Hellooo!
I'm back with part nine! I hope you all are doing well and are healthy! I've been so busy at work as usual but I'm super excited for the plot development in this chapter, guys! Also J is just a charming bastard ajaskajdnmskjd!
AND this chapter STARTS OFF NSFW!
We're picking up where we left off! Were we goooo!
Warnings: dirty talk, edging, risk of falling/heights, rough sex
- Part Nine -
Your fingers curled to grip his green locks tightly in your fists, your back pushed hard against the cold concrete wall while he devoured your mouth with insatiable ferocity. His hands slid down your sides then over your ass to pull your hips into his, a growl coming from his chest as you felt his hardened length press against your belly through his pants.
Joker suddenly freed your mouth and your oxygen-starved lungs pulled in a deep breath while he turned to the door beside you, yanking it open. Then he took your wrist in his hand and hurried you through the door. The rush of night air against your skin sent a shiver down your back, your body's senses heightened by the adrenaline that mixed with your blood. After taking a few steps out onto the roof, he spun you around and pulled you against his chest, recapturing you and sliding his hands up your skirt. His cool leather gloves raised a wave of goosebumps up your thighs and you melted into his touch.
He stopped for a moment to bring one of his hands up to his mouth, biting down on the edge of a fingertip to pull the glove off with his teeth, then the other. You groaned and bit your bottom lip when his bare fingers pulled your panties down and lightly grazed your pussy. Your hips bucked toward his hand, your movements barely within your control as his simplest touches sent your heart racing. He hummed and brought his lips to your ear.
"Mmmm look at you. Someone's, ah, eager."
His teeth nipped at your ear lobe and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head. You had completely let go. It was like the past few days you'd spent wanting never happened. You were caught in his web again, drowning in the sensations that blinded you to anything that wasn't him. He pulled your shirt over your head and the click of a switchblade had barely reached your ears when the knife cut the strap of your bra. A gasp was the only sound you could make when your hardened nipples met the air and his hand at the small of your back pulled you closer while the other lightly gripped your neck, his thumb stroking your pulse. You were at his mercy, drunk off of his taste, his smell, his hands, his mouth. But that's exactly what you wanted. You craved this feeling of deliriousness, loss of control… submission. You wanted him to take control over you, to make you scream. He knew it too.
His breath hot on your face he purred, "That's my girl. Now tell me, how badly do you want me to fuck you, hm? How much d'you crave it?"
A shiver ran down your spine and you gripped his coat in your fists while you panted and tried to find your words, but they only tangled on your tongue.
"Can't hear you, doll," he growled, sliding his hand down from your neck to your breast to pinch your nipple between his fingers.
"Mmm! So badly! Please! Please, I need it!"
The words flew out of your mouth then his lips grazed your ear again, "What do you need?"
"I need you to fuck me!" you shouted.
"Mmm those are the mag-ic words," he purred before latching his mouth onto your neck, taking the skin between his teeth.
You sucked in a gasp and you felt his hand move to cup your breast, his thumb sliding over your nipple. Having his hands on you felt incredibly fulfilling. His callused fingers gliding over the soft skin of your tits. The more he touched you, the more you wanted and the more you got, the more you felt yourself melt for him. He seemed to like that, when you melted for him, so ready to feel him everywhere. Soon goosebumps rose up across your chest when his warmth moved away, allowing the cool air to reach your skin. You opened your eyes to see him hiking your skirt up to your hips and pulling your panties down before lifting you to sit on the cement ledge behind you. Then his large palms parted your legs and his face dove between them.
You tossed your head back and moaned while his tongue circled and flicked your clit, an intense pressure already forming in your core. Your noises grew louder, and your fists pulled on his hair when he hummed against you. His mouth pushed your mind further away from your body, jolts of pleasure making you squirm while his fingers dug into your thighs to keep you still. You were soon close to your release, tightening your hold on his hair, when he stopped.
