Hola! I was quick this time, Ithankyou. Your reviews REALLY helped. I like those long, in depth ones, analyzing my story. Those are FUN and they make me go, "Yeah! Yeah! They GET it!"

So thanks for reading. I really hope you liked The Kiss... :)

Uhhhhm... This is a LONG one. LONG. Sorry if it bothers you but I think it's worth it. I just didn't know where to stop.

Listen to Gallery Piece by Of Montreal. It's good for this story, but also just do it because it RULES. Everything they do rules.

I am NOT going to get into an Of Montreal rules rant right now.

Okay. Reviews please! Love y'all! Bye!

Jessica wanted to make a swift escape to her room upon their arrival back at the theater, determined not to let anyone ask her any questions. She jumped from the van and walked as fast as she could through the emergency exit, into the familiar smell of old wood, rot and men's cologne that was the theater.

Two men coming down the hall let out little yells, alerting the others that they were back, and ran towards her, already starting to ask questions about the job—had it been successful? Where had they gone? Where was Harvey Dent? Jess broke away from them, feeling the need to sob, and ran for her room while Billy and a few others spilled through the doors behind her. The men who had not been allowed to come along on this one immediately began interviewing them, but they, unfortunately, were much too concerned about Jess.

"Jessica!" Billy yelled after her.

She looked back only momentarily and felt a stab of guilt as she saw the anxiety on his face, then another stab as he was jostled by the men around him and he cringed, cradling his broken arm. She should go back to him, she thought, if only to let him know she cared that he was injured.

Sighing, knowing that the men would soon be cooing over her tear streaked cheeks, she turned around and started to trudge back to the large group forming near the door, unanswered questions flying through the air.

Then, suddenly, the assembly went silent and men started to back away, unknotting themselves, acting very casual. Jess immediately saw the reason for this. The Joker had entered, a dark look on his face, and was staring around silently at the Lucky Twenty.

Jess froze. She couldn't bear to have him even notice her, couldn't stand thinking about him kissing her. Blood rushed to her face and she turned away, once more making her way to her room.

She heard the Joker's voice as she left, but couldn't make out many words; she only recognized the tone. He was annoyed now, irritated that they hadn't done what they'd set out to do. The exhilaration of seeing Batman, battling with him, had worn off and he was once more in a foul mood. Jess wondered if she had anything to do with it.

She broke into a run down the darkened hallways, reaching her room and slamming the door, determined never to come out again.

"Jess…" A voice called through the door, soft and worried.

Jess had been buried under her blanket, just crying for the last hour, not wanting to face any of them. She couldn't leave the room because what if she saw him out there in the halls? Her worst nightmare was that she'd have to meet him face to face on his terms. She just wanted to forget that he had ever kissed her.

As absurd as it was, she wished it would all go back to how it had been before. Everything was so damned complicated now.

"Jessica, let us come in." This voice was a bit harder, biting back a touch of anger. She thought it was probably Blake.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound normal, as though she hadn't only just been sobbing into a pillow.

The door opened, as though that was an answer, and Billy and Blake spilled in, followed closely by Drew. They all stopped, staring at her, their expressions unreadable, all a little hard. Billy had a cast and splint on his forearm, Drew wore a long bandage down the side of his neck and Blake had ugly purple bruises forming from his chin to his temple. Jess sat up, a little shamed, and they regarded her silently for a long time. Finally, she couldn't stand it any more.

"What?" she snapped, looking up at them.

They all frowned like disappointed fathers and Billy sighed, taking a seat on the ground. Drew followed suit but Blake, arms crossed and lips compressed, stayed standing.

"We just wanna know something," Drew said, eyebrows knitted, looking down as though trying to pick his words. He took a deep breath and said the next phrase very slowly: "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Jess straightened up, frowning.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked coldly.

"Oh drop the shit, Jesster," Blake growled. "What kind of game are you playing? You think you can just cozy up to the boss like that? You think that won't get you killed?"

Rage flamed in Jess and she stood up from the cot suddenly, hands clenched in tight balls, fingers digging into her palms.

"I'm not playing any games," she retorted coldly. "'Cozying up' to him? What do you take me for?!"

"What the hell are we supposed to think?" Blake barked. "One second you're telling us all how much you hate him, the next you're dressed like that," he motioned to her now wrinkled, sweat stained dress, "and you're kissing him in an alleyway!"

"He kissed me!" Jess yelled, tears springing to her eyes. "You think I asked for that?!"

