**A/N Happy Christmas Joker fam! I hope you're all enjoying the festive season as best you can, what with all the covid restrictions in place. I'm going to keep wishing for much happier, healthier times in 2021 for us all, we most definitely deserve it!

This chapter mentions the Donna Summer song "Love To Love You Baby" especially for the wonderful VeloySR595.

Hope you enjoy this instalment. Love you all, xoxo

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December 31st 1982

The Jack of Hearts was exceptionally busy tonight. The elite criminals of Gotham's underworld had all clamoured for admittance to the ticket-only event, to celebrate the New Year in the most stylish, notorious establishment in the city.

You'd never seen quite so many people in the club. The complimentary champagne flowed freely and the patrons were understandably in particularly high spirits.

The entertainment consisted of exotic dancers dressed in provocative Santa costumes; dancing on the various podiums situated throughout the large, dimly-lit room.
Shady-looking men dressed in tailored suits: mobsters and wannabe-gangsters alike, sat at tables playing cards, leering at the dancing girls, and of course, discussing business,  all whilst their beautiful, glamorous female companions sat beside them loyally.

As you weaved between the tables carrying a tray of champagne flutes; your eyes and ears seemingly everywhere all at once, you found yourself struggling to concentrate on the task at hand.

Never before had you struggled to focus on your work, yet tonight was proving to be challenging.

Your chief at the precinct had permitted a phone call to Stephen on Christmas Day, but you hadn't arrived back 'home' until much later that night, which had aroused suspicion in your partner.

You'd felt wretched having to lie to him. Not knowing what else to say, you'd told him you'd had a migraine and been in bed all day sleeping. His concern for you caused guilt to gather in the pit of your stomach, where it settled like a lead weight and made you feel almost nauseated.

But what else could you do? Stephen knew that all contact with your friends was strictly forbidden whilst working undercover, so you couldn't say you'd been out visiting them, and you could hardly tell him the ugly truth. That you'd spent the day, and the night before, with Joker.

As if that itself wasn't bad enough, the events that had unfolded whilst you'd been in the clown prince's company made the situation even worse.........

After exchanging gifts  -- for what yours was worth, and yet he seemed delighted with the toy gun all the same -- you'd settled down on the couch to watch the usual Christmas movies on TV, before being served a festive feast prepared by Joker's personal chef.

Despite being full to the point of bursting, a playful comment you'd passed about him having everything done for him, had led to his insistence on going to the kitchen so he could make something himself from scratch, just to prove a point that he was capable.

Eggnog was the best he could come up with, and the pair of you had laughed like two old school friends as he attempted to impress you by juggling with eggs.
He'd managed three with little difficulty, and then you'd tossed another one to him, resulting in him dropping two on the floor.

You'd cleaned up the mess together; the pair of you chuckling, you poking fun at him as he made up excuses.

"I'm better using juggling balls. I mean, eggs aren't exactly designed for juggling."

"Uh huh." You smirked as you added sugar, nutmeg and cinnamon to the saucepan. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it."

"I am a good juggler and I'll prove it to you sometime. What kind of clown would I be if I couldn't juggle?"

"A bad one."

His eyes narrowed as he looked up at you, "Bad one? It was a rhetorical question."

"I know. But you're hardly a good clown are you."

He ceased whisking the milky egg mixture so he could gently grip your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"You're right. I'm very very bad........and I can prove that to you too."

You fought the need to swallow hard, and gently swiped his hand away.

"I know. That was also a rhetorical question. I need no convincing."

"What a pity. I think I would've enjoyed that."

Once you'd finished up in the kitchen, the two of you had ended up back in front of the television, this time watching some talk show Christmas Special in comfortable silence. The host was no Murray Franklin, but rather some poor substitute for the deceased talk show host; which served as a sudden reminder of whose company you were in. The man beside you, who had murdered Franklin during an impassioned rant over a year ago now.

However, your attention had then been caught by something else as you'd glanced out of the window.

Snow.

It was snowing outside.

Snow in Gotham wasn't a complete rarity, but it mostly happened in January or February, the city's coldest months. For it to be snowing on Christmas Day was nothing short of miraculous.

As if in a daze, you'd stood to get a closer look.

"Well would you look at that." Joker remarked casually, as he joined you by the window, "A Christmas miracle." He turned his emerald gaze on you, a wry smile quirking his red lips, "You like snow, don't you?"

"I love it! Come on, let's go outside!"

