(Wow, Readers. Just… wow. You told me what you wanted and you guys really wanted Amber and the Joker to become a thing. So, that will gradually happen, don't expect immediate results, though. By the way, what would their ship name be? Now we get to see how Amber reacts to seeing the Joker at Chelsea's party….)

[Song Suggestions for this Chapter: 'You Don't Own Me' by Lesley Gore, 'Get This Party Started' by P!nk, 'Food, Glorious Food' from Oliver; the Musical, 'Partyman' by Prince, 'Latch (Acoustic)' by Sam Smith, 'Trumpets' by Jason Derulo, and 'Good Time' by Owl City and Caly Rae Jepsen.

*Listen to 'Latch (Acoustic)' when Amber and the Joker are sitting on the floor and talking to each other. Yes, I am well aware how cheesy this song will make the scene, but I'm the author!]

Chapter Twenty-Three

House Party (Part II)

March 9th, 2013

Joan and Gatsby had just begun to wonder about her absence when Amber returned to the cafeteria. She mumbled some excuse about the stubbornness of glitter and asked if they were ready for the patients.

"Ready if you are," Joan replied.

Amber didn't feel ready, but she radioed the guards and gave them the go ahead to bring in her charges.

"You don't own meee,

I'm not just one of your many toys,

You don't own meee,

Don't say I can't go with other boys…"

Gah, that song was going to be stuck in her head all day! Well, there was a simple way to remedy that. Amber had gotten Dr. Arkham's approval to play music for the party. "Just as long as it's appropriate," he'd advised her.

"IIIII'm coming up so you better get this party started!"

"Yesssss, tunes!" Chelsea cheered, walking and dancing in time to P!nk. Amber gave her a distracted smile as she passed by.

Joan noticed the change in Amber's attitude and sidled up to her as the patients were being gathered to sit at some preset chairs for a quick congratulatory speech from Chelsea's psychiatrist. As the psychiatrist was speaking, Joan lowered her voice and whispered to Amber, "Where'd all that enthusiasm go?"

Down the drain.

Amber lightly sighed and fiddled with the claddagh ring she'd recently taken to wearing on her right hand around the end of January. Due to her family's Irish ancestry, she'd wanted a claddagh ring for years and had secretly hoped that maybe a guy would give one to her in the future, but as time had gone by Amber decided she'd rather go ahead and get one herself. Why wait? She figured it would be a great conversation piece, but then discovered the ignorance of men when on more than one occasion a man had complimented her on her 'wedding ring'.

It's not even on the correct hand!

The Joker had known what it was and even told her she was wearing it backwards once. She'd removed the ring to keep it from getting dirty when she'd participated in the group's particularly hands-on art therapy session with Gatsby. When she'd washed her hands and absent-mindedly put the ring back on, the Joker had glanced over and casually said, "Got that claddagh on backwards, sweetheart." Amber was so surprised at him that she hadn't even responded as she turned the ring so that the hands and heart design faced out; an open heart. She had her suspicions that the Joker might have some Irish in his blood as well; just some things about him she'd noticed that fit with someone of Irish ancestry. She never got around to asking him.

"Amber?" Joan whispered.

"Hm?"

"What's going on with you?"

Amber shook herself and tried to drag her mind back to the present, but the Joker's words kept echoing in her mind.

"Well, she belongs to me more than she does to any of the others."

"- if you take mynurse away, you'll have me to answer to".

She couldn't let Joan known the real reason she was so distracted. "It's uh, it's about Dr. Fitz."

"I thought you were overjoyed that he's gone?" Joan asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I am," Amber insisted. "It's just that... I found out that Dr. Fitz interviewed my charges about me before he left."

"He did what now?" Joan hissed. She caught a couple of glances aimed in their direction. "Let's move this discussion towards the food table. We can finish setting out the condiments. We had a heck of a time getting those things past the Condiment King this morning."

Amber was assigned squirting ketchup into tiny paper cups for the patients while Joan did the same with the mustard.

"Why was he asking your charges about you? What kind of questions?"

Amber shrugged. "All I know is that he wanted information about my relationship with them. I think they believed he was going to try to take me away from Arkham."

Joan flicked her brown gaze to briefly meet Amber's green eyes. "Just where did you get this information?"

"Uuuum…." Amber supplied her with a nervous smile. "The Information Fairy?"

Joan narrowed her eyes at her but didn't push. "I'm not gonna pursue that this time, Amber Johnson, but don't think I'm gonna forget that you actually just tried using 'the Information Fairy' as a legitimate answer."

Amber cringed. "I know, I know. I realized how lame it was after I said it."

"Not before?" Joan asked, feigning shock.

"Well, forgive me if my bad excuse radar is malfunctioning," Amber bit back.

Both of Joan's eyebrows rose high. "Whoaaa, listen to that sass."

Amber winced and set down the ketchup. "Sorry, Joan." She sat, elbows on the table and head in her hands. "I'm just really stressed out about this." She rubbed her eyes and let one hand rest on the table, the other balancing her chin on her palm.

Joan capped and put aside the mustard before sitting down next to Amber. "Does Fitz really have you that riled up? I mean, he's not exactly on my list of favorite people but he doesn't set my teeth on edge…yet."

