{Authors Note: Hello all! Super excited to begin writing a piece involving some of these great characters from DC, specifically Suicide Squad, which I do not own just borrow for some fun story making I hope. Reviews and comments are super appreciated! In a moment of honesty, I'm just trying to strengthen my writing skills here. What better way to do that than with Fanfiction?}
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I wanted to do this; I wanted to see him. This was my choice, my decision. I reminded myself of this fact repeatedly as I walked up the winding marble staircase, headed into uncharted territory. I knew he was up there, waiting for his grand entrance. He lived for the drama.
I cringed listening to the hustle and bustle a few floors below. Halting at the top of the stairs, I peered over the balcony. Politics and money, glitz and glamor, greed and corruption - it was all down there. These men and women, wearing their tight gowns, and pristine tuxedos, mingled and laughed. They drank their fill and gossiped about the less fortunate.
They couldn't feel the sensation, the palpable friction running through the air. These people weren't aware of the imminent chaos, aware that his men shifted through the crowd. I would have never noticed them before everything had happened. Camouflaged to me once, but not any longer, men in suits moved fluidly through the masses with ease. No doubt they had everything planned. They mapped out all the exits, memorized floor plans, the guest list, and so much more. There wasn't much time to stop the raid. I could see it playing out, the horrified faces, hear the screams, and the shattering gunfire. The people downstairs couldn't prevent it, but I could. I could stop this mass murder and hysteria before it began.
Shaking the possible impending reality from my mind, I edged toward the door. My hands trembled when I reached for the handle. Hesitating, I reared back. Years, that's how long it had been since I had seen that face. I couldn't deny my nerves, but I didn't have the luxury of time to steady them. Bowing my head, I took a precious moment to steady my breathing. After all this time, the only thing separating us was just a door. One thin piece of wood kept the two of us apart. Pushing my hair behind my shoulders and smoothing down the front of my dress, I accepted that this was as ready as I would ever be.
Slipping in quietly, I surveyed the space and swept over the more significant, and important details. Ornate bookcases lined the back wall. Before them, couches and chairs semi-circled a large coffee table. The dimmed chandelier provided little lighting, but it permitted the city lights and moon to cascade noticeably through the sole arching windows to the left. There he stood, the focal point of any time, room, or place. The vibrant green hair, red lips, and pale skin were jarring even now.
I leaned against the door, letting it shut with a thud. The noise captured his attention. Wordlessly, without looking, he raised a gun in my direction. The familiar sound of its hammer clicking into place intensified my anxiety.
"It's been a long time," I spoke just above a whisper.
He straightened when he heard my voice. Jerking his head toward me, he stared. Those hollow eyes had been difficult to forget. They followed my every move as I stepped toward him. As the space between the two of us lessened, he lowered the gun gradually to the floor. The expression on his face was unreadable, but that wasn't surprising. He wouldn't show an ounce of emotion until he wanted too. Even then you wouldn't know what he felt.
"I don't think you've ever been speechless." I declared planting myself between the window and him.
"Ha. Ha. Ha." The grin and shining teeth surfaced with his laugh echoing against the stone walls. Clapping his pale hands, joyously, yet mockingly he spoke, "I'm so impressed. It's not everyday people come back from the dead. I truly didn't think you lived through that terrible fall." Running his hands through his trademark hair, he continued, "So, tell me how did you survive, hmm?"
He couldn't know the whole story, so, I parried, "The doctors did mention my heart stopped. Technically, I didn't survive. In fact, I think we could say; I died for you that day."
My answer didn't please him. His eyes narrowed allowing the darkened skin surrounding them to appear all the more sinister, menacing.
Refusing to let his intimidation effect me, I feigned a smile while sizing him up. He had selected black pants and a white blazer with black trimming for the evening. Much to his taste, he wore no shirt underneath. He loved and proudly showed his lean, tattooed physique to the world. Running my hand up his chest, I pulled back the top of his collar. My fingertips traced the multitudes of inked 'ha, ha' tattoos that peppered his body. "You've added more of these since I've been away, haven't you?"
I jumped as he slammed the gun against the wall. My obvious discomfort encouraged him; it broadened the smile that plastered and framed his face. Grabbing hold of my bare shoulders roughly, his strength paired with the cold metal against my skin became a powerful reminder of how in control he could be.
"Ooh. While I would love to reminisce, I have a party to attend. But that's why you're here, isn't it? You've come to my party! Leaning closer, his husky voice deepened with each syllable, "I can only guess what forces brought you here."
