to what doctor's are describing as a massive cyanide poisoning. Police are unsure of the sources of the cyanide, but are urging citizens to consume only thing they are absolutely certain of. More details of this despicable crime as they are made available. Thank you for watching GNN Good Morning.

The Joker lowered his knife, took a step back, and howled with laughter. Waiving his hands, he gasped for air as his laugh filled the room. "Maybe.." he started, choking back laughter, "all the good commissioner needs is a cup of joe." The threw his head back and just laughed. A few of the mob even chuckled a bit. Bringing himself upright, Joker jumped up and down a few times to shake it out and refocus. Bringing the knife up again, he asked instantly serious, "So, which of you left her."

The two criminals looked at each other knowingly. "It was my operation. I should take the responsibility" The elder said. Joker rolled on his heels, "That's very noble of you." he began, "Aren't you cousins?" The Thief nodded, and the Joker returned one. He then pounced on the other thief, his knife on the man's throat. "Let this be a lesson to both of you." he said, his eyes moving between them, "When someone entrusts you with something that belongs to them, you should take extreme care of it. Understand?" Both men nervously nodded. The Joker sighed, "Good."

He then cut the younger criminals throat, as a helpless and panicked look overcame the older. The young man collapsed to the floor, blood pouring out of him. The older criminal went to his knees, hovering over him as he died. "My God." he mumbled, his voice trembling. The Joker turned, looking down on them as if mildly annoyed at the sight. "Now." he continued, "it appears that we have to go pick up Desdemona this afternoon."

The remaining mob shifted about. "How are we going to get her out of MCU?" asked one of them. The Joker, realizing his had blood on his hands, began to walk toward the bathroom, "I'm just gonna walk in and take her." He said, disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, at major case unit, no one knew quite what to do with the new arrival. She sat in lockup, while cops gathered in the corners of the room to get a look at her and gossip about just how she'd gotten there. Gordon had yet to arrive, and with the sudden panic over poisonings in town, no one knew when to expect him. Several cops resigned that she was simply a copycat, noting the Joker's Church bombing just days before. Desi rested her face against the bars and merrily addressed the crowd of onlookers. "I'm not a copycat." she said, giggling. "Tell me," she continued, wide-eyed with enthusiasm, "Is this the exact same cell The Joker was locked in?" The cops made a disgusted face and backed away from the cell. She just smiled back, and began singing loudly,

"I can't decide
Whether you should live or die
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang your head and cry
No wonder why
My heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Bullock entered the room and looked around at all the police. "Why are we standing around with our collective dicks in our hands?" He cut an eye to officer Martinez, "Oh, except you Martinez." The arresting officer spoke up, "This girl is just crazy." Bullock looked over at the girl in the cage. At 5'5", he didn't see the threat. "Quiet in there!" he shouted. She laughed, and continued even louder:

It's a bitch convincing people to like you
If I stop now call me a quitter
If lies were cats you'd be a litter
Pleasing everyone isn't like you"

Bullock turned to the other officers, "Gordon's on his way in, I'm processing her." He walked over to the cell and began tapping on the bars. Desi leaned in his direction, "Hi daddy." She said. Bullock sneered and rounded to the door, "Come on, I'd like a few words with you." She pursed her lips, and responded with a telling moan. "Why not?" she shrugged, hopping up. "Sweetie, you're only chance of getting out of here is cooperation." He said, grabbing her arm.

"I highly doubt that." She responded flatly. "Why is that, exactly?" He asked. Desi stretched on the tips of her toes, "Because I have friends." She said, very matter-of-fact. "I didn't think pathetic loser criminals made friends." he replied dryly. "No dear, that's you." She replied, "And what's with all the chauvinistic nicknames around here? Are you guys nomenclature deficients or what?" Bullock responded by shoving her into an interrogation room. Desi rolled her eyes and walked to the table and sat down.

Bullock watched from the door. Desi scanned the room. "Does that camera work?" she asked, pointing to the security camera. "Tell you what." she began, "Let me out of here, and before I go, you can take me right here, on this table." she said, tapping on it, "Look, I'm already handcuffed." She waved the handcuffs at him. "So that's what you're into, is it?" He scoffed. "Wasn't last time, who knows." she replied. "I'll pass." Bullock spat, and Desi roared with laughter. "Do you really think you're in a position to be turning it down?" she said laughingly as Jim Gordon walked in. "Oh, thank God! Commissioner, this officer has been very inappropriate with me." Desi said with mock sincerity. Jim just looked her over, "I bet." He turned to Bullock and nodded, and Bullock left. "Bye daddy!" Desi called after him.

It had already been a long day for Jim Gordon, and it was only just after noon. He now sat across from the demented goth sister of Sailor Moon, and he was already tired of it. Desi placed her elbow on the table between them, resting her head in her hands. "You look tired." She said.

"You know, the general consensus around here is that you're a copycat. But I don't think that." He said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "That's because you a lot smarter than most people here." Desi responded seriously. "I think..." Jim started, "You are involved in some way with the Joker."

Desi lit up inside. "Is it that obvious?" She thought, suddenly warm inside. "That's why its so important that you work with us." Gordon interrupted, "If he is forcing you in some way, or giving you something we can help you. We can protect you." he commented, resting a hand on top of hers.

"No he just didn't?" Desi thought, anger welling up inside her. "I am so sure that your Ned Flanders-lookin' ass in going to condescend to me!" But just then, calm washed on her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she covered her mouth.

"You can...protect me?" she asked low, just above a whisper. Jim leaned in, "Yeah, we can." He said in a reassuring tone, "I just need your name and some information from you." Desi wiped her streaming tears and swallowed hard. "Its um...It Helen, Helen Scott" she whispered. Jim nodded affirmatively, "That's good." Desi looked around, confused, "Wait...I'm sorry, I don't think that's right." Jim smiled, "It's ok, take your time." Desi blinked a few times, and responded. "Okay, it's Judith. Judith! I'm Judith Ryerson!" Gordon stood to go run the information, "That's great. Thanks, Judith."

As he when to the door, Desi called out to him, "Of course, it could be Sarah. Or Vivianne. Or maybe it's Andrea." She smiled as the look on Gordon's face melted away. "Could be Amy, or Amber, and for reason Mandie seems right. Damn you Barry Mannilow." Shaking his head at her, he opened the door and instructed the officer to lock her back in the cage. "Wait, wait! Maybe I'm a Barbara! Or SUSANN!!!" she shouted, laughing as he bolted from the room.

Back in her cell, she reclined on the bed, waiting patiently. There weren't many people in the building, which Desi found odd but also comforting. "Guess you guys have a big mess to clean up and all." She thought. She looked around at the damaged building, smugly remembering that it was the Joker who had destroyed. She let her left leg dangle off the cot lazily. She had no idea lockup was so boring.

A pathetically clean-cut rookie came over with a paper cup of water and offered it to her. Taking a sip, she asked what time it was. The young cops said, "It's 4:15." She nodded reassuringly. "It must be tough on you." She commented sweetly, "I mean, what does your girlfriend think of you working in a building that still hasn't been repaired after a psychopath blew it up?" the young man blushed, "I don't have a girlfriend just yet." Desi gasped, "Oh, come on, handsome man like you? It won't be long, I'm sure. Just don't let the Commissioner work you so hard that you don't get any time to meet that special someone." she added, winking at him.

The cop smiled and looked at his shoes. "No ma'am, I won't. Commissioner Gordon's a great boss. He's downtown right now talking to the city about The Joker and his plans for the city. It's just tough with there being so few of us to go around. And with the Batman being public enemy number one..." Desi nodded understandingly, as Det. Bullock walked into the room. "Why is the 'probie' talking to the dangerous criminal alone?" he shouted.

"Re-laaaaax." Desi said, kneading her now bare feet. "He was just bringing me a drink of water, you know, like the good guys should." She shot an earnest smile at the young cop. Bullock ushered him away and gave her a warning glance before leaving the building.

