Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham or its characters.

Author's note:

This is a collection of one-shots for Jason/Barbara. I'll keep updating when I come up with more ideas. If you have any ideas and want to give me a prompt I'll gladly try to write a story for it too :)

X X X

Classical Conditioning

X X X

Summary: Jason had created a new face, a new identity, a new life. All was needed now was his soulmate. He'd found the perfect candidate…he just needed to mold her, shape her…and condition her. Rated M for sexual contents.

Jason had learned early on that his true love would never be simply given to him.

He understood how the world worked. There was no God, or greater entity that oversaw the human kind—the world operated according to the principle of luck.

That explained why he was denied a loving family and a normal appearance, while other people were given everything.

But what didn't kill him only made him stronger.

If it wasn't given to him, then he would create it.

He'd created a new face, a new identity, a new life. All was needed now was his soulmate.

And he'd found the perfect candidate. What was left was the most important step: he had to mold her, shape her…and condition her.

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I. Fear

"You were trying to escape, weren't you?" Jason questioned, his fingers holding her chin tight.

Barbara flexed her arms against the ceiling cross that her wrists were tied to. "No. The door was open…I was just—"

"The door was open, and you just couldn't resist," he spoke lowly, and Barbara could feel the chilling anger radiating off of him. "I've given you too much leniency and you're taking my love for granted."

Fear rose in Barbara as she saw how this could end really badly for her. "Please, let me explain—"

Jason pressed a finger over her lips to silence her and took a deep breath in frustration. "I'm tired of your excuses. You can stay in here until you think of a good reason why I should trust you again."

Barbara saw the unwavering expression on his face and knew he was beyond explaining or begging. She obediently accepted the gag that he held up to her mouth, then he fastened its straps behind her head and left the room.

She'd been left in this room for a hundred times, but this time, he did something different: he turned off the lights.

And Barbara was engulfed in the absolute darkness and silence.

.
.

She could see nothing at all in Jason's windowless kill room. The only sounds that she could hear was her own breathing and the clattering of metal against metal when she moved her restrained arms.

Barbara exhaled in exasperation. She could swear the door had been open! The door was always locked, but this morning it'd been open ajar.

She admitted the thought of escaping had crossed her mind, but everything had happened so fast. Curiosity had prompted her to step out of her prison, and before she could think about her actions Jason had walked out of the elevator and caught her in the hallway.

She hadn't been consciously trying to escape, but had she had more time to make up her damned mind, would she have tried?

Definitely.

Everything was crystal clear now. It'd been a test—Jason had left the door open—and she'd failed it.

Ssss.

In fact, she was surprised that he'd let her off the hook so easily. He hadn't hit her, threatened her, or hurt her in any way. He'd only asked that she persuaded him to trust her again…

Sssss.

Barbara snapped her head up. What was that sound?

Sss. Sss. Like someone dragging his feet on the floor.

Was somebody else in here? Barbara turn around as much as she could, but the darkness was all the same.

Ssss.

The sound was loud against the quietness in the room, like she was enveloped by it.

Barbara was not unaccustomed to fear. She'd been held hostage by Victor Zsasz, had played house with the Ogre. What could be worse?

But this other presence in the room…was the worst. She could sense it, and she had a feeling of what it was. The hair behind her neck stood up on end, her heart began to pick up speed, her mouth went dry and her body trembled. Suddenly she was panting, and cold sweat broke out across her body.

Then she felt a cold object touching her skin. The coldness started on her foot and slowly spread up her leg, and she was wheezing.

A snake. Slithering up her leg.

She screamed against her gag.

Another snake moved up her other leg. It twirled its body around her, and she could feel it constricting on her skin.

She screeched and jumped, kicking her legs and yanking at her restraints. The air dwindled in her lungs and terrified tears streamed down her cheeks.

She didn't know when unconsciousness claimed her.

.
.

"Barbara? Barbara, wake up."

She gasped, coming awake. The lights were on and Jason was standing in front of her. She was still bound, her muscles ached, but she wasn't gagged anymore.

