I can't go back. Of course I can't! But then how do I get money? I'm hardly the most qualified, the only thing I have going for me is my young body and acceptance to doing dirty work. Pacing my apartment I fisted my hair and bit back a scream from deep within my throat. Why did the Joker have to ruin everything? All I wanted to do was dance at his stupid club and earn some decent cash but I couldn't even do that without becoming his soul mate and getting my pig of a boss killed! And yes, it was true. The joker was my soul mate. Last night, the first thing I did was rush to my bathroom and peel of what tiny outfit I worked in to reveal a massive, stretching tattoo starting from the dimples on my back, covering most of my shoulders and finally curving round my breasts. I had never seen a soul mate tattoo quite so extravagant and possessive as mine, the coloured ink claimed me as his before I could even open my mouth to disagree. The tattoo consisted of tiny black flowers with green and purple specs in them and to top it all off, I even had his name sprawled in green ink under my breasts. The tattoo would have been beautiful, if it didn't claim me as his without even asking my opinion or giving me a second chance. How was I, a relatively normal girl from France, suddenly so caught up with the King of Gotham city? It made no sense and I was not very happy with it at all.

What to do, what to do. If i returned to the club there was a very high chance that the Joker would spot me again. But would he even care? Would a mad man like him even want to get to know his soulmate? No! Of course he wouldn't, he was probably glad when I slipped off so he didn't have to explain it to me himself. Sighing at the thought I walked towards my closet and slipped on the most conservative 'outfit' I had for this job. Since I needed to cover up so much of my shoulders and back I slipped on a tight, black bodysuit with very high legs. While this outfit showed off more than the top of my breasts and all of my legs it successfully covered most of my sprawling tattoos. A little still peaked out but a little conceal would do wonders for that.

I flashed the bouncer my employees card and made my way into the already, thriving club. I kissed my fellow dancers cheeks in greeting and wished them a pleasant evening while I scouted out the chart showing us our dancing arrangements for the night. After a few intense minutes of searching the list and not finding my name I turned to one of the other girls and asked her what was going on. She laughed and handed me another piece of paper,

"Half of the usual dancers are on waitressing tonight, Mr Boss got angry last night and a lot of the staff haven't come back."

Thanking her profusely I slipped on my heels and grabbed a plate from the bar, and so began a very, very busy night.

"Would you like a drink, Sir? Madam?"

I addressed the incredibly well dressed couple sitting a few rows back near the Joker's private area. Thankfully, my shift was coming to an end and I was just about ready to drop. It had been a hard night last night and my lack of sleep was really starting to catch up with me. It started with deep bags under my eyes and progressed onto slouching muscles and aching headaches. The customers nodded stiffly at me and my offered tray of champagne. Trying incredibly not to roll my eyes at their snootiness I brushed some of my hair away from my neck as I reached over to pass the couple their drinks.

"Your soulmate lets you out dressed like that, dear?"

The stuck up woman I had incorrectly thought looked kind asked me as I tried to pass her a flue of champagne. My eyes darted up to meet her face, seeing her eyes concentrated on my now exposed shoulder. Thinking quickly I adjusted my top and stared the woman down with the stare I had learn't from my mother, my high class stuck up mother.

"My soulmate doesn't own me."

I was just about to turn and make a swift exit from that awkward encouter when her voice stopped me once again,

"Countess Accalia Bouffon? Is that you? Duchess Celia's youngest daughter?"

Freezing I slowly turned around to see the well dressing couple on their feet looking suitably outraged. I shook my head violently at my old title as I tried to inch my way out of the club but the pair where having none of it.

"It is you! Countess Accalia, what are you doing in a place such as this? Last we heard of you, your parents had planned your wedding to the Duke of Paris for the coming summer!"

I rolled my eyes at that but before I could come up with a witty remark a cool hand slipped possessively around my waist and drew me tight up to his body. From the electricity racing through my body I had no doubt as too whom held me in such an intimate fashion but I breathed his name out anyway,

"Joker."

"What's this I hear about my soulmate being engaged to some other guy?"

I shook my head at him rapidly for some reason, as if i owed it to him to have waited for him to show up (uninvited) in my life,

"No, no that's not true. I broke that off, not that i ever agreed to it."

"But Countess!"

The well dressed woman called out to me causing me to roll my eyes at them yet again. From her constant use of my birth title I easily gathered that they were lower on the social pyramid than I was, likely much lower.

"Assez! Silence ma patience est à bout." (Enough! Silence my patience is wearing thin)

My use of our native language seemed to shut them up enough for me to turn back to the man who held me with a content little smirk on his face,

"Who knew my little dancer was actually a french countess! It just makes me want to laugh."

His sentence stopped when he looked me over,

"But your outfit doesn't. Come. Now."

He grabbed my hand and began leading me away from the busy atmosphere of the club despite me protests. And i protested pretty loudly,

"Stop! Please Joker, I have to work."

Scoffing he mumbled something about how ridiculous that excuse was before finally reaching his destination…his bedroom, judging by the rich decorations and guns mounted all around the room.

"Strip."

Holding my hands up in shock at his commandment I took as many steps away from him as the closed door would allow,

"Whooow slow down there buddy, I ain't a free show."