It had grown very quiet in holding, and sparing the few thugs making lewd comments at Desi, it was peaceful. Even the cop standing watch dozed lightly. No one seemed to notice the single pane of glass breaking out across the room. A small object rolled across the floor and then came to a stop. Desi laid on her stomach, looking out at the open room when she noticed it, and immediately remembered it from her days at the armory. She immediately plugged her ears as the small device emitted a frequency, blowing out all the windows on the floor.

Even plugged, her ears hurt. Yet immediately following the blast, two grenades came bouncing into the the room. Desi quickly grabbed the mattress she was laying on and rolled under the metal cot. From there she felt the rumble of the explosions and heard several items fall hard onto the metal frame of the cot. Then she heard what she had been waiting for all day.

From outside, amplified, came his voice. "You have something which belongs to me." The voice boomed, "I don't like it...when other people touch my things." This was followed by the sound of an explosion which must have been on another floor. Desi peeked from the mattress to see the Joker walk confidently from out of the smoke.

He calmly grabbed the keys from the desk with the now dead policeman, and unlocked her cell. She crawled out and stood to meet him. "I thought I told you to wait in the car." she said, "Oh, and could you please kill that guy right there, he was very rude." She gestured to the lewd commenter who now stood petrified.

The Joker walked over, and grabbing after his hands, placed a grenade in them. He patted the guy on the cheek and said, "Don't let go now!" before laughingly turning back. He grabbed Desi's hand, who began skipping out of the now destroyed room. The Joker said little to her and in fact put her in a separate car with instructions to take her straight home. She looked out the back window until she could no longer see him, and turning back to sit, remarked, "Now that is how you pick up a lady."

Chapter Text

Desi entered the loft exhilarated, but when she turned she noticed a distant look on the Joker's face. She looked around, hoping to get a read from one of the other guys. Suddenly nervous, she swallowed hard, "What?" she asked.

Pulling his knife, he approached her without looking at her. "Do you know...why I use a knife?" he asked. She searched that phrase for the tiniest example of humor, and finding none, slowly shook her head. The Joker gave one affirming nod and clicked his tongue. "People give themselves away when they realize the end is near. With a gun the end isn't near, it's already here and gone." He stopped a step from her. "I wanna know who I'm killing, and for intimacy, nothing beats the knife. I don't like...what's going on between us." He started, "I don't like it. Rescuing you, it's so...banal."

He cut an eye to her, "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He took a step toward her, enveloping any personal space and bringing his knife up to the bottom button of her vest. "Staying behind, it was stupid." she said, her body almost rigid with the cold steel so near it. "It was stupid?" He asked, pulling up suddenly and cutting the bottom button away from her vest. It hit the floor of the loft with a resonating tap. "I was stupid." Desi responded, a single panicked breath escaping her.

The Joker brushed his hair away with his free hand, "...and can we afford to have stupid people around?" Desi shook her head and took a step back, which was immediately followed by the Joker. "It was an accident. It won't happen again." she quietly pleaded. The Joker brought the knife up with a jerking motion, and it moved back cutting into Desi's navel. "Oops." the Joker exclaimed, laughingly, "Accident." Desi closed her eyes, and a single tear fell down her face.

"Are you nervous? I thought you weren't afraid to die." The Joker asked, cutting away another button. Desi took a deep, but broken breath, "I'm not." she added, "I'm just having so much fun." The Joker tilted his head to the left and took a step, pushing Desi back another. "Is that what this is?" he demanded. She trembled, sure she had signed her death warrant. "No. Wh-what I mean is..." she started, panicking, "That you're so amazing, and clever, and..." He interrupted, "And you are?" She exhaled deeply, "I am... nothing."

The Joker responded by cutting off another button.

She took another step back, only to find that she was now backed to a wall, a sealed windowsill behind her. It was boarded up from the outside. He wasn't looking at her face, instead focusing on his knife resting under her last three buttons, chuckling softly to himself.

Seeking to calm herself, Desi took a deep breath, "I'm just, I'm...inconstant. Even now, I should be listening." she exclaimed, looking up at the ceiling, "This could be the last thing I ever hear and yet, I gotta admit the truth, part of this is turning me on."

The Joker looked up quickly, cutting of two of the remaining buttons in one swipe. The force of it made Desi tremble and take a panicked breath. He leaned very near her face, as if to kiss her and said, "Only part of it?" he said, pursing his lips.

"Well, the part where you're probably gonna kill me.. is a bit of a buzzkill." She answered nervously. The Joker exploded with laughter, pulling the knife away and doubling over beside her. "That's what I love about you, Des-" he howled, "your timing is flawless."

She smiled, and sighed, dropping her shoulders. Lightning fast, he was back against her, knife removing the final button and wrapping his long right hand around her neck. He pushed into her, and she inched up partially onto the windowsill.

With the vest now button less and hanging open, barely covering her, he traced the knife down her skirt and used the blade to lift it. Peeking beneath, he lifted to reveal lace boy shorts and her garter belt both a bright, vibrant green.

He laughed, "Are those for me?" he asked jovially. "It's all for you." she replied solemnly, "All of it." He slid the knife into the boy shorts, carefully bringing it around to the crotch. His eyes locked with hers and he asked her, "What are you?" she smirked back, "I'm nothing." He brought the knife down, cutting away the underwear in its path.

"I'm worthless." she continued, "I'm empty. Compared to you..." she faded, watching him release her and pocket the knife. He hastily began to unbutton him pants and grabbed her thighs, pulling them around him and bracing her weight. As he returned his gaze to her, she continued, "Compared to you, I'm less than nothing."

Lacing his hands inside her garter belts, he pulled her down and pinning her against the wall, plunged into her. She gasped at the force of him, and brought her head forward to let the small of her back brace her weight. The Joker began by dropping low, almost pulling out before thrusting forcefully into her. Desi held to him as best she could. Being slammed against the brick hurt, but it also felt amazing.

She ran both hands through his hair and pulled gently as his pace quickened, shortening his stroke. Neither seemed to notice the mob still across the room, nor did either seem to care as she cried out in ecstasy. He freed his hands and grabbed her ass, squeezing it hard as she wrapped her legs around his body and hooked them behind him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he grabbed her waist and swung around, still connected. "No!" she squealed, "Don't stop, Goddammit!" He laughed so hard he ran into the counter, knocking several cannisters over and sending broken glass flying. They continued to the sofa, where he tossed her down, sending her bouncing down the length.

The Joker stood at the end of the couch looking down at her. Desi quickly turned and began crawling on here hands and knees toward him. She hungrily took him in her mouth, making small counter-clockwise circled with her tongue. He responded by taking control of her head and pacing her strokes.

He slowed his pace and lifted his hands, letting Desi work at a natural pace. He then pulled away and lifted her chin to face him. "What are you, again?" he asked, poised before her. "I'm nothing." she panted, "Nothing."

The Joker loomed over her powerfully. "You're going to turn around now," He ordered, "and the only word I want to hear from those lips is 'please'. Do you understand." Desi nodded slowly, turning around.

He entered her again, with more force, and began thrusting with a crazed pace. His hands rested on her hips and his rhythm grew erratic. Then the Joker began making strained sounds of pleasure as he slammed into her. Desi cried out, "Oh, God!" The Joker pulled from her momentarily, "Uh-uh. What did I say?" Desi shuddered, "Please!" she said, breathless, "Oh please, pleeeeease."

Desi screamed and threw her head back, moaning the intensity of her climax. He joined her moan, and looked on panting as her body went limp from exhaustion.

Putting himself away before he sat down beside her, he looked around to see the mob has cleared out. Clicking his tongue as if confused as to why, he shrugged.

Desi pulled herself together and rolled around to sit on the sofa facing him. "My point is, don't let that happen again." he uttered between deep breaths. "Yes sir." she said, throwing her head back and breathing hard. "I won't...It won't happen again."