Everything was very still for a moment. You breathed heavily and blinked your eyes open. Then you were suddenly pulled forward so that your pelvis hung over the edge toward him and your shoulders dipped backward, his grip tight on you. He watched you with an avid look on his face, his chest heavily rising and falling. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his cock brush up against your inner thigh. His hand slid down below the small of your back to hold you there while his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes captured yours as he braced you against his hold and suddenly thrusted into you.
A groan came from your open mouth, surrendering to your lascivious needs, until you realized that he was now the only thing keeping you from falling over the edge of the building. Your heart leapt out of your chest and your hands flew up to grab hold of his shoulders in a panic. But he remained perfectly still, watching you realize the danger you may be in from behind his dark and heavy eyelids. His grasp was strong, but your position on the wall was precarious. He hummed and pulled you a little closer, pushing himself deeper inside you. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the whine that escaped past it, and searched his face for some kind of reassurance. Anything that told you he wasn't going to let you fall. His gaze held you there, almost as firmly as his hands, while the tingles in your back reminded you that there was nothing behind it. Then he smirked and held you tight as he gradually began to thrust.
You wrapped your legs around him and gasped. There it was. Fear mingling with pleasure. You felt every inch of him inside you as he stretched you, your senses on high alert. He could drop you, whether it was on purpose or not.
"Joker… I… I could fall," you stammered, taking deep breaths and gripping his shoulders, trying to fight the increasing arousal that was quickly overshadowing your ability to reason.
He didn't stop. He only continued to roll his hips then said, "Mmm you could, couldn't you?"
Then he suddenly thrusted into you harder, deeper, holding it there and forcing out a moan while he squeezed you tighter. "Don't worry, doll. I won't drop ya," he purred into your ear.
A wave of heat traveled down your neck and to your core, compelling you to buck your hips toward him. Then you looked at his eyes. You always looked there, trying to see something. Maybe because they were the only thing he couldn't hide. He can't dye them green, paint over them, or layer them in a suit. But they still didn't tell you anything. They stared back at you, like he could see through you, defiant to any display of emotion. But this time, you did notice something. You saw a serene self-assuredness. The persona of extreme arrogance. He carried himself with bold determination, daring anyone to get in his way, just to show them how easily he can win. You always let him win. He got what he wanted from you – you wanting him. And you gave that to him without hesitation. But you loved giving yourself to him, letting him see how much you wanted to. The recklessness, it made you feel something so powerful.
You curled your lip between your teeth, then took deep breaths while you loosened your hold on his shoulders, leaning back to give him more room to move. His grin widened and he slowly lowered you down onto your back, your shoulders resting on the edge of the wall. You kept your legs wrapped around his waist tightly, not willing to let him hold your weight completely. Your heart raced when you felt nothing beneath your head, and you tried to hold it up while his hands slid down your sides to hold you by your waist. Your breaths were heavy, your bare chest rising and falling while he gazed at you. Then, your pelvis still connected to his, he rocked his hips forward, pushing right against your sensitive spot.
Joker hummed and did it again when you whined and grabbed on to his wrists. Another long, slow thrust. Then another. His fingers pressed hard into the flesh at your waist, his hold on you firm and steady. You panted and groaned, your fear not quite overtaken by your pleasure. They mixed together, feeding off of each other, each daring the other to raise the intensity. The more you released your own grip on him, the more you felt it. He growled and began to thrust harder when you let go of his wrists and allowed your head drop back, letting your gasps and moans pass freely out of your mouth.
An inverted view of the city skyline, twinkling with distant lights, met your eyes as you opened them. The sudden rush of the thrill of it took your breath away. You felt everything, every bit of pressure, every touch, every ounce of satisfying friction, all getting faster, harder. His bruising hold on you was the only thing keeping you from being thrusted over the ledge when you let your legs relax around his waist and he continued to pound into you. With each drive of his hips against you, you let yourself bask in it more, until your fingers clawed at the flat concrete surface and you cried out toward the sky. Your head hung out in the open air, gravity's pull toward the ground clouding your mind when your release crashed over you like a tidal wave. You never felt it coming, it erupted from your core and stiffened your body as endorphins ran rampant along your frazzled nerves. Then the sky suddenly spun over your head as you felt yourself being pulled up by your arms and the next thing you saw when you blinked your eyes was his face.
