Once again I don't own anything but my OCs

Sorry it took awhile! Thanks to everyone who follows, started to follow, and reviewed!

Last thing, please give this chapter a break. It's a bit of a filler and even though I spent a good bit of time putting it together, I still feel like it got away from me.

Thanks!

Chapter 7:

The night had been a whirlwind of emotions for Emily. She almost felt high as she was dropped off in front of Jim's house, she had walked in on wobbly legs with a grin stretched so wide her cheeks were sore. There was something exciting about being in the Joker's presence, the man personified danger and it was like a magnet. He would be the perfect fix for an adrenaline junkie.

When she walked further into the house, she noticed the living room light shining into the hallway. She continued on, pausing in the entry way of the room only to find Jim asleep on the couch. She realized that he must have tried waiting up for her and her cheek splitting grin softened into a sentimental smile as she acknowledged his gesture. The sound of a car door slamming shut caused reality to come crashing down and it was like someone splashed a bucket of cold water in her face. The events replayed in her mind but this time the rose-tinted glasses were off.

Shit could have hit the fan with the stunt that she pulled. She had caught J in a good mood as far as she was concerned but that was just with sheer luck. She was thrown into the lion's den. Only now did she appreciate that she was allowed to leave the den. He had touched her, she had let him and some sick thrill was the result of his actions. Never before had she condoned a man touching her like that out of nowhere, she had punched a mob goon for grabbing her ass! She came home as if she had just ended a night of fun with her friends! She left that SUV sans freedom. She was spoken for now and it took several minutes before the severity of the night sunk in.

Jim tossed onto his side and the movement spurred Emily into action. She quickly made her way to the bathroom to get ready for bed and she hoped that she could get through her routine without Jim waking up. He would instantly know something was up and she couldn't handle the inquisition without cracking.

Once she was finally in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin did she beg for sleep to come quickly. Not only was she mentally and emotionally drained but also physically. Her stomach felt like it was full of cement, the rest of her body wound tight. The ups and downs that J created were taxing and she wished that she had heeded Craig's advice from earlier.

As her eyes grew heavy and her breathing started to even out, she found herself thinking about what she was going to wear for their "date." Date, she internally scoffed at herself. A small frown wormed its way onto her face and just before she fell asleep she scolded herself. What the fuck is wrong with me?

xXxXxXxXxXx

It was a quarter to ten and Emily was mindlessly drumming her nails against the kitchen table while holding a glass of merlot in her other hand. She had been a bundle of nerves all day while she was trying to analyze her fucked up self. It wasn't until Jim left for work when she finally came out of her room feeling as if she were hung over. She moped about most of the day and at some point in the afternoon she received a text from an unknown number. All it said was 10p.m. so she figured that was the pickup time, or at least that's what she assumed. After that, she spent a few minutes on a story to tell Jim in case he was home when she left. She somewhat remembered him mentioning going out with friends after work but she couldn't be a hundred percent positive.

After she came up with a cover story, she spent the next few hours trying to figure out how she could possibly get out of this arrangement. She doubted that J would accept an excuse such as being sick, even though she was sick. How, she wasn't sure. Mentally sick, physically sick, maybe a mixture of both. Mostly just mental, she had thought to herself when she found herself standing in front of the closet looking at outfits. It wasn't like she had a huge selection of clothes to choose from and she had no idea where they were going so when he said "pretty" it still had left her in the dark. He would just have to be happy with whatever she picked out, she put her foot down when the idea of texting the unknown number popped into her head.

She had chosen a thin strapped black dress with a neckline that was cut low enough to provide and show ample cleavage. It had a scooped back and hit mid-thigh, hugging her curves tastefully. It wasn't slutty but was club worthy, or at least that was her opinion. She had added some silver jewelry to accent the dress but she kept it simple. She let her hair go natural, the beach waves were good enough so that was one thing that she didn't have to obsess over. No, her time was spent on creating a plan of attack for her make-up. In the end she had chosen to do a smoky eye made up of neutral colors, highlighting it with eyeliner and a heavy dose of mascara. Her lips were painted a deep plum and after making sure that her blush was spread evenly, she was finally satisfied.