She rose slowly, trying to regain the feeling in her legs. "I'm going to take a shower if that's alright." she asked, to which the Joker just waved his hand dismissively.

Desi was still mildly shaken over the experience. How did I go from last rights to quickie sex? She pondered, as she stepped into the shower. Part of her wondered if he wasn't going to change his mind and burst in on her in the shower. She noted the blood on her stomach, a wound she had completely forgotten.

Finishing her shower, she stepped out and dried herself realizing she now had nothing to wear. She heard the television on in the main room, and figured the mob must be back. She collected up the fabric that once comprised her wardrobe and ventured into the main room, The news was left on the television, about the heist and the escape.

Boring fare for those who had been there. She thought, dropping the clothes into the large waste bin. "I'm going to need clothes." she called out, "Again."

But the room, in fact the loft, was empty. He was gone.

Desi threw herself on the bed. She wasn't sleepy, really, but bored and she knew she should get sleep while she could. She looked around the walls of the bedroom, trying to stifle the dread that she had ruined things with The Joker. Would he ever trust me with something important again? She wondered. She wondered what he was doing now, while she lay in bed. She admired herself smugly, At least I've got lots of really nice intimates.

She was now in a matching bra and panties of vivid blue. She rolled over and sighed. Her mind was full up with buildings burning, people she killed, her life just one week ago, and the memory of Him walking out of the destruction to collect her. She rolled up in the sheet, laid her head on his pillow and taking in his scent, fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Desi stirred in the bed. Even before she opened her eyes, she heard him somewhere in the loft. She didn't, however, hear anyone else. Oh my God she thought, actual alone time with him. Positively giddy, she scrambled out of bed and to her feet. Working hard to gain her composure, she brushed her hair and washed her face, doing one good stretch before walking out to see him.

He was sitting on the couch disassembling a gun, his coat draped over the back. He looked great. Desi stopped at the bedroom entrance confident in her frilly underthings. "Well well," she purred, "The hardest working man in anarchy."

Joker looked up momentarily. "That's a different look for you." He said. Desi admired herself grinningly and replied, "Do you like it?" He tapped on another large suit box sitting beside him. Desi hopped and came over and sat on the couch, the box between them. Excited, she pulled the top off the box and sifted through the tissue, uncovering quite possibly the homeliest muumuu ever made. It was gray, loose fitting, and itchy to the touch. Desi swallowed hard. "What is this?" she asked.

The Joker slowly turned to face her, for the first time his attention on her. "Probation!" He exclaimed. Desi's eyes went wide. "I have to wear this?" she asked, "Like...around?" The Joker, now thoroughly pleased with himself, returned to his gun. "When I allow you to."

Desi stammered, "Well I can't very well work in this." His gun now in many pieces on the table, the Joker stood, rolling his cuffs to the elbow. "Oh, you won't be working." he said, reveling in her stunned silence. "You need more instruction." he said, "I'll have to show you."

Utterly defeated, Desi stood with the dress. "I should get dressed then." The Joker wagged a finger at her in protest. "No, I quite like you like...this" He said, waving the finger up an down her form. "Besides," he began, walking past her and to a large canvas bag, "the boys will be here soon, so I need you to make dinner."

Desi bit her lip, wondering what to do. She turned to face him, and forcing a smile, asked, "Well, is there anything I can do for you, you know, before they get here." The Joker turned to her, and as the smile appeared on her face, he swaggered over to her chuckling softly to himself.

"Yeah." He whispered, grabbing her hands and placing them on his hips. "Yes?" Desi asked, her excitement obvious. The Joker threw his head to one side, bringing it right near her right ear before whispering, "There are dishes." He pulled back, pointing with his head toward the sink.

 

Across town, Jim Gordon sat on the roof sipping a cup of coffee. He looked at the destroyed bat signal, and wished he had a cell phone number, or a direct line, or anything. Luckily for him, Batman usually stopped by during his rounds. Stepping out of the darkness, Batman commented, "The poisonings, how many are there now?"

Gordon cleared his throat, "Thirty-four." he responded, "Its getting worse, much worse." Batman took a step toward him, "A friend warned me it would get worse before it got better."

Gordon scoffed, "I thought I had a handle on this job. Now I'm the commissioner and I don't know what to do. I mean, the girl that was collared today? Twenty-four maybe and completely devoted to that crazy bastard. I sat across the table from her, and..." he sighed, "What do so many people stay here?"

Batman replied, "Because its their home, and its worth fighting for." Batman turned to look out over the same scene that Gordon was, "This girl," he started, "do you have anything on her?" Gordon looked down at his cup of coffee. "Yeah, we booked her, so we have fingerprints. She didn't have any priors, but she was a city employee. Its all in her file."

"Is that file in your office?" Batman inquired. Gordon shifted. "Don't get up, I'll take care of it. You take the strong leads, I'll do the grunt work." Batman said. Gordon dumped the remainder of his coffee off the side of the building. "I'm going home to my wife and kids. You be careful out there." He said into the darkness.

"Jim, you're a good Commissioner. Don't lose hope." The darkness replied.

 

Bruce sat in the incandescent light reading from the stolen file, which was basically a civic achievement folder with a newly typed arrest record laying on top. After a long silence, Bruce announced, "I just don't get it Alfred."

"What's to get?" Alfred responded, while cleaning weapons. "How a girl like her winds up with a man like him?"
"Exactly." Bruce responds.

"Why do all good girls want bad guys?" Alfred asked, "Maybe she loves him." Bruce immediately made a confused face. "You think people like this are capable of love?"

Alfred stood continuing to clean and put away each piece, "You're confusing love. Not everyone is going to court hoping for a white wedding and a home life. Some people just want somebody to cling to while the ship is sinking. Besides, I never said he loved her back." Bruce sighed. "How could anybody love a man like that?" He asked.

Alfred wiped his hands on his polishing cloth and walked over, "The same way Rachel loved you despite, well, all of this." Bruce shot back a hurt look, to which Alfred replied knowingly, "It isn't your differences that are going to help you now, Master Wayne, its your similarities."

Bruce leaned back in his chair, mildly sickened at the idea of their similarities. Alfred looked over his shoulder at the mug shots of a fresh faced twenty-something with jet black hair and bright green eyes. Tapping on it, he continued, "This isn't a hardened criminal. It's a child, disappearing at the hands of a skilled manipulator. You have the opportunity, Master Wayne. You can do more than apprehend this girl. You could save her."

 

Night fell on what must've been the worst Wednesday of Desi's life. She didn't mind so much the cleaning, in fact there was something about scrubbing the floor in her underwear while the Joker sipped his drink and pretended to not be watching her that really turned her on. This all lost its charm when the crowd of lecherous criminals arrived and she was expected to serve them all dinner without getting dressed. Many averted their eyes, unsure of why they were being catered to by a nearly naked woman, but they certainly weren't going to talk about his woman. Not in his presence anyway.

As she cleared the plates, one even gave her a light slap on the ass, which the Joker interrupted abruptly. "Let's not misunderstand," He announced, brandishing one of his many knives, "she is here for entertainment only. Keep your hands to yourselves." He swept the crowd with the blade as Desi made her way to the kitchen. One more soft spoken criminals followed her, going to retrieve a soda.

"Hey, you all right?" he asked low, opening the small fridge. "Yeah, I'm swell. I am serving casserole to felons in $200 worth of Dolce V lingerie." she spat, "Best day of my life." Joker looked up as Desi leaned against the stove, "Did you say something?" he inquired.

"No, sir, nothing." She replied, shaking her head. "Good." He smiled, waving her over. "All done?" he asked as she approached. "Yes, and if you don't mind, I'd really like to go and take a -" She began.

"Wonderful, wasn't it boys?" He interrupted. The boys all agreed. He turned to her and privately commented, "We boys are gonna talk some business now." Desi stared, stunned. "I was thinking you could, maybe..." he trailed away smugly, examining his hands, "you know, make mine look like yours."

