Blood and Lust

CO-WRITTEN WITH LARISSAFAE

"Slumber Party"

Rachel tasted bile as she continued to sit staring at her captor, her hands folding and unfolding out of nervous habit as she sank in her seat. She couldn't believe her impulsiveness, but she'd encountered him in a dark alleyway and had rendered him completely unconscious. She'd never dreamed of needing to use her miniscule karate skills, but so far her lessons from her cousin had proved to be advantageous. But now the true question was what she’d do with the Joker now that she had him tied up in her living room?

Worrying her lip in between her teeth, Rachel anxiously glared back at the clown prince of crime, her heart palpitating with sheer contempt as she reflected on his cruelty and lack of compassion. Only days before he'd killed a school bus filled with children...children, for God's sake, and he'd been laughing the entire time, at that. All she wanted to do now was beat him to a pulp, but her more sensible side convinced her that it was best to negotiate. That is, if he ever woke up...

Peering over the Joker's prostrate form, Rachel gave a start when he coughed and grumbled something unintelligible. His eyes weren't open, so perhaps he was still asleep?

"You smell like applesauce." It was the first thing that came to mind when the Joker swam into consciousness other than the pain, so it was the first thing he decided to say. Then he flexed his wrists and ankles, testing the restraints that held him to the chair and noting that she'd taken his jacket and shoes off. Smart girl.

The Joker started giggling through his split lip as he opened his eyes. Christ, Rachel couldn't weigh more than a buck ten, and she'd kicked the crap out of him. He was almost half a foot taller, outweighed her by at least one-hundred fifty pounds, was quicker than her, and yet here he was, tied down to a chair in . . . yes, in her apartment. The ridiculousness of it all had tears streaming down his face as he peered up at her, eager to see if she got the joke.

"Wooowowowow," he cackled, "taking lessons from Batsy, are we? Ooh, you broke me..." He burst into a fit of guffaws, his sides hurting from it. "Sheesh, I think I picked the wrong arch-nemesis, little girl. Ow...oh, but it hurts so good!" he exclaimed, wide awake now and determined to be as much of an ass as possible. She'd earned it, after all.

He was still chuckling, fiddling with the rope binding his hands, trying to see if there was enough give to get them loose.

Scowling, Rachel felt the sudden compulsion to jab the Joker in the solar plexus, but she refrained from doing so and crossed her legs as she glared back at him. "Don't mock me" she warned, her lips twisting into an irritated pout. "And for your information, Batsy, as you call him, has nothing to do with this. You and I are going to have a little talk, alright?"

When the Joker grinned cheekily over at her, Rachel dug her nails into her palms until she drew blood, her eyes now an electric blue as she snapped, "Just tell me that you understand!"

"Ohhhhh, I understand so much, darling," he drawled, eyes crawling over her body. He giggled at her anger and flicked his bloody tongue over his lips. "Got anymore lipstick, doll? I'm, uh, in need of a little touch-up." He smacked his lips together loudly, then coughed and spit on her carpet. "Sorry; sinuses, y'know. They get to me sometimes. Oh, Rachel, Rachel," he sighed, "instead of bringing me to the police, you brought me to your place! Are you going to kill me? Batsy can't. He doesn't want to be a murderer, so he lets me kill over and over and over again, just to keep his own hands clean."

He crossed his eyes at her and stuck his tongue out. "But see, every time he doesn't kill me, and I kill more people . . . are his hands really so clean, after all that? The world may never know." He giggled and gave up on his hands for now, instead bouncing in the chair toward Rachel, eyes shining with excitement. "But will you kill me, Rach? Will you? Got the balls for it? Huuuuuh?"

Eyes alight with a molten fury, Rachel dug her nails in deeper amidst her flesh and clenched her teeth. "I've got more balls than you'll ever have" she seethed, her voice eerily quiet. "Anybody who murders children is nothing but a coward, Joker...you may find pleasure in something so despicable, but I do not. I could never murder anyone, even a scum bag like you."

Now rising so that she was towering over his smug form, Rachel felt her bottom lip twitch at the unnerving calm he currently exuded. The bastard was clearly enjoying her discomfort, and it was evident in the way he leaned back and gave her a sly grin. She wanted to strike him, but again she held her ground.

"Look" she began again, "I know that you have plans for my fiancé, and I've brought you here to change your mind."

The Joker gave a disgusted sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting back. "Oh, for Pete's sake," he muttered. "Honey, honey, you're missing the entire point!" He leaned forward, disappointment written all over his face. "Look, do the math, Rach. Batsy doesn't kill me, he lets me go…I kill people. He catches me, I get away and kill more people! You're saying that my life is more important than everyone else's; do ya see what I'm getting at? I feel so special, I really do, thank you so much, but there's something wrong with the fact that you guys don't put a bullet through my brain when you get the chance! Splooch!" he shrieked, cackling again.

When he calmed down a bit, he pouted at her. "And honestly, honey-bunches-of-oats, I don't puh-lan things. Seriously. Look at me." He jerked his head down and then raised his eyes back up at her. "And hmm, why do you smell like applesauce?"

Rachel folded her arms in disgust. “Well why do you smell like soy sauce and turpentine!? None of my personal business is any of yours, so just…just…” Frustrated, the assistant DA finally gave in to her desires and struck him clear across the face. The force of the impact surprised herself (and most likely the Joker, as well), but the stinging sensation tingling along her palm felt deliciously merited.

"You're lying" she rasped out, her hand clenching as she fought not to strike him again. "You wouldn't have come to Harvey's fundraiser if you didn't have plans for him."

Now seizing him by the lapels of his ridiculous shirt, she hissed, "Tell me what you have planned before I'm forced to do something I regret!"

As soon as Rachel said these words, she immediately wished that she could retract them. Regret, after all, was the last thing she could feel in regards to the Joker's physical agony.

The Joker laughed, breathless and elated. "Do it!" he screamed at her, jerking forward in his restraints with a manic grin. "Do it! Do something you'll regret!" Then he hunched his head between his shoulders and gave her a sideways grin. "Did I tell ya what I did to the brats first?!" He whooped with laughter as she shook him, his head snapping back. "Owwwww . . . Sheesh, just wanted to, uh, offer a con-tri-bution to Harvey's cam-paign . . . offer a little re-lation-ship advice, since it seems you're ob-viously not getting all that energy worked out of ya . . . Anyone ever done the ABC thing to ya?" He jerk backwards as she came for him, tipping over and cracking his head on the floor. "Ooooh . . . Hey, I do smell like soysauce . . . weird!"

“Shut up!” Rachel screamed, her eyes brimming with tears as she reflexively kicked him in the stomach. When he tensed and began whooping with laughter, she gritted her teeth when she realized that he enjoyed the pain. “You’re sick” she hissed. “God, you’re sick! Why can’t you just go back to wherever the hell it is you came from and terrorize those people, instead!?”

Falling down to her knees, Rachel seized him by his tie before snapping, “And if you ever come near Harvey again, I swear to God, I will kill you.” Although the threat was relatively hollow, a chill trickled down her spine like ice as she realized that if she wanted to do it, she could.

The man before her was suddenly serious. "I was born in Gotham," he told her, his voice a light tenor. Then he shrieked again with laughter. "So I'm terrorizing the hell I came from!" He laid his head on the floor and rolled his eyes up at her, licking his lips. "The next time I get my hands on Harrrrrvey," he purred, "I'm going to kill him. So go ahead, be like Batman and let me go, so that you can let Harvey die because you couldn't finish me off."

He took a deep breath and with a heave, brought his arms up, over his head -- winced as they popped partially out of the joints -- and over Rachel's head, pulling her down and crushing his lips against hers.

"Because if you don't kill me tonight," he growled against her mouth, "I'll kill you all, Rachel Marie Dawes."

Then he truly did kiss her, a big, sloppy, wet kiss, dissolving into giggles as he rubbed his cheek against hers.

Outraged by his unanticipated maneuver, Rachel struggled amidst his heated embrace before punching him straight in the gut. She heard him give a giggle-filled ‘oof!’ when her fist connected with his middle, her eyes blinded by tears as she screamed, “I won’t let you kill him, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!” Beating against his chest with her fists, she felt the tears stream down her cheeks in hot torrents, her bottom lip quivering as she sobbed, “God, what do you want from this city? We have nothing you need, nothing you could possibly benefit from…if you want me to kill you so badly, why don’t you just do the damn deed yourself!?”

