Adria was left to her own devices, in a room full of darkness. She knew there was a door somewhere, as they had to come in from somewhere. She also knew that there was at least one light in the room, but no windows. She knew it was likely best to heed her captor's warnings, but she couldn't just sit in the middle of a cold, concrete floor, hunched in a little chair for the rest of her existence. She decided to be brave, and explore her immediate surroundings. Her first thought was her camera. She had slung it around her neck when the Joker had thrown it back at her, and she now lifted it to her eye, and tried to snap a picture. It might be useful evidence. But her camera replied with a little icon that meant the memory card had been removed.

He had taken it out after he took the pictures of her. Clever devil.

So Adria fumbled with the flash for a moment, and managed to set the flash to its manual setting. She stumbled through the darkness, flashing the room at intervals until she had a decent bearing on where she was.

There was no discernable door, so it had been hidden somewhere. There was a questionable looking bed in one corner, and a great expanse of dark, concrete floor. Adria guessed she was in a basement, or a warehouse of some sort. At length, she groped her way along one wall, until she found the bed. At least she would be more comfortable there. The pain in her head had returned somewhat, now that she wasn't being barraged by new information. She lay on her side and listened to the silence for awhile. And then she heard the door. She sat up, terrified. Was he back for her? What was he going to do with her? Visions of him, grinning maniacally, swam before her eyes. But then she heard the footsteps, and they weren't the brisk clicking of the Joker's shoes, but a small, shuffling sound. After a while, a tiny old woman shuffled into the light, groped around for a moment, and found the chair. She lay something on it, though Adria was too far away to see what. The old woman was also carrying something more. The young woman's heart ached to see her shuffle back into the darkness. What did a madman need an old woman for? But the shuffling footfalls grew closer, and a frail little voice was soon right beside Adria.

"Dinner, dearie?" The old woman croaked. She thrust the other something at Adria, and though the blackness was nearly complete, she could make out the outline of a tray.

"Thank you…" She replied numbly.

"Of course, love. But I shan't keep the master waiting for his dinner. Someone has to take care of that troublesome man…"

"If you say so." Adria mumbled.

"You'd best watch your tongue." The old woman warned. "That boy has quite a temper. And I may be blind as a… as a bat, you might say…" Her tone had turned surprisingly sinister.

"…But I hear just fine." And the old woman giggled cheerfully, and shuffled away. When she had neared the door, Adria could hear the old woman talking to herself… The poor woman was crazy, just another one of the Joker's minions. But thanks to the old woman's senility, Adria did have a decent idea of where in the room the door was. Just then, the light over the chair guttered, plunging the entire room into darkness, and a bright beam directly over the bed flashed to life. Adria's eyes dazzled in the light, and she squinted, groping for the tray that the old woman had left.

Food was the last thing on her mind, however, and she set everything aside, picking up the tray, and moving into the darkness groping for the place where the old woman had exited. She didn't get far along the wall when she felt something peculiar. Something was in her way. With a flutter of excitement inside, she lifted the tray defensively, and groped for a door handle… and found a hand instead.

"Miss me already, Sweetheart?"

With a yelp, Adria swung the tray as hard as she could, but he had already caught it, and knocked it aside with a clatter. She found herself being wrestled to the ground, and he deftly kicked her feet out from beneath her, sending her crashing. He swiftly clambered on top of her, pinning her hands behind her head.

"Well, Angel, if you wanted me this badly, you should have said something before." He quipped, taking a moment to savor the compromising position he had put her in. He dipped towards her, taking a moment to bury his face in the space between her neck and shoulder, and inhale deeply. She squirmed and yelped. A gloved hand was quickly placed over her mouth, and before she could swing her free hand to claw at him, he had pinned both wrists to the floor with one arm. For being such a lank, thin man, he was stronger than he looked.

"Shush shush shush…" he rumbled. "No need to let everyone in on our little date…"

Adria responded with some incoherent mumbling from beyond his hand, but he responded by squeezing her cheeks painfully and she fell silent.

"Good girl." He hissed.

He let her fight and squirm for awhile, taking an evident amount of pleasure from her desperation.

"You know… The more you fight, the more I'm going to enjoy myself." He grinned. Adria went still.

"Damn." He mumbled. At length, he removed his hand from her mouth, gazing down into the blackness. She had turned away in disgust. Again. He hated that.

Fighting the urge to bang her head against the cold concrete floor, he stood up instead, pulling her with him, and tight to his chest. If she didn't want to look at him, she didn't have to. But he had to occupy himself somehow. He held her wrists behind her in one hand, and held her head to his chest with the other, sloppily stroking her hair. He squeezed her wrists, waiting for the muffled whimper that he knew would follow. It was a satisfying feeling, knowing he could control the emotions of another human being. Make them feel whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He had mastered fear, this he knew. But could he master other feelings too?

Adria whimpered, breathing in the musty smell of the Joker's green silk vest. It was deceptively smooth and reassuring, counterbalancing the rage that was building in the chest behind it. She could feel it in the tension of his hands. His heart was thumping in his chest, and it inwardly surprised her that he had a heart at all.

"For future ref-er-ence…" He said patiently, voice rumbling through Adria's brain, "Whenever you look away from me, I will assume you are not, uh. Paying. Attention. And we can do this one of two ways. You can pay. Attention, or I can Make you."

Adria nodded mutely.

"Good girl." The hand that was heavily stroking her hair lightened, just slightly. And the other, which had been crushing her wrists, loosened a bit. He abruptly shoved her away from him.

"And P.S. Angelcakes… I can see in the dark." He grinned. "Now eat, before I change my mind about feeding you."

Adria nodded.

"Say yes." He growled.

"Yes." She whimpered.

"Yes what, Muffin?" He giggled.

"Yes…sir?" She squeaked.

"Say it like you mea-n it."

"Yes, Sir." She said loudly.

"I'll decide if I believed that later." He sneered, before disappearing completely into the blackness.

Adria was left shaking with a sense of dread. How did he expect her to eat now? But, he was right… she would be sealing her own death warrant if she refused to eat for too long, and she had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't try too hard to force her to. After all, if she was a failed experiment, he could always find another girl to torture. So, with a resigned sigh, she returned to the bed and took to the meal, no matter how gingerly.