So at 9:45p.m. she sat all done up at the kitchen table sipping on her liquid courage with no clue as to where tonight would go. She snorted at the idea of J giving her flowers and taking her out to a nice quiet dinner. She shook her head at the image she had conjured in her mind, an image of them sitting at a quaint bistro, candles lit, and soft music playing in the background. The absurdity of it all made her chuckle, like J could ever go out in a nice part of town and have a normal date.

"Jesus Christ Emily," she muttered to herself. "Why in the ever-living-fuck are you even thinking about this? So fucking ridiculous," she mumbled out loud again. It was now 9:55p.m. and her nerves were starting to tingle. "You got this, this is a power move. You can take that power back...I don't know how but you can. Yea, get your shit together. You're a tough chick and can handle what life has thrown at you, you always have," she finished with a sigh. Her pep-talk filled the silence in the room and calmed her down, only a slight fraction but she would take it regardless.

The vibrations of her phone caused her heart rate to spike and she began to chew on her lip once again as she opened the text message. Let's go. Emily stood up with a sigh, grabbed her wristlet, and made her way outside. She pulled her shoulders back as she made her way to the familiar SUV and hopped in backseat, an empty backseat. She glanced up front and made eye contact with Frost in the rearview mirror. She raised her eyebrow, questioning the lack of Joker.

He gave a shrug and directed his gaze forward as he started to drive. "Boss had some stuff to finish up, says he's sorry he couldn't pick you up."

Emily snorted and rolled her eyes in reply. So full of shit, she thought to herself. "I'm sure," she replied while she got comfortable. No more was said between the two and Emily found comfort in that silence. It allowed her to calm her racing thoughts and prep herself for whatever the night might bring.

They arrived at the club, another one that he owned which wasn't really a surprise, quicker than she expected. She followed Frost through a back door and down a hallway, her nerves vibrating as they got closer to a door at the end of the hallway. Frost gave a quick knock before opening the door and escorting Emily into the room, an empty room. "Are you serious," she asked irritably but when she turned around Frost was nowhere to be seen so she stood alone surveying the room. It was cleanly decorated. Black carpets and grey walls with abstract art gracing strategically placed. There was a pool table in one corner and what looked like a fully stocked mini bar at the other end of the room. She walked up to the back of the large leather couch and ran her hand over the material. She then noticed the wall that the couch was facing and she realized that she could see out into the crowd. The bar in the club must have been positioned in front of the window, she could see people sitting out there waiting for their drinks and beyond them, people dancing to music that she was unable to hear. She stepped closer to the wall and gently placed her hand on the glass, getting lost in her thoughts while she felt the vibrations of the music.

"They can't see you," a familiar voice resonated from behind.

She spun around, proud of herself that she didn't scream and he almost looked slightly disappointed. "Stop doing that," she ground out.

"Looks like I'll have to wait 'til later to hear you scream," he stated, disregarding her request. He watched as her eyes followed his every move as he moved next to her. Starting at her feet, his eyes roamed up her bare, nicely toned legs, over her cleavage and stopped when their eyes met. He hummed in approval. "Well sweets, I said pretty and you didn't disappoint."

Her ego did a happy dance and she mentally scolded herself. His opinion on her appearance shouldn't mean anything. "So," she began, "what's the plan?" She tossed her wristlet onto the couch and placed her hands on her hips. Keep the ball in your court.

"Plan? I say we roll with the punches and see where the night takes us," he responded. He clapped his hands together and began walking over to the bar. "How about a drink." It was a statement, not a question so she figured she had no choice but to accept. She followed him over and asked for a jack and coke while she eyed up the pool table. "Care to play a game? Let's make a bet. Person who loses owes the other a favor." His grin was downright evil.

She made sure to keep her smile on the inside. What a dick. He clearly thought he would have the upper hand but she was actually pretty good and could probably give him a run for his money. She was confident that there was a chance that he'd owe her a favor, not like he would keep his side of the bargain but it would be one more move to keep the ball in her court. So she did what any girl would do when trying to boost a man's ego, she played dumb. "Do I have a choice? I've only played a few times," she let her voice drop off pretending to be nervous.