Suddenly afraid that she had overstepped her boundaries, Rachel fell silent as she forced herself to gaze back into the Joker's mercilessly dark eyes.

He looked derisively heartbroken as he pulled her down, cradling her head against his chest as he rocked side to side as best he could. "Oh, Rachel, Rachel, shhhhh, quiet now . . ." He kept murmuring comfortingly in her ear, pressing kisses to the top of her head. "This city has everything I need, Rach, everything. Hot little assistant D.A.'s, huge freaking bats crusading against evil, knights in shining armor . . . everything except criminals worthy of that name, and that's what I'm giving to you, don't you see?" His heart was pounding in his chest, next to her ear. "I don't want to die, sweetie, I want this whole fucking city to burn! I want all you mindless little rats to realise the scientist's maze you're in and break free ofit!" He jerked his aching shoulder until she looked up at him, gazing into her eyes to see if she understood. "Don't you see, Rachel Ma-rie? Hm?"

"You're insane" Rachel declared, her eyes widening as she found herself frozen beneath his intense gaze. It was as if he were a snake and she, the poor little mouse that he'd bitten and paralyzed. "How can you honestly believe that we need you? This isn't National Geographic, you lunatic...we don't need an outer force to mess with the food chain!"

Scowling, she hotly added, "Now let me go before I'm forced to hurt you!" As she said this she poised her knee in preparation for firing it straight at his groin.

Her current position overbalanced her perfectly. The Joker heaved himself to the side, grunting as the chair thwacked him in the back of the skull, and ground his hips into hers as he forced his way between her legs. It wasn't easy, and she was making such a fuss, but he bit down on her pretty little throat until she held still.

"The first thing in this situation, dearie," he growled into her ear, "is that you never let someone know you're about to hurt them!" He shifted and then bit her cheek with a frown. "Secondly, I am not insane, or crazy, or anything like THAT. Understand, beautiful?" He licked the teeth marks on her cheek slowly, firmly, then kissed them. "Now, I don't know about you, but I've got all day to stay here like this with you. And it you try to knee me in the groin, I'll bite your fucking nose off."

His eyes crossed briefly and the Joker shook his head, then looked down at his captive captor. "Shoulda just called the police, toots. Oh, well. I'll find a way to amuse us . . ." He worried his lower lip, glancing around to see what was in reach. "Need out of these ties, right?" he asked Rachel brightly. "Or maybe you could spew some more of your bullshit at me."

Rachel whimpered as she laid deathly still beneath his solid form, her breathing coming in slow, soft pants as her heart pounded in her chest like a boxing glove. She hated the way he bit and groped at her as if she were some object to be claimed, but what's worse was the fact that her body clearly found his administrations to be terribly erotic. Grimacing, she squirmed before snapping, "If you'd get off of me, I-I could untie you..."

Feeling her injured cheek stinging from the Joker's bites, Rachel shuddered as she felt him moving against her like before. She was so tense she could've easily been snapped in two, but for her own sake of survival, she wanted to appear strong.

The Joker gave her a look of genuine puzzlement. "Get off on you?" Then his expression cleared. "Oh! Get off of you. Damn, for a moment I thought you were one kinky bitch." He shook his head again and wiggled his hips in imitation of her. "Though gee, Rach, are you sure you said get off of? I mean, your body's gotta be reacting by now, if y'know what I mean." He grinned at her, still idly moving his hips across hers. "Does it bother you, getting turned on by this situation? Oh, what would Harrrrvey think? Would he . . . under-stand the way female physiology works, I wonder?" His voice lowered to a growl. 'Cause I do."

Biting her lip, Rachel promptly turned her face so that she was glancing off to the side, her breaths growing steadily labored as she felt his firm arousal grinding against her pelvis. "Stop it" she whimpered, her breasts thrusting outward as she tried to struggle free once more. The only thing she succeeded with this action was aggravating her already stimulated nub, a soft whine escaping her lips as she pleadingly looked up at the Joker with the hopes of him releasing her. Suddenly finding her voice, she rasped, "I-I'm not turned on by this at all...you've got a lot of nerve for bringing up Harvey and his ability to...to..." Unable to finish, she blushed when she squirmed about and groaned. Trying to close her parted legs, she winced when she felt the Joker deter her actions and keep them firmly spread, her heart rate rapidly accelerating as she suddenly felt that she was trapped with nowhere to run.

It would be working better if his ankles weren't still tied to that damned chair. Joker grunted again. "I wasn't talking about Harvey's sexual prow-ess, Rachel Ma-rie," he said sharply. "Geez, I'm just screwing around with you. Look, you were doing so damned good," he said encouragingly. "Got me tied down, you were smacking me around . . . then you lost it. Come on, Rachel, take some charge of the situation!" He sucked on her wounded cheek for a moment, tongue worrying the indentations his teeth had left, then he hooked his still-tied hands around her waist and hauled them both up, her on her rear and he on his knees. "Look, now . . . oh . . . fuck . . ." The Joker swayed as the blood rushed to his cracked head, and he slowly toppled over as his world went black once again

Quivering from both fear and arousal, Rachel trembled as she quickly scrambled out from under his limp body, her hand passing over her mouth as she wondered how in God’s name she’d allowed him to get the upper hand like that. As much as it infuriated her to admit it, the Joker was absolutely right; she’d been doing so well, and then all of a sudden her brain had turned to mush and left her completely defenseless.

Rising on wobbly knees, Rachel apprehensively took the Joker by the collar and yanked him and his chair back to their rightful position. To her disgust, she found that her panties were still damp from his administrations, her teeth gnawing into her lower lip as she shakily sat down on her chair and tried to ignore the pounding in her head.

Rubbing at her throbbing temples, she realized that the Joker's sudden fainting spell could easily buy her some time. Not for long, of course, but enough to help her regain her bearings.

Retreating from her spot on the plush chair, Rachel hurriedly grabbed her switch blade from her desk drawer and returned to the Joker with it held purposefully in between her fingers.

The Joker dragged himself back to consciousness again, but this time his head was throbbing more than it usually did.

"Padded chairs," he mumbled thickly. His mouth was dry and he was starting to get hungry. "Geez, what's a guy gotta do to get some food around here?" He looked up at Rachel through his eyelashes and snorted at the knife she held. "Whatcha gonna do?" he slurred. "Cut me? Doesn't sound like a bad time, you know . . ." God, how hard had his head been hit the last few hours?

Frowning, Rachel snapped, “You nearly rape me, and you actually expect me to feed you? I’m afraid you’re going to be sitting there for quite some time, because until we resolve our differences, I’m afraid you won’t be walking free or eating.” Holding the blade out for good measure, she added, “I won’t call the police, but only because I want to do things my way.”

The Joker snapped his chin in toward his throat, giving her a strange look. "Nearly rape you? Nearly rape you? Rachel Ma-rie, if I'd nearly raped you, your pants would be off at the very least. Besides," he said with a shudder, "it's not fun if they're not willing. And, uh, don't the Geneva conventions say something about not abusing prisoners? Or are we just saying "Fuck you, civilized society, I'm gonna follow my own rules!"? 'Cause, uh, that's the way you like to play things." He eyed the knife in her hand, the set of her jaw, and raised his eyebrows. "Or maybe not," he murmured to himself.

Then the Joker settled back in the chair, raising his bound hands to rub at his shoulders and adjust his tie more neatly. "So, Rachel Ma-rie, how's this gonna go? I have to ask that you don't touch the clothes -- they were a bitch to sew up and I've run out of the fabric I used." He clicked his tongue against his teeth as he watched her intently.

Rachel couldn't help but smirk. "You mean to say that a man who cares little for his appearance cares about his clothes? That's rather materialistic, don't you think?" Tightening her grasp about the blade, she placed a hand on his shoulder before tracing the metal tip along his chin, suddenly able to understand why he'd reveled in her fear at the fundraiser. The feeling she received from holding the instrument of death thrilled her, the blade now tracing in a threatening fashion toward the collar of his prized clothing.

"Now that we're finally getting somewhere, I'd suggest that you stop calling me Rachel Marie" the assistant DA firmly urged. "We do not know each other, nor will we ever get the chance, so the very least you could do is treat me with respect. Fair?"