"Go outside? Forget it Ace, it'll be freezing out there. I'm not exactly dressed for it--"

"Ohh come on, Fleck!" You'd giggled excitedly, grabbing him by the arm, "You can put on a coat. Where's your sense of fun?"

"Excuse me? I am fun personified! Didn't I promise you fun when I offered you a job?"

"Then come on! Now's the time to make good on your promise."

Running to the door with all the excitement of a child, you'd thrown it open and rushed outside.

The goofy smile on your face betrayed the carefully cultivated facade of a cool, calm, badass bodyguard/assistant. As you slowly turned around with your arms extended; hands open to catch the soft snowflakes as they fell all around you, you unwittingly showed the real you. Your childlike playfulness that was impossible to suppress due to your utter delight at seeing it snow on Christmas Day.

But then your attention was captured by the loud whirring sound that seemed to be coming from up above.

You tilted your head back; blinking away the white flakes that clung to your eyelashes.

"What's making that noise?" You asked, once Joker appeared by your side, looking comically underdressed in his lounge pants, baseball pumps........and a navy V.neck sweater.

"It's uh, probably just a plane coming in to land." He mumbled.

"That's not a plane. It would have to be flying dangerously low. Besides it doesn't sound like a--"  Your words trailed off as you stepped back further away from the house in order to scan the skies.

The snow was no longer falling on you now, yet it continued to flutter down on Joker; dusting his green hair, and shoulders like icing sugar.

You stared at him in confusion, and he heaved a sigh of defeat.

"Okay, you wanna know what that is little Miss party-pooper? That's the sound of three large rotating blades shaving a 400 pound block of ice, and a high-powered fan blowing the particles into the air. You happy now?"

"Wait, what? Where's the ice?"

"On the roof." He replied, like it should've been obvious.

Feeling stunned, you allowed him to place an arm around your shoulder and manoeuvre you back towards the house as if you were a mannequin on wheels.

"Y-you're making snow." You managed to state after a lengthy pause.

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was nothing. As if having somehow gotten hold of an industrial sized fan and a 400 pound block of ice was no inconvenience to him at all.

"I heard you like snow. It's no big deal. I had to improvise but that's what I pay King for, he's my most resourceful goon. Anyway if you want to make the most of it you'd better stand closer. The fans can only blow the ice so far."

To your dismay, tears began to form in your eyes. Knowing what this could mean was startling, yet the enormity of the gesture was heart-meltingly overwhelming. He had done all this for you. Created a 'miracle' in order to make you happy.

"Oh....Fleck." You exhaled his name on a gust of breath, "I don't.......I don't know what to say."

"You lost for words? That's a first." He snickered, earning himself a playful punch in the arm.

"Ow! So that's the thanks I get? You know I've killed men for less. You get away with murder." He made a big show of rubbing the spot where you'd barely touched him, and you ignored his amateur dramatics.

"I....I really don't know how to thank you." You admitted honestly.

"Well......" He drew the word out, his tone suggestive. "You could thank me with a kiss. Seeing as it's Christmas."

His words momentarily threw you off balance; the pulsing heat now radiating throughout your body didn't help matters either, as you fleetingly found yourself contemplating grabbing him by his cute little sweater, and pulling him in for a kiss.

But no.

You couldn't allow yourself to think like that.

"I don't think so." You deadpanned, once again resuming your professional persona.

Joker huffed, clutching a hand to his heart theatrically, "Ouch! That hurts, Ace. No wonder you love the snow so much, you ice-queen."

"So what are you going to do? Fire me for being professional? I, unlike you, don't believe in mixing business with pleasure."

"Unlike me? What's that supposed to mean?"

For once it was you who rolled your eyes at him. "You know what I mean. I'm not one of your dancing girls, Fleck. They're always more than willing to kiss their employer."

"But I wouldn't do this...." He threw his arms out and spun around, "....for any of them."

You had no response for that. No witty retort. It was the truth and it both unnerved you and thrilled you in equal measures.

Desperate to change the subject, you bent down and scooped up a handful of snow; moulding it into a ball.

Joker immediately knew what you were doing, so hastily crouched down to grab some snow in order to make a snowball of his own.

You laughed gleefully as it hit him in the chest, and ducked as he threw one in return that struck your shoulder.

The fight escalated; the pair of you running around like gleeful children as you launched  snowballs at each other, and it only came to an end when Joker slipped and fell backwards into the snow that now covered a large patch of his huge front lawn.

"You know, I've never done this before."