Desi stammered, "You, uh...you want me to do your nails." She said, as if to convince herself. "While you plan...a heist with them." The Joker sat expressionless, licking his lips before replying, "Was I unclear?" Desi's eyes grew wide and she stood upright quickly. "No sir." she said, "I'll go get my stuff." Completely defeated, she walked into the bedroom.

She wasn't even in the room as she sat on her knees on the floor, slowly filing his nails. Each stroke over the nail sent her further away. Each time she heard the crowd noise rise she filled with the worry that it would never again apply to her. He hadn't even looked at her in an hour. How like the sun he could be, so warm when shining on you, yet so cold when turned away. As she finished the first hand, and began massaging oil over his hands, she tried to remind herself that it had only been one day. One awful day. At that soon it would be over.

She stood to walk around to the other hand, and he grabbed her forearm, halting her. Momentarily turning from the gang he looked up at her and said quietly, "Go get dressed." She nodded thankfully and went to the bedroom, retrieving the hideous tent-like dress and quickly throwing it over herself. It was immediately uncomfortable, but she barely noticed it. She was so grateful to be wearing clothes that she happily returned to her knees to begin his other hand.

Amazingly, the boys finished their session and began filing out of the building. Desi went to turn down the bed, and met him at the entrance of the bedroom. She accepted each item as he removed them, each time looking for the slightest look from him. She went to the closet to hang each piece up, calming herself to the idea that she was at least heading to bed with him.

Leaving the closet, she found him already in bed. Her pillow and a small blanket were on the floor beside the bed. Desi's heart sank, a feeling a despair taking her over. She dropped to the floor, trying to keep her voice from breaking as she said "Good night then."
There was no reply.

The next morning, Desi stood in the market like normal people. To her horror, she even saw a lady in a dress not unlike her 'punishment' dress. She looked around at all these people comparing prices and consulting lists and it was like they weren't even human. Desi thought she might vomit. While in line to check out, she stood behind a lady that had a coupon for every item in her buggy. Desi wanted to kill her. Maybe everyone in the store. She smiled at the thought of it. Yeah she thought, Maybe burn it down too.

She walked home slowly, looking at each person who passed her. She wanted to kill them all. She wanted to end their normalcy. To deliver them from the perfect misery that they didn't even know they were living. She wanted no one to escape. She chuckled to herself. Well, almost no one. She thought.

When she arrived at home, no one was there. She sighed and began putting groceries away. She cleaned the entire loft without thinking of it. She even began maybe to feel normal as she cleaned and pressed his suits. However, after hours of waiting, Desi began to worry. She walked around the spotless loft trying not to imagine the worst. She remembered the guys just yesterday mentioning the Batman. Just as her worries reached a fever pitch, the door flew open and in poured a group of criminals, the Joker valiantly following.

Desi stood speechless as she watched them enter. Tears fought their way down her face and as she made eye contact with Joker she went immediately for the bedroom. The crowd went quiet, and Joker turned to them and said jovially, "Pardon me boys, gotta go handle the missus." He said, laughing as he walked slowly to the bedroom.

As he entered the room, Desi stood by the bed. She was trying desperately to stop tears from falling down her face. She turned away, not wanting him to see her. "I'll be right out to take..care of.." She started, between gasps of air. Joker picked her pillow and blanket up from the floor and laid them back on the bed. He then motioned for her to sit.

"You know," He said as he paced about in front her, "when I asked you to kill a guy, you didn't cry." Desi nodded, nearly hysterical, trying to speak through her tears. All she could muster was, "I'm sorry."

"And before, when I had a knife to your neck? Nothing." The Joker continued, "Why now?" He leaned in, curious for her answer. Desi took a deep breath and replied, "I didn't get to go to the party."

The Joker looked around and then began laughing, "Is that all?" He asked, very amused by her answer. He cocked his head, anxious for her next response. Desi wiped her eyes and took another deep breath.

"I can't do this." she said, "Normal living. I can't just go to the store and cook dinner and..." She trailed away, looking for a way to express herself. "If I know that the excitement is coming, I can do the grunt work. But the not knowing, I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin." She looked to him for assurance, but his expression was puzzled.

"Look." she started again, "I am...so very sorry I screwed up. I promise I'll never do it again. I'll do anything you want. Anything, I swear just. Tell me." She pleaded with him, "Tell me I'm gonna get to go out again. Tell me you're gonna touch me again. Tell me I'm gonna get to take this god awful dress off someday!" She began to maniacally tug at the dress, then fell silent.

The Joker looked at her, studying her expression for a long time. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, instead drawing up her legs and fidgeting with her feet. He walked toward her and without saying anything pulled the dress over her head and off her body. As her hair fell around her shoulders, her looked down at her.

"I think you learned your lesson, but we'll find out for sure tomorrow, hmm?" The Joker said, pulling the blanket up for Desi. Desi laid down on the pillow, and as the blanket fell over her asked, "What's tomorrow?"

The Joker dropped the dress onto the floor and replied as he turned off the light, "Tomorrow I show you what's in the basement."

Chapter Text

"Ta-Da!" The Joker exclaimed as Desi slowly descended the staircase to the cellar. In the far corner, whimpering softly, was a little old lady. "This is Immelda Weston." Joker announced excitedly, "She's 79 years young, she enjoys knitting, and has seven grandchildren."

Desi chuckled softly at the presentation. The woman sat blindfolded in her housecoat, slippers covering her orthopedic socks. "Who...who is that?" she asked laughingly. Joker looked back at her and again to Desi. "That's Immelda. Good friend of mine." he started, "Say hello, Immelda." Following the silence, he replied, "Not much of a talker though."

Desi scratched at her dress and leaned in. "What is Immelda doing here?" She asked. Her spirits was incredibly lifted from the night's rest, and hope filled her that today would end the whole awful business. The Joker turned on his heels and licked his lips. "Well, she's here for you." he stated matter-of-fact. Desi pointed at herself, and The Joker nodded happily.

Desi took a step forward, leaned down and said, "Hello Immelda." The old lady trembled, and whispered, "Please let me go." Desi hopped up and walked back to The Joker. "For real, what are we doing?" she whispered. The Joker clicked his tongue and replied, "I though you wanted to be forgiven." Desi nodded, "I do. This dress is the death."

"Then impress me." He replied seriously. "There is your canvas. The worse to her, the better loved by me." He stepped back, and ushered her to the task at hand. Desi turned back to the old woman, unsure of what to do.

See, torture isn't as easy as one might think. Don't let the military fool you - they have think tanks. Standing in front of someone and coming up with things to do to them isn't as easy as Desi always imagined it would be while standing in line at the DMV. The old lady just sat there. Desi wondered if she had prayed or not. She stood there examining her.

Without warning, Desi walked forcefully to her and struck her hard with the back of her hand. "Where are the others?" she demanded. Confused, the old lady cried, "I don't know what you mean." Desi responded by slapping her harder.

"Don't toy with me!" she yelled. Blood collected at the corner of her mouth and she sobbed quietly. The Joker watched from behind, his excitement mounting. "People think you can avoid tragedy by being a good person." he began, "Well, that doesn't wash, does it Immelda?"

When she failed to respond, Desi struck her again. Immelda sobbed harder, "Please, I have a daughter. She's having a baby soon..." she cried. Desi stopped hard, and stood a few feet from her breathing heavily. The Joker walked up behind her, pressing his body into hers and smelling her hair. He brought his head down and licked the side of her neck, asking, "What are we doing next?"

As if intoxicated, Desi exhaled shaking, turned to meet his face and brought her knife into view. His smile spread enormous and he took a step back as Desi approached the old lady. She slipped the knife between the blindfold and the old lady's face. "Now, Immelda, I'm kind of a novice at this." Desi interjected, "So we're not gonna want to move around a lot, you know, that's how accidents happen."

He cut away her blindfold and fixed her eyes on the terrified old lady. "Okay." she started, "So we can get this out of the way; do you see anything on my face that...might say to you: Here is a girl who gives two shits about your daughter or her baby?" Immelda shook her head briefly.