"Why did he kiss you, Jess?" Billy said softly, a little bitterness in his tone. "Can you at least tell us that? Because we're all a little confused as of right now!"

"Join the fucking club!" Jess screamed. "I'm right there with you, Billy! You think I can even begin to understand that man? You think I know why he goes from giddy to calm to…" she searched for a word and snarled it ironically, "romantic to angry? I don't fucking know why he kissed me! I sure as hell didn't see it coming!"

"I didn't see you doing anything to stop it," Blake said, "so don't give me this bullshit about how awful it was. Normal girls would've slapped him."

"I…" Jess took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, knowing that screaming at Blake would be no help. "I didn't know what to do…" She shook her head and stared hard at him. "He had a knife, Blake! And he is not above cutting me."

Truth be told, until now Jess hadn't even considered the Joker's weapon. She had just been in such a state of shock that she hadn't moved. But the men wouldn't buy that, she felt. They'd obviously never been kissed by the Joker.

"Oh, God," Blake said. "He wasn't gonna cut you! He didn't even have his knife out."

Jess bit back a scream of rage.

"I'll tell him to ambush you next time," she snapped, "since you have such a crush on him!"

"Don't start with me, kid," Blake warned.

Drew touched his leg and he looked down, blatantly making an effort to calm himself.

"Why you?" Billy asked in a sort of pained moan. "Why does someone like you have to go through this?"

"What do you mean?" Jess asked, looking down in surprise.

Billy had his legs to his chest and was resting his head on them in defeat. His anger was gone. He just looked tired. Drew looked at Billy, too, and shook his head, apparently comprehending what he meant.

"You're just a kid," Drew said. "Not like us. We've talked about it. We've all made mistakes in our lives, ones we haven't made right. I kind of figure that's why the Joker chose us; we had chances and we blew them."

Jess shook her head. What was he saying? They'd been normal people before this, like her. What did he mean?

"You don't fit that pattern," Blake said, still a little hostile. "You're a chick, you're a kid, and I don't think you've done a bad thing in your life, at least not one you haven't tried to reconcile. So why you?!"

"Wait," Jess said, "what are you guys saying? What did you do to make the Joker pick you?"

The three men glanced at each other.

"You've got to understand," Billy said, "we've kept it from you so far because we didn't want you to think we weren't with you in this. We are, Jess. All the way."

"What are you talking about, Billy?" Jess asked. She was reaching a sort of contained hysteria now, her mind racing furiously as she tried to find a pattern in all of this.

"You thought we were… I dunno… Just regular Joes before all of this?" Blake asked. Jess frowned and nodded, but Blake turned his head slightly and his long, grotesque scar was suddenly lit up in the light from the bulb.

Things clicked into place and Jess had to steady herself against her cot.

The smiles, the acceptance, the loyalty towards the boss, the ability to aim and shoot, the few qualms against using or carrying a gun, Billy's lock-picks, Blake's scar… Why hadn't she seen it before?

The Lucky Twenty were criminals. All of them. Had been before ever stepping foot in Gotham.

They weren't average, law abiding citizens. They had more knowledge of the underground world of crime than she ever could've guessed.

She'd been putting her trust in them, assuming that there was no method to the Joker's madness, that he had just picked them off the street.

She'd been dead wrong.

"So…" she closed her eyes and gulped. "So, this organization… This is all pretty status quo for you guys, huh?"

Billy made a noise of pain and looked away.

"Sorry we didn't tell you, Jess," Drew said. "We didn't know what to think when you turned out to be the twentieth member. At first, we were as confused by the game as you were… But when we came here and found out what the boss wanted us to do, why he'd chosen us…" He laughed. "Some of the men thought you might be, like, a mob princess or something. But we got to know you and…" He shook his head.

"It's not fair," Billy said, his voice breaking. "It's not fair to you that you have to be here. You did nothing to deserve this, Jess. And we're…" He looked down. "We're not fit to kiss the ground you walk on."

Blake made a noise of disgust.

"Oh come on!" he said. "We're not monsters! Jesus, we're still people, aren't we? Just because our areas of expertise before this included robberies and kidnappings doesn't mean we can't…" He looked at Jess and his eyes softened. "Doesn't mean we can't feel something for the kid. It doesn't mean we don't want to protect her… We still have souls, Bill." He turned to her and made significant eye contact. "We're not monsters, Jess."

Jess looked away and shook her head.

"I just…" she took a deep breath. "I can't believe you kept this from me."

"Sorry," Drew muttered.