"Hey, babe, pride in what you create. I create anarchy, and I'm proud of it. I create my own clothes, and I'm proud of them." The Joker was content to let her play her games, tilting his chin into her blade with a knowing smile for her. "But, if you in-sist, what do you want me to call you?" He swallowed convulsively and his pulse pounded in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about how easy it would be to knock the knife from her hands, seeing as she hadn't retied his hands behind him. This was just so . . . fascinating.

"Where do you want me to start?" he whispered. "Wanna know about my old man? Great guy. Loved him to death. My uncle, however . . . not such a nice guy. Had a problem with his dick, y'know. Real small. Could only get it up around dicks smaller, and hey, mine was the only one smaller at the time." He was watching her, eyes clouded over with simmering anger and the beginnings of another fit of hysteria.

Rachel balked, her tongue swabbing her lips due to the sudden dryness that had overcome her mouth. "W-what the hell does that have to do with anything?" she demanded, truly horrified by the potential ending of his story. Trying to appear unfazed, she used her free hand to hold his head still as she traced the knife back up toward his chin. His gaze chilled her, but she refused to meet with the eyes that seemed like abysmal pools of never-ending darkness.

"Just wanted to get to know you, Miz Dawes," Joker whispered. "Get a little . . . background going on. Doesn't everyone want to know why I am how I am? How would you react to being raped and beaten every summer when your parents went on vacation and you were left in your uncle's ten-der care? Starved? Come on, Miz Dawes, why the long face?" He drew back, his brow puckering. "Is it the scars? It is, isn't it? It's always the scars. Mom never quite hugged me the same after she and Pops got back and I had them. Always wondered why I'd suddenly snapped and murdered my dear, suh-weet uncle. Never did bother learning the truth of it all."

He relaxed, suddenly seeming exhausted, and closed his eyes. "Your turn, Miz Dawes. Tell me all about yourself."

Shaking, Rachel suddenly retracted the knife and stared back at him in mute horror, her heart clenching painfully at the thought of any child having to undergo such trauma…such agony. “I-I didn’t know” she stammered, “I mean… …I’m sorry. Really.”

Dumbly holding the knife at her side, she felt as if she owed him somewhat of a story as well, so she slowly sank into the chair across from him and spoke. “I’m very boring…nothing exciting, which is probably why I chose to be a lawyer in the first place, now that I think about it. I’d always look forward to camping trips in the summer, but that’s about it.” Smiling wistfully, she added, “That was the only time I could escape from Gotham…the only time I could truly be myself.”

Suddenly realizing that she was pouring her heart and soul out to a madman, Rachel shook her head and grumbled, “But that doesn’t matter…the past is in the past. All that should truly be on our minds is the here and now.”

"Sssssuuuuure," said madman dragged out, chewing on the inside of one cheek. "Let's rap. Look, Miz Dawes, I just . . . do things, see? I don't plan anything out -- too many chances for failure that way. So asking what my plans for Harvey and the city are is like asking . . . well, something stupid, right? 'Cause I don't have a plan. I don't con-cern myself with, with consequences or societal norms." He was licking his lips as he spoke. "I don have the burden of a conscience, Miz Dawes, so I do whatever I damn well feel like doing. You understand?"

Rachel screwed her lips into a frown, but her body acted before her brain when she suddenly moved forward and began to unfasten his bindings. "Fine" she irritably agreed, "if you don't have a plan, then just get the hell out...I'm sure you know by now that I could never kill you, so I'm sure I've failed whatever psychological test you've got brewing inside that twisted mind of yours."

"It's about fucking time," the Joker snapped irritably. He sprang up and pushed her onto the floor, then laughed as he skipped into the kitchen and flung the fridge open. "I'm so hungry," he said as he unscrewed the milk cap and guzzled it right out of the jug. After that, he set it roughly on the counter and ignored the bit that sloshed onto his sleeve, flinging cupboards open until he found some bread. He turned back to the fridge and pulled out a head of lettuce, some cheese, mayonnaise, a tomato, and some turkey slices. He hummed to himself as he tipped drawers onto the floor until he found a butter knife, then merrily started making himself a sandwich. "Uh, you want a sammich or what?" he called out to Rachel.

If she wasn't going to kill him, and wasn't going to call the police, he might just stick around; she was getting more and more interesting.

Furious, Rachel staggered back up to her feet before hollering, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing!? I said get out, not make yourself at home! Or perhaps I stuttered?" Impatiently tapping her foot against the floor, she narrowed her eyes as she irefully watched him make a mess out of her kitchen. When he drew near a particularly valuable heirloom, she hissed, "Watch it! My grandma gave me that, you goon!"

The Joker looked over his shoulder at her and blinked, then picked up the heirloom and put it on the highest shelf he could find, well out of Rachel's reach.

"For safekeeping," he told her with a wink, then slapped his sandwich together and brushed past her into the living room. He plopped himself onto her couch and grabbed the remote control, flipping the TV on and settling in to watch the news.

Feeling her nerves wearing thin, Rachel tugged irritably on his arm before snapping, “Did I say you could sit there? That’s my couch! And hey, give me that! That’s my remote!”

Leaning over the top of the couch, she reached for the device as the Joker smugly moved it out of her grasp just when she’d nearly caught it. “Dammit, stop that!” she shrieked, the momentum of her movements causing her to topple over and fall headfirst against the cushions. When she heard his laughter, she shrieked, “Get out, get out, get out!”

Being outsmarted by a clown was one thing, but having him play house with her belongings was another.

"Geez, Miz Dawes, calm down. Did it ever occur to you that I don't have anywhere to go?" He turned to her and threw his arm across the back of the couch. "Hey, I've got a great idea. You, uh, you let me stay here tonight, I don't kill anybody, and then I'll leave in the morning! Give ol' Batsy a little break, huh?" He took a huge bite of his sandwich and gestured at her with it as he talked around his food. "Te' 'oo whu'," he said and as he swallowed it, "I'll even take a shower. Get nice and clean, whaddya say?" He took another bite, making a pleased sound. "And really, why do you smell like applesauce? Please note I'm not, uh, smelling you right now."

Feeling her blood pressure spike through the roof (her doctor had warned her about her stress levels; guess she hadn't counted on running into a psychopathic clown on the way home), Rachel's lips bitterly screwed into a deep-set scowl. "How is it my problem that you have nowhere to go? Maybe if you were a tad more congenial, you'd be getting invites to all sorts of slumber parties, but seeing as to how you're a raving lunatic, I don't see that happening any time soon. Now if you'll kindly get your ass off my favorite side of the couch, take your overcoat, and walk right out that door, I'd be very much appreciative."

When the Joker failed to respond, she growled, "Look, you are not taking a shower with my soap and my towels! I'm the only one allowed in there, understand!?"

And because the Joker had been told he wasn't allowed, of course the bathroom was where he headed as he finished off the sandwich.

"Hey, you can scrub me down if you're that worried about your, uh, your puh-recious towels," he offered. He started unbuttoning his waistcoat, watching her in the mirror. "Oooh, Herbal Essence! An or-gan-ic experience! Just think about it, doll. If I'm in here, I'm not out there, and people aren't dying. See? Easy-peasy!" He dropped the waistcoat to the floor and yanked off his tie, then started on his shirt. "And oooh, can we tell ghost stories tonight? I know some great ones!"

He sounded soexcited about sleeping over and telling ghost stories, his face all lit up in an eager grin.

Seeing the Joker removing his clothing, Rachel felt a sense of panic flare within her as she rushed forward and halted his hands. "Stop that!" she squeaked, her eyes wide as saucers. "Rule number one while in my apartment...NO naked men! You're not Harvey, so...so...dammit, just put your clothes back on!"

Quickly scooping up the scattered raiment, Rachel pushed them into his arms before giving him a firm look. "And just for that, no ghost stories...not that you were allowed to stay here, anyway."

Brown eyes stared at her in utter incomprehension. "Uh, Rachel, look, do you even realize what I'm offering to you?!" he bellowed as he grabbed her upper arms and forced her back against the sink. "I am quite capable of raping you, killing you, and sending you inpieces to Harvey over the next ten weeks!" He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants and yanked them down. "Do you think I give a fuck about the people out there?! Would you listen to yourself?" He slammed his shoulder into her stomach and then pulled her close, one hand around her throat as his scars rubbed against her cheek. "You'd really rather I be out there killing people than sleeping here? I'm a man of my word, Rachel, and when I say I won't kill anyone tonight if you let me stay here, I mean it."