You stood over him giggling, amused at the sight of him moving his limbs back and forth, making a snow angel.

"What? Made a snow angel?"

"Well yeah, but I mean, any of it."

Your laughter dispersed as you digested this personal revelation. The thought of him as a child, little Arthur Fleck; already an outcast as a result of the neurological condition that used to cause bouts of uncontrollable laughter, not being able to enjoy the most simple of activities, such as playing in the snow.

This made the whole experience more wholesome somehow, and satisfying to be a part of. As you gazed down on the lean man dressed so simply, he no longer resembled the ostentatious, gun-wielding killer-clown who was responsible for numerous crimes.

Only the greasepaint and dyed hair served as a reminder, which was undoubtedly a good thing. Otherwise you could easily forget yourself when in his presence. Forget who he was, and who you were.

"I wish I had a camera right now." You blurted, unintentionally.

Joker sat up, his smile ever-widening, "For blackmail purposes no doubt."

"As tempting as that would be, that's not what I meant. Although....I have to admit if this got out, your reputation would be ruined. No one would believe you wear lounge pants and V-neck sweaters."

You offered him your hand, which he took, but instead of standing he pulled you down. You landed in the snow, letting out a small squeal of surprise. But hey, you should've known better than to trust the Joker.

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you."

"And what about him?" You pointed towards the corner of the house, where Ten, another one of his "Royal Flush Gang" goons was stationed. His plastic clown mask thankfully hiding his expression.

Joker waved a dismissive hand, "He knows better than to gossip about the boss. Now......it's your turn to make a snow angel."

Obligingly you indulged him by rolling onto your back and creating an angel of your own, though you hadn't been as reluctant as you'd have him believe. It was all part of the pretence, you acting as if everything you did was under duress, when these days you scarcely felt any hesitation or reluctance at all.

You drew level with him as you sat up and automatically tucked one of his errant green curls back into place behind his ear. It was too late once you'd done it, only then realising just how familiar and intimate the action was.

Nervously you met his gaze to find him looking at you with a half-curious, half-longing look in his eyes, which made you feel warmer than any of the exertion from playing in the snow had.

You coughed gently, clearing your throat. "Let's take a look at our works of art then."

You both clambered to your feet and dusted yourselves down, standing side by side, close enough for your arms to touch.

"Your angel looks like it's been hit by a drunk-driver." He erupted with laughter, laughing so long and hard the sound became raspy and hoarse due to the cold air hitting his throat. That and the fact that he was such a heavy smoker.

"Yeah well yours is missing half it's head." You pointed out between giggles, which made him laugh harder still, and his mirth was infectious when it wasn't maniacal. "Still, its not a bad job for a first attempt."

As his laughter slowly dissolved, he turned to you suddenly, like he'd just remembered something important.

"If it's not for blackmail purposes, what would you want a camera for?"

The question surprised you; its deliverance was so abrupt, but the earnest expression that adorned his painted features made you answer honestly.

"To capture the moment." You smiled, "This would be a good memory to look back on."

You were playing it down massively. You knew deep down you didn't need no camera to encapsulate each of these rare, bizarrely blissful moments. You'd cherish them forever. The Christmas Day when joker brought the snow just for you, and played with you in it like a carefree youngster. The fact that he'd been deprived the experience when he was one, made it all the more treasurable.

"So you're having fun?"

You nodded and smiled slightly, "Would you believe I actually am."

Having noticed you were then shivering, he suggested you go back inside where a warm fire and warm eggnog awaited you.

Everything was well with the world. In fact Gotham itself felt, for once, like a wonderful place to live in, in that moment.

Then Fleck just had to go and ruin your contented state of bliss, by making things exceedingly complicated. The clown couldn't help himself, he was like a painted reincarnation of Valentino.

"Hey..." His large hand landed on your shoulder, gently tugging you back. "....haven't you noticed something?"

Having no choice other than to stop, you gave him a questioning look. He jerked his chin upwards with a small tilt of the head, and you followed his gaze upwards to where a sprig of mistletoe hung from the porch.

Your eyes widened. He couldn't be serious. And you were convinced it hadn't been there before. Had one of his goons been instructed to sneak out and place it there strategically whilst you'd been distracted? Would he go that far?

Of course he would. This was the guy that currently had a 400 pound block of ice up on his roof.

You couldn't be sure what bothered you the most. The fact the sneaky son of a bitch had pre-arranged this with his goons; which meant he'd deliberately set out to try his luck with you.....or the fact that it was working.