"We thought it'd be better," Blake explained, "if you trusted us. We didn't think you would if you knew…"

"You're right," Jess said. "My faith would've been a lot harder to win had I known you were…" She paused and her lips pressed together angrily. "If I had known you were just like him."

With a groan, Billy put his forehead to his knees.

"We just wanted you to feel safe," Drew said. "You are safe, Jess. We promise. We're not gonna hurt you or anything, not ever. And if anyone ever tries…"

"We'll kill them," Blake finished. Drew shot him a dirty look.

"I just wish you weren't here," Billy murmured into his knees.

"Me too," Jess said bitterly.

"So… still, there's that question… Why'd he choose you?"

"You're not a mobster… right?" Blake asked. Jess shook her head, almost managing a smile. "You've never killed a man?" Jess shook her head with a sour laugh. "Never did time?"

"Stop it," Drew said. "You're scaring her."

"So why?"

"I don't know!" Jess cried. "I'm about as enlightened as you three. Cross my heart. Why the Joker would ever want me in his gang is way beyond me."

"He probably gets his kicks out of messing with you," Drew said scathingly.

"If he ever touches you again I'll kill him," Billy murmured.

"Good luck," Blake said.

Jess looked down at Billy, a little touched by his genuine urge to protect her. Even given this horrible realization, even now knowing that she was surrounded by thieves and thugs and very likely a murderer or two, Jess found it difficult not to still place her trust in them. They'd been there for her, after all. They'd done all they could to protect and help her, to try to make her life here as comfortable as possible. They'd all shown genuine affection for her.

It was difficult to define them by what they were, even when she knew that distancing herself from them would be best. She just couldn't bring herself to be alone here.

"You all are horrible influences on me, you know that?" Jess said.

The three men chuckled, half out genuine amusement, half out of relief that she was well enough to be making jokes.

"Sorry about that," Blake said, "but it looks like you're gonna be stuck being influenced by us for quite a while."

Jess shook her head in defeat and shrugged.

"Better you than the Joker, I guess," she conceded.

After a while, Drew and Blake left the room and Billy slid up to sit next to Jess on her cot. Nothing was said—there was nothing either could really say—and after a few moments, Jess leaned over and put her head against Billy's shoulder. He stroked her hair softly.

"So, what're you in for?" she asked.

He let out a little laugh.

"Robbery," he said. "Lots of it. Too much. Con jobs, too." He shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Jess."

"It's okay," she replied.

"No," Billy said, "no, it's not. I can't explain it… I… you… You make me wanna be better, you know? You make me wish I was just some normal guy who'd never held a gun in his life or broken in anywhere before this. I wish I was going through what you're going through."

"No you don't," Jess said, playing with the tips of her fingers. "It sucks."

Billy laughed.

"At least then you'd have someone."

Jess frowned and sat up, turning to look at Billy gravely.

"I do," she said, realizing it was true. "I do have someone. Even if you're not going through exactly what I am, you're still with me… Right?"

Billy smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "We all are."

Jess grinned, trying to look braver than she felt, and touched Billy's injured arm.

"Then I'll be okay," she said. "Who patched you up?"

"Alex," Billy replied. "He used to be a nurse."

Jess raised her eyebrows.

"At least we have some kind of medical knowledge around here."

They sat together for a long moment, Jess unconsciously stroking Billy's cast with her finger. Her mind flew immediately to the Joker and the way he had kissed her, mulling it over, trying now that she was calmer to make some sense of it. She couldn't.

"Does everyone know?" she asked quietly.

Billy didn't have to ask what she meant. He heaved a great sigh and put an arm around her shoulders.

"The truth?" he asked. Jess nodded, bracing herself for the worst. "Yeah. Everyone knows."

Jess was quiet for a moment. She bit her lip and looked down, picking a string off of her dress.

"What do they think?"

Billy shrugged.

"Theories abound," he said. "Most of them know you didn't instigate it. Some are saying you and the boss have been together from the beginning. Some of them think he was just being giddy and unpredictable, that he meant nothing by it. Some of them aren't surprised. They say they figured from the beginning that he'd brought you here for that. Some of them just think he has the hots for you."

"And what do you think?" Jess asked.

Billy sighed again.

"I dunno, Jess," he said. "It doesn't seem like him to do something like that. I've seen the way he treats you and in no way is there any tenderness there. I don't like it, obviously. I hate that he thinks he can just kiss you like that, like you're his property. I can't see him capable of any kind of real affection. So I don't know what I think. I just know that I don't want him to touch you again."

"You don't think this is… my fault, do you?" Jess asked.