"No. Well, that's good. There's no confusion then." Desi brought the blade to her nose and tapped it a couple of times. Desi stood, contemplating what to do. The Joker continued his point as he walked around the basement.

"The thing about tragedy is, well, its very self indulgent. Its largely a matter of perception. I mean one person's tragedy is absolutely nothing to another." he stopped, licked his lips and said, "To people like us, none of it's tragic. It's just part of the plan. In the end, everything falls to chaos in its own way. We're just one of those ways, Immelda."

The Joker stopped beside Desi and grazed her breasts with one of his hands. Desi got so excited she nearly dropped the knife. She went to the old lady and began carving things into her legs, letting the sharpness of the blade split the skin without going deep. As she cried out in unbelievable pain, Desi commented, "Just thank God Immelda, this could be your daughter. Or one of those beautiful grandchildren."

Joker sat back, watching his creation at work, a look of satisfaction washing over him. "Its the presence of random injustice that makes proof." he said as she worked. "Random injustice proves..."

Desi stopped and looked up at the old woman as she bled, "...that there is no such thing as justice." She concluded, finishing his sentence. Excited, she stood and walked to him. "I wanna strangle her. Can I?" She asked. The Joker looked hard at her, then brought his hands around her face and saying nothing, he slowly, warmly kissed her on the lips.

Desi stood with her eyes closed for a long time, a feeling nearing the intensity of orgasm surging through her. "Get to it then." He responded when she finally opened her eyes.

He started up the stairs, "See you when you're done. Bye, Immelda."

 

Desi came through the door without slowing down. The Joker sat at the table, looking over plans. Before he could stand or say anything, she crossed the room and grabbed him, kissing him hard. She brought her hands up his chest to his shoulders, and rested them around his face and head. When she broke with him, he looked up at her as she caught her breath. "Did you accomplish your task?" he asked.

"I did." she replied, "Damn it takes a long time to strangle someone. Remind me not to ever choose that again." She slid down to the floor, her hands sliding down to his thighs and her cheek resting just above his knee. "Are you pleased?" she asked. Instead of answering, she felt the breeze as he cut down the back of her dress, which he pulled apart, liberating her.

Desi took a deep breath, happy in a way she couldn't really describe. The Joker looked at her, a look of mild annoyance on his face. "I do have something for you." He commented, standing and stepping over her. She stood, brushed herself off and said, "Please tell me its clothing."

"Better." He replied over his shoulder, picking up the remote. He pointed and turned on the news, which was aglow with some sort of breaking story. He turned to see a Desi looking on and waved to her, "No no no. Over here." He said, motioning to the couch.

Desi, again down to her underwear, sat on the couch watching the television. The news was breaking about an explosion that apparently killed one in the lower Gotham area. "Look familiar?" The Joker said merrily. Just then she noticed it - it was her home.

"That's my old apartment." Desi said, pointing to the flames on the screen. "Everything I owned in this world." She stood and walked toward the huge screen, and watching as firefighters struggled with the blaze she turned back to the Joker. "Wow." she replied, "Thank you."

"Who was killed?" She asked. The Joker shrugged, "Some rookie cop." Desi scoffed. "Good thing didn't have a girlfriend." She pointed at The Joker and squealed. "It isn't even my birthday!" she exclaimed. She walked over to him, and he sniffed about her. "Why don't you go take a shower?" He asked.

"My god, you're right." Desi responded, "I reek of Jean Nate and death." She turned and began walking toward the shower, stopping just in front of the screen, still showing the fire. "Boom." She whispered, and turned to shower.

Desi hit the shower feeling completely renewed. She rinsed her hair and let the water pur over her body and felt completely right with the world. When she pulled the shower curtain and saw the black skirt and halter top waiting for her, she smiled, biting her lower lip. She didn't even wonder about his getting it there without her seeing.

She emerged a new woman. Slipping her feet into her heels, she stood before the mirror feeling free of everything connected to her previous life. She felt new. All the things she had done didn't weigh on her at all. She applied some lip gloss and listened for the sounds of visitors. Hearing none, she strolled into the living room to confront the Joker.

"New outfit." She said, rubbing her left calf with her right foot. "New underwear, too, I assume?" The Joker asked, amused. Desi shook her head slowly, "No underwear. Thought I'd let the girls out." She walked up to him, cupping his groin with her right hand and pacing her left of his shoulder. "I wanna drive this time." She said defiantly.

The Joker cocked his head, clicked his tongue and said, "Now, Desdemona, I have work to do. Let's not go getting ourselves in trouble just as we're getting out of it." He leaned in, his head still cocked to one side, "Besides, I drive, thems' the rules."

Desi smirked. "Then why are you so hard?" She asked, opening his pants and reaching into them. "Desdemon-" The Joker started, but was cut off. "Don't talk darling, you'll put me off." Desi said, "Ahh, there we are."
Desi bypassed his erection to fondle his testicles, and in doing so seemed to really upset the Joker. He looked into her eyes with growing anger in his eyes. She smiled at him, "Do something about it. Teach me a lesson." she challenged.

He grabbed her arm at the wrist and pulled it from his pants. As he wrestled it from her, she pulled away as he grabbed her other arm. Bringing them up, he turned her around, crossing her arms under her breasts and held her tightly to him. Breathing heavy, she laid her head back on him.

"Why do you do things you know will upset me?" The Joker says through clenched teeth, his nose pressed to her neck. Desi chuckled, "Because you are a better lay when you're mad." She slipped along his body, grinding into him as much as possible.

The Joker responded to this by carrying her, still pinned to him, to the chair he was sitting in. He sat and then pulled her slowly onto his lap. "Not quite." Desi said, "Um, let me." He released her and she straddled on of his legs and slipped down over him. They both immediately sighed from the pleasure of it. He then grabbed her hands again and pulled her down hard onto him.

Desi gasped, and then looking back replied, "See? I told you." She shifted her weight to her feet and rose, while he responded in kind pulling her by her hands back down to him. As their pace quickened, she leaned back into him with the occasional moan. "J-" she said as he lightly bit her shoulder. He grunted his acknowledgment as he pressed his forehead into her back. He released her hands and clutched her breasts tightly.

Desi cried out from the pain of his grip. "Take me to the bedroom. Please." she cried, moaning, "Oh, Please, J." He lifted her from him and she excitedly skipped to the bedroom. "Take everything off." He ordered.

"Yes sir." Desi replied mischievously. As Desi looked about the room, he came up behind her and blindfolded her. Desi gasped, unable to stifle her excitement. She laid on the bed, waiting for him. After a few minutes, she heard him. She then felt cold wetness around her nipples. As she writhed at the sensation, the Joker asked her, "Do you really trust me blindfolded?"

"Would I be able to stop you anyway?" She asked in return. "Good point." He responded, bringing the ice to her vagina. Desi shivered, gasping. He countered by penetrating her slowly at first, then forcefully, while his mouth went to work on her breasts. He lightly drug his teeth over them in between licking and squeezing them.

Desi stretched and moaned, clutching the bedspread and turning to bury her face in a pillow. She felt moisture at her lips and parted them to accept his fingers, sucking them lightly. They tasted sweet, and she realized he had honey on the tips of his fingers. Must've rubbed some...somewhere. she thought.

Joker brought his hand down her face, feeling her as he thrust ever harder into her. In that moment she was lost in an oblivion of him. Everything she did was for this moment, lost in the darkness, with him inside her. She moaned loudly as the first waves of orgasm began building.

She stretched and reached for him, settling in his hair. He had abandoned her breasts and was now buried in her neck, sucking with increased intensity. He took her right leg in his arm and used the extra space to grind ever closer into her. That's when the numbness came, enveloping her. She closed her eyes and bucked one long slow time, moaning loudly.

At this point, Joker was making animalistic grunting noises and laid his head on her chest and seized up, his orgasm only intensifying hers. They lay together for a moment, their moist bodies heavy from exhaustion. The Joker rolled away, onto his pillow. "A perfect ending to a perfect day." he said in between breaths.