Amber clenched her free hand. "He's a slime ball; a sleazy slime ball. Dr. Bernard Fitz thinks he can smile and talk his way into everything, but he hasn't met me yet."

"Actually, he has."

"You know what I mean," Amber snapped then went back to brooding. Now that she had brought him up, her mind was gradually beginning to focus on Fitz instead of her real problem. "He's not perfect, faaar from it! Just once I'd like to be there when he makes a mistake. He'd hate that! Well one day that time will come and when it does, I'll pounce!" To punctuate her words, Amber's fist banged onto the table, right on top of a paper cup full of ketchup. It splattered all over the front of Amber's red scrubs. And of course, the red of the ketchup didn't match the bright red of her scrubs.

Typical.

Joan quietly handed Amber a napkin and patted her on the head. "There, there," she soothed.

"Thanks," Amber squeaked. A glop of ketchup fell from her cheek. Just as Amber had finished cleaning herself up, Chelsea's psychologist wrapped up his speech and a polite applause followed.

"That's our cue," Joan said.

Amber looked up from the stain on her shirt. She glanced among the patients seated together and felt her eyes linger on the Joker. He sat with his arms draped on the backs of the chairs beside him, one long leg crossed on top of his knee. Harley Quinn was seated at his left. She had her head lying on his shoulder and, surprisingly, he didn't seem annoyed about it. His own head leaned towards hers ever so slightly, like he was considering resting his head there but wasn't fully committed to the act.

As if sensing her gaze, the Joker craned his neck around and caught Amber's eye. He grinned at her and she quickly looked away. The Joker's brow furrowed but he turned his attention back to the front. "All right," the psychiatrist said, "since we've talked long enough about Chelsea's progress, we're going to shut up now –."

"Wishes do come true!" Katherine cheered.

"– and let you get to the food."

"Food, glorious food!" Katelynn 2 sang out, leaping from her chair. Moving to a beat only she could hear, she made her way, marching band style, towards the table. "We're anxious to try it/ Three banquets a day/ Our favorite diet!" She continued until she was right in front of Amber, who was filling up the last three paper cups with ketchup. "Just picture a great big steak/ Fried, roasted, or stewed!" Katelynn 2 spread her arms wide and waited for Amber to finish…but she didn't.

"Ahem!" Katelynn 2 sounded, a bit miffed.

"What?" Amber asked distractedly. Her eyes came to focus on the teenage girl before her.

Katelynn 2 huffed and repeated. "Just picture a great big steak/ Fried, roasted, or stewed!"

"Oh," Amber said, not making the connection yet. Katelynn 2 pouted at her and it clicked. "Oh! Uh – 'Oh food! Wonderful food! /Marvelous food! Glorious food'!"

Katelynn 2 sniffed and haughtily lifted her head. "Not bad. Bit late on the delivery but, meh." She turned on her heel and marched away towards the peanut dish at the far end of the table.

A snicker from behind made Amber's back go stiff. "Oooh, looks like you made her angry," the Joker said.

Amber looked down, concentrating on the cups. "She'll get over it."

The Joker's head tilted to the side. "That's a bit callous coming from you."

Amber bit her lower lip, unintentionally drawing the Joker's eye to her mouth for an instant. "I didn't mean for it to." There were no more cups to fill. What was she supposed to do to keep from looking at him?! Ah! Plates! The paper plates needed to be set out! "I gotta – uh – plates!" Amber walked around him and towards the plates. Seizing a plastic bag of the plates, she opened it up with more force than necessary which resulted in a good portion ending up on the floor. "Dang it," Amber hissed.

The Joker sauntered up, tsking at her. "Someone's jittery today." He knelt down to help pick up the plates.

"Am not," Amber replied too quickly. The Joker gave her a patronizing smile. She licked her lips, mentally searching for a believable excuse. "I just heard some really good news is all and I'm distracted, that's all."

They stood and dumped the plates onto a separate table from the clean ones. "Well do share," the Joker coaxed, a mischievous grin working onto his face.

"Dr. Fitz is gone," she told him, stepping back so that she could look over the table settings for the fifth time. When the Joker didn't respond with a gleeful anything, Amber looked up and found him gaping at the stains on her scrubs. She was a bit confused as to why the Joker was staring at them so intently though, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. When his gaze finally slid up to meet hers, a sly grin worked its way along his scarred mouth. Amber's eyebrows rose, wary of what could cause such a smile.

"Amber, pumpkin," he purred. "Did you kill Brittney?" His tone was like someone hardly daring to hope but already excited at the thought.

Her green eyes went wide with shock and indignation. "What the – why would you even think that!"

The Joker's brow furrowed with confusion. "But you said Fitzy was…" He pointed at her scrubs. "And the stains…" A grunt of frustration escaped him as he held his hands palms up. "Wha?"

"Stains?" Amber repeated and glanced down at her uniform. "What do the stains have anything to do with…?" It clicked in her brain. She narrowed her eyes and put both hands on her hips. "Oh, now really!"

The Joker leaned against the wall, arms folded and a sullen expression on his face. "I thought that maybe you'd done something nice for me, that's all."

"You call that nice?"

He smirked. "Honestly, Amber, am I still able to shock you?"

"Nurse Amber," she reminded him.