Billy straightened and turned to stare at her, eyes extremely serious.

"How can anyone blame anything on you when the Joker is the obvious culprit?" he asked. "Don't even go down that road, Jess. No one thinks anything is your fault."

Jess smiled and settled against him again. From then on the subject was left behind. They talked over the party, the appearance of Batman—they agreed it had been the coolest thing they'd ever seen; neither had ever dreamed they would be going head on with an actual super hero—wondered who the woman had been, where Harvey Dent was, and whether or not this was part of the movie or if they were living some parallel series of events, changed from the film.

It got later and later and the events of the day started to take their toll on the pair of friends. Billy left the room when Jess fell asleep against his shoulder.

The next day, Jess rolled out of bed around noon. She hadn't realized, until practically passing out the night before, how tired the job had made her, so even with around seven hours of sleep on board she was still a zombie, getting up, washing and dressing in a daze.

Trying hard not to think about the night before, she threw the dress into the pile of clothes to be washed in the machine some of the men had gotten—now, she assumed, stolen. She ran a hand through her hair and mumbled sleepily to herself as she crossed the hall to the rec room, peeking in carefully to make sure any undesirables, namely the Joker, were absent.

He wasn't inside. Jess wasn't surprised. It was rare for him to ever be about before evening. She slid inside and was half way through pouring herself a bowl of cheerios before she noticed that most of the men were staring at her. A hot blush swept over Jess's face and she hurriedly dumped the dry cereal back into the box, suddenly not very hungry at all.

Immediately, thoughts flooded her brain and she couldn't focus on anything as she left the room, besides last night… The feel of the Joker's mouth, his exhilarated breath melding with hers, the imperfections of his lips…

Her face got even redder as she walked swiftly down the hall. Had she enjoyed it?

Looking back now, she supposed it hadn't been all bad… But there was no room to enjoy or not because mostly what the kiss had instilled in her was a very deep confusion. What did he want with her if the rest of the men were criminal? What had he meant by kissing her? Why was she here?!

"Dammit!" she grunted, punching a wall hard enough to leave red marks on her knuckles. She immediately brought her fist to her mouth and sucked the bruises forming there, eyes watering with the pain. Reminding herself not to do that again, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor, head hopelessly dropped between her legs.

A low laugh filled her ears suddenly and with a start she looked up, realizing that she was right across the way from the greenroom door, the Joker's "office." The door was closed, but she could see a dim light spilling out from beneath it and she could hear the low voice of a man and scattered laughter.

He was in there. Talking to himself.

Jess stared at the door, a little mesmerized, compellingly interested in what he was doing. Making plans? No, that didn't seem like him. Most likely he was just carrying on his own special little conversation. Crazy. Totally crazy.

Then Jess had a thought. The Joker was relatively straight forward, certainly in your face. He left no room for hesitation or elusion. What if…

It was crazy, but what if Jess turned the tables on him? What if she barged in there, demanding to know what the hell he had been doing kissing her last night, asking why she was here and how he had picked her?

She stood up, suddenly very determined, deliberately not thinking her plan all the way through in the fear that she would doubt herself. She knew she would. This was crazy. And stupid. But, God… She wanted to know! She needed to know! And right now the Joker was the one with all the answers. Somehow she couldn't let him have that power over her.

He laughed again when she touched the doorknob and she jerked back, startled, but when nothing happened, she once again gripped the knob.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open from the inside and the Joker was there in the doorframe, half shadowed in the dim light from the hall. Jess gasped in surprise and he looked down at her, his own eyes widening a bit when he connected who she was, then reached out for her immediately. Before she knew what was happening, he had dragged her into the room by both arms, slammed the door behind them and thrown her roughly on the couch.

Jess sat up, trying to collect herself as he stood before her, breathing a little more heavily than usual. He seemed to be wrestling with himself. His mouth moved silently, forming words only he could hear and he fingered the little paring knife he always kept up his sleeve in one of his hands. His other hand was balled into a rigid fist.

After a second or two licked his lips and tilted his head back as though in exasperation, cracking his neck. Jess decided to speak.

"Well," she said, smoothing her shirt, trying really hard not to seem as terrified as she was, "that was kind of a rude greeting."

The Joker growled and turned his back on her, striding quickly to the door and wrenching it open, holding it there, obviously indicating that she could leave now if she wanted. Jess wasn't sure what he meant by this. He had dragged her inside, which probably meant he didn't want her to leave right away. Perhaps he just assumed, after his reaction to her, that she would want to get out as soon as possible. But it wasn't like him to be considerate.