Well, it had almost worked.

"This again? Look, Fleck, I'm not-- hey!"

Before you'd realised his intentions, he cupped your face in his large hands and backed you up against the front door. His kiss was so sudden and fierce that for a split-second you wondered if your front teeth had been knocked down your throat.

His passion and ferocity was startling. Your heart beat wildly; your pulse whooshing in your ears as those damn perfect lips pressed against yours; attempting to tease you, tempt you, into a response.

The kiss was powerful, creating a kind of sweet, electrifying vibration throughout your entire body, making every nerve stand on end.

Your arms, your traitorous arms, robotically moved upwards to wrap around his neck, and your fingers twitched with the desire to play in his stringy, green curls.

But you had to put an end to this madness.

You don't know how, but you managed to summon the willpower to push him away. You brought your hands down; placing them firmly on his chest, and shoved him back.

"Tha-that is not okay, Fleck!" You hissed, your temper spiking dangerously. "I specifically told you I don't mix business with pleasure!"

"Calm down, Ace. It's just a beloved old Christmas tradition after all."

"Tradition my ass! That mistletoe wasn't there when I arrived here yesterday. Did you order one of the boys to hang it there last night? Or maybe this morning after you gave me the purse? Did you think I'd be easy to seduce because I hugged you?"

"I'm not trying to seduce you." He insisted, giving a derisive snort, "Jesus christ, can't I just do something nice without being accused of being a bastard?"

"But you are a bastard, you've admitted so yourself." You hurled at him as you entered the hallway, "You can't buy me with an expensive purse or some fake snow. I already told you I am not one of your whores!"

"Listen to me!"

He gripped you by the shoulder and roughly spun you around to face him. His expression had darkened. His brow forging into a deep scowl, which made him look genuinely terrifying.

"The purse was a gift, as was the snow. I didn't do it to try and get you into bed. I meant what I said, I like to see you smile. The kiss was just a kiss, a bit of fun. I don't expect anything more. Got it?"

The severity of his tone drove all colour from your face, dousing your temper; taking your courage with it.

You nodded stiffly, "Okay."

"Okay." He snapped, still bristling with anger.

You turned around to continue walking, when suddenly he caught you again and pulled you backwards. You let out a shaky gasp, your breaths becoming uneven as he wrapped an arm around your waist; his hold almost possessively tight.

"One last thing doll, just so we're clear on the matter..." His free hand took your face in a firm, yet gentle grip, and he slowly turned your head to the side; forcing you to look up at him, ".....If I were going to try and seduce you, I wouldn't be so covert about it. Subtlety isn't exactly one of my strong points, as you well know."

His lips curved upwards then into a devilish smile, making your heart stutter in your chest.

You forced your own lips into something that resembled a smile, and breathed a sigh of relief as he let you go.

No sooner had you begun walking again, when his next words brought you to an abrupt halt......

"Oh and by the way, when you refer to the dancers as whores, I can't help wondering why you'd be so hostile." He walked by you, throwing you a mischievous glance over his shoulder, "If I didn't know better, I might think you're just a teensy bit jealous."

Your mouth literally fell open, as if you'd been smacked in the face. Once again you wanted to respond with a scathing retort, but your mind had annoyingly gone blank.

Heat seared your face as he winked at you, then practically skipped into the living room; having shaken off his previous anger as if it were no more than the dusting of snow he'd physically dusted off outside.

"That was kinda cute. Our first fight." You jumped slightly as he clapped his hands together. "Now, let's see how that eggnog tastes shall we?"

You hadn't seen Joker since that day.

You'd politely declined his offer to spend another night at his place, and he hadn't argued or attempted to talk you out of leaving. Instead he'd had Ten drive you to the fake address you'd given him, so as not to disclose your 'real' fake address, and you'd parted on friendly terms.

The club had been closed the following week, while undergoing a slight revamp in preparation for the grand New Years Eve party, so you along with the majority of the staff were given some much-needed time off.

The only problem was, without being able to call your friends up, or see Stephen, the days dragged-by agonisingly slowly, and you couldn't stop thinking about how things had played out at Joker's home.

And as much as you hated it, you couldn't stop thinking about that kiss.

Well, it hadn't exactly been a real kiss. Just a brief few seconds of his mouth on yours, before you'd come to your senses and put an end to it. Hell, you hadn't even kissed him back. But......you'd wanted to.