He licked his lips and cocked his head at her. "Hm. You haven't corrected me in a while. I thought we'd gotten past that."

"You –," Amber bit her lip, catching the sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. "We haven't," she said firmly and looked away. She couldn't look at him for too long without fidgeting. Searching for an escape, she grabbed a packet of napkins and set about trying to open it.

The Joker pursed his lips and used both shoulders to push off the wall. Something was bothering Amber, she seemed shaken. A tell-tale tick the Joker had picked up about Amber was that she bite her lower lip when she was nervous. This is precisely what she was doing at that moment. He found it equal parts distracting and … mmmmh. That little habit was going to get her in trouble someday.

"Nurse Johnson," Lyle Bolton's harsh voice called.

The Joker craned his neck around to see Bolton holding a fuming Katlyn 1 by the back of her shirt. Her arms were folded and her legs drawn in but even if fully extended, Katlyn 1's feet still would have dangled several inches off the floor. The girl looked absolutely miffed at Bolton, refusing to acknowledge him. Bolton lifted her higher for Amber to see, his arm remaining steady and unbelievably not wavering from the girl's weight.

Geez, the man's a rock troll, the Joker thought.

"I found this one absconding with some art supplies under the lunch tables," Bolton's clip tone informed.

"I was doing no such thing!" the little munchkin protested. "I was just being sneaky about where I hid them!"

A smile that was a mixture of fondness, amusement and bewilderment settled on Amber's features. It was a smile that the Joker had come to realize was reserved for her charges.

"Katlyn, 'absconded' means 'sneaky'," Amber explained.

"Oh…Oh, then yeah. Yeah, I was," Munchkin sniffed and lifted her nose haughtily away from Bolton. The hulking man sneered at her but since she wasn't deigning to look at him the intimidation effect was wasted.

Amber pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh. She approached Bolton and allowed herself a small chuckle as she said, "Okay, I'll handle this, Bolton. Set her down."

The rock of a man gave her a disapproving lift of his chin but set Katlyn 1 down. "I'll be around if you need me," he told the young nurse assistant.

Amber placed a hand on Katlyn 1's shoulder and ever so slightly pulled the girl towards her, away from Bolton's reach. The Head of Security may not have noticed it, but the Joker certainly had. "Thanks," Amber said, giving Bolton a stiff smile.

Well, well, well, the Joker thought. Has she gotten wise to Bolton?

The man's steely eyes landed on the clown and remained there for several seconds. "Yeah, I know I'm pretty, Bolton, but please try to control yourself. Show some dignity, man!" the Joker said with a dramatic sigh. Bolton ground his teeth and went way, grumbling darkly. "Don't pine over me too much, darling!" the Joker called. Bolton's shoulders drew up to his ears but to the man's credit he didn't turn around. The Joker, snickering to himself, returned his attention to Amber and the Munchkin.

"I was promised piñatas," Katlyn 1 told Nurse Amber.

"What?"

"Piñatas," she repeated. "They're made of papier-mâché, usually shaped like animals and filled with sweet goodies."

"I know what piñatas are, Katlyn."

"Then act like it."

Amber risked making eye contact with the Joker just for the relief of being able to share a deadpanned expression of exasperation with another individual. The corner of his mouth quirked up in an amused smirk. She returned her attention to Katlyn 1. "Who told you there would be piñatas?" An accusatory finger was pointed at the Joker. The clown suddenly found the ceiling an interesting study and whistled a jaunty tune. "Of course," Amber mumbled, rubbing her temple.

"Sooo, you snuck away to the art room, stole some supplies –."

"Borrowed."

"Stole."

"Borrowed!"

"Katlyn, once the supplies are used up you can't return them."

"…No comment."

"You stole the supplies, brought them here and tried to make your own piñata?"

"Yeah, but then icky Bolton had to spoil my fun," Katlyn 1 moped.

"What were you going to use for goodies?"

Katlyn 1 shrugged. "Heck if I know. I just like busting those suckers open, I don't much care for their insides."

Amber took it all in stride. "Wow, somehow you just managed to make that sound a little creepy." She patted Katlyn 1 on the head and gave her a gentle push towards the group. "Why don't you go join the others, 'kay?"

"Okay!" Katlyn 1 chirped and skipped merrily away. About halfway she turned back to Amber. "Will we still get a piñata?"

Chelsea overheard her and a hopeful smile lit up her face. "Piñata?"

Amber closed her mouth on the 'no' that had been about to escape. "Um, we don't really have a piñata –."

An arm fell onto her shoulders and she was drawn in against a solid chest. "But Nurse Amber and I were about to finish making one," the Joker interjected with a gut twisting grin stretching his lips.

Chelsea's face brightened. "This party just keeps getting better and better!"

As the opening bars to Prince's song 'Partyman' began to play, Amber slowly turned her head to look at the Joker, her mouth forming a thin line. "Get. Your arm. Off. Of me," she hissed through clenched teeth.

He reached out and lightly tapped the tip of her nose. "Oh lighten up, peaches, it'll be fun."

"Oh she's a peach…"

Amber clenched her jaw and inhaled deeply. "I will rip off that arm," she whispered. The Joker rolled his eyes and let his arm drop from her shoulders. "Thank you. Now help me get the supplies from under the table so we can build a freakin' piñata."