"Perfect," he laughed. "Let's play." He placed her drink in her hand guided her to the table.

"You can go first," she hedged, pretending that she couldn't break first. She listened to him laugh and watched as he positioned himself at the end of the table. She couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked right then and there. He was oozing confidence, much like always but there was something about him tonight, like he had a trick up his sleeve and he couldn't wait to boast about it. His green hair glowed underneath the light hanging over the table and he almost looked like an apparition. The sudden cracking noise from the balls hitting off of each other shook her from her thoughts. She took note that he had sunk three stripes before messing up. She took her time picking a cue stick, once again feigning ignorance before taking her spot at the table. It just so happened that he was standing right next to her for her first shot which she easily sunk. He watched as she straightened up and gave him a big smile. "Lucky shot," she said with a wink.

xxxxxxx

The game went on and it had come down to the last shot. They had kept up with each other and if he made this shot he'd win. Once again, she noted how attractive he was when he focused in on something so intensely. It seemed like no matter what he did tonight it emphasized everything about his being. She held her breath when he made his move. Her eyes followed the ball and she watched as it knocked the eight ball closer to the left corner pocket. It hit the corner in an awkward way and the ball stopped short of the pocket and she internally squealed.

"Good try J," she patronized. She wasn't sure why but she decided to be extra in the moment. She slowly bent over to line up her stick, making sure that her cleavage was on display. He was clearly irritated that he hadn't made his shot, that much was obvious from his stance; base of the stick planted on the floor, hands placed on the end of it with his chin resting on his hands, eyes squinted and his lips in a straight line. She gave a wink, called the pocket and stood with a smile as the eight ball fell in easily. "Well J," she started proudly, "I'll let you know when I need that favor."

He stood up and tossed his stick on the table before slowly cracking his neck. A small part of her began to think that maybe being cheeky wasn't the way to act at the moment. Her hand tightened around the stick as he stalked closer, not like it would do a whole lot but at least it could give her a chance.

"Look at you sweets, wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve," he chuckled, alleviating some of her nerves.

She looked up at him with her own smile. "I can't have you winning all the time."

"So!" He exclaimed with a clap of his hands. The sudden outburst caused Emily to flinch which gave Joker great joy. "I'm gonna get you another drink and then I say it's time for me to get to know you better."

Emily laughed at him as he walked back over to the bar. Not only for the fact that there wasn't much to share about herself but at how normal he sounded. She preferred his manic states, hell even his irate states, she found those to be the normal that she was getting used to.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Emily had knocked back her third drink and she was starting to feel a solid buzz. Then again, the third drink he had made her was probably more jack than coke. She watched him as she answered his questions, he was ever so attentive. Like he was storing every word she said in the back of his head but laying below his attentiveness there was an underlying restlessness.

"J," she said cutting him off while she placed her glass on the coffee table. "You seem bored." All she got was a calculating stare as he leaned back into the couch. His lack of response pissed her off and she wasn't even sure why. She should have been happy that everything was going smoothly, but for some reason the normality didn't sit right. The idea that she wanted more chaos pulled her from her thoughts. That's not good. The fuck is wrong with me? She shook her head, grabbed her purse and stood.

"Where do you think you're going," he asked evenly.

"Home. You're bored and now I'm bored." Just make your way to the door, she thought to herself. Stay calm, cool, and collected. You got this. She was surprised that she managed to get as far as she did but before she could open the door all the way a pale hand whizzed by and slammed it shut. She turned and met his gaze refusing to shrink away. "You said we'd have fun and we're clearly not at the moment so will you please let me leave?"

His cackle filled the room. "Ohhhhhhh sweets, you don't disappoint!" He placed both hands on the sides of her face. "I was hoping you'd say that. You get an A+!"

A test? What the fuck? She tried to formulate a sharp response but their noses were touching and his eyes were sucking her in.

"You ready to have some fun," he whispered. She nodded her head with no hesitation. "Then let's go have some fun," he growled in delight. The next thing she knew, he was pulling her along and she found herself back in the SUV sitting shotgun next to Joker. And though she was sitting next to the most dangerous man in town, she was excited.