"Not for me." Desi said, hopping out of bed. "I have an idea." She got dressed and went toward the main room.
"Don't get yourself arrested." The Joker called out before falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Desi watched nervously, spining her cup of coffee around the kitchen counter as she watched him. The Joker sat at the table, his upper body hidden behind a large scetchbook. He hummed softly to himself, occasionally reaching out to collect his cup or to return it. Desi bit her lip, anxious for his response.

After what seemed like forever, he tilted down the scetchbook, and looked across at her. He then jumped up and with incredible enthusiasm rounded the table. "It's just..." he started, extending his hands out to her, shaking them back and forth, "it's wonderful." Desi bounced at the review, thrilled with his response.

"I can't wait to do it!" He exclaimed. The Joker turned away from her and returned his attention to the book. Desi stopped short, a confused look on her face. "You want to do it?" she asked, part confused and part honored. "Of course." he replied, licking his lips, "This plan is amazing. You make Papa so proud."

Desi smiled big, then looked down, kneeding little circles into the floor with her feet. "I can come too...right?" Joker looked up at her, "Yes." he said, nodding as he walked toward her. "I need a girl on the inside." He ran his hand through her hair, and Desi began to hop merrily around the kitchen.

"We're gonna need a crew." The Joker said, returning to task. Desi stopped hopping and caught her breath giggling. "Yep." she added, "Want me to arrange that?" The Joker clicked his tongue while looking over the plans, "No, I'll do it." Looking up, he ordered, "You need to go to bed. Someone is going to need their beauty rest if they plan on crashing the Miss Gotham pageant."

Desi smiled sheepishly, "Yes sir." She began walking toward the bedroom slowly, keeping her eyes on him as long as she could. "I'll wake you whe the boys arrive." He called out as she walked away.

Sleep came, but not easily to Desi. She spread flat across the bed, letting the cool of the sheets comfort her, but she was plagued with worry. What if I screw up again? she wondered, Would he forgive me? What might the punishment be? Desi grabbed his pillow and held it over her face, trying instead to focus on his demeanor that morning. She ran her hands down her body and reaching the inside of her thighs, dug her nails in. Drawing her hands up as she scratched, she whispered, "Worthless, empty, less...than...nothing."

A rough hand gently shook her awake in the darkness. Her eyes still closed, Desi took the hand in hers and began the playfully bite the thumb. "Hmmm...hello." She moaned, opening her eyey to look up at the strange man standing above her. Her eyes snapped open as she spat his hand from her mouth. Covering herself, she inquired, "Who are you?"

The thief loomed over dumbly, "The boss said I should wake you." Desi sat up, throwing her black hair over her shoulder. "And you have." she replied, "Thank you." He left and she stood to dress, hearing howls of an amused psychopath echo from the next room. Walking to the door, she looked on as he continued to laugh. The room had about ten new men in it. She had not seen any of them before. She found herself wondering how many of the previous men were still alive.

"Desdemona here has etched out a top notch plan for us." The Joker announced, "So let's all give her our attention." He walked around the crowd, ensuring they were listening. Desi shifted, realizing she was now the focus of a room full of career criminals. She didn't relish being the center of attention, and would rather be among the crowd or in bed at the strong, powerful hands of her sexual....

The Joker snapped his fingers a few times, displeying his impatience. Desi swallowed, and started. "Ok, so in the vein of being a greater perponent of chaos, I have drawn up plans to disfigure the newly crowned Miss Gotham." Desi clasped her hands behind her nd looked among the men.

"Why?" asked one of the men. The Joker pointed to him and turned his eye to Desi, awaiting explaination. Desi cleared her throat, mildly annoyed with explaining herself to a group of thugs. "Well, for one, it's torture." Desi said with a laugh, "Who doesn't love a bit of that?"

The crowd fell silent, except for the Joker who raised his hand while looking around. Seeing that he was alone, he shrugged, dropping it. Desi smiled knowingly at him. "More to the point I guess is that Miss Gotham is a symbol. She represents perfection, or the illusion of the best Gotham has to offer."

She cut an eye to the Joker, who sat backwards in his chair, facing her. "Cutting the pretty off of that face would hurt her worse than if we killed her."

"Exactly." The Joker said, taking over as he stood. Her arms still behind her, she walked past him and sat in his chair. The crowd shifted about, absorbing the concept. "What about the girl?" another of the men asked.

The Joker squinted one eye momentarily before aswering, "The girl is incidental." He raised a single finger, "It's the fear." he added, waving the finger about. Desi straddled the chair, hugging the back. After a brief silence, she cleared her throat. "So boys," she asked, "How do we do it?"

The plan was shear genius. Desi was going to stand in for the costume mistress, who was going to have some trouble making it to the ampitheater. She would then simply let the Joker and his crew in after dispatching the single guard at the stage door. The crew would then move into the audience, keeping everyone in their seats for the main event, when the Joker would take the stage and take care of the beauty queen.

Desi walked around the small apartment looking at the knick knacks and pictures. It looked like her old place, and Desi immediately disliked it. Across from her sat the resident of the apartment, gagged and tied to the chair crying. Desi cut an eye to her, narrowing them as she commented. "Why the tears, hmm?" she asked solemnly.

The girl sat silent. Desi nodded understandingly. "Relax, I'm not gonna kill ya." she laughed. The girl closed her eyes thankfully, sighing to herself. "I just need the lamenants and keys for the pageant, that's all." Desi assured her, "Soon as I get those, I'm outta here."

The girl nooded toward the dresser with her head. Desi walked to it, and it the second drawer was a bundle containing her materials and keys. Lifting it, she asked, "Is this everything?" The girl nodded quickly. Desi straightened, "Okay!" she said excitedly. "That's me then. Thank you..." she said, looking at the paperwork, "Tiffany."

Looking to the boys, Desi instructed, "She's all yours boys, have fun with her." The girls eyes grew wide as Desi left and the men encircled her. Desi walked along the street, reached the corner and gave a knowing wave to the Joker's men watching from the adjacet building.

"Looks like she's solid." one henchman said as Desi flagged a cab and climbed inside. As she disappeared from sight, the men with him continued dressing in the police uniforms they had stolen that morning. Close inspection would show them to be lacking nametage and badge numbers. Luckily, few looked that hard.

The Joker walked among them as if gearing up for the homecoming game. He said nothing, his mind quietly working five moves ahead of the game. When the boys finished, they headed to the van they had to arrive at the ampitheater.

Desi arrived breathless at the back door of the theater, pinning the tags to her clothing. "You're late." The guard grumbled. Desi leaned in, placing a hand on his forearm. "I know," she said breathless, "my girlfriend had this party last night and I stayed up way too late. Oh my god, have you ever played 'beer pong?' It's like the most fun ever."

The guard made a face and opened the door. "Listen, thank you." Desi said sweetly, "I'll come back and bring you a soda, ok?" She turned and entered the room, which was a blur of Aquanet and chiffon. A thin and annoying ly effiminate man stormed up and demanded, "Where have you been?" He looked at her name tag, "Tiffany."

Desi rolled her eyes, "Sorry, my morning has been unbelievable." The man scoffed, "Well, you'll pardon me if I'm not interested. Let's get to work, these girls are not going to squeeze into these dresses all by themselves."

Desi dressed all the ladies, waiting patiently for the final event. As the swimsuit event drew to a close, she retrieved the soda, and adding from the small vial of cyanide, took it to the guard. She offered to the guard smiling, and thought to herself, This might bother me if the weren't so damned easy to kill.

With everyone watching the show on the stage, it was easy to open the door and let the henchmen pull the dying guard outside and replace him. As the imposter cops quietly filed in, Desi dashed back to get the final gowns ready, humming to herself.