He pushed away from her with a snarl, then continued to slowly unbutton his shirt. The skin that flashed into view was covered with bruises and scars, some new, but mostly old.

"So really, one more time… Are you and I going to have a nice little suh-lum-ber party, or am I going to find a pregnant woman and rip her fetus out of her? Isn't your neighbor across the hall pregnant?" he asked acidly.

Quivering, Rachel nodded dumbly, her pride becoming wounded when she realized how small her voice sounded in her throat as she tried to speak. "Yes" she finally managed to choke out, "Y-you can stay here...for a while."

Numbly glancing down at her pants pooling about her ankles, she thought of reaching down to pull them back up over her thighs, but she realized that she was far too frightened to turn her back on her 'guest'.

Suddenly remembering how he'd kissed her earlier during their encounter, she became fearful as she dared to ask, "W-why do you want to stay here, anyway? Isn't there some nice little hotel you could go to? Er...or something?"

The Joker looked at her scornfully as he peeled his shirt off, biceps and pecs flexing as he did so. "Why would I want to pay money for something I can get for . . ." and now he flicked his gaze up and down her body, ". . . free? Besides," he continued as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, "who else am I going to tell ghost stories with?" His pants came down in one swoop and to Rachel's complete surprise (not to mention relief), he was wearing boxers that matched his shirt.

The Joker toed out of his shoes and pulled his socks off, then placed his fists on his hips and stared down at her.

"Now, if you're not going to take a shower with me, and you don't want to see my penis, get the fuck out." She was going to have to push past him to get to the door, or take the easier route that led along the side of the bathtub.

Practically jumping straight out of her skin at his answer, Rachel picked her pants up off the floor and slowly edged around him, her heart pounding like a water drum within her ears as she tried to block out the formidable figure at her side. The memory of how he'd affected her earlier that evening frightened her, so she most certainly felt it in her best interest to get out of that bathroom as soon as humanly possible.

Legs quivering, Rachel suddenly wished that she'd chosen to put her pants on, her teeth gnawing into her lower lip as she ignored the sensation that she was being watched from behind.

Unfortunately for Rachel, she'd chosen the route that put her in as little contact with the Joker as possible. This meant that she moved toward the shower, not away from it, which was a very particular distinction in the Joker's mind.

"Well, geez, Rachel," he remarked as his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, "if you wanted to scrub me down, why put up such a fuss?" He pulled her up against him, stepping on her pants to keep her feet still as his free hand went to her shirt, tugging it up. "Still, I kinda hurt from all those beatings you gave me, so some help getting clean would be nice."

She was struggling and making a commotion, so he grabbed her hair and brought his mouth close to her ear. "Look," he hissed, "not every man wants to stick his dick in you, all right? At least, not all the time. And right now, right now all I want is a nice, long, hot shower, a good scrub, and then to tell some ghost stories. I'm not going to rape you, you narcissistic bitch." He pushed her into the shower and reached in, turning it on. "Now, are you going to take the rest of your clothes off, or am I?"

Whimpering, Rachel shied away from the Joker as he made a motion of reaching for her top, her fingers trembling as she turned her back to him and pulled it over her head in one full sweep. Ignoring the dizziness she felt due to the heat of the shower and the sensation of his burning eyes, she glanced hesitantly over her shoulder before easing her bra off of her lithe form and tossing it out onto the linoleum flooring. As she did so, she sensed the Joker stepping in alongside her, her body instantly tensing as she scooted away from him. She didn't want to remove her panties, for she felt that it was the one thing that kept her rapidly fading dignity in place.

"You shower with your panties on?" the clown asked snidely. "What, saving money on laundry or something?" He pulled his boxers off and tossed them out of the shower, then stepped under the hot stream and hissed as it melted the greasepaint on his face, sending it in rivulets down his throat and chest, slowly revealing the tanned skin that laid beneath. He grabbed Rachel's loofah and poured some body wash onto it, scrubbing at his face before glancing over his shoulder at his hostess. "Well? Get to cleaning."

The man tossed her the loofah, then turned back around and rested his forearms against the wall, letting the hot water beat down on his neck and upper back as he bowed his head. He sighed under the soothing pressure, his muscles slowly relaxing in the heat as the water traced patterns amongst all his scars.

Trembling, Rachel squeaked, "Y-you mean you want me to clean you? I thought...um...weren't you joking?"

When he didn't answer right away, she suddenly fell at a loss for words when she realized that there was little to no war paint on the Joker's face. Her mouth falling into a surprised little 'o', Rachel then realized that she was one of the few people to ever see him in such a vulnerable state, and the thought somehow made her feel a sense of power. He was no longer superior to her, but on her own level.

The Joker craned his head too look at her over his shoulder, his eyes weary.

"Look, Rach," he said, "do you know what happens if I rape you? I mean, it's one of the few things I've never done, but I'm sure I could get it up for the duration. But if I rape you, I don't know that you're on birth control, or if you've been taking it properly, and I know I don't have condoms on me, so in order to prevent you from getting knocked up, I'd be forced to kill you. And if I'd been joking about you cleaning me, I'd have stopped talking about it after it stopped being funny." He turned back to face the wall, muttering his next words. "Now start cleaning -- and I mean everywhere, and be gentle with the man-bits -- before I rethink my lifelong no-rape stance."

Pressing her lips into a grim line, Rachel apprehensively stepped forward and ran the loofah across his back, her lips twisting downward as she feared that he might break. He just seemed so delicate at that moment, and each cut, burn, and scar reminded her of what this man was truly capable of. Running a hand along a large laceration out of curiosity, she jumped when she thought she felt him move in disapproval.

Biting her lip, Rachel uneasily placed the loofah back along his spine before tracing up a particularly curious scar, her legs trembling as she realized that the scars on his body were far more frightening to her than the ones on his face.

"Do they hurt?" she asked, instantly regretting it the moment the words left her mouth.

The Joker was silent for a long time, breathing shallowly through his mouth as his greasy hair framed and hid his face. He'd made a lot of women bathe him before, but none of them had ever been concerned about his scars. Terrified, yes, but never worried. Ah, hell, he'd indulge her.

"Just the new ones." He shifted and let out a sigh when she rubbed over a tense muscle, ignoring his body's reaction to her presence. He was a man of his word. "Every scar hurts when it's new." He cracked his neck and sighed again, eyes closing under her touch. "Harvey's a lucky guy, if you bathe him like this," he remarked.

Rachel blushed. "I-I've never done something like this before" she admitted, cursing herself for having confessed something so personal. She was beginning to feel guilty while she touched the Joker, for each caress was far more intimate than anything she'd ever done for Harvey. They'd made love, sure, but she'd never actually taken the time to study every curve and contour of his being.

"Turn around" Rachel urged, her eyes carefully remaining on the back of his head so that she wouldn't be forced to see anything she didn't wish to.

The man tilted his face up to the stream of water and chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then straightened and slowly turned toward Rachel.

"Gonna remember my hair?" he murmured. He licked his lips absently as he stared at her, dark circles under his eyes, pulling his lower lip between his teeth to worry the scar there, then licking his lips some more. Then he leaned down to her ear, arousal brushing against her leg and causing her to jump. "I said wash everywhere," he reminded her silkily as he ran his fingers through her wet hair. "But I am a man of my word." With that reassurance, he straightened and made a small show of clasping his hands behind his back. He continued his heavy stare, a slight smirk on his lips as he waited for her to touch him again.

Blushing, Rachel mumbled an unintelligible string of words as she ran the loofah across his scarred chest, her lip quivering when she realized it was far more scarred than his back. Allowing her hand to trace along what appeared to be a former bullet wound, Rachel shivered before moving her hand away from the scar as if she'd been burned. She'd never been so close to a human map of destruction before, so she couldn't help but be fascinated by the endless patches of puckered flesh. Now grazing her hand against his cheek, she reached up and gently ran her fingers through his hair, her gaze softening when she noted how human he looked at that moment. He was no longer a monster, but a man. A normal, regular man. It was a thought that could've made Rachel smile, but instead she pushed it to the far corner of her mind and massaged her hands against his scalp.

"Do you want shampoo? I only have girly scents" she mumbled, still fairly embarrassed.

