TW: ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION!

Unsurprisingly, you didn't get much sleep that night. The handcuff around your wrist made you physically restless, while your thoughts of your interaction with Joker made you mentally restless. After all, he had given you a lot to think about, and you couldn't shake the feeling of his lips ghosting over your own. You longed to experience it again.

You spent a lot of the night just looking at Joker. He seemed to be resting easy, though he moved a lot in his sleep. Sometimes, you'd look and see his back. Then, you'd briefly doze off, wake up, and see his face instead, body subconsciously curled toward you.

After an unusually long doze, you awoke once more, noticing that it was morning. The curtains weren't open, but the room was still bathed in a muted, midmorning light. A glance at the alarm clock on your side of the bed told you that it was 8:34 AM.

Your arm was stiff from having it up all night, causing you to wince as you moved it around. The action caused a faint rattling sound, one that made Joker stir. You weren't sure if he was asleep, or just facing away from you in silent, yet conscious pondering.

These questions were answered when he turned so that he was laying on his back. He let out a tired groan, running his hands through his hair, which was messier than normal, but still didn't look horrible. In fact, its messiness was a little attractive. It gave him a more rugged feel. It was nice to not see him as polished and dapper as he normally was.

"Good morning," you volunteered pleasantly, unsure of how to even begin speaking with him after last night's interaction. Every bit of filler conversation felt wrong, since there was an elephant in the room that wasn't being addressed, and that was his twisted fascination with you and your feelings for him. Well, technically, it had already been addressed. But, when it was, it didn't provide you with any guidance on how to proceed. And now, knowing how he felt, you couldn't focus on anything else.

He sat up in bed, looking extremely well-rested. You envied that. "Morning," he replied in an almost-as-pleasant way. He looked at you with a sinister grin. "Sleep okay?"

"You know damn well I didn't." You pointed at your cuffed wrist, which was lazily flicked downward in an attempt to find comfort.

"Well, get used to it." He got out of bed, grabbing the cuffs' key off his bureau. He approached you, unlocking your restraints and freeing your wrist. "Because, punishment or not, I think that's a sight that I need to see more of."

You rubbed your wrist, which was etched with the marking of the cuff. A physical reminder of the previous night. Where Joker had you right where he wanted, both physically and emotionally. Your raw skin ached a little in protest as you rubbed it, just like your heart ached as you took in his innuendo. He was drawing you in with every comment, and he knew it.

"You're the boss," you mumbled, a little bitter at having to endure more nights of this inhumane restraining. But, you knew better than to complain. Besides, there was a silver lining, and that was that him restraining you would make you feel vulnerable in a good way. Whether that emotion should be felt was another discussion, but in the moment, it made you feel spectacular. But, short-lived ecstasy was still ecstasy.

You began to empathize with the drug addicts you took advantage of at The Last Laugh, back when you were in good standing with Joker. Beforehand, you had thought that it was pathetic to rely so much on substances that you'd willingly trap yourself in a room with a dangerous criminal. That you'd willingly spend your hard-earned cash on them.

But, you understood them now.

You realized that not all drugs had to be substances.

Joker was your drug.

"That's right." He placed the handcuffs back in his bureau, turning to you and clapping his hands together excitedly. "Now, get dressed, sweets. We're going on a little field trip."

"Where?" you asked, standing up and stretching. Considering the fact that you had been locked up in the mansion for days on end, you were stoked to be able to leave.

"The club. I have a deal to close. Frosty is coming, too, just to mediate." He walked into the closet, rummaging around for some clothes to wear. "But, I have to shower first."

"So do I. Can't I go first? If you go first, you're gonna be waiting forever for me to do my hair and shit."

"Why can't we just go together?" He grinned slyly as he turned toward you, folding his clothes in the crook of his arm.

"God, be serious for once, J. That doesn't even mitigate the waiting problem," you mumbled, pushing past him and grabbing an outfit of your own. Despite your indignant reply, you couldn't help but silently consider his request. His figure, bare and standing before you, wasn't exactly doing much to get your thoughts back on track. You wanted to get to know that figure on a level deeper than this.