Immediately she broke into uncontrollable crying. She pulled at the chains—ignoring the stings on her scraped wrists—and tried to move closer to him. "There are snakes here! There're snakes in here!" Her words were rapid and rushed, interrupted by little sobs Jason could barely make them out.

"Ssshhh." He wiped her tears away gently. "What're you talking about? What snakes?"

She sobbed helplessly at his touch. Deliberately keeping her eyes on him only she begged urgently, "There're snakes in this room. Please let me out, please."

"Barbara, look around you."

Barbara shut her eyes and shook her head no, cowering like a child.

"Open your eyes now or I'm leaving," he threatened firmly.

"No!" She opened her eyes right away, afraid that he'd leave.

"Look around you," he commanded.

Barbara sniffled and swallowed the lump in her throat, and turned her head reluctantly, expecting to be greeted by the horror that she'd seen last night. She blinked once, twice.

"Are there any snakes?"

Barbara slowly shook her head no, her expression wary and confused. Maybe the snakes were hiding? Maybe they would leap out at her when she wasn't aware…

"You had a bad dream, that's all," Jason murmured softly and brushed her sweaty hair away from her face. He held a cup up to her mouth. "Drink some tea."

She drank it up greedily, her dry mouth and throat instantly relieved by the moisture.

"Now, have you thought of what I said? Can you give me a reason to trust you again?"

Barbara's blue eyes widened in shock, and that was all the answer Jason needed.

"You have not given a single thought to my question," he remarked calmly.

She looked at him imploringly in distress. He didn't understand—there had been snakes here all night, she couldn't think at all. "Jason…" her words were stuck in her throat, because it was obvious there wasn't any snakes.

When Jason held up the gag she knew he was leaving her in here again. She jerked her face away from it and burst into tears. "No! Please, Jason. Please—"

Jason caught her face in a firm grip and pushed the gag inside her mouth. She wailed and begged, but he started to walk away from her.

Please don't be so cruel to her!

Dread filled her when his fingers found the light switch, and he turned the lights off.

.
.

She screamed.

One. Two. Three. There was more.

She wasn't supposed to be seeing this, right?

Jason had turned off the lights. It was supposed to be dark, and it was. But somehow she could see snakes, colourful snakes crawling out from all directions. Large and small, they were all hissing and slithering, coiling around one another.

They'd been hiding in the cabinets all along, and were coming out now that Jason was gone and the lights were out.

Ssss.

She shrieked in terror as they closed in on her. One snake slithered under her dress and up her leg. Its leathery, cold skin brushing along hers was revolting to say the least. She retched.

More of them started crawling on her. The red one made it to her neck and slowly wrapped its body around her throat like a lover's touch, and she was sure her excruciatingly pounding heart would burst, tearing her chest open.

Please, please. Make them go away. She'll do anything, anything!

She kept on screaming even when her throat began to hurt. Frightened tears kept flowing freely down her cheeks until she could not feel the snakes anymore.

.
.

When Jason came again, this time he was merciful enough to release her from the chains.

Barbara wrapped her arms around his neck at once and broke out into tears. "Jason, there're snakes. There really are snakes. You have to believe me. You have to believe me." Her voice was hoarse, her face was pale and her eyes were puffy. Her body trembled violently and her teeth chattered. The continual anxiety was draining her.

Jason rubbed her back as she cried into his chest. He sighed and kissed her head. "Barbara, I don't know why you keep saying that. Do you have an answer for me today?"

Seeing her so tortured had not softened his resolve.

Barbara pulled back to look at him. Her eyes welled up, her body shuddered and her lips quivered as she shook her head no. She could barely remember the question.

Disappointment began to take over Jason's face when Barbara wrapped her arms around his waist again. He can't leave her here again. She'd rather die. She hugged him tight and pleaded, "Please don't leave me here, please, please…" In a moment of desperation, she tilted her head up and kissed him.

He cupped her face and kissed her back, and she pulled his shirt out of his pants. Take her to the bedroom, and he can do whatever he wants with her. Anything, as long as she can leave this room…

Jason caught her wrists in his hands. He licked his lips and murmured, "What I want, is your heart." He placed a hand over her chest and stared into her fluttering eyes. "I want you to love me. Can you do that?"