"Of course I want shampoo," he told her, his voice still low as he leaned into the massage. She'd left his arms and the area below his waist alone, but he was willing to let her finish with his hair first. He knelt down slowly, knees popping as he did so, never taking his eyes from her face as his lips hovered just above her pantyline. "Saving the best for last, Ms. Dawes?" he whispered, barely audible above the shower. His eyes were clouded with desire and his breathing was irregular, throat working as he swallowed. "Come on," he whispered. "Make me smell pret-ty. Make me smell like you."

"You mean like applesauce?" Rachel quipped, her tone admirably calm as she squirted a quarter-sized amount of shampoo into her palm. Now running her hands through his greasy strands, she smiled before confessing, "I never honestly thought you washed your hair...must be a new thing for you."

Choosing to ignore the way he was looking at her, Rachel helped him rinse the suds from his hair as she suddenly realized what he'd said earlier. Blushing, she asked hopefully, "Um...done?"

The naked man in front of her raised his hands to her hips and rubbed them, appreciating their curves.

"Rachel, darling," he rumbled, "you're a smart girl. I know you heard all of my instructions. If I have to tell you again, I'm going to start carving into your de-li-cious skin." He flicked his tongue out along the top of her panties, left to right and back again, still rubbing her hips. "Now do what I told you." His voice was almost a growl at this point, it was so low.

The Joker stood up smoothly, resting his wrists on Rachel's shoulders as he stared at her. The maniac grin was gone, and he was deadly serious.

Trying to slow the soft, excited pants of her breathing, Rachel cursed when an all too familiar ache began to flair within her loins, her slim form trembling as she felt the heat radiating from his body onto hers. Closing her eyes, Rachel nodded feebly in agreement, her hands quaking as she slid the loofah across his torso and down toward his hip.

Fear and intrigue held her captive at that moment, her heart practically beating out of her chest as she drew nearer so that she could better accommodate her actions. Not wishing to tell him to turn around again, Rachel instead gave him a loose embrace so that she could reach around his back, her cheek momentarily resting against his as she drew the loofah across his backside. Feeling her cheeks burn in accordance with her actions, she felt even more humiliated when she realized that her hardened nipples were pressed flush against his chest.

Biting her lip, Rachel briefly thought of apologizing, but instead she promptly pushed away from him in embarrassment.

The Joker didn't protest; he merely grabbed the loofah from her and rubbed at his arms, then legs, scrubbing them until his skin was red. That done and still breathing heavily, the Joker grabbed Rachel and pulled her close to him, running the loofah over her own body with far less force. Arms, legs, back, front -- nothing missed his attentions, and he took care to keep their bodies touching as much as possible.

When he was done, he crushed her against him, his chest heaving as he looked down at her.

"I'm a man of my word," he growled, though at the moment it wasn't clear who he was reminding. He dropped the loofah to run his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back before pouring shampoo into the wet mass he held. He rubbed her hair down firmly, thankful she used a combination shampoo/conditioner, then turned her into the shower spray and rinsed her off before shoving her out of the shower.

"Make me some cocoa and get into bed," he ordered her. "I'll be there in a minute." He already had a firm grip on himself, and Rachel’s presence wasn't about to stop him from granting his release.

Giving a subconscious whimper at the loss of bodily contact, the assistant DA righted herself on wobbly legs before hurrying out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Placing her face in her hands, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her. She'd actually felt compelled to let him touch her...to touch him, and to show him that there was more to life than blood and chaos.

Knocking over a glass amidst her thoughts, Rachel cursed before reaching for a mug and the cocoa, her hands trembling as she pulled a hoodie off the coat rack and slipped it over her half-naked form.

The washer started, and then the Joker appeared in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was grinning again, his voice excited.

"Had to wash my clothes; hope you don't mind." On his freshly-scrubbed face, his trademark grin was more boyish than anything else. "Nice hoodie." He chuckled to himself and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "Told you I'd just be a minute . . . you make it so easy, y'know." He was smirking at her. "You do know some ghost stories, don't you? Got a flashlight?" He glanced over the mess he'd made of her kitchen, twirling a bit of hair around his forefinger. "Is it almost done? I'm kinda cold." He held his arm out to show her the goosebumps on it, then continued in a conversational voice, "Y'know, I, uh, I'm a man of my word and all, but if there's uh, any little urges you need taken care of, I'll be here allnight. Just a thought." He shrugged as if he could care less what her answer would be.

Although the Joker's excitement had been infectious, Rachel now felt her cheeks burning as she mumbled something incoherent and handed him his cocoa. "I assume you'll want your own bed? Because I'm afraid I've only got one..." Smirking, she added, "And as a matter of fact, I do know a ghost story...there's a really scary one about a clown bathing an assistant DA."

"Oooh, you'll have to give me all the details on that one," he cooed at her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her after him into the bedroom. "And what's the point of ghost stories if you're sleeping in separate beds? Get a grip, Rach." He pulled the covers down, threw the towel off, and climbed in after setting his cocoa on the nightstand. "Get in." It was said lightly, but there was a knife playing along the knuckles of one hand as he said it, a silent reminder of his earlier threat. "Oh, uh, is this Harvey's side of the bed?" He giggled to himself, amused at the thought of lying across Harvey's territory.

Rachel balked, her eyes glancing from the Joker down to her soaked panties before returning back to him, again. "Umm...can you turn around?" she asked hopefully. "I, uh...kind of don't want to sleep in wet underwear." Scowling, she added, "And no, that's not Harvey's side of the bed...he chooses to go home after we, um...uh…" Choosing not to complete her thought, Rachel folded her arms as if this would prevent the Joker from staring at her with his prying eyes.

The Joker looked disbelieving as he turned away. "Really? What an asshole. He's never stayed the night? Fucked and ran?" He clucked his tongue. "Tut, tut, Rach, you should have more confidence than to let that happen. Tie him down if you need to. Where's your self-respect?" He continued making disappointed noises, shaking his head admonishingly, until he felt the bed move as she slid in hesitantly alongside him.

Immediately flipping over, the madman grabbed the covers and pulled them over their heads, giggling in the darkness. "All right," he whispered, sliding closer to Rachel so that their shoulders touched, "tell me about this clown and assistant D.A. Then I've got a great one about a giant bat."

Shrieking as he ensconced them amidst a sea of blankets, Rachel quickly covered her lower half with her hands as she snapped, "Harvey doesn't 'fuck and run', he's just so busy that he needs to go home! And as for this story, I don't think you'd be able to handle it..." Smirking, she added, "Sissy that you are, after all."

It disturbed her to realize she was growing quite comfortable with his presence, but she decided to play along with his game lest he get knife happy.

The Joker laughed until he started coughing, then bit her neck gently, sucking on her skin. "Do I need to, ah, prove my manliness to you?" he questioned. "'Cause uh, I'm quite willing to." He giggled as she started spluttering, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder. "Hard to believe he'd rather go home than stay with you . . . unless you snore." Suddenly he was serious again, loud voice booming in the confines of the blankets. "You don't snore, do you?"

The suddenness of his exclamation startled Rachel, but because of the adrenaline rush she couldn't help but giggle and stifle her laughter with her hand. "Stop" she urged, "I...I believe you're, um...manly." Shifting about, she whimpered when she felt her bare thigh touch his, her hands falling into her lap as she suddenly felt compelled to embrace him. He was just like a giddy little child at that moment; she'd never seen him so elated and full of life, and it fascinated her to see such a unique side of him.

Annoyed by her sense of intrigue, Rachel rather begrudgingly asked, "So what's this great story about Batman? Or at least, that’s who I assume it’s about since there aren’t that many other giant bats in Gotham."

He ignored her whimper and snuggled closer, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder again before whispering in her ear. "All right, so there's this town, right? Real ratty hell-hole of a town. Lots of nasty creatures in it, ugly things all full of themselves and ignorant of their mindless existence. Then, see, this one day, this fellow comes along." His voice was dropping as he warmed to the fantasy in his head, and he slid one arm around Rachel's shoulders. "The fellow gets it in his head that he's, uh, like Dr. Frankenstein or something. So he starts gathering all the bodies of animals, yeah? And he sews them all together, and one dark and stormy night, he raaaaaises his creature up to the heavens, and lightning strikes it-BAM!" He cackled as she shrieked and clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Shut up, I don't need the cops over here!" But he was chortling as he continued his story. "So the doctor walks sloooooowly to his creature, and then it sits up and turns to him.