"Fine. Go ahead. You know what you have to do in there, correct?"

He was referring to constantly conversing with him through the door. You figured that it would feel pretty strange talking to him while you were fully naked, but you tried to brush that off. "I know."

"Good girl. Off ya go."

You nodded, stepping into the bathroom, setting your outfit down, then peeling off your pajamas afterward. You made awkward conversation with Joker the whole time, and continued as you showered. You cleaned yourself slowly, letting the heavenly water pressure ease any tension in your arm from your uncomfortable sleeping position. The steam relaxed you to the point where you almost didn't want to leave. But, unfortunately, another person was waiting, and you didn't want to use up all of his hot water. So, you emerged an acceptable amount of time later, using one of his towels to dry yourself off.

After you were dry, you slipped on your outfit, which was a knee-length, dark purple dress and nude heels. There was no flow to the dress at all; it clung to your body for dear life, squeezing it like it never wanted to let go. You blushed as you thought to yourself that Joker would like it, trying to conceal the flustered quiver in your voice as you spoke to him through the door.

After you were changed, you let him go in to shower, not missing the hungry way his eyes took in your form. Surprisingly, he didn't say anything, and that made you disappointed. Hearing him compliment your physical appearance made you feel so wanted, if only in a superficial sense. But, that was okay for you. You wanted to be recognized in any way you could.

He closed the door, and once the shower turned on, you asked if you could go in to do your hair. He let you, so you walked in, plugging in the hair dryer and curling iron that you had also brought from your own room. As you waited for them to heat up, you kept talking with Joker, since he couldn't see you unless his head was poked out of the curtain at all times. You also assessed yourself in the mirror, watching how your face reacted to the words he said. You wanted to gauge how screwed you were, and what he did that made you tick.

Apparently, everything he did made you tick. It seemed that your face was permanently tinted pink, and you were always smiling. As you began to brush and curl your hair, you shook your head to yourself, wondering how such an independent woman had fallen for a clown.

Apparently, he liked to take long showers, since your hair was done before he emerged. You gave him space to change, then the two of you brushed your teeth together. This felt like such a domestic exchange between boss and employee, and it felt strange. You two looked more like a couple than anything else, and even though you pretended to be while in the public eye, a couple was something that you weren't.

After that, Joker quickly styled his hair, and you two were ready to go. When you emerged from his (now your) room, Frost was already waiting by the door. He sent you a small smile, and you figured that since you were back in Joker's good graces, you were back in Frost's, too.

   Relieved, you smiled back, and you three set out for The Last Laugh.

__

   You tilted your head back, downing a shot of whiskey as you observed Joker's deal as it commenced. He had exiled you to a few tables over from his, that way you couldn't hear what was being discussed. He wasn't exactly eager for you to hear any classified information anymore, hence how easily you had spilled the last bit to Matt.

   It's not like you needed to know anything to do good here, but still, being on the outs when you had originally been included... It stung. If you didn't have Frost sitting next to you and keeping an eye on you, you would've been driven mad with boredom. Thankfully, he was less of a guard than he was a friend, a friend who you spent the time laughing and chatting with.

   "So, how was your first night in the boss' bed?" Frost asked teasingly, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

   The question made you blush; just the mention of the unholy events of the night prior was enough to set your heart aflutter. "Boring. I couldn't fall asleep cuz of the damn cuffs he put me in, so I was just sitting with my own thoughts for hours. Literally nothing happened."

   Hey, you were a criminal. Lying was commonplace.

  Frost pointed at you, laughing. "You're turning red! What aren't you telling me, (Y/N)? What happened?"

   "Nothing!" Given the fact that he had always been the one to send questioning glances when Joker flirted, and when you inevitably reacted to that flirting, he probably knew what was going on. Still, admitting your feelings to anyone but yourself felt like breaking the rules. What rules? You weren't sure. But, it felt gross. Like speaking it out loud made it more true, and that much more difficult to run from.

   "Oh, come on. I know you've had the hots for J for a while, so you can drop the act."

   Always so easy to read. You threw your hands in the air dramatically. "Do we really have to talk about this right now?" you whined. "My feelings for him, while they are there, are the least of my concerns, or yours! He literally just tried to kill me a few days ago!"