Love?

A small, hopeful smile broke across Barbara's face, and she slipped into his arms again. Of course she could. Why couldn't she? As long as he could keep her safe from those snakes…she would do anything.

"I love you, Jason. I promise I'll never leave you. I'm yours. I'm yours, I'm yours…" she whispered the words like a prayer, and they didn't feel fake to her.

.
.

Ophidiophobia, the extreme and irrational fear of snakes.

Jason had learned that Barbara suffered from Ophidiophobia when a woman had come into her art gallery and asked of a particular painting featuring a giant serpent. Her reaction had been odd. She'd later revealed to him that she'd always been terrified of snakes, be it the actual reptile, a picture of it, or the mere thoughts of it.

He held up a small vial of amber liquid and smiled, then he carefully locked it inside his safe.

Derived from the fear serum created by Dr. Gerald Crane, this refined version of the substance came in handy when he needed to…scare her a little.

Added a few drops in her drinks—it had to be used sparingly, or it could drive her insane—now not only was she afraid of snakes, she was also afraid of the dark.

He switched off the lamp and could immediately feel Barbara press herself closer to him.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She clung closer and rested her head on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his torso. "I…I don't know." Her heart was racing, and her body was shaking. She'd never been afraid of the dark, but now…

She knew there was no snakes in the bedroom. In fact, she wasn't even sure if there really had been snakes in Jason's kill room. Logically, she knew it was highly unlikely that a bunch of snakes had just appeared and disappeared within a night.

Could it all have been a nightmare? A frightening, terrifying nightmare.

But she did know that the nightmare seemed to be less scary when Jason was by her side.

"Ssh. I'm here," Jason murmured and kissed her forehead. "I love you, goodnight."

Barbara might not love him now, but she needed him. Perhaps one day her mind would be able to separate the notions of snakes and the dark. But by then, she would already have fallen in love with him. Time could do a lot of wonderful things.

Barbara relaxed and whispered, "I love you too."

.
II. Arousal

Barbara looked at the shipment orders on her desk. Her manager practically ran the gallery for her now, but sometimes she still had to drop in to make some decisions and sign a few documents.

She looked through the list of new paintings that her managers had ordered, occasionally putting an "X" on the images of paintings that she did not want.

Then suddenly a hand covered her mouth from behind and pulled her up to a solid body. "Someone is preoccupied," he whispered in her ear, his voice deep and husky.

Just like that. A chain reaction was triggered in her body: her heart started pounding against her chest, her knees weakened, a pool of heat coursed through her body and she was acutely aware of the wetness between her legs.

She hadn't always been so hypersensitive.

"Barbara," Jason searched through each drawer. "Where did you put my blue tie?"

There was no response.

"Barbara," he called again with a firmer tone.

There was no response, but he heard laughter, and it was a dark laugh.

He walked out of his room and there she was, sitting on a chair and watching TV. He glanced at the TV—it was playing American Psycho. He smirked.

He quietly came up to her, and fast as lightning, he covered her mouth with a hand and pulled her up to his chest. "Someone is preoccupied," he murmured in her ear.

Ever since Jason would sneak up on her from time to time, each time catching her unaware and starting with the same routines.

Every time he'd made sure to make her so wet to the point she would start begging. Eventually, he didn't even need to fondle her to get her ready.

Barbara whimpered against his hand. He kept a hand on her mouth, and his other hand leisurely unzipped the back of her dress. She could already feel her cunt pulsing.

She started nibbling on his fingers, and could hear him take in a sharp breath behind her.

When he took his hand away from her mouth she turned her head to look at him. "I miss you."

Jason kissed her shoulder. "I miss you too." Then he took both of her hands behind her back and tied them with a zip-tie.

He led her to the sofa and made her kneel on the seat. Barbara moaned softly when he ran his fingers between her legs, fondling her over the damp fabric of her T-back.

And she trembled with excitement when she heard the unzipping of his pants.

"Sshh," he whispered, "the door is not locked."

Barbara gasped and began to protest. "We shoul—" lock it! She squealed when Jason pushed her T-back aside and entered her from behind, shoving her upper body against the soft cushion. He thrust into her cunt, letting his cock hit the deepest spot, and she mewled sweetly. It hurt in a fabulous way.