With a humourless smile the Joker sat himself down on his king-sized bed and laughed at me,

"I do know that, I pay you." With me still being hesitant the Joker growled and threw his hands in the air,

"I just want too see your tattoos, I'm not ordering you to get naked. Although, it would be appreciated, pretty."

Jeering at him I walked over to him with a little huff in my step and turned my back to face him pointing to the large zipper starting from the top of my neck all the way down to my bottom.

"I'm gonna enjoy this."

I decided to ignore that comment but stepped away from him as soon as my body suit came un-done. Covering myself with my arms I stood before him, dressed in only my underwear but feeling incredibly exposed the way his eyes zeroed in on the tattoos his soul put there, for his eyes only.

"Twirl baby. Oh god baby twirl."

His voice made me want to collapse but I somehow managed to get my legs mobile enough to give him the little turn he clearly desired.

"There's more isn't there! Oh baby show me, show daddy please. Pretty, pretty, pretty please."

He all but moaned at me. Suddenly feeling a wave of confidence, I turned by back to him and unhooked my bra, placing my arms over my breasts to cover up but leaving enough in view for him. to see his name scrawled across my skin, previously hidden by my lacy red bra.

All noises from him stopped the moment I turned around and his eyes finally saw his name, permanently etched across my delicate skin. The Joker just stared. At least he only starred for a while before he was springing of the bed and approaching me like a predator after it's terrified prey. I whimpered when his hot breath sent shivers down my spine but all he did was drop to his knees and stare at his name. 'Joker'

Cold fingers tentatively reached up and traced the spiralling green print, so softly I wouldn't have known he was touching me if it wasn't for the pure bliss I experienced as a result of it. I didn't know what to think, or what to say! How could I talk to him which his fingers caressed his name under my breasts? What kind of conversation starter would I used in this unique situation?

"Do you like them?"

I asked him nervously, his gaze reached up to meet my own. Cool blue to warm brown.

"Like them? Oh baby, daddy loves them more than you know…especially this one." Joker replied in a cheerful tone with his palm resting across his name, his tattoo on my body. His body suddenly stiffened and he moved away from me, pacing the room. The Joker appeared to be arguing with himself, gesturing wildly with his hands while I stood there, mostly naked and slightly afraid of his sudden mood change. When he finally neared me again his tongue lashed out and kissed a small branch of the tattoo on my right shoulder,

"Has…has anybody seen these?"

"No!" I shook my head violently, defending my composure in an oddly defensive fashion…considering my current work placement. His kisses grew rougher, his slight stubble scratching across my skin in an almost painful way, a pain that i enjoyed more than I cared to explain to myself.
"They never will, or it will get them killed, do you hear me, pretty?"

Gulping I nodded, terrified of the man behind me while also feeling a type of fascination towards his rough but careful treatment of me. When I finally mustered up the courage to do so, I turned around, my hands still covering my breasts, ending up pressing my front into his own, purely accidentally, of course! Joker smiled at me, his mouth curving up into an all out grin. This was one of the things I liked the most from the mad man I was slowly getting to know. His smile. His beautiful, infectious, fucking sexy smile. Sine just a smile from him melted my restraint and resolve, I really didn't want to see what happened when he bursted into one of his musical laughs.

"Come closer pretty…closer please baby."

He whispered so fast I nearly missed it but my perky ears sure didn't. I followed his command to a T, closing the tiny gap between our bodies that had began to feel like a restraining order. Addictive purrs vibrated his chest cavity, travelling through to my own body, sending purely delicious waves of electricity through the both of us. This was what it meant to have a soulmate, to have someone so in tune with yourself that every touch caused mountains to shake and waves to crash. I suddenly felt like a nervous little school girl again, as if was going to be judging my end of year test and I needed to please him in anyway possible. I was further surprised when the Joker stepped away from me, running a hand through his vibrant green hair as he laughed our intense encounter off,

"I have clothes you can change into, wait here."

He had barely been gone for a minute before he returned but that was plenty of time for me to slip my discarded bra back on again, feeling incredibly self conscious about all that I had just shared with a stranger I had only know for two days, even he was my soulmate! Joker threw me a large green t-shirt and a pair of black cycling shorts. I raised an eye brow at the oversized, green t-shirt with a large portrait of himself on it. Was this some weird man claim thing? I shouldn't have, as a card carrying feminist, but I couldn't help smiling at his little possessive acts. He was my soulmate and he clearly wasn't afraid to show it, even if that involved making me wear a ridiculous t-shirt.

"You won't be working here anymore Accalia."

Shaking my head at him I attempted to explain how dire my situation would be if he dared to do that, cutting of my funds would send me straight back to my parents, straight back to a stupid arranged marriage I had never nor never will agree to.

"No! No, please don't Joker, I need that money to pay for my flat, please Joker. I don't want to have to go back to my parents!"

Joker raised his eyebrows at me before throwing his head back, a tide of laughter taking him away with the fairies. My previous assumptions were unfortunately correct, with every laugh that echoed around the room my knees grew weaker and weaker and my face hotter and hotter. He sure did know how to make a girl want to fall to her knees. The laughter finally stopped when he saw my state, his body portrayed arrogance as he leaned down to my height and kissed a strip of hair hanging in my eyes,

"Oh you pretty, pretty girl. What ever made you think I would let you leave?"