A/N: A one-shot I wrote a while back, thought I should post it to see what people think.

Title: Intoxication

Summary: Intoxication: poisoning by a drug or toxic substance. He was her drug. And she was very, very infected.

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Iris DeLaine (OC)

Rating: M for sexual content and mentions of violence

Intoxication

Your eyes…they haunt me. I have not slept a steady night; forever I fear I shall be haunted by your eyes. They are so black…inky as the evening sky, without the scattering of starlight or the staining of dusk's fading, yearning hold. Yet they possess no light. I have never seen another pair that lack the gleam of light, of life. I hear far too many people throughout this campus speak of how you possess no soul.

I have also heard that eyes are the windows to the soul.

Perhaps then, you do not have a soul.

How blissful such an existence must be…to live without the burdens of such emotions; to pass through each day and never have to think about the consequences of your actions, for what do consequences matter to you? And you did not think of the consequences, did you, my teacher, my mentor? I knew of your experiments…I knew, oh yes, I knew. I could hear their screams, hear the pounding of their fists upon cold metal doors that would not yield to their demands, just as you would not.

Perhaps that was when my obsession began.

I could feel your eyes watching me so often, dear teacher. I sensed your presence, though I would never confront you for it. Your pride is sacred to you, and therefore it is sacred to me. I can only pray I would be as precious, as holy to you.

My own pride rivals your own, professor of mine…though in the quiet, in the darkness that protects me from all outside interference, I permit that pride to dissipate, as though it never existed. I lie upon cool sheets of silk, my clothing peeled from my body, for in my imagination, those dark reaches of my mind which you have unlocked, dear mentor, you hold no use for such things. Of course, I take my time, as I know you would. The slowness only intensifies the longing, the desire that begins to blossom within the body, the soul.

Your hands are cold, so cold, yet they set my body aflame with the lightest touch…a mere ghosting caress. But such gentleness only exists for so long. Soft and gentle will soon become fierce, hard, cold and possessive. You have witnessed my scars, watched in silent rapture as cold, clean steel pierces flesh. You have watched in hungry solitude as the blood seeps at first, then pours down to white floors, staining crimson with my life force. Do you desire to touch that scarlet flow, taste it? I wish you would…to mingle my blood with yours….fuse our souls forever. Then they could never, ever separate us.

You taunt me.

You caress me.

You infect me…break me…swallow me without hesitation.

And I am begging you for it. I want it…I need it. Only you could ever coax pleas from my lips. Perhaps I need to learn to beg. Need it as desperately as I hold the need to breathe. But I would not think of breathing with you, my teacher, my Master. No….perhaps you would take it too far. Perhaps you would get carried away in the frenzied heat and passion of our play.

But it would not be so reckless as some simple crime, would it? No, my demon…no, you are far too clever, too passionate for that.

I would feel the cold bite of the blade upon my skin, wouldn't I? Yes, of course I would…feel it pierce, feel it slice deeper and deeper to fuel your need. It would go deeper…deeper….I would be upon the very brink of death, of that absolute and final ecstasy…

But you will not let me go so easily…would you?

Pray, say you would not.

Say you would torture me, make me suffer to the point of madness—to that brink where I can no longer draw a line between what is suffering and what is intoxicating pleasure. I would beg you for this, but you will not get such pleas from me so easily. I know such submission would disappoint you. I will never disappoint you.

Say you would soak this bed in my blood, but you would not permit me to leave so easily. No…no, you would not, would you? You would claim me, force me to scream out into the heavens, to all inhabitants of this hypocrisy-ridden city that I belong to you—Scarecrow, Master of Fear, God of Terror…

My angel and demon all in one.

For you set my soul free only to claim it for your own.

Say you would. Say you want me.

Chain me. Cast me into eternal darkness. Force my dependence upon you and only you…forever and always. Accept my resistance to your power, embrace it, for you know I will never, can never refuse you. My resistance will fuel your fire, and your majesty will infect me soon enough.

I dream of it so.

For in my dreams, you are as intoxicated with me as I am with you.