Ragged breathing continued behind her as Jason drove into her rhythmically, holding her wrists like they were the reins on a horse. She cried out when suddenly he slapped her ass, the sting coupled with the feeling of his cock reaching the end of her channel drowned her with euphoria, and she wiggled her hips, begging for more.

Jason hissed and slapped her round bottom again. He pounded into her, his movements harsh and fast, knocking her breath away. Then he snaked a hand around to find her clit.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door.

Barbara whimpered into the cushion as a finger brushed across her swollen clit.

The person knocked again, and Jason was not stopping. He grabbed her waist with a hand and angled himself so that he was ramming into her even deeper, claiming more of her with his cock.

Barbara suppressed a moan and choked, "I'm…busy!"

"I got a really important file here. Just need a quick signature." Her damned manager!

The finger brushed against her clit again, drawing circles easily with her wetness.

She growled, "I'm busy!" The buildup in her lower belly was becoming too much. She turned to look at Jason with accusing eyes, and he smirked teasingly. He slapped her again—his finger on her clit drawing circles persistently—his cock once again found her sweetest spot—and she came. She buried her face in the cushion and moaned erratically as her orgasm sent waves of shattering pleasure through her body.

She shuddered involuntarily and Jason gasped behind her, grunting and huffing as her tightening walls sucked him dry.

Barbara panted as Jason released her arms. He slumped down on the couch and pulled her onto his lap. And she sighed with pleasure as she reveled in the afterglow of her orgasm.

Jason smiled as he looked at her. The love that he'd created for himself.

She was perfect.

.
III. Operant Conditioning

It only seemed natural that humans would repeat a behaviour if the behaviour was rewarded, and avoid a behaviour if the behaviour was punished. The laws of human behaviour had been unchanging from the very beginning of human history.

After a series of errors and trials, Barbara had learned what was acceptable and what was not.

Smoking pot was acceptable. Trying to escape was not. Going to the gallery/shopping was acceptable, but breaking curfew was not. Winking back at the dark-haired woman who had winked at her was certainly not okay.

Killing people was allowed, but attempting to kill Jason was a big no-no (it had had chilling consequences, and had earned her a few whip scars).

And for some bizarre reason, eating Tiramisu—one of Barbara's favourite dessert—was not permitted.

She drew him in for a kiss, and the moment she plunged her tongue into his mouth he cringed from her. "What is that?"

"Tiramisu," she said innocently.

He grimaced. "No more Tiramisu."

Jason liked coffee, but despised that popular Italian coffee-flavoured dessert, despite being of Italian descent himself. It simply tasted repulsive to him. A classic way to ruin coffee.

But as he drove past the dessert store today the image of Barbara sucking on the fork with enjoyment came to mind.

She'd asked to go to the Lakeside Park to watch the fireworks, and he'd said no. It was just too risky. The Lakeside Park was too close to the Gotham Train Terminal, and there would be a lot of people watching the fireworks. If he lost sight of her, it would not be easy to spot her in the crowd. Although he'd planted tracking bugs in her belongings, he was not willing to take any chances.

Jason bought a Tiramisu cake after all.

When he presented the cake to Barbara, she looked up in surprise. "I thought you said no more Tiramisu?"

"Just for today, you're allowed," he said, then added, "Make sure you brush your teeth after."

A coy smile spread across Barbara's face as she took a bite of the Tiramisu. "Give me a kiss?"

He made a face, recalling the soggy, unpleasant texture of Tiramisu. Even so, a fuzzy feeling spread through his chest as he watched Barbara lick the fork clean (seductively) with enjoyment, and he thought maybe he could allow her to have some Tiramisu again next time.

In a moment of sudden self-realization Jason knitted his eyebrows together.

Humans were likely to repeat a behaviour if the behaviour was rewarded, known as operant conditioning.

He'd thought he was conditioning her this entire time…In truth, was he being conditioned as well?

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-End-

Author:

Back when Barbara wasn't completely mental yet…*nostalgic*

Any feedback or prompts is always welcome!