"As you wish, my lady," the Joker teased, adding a dramatically elegant bow at the waist. Amber heaved a sigh and headed for the table that Katlyn 1 had squirreled away the supplies.

Gatsby had graciously unlocked the art room for them. Two guards were stationed outside of the art room while two more were inside with Amber and the Joker. She'd barely managed to convince Bolton to stay with the party group by telling him that his skills would be needed if the group got rambunctious. Bolton reluctantly agreed, but the glare he sent towards the Joker made Amber uneasy. The Head of Arkham Security seemed to have it in for the Joker. Not exactly surprising since the Joker had escaped from the asylum countless times and no one could predict how he'd manage to do it the next time. Doubtless this made Bolton see the Joker as his number one problem.

Over the past couple of months, Amber had heard some rather disturbing things about the lengths Bolton would go to keep the patients in line. She hadn't exactly seen anything yet that outright alarmed her, but the rumors were too many to be ignored as gossip. She'd once confronted him about how roughly he handled the patients when he had to physically step in. The sharp response she got from him sent mental red flags waving. Ever since then, Bolton would eye her as if daring Amber to confront him again. She began to carefully question other employees who worked with Bolton on a regular basis. The answers, though vague and never an outright confirmation, did nothing to ease her mind. Bottom line, Amber no longer trusted Bolton with her safety or with the well-being of her charges.

"I think that paper's got enough glue, sweetheart."

Amber flinched. "Huh?"

The Joker pointedly looked at the bowl of liquid glue. Her fingers had completely submerged the scrap of paper she held.

"Oh."

She quickly withdrew the paper only to have a mushy glob tear itself in two. The Joker giggled. "Got your head in the clouds, sweetheart?"

"Actually, I was wondering why you would concern yourself with this piñata," Amber lied. Well, not exactly. It had been in the back of her mind. He'd surprised Amber by immersing himself in the project. It had her on alert; however there were times when she noticed that the Joker actually displayed some very artistic tendencies. He had talent except for some reason he preferred to downplay that side of his abilities unless it suited him.

The Joker smoothed a long strip of paper on the giant ball-shaped piñata in the making. Amber's attention was drawn to his hands. They were smudged from crafting but it did nothing to hide the long, slender digits.

Dang, he really has nice hands…Oh heck no; I did not just think that!

"Maybe I want to give the mouse a good farewell party? Maybe I didn't want her to be disappointed that there wouldn't be a piñata?"

"Ooor maybe you just wanted to see what sort of chaos could be created when a group of Arkham's finest are blind-folded and given a stick to whack a target with?"

The Joker gave her a sly wink. "There's that too." He erupted into giggles.

Amber shook her head, not at all surprised. She dipped another piece of paper into the glue and carefully applied it to the piñata. She made sure to stand as far from the Joker as possible. To her misfortune, he noticed. Pausing in his work, the Joker's features scrunched up as he asked, "Amber, sweetheart, what's going on?" His tone astonished her. He sounded genuinely curious and a tad bit concerned.

Amber furtively stepped around the table, back to the scraps of paper and bowl of glue. She took her time picking the next piece. "Nothing's going on," she said.

"You've been acting like I have cooties." His voice went an octave higher and a child-like pout appeared. "I pwomise I don't have 'em."

Amber shook her head, ignoring him. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Oh yes you have."

"No I haaaveeen't," Amber sing-songed, still not making eye-contact.

She turned to apply a scrap of sticky paper to the piñata and an arm shot out to block her path. The Joker's palm slapped against the wall and he gave her devious smile. "Yes you aaare," he sang back. Amber remained very still, the paper going tacky in her hand, as the Joker lazily leaned his weight on the arm supporting him. "Come ooon, Amberrrr. You can tell me."

She swallowed hard and eyed the lean muscles of his outstretched arm. Good lord! Has he always been muscled? Niiice. I wonder what he looks like shirtless – No! Inappropriate, Amber Johnson!

"So, what's going on with you?"

To confess or not to confess? That was the question rolling around in her head. That and how could she make Crane disappear without drawing any suspicion? If it hadn't been for Crane, then Amber wouldn't have ever known that the Joker was a little possessive of her. And now, like any female would do, she was going to over-analyze every tiny thing the Joker did around her. It was just like how when a girlfriend tells you that 'Jimmy' likes you and you can never look at 'Jimmy' the same way again. You analyze everything he says to you, how close he stands next to you, etc. and now it was happening to Nurse Amber.

Amber once prided herself at keeping a professional attitude when it came to attractive co-workers or patients. She'd accept they were attractive, mentally acknowledge it as a fact and move on. When she began to work at Arkham Asylum though, that professionalism had been seriously put to the test when she saw that the males of her group were all handsome buggers. She forced herself to slip into professional mode concerning their sex appeal. Now, over a year later, Amber felt that it was glitching. Working at Arkham Asylum wasn't like working at any other asylum. Those other places didn't have people like the Rouges, so Amber had to tweak her professional approach in order to survive the madness. If she'd stuck to the strict rules and regulations, the asylum's residents would have chewed her up and spat her out within days. She'd evolved to become what was needed to stay alive and handle her charges, which meant that professionalism got chucked out the window; including the leash on her hormones it seemed.