He grinned at you and said, "If I dropped ya, who would I fuck, hm?"
You didn't spend much longer on the roof. Before leading you down the stairs, he raised his eyebrows at your ruined bra then grabbed your shirt for you to cover yourself. You were still coming down from your peak as you followed him down the stairs, watching his purple coat sway with his steps. Then the realization of what you'd done slowly dawned on you. The trust you just put in him. You trusted him not to drop you and he didn't. He didn't and the thrill you got out of it hit you like a drug. He turned to look over his shoulder and caught you smiling to yourself.
"Mmm looks like your, uh, system reboot is almost finished. Are ya with me, sweet cheeks?"
You blinked and shook your head a little, your cheeks growing warm with a little embarrassment. "I, um… yeah. I guess blood rushed to my head."
Suddenly, at the bottom of the stairs, he twirled you around to back you up against the wall, leaning on his hand propped beside you.
"Ohh I know exactly where blood rushed," he chuckled, leaning in toward you as he spoke. "Ya know… you've been just a, ah, de-light this evening."
Butterflies twisted in your stomach and your cheeks burned hotter. Those simple worlds were having a surprising effect on you. The smallest praise triggered something in your mind that made you want to submit even more. The idea that you did well, that he actually got pleasure out of this too almost made your head feel like you were upside down again. It was a dangerous thing to feel, the need for more.
"I have?" you asked quietly.
His smile stretched his scars even further up his cheeks and he leaned in closer to purr in your ear, "Mmmm that's right, doll. You're gettin' good at this."
The warm tickle of his breath beside your ear triggered a cascade of goosebumps across your skin, down your back. He consumed you, breathed you in, getting high off of the luscious hormones that flowed off of you, that still flooded your body. Every time the fog began to clear, he always pulled you back under, his lips on your skin while you surrendered to the inebriation that welcomed you back with open arms. His hand slid over your breast, feeling you through the thin fabric of your shirt. His lips brushed over your pulse, almost blood thirsty. How much further were you willing to go?
Then he stepped away, taking the fog with him, that beguiling haze that never failed to provoke your most shameless impulses once it seeped into senses. It smelled like gasoline. Another door at the bottom of the stairwell opened and he held it for you. It led to a small access road behind the building, where little light could barely reach to cast a shadow.
There was a sleek black car waiting just past the doorway, red brake lights glowing brightly in the dark. You looked to Joker, still holding the door, and he gestured toward the car. "That car will pick you up again tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock."
You managed to pull yourself out of your daze, back to reality, or maybe this was all a dream, and you nodded. Blind trust. Before you moved to step out into the dark, Joker's hand took hold of your chin and turned your face toward him to catch you by your lips. You felt yourself falling into that thick fog, his mouth drawing you in, the taste of greasepaint on your tongue.
You took a breath when he gradually released you, licking your lingering flavor from his lips. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he nodded toward the waiting car. Pulling air into your lungs, you turned to walk through the door, feeling his eyes on your back as you approached the car. You paused and looked back over your shoulder after you opened the car door. His black rimmed eyes glinted at you, his red lips closing around a cigarette, and he disappeared behind the closing door.
You didn't speak to the man driving the car at all. But he knew where to take you. He never looked at you, keeping his eyes on the road. You wondered if it already had anything to do with the men Joker left to bled out from their groins on the floor of that room. It happened so fast, but you hadn't forgotten. You'd never seen something so violent, however quickly it passed before your eyes. You should feel something, right? Something powerful? Disgust? Shock? Something? All you could feel was the dull throbbing between your legs. Only blind trust.