   "Yeah, but he didn't. So, tell me!"

   You sighed, watching as he tossed back his own shot. You didn't know why you were about to tell him everything, but your mouth was opening anyway, preparing to speak. Maybe it just felt good to talk to someone about it, since you had been pushing your feelings away for so long, even from yourself.

   "Well..," you began, "he told me why he let me live. He said that I intrigued him, and that he wanted me around because he liked my devotion. Not me, not my skills, my devotion. Just that I liked him, and he could tell. And, while telling me that, he..."

   You trailed off, realizing the absurdity of what you were saying. You were venting to Frost like he was one of your girlfriends, not one of your colleagues. You were definitely in desperate need of a venting session, but this was not the time or place. "Forget it, this is stupid," you mumbled.

   He looked confused. "Just your devotion?" he asked, incredulous.

   You nodded slowly, figuring you had to discuss your feelings at this point. Frost was already invested and asking questions. "Yeah."

   He stared at you for a while, eyes squinted in contemplation. Finally, after about ten seconds, he shook his head. "No way."

   Now it was your turn to squint your eyes. "What do you mean?"

   "I've been working for J for years, (Y/N)," said Frost, absently playing around with his empty shot glass. "And I've seen what it looks like when he's using women for their devotion. And I'm not just talking about Harley. There's been more girls, way, way more. She's just the one you hear about because she's the craziest. And she lasted the longest."

   Frost poured another shot for you and himself, since the bartender had given him the whole bottle of whiskey out of fear of displeasing Joker's right-hand. You noticed that Frost never really seemed to be the overly murderous type; he just kind of rode the coattails of that misconception, reaping benefits where he could.

   "When with you, he acts nothing like he used to act with them. He would always leave them alone in their rooms for God knew how long, and when he was with them, he'd ignore them completely. He would just use them for sex and his own ego, and when they displeased him, they'd be gone. Haven't you noticed that he's always trying to be close to you?"

   He took another shot, wincing at the burning sensation it brought. "If he was just using you for your devotion, he would've killed you when you fucked up with Matt. Or kicked you to the curb. He knows that he can manipulate any girl he wants. So, he could get devotion from anyone. You'd be replaceable, if that's all you were there for. The only reason he would've let you live is because he wanted to. And I think that scares him, so that's why he told you that lie."

   You refused to let yourself believe that. It just didn't sound right. Joker, wanting you to live for reasons other than his own personal gain? It was almost laughable.

   But, still, you couldn't help but realize that it answered the question of why he looked so displeased when he had initially spared you. He had been experiencing a new feeling—or, at the very least, a new urge—and couldn't understand it. And the puzzlement that inevitably came with this change of pace made him angry.

   "Although, I will say that he definitely finds at least some pleasure in your devotion, though not as much as you may think. Regardless, that's why I think it'd be smart to try to get your feelings under control. He'll let you live whether or not you're into him, and being into him will only make things more complicated for you," he continued.

   "I can't just turn that off, though. Believe me, I've tried."

   You thought about your failure at suppressing your feelings, healing the wound with another shot of whiskey. It burned on the way down, but in reality, it took more pain away than it caused.

   "I know," sighed Frost. "But, neither can he. And, if you don't, he's only gonna get more and more obsessed with the idea of you, and that's gonna be dangerous."

   "So, you think he has feelings for me?"

   He thought about it, gaze fixated on the ceiling above as he pondered. Out of instinct, you followed his gaze as you pondered your own thoughts:

   Joker hadn't really liked Harley for her. You had thought he might've, but Frost knew him better than anyone. If Frost didn't think he did, then he didn't. And if he didn't like her like that, then Joker couldn't like anyone like that...could he?

   "I don't know," Frost finally replied, causing you to look over at him again. "He definitely feels something for you, but I don't know if it's the type of feeling that you want. Maybe not feelings, but maybe it's more like..."

   He paused, then started giggling suddenly. "Not to take the words straight from his mouth, but maybe it's more like intrigue. Or attachment. Harley and those other girls were so similar to each other, and they always seemed to bore him. You're different, and you just always seem to have him in a state of interest."