Without hesitation, I grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his mouth to mine. After a few moments, I broke the kiss and whispered breathily, "I came here for you." Before he uttered another word, I kissed him again. I was unwilling to break, reluctant to let him pull away. Ultimately an unwarranted concern because his reaction was immediate. Pressing me forcefully against the window, he groaned, wanting more than I would give.
Shoving him abruptly, I sidestepped away and out of his grasp. Maintaining eye contact, I dared him to follow. Stopping next to the table, I waited. This was the only place that it would work.
Striding purposefully, powerfully toward me, he wasted no time. His lips crashed into mine, and we fell to the floor. I was at the forefront of his thoughts now. He wanted this. Wrenching onto the collar of his blazer, I counted down the seconds. The clock was ticking, and he became more lustful with every movement.
I went rigid at the sound of the door opening, and Frost clearing his throat. The King of Gotham growled, pulling his lips from mine annoyed by the interruption. I, however, silently thanked Frost for his unexpected appearance. I needed to catch my breath. The Joker's reception was more welcoming than I could have imagined.
His annoyance transformed instantaneously to a look of maddening happiness. "Look, Frost," Grabbing my chin, he forced my gaze to his loyal right-hand man. "The missus is back from the dead." The laugh erupted into the room once more.
Frost nodded, "They will be ready in 15 minutes." He slid back out the door as quickly as he had arrived.
"I'm not going home with you," I said softly, stroking his face.
The Joker's smile faded. His red lips pressed tightly together, and eyes widened, calculating. He was assessing me, trying to find a motive for my actions. If I weren't careful, he would.
His left hand clamped down over my mouth. The famous tattoed smile on the back covered mine. "No, no, no of course not. You are here for an altogether different reason. You are here for me, yes but specifically," he waved his other hand in the air theatrically, "to stop my party. One might I add that you weren't invited too. That doesn't sound like you, but it does sound like something friends of yours might do. I always thought," his mouth inched closer to mine, "you and I were much better friends." Every word, every syllable dripped with intention.
Gently pulling his hand from my mouth, I attempted to fluff his ego, "You're right. You're always right." Pushing against his chest, I pulled my legs out from underneath him. Shifting so I straddled him, I placed his tattooed hands on my waist. "I'm actually here to make a deal, of sorts."
"You want to make another deal with me?"
"The last one turned out so well, didn't it?"
His head fell forward, shoulders relaxed. "Don't tell me. You want me to end the festivities this evening, hmm? You want me to call off this charade."
I sighed, leaning back. "It's boring. I know. It's too much of an ask. Maybe I should make this more interesting for you. Instead of a deal let's call this, a game, no," I paused, smiling widely. "A bet, let's call it a bet."
"Do go on," His voice deepened.
"If I can make it out of this building, and call the police before your party starts, then you leave with your guns and your men. No hostages. No gunfire. No death."
"Mmhhh, interesting. Now that you've gotten me tingling with all sorts of sensations tell me." He drew me closer, flush with his body. His breath was warm and sweet. Licking his lips, he asked the question I had anticipated, "What do I get if I win?"
"You get me." Wrapping my arms around his neck, I awaited his reply. This was it. I hashed all my bets on this offer.
He moaned, swinging his head back. Locking those blue eyes on the ceiling, he voiced his approval. "That's good. Very good. But allow me to take this a step further." Bringing his attention back, he traced my parted lips slowly and seductively. His eyes gleamed as he bargained, "This time there will be no more rules. No regulations. This time you surrender to me."
I understood what he meant, demanded. There was a clear difference between what I offered and what he wanted. He knew that. For the first time this evening, the gravity of my situation weighed heavy on my heart.
"Say it." He purred.
A lump developed in my throat. Agreeing hesitantly, I nodded. "If you win," I paused, watching his hollow eyes hang on every word, "I will surrender to you. I will choose you." Before he could say one more word, I kissed him hard for what would be the final time this evening. Setting his gun on the ground, he pushed me over, rolling on top of me. Writhing beneath him, I poured myself into the motions. Focusing on his movements, his desires, I let his hands roam down my body.
The Joker stiffened at the sound of metal snapping into metal, and our actions ceased. Biting down on his bottom lip playfully, I embraced the look on his face. Pushing hard against his chest, I rolled out from under him quickly.
"Ha. Ha. Ha." He tugged against the handcuffs, one on his arm the other to the leg of the table. "Is this where your friends come in? Take me away? Send me to Arkham?"
"No," I answered honestly. Standing cautiously, I inched toward the door. "I just needed a head start." This minuscule trap wouldn't last, but it would give me the precious minutes I needed. Without another moment to waste, I ran. I was out the door and down the stairs before I heard splintering wood against a hard floor.