The audience sat patiently, unaware of the conflict slowly building backstage. Bruce Wayne sighed and looked at his watch. He hated these events, and nightfall was soon. He turned, giving his date a reassuring smile and shifted in his seat, his mind wandering to all the destruction going on in Gotham the past few weeks.

The house lights turned down as the police began to change guards. Finalists began to walk confidently onstage, forming a garrish line of sequin glow. She girls clutched each others hands and the master of ceremonies opened hie envelopes. Girls stepped back until there were only two.

Desi looked to the door as the Joker emerged from it, looking more coiffed than usual. She snickered, covering her mouth as he walk by her and to the stage. The stage manager started toward him, only for Desi to stop him with one finger to his chest. "I wouldn't do that." she assure him, "I really wouldn't."

The crowd went wild as the new Miss Gotham was announced. She stepped confidently forward and knelt as the crown was placed atop her head. But before she could walk the runway she was interrupted as the Joker stepped, appluading, onto the stage.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" Joker announced, "Welcolme to the real show!" He crossed the stage toward the beauty queen as a lady from the audience screamed. Desi watched from the curtains, just lighting up as the joker grabbed the newest Miss Gotham.

Bruce looked around the auditorium, realizing the cops were with the Joker. He noted all the exits covered, and stood, making his way down the aisle. "Bruce!" his date called after him, but he disappeared into the group of now panicked patrons.

Joker held the woman close to him, noting her difficulty even breathing from fear. He leaned in to speak to her, turning her to stage right. "See that girl right over there?" he said, turning her face as Desi gave a little wave. "Well, she told me that you girls had no sense of humor." he added laughing, "It that true?"

The beauty queen looked up at him, frightened beyond words. After recieving no reply, Joker turned to the panicked audience. "What do you think, ladies and gentleman?" he shouted above the crowd, "Let's leave her in stiches."

Bruce looked around for a path backstage. With every exit guarded, he made his way to the front through the crowd, now standing and frantically moving around. He looked to the stage as the Joker turned to the girl and placed a knife in her mouth.

Desi sqealed as he brought the knife to her mouth, licked his lips, and watched her reaction. She looked at him, terrified as tears streamed down her cheeks. After enjoying her reaction as well as the hush that had fallen over the crowd, he pulled the knife across the crease of her mouth as he held the back of her head.

Blood poured over the stage and the beauty queen screamed, echoing through the accoustics of the theater. Desi laughed from offstage as he let her fall, her dress soaking up blood. The Joker turned to the audience throwing both hands in the air, and took a small bow as all the guards in the audience pulled out gas masks.

Putting them on, they pulled tear gas and set them off in the audience. Bruce took advantage of the ruckus and attacked the guard nearest the stage door. Knocking him out, he ran through the stage door and up the stairs backstage.

He arrived just in time to see the Joker and his backstage crew leaving. Desi turned back, and seeing Bruce look up from tending to the disfigured young woman, winked and blew him a confident kiss before pulling the door behind her. Bruce ran to it, but found it chained from the outside. Fishing his cell phone from his pocket, he called Alfred.

"Over already, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked, closing his book. "Alfred, listen to me." Bruce started, "Is there a police van or anything like that leaving?" Alfred looked around, "Yes sir."

"Follow it Alfred, I'm trapped in here." Bruce said, "And Alfred, be careful. Call me as soon as you know anything." Closing the phone, Bruce returned to the girl on stage. Collecting her up, he carried her off stage and to her dressing room to address her wounds.

From outside he could hear the police arrive and begin evacuating the auditorium. He pulled his phone and texted Gordon to alert him about the girl back stage, and then looked over her. She had lost consiousness and was in some sort of shock.

Gordon recieved the text and made his way backstage, but when he reached the dressing room, the girl was alone. Above her, an open window let in the breeze.

 

The Joker and his crew drove away triumphant, Desi resting her head in the Joker's lap. She had never been happier in her entire life. He let her lay there, but didn't touch her. He instead let his mind wander, processing both the action and its expected aftermath. She looked up at him as he sat pondering, in awe of him.

Nobody noticed the Bentley a block behind them, which parked quietly and waited as they switched vehicles nd dropped off small groups of thugs. As they made the final switch, Bruce called Alfred. "I made it out." Bruce told him, "Are you still tailing them?"

Alfred looked on, "Yes, sir. I believe this may be their last stop." Bruce stepped into the elevator of his penthouse. "Good. Text me the address of wherever they stop, and be careful." He slammed his phone closed and inserted his key, pressing the top floor.

Only Desi and the Joker remained, and as they appraoched the car, the Jokergrabbed her around her stomach. Pulling her against him, he asked, "You wanna drive tonight?" Desi squealed, and replied, "Can I?" From above her face, Joker began dangling the keys.

Desi's shoulders slumped, "Oh. Drive. Yeah." she said bemusedly, taking the keys as he laughed. As she got into the driver's seat, Joker climbed into the back. "Once more around the park." He ordered laughingly. Desi chuckled, "Cocktease." she sighed, turning the engine over.

Once they reached the loft, the Joker marched in, throwing his coat over the couch. He turned back to Desi and asked, "What's for dinner?" She walked toward the kichen, opening the small fridge and finding nothing but drinks. "Hmm." she said, "Guess I gotta go shopping." she said, turning around. "You go ahead and take your shower, and I'll run out and pick up something." The Joker followed her to the bedroom, and continued to the bathroom as she grabbed her trechcoat.

As the water turned on, she headed out to the market. She walked along these streets as if a barrier stood between her and everyone else. She feared no one, and felt completely in control of her situation. Even the market seemed a far cry from just a few days before. Everyone seemed to avert their eyes, as if they knew she wasn't one of them. She picked out two large steaks, potatoes for baking, and all the trimmings. She even bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate the occasion.

She paid for everything and began walking while planning out to events of the rest of the night. She traced the steps back as her mind wandered. She turned the last corner and ran right into someone, dropping her bags.
Bending to pick them up, she looked up to apologize. When she did, she looked up to find Batman.

Desi gasped, clutching her chest and falling back. He towered over her, saying nothing. After a moment, Desi looked about confused, "I thought you were a good guy." she said, annoyed, "I guess chivalry really is dead."

"You and I have something to discuss." he whispered through clenched teeth. Desi grew nervous, "I don't think so." she replied, brushing herself off as she stood. "Then we're going to have to do this the hard way." Batman responded, throwing his cape over her as he grabbed her.

Then, quick as a flash, all that was left on the street were the groceries.

Chapter Text

"Fuck off!" Desi spat. She pulled at her handcuffs, and looked out into the darkness where he stood. "You're not going anywhere until I find out what I want." Batman replied. Desi tapped her foot impatiently, "Oh, I'm sorry." she replied, "What I meant to say was: Fuck. Off. "

She rolled her eyes, and sat on her hands. Batman came into the lone light on above her. "You really think he loves you?" he asked. Desi smiled wide, leaning forward to look up into his eyes. "That's really good." she uttered silkily, "Can't slap me around. Got to attack me..." she pointed to her chest, "...in here? You must be so full of rage."

Batman stared at her. "The thing is," she continued, "I don't care really if he loves me. I mean, he's not gonna love me like regular, boring men." She shrugged, folding her arms over her knees. "Work each day, home by five, pedestrian sex." she shook, trying to banish the thought. "Those people are dead, we just haven't gotten to them yet."

Desi narrowed her look at him, "The question is: Who loving you, baby?" She chuckled, "Who's...who's waiting back at the...cave or whatever for you?" Batman came toward her, placing his hands on either side of the back of the chair and looming over her. "What should I expect when I go after him?" he demanded.

Desi cocked her head to one side. "I will never tell you where he is." she said solemnly. Batman stood, turning away and walking out of the light. "You need help." she said flatly. Desi raised her hands, "Yeah, handcuff keys would be nice." She began tapping them against the chair bottom between her legs.

"Aww, listen guy." Desi said into the darkness, "Don't take it personal. The 'bat' thing just doesn't do it for me. Not to mention, and I don't want to be 'that girl' or aything, but I can barely understand you. Maybe if you opened your mouth a little wider when you spoke...or something."