   You couldn't help the smile that broke out across your face. Attachment, while not ideal, was something. It wasn't as intense of a word as you would have liked, but it was something. Something that none of Joker's other women had had.

   Frost playfully poked you. "Hey, stop that!" he giggled, yet there was an undertone of seriousness in his teasing exclamation. "Like I said, try to let it go. Letting yourself feel things for him will only draw him in deeper, and make your life more complicated. He's not a good guy, (Y/N)."

   "I know. But, neither are we." You shrugged.

   "Yes, but you know him. He's like...a worse guy."

   Frost rested a hand on your shoulder, his smile gone and his eyes burning with intense sincerity. "Don't get tangled up with him, okay?"

   "Weren't you just begging me for details of when we shared a bed together like a teenager?" you asked, trying desperately to lighten the mood. "Why all the motherly advice now?"

   "Because I didn't think it was gonna go anywhere. It was just a harmless little thing to laugh about." He sighed, smiling sadly. "But, something about this conversation has made me think it might, and I don't want it to. For your own good."

   You nodded, understanding him perfectly. Unfortunately, you were just as selfish as Joker was, and you didn't know if you could listen to reason and suppress your feelings. Especially now, when you knew that Joker admired you for more than your devotion. Was intrigued by more than your devotion.

   You were about to make a promise you knew you couldn't keep when you heard a familiar voice call out to you from a few tables over:

   "(Y/N), baby, come over here!"

   You looked over at Joker, and he was beckoning you towards him.

   Obediently, you rose from your seat, ignoring Frost's pointed look. You had a job to do, and you intended to do it for your Prince of Crime. You weren't sure what that job was yet, but it didn't even matter. He was pretty clear with his expectations of you, and you were going to fulfill them. After all, not being obedient would displease him, and displeasure would lead to death.

   You walked up to him, letting your hand caress his shoulder. "Yes, babe?" you asked. You noticed that the longer you pretended to date Joker, the more you meant gestures like this.

   He let out that sensual purring sound he sometimes did. "I have a proposal for you," he said to you.

   You looked at the man he was negotiating with, figuring that he had something to do with this proposal. He was a big guy; he was quite literally all muscle, which made his head look very small in comparison to the rest of his body. He had a long beard, and he had one singular tattoo on his arm. It was of a skull with flowers protruding from the eye sockets. You liked it, but he was so intimidating that you didn't dare tell him so.

   He was looking at you with an expression you couldn't read. It felt purposely devoid of emotion, intent, and anything else. So, you looked back at Joker, growing a little suspicious. "What is it?"

   "This man is offering me a large sum of money," he replied, gesturing to the bearded man seated across the table. "And I am giving him an ungodly amount of substances in return. But, the drugs are worth less than what he is giving us. So, I figured that I should sweeten the deal."

   He wrapped an arm around your waist, letting his hand greedily slide up and down, feeling the curvature of your body. "I figured that I could give you to him. As a...gift."

   You balked at the idea, staring at him with a look of utter disbelief. You couldn't help but feel offended; Frost had told you that Joker wasn't using you, and that something about you was irreplaceable to him. But, here you were, being traded away like you were nothing. It stung. It really fucking stung.

   "Give me to him...forever?" you asked quietly, subconsciously shuffling closer to Joker's chair. Despite him essentially keeping you prisoner, you truthfully didn't want to be in anyone else's care. Especially a man as scary-looking as the bearded man. The truth was this: even if you had the option to leave the mansion and start a new life, you wouldn't have done so. Joker was what you wanted.

   "Just for a night," said the bearded man, smiling slyly. His voice was deep and rumbling, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

   You fearfully looked at Joker, who forcefully seized your arm and squeezed it. The look in his eyes was reassuring, almost as if he were plotting something. Something in his eyes told you to just go with it, so you shakily sighed, hoping that you wouldn't regret trusting him.

   You forced a smile. "You're cute. I think I can let you have me for a night."

   "All right, J. Looks like you have yourself a deal," said the bearded man.