"'Speak! Speak!' he commands it!

"The creature unfolds its gigantic wings and flaps them once, twice.

"'Speak!' commands the doctor! And do you know what it said? Do you? Huh? Huh?"

He nudged and prodded until she'd whispered "No, what?"

"It said . . . 'Helloooo, Wiiiiiilllllllburrrrrr!'"

The Joker doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face as he gasped for breath.

Raising an eyebrow, Rachel tried her best not to laugh as she insisted, "Um...that wasn't funny. Oh well, at least you didn't bash Batman like I thought you would." Smirking when he didn't stop, she gave him a shove before exclaiming, "Would you stop!? If you were worried about the cops coming over before, they definitely are now!"

"Don't your neighbors bang on the wall first?" he gasped out, rolling over and resting his head in her lap. "I'd kill you before they’d come here, anyway. And don't be so critical of my stories, unless you want to know about those kids on the bus." He smirked up at her, still insane even without most of his makeup. "That'd keep you up for days."

Souring, Rachel gave him a rough push -- partly for the children, and partly because she was nude from the waist down. "Don't talk to me about things like that" she warned, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. "I-I don't like it... I like it when you..." Trailing off, she decided to leave things well enough alone and looked off to the side.

"When I what?" he asked. "Order you around? Lick you?" He leaned in to take her earlobe between his lips, sucking gently. "When I do that?" he pressed. "Or when I conform to your rules? Do you like me, Rach? The girls never liked me, for some reason. Hmm, what's up with that?" He blew his breath out on her ear, then bit down from her lobe to her shoulder, making small growling sounds.

"But really," he said in between nips and growls, "what do you like about me, Rachel Marie?"

Taking in a sharp breath, Rachel felt her lashes flutter closed as she subconsciously leaned into his touch. "I don't know" she confessed, her voice sounding small. “I-I suppose I just find you interesting, that’s all…I’ve never met someone with such a curious outlook on life before.”

Whimpering when he gave her an exceptionally rough bite, Rachel squirmed beneath him and grasped at his shoulders, her cheek pressing against his until she felt the svelte bumps of his scars. With a shiver, she noticed that he recoiled so that they were no longer cheek-to-cheek, her heart clenching as she wondered if a woman had ever touched them before. Judging by his discomfort, they clearly hadn’t, so she defiantly forced his cheek back to hers. If there was anything she’d learned from her psychology classes back in college, it was that a person would eventually respond to affection even if they’d been lacking it their entire life.

“Haven’t you ever hugged anyone before?” Rachel mocked, her fingers lightly stroking his surprisingly soft hair as she tried to keep him still. “You just looked like you needed one, that’s all…quit acting like such a baby.”

"Bitch," he snarled at her, arching his neck to keep her away from his face as he tried to grab her hands. He rolled onto his back, face screwed up. "I'm not a baby. Stop touching me!"

The Joker let out a whine of frustration, and not even the feel of Rachel pressing against his leg as she tried to hold him down distracted him.

"I don't need hugs," he snapped, but his struggles weren't getting him anywhere. His head was still fuzzy from being hit so often today, and he was sore, and the bed was so damned comfortable. He finally gave up with a snarl, chest heaving as he licked his lips out of habit.

"Bitch," he muttered again.

Rachel smothered a giggle behind her hand, for seeing the elusive clown prince of crime so bent out of shape over a simple hug was quite amusing. "What's wrong with hugs?" she shot back. "When I was younger, men loved them because it was the easiest way to cop a feel without getting noticed. Maybe the rumors are true...maybe you do have the hots for the notorious Batman." Letting out a trill of laughter at this, Rachel decided that she'd officially lost her mind as she flopped back against the pillows and continued to fight her laughter. "Sorry" she apologized amidst snickers, "I just...God, I'd forgotten why I don't invite insane convicts over to my apartment. Guess I tend to adapt to the levels of sanity in my surroundings."

The Joker leaned up on his arm at the mention of Batman, a wicked grin on his face.

"Oh, yeeah," he purred, "Batsy gives me such a hard-on!" He threw one leg between hers, rubbing said arousal against her thigh as he laughed, one hand once more over her mouth to stop her from screaming. "I'm insane," he snarled in her ear, "and I'm not a convict -- they'll have to catch me first!" He chortled, keeping his legs wrapped tightly around hers, but his thrusting had stopped. "Though if you want to hug me, you can always hug my face with your thighs." He rested his face close to hers, breath hot on her skin and heavy tongue tracing patterns on his lips.

Rachel bit her lip to suppress a small moan as she felt his warm body press flush against her curves, her cheeks growing red as she glanced off to the side in utter contempt. "I-I'm not like that" she whispered, her chest rising and falling as she felt a burst of heat coil within her lower belly. The thought of having a crook pleasuring her, and the Joker no less, made her feel deliciously dirty, her nails almost threateningly raking down his back as she remembered his earlier words about understanding female physiology. The very thought made her want to snort in derision, for the notion of this man – this monster – actually understanding something as delicate as pleasuring a woman seemed absurd. "What makes you think I want that?" she finally rasped out. "All you crooks seem to believe that the good girls want the bad boys, but I can assure you that it's not true."

Rachel’s protests amused the Joker, especially in light of her hitched breath and pounding heart, and the way her voice caught when she spoke. The Joker wasn't one for actual intercourse -- he'd shied away from that after he'd knocked up that one girlfriend of one of his goons and burned down her apartment to erase any genetic link to him.

But still, he'd found that having a woman -- or man, for that matter (sex was sex; so long as it fulfilled his own ego, the Joker wasn't picky about the plumbing) -- and being able to control their desire, their release . . . it was a power rush that he was all too happy to give in to.

He hissed as her nails raked down his back, arching into the contact and nibbling lightly on her throat. His hand rested on her hip and tugged gently at the hair there as he laughed into her pulse.

"Come on," he snorted, "don't tell me that if I, uh, tested the waters you'd be completely dry? Rrrrachel," he purred as he pulled her head to the side, brushing his lips against her cheek, "don't lie to me."

"Don't touch me" Rachel hissed back, yet her voice lacked the conviction she'd been striving to convey. Cursing when his hips began to grind against her own, she dug her nails into his flesh and felt a sense of disgust when her body began to respond.

'It's only natural' she inwardly assured herself. 'You're only human, and you can't control your body...it's not because you want this.'

Tempted to kick him in the shin, Rachel then decided (primarily because of the Joker's giggling) that he was merely toying with her. Scowling, she determined that she wouldn't be the one to cave under his administrations, but the other way around. Rachel wasn't accustomed to attempting such a daring stunt, but she knew that she wasn't about to accept defeat when the Joker was in her home and in her bed.

Raising herself up so that she was propped on her elbows, Rachel gave the Joker a surprisingly coy smile as she purred, "Have you ever been kissed by a woman, Joker? You're always going on and on about how much they hate you and your scars, after all..." Reaching out and gliding her thumb along his scarred lip, Rachel pressed her forehead to his before replacing her digit with her warm tongue, a breathy sigh escaping her lips as she closed the distance between them and pressed her mouth firmly to his. The sensation was odd at first, but not at all unpleasant. Although Rachel had put on similar acts in the past, she somehow didn't need to put as much effort into this game, and the sudden realization of this highly disturbed her.

The Joker's eyebrows arched as she kissed him. He hadn't expected her to give in, and therefore suspected she hadn't, but he was content to lay there and let her kiss him. He slid his tongue against hers -- and that was scarred, too -- as he raised one hand to the base of her neck, fingers curling into her hair as his other massaged a breast through her hoodie.

She tasted good. He wondered how else she tasted, and if he should assume that this was a request to go back on his word. He toyed with the idea as he rubbed her neck, then decided he'd let it play out a bit more. She'd be his soon enough, even if he had to drop by on a weekly basis. Anyone with enough brawn or drugs could rape someone, but it took true skill, the Joker felt, to bed someone who’d denied with all their soul that they didn't want you.

He bit down on her lower lip gently, then sucked on it before pulling her head back to kiss down her throat. He was slow, taking his time and paying very careful attention to the way she reacted, her breath and the tenseness of her muscles. Yeah, people didn't like his scars, but give them enough money or spend enough time on them, and they all eventually gave in.