Once more, the man was being an enigma. She wondered if he meant to.

She shook her head slowly and the Joker stared at her with hard eyes, then carelessly shut the door. He paced up to where she was still seated on the couch but hung back a bit, keeping his distance as though she were a skittish animal. This suited Jess just fine. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively and carefully met his eyes. There was no expression on his face—none that she could see behind the makeup, anyway—and his stance gave nothing away, either.

She hated when he was like this. She never knew how he would react to what she was saying.

"Hi," she muttered.

The Joker said nothing, just waited for more. He obviously wasn't going to be any help. If she wanted answers, she'd have to ask for them herself. Still… she couldn't just come out and say it! Awkward.

"How are you?" she asked instead.

The Joker tilted his head slightly and stared at her a little harder. He wasn't stupid. She knew that. He knew there was something on her mind. She wouldn't have come here if there hadn't been.

Jess sighed. There was nothing else for it. She reached down and picked a piece of string from her t-shirt, trying to look nonchalant.

"I talked to Billy," she said.

Silence from above. She kept looking down at her clothing, not wanting to face him.

"He told me that everyone in the Lucky Twenty was some kind of criminal when you got in touch with them… everyone but me."

The Joker cleared his throat.

"Yeah…?" he said.

Jess looked up at him.

"So…" she said, "I mean… I was just wondering…" She bit her lip. "Why me?"

The Joker didn't react. He looked as though the question had been one he had been expecting.

"Why not?" was all he said.

Jess stared at him.

"You're kidding," she said. The Joker's lip twitched in amusement. At the look of mirth on his face, anger suddenly exploded in Jess and she curled her hands into fists, standing up boldly. "Why not?" she asked rhetorically. The Joker raised his eyebrows. "Why not?! That's your excuse for bringing me here?! That's why you ripped me away from regular life? Because you figured why not?! That's the worst reason I've ever heard. That's cruel! Sadistic! That's… that's evil, you bastard! You stupid, crazy clown, you…"

The Joker had been laughing under his breath at her since her outburst had started, but at the word crazy the smile flew from his lips and he rushed her, pulling her face to him, his knife digging into her cheek.

"You'll wanna be very careful right now," he said quietly.

Jess whimpered, cursing herself for her harsh words. Why couldn't she just keep in her head that he was a dangerous person?! Now he was going to kill her. Perfect. Super. Just great, Jessica.

The Joker looked at her, eyebrows raised as though he was making sure she understood, then leaned towards her, looking quickly to either side, mouth open, trying to find words. He whispered into her ear.

"You're not very good at keeping out of trouble." Breaking away to make eye contact, the Joker gave her a significant look and took his hands from her face. Jess would have sighed in relief had he not kept his knife hovering very near her temple. "Sometimes," he said, looking around, "I wonder if you don't have a death wish. Hmm?" Jess shook her head vigorously, eyes straying towards the blade. He closed his eyes briefly. "Then why," he hissed, "don't you ever think before you talk?"

"I'm sorry," Jess squeaked.

The Joker let out a sudden giggle.

"Oh," he said, chuckling. "Oh, of course you are, Jesster. You're sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry!" His hands flew up to emphasize his point and Jess flinched, ducking away from him and pressing herself back against the couch, eliciting more laughter from the Ace of Knaves. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe you weren't part of any plans?" he asked. "That maybe you were the curve ball? Hmm? Did you never stop to wonder whether or not I really cared who you were, as long as you were different?!"

And then Jess understood. The Joker didn't have to have a reason for what he did. He just did it. With the rest of the Lucky Twenty he'd had a formula, a function for each of them. With her, it seemed that he had suddenly decided to include a girl, a regular person, and see what he could do with her.

She was the social experiment, she realized. Not the men. Her.

She stared up at him with challenging eyes, already forgetting the fear that had just gripped her.

"Ok. I'll buy that. But could you just tell me one thing?" she asked. The Joker raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Why the hell would you ever think I'd want you to kiss me?"

He'd anticipated that. She could see that. He'd expected her to challenge him and bring up the kiss. And she expected his response.

It almost came as a relief when she felt the sting of his knife across her collarbone. In a flash he had charged her, grabbed her long hair and pulled it back to keep her still, then slashed a long, deep cut across her shoulder. The pain of the injury made her determination to fight him stronger still, and she sent out both arms, trying to push him away roughly.

He was very strong, however, and the hand that had only recently been pulling her hair came down to twist her wrists together and around, pulling her arms into unnatural positions. Jess let out a strangled scream and