"I've just got a lot on my mind, Joker. Fitz is off reporting his observations to the Board, there's a party going on in the cafeteria, and I'm in here with you making a piñata that is bound to end badly once we give it to them, and – and – and lots of other stuff!"

Amber ducked under the Joker's arm and carried out her task. She caught a glimpse of the two guards thoroughly engrossed in conversation and not at all aware of what was happening; just as she was not aware that the Joker had suddenly invaded her personal bubble in a way that he hadn't before. She sensed him behind her too late. After straightening up from smoothing the papier-mâché, she felt her back brush against his chest. She froze, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. He had her trapped between the table and him.

The Joker inhaled deeply, his chest expanding and pressing against her. He let out a hungry sound that rumbled deep in his chest. "I have got to know what the name of your perfume is. You wear it all the time and it still makes my mouth water. What's it called?"

Amber blanched. No way was she telling him! Mmh-hm! Nope! It was too embarrassing. The only being, besides God, who knew the name of her perfume, was Joan and the only reason she knew was by accident. Joan had seen the bottle on her dresser when visiting Amber's apartment. Joan had laughed until tears ran down her cheeks.

"Aaambeeer," the Joker cooed. He took a more subtle sniff and Amber tensed as she felt him step closer. "What's the name?"

Oh dear God… Why did you make him crazy?

The backs of his fingers brushed Amber's spine. An eruption of goosebumps spread all over her body. She yelped and involuntarily lurched forward, bumping into the table and knocking the piñata off-balance. Both she and the Joker lunged to grab the piñata. They grabbed it at the same time and Amber realized she was in even more trouble. She was now encaged by the Joker's long… toned…defined…arms…

Craaaaap! Down, girl!

"Is everything okay over there?" one of the guards asked, his attention grabbed by Amber's yelp.

Oh now you care! "We're fine," she squeaked. It took no time at all for the guards' attention to waver and once again, Amber and the Joker were basically left unsupervised. None of the patients were allowed things like perfume or aftershave, and yet Amber detected a faint scent on the Joker. It was akin to smoke and paint and something else she couldn't put a name to. Overall, it wasn't an unpleasant smell.

Stop iiiit.

The Joker lowered his face close to Amber's right ear. "I'm not moving until you tell me," he whispered.

Amber lowered her voice as well. "Jerk."

"Hey, you're the one not sharing."

"Back off."

The Joker freakin' pressed closer. "Nope," he replied, emphasizing the 'p'.

Amber held herself so stiffly that her back began to ache. The Joker didn't appear to be feeling any sort of physical discomfort. She remembered over-hearing one of the Joker's past psychiatrists say that he had a remarkably high pain threshold. Well, crap…

"Amber Romance," she mumbled begrudgingly.

"What was that?" the Joker asked, tilting his head closer.

"The name of the perfume that I'm wearing is Amber Romance. Now would you please back off?"

He did, but only a couple of inches. His hands trailed from the piñata, slid along her arms (causing Amber's heart to skip a beat) and traveled down to her hips. He turned her to face him. His lips were pressed tightly together, one eyebrow cocked and an indecipherable look in his brown eyes. "Amber Romance," he repeated in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Yeees," Amber replied cautiously.

And just like that, the Joker burst into hysterical laughter. He released her hips and crumpled into a hee-hawing heap on the floor. Amber stubbornly glowered at a point on the wall in front of her, arms crossed, lips pursed. "It's not that funny," she said bitterly.

"Oh! HA HA HA HA HEE HA HA HA! OOH HEE HA HA HA! Oh, swee-hee-hee-heet heart," he cackled, struggling to sit up, and wiped a tear from his eye. "That is the funniest thing I think I've ever heard."

"Is –is everyth-thing okay over there?" the same guard from earlier stuttered, clearly unnerved by the Joker's horrific laughter. The guards from outside the room had burst in and gathered together, each gripping their batons in trembling hands. Maybe Amber had been around the Joker so much that his laughter's ominous sound didn't affect her like it did the staff. At the moment, she found it annoying and she was thoroughly embarrassed.

"Still fine," she ground through clenched teeth.

"Say, boys!" the Joker hooted. "Wanna know the name of Nurse Amber's perfume?"

Amber swooped down and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Course they don't cause they have other more important things to tend to and we should get back to making that piñata for Chelsea's party so that they can go about their jobs, what do you say, Joker?" Amber said in one rushed breath.

"Mmh-hmm," came the muffled reply behind her hand.

"Everything's A-Okay here, guys," she said, giving them said sign with her free hand. "Keep up the good work!"

When they were no longer being watched, Amber removed her hand from the Joker's mouth and glared at him. "I swear if you tell anyone about my perfume –."

"Aaaw," the Joker pouted. "Is wittle Amber embawassed about her perfuwme?"

"I mean it," she hissed.

The Joker smiled smugly but his mirth dialed down. "Why so serious, pumpkin?" he asked with a shrug.

Okay, just what is with all of the pet names today? "It's embarrassing for the same reason why you're laughing about it!" Amber suddenly snapped.

The Joker titled his head to the side, eyeing her curiously. "How do you mean, chickadee?"