Surprisingly, sleep came easily to you. Your head hit your pillow and it was like none of it happened. But your dreams reminded you that it did. Blood flooded the floor, you couldn't keep yourself from stepping in it. It was thick, sticky, and warm. You watched him walk steadily toward you, the red liquid splashing beneath his shoes and saturating the bottom of his pants. He didn't say anything yet, he just lifted your chin to look at you. The corner of his mouth twitched before he stuck out his tongue to lick along your lower lip and he leaned in to murmur in your ear, "Now we'll show 'em what you do to me."
Your eyes opened and your window came into focus, soft morning light filtering in through the blinds. You blinked and started to move your limbs, half expecting to feel tacky dried blood. But your skin glided smoothly between your sheets. Dreams are supposed to be a window into your subconscious, aren't they?
Sitting up in bed, you stopped as a feeling of unease poked at you for attention, like you'd forgotten something. Your dreamy daze was taking its time to release it's hold on you. Then it dawned on you. Eight o'clock. Joker said the car would pick you up at eight o'clock. You quickly sprung from your bed, wildly looking for your alarm clock, pulling back the sheets and moving your pillows. After finding it on the floor, you sighed with relief when its glowing red numbers read "7:08".
Thoughts of what happened last night instantly dissolved and a little prickle of anxiety followed you closely while you got ready. You couldn't get yourself to eat breakfast. You weren't sure what was in store for you today, but it more than likely involved that little favor you'd agreed to. It was unnerving, to say the least, to go into the police commissioner's office to find… saliva? Dwelling on it wasn't doing you any good but, you couldn't help it. What if you got caught? How would you explain yourself? Oh, the Joker asked me to get this for him. Sure, that'll go over great. But you couldn't say no. You didn't even want to say no. An enchanting feeling swelled in your chest whenever he flashed that insidious smile and gifted you a delicious drop of his honeyed praise. It was only getting stronger, more alluring. You craved it now.
Your thoughts carried you down the stairs and out of the front door of your building. It was almost eight o'clock. Funny how normal everything feels once you're still. Taxis and busses rolled past, carrying normal people, off to toil through their normal day. But for all you knew, they could have an equally strange secret to hide. They certainly couldn't know what you were up to, standing there waiting on the sidewalk. Unlikely. This still didn't feel real to you. You'd almost forgotten how this all happened in the first place by now. It made you feel an unusual sense of delight. The thrill of your nefarious dealings with a man who was undoubtedly after something big wasn't even close to wearing off.
Then the sight of the black car from last night made your heart pump faster while it pulled up to the curb in front of you and stopped. It was like you'd forgotten how to get into a car. You stood there for a moment until the passenger window rolled down and the man who'd driven you last night raised his brow at you. Your brain seemed to switch back on, and you yanked the door handle to climb into the back seat. Your quietly muttered apology was met with silence as the car continued on down the street.
You tried to control your ever-increasing level of anxiety as the passing buildings grew taller, metal and glass goliaths towering toward the sky. They made you feel so small. Downtown looked more intimidating than ever. Wait… downtown? You were supposed to see the commissioner now? Your head, heavy with swimming thoughts, dropped back against the head rest when you slouched back in the seat.
"Commissioner's office is on the fifth floor. Go there. Your meetin' with him starts at eight thirty. Boss set it all up."
The unexpected deep voice coming from the front seat startled you and you quickly sat up before he silently handed you a small plastic bag. "Did… he say anything else?"
The man's eyes shifted to the rearview mirror to look at you and he answered plainly, "Said you'd know what to do."
Before you could ask anything more, the car stopped in front of City Hall and he unlocked the doors before nodding toward the looming building. Even if your muddled brain could come up with anymore questions, they would undoubtedly go unanswered. You opened the door and made yourself step out on the concrete, looking up at the columns lining the entrance. Still staring at the vertigo-inducing architecture, you shut the door and the driver rolled down the passenger window.
"Fifth floor," he said from behind you.
You spun around, opening your mouth to ask him what you should do after that, but the car was already pulling away. You almost called out to him but didn't want to attract attention to yourself and swallowed your question before turning back toward City Hall. Your heart jumped into your throat when the realization that this was really happening hit you and you quickly reached for your burner phone to check the time. "8:24".