Batman walked toward her. "I'm taking you to Arkham." he seethed. Desi rocked back in the chair, "They'll never keep me. Besides, many nurses do you think I'll kill in your honor? How many cute orderlies will let their guard down for just a second."

Batman stopped, "You're place isn't in jail, you need professional care." Desi howled, "Oh yeah, because you...you are definitely the guy to make that call. Look at you, you pointy-eared freak! What's the matter, did mommy not hold you enough as a kid?"

Batman snapped, charging her in the chair. "Whoa, that struck a nerve, huh?" Desi commented, "Is mommy dead?" Desi poked her lower lip out, making a frowning face. Batman grabbed her, pulling her to her feet. "You wanna go home?" he snarled, "Come on, let's go."

Meanwhile, the Joker was throwing a fit. "Where is she?" he yelled, throwing a chair across the room. It hit just above the thug's head and exploded on impact. "Honest boss, we've looked everywhere." another hood answered, "We even called the police station. Our contact says nobody fitting her description has been brought in."

The Joker fumed, throwing her notepad and sending scraps of paper wafting through the air. "Maybe we could check the hospital." The first thug offered. Joker grumbled, storming off to his room as the thug called. "Check with the boys on the street!" he ordered from the bedroom.

The Joker paced around the room, his rage building. Where could she be? he wondered, It's been hours. If I have to go collect her from somewhere I really will kill her. He turned and continued to pace, his hands forming into tight fists inside his gloves. He turned again and walked into the main room. The hoods all looked at him, their expressions blank.

Several criminals began filing into the building. Each of them empty-handed. Finally one of them stood and said, "What if the Batman got to her?" An eerie quiet fell over the rest of the group, and Joker stopped momentarily. "What would Batsy do with her?" he asked, "He has no mind for frivolity, no sense of humor..."

Just then, all of them heard noise above them. Joker looked up as several crooks asked, "What the Hell was that?" The Joker just chuckled angrily, grabbed his coat and headed up.

Batman stood on the roof in the windy night. Desi stood, equal parts fear and rage surged through her. "How did you know where he was?" she asked angrily. Batman said nothing. You could hear the laughter long before you could see the lean purple frame appear in the darkness. Desi felt relieved to see him, but was immediately made uneasy at his demeanor.

"It's over, Joker." Batman said sternly. "Well well," the Joker replied, "Batsy playing with my toys. Tsk. Tsk." He looked hatefully at Desi, "This won't do at all."

"It wasn't me." Desi explained, "I didn't tell him anything. Tell him that." She said, turning to Batman. "I know everything, about your vehicles and your hideout. This time you're going away." Batman said sternly.

Desi pulled from Batman and ran across the roof toward the Joker. Extending her hands to show the handcuffs, she pleaded, "J, you know me. I wouldn't tell him anything. He brought me here after kidnapping me right off the street." She reached him, placing both hands on his chest. He looked down at her silently.

Desi looked back to Batman. "Tell him the truth!" she screamed, "Tell him I was loyal!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and for the first time, Desi was afraid. She feared not death, but the idea that he might not believe her. She turned back to him. "I would never help him." she insisted.

The Joker lifted her hands and using his knife, picked the handcuffs, letting them fall away to the rooftop. Desi held her wrists, rubbing them as he spoke. "That was wrong, Batsy." he began, "Taking my hobby away from me."

Batman replied, "She isn't a hobby, she's a human being. This ends tonight!" Batman took a step toward the Joker, who in turn grabbed Desi and held her close to him. She turned to face him, and watched as a smile crept across his face. Desi smiled in turn and kissed him on the lips.

He pulled away and hugged her, looking at batman as he did it. "Desdemona." The Joker said. Desi turned to look at him, "Yes." she replied quizzically, "Do we have a plan?" The Joker looked into her eyes. "Desdemona." he said again. Desi placed a hand against his face, "What is it?" she asked.

"She dies in the end." Joker replies, burying his knife into her stomach. Desi gasped, stumbled back and clutched her stomach. The Joker howled with laughter as Batman tryied to rush to her aid. Desi backed away chuckling, softly at first but in increasing volume until it was nearly as loud as the Joker's.

She looked at her hand, now covered in her own blood. Blood seeped from the creases of her mouth. The Joker continued his howling, "Look at that." he strained in between laughter, "Just one more person you couldn't save."

"It's okay." Desi said, stumbling backward, "I finally get it. I get the joke." She stumbled to the ledge, "And it's funny." She said, falling backward off the roof. The Joker laughed harder as Batman ran for the ledge, but could do nothing. In his rage, he turned and grabbed the Joker.

"Don't you get it?" Joker asked jovially. "She was mine, and I threw her away. It's funny." He continued laughing, "That's funny." Batman restrained him as he continued to chant, "She was right, it's funny."

Batman grabbed him and began to make his way to the street. "You're on your way to Arkham for a long stay." he said as they continued down the stairs. "You know, I made that." the Joker bragged. "That girl was a bookkeeper before me. Talk about starting with a lump of clay."

"You killed her, you piece of trash." Batman replied angrily. The Joker scoffed, "My clay, and besides, technically you killed her. We where gonna have dinner and fool around before you came into this." Joker looked convincingly at Batman, "Someone needs to take responsibility for their actions."

Batman responded by shoving his nearly hog-tied body into the batmobile. The Joker looked around, amused, "Is kind of plain, but I like it." he said as Batman climbed in an began driving to Arkham Asylum.

 

The Joker sat in new cell quietly. He was now dressed in Arkham's standard issue jumper, and his hair and face were without their color, so to speak. He licked his lips as he sat patiently in the center of the cot, twitting his thumbs. The door opened, and a very stern looking psychiatrist stepped in.

The Joker's eyes, once so alive, were now cloudy, and he focused on nothing. "Well, good afternoon, Mr. uhhh..." the doctor looked at the paperwork and lifting it to find nothing, looked up. The orderly blankly shrugged.

"Well, the police have sure had a busy morning." the doctor diverted as he sat down. "Just how exactly did you pull it off while lock in here?" The doctor asked. The Joker clicked his tongue and said nothing. "I mean, come on..." the Doctor continued, "Virtually every person in Gotham with the names 'Desi' or 'Mona' were killed last night. All left with your card. Why would you target those people?"

"It's called a requiem." He answered dryly.

The doctor sat back, uneasy from the comment. "Well, you're here now." he said calmly, "And we are going to commit to making you batter, and washing this 'Joker' persona away for good." The Joker rushed him, slamming him against the wall. The doctor shook, crying out, "Security! Help, somebody!" The Joker looked him in the eye, "This persona is the good part." He said, as security pulled him away. They threw him on the bed as he laughed and the doctor ducked out of the cell.

The laugh resonated down the hall as the doctor walked with the orderly. "That one's too far gone." The orderly said. "Now, now. No one is too far gone for treatment. We must keep our spirit's up." The Doctor said, "Still, he needs a lot of attention. Let's give this case to the new psychologist that just arrived. He should be more than enough of a starter." The doctor initialed the dossier and handed it to the orderly as he walked away.

Later that day, the Joker's cell opened and in stepped a fresh faced blond with big eyes. "Hello, my name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I will be treating you." The Joker sat up, a grin spread across his face. "Nice name." He said.

Across Gotham, sliding doors opened and in she limped. She was missing one heel, and her right shoulder swung limply out of its socket. She was filthy, and had coffee grounds stuck in her hair. Her shirt was pasted to her stomach with blood. Sitting down at registration, the dumbstruck attendant pulled a clipboard and handed it to her. Accepting it blankly, she brought it to her mouth and biting down onto it, she reset her shoulder.

She removed the clipboard and returned it with her teethmarks now etched into it. The attendant sat stunned for several minutes. Cracking her neck, she cleared her throat and with an extremely raspy voice, she whispered, "Thank you. Could I get a drink of water?"