Wriggling about within his grasp, Rachel was careful to keep her legs firmly closed to prevent the Joker from arousing her even more than before, or from discovering that she was, indeed truly aroused. She hated herself for it, but a man who used his hands for destruction was surely capable of bringing people to their knees in all possible ways. Although this thought was meant to comfort Rachel, it only made her feel far worse than before. She was allowing the Joker to touch her...a man who'd killed people with the hands that were now caressing her, and yet she was doing little to nothing to fight him off. Perhaps she was wrong in her earlier statement; perhaps she actually was 'that kind of girl'.

Afraid of how she must look to the Joker's predatory eyes, Rachel was careful to remain stalk-still as he continued to touch her, her limbs quivering when he brushed her skin in a manner that caused a shiver to jolt all the way down to her toes. The sudden movement caused her bare hips to brush against his own, her teeth biting into her lower lip as she swallowed and tried to fend off the soft, breathy moans that longed to escape her throat.

"Now," the Joker whispered as he kissed the back of her ear, hips rising slightly to meet her own, "we've come to a crossroads, Rachel." He pulled back and caressed her cheek, then ran his fingers through her hair. "Either you let me go down on you -- and I promise you'll enjoy it -- or you turn around and we go to sleep. It's your call, my dear, but if you don't decide in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to decide for you."

He relaxed back into the pillow on his arm, watching her.

Feeling an irrepressible tingle shoot through her veins with his words, Rachel whimpered and closed her eyes, her thighs subconsciously parting as she found her body scooting closer to his. She was suddenly cold now that he'd removed himself from her lithe form, but she tried to convince herself that this was the only reason she was letting him get even remotely close to her. The tremulous heat in her lower belly was making her nauseous, her hand suddenly grasping at his wrist as she made her decision.

Taking the Joker by the shoulders, Rachel angled her mouth roughly over his and maneuvered herself so that she was straddling his waist, her hands gliding up to steady him as she slid her tongue past his lips and moaned into their heated kiss. She was admittedly surprised by her actions, but the longing ache in between her thighs was forcing her to forfeit her dignity and give in to her desires. He wasn't a monster when she closed her eyes, so as she licked and nipped at his lips, she imagined that he was a normal man providing her with what every normal man wanted.

The Joker chuckled his victory over her, ego swelling at the accomplishment as he pulled her hips against his, teasing himself with the friction he so badly wanted, but wouldn't give fully into. He let out an appreciative murmur as his hands dragged around the curve of her hips and into her small waist, then up her sides as he raised the hoodie. He broke the kiss long enough to pull it off of her, then leaned back and took his time to explore her, front and back, dark eyes watching as his hands moved across her body. He rubbed, tickled, and pinched gently, looking from his hands to her face to gauge her reactions.

The undersides of her breasts weren't that ticklish, from what he could discern, and she liked her nipples pinched, but not too roughly. Her breasts themselves could take a little more manhandling, her rump was exceedingly ticklish, and once the madman was satisfied that he knew her torso well enough, he shifted her back and up a little in order to slide his fingers in between her thighs, taking as much care there as he had with her top as he rested his forehead between her breasts, her noises of pleasure music to his ears.

Rachel gasped softly as the heat in her loins only intensified, her fingers instinctively gripping at the Joker’s hair as she bowed into him and bit at his earlobe. Her breathing grew shallow with desperation as she felt him probing at her sensitive flesh, a soft cry of abandonment leaving her lips when he pressed a finger past her entrance. Whimpering his name – or at least the name that she knew – Rachel nuzzled him out of habit and tried to coax him into yet another bruising kiss. Feeling their tongues battle for dominance, Rachel moaned as she gripped the sides of his face and forced him down onto his back, her mouth breaking free of his before fanning several burning kisses along his cheek, neck, and the scarred planes of his torso.

Moving her hips in time to the torturous thrusts of his fingers, Rachel ran the fire of her tongue across one of his nipples before kissing the scar directly alongside it, her lips repeatedly claiming his flesh in sloppy, artless kisses as she made the slow trek back up to his scarred mouth. Gazing down at him through heavy-lidded eyes, Rachel smiled slightly before bending her head and kissing one of his facial scars. The act was short and sweet at first, but then she tentatively lowered her mouth to his skin and kissed his scar yet again, only this time the action was far more sensual. Deliberately licking and worrying the puckered flesh between her lips and teeth, Rachel allowed her lips to dance across the scar before pressing back against his mouth, her tongue reflexively licking his bottom lip as she’d often seen him do out of nervous habit. Gliding her tongue over his, she then embraced him and pressed her soft curves against his welcoming body, her heart pounding as she suddenly tucked her head beneath his chin and held him tight. Somewhere along the way, Rachel had abandoned her lust and had reunited with her typical lovemaking mannerism: affection.

The Joker let her kiss him for a while, but she wasn't biting, and it wasn't fun if he wasn't hurting from it. He pulled her up for another kiss, biting her firmly, but not enough to draw blood, then rolled them over and knelt between her legs, one hand still exploring her nether regions while the other hand kept his balance and his mouth worked on her breasts. He was going to bring her very close to the edge, but not over.

Startled by the sudden change of position, Rachel whined as she arched her back and lifted her hips to meet with his administrations, her legs spreading further in sweet surrender as she fisted his damp locks and breathed a sigh. He was far gentler than she thought he would be, but she couldn't help but wonder if he was just giving her a false sense of security. Thankful that there weren't any knives lying about, Rachel yelped when he bit down on a hardened nipple, her eyes narrowing down at him as she gave him a slight whack over the head.

The pain had been sobering, and to her disgust, she found that she hadn't minded it as much as she should have, especially when he was grinning back at her in that infuriating manner he always held.

The Joker watched her as he bit down on her nipple again, rubbing her clit as he did so, watching the shock on her face as the pain and pleasure mingled. After a few more bites, he moved to give her other breast the same attention, always rubbing as the pain flared. He was chuckling as he continued the treatment, kissing and biting along her sides, working his way in a zigzag down her body.

He tugged a little irritably at the patch of dark curls that obstructed his view of his goal, but it didn't stop him from diving right in, taking care to pay special attention to Rachel's reactions, what made her cry out and what she didn't particularly like. She didn't taste like applesauce, which he had wondered about, but she tasted good and he made a pleased noise.

Arching her back, Rachel placed a hand over her mouth in order to stifle her cries of passion, an almost dull ache blooming within her loins as her body hummed with a sensation she hadn't felt in what seemed like years. Harvey tried, but it had been quite a while since Rachel had ever been so close to reaching her peak. Digging the nails of her free hand into the Joker's scalp, she bucked her hips as his gifted tongue continued to pleasure her, her body writhing and her head tossing as she tried to keep herself from freefalling.

"Please..." she panted, suddenly feeling as if all of her reasoning skills had turned to mush.

The Joker turned his face suddenly and bit into her thigh, his fingers once again replacing his tongue as he rubbed and sucked until he'd gotten a large hickey to form, then he looked up at Rachel and burst into laughter at her flushed body, the ridiculous way her face was screwed up with pleasure, her one hand to her mouth as she moaned around it. He caught her eye and the tears in it before he lowered his head again, both hands grasping her thighs and holding her down as he unrelentingly assaulted her with his lips and tongue, grazing his teeth gently across her flesh until he'd brought her over the edge.

No longer caring if she was heard, Rachel placed her hands against her cheeks and gave a strangled wail as she arched her back, her hips rotating as she felt something snap deep within. Her mouth opening in a silent scream, she shuddered and shook as her release swept her away like a schooner caught in the tides. Stroking the Joker's hair with her fingers, she panted as she closed her eyes, a goofy little smile crossing her lips as she sank back against the pillow in complete satisfaction.

Mmmm, she was scratching his head . . . The Joker took a few more languid swipes with his tongue, giggling as each one made her tense up and whimper, then flopped over on his back beside her and grinned at her. He hadn't taken care of himself yet, but he'd get around to it. In the meantime, his arousal was getting a nice breath of fresh air as he bit Rachel's shoulder again, resting his teeth against her skin and humming contentedly to himself.