It's now or never. What do you have to lose? Not enough to stop you, apparently. You slipped the plastic bag into your pocket and wasted no time striding up the large stone steps, keeping your eyes on the ground as you passed the Grecian columns that made it feel more like you were preparing to meet Zeus himself. Strangely, it made you feel a bit better to remember that you weren't. You can do this. You've spent so many hours tending to Gotham's elite, this should be a walk in the park. Just flatter him, talk up the new shipment of tight weave luxury cotton you got in. You kept yourself calm as you passed through a set of metal detectors, avoiding making eye contact with the security guard, and entered the elevator to hit the button for the fifth floor. Then your thoughts inevitably turned to the reason you were here in the first place, sending your heart into your throat once again. How were you going to get this sample that Joker wanted? Raid his trash can? That would more than certainly arise suspicion.
Before you could dwell on it any longer, the elevator doors opened, and your feet carried you out into a hallway with a shiny tile floor inlaid with the Gotham City emblem. People walked quickly past you, clearly with more direction and focus than you could muster as you tried desperately to come up with any sort of plan with what precious minutes you had left before your meeting. You kept moving forward, it was all happening so fast but almost in slow motion too, as if you were dreaming.
"Do you have an appointment?" a voice in front of you asked.
The voice cut through your day dream like shards of glass, tearing away the heavy curtain over your eyes and you stammered to answer, "I, um, I think so."
The man at the desk in front of you blinked at you, waiting for you to say something else before asking, "Your name?"
"Oh! Right, sorry. Y/N… Eight thirty, um, meeting with the commissioner."
If someone asked you how you'd gotten from the sidewalk to where you stood right now, you wouldn't have been able to tell them. There was too much going on in your head, in your body, racing thoughts and a racing pulse.
"Ok, Y/N, wait here just a moment and the commissioner will be right with you," the man replied.
You nodded and began nervously fiddle with your sleeve when he turned to walk toward the back of the office. You scanned the room, searching for anything that might spark some sort of plan. The office was pristine. Gotham's city flag hung from a stand in the corner, surrounded by framed photographs and certificates on the wall, giving off an air of pageantry and self-importance. The desk in front of you was clean, with only a computer on it that faced away from you. The man had disappeared through the door behind it and soon you could hear muffled voices before it opened.
"Y/N, thank you for coming by on such short notice," a tall man in a nice suit stated, extending his hand out for you to shake.
You took his hand and answered quickly, "Um, yes, it's my pleasure, commissioner. Thank you for meeting with me."
His hand was so large, his palm overtaking your and fingers closing around your hand. You'd never seen what the police commissioner looked like before or even what his job entailed, much less know how you should talk to him. He nodded and waved you into his office to follow him, the door closing behind you by his assistant. Maybe you should just talk to him like any other customer.
"We're still ironing out the details, but this year's ball is going to benefit the Bruce Wayne foundation. I assume you may already know this?" he asked you, turning around to face you before leaning against his desk.
"Uh, yes! I did. I, um, have worked with Mr. Wayne before."
Of course, you had no idea about that but of all times to blow your cover, you didn't want it to be the very start of the meeting. He gestured for you to sit before moving around to the other side of his desk to lower himself into the cushioned leather chair.
"Well, I'd like to thank you for your offer. Its very generous of you to donate your time and your skillset. Our appearance for events like this is certainly important and something we take pride in. Did you have anything specific in mind?"
You tried to keep your eyes on him instead of letting them wander around the room. It was so difficult to focus on what he was saying. All you wanted was what you came there for… what Joker asked you for.
"Appearance is my specialty," you stated, finding your voice. "Um. I, well, I was hoping to get some guidance on that."
You managed to think on your feet, despite the tight hold your nerves still had over you. The commissioner took the bait and replied, "I'm sure we can work with you on that."
Then you noticed something, and your stomach did a flip. He used a handkerchief to quickly dab sweat from his forehead. Keeping your focus, you discussed some ideas as well as a date and time for taking measurements, but it felt like there was a clock that was watching you, relentlessly ticking, minutes passing by, time running out. You had to do something.