What was happening to you? This was all getting far too complicated, to messy for your liking.

And unbeknownst to you it was about to get even messier......

Rapturous applause broke out from behind you, and you instantly turned to see what all the fuss was about.

You might've guessed it was Joker causing the commotion. He was always at the centre of everything. The acclaim, the notoriety, the chaos.

He was winding his way through the throng of revellers, not even stopping, just briefly shaking the odd hand that was proffered to him.

Amidst the sea of a faceless crowd all dressed in dark, subdued colours, Joker's look and style commanded attention. Like a wild exotic bird from some foreign place, let loose in a grimy city, all others were pigeons in comparison, and he put them to shame.

It was no wonder that every man in this room envied him, and the women wanted him. The very way in which he carried himself exuded power, confidence, and charisma.

As he sauntered your way, dragging on a cigarette with such languid flair it made the simple act of smoking look glamorous and sexy, you pretended not to notice him. Instead you hurried towards the smallest bar that was tucked slightly into the back corner of the room, and set your tray down.

Jessie, one of the bartender's gave you a quizzical look.

"My feet are aching." You grumbled as an excuse, and it wasn't a lie.

The petite redhead seemed to buy it, humming sympathetically.

"It's shitty you can't wear your boots." She remarked, "You've already been around the room more times than a break-dancer. Those heels must be killing you."

"Ugh, I'd give anything for my boots right now." You groaned, longing for the comfort of the biker-style boots that you wore whenever you were out on a job with Joker. "Not sure if they'd work with this outfit though."

"Yeah you look fucking hot tonight girl." Jessie raved, admiring your slinky red dress which accentuated all of your best features. "Who's the lucky guy? C'mon you can tell me. Is it Jack?"

"What? No! There's no guy."

"Girl?"

You laughed and shook your head, "I just like the dress. I'm not wearing it to impress anyone."

You were trying to convince yourself, but you were failing miserably. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind kept whispering, taunting you by claiming you'd chosen the dress specifically because it was exactly the same shade of red as a certain infamous suit.

"Oh god, here comes Joker. I better look busy." Jessie muttered under her breath, and promptly returned to her designated duty; serving people rather than ignoring them.

"There she is, my beautiful assistant. Have you missed me?" His smooth voice cut through the music, his raspy, honeyed tones making your skin prickle.

"Yes, but my aim is improving."

His sharp, shrill burst of insane laughter attracted the attention of everyone within hearing distance, and you shifted awkwardly.

"I was looking for you as the clock struck midnight but then I remembered you'd probably be hiding from me....afraid I might want a new years kiss, huh?"

Reluctantly you turned to face him, cursing the fact you were blushing again.

"Can you keep your voice down? You of all people should know even the walls have ears in this place."

He quirked a painted eyebrow at you, his trademark impish grin firmly in place.

"What's the matter? You're not embarrassed are you?"

"No. But it's important we keep things professional, for appearances sake--"

"You and your professionalism." He cut you off, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "It's a party, doll. Surely you can let your hair down for one night?"

"I'm working, Fleck, in case you hadn't noticed." You retorted, dryly.

He frowned, looking mildly vexed. "Yeah and why is that exactly? You're my assistant, not a waitress."

"You hired me as a waitress, and for your information we're short-staffed tonight. So I'm helping out. Part of my duty as your assistant includes assisting with the running of this place."

"Okay, so as of now you're off duty. You can't argue, I'm the boss."

You didn't have time to reply. He grabbed you by the hands, before pulling you towards him with such force your entire body followed.

"Fleck! Behave." You whispered sternly.

"I always behave." He chuckled, as he tried to coax you into a dance. "Just badly most of the time."

"Okay, knock it off buster! People are going to talk."

"Fuck 'em! What does it matter? We're only dancing, right?"

"No, we're not!" Mustering all your nerve, you broke free from his hold, "You're the boss. You don't dance with your employees."

It wasn't something Joker did. Never had you seen him dance with somebody before, and others were bound to notice too. In fact, tonight was the first time he'd entered the club without some glamorous woman on his arm. But even when he was accompanied by some arm-candy, not once had he ever stood up to dance with them.

"You seem to forget, doll, I'm Joker. And I do whatever the fuck I want."

As it to emphasise his point, he took his half-smoked cigarette from between his lips and extinguished it by dropping it into one of the champagne flutes.

"And also...." He began walking around you now in a circle, each step deliberately slow in order to prolong the anticipation of what he might do next, ".....just because I let you pelt me with snowballs, doesn't mean you can order me around like some little lapdog. I may be playful, but I also bite."