Amber exhaled and sat on the floor. She stared at her red converse, noticed her left shoe lace had come undone. She began to retie her shoe, if only so she wouldn't have to look at the Joker as she talked.

"I didn't get that perfume because it had my name in it. I was participating in a blind smell test and that's the one I ended up liking the most. I was…amused at first when I found out what it was called, but I liked it and didn't care at first. I made the mistake of telling a past acquaintance the name of my perfume and she nearly chocked on her own spit from laughing so hard just like you did. You want to know why? Because my name and the word 'romance' don't go together. Maybe it goes hand in hand with other Ambers but not me."

The Joker knit his brows together. "Why's that?"

Amber quirked an eyebrow at him. "Have you seen me?" She huffed and focused back on her shoe laces. "I'm not saying that I'm not pretty. My self-esteem isn't that low but I'm no knock-out either. I'm attractive enough to catch a guy's eye but…" She chuckled. "A couple of minutes with me and my sex appeal takes a nose-dive." Amber shrugged, finished with her shoe, and sat back, leaning her weight on her arms. "I'm not sexy. At all. Heck, I don't even know how to be. It doesn't bother me too much, but then there are times when …" Her eyes came to focus on the Joker and she trailed off, remembering who she was talking to. A bright blush spread across her cheeks and she looked away. "Anyway, um, I guess I can see the joke of me wearing that particular perfume."

She avoided meeting his eyes but it's probably best that she did. If she had seen what was currently reflecting in the Joker's eyes, Amber would have run….and he would have caught her within seconds. So it's really a good thing that she didn't look at him right then, because then this chapter would've taken a turn that would have made the author up the rating of this story (wink wink).

She'd been distracted when tying her laces, the Joker noticed. He barely had to stretch his arm as he reached over and tugged her laces free. Amber gave him a reproachful look and shifted to pull her foot away but he put a light pressure on her foot, a silent request that she not move. He could read the uneasiness in her body language, so he was careful in his movements. Taking her foot in his hands, he began to tie her shoe himself. While he did so, he talked.

"You know what I like about you, Nurse Amber?"

She blinked at his use of her title. She couldn't detect any sarcasm in his tone. Instead of speaking, she remained quiet and waited for him to continue.

"I like that most of the time you don't care how attractive the world thinks you are. You just go on living your life, doing your job … but then … those little – little moments when you're reminded about how the world rates you by their standards of what beauty is … It's those moments when you get this self-conscious, lost look on your face and I just want to –."

He tightly cinched the laces just as he cut himself off so suddenly that Amber lifted her gaze to his. This time, he was the one not meeting her eyes. The Joker swallowed thickly and swiftly tied the laces off. A moment of charged silence passed. His fingers walked up her shoe, up her shin and to her knee. He rest his palm there and gave it a squeeze.

"It's not so far-fetched, your name being associated with that word, babe."

Amber scoffed. "Oh sure, I'm the queen of seduction."

"Well, you're somebody's queen. Somewhere out there is a guy who's going to think that all the little quirks and goofy things you think you do, are the sexiest things he's ever seen."

Amber couldn't help but laugh at that. "That's a load of bull, even for you, Joker." She wasn't thinking clearly when she spoke next. "Name one thing sexy about me, I dare you."

The Joker didn't hesitate for a second. "That thing you do with your mouth when you're thinking or get nervous. You kinda bit your bottom lip aaand…" He trailed off and looked at her.

Amber didn't breath. It took her a couple of seconds to remember to do that. She never thought much about her habit of nipping her bottom lip. She certainly never thought it was sexy. Her front teeth were a bit larger than average. She wasn't buck-toothed, but she was self-conscious about them because in her mind all anyone saw when she bit her lip or smiled were those large front teeth.

"Nurse Amber? Is the piñata ready?" Gatsby called.

The Joker let out a low groan. "That artsy-fartsy guy just has the most wonderful timing." He peered around the corner of the table. Gatsby lowered his line of sight and frowned in confusion. Amber poked her head around as well and smiled at the art therapist.

"Oh, hi, Gatsby."

Gatsby cocked an eyebrow. "Care to explain how the piñata is being worked on when it's on the table and you're both, um … sitting on the floor, hmmm?"

"Oh, I'd looove to explain, Gassy," the Joker chuckled as he rose from the floor. "Right after I rearrange your face in a way that would make Picasso proud."

Gatsby let out a barely audible, "Eep," and took a step back.

The Joker offered Amber his hand. She hesitated … then took it. He pulled her up too hard and grinned like the devil when she stumbled and bumped into his chest. His hand came to rest at the small of her back for the briefest of instants. He felt her body react to his touch instantly; the stiffening of her back, the buzz of energy that thrummed beneath her skin at the contact. If this was how she responded to a little brief contact, the Joker wondered what would happen with a more intimate touch.

Amber quickly stepped away and gestured towards the piñata. "Just a few more minutes, Gatsby. We have to use a blow dryer to speed up the process. Did you bring the candy like I asked?"

Gatsby proudly held up a cloth shopping bag. "Of course, of course," he said, beaming.

"Great, just leave it here and we'll put the candy in when we're done."

Gatsby slipped the shoulder straps off and set it down on the table. "You know, Amber, what you're doing for Chelsea is really really nice. I can't remember the last time we had an actual going away party of any kind for a patient."