"You know, commissioner, I was wondering if you happen to have an example of the formal uniforms you currently use?"
You had to keep yourself from jumping out of your seat when it actually worked, and he excused himself to speak with his assistant to obtain one for you. You weren't sure how much time you had. Your heart pounded as you took the plastic bag from your pocket and pulled it over your hand to snatch the small square of fabric left on the desk, sealing the bag and stuffing it back in your pocket. Attempting to act casual, you sat down and tried to catch your breath until the unsettling feeling that you were likely to get caught came over you. You couldn't put it back, you needed it. What else would you bring back to Joker? Panic burned in your chest and you stood back up to see if you could find a replacement, looking frantically around on his desk while trying not to disturb anything. Then you heard voices. The door opened just after you practically threw yourself into your chair and the commissioner entered the office with a dress uniform jacket on a hanger.
"This is the most recent design. Feel free to take it with you," he said, walking around the desk and handing it to you.
"Thank you, commissioner."
Then he wrinkled his forehead and reached for where he'd left the handkerchief. You froze, holding your breath while he looked around the desk for a moment before patting his pockets. A weight was lifted off of your chest when he pulled another handkerchief from his jacket and used it. It was difficult not to smile as you fought the urge to get up and run out of the office with your unusual contraband.
"Well, I think that's all the time I have today, miss Y/N. Again, I do appreciate you coming by," he said, pocketing the handkerchief.
You let your smile appear and replied, "It was my pleasure, commissioner."
It felt like you could walk on air when you stepped back into the hallway. You'd done it and it brought a whole new thrill along with it. You couldn't guess what this item was for, but you didn't really care. It was yours now. It was your ticket to fulfil your self-indulgent need for his dulcet and bewitching approval. It was proof of how far you were willing to go, the things you'd do. You'd gone this far, but you still couldn't see the bottom of that rabbit hole. Taking steady steps back into the elevator, your thoughts cleared enough for you to remember that you never found out where you were supposed to go now.
The elevator doors opened onto the first floor and you wandered out into the atrium where you suddenly saw a face you recognized. It took a moment of watching him, but you knew who he was. Harvey Dent was walking quickly in your direction, passing by you to catch the elevator before the door closed. There likely wasn't a person in Gotham that wouldn't recognize him. His campaign for District Attorney resulted in his face being plastered just about everywhere. Leave it to Gotham for any average citizen to actually know or care about what the DA does.
You sighed and decided to stay put and wait there, what else could you do? You sat on a stone bench near the wall with the jacket on your lap and watched the crowd go by, your gaze growing more distant with the passing minutes. The inevitable tingle down your back made you shiver when your mind wandered where it always did lately. What he did to you was almost always lingering somewhere in your thoughts. More and more often, you let it. You let your thoughts focus on him. It seemed like it all happened so fast, you didn't even recognize how much you had let him turn your life upside down. You weren't even sure when you last opened the shop for business. There was no doubt that it wasn't the right thing to be doing at all, following through on this deal you'd made, but you didn't care to fight it. If that made you selfish, so be it.
In the corner of your eye, you saw a thin man that looked somewhat familiar come sit down next to you on the bench. A little burst of butterflies churned your stomach, but you slowly turned your head to look at him. He kept his eyes ahead, but it was obvious he was talking to you.
"I'm gonna get up in two minutes. When I do, wait thirty seconds, then check the time and follow me. Not too close."
You looked out in front of you, trying to mimic his subtlety. "Ok… is he here?" you asked, shifting your eyes back toward him.
He didn't answer you. He just checked his watch and gazed straight ahead. You moved your eyes away and swallowed thickly, your mouth growing dry while you nervously waited. Both of you sat in silence on the bench for what felt like an eternity, staring out over the bustling entryway. You stopped yourself from jumping up when he casually stood and started to walk away. An anxious pang in your chest quickened your breathing as you tried to steadily count to thirty, watching him intently, before moving your sleeve to check a watch you weren't wearing and standing up, carrying the uniform jacket over your arm. After scanning the crowd in a near panic, you saw him. Keeping a reasonable distance behind him, you followed.