His circling put you in mind of a predator toying with its prey, and you shivered slightly, waiting for him to pounce.

"I'm actually more like a cat." He continued to muse, "A big ass cat though, like a tiger, not some fragile little kitten. I'm domesticated to some extent, but there's still that wild animal instinct inside. I'm.....untameable."

As he drew level behind you he edged closer, and you found yourself incapable of movement. You were frozen to the spot. Your heart beating twice as fast as it should.

"Oh, did I forget to mention how ravishing you look tonight?" His breath tickled your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "A feral beast like me could just eat you up. That dress is...." He gave a low whistle rather than use words to express his appreciation of it.

You drew a sharp intake of breath as you felt his hands resting gently on your hips. The song currently being played by the DJ was Love to Love You Baby, Donna Summer's infamously scandalous hit. Her erotic moaning and groaning accompanied by the throbbing tune of the funk guitars, and pulsing disco beat, only amplified the sensuality of the position Fleck had you in.

He began moving behind you. There was just a sliver of light between his body and yours, and you could feel and sense his every move. He was swivelling his hips slowly, his hands guiding your own into mirroring his sensual movements.

You attempted to pull away but he held you in place, so that you had no other choice than to just go with it.

The only alternative was to fight him off, which would cause a scene, and more importantly, piss him off.

Awkwardly, you began to move; your movements self-conscious and stiff to begin with, but as the breathy vocals of the song filled your head, your surroundings fell out of focus, as you allowed your senses to take over.

You could feel the heat that radiated between your bodies, his cool breath on your neck, and the sweet, smoky gunpowder smell of him filled your lungs as you breathed him in.

You were away from the crowd, dancing alone with Joker. Well technically you weren't alone. There had to be around two hundred other people in the club, but where you were standing, off to the side near a corner, it felt oddly intimate.

He was enticing you -- without speaking a word -- into a forbidden world filled with desire and unspoken promise. A dangerous parallel universe where sense and reason didn't exist. A place where the clown prince of crime reigned supreme over his empire, and had succeeded in beguiling you.

But you didn't care, not in this moment. In this moment you'd never felt so alive, so free and...,untamed.

As the lyrics of the song suggested, you were begging to be set free, and it felt as if that's exactly what he was doing. And you found yourself letting go. All tension left your body and you liquified in his hands.

Closing your eyes you leaned back into him whilst swaying your hips in perfect synch with his.

God, he was intoxicating, and through the haze of lust and desire, you cast off your inhibitions; allowing yourself to live dangerously, and you never wanted the moment to end.

Feeling emboldened by the sense of newfound freedom, you slowly moved up and down his body provocatively, deliberately letting your ass graze his groin. You held your breath and he let out an audible gasp; the sound stirring your blood.

"Red looks good on you," He whispered almost breathlessly; pulling you flush against him, so you could feel every inch of his solid, lean body, as he gyrated against you. "I want to cover you in it. Imagine....my red lipstick....all over you."

"Y-you weren't kidding when you said you were very bad, Fleck." You panted, biting your lip hard to stifle how shallow your breathing had become.

He threw his head back and gave a throaty chuckle, before lowering his face so his lips ghosted the bare skin of your shoulder, "I did say I'd enjoy proving it to you, and I warned you that I wouldn't be subtle."

Your skin had gone prickly. and a languid heat began burning and fizzing at the base of your stomach; the place where all the sweetest, most pleasurable feelings always came from. You were flushed with heat; all breathless, tingling and flustered.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, you were wickedly turned on.

As the tempo of the song shifted, becoming more upbeat, Joker suddenly spun you around to face him, clasping your hands in his so he could swirl you around.

The vocals were more upbeat too now, sounding less erotic and more like an actual pop song you could dance to.

His fingers entwined around yours, and as you gazed up into his striking green eyes, you suddenly felt like you'd been struck by lighting.

The music got faster, the singing more joyous, and he spun you ever faster, so you had to cling onto him tightly.
He was actually the only thing you actually wanted to cling to, and hang onto forever and ever.

That was when you realised, in a moment of sobering harsh clarity, that you were in way over your head.

You'd fallen in too deep. Like falling off the edge of a bridge, the descent had been sudden and unexpected, like you'd blinked and suddenly found yourself there; neck deep in the water, being swept away.

Swept away by him.

And you no longer wanted to struggle against the tide.