"That's because the staff knew that patient would be back in a week but the asylum needed to report a patient being cured so funding would continue," the Joker said, picking up where he and Amber had left off with their project.

Gatsby winced. "Yeaaah that might have something to do with it."

The Joker caught Amber's worried expression. "That's not what's happening with Chelsea, is it? Letting her go so that the asylum looks good?" She looked hurt.

"No, no, no!" Gatsby and the Joker both waved away her concern, not wanting to be responsible for any tears.

Gatsby hurried to explain. "Chelsea has made a legitimate recovery. Dr. Arkham would have never allowed you to throw this party for her if he suspected she'd be returning."

Amber let out a relieved sigh and the men allowed one for themselves, glad no waterworks would be happening. "Well, I guess I should get back to the party," Gatsby said, turning for the door.

"Hey, Gatsby," Amber called.

"Yes yes?"

Amber bit her bottom lip and only realized she was doing so when she heard the Joker make a primal-like groan. She quickly stopped and pretended not to have heard him, despite Gatsby giving the Joker a startled look. Stepping closer to the art therapist, Amber lowered her voice and said, "I need you to watch Bolton."

He gave her a curious look. "Why on earth –?" She gripped him by the wrist and sent him a silent plea with her green eyes.

Gatsby glanced at the Joker, who suddenly pretended he hadn't almost been caught eavesdropping, and then nodded at Amber. "Okay, my dear. Okay." He left the room and Amber didn't return to the art table until the doors had shut behind him.

"What's up with putting a watch dog on the alpha dog?" the Joker asked.

Amber cast a quick glance at the guards in the room. She needn't have bothered, they weren't paying attention.

"Has Bolton ever lost his temper on any of the patients here?"

The Joker paused, his eyes sliding over to her. "That's a pretty well-guarded secret among the security. What tipped you off?"

"Just…things about him that didn't feel right to me. I asked some of the staff –."

The Joker's hand suddenly gripped Amber by the wrist and he pulled her in, an anxious glint in his eyes. "Who did you ask?" he hissed.

"Just a few people who work with him often."

His grip unintentionally tightened. "Who?"

"Um, Titus… Bradley," she winced at the pressure on her wrist, "And, uh, Dr. Leeland."

"Anyone else?" the Joker whispered.

"No – oh, wait. Carlton –."

The Joker's eyes flashed and he groaned, releasing Amber's wrist. "Carlton," he seethed. He gripped the edge of the table and leaned on his arms, gaze fixed on the table top. "Carlton is one of Bolton's lackeys, sweetheart."

Amber rubbed her wrist, watching the Joker very carefully. She licked her lips before asking, "Has he ever hurt you, Joker?" He didn't respond, at least not verbally, but the way he stiffened up gave Amber her answer. "…Has he hurt anyone else?"

"We Rogues have got a nickname for Bolton, Amber. We call him 'Lock-Up."

"Why do you call him that?"

She suddenly found herself the main focus of the Joker's stare. There was no humor in his eyes, no smirk twitching his lips and no laughter in his voice. "You don't want to know, Amber. You really don't want to know. But now he knows you're on to him and, sweetie, that's not good." He straightened from the table, his height towering over her. "You gotta be careful around him. You hear me? You gotta be reeeal careful."

Back in the cafeteria, Katherine and Nigma were sharing a slice of cake while watching the festivities of the other patients. Chelsea was the center of the sane people's focus while the crazies preferred to talk amongst themselves or to themselves.

"They've been gone for nearly two hours now, Gatsby. Are you sure Amber seemed okay?"

Nigma's head twitched ever so slightly, but he kept a bored expression on his face as he listened in to the conversation taking place a few feet behind him.

"Joan, Joan, Joan, of course I'm sure. She was fine. It's only been about fifteen minutes since I left. They'll be here any moment with the piñata."

"Hey, Mr. Nigma, do you want the icing?" Katherine asked, unaware he was eavesdropping.

Nigma gave a start and glanced at her. "Huh? Oh, uh, no. Go ahead." He focused back on Dr. Leeland and Gatsby.

"I don't like this," Dr. Leeland said, "They shouldn't have been left alone."

"They weren't alone; Marv and Terry were in the room with them."

"Like I said, they shouldn't have been left alone."

Katherine broke in again. "Do you want this part of the cake, Mr. Nigma? It's got the green design on it."

Nigma refrained from snapping at her. "No, no, no; just take the rest of it."

Katherine's eyes went big. "Really?"

"Yesss," Nigma answered, clenching his teeth and straining to listen without being obvious.

"Joan, my dear, why are you so anxious about this? The Joker has shown no aggressive behavior towards Amber and appears to enjoy their bantering."

"Have you seen the way he looks at her? He looks like he wants to…"

Gatsby gave a solemn sigh. "I know. It kills me that she doesn't notice. She's so so naïve in that regard."

"Mr. Nigma, are you feeling okay?"

Nigma fixed his golden-brown eyes on Katherine and inhaled deeply through his nose before he spoke. "Katherine, kitten, could you do me a favor and get me some punch?"