He never answered you, about whether Joker was here. But he had to be. Where else would this guy be taking you? A thought occurred to you that he might not be one of Joker's men, but who else would he be? Questions continued to cycle through your head until you turned down a hall that suddenly had no other people. Your steps echoed off of the walls as you followed the man down another hall, where the shined floors gradually became scuffed and the smooth stone walls changed to white cinderblock. It looked like some kind of a maintenance access hall. He turned to you and waved for you to follow him closer now. You hurried to keep up close behind as he swiped a badge in the card reader next to a door and flung it open when the little light turned from red to green. Pipes lined the ceiling of the next room, the smell of oil and mildew in the air. Ladders were leaned against a wall and some of the pipes made soft hissing sounds. You followed to the other end of the room where the man pulled hard on the gate of an old elevator to force it open.
When he turned to see you watching, he pointed into the elevator car and said, "Hurry up."
Your eyes widened and you hesitated. He wanted you to go into that thing? Did it even work? You looked up and down at the rusted metal and dusty controls. The same thought occurred that was becoming common for you by now. Well, you've made it this far. The floor of the elevator groaned as your feet carefully stepped inside, and the gate screeched closed behind you. He pressed a button on a panel, and you jumped when the contraption came to life with a loud clang before starting to steadily rise up, the dim light in the room disappearing below your feet.
You kept a tight grip on the rail running along the wall, your arms trembling until the dark elevator shaft came to a rickety stop and a set of doors opened. Daylight stung your eyes and you squinted, bringing your hand up to shield your face. Without a second thought, you rushed out past the doors and into the light. When you blinked the spots out of your vision, a familiar red smile greeted you.
"Ahhh there she is! Hellooo, doll," Joker purred.
Your heart jumped into your throat and you froze with eyes wide open, focused on him as he strolled toward you.
His voice dropped low as he captured you in his gaze and asked, "D'you have a little pre-sent for me?"
You couldn't keep your hand from shaking as you reached into your pocket. What if this wasn't good enough? Did he need something better? Self-doubt didn't rear its ugly head until you were here standing in front of him. Too late now. You pulled the plastic bag containing the handkerchief from your pocket and showed it to him. He looked down at it and a devilish smile crept onto his face, setting off a rush of butterflies in your belly.
"Did you touch it?" he asked.
When you shook your head, his grin grew wider. "Excellent."
Your body tingled all over and that friendly warmth you knew so well heated up your cheeks and neck before he motioned for you to follow him. There was a group of men up on the roof with him. They were standing around a bulky object covered in black plastic. Wait, why were you up here?
Joker pulled the plastic off and you yelped when you saw what looked like a dead Batman. It was the body of a man, but he didn't look like batman, he was just dressed like him. The lower half of his face was smeared with the same paint Joker wore, a red smile painted over his stiffened mouth. Once the initial shock faded, the smell reached your nose. You held back the gag that tugged at your throat and Joker took the small bag from your hands. Then he silently crouched down beside the body and took another bag from his pocket.
He cleaned his gloves with something then took what looked like a small piece of paper out of the other bag. You strained to look closer, without getting too close to the body. It was a Joker card. After holding out carefully, he lowered it into the bag with the handkerchief, swiping its surface over the fabric. A chuckled rumbled in his chest as he stuck a pin through the card and attached it to the vest on the body. Your expression twisted with confusion and he simply grinned at you.
"WILL THE REAL BATMAN PLEASE STAND UP?" had been typed on the card's surface.
You sucked in a breath, your mind running in circles. What does that mean? Bits of what you'd overheard at the mob meeting echoed in your ears. Kill the Batman.
The men moved quickly to secure a rope tied into a noose around the body's neck and you took several steps back, your blood rushing even faster when you watched them heave the body over the side of the building.
"Let the games begin," Joker grinned.