"So far this ghost story's been the best" Rachel managed to rasp out, her arms slipping around his waist as she gave him a rather shy smirk. Her cheeks were flushed from both embarrassment and desire, but she somehow managed to keep him from biting her as she roughly claimed his mouth with hers. Her initial intention had been to keep him from sinking his teeth into her shoulder, but now his teeth were sinking into her lips. Whimpering at the sensation of him licking their mingled blood away, Rachel ran her hand down along the front of his chest before grazing his navel, her face burying against his neck as if she wished to hide from her sins.

"Don't think I'm being all cuddly," he told her. "Unless you're gonna give me a hand job, keep your hands off me." He didn't like the way she touched him, like his scars weren't there, like she didn't notice them. He especially didn't like that his body liked her gentle touches, and not in a sexual way. Maybe he'd kill her in the morning. That would put a stop to all this female nonsense she was indulging in. Yeah, he'd kill her in the morning . . . after breakfast.

Appearing to be momentarily taken aback, Rachel hitched in a breath before shifting uncomfortably within his embrace, her tone rather shaky as she asked, "Um...i-is that what you want? Because I guess I could...I mean..." Trailing off, Rachel shifted her gaze off to the side as she kept her hands glued firmly to his shoulders.

"You do it or I do it," he muttered with a shrug, her hair tickling his neck. He licked his lips, still tasting her on them, and brushed the tips of his fingers across her shoulder. If she didn't irritate him too much more tonight, maybe he'd kill her the day after tomorrow . . .

"A-alright" Rachel mumbled, her tone notably huskier. Leaning in to kiss the corner of the Joker's mouth, she lightly scoured her nails down the marred flesh of his abs before trailing lower. Scratching her thumb nail along his inner thigh, she hesitantly drifted her hand to the side before resting her palm against his throbbing member. Sucking in a bated breath, Rachel felt her legs begin to quiver due to touching him so intimately, her hand gradually curling about his shaft before giving him a long, firm stroke. Feeling the Joker lean into her touch made Rachel shiver, her eyes closing as she panted against the soft expanse of his lips. This was all so wrong, and yet she found that she couldn't deny his requests. Perhaps it was out of fear, but her bleeding heart had already succumbed to the foolish web of stories he'd created, and she wanted to help him in any way possible.

Her face near his was distracting him. The Joker irritably forced her lips to the crook of his neck, away from his facial scars. There. He could breathe better that way, and concentrate more fully on the sensations she was giving him. He continued to rub his fingers on her shoulder, but the other hand closed around hers, making her grasp him more firmly and pull harder at his length. His breath caught and he grunted softly, turning his face to pant into her hair as he showed her what he liked.

Curious as to why the Joker still wasn't comfortable with her being near his face, Rachel pressed a gentle kiss against the crook of his neck before biting him like he had done so to her. He seemed to respond to pain far more than her gentler administrations, so she tried to better accommodate him since he'd been kind enough to do so for her. Rachel wanted to laugh at this reasoning, for it seemed like a cheaply veiled excuse to sleep with a madman.

Enjoying the rush she felt from hearing the Joker's grunts, Rachel closed her eyes and shivered when he continued to pant against her hair. Trying to mimic the movements he'd forced her hand into obeying, Rachel began to quicken her strokes before running a thumb along his tip, her body subconsciously gravitating toward him as her core began to ache. She loved that she could cause such a powerful man to make such pitiful noises, her teeth biting into the soft pad of his earlobe as she used her free hand to clutch at his rump. The motion caused their hips to meld slightly together, her hand trapped in between their bodies as she continued to pleasure him with her shaking hand.

The Joker clenched his teeth and grunted into Rachel's hair again. He was . . . almost . . . the madman dipped his head down and bit into her earlobe, her sudden cry of pain and the blood that trickled into his mouth sending him over the edge. He shuddered as he made a mess over their hands, his stomach, and her sheets, then relaxed fully into the pillows and idly licked the semen from his fingers. The ceiling seemed to fascinate him as he cleaned his hand off, then wiped it dry on the sheets.

After a moment, he glanced at her.

"What?"

"Uh...nothing" Rachel stammered, her blue eyes wide as she watched him with a morbid fascination. Biting her lip, she hurriedly added, "I-I don't normally do this, you know...I wouldn't have let you touch me under normal circumstances."

As she allowed her words to sink in, she prayed that they hadn't sounded as hollow as she knew they were.

The Joker laughed at her. He looked her right in the eye and laughed, pulling fully away and slapping her hands when she tried to reach for him. The Joker settled fully onto the other side of the bed and pulled the covers up around his waist, still snickering as he shook his head and finger at her.

"Christ, Rach, you're pretty funny, y'know that? Pret-ty fri-ckin’ fun-ny." He yawned and scratched at his shoulder. "Still, it's good to know you don't, uh, get around. Though you really need to learn how to give hand jobs." He closed his eyes. "Now go to sleep, all right? I've got a busy day tomorrow." That made him giggle, but it was interrupted by a yawn.

Furious by this insinuation, Rachel grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to look at the traces of his ‘accident’, her voice dangerously low as she hissed, “Funny, you sure as hell seemed to have gotten off on my lousy hand job.” When he didn’t respond, she snidely added, “Besides, I’m not known for my hand jobs, I’m known for my tongue.” Clearly pleased with herself, Rachel sent him a pointed look before snuggling up against her pillow, her voice rather smug as she remarked, “And no, you can’t sample it, because you already made the mistake of asking for a hand job…I don’t give additional favors.”

"Uhh, Rach, I only got off on your hand job 'cause I had to help you," the Joker pointed out before drawing his hand back and smacking her ass as hard as he could. "And I don't trust your mouth anywhere near my dick, all right?" He snagged his knife off the nightstand and dug it into her stomach as she turned to fight with him. "Go to sleep, will you?" He was tired and getting grouchier. Maybe he would kill her after breakfast. But his ever-present headache had receded, and he barely noticed it right now. He supposed she could live a little longer, provided she keep the pain away from his skull . . .

Giving a small squeak of surprise, Rachel cursed when she felt the blade nick the flesh near her navel, her heart rate rapidly accelerating as she scolded herself for teasing a lunatic. Men of his caliber weren't known for their good sense of humor, after all...

Still angry from the Joker's insults, Rachel couldn't help but snarl, "Good choice, you barbarian, 'cause I would've gladly bitten you man parts right off!" Shaking from both fear and humiliation, she dug her nails sharply into his forearms until she broke the skin, her eyes almost seeming to dare him to harm her as she tried to ignore the heat coming from his own gaze.

"You know, Rachel," he hissed as his eyes rolled slightly with the pain, "if you want another go, just tell me. Otherwise, go to sleep. I'm going to start cutting on you if you don't roll over, close your eyes, and leave me alone. We'll play again in the morning, but right now, I want to sleep."

Death, sex, or sleep. It was her call. The Joker watched her darkly, quite ready to gut her if she put up any more of a fuss.

The sadistic side of Rachel rather enjoyed his cruel snarling, but the smarter side of her was deathly afraid of him. Not as much as before, naturally, but the initial apprehension still lingered. "You're in my bed" she returned just as darkly, "so doesn't that make you a guest? I'm a courteous hostess, Joker, so I always let the guests decide." Still digging her nails into his arms, she slid her knee in between his legs and rested her face against the crook of his neck.

She knew she had to be insane for instigating a criminal in such a desperate manner, but she was genuinely lonely and just longed for a little bit of warmth, no matter how un-permanent the after effects proved to be.

She couldn't see the shocked and apprehensive look on the Joker’s face as he breathed quietly. He wasn't sure just what to do with this female anymore, and it felt . . . good to have her pressed against his side.

He was barely aware of flipping his knife shut, and shifted just a little. He laid there for a long time, until her breathing calmed and her body relaxed into deep slumber, and then and only then did he look down at her still form and flip the covers up over her shoulder. It wasn't out of concern for her. He couldn't get completely under their warmth unless she was under them, too. It felt . . . strange. The usual urge to kill rose in his chest, but the Joker resisted it for once. These new sensations were worth exploring.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but his chronic insomnia kicked in eventually and the Joker once more found himself staring at the ceiling. He flicked Rachel a glanced and wiggled out of her grasp in order to switch his now-clean suit to the dryer, and after that he gladly crawled back into bed. Her apartment was freezing and he was naked besides. He pulled her warm body against his, suddenly desperate to not be cold anymore, and found a few more hours of peace in her arms.

A/N - May or may not be continued...we shall see. ;)