Katherine's eyes seemed to get even larger. "You just called me 'kitten' in that beautiful accent of yours, I will do anything you say," she said with adoration. She sprang from the table and hurried off. Nigma hunched over the table and tried to look occupied with shifting cake crumbs on his plate.

"Do you remember what the Joker did to that nineteen year old girl we had working here four years ago?" Dr. Leeland asked Gatsby.

"…Yes…Yes, I do."

Nigma felt his skin crawl at the memory. The girl had been an intern at Arkham for only a week. She'd been assigned to observe the patients in the rec room and the Joker had been acting up. She called him out, telling him to settle down, and the Joker responded that, "Little girls don't tell big boys what to do." He snapped her neck before anyone could stop him.

"Amber's not a teenager though, Joan."

"She's young enough that if the Joker found out he was being ordered by someone so much younger than himself –."

"I got your drink, Mr. Nigma!"

Nigma about jumped sky-high. "Thank you, kitten," Nigma said with forced cheer as he took the cup from Katherine. She plopped in the seat next to him and beamed. Eh, she was too cute for him to be angry at her.

"SWING BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, SWING!" the Joker crowed as he and Nurse Amber entered the cafeteria. He held the piñata aloft and Chelsea cheered along with a few other patients. The staff exchanged the nervous glances of those who were well experienced in dealing with their share of chaotic shenanigans.

Katherine observed the Joker and Nurse Amber as they worked with Gatsby to set up the piñata. Something niggled away at her. She was seeing something…but what? The Joker stepped up behind Amber, his arms reaching around her to take the piñata from her after she'd attached string to its top. Amber visibly tensed when the Joker's arms nearly encircled her.

Katherine pursed her lips. "Hmm. That's interesting."

"What is?" Nigma asked, having given up trying to overhear Dr. Leeland and Gatsby's conversation. They had stopped talking the moment the Joker arrived.

Katherine gestured at Nurse Amber and the Joker with her spoon. "Notice anything odd between those two? Something's up."

Nigma carefully studied the two for a few moments. Amber flinched ever so slightly when the Joker's hand brushed against hers when passing the piñata to him. He winked at her and the faintest trace of a blush crept onto her cheeks. Katherine's mouth dropped open, the spoon threatening to fall from her lips. She faced the Riddler with wide aquamarine eyes. "Did you freakin' see that?" she asked.

"Um," Nigma replied.

"Did that really just happen? Is it actually coming true? Has the OTP I have been shipping since day one -,"

"Actually you didn't start shipping them until Amber had been here for five months."

"Since month five," Katherine corrected without even pausing, "have finally began to see they're meant to be?"

Nigma and Katherine looked back at the Joker and Nurse Amber. The young woman kept glancing at the Joker. He caught her before she could avert her gaze and he wiggled his eyebrows at her. Amber pressed her lips together tightly – to hide a grin, no doubt! – and hurried away. Aaw, Nurse Amber could be so bashful!

Katherine clutched at the Riddler's shirtfront. "The plan worked."

"It did?" Nigma asked.

Katherine pressed the side of her face to his while her gaze remained fixed on the unaware pair. "They are on the path of becoming a couple. Success is eminent. Oh happy day!" She squeezed Nigma in a bear hug and just as he was in need of air her arms went slack and a dejected expression replaced her smile. "So why do I feel so empty?"

"Impossible! After all the cake you ate?" Nigma interjected.

"It's no fun now. I can't –." She gasped with horror. "I can't meddle anymore!" Grabbing a fist full of Nigma's shirt, she bumped foreheads with him as she turned to face Nigma. "I'm not happy unless I can meddle!"

"Maybe you should find somebody else to ship?" he suggested, rubbing his temple.

"I'll just have to find somebody else to ship!" Katherine went on, as if she'd come up with the idea.

Nigma frowned. "I just said that."

But Katherine was already scanning the faces in the room. Her eyes skimmed over Crane, and then quickly did a double take. "Crane!" she half whispered, half shouted.

Nigma noticed a maniacal grin spreading along her mouth. "Kitten? Kitten, I don't like that smile."

Without looking away from Crane, Katherine distractedly placed a finger over Nigma's lips. "Ssshhh, I must conspire." She began to mutter under her breath and Nigma knew she was too far gone. "Who to ship him with…"

"Katherine?"

"Who shall be the next Mrs. Crow?"

"You mean Mrs. Scarecrow?"

"No, Crow. Isn't Scare his first name?"

Nigma rolled his eyes and signed, shaking his head.

"Of course!" Katherine suddenly cried, nearly making Nigma fall out of his seat. "We will ship Katelynn 2 with him!"

"Katelynn 2? Wait, 'we'?"

"It's perfect! The stoic, bookworm psychiatrist –,"

"Ex-psychiatrist."

"– and the crazy, hyper-active girl who has illusions of being Ba – He Who Must Not Be Named."

Nigma rubbed his eyelids. "Oh good lord."

"It's opposites attract! The perfect match! My plans will be set in motion tomorrow!"

(Well, what did you guys think? Was it worth the wait? What will happen now between Nurse Amber and the Joker? How will Harley react to it? And just what is going to happen now that Amber knows Bolton isn't such an upstanding guard? I hope you'll stick around to find out. Please let me know your thoughts!

Until next time, dear Readers!

~ My Purple Skies)