   Joker grinned, laughing quietly. And then, the laughs got louder. Then, they got crazier. He stood up, still holding your arm as he walked over to the bearded man. "Oh, Lance, I do have myself a deal."

   The way he said it was so sinister that you began to relax. You couldn't figure out why, but you had a feeling that this would end with you right back in the mansion, where you belonged.

   Lance seemed to sense this, too, for his eyes widened, and he shrank in on himself. The visual was a little comical. After all, Joker was muscular, but this guy could've easily surpassed him in strength. He probably could've bench pressed a car, for God's sake. Yet, here he was, cowering at the green-haired clown that stood over him, head tilted to the side and holding your arm tightly.

   "Listen, J, if that's gonna be an issue, we can renegotiate," whispered Lance. "You can just keep the money, as long as you give me the drugs." He knew that he made the wrong move in desiring you, and you knew that, too.

   "Maybe ya should've thought about that before using (Y/N) as a bargaining chip," he hissed, reeling back and spitting in Lance's face. He began to laugh again, taking a gun out from his jacket pocket.

   "I can just give you the money then! No drugs needed, just let me live!" Lance was growing desperate, raising his hands in fearful surrender. "I'm sorry I made a move on your girl, okay? I'm sorry!"

   "He's sorry! Oh, if he's sorry, then that means we should just let him go!" He looked at you, playfully hitting your shoulder and continuing to cackle. You joined in, realizing how much you had missed making grown men tremble with fear. It was a luxury that you had severely taken for granted.

   As you were laughing, you watched Joker press the gun into your hand, taking a step back.

   Bewildered, you turned to look at him, but aimed the weapon anyway, just so Lance didn't decide to get up and run. But, you figured that wasn't necessary. After all, even if he had somehow managed to run away today, Joker would just find him later and give him a death ten times more painful than originally planned. He had a way of tracking down anyone he wanted, anytime. Hence why you were back at the mansion after running away from him.

   Joker sidled up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear, "Ya need to defend yourself. Don't let a pig like that go unpunished. You were the first thing he suggested when it came to sweetening the deal. Isn't that disgusting? Doesn't he deserve this?"

   "Yes, he deserves this," you whispered back, shivering as you felt his hot breath fan your ear.

   "Good girl. Very good. So, kill him now. Do it for me. Do it for you."

   His words made you feel so justified in what you were about to do. You couldn't help the grin that made its way onto your face as Joker stepped back again.

   "You're not really my type. Thanks, though," you said to Lance, pulling the trigger immediately after.

   The bullet hit right between his eyes, causing him to fall back against his chair as blood cascaded down his head. That expression of fear was still frozen on Lance's face, even in death, and you marveled at the sight. It was a beautiful sight, really. It made you feel powerful, and like you weren't just Joker's girl. It made you feel like you were your own girl, and like you were feared in your own right.

   You turned to Joker, handing the gun back. "Thank you," you said, and you meant it.

   "For what, doll?" He took the gun, putting it back in his pocket afterward.

   "For not letting me go with him."

   Unmistakably, his expression softened. He looked...kind. Sympathetic. His eyes were benevolent, his lips upturned in a genuine smile. You had never seen him emote like this, and it made your heart race. He looked beautiful like this, and you found yourself vainly hoping that he had never shown this side of himself to Harley or to anyone else.

   "Of course, baby. You're mine, and I don't intend to share you with anyone." He lightly grabbed your chin with one hand, using the other to trace your lips. "Besides, it's very disrespectful to reduce you to a mere object, isn't it? Shouldn't we teach these boys a lesson? That you're more than an object?"

   "Yes, J." Your voice was quiet, trembling as you pressed yourself against his chest. He encouraged the action, using the hand that been tracing your lips to wrap his arm around you, keeping you close.

   You knew then that Frost had been right. Joker cared for you, in some sense of the word. He had some sort of attachment to you. Otherwise, he would've just traded you away. Otherwise, he wouldn't have cared if men objectified you or not.

   You let yourself bask in this attachment, feeling euphoric.

   But, Frost's disappointed expression was visible out of the corner of your eye. And that put a damper on things.

   After all, it was a reminder that no matter how good this felt, it would end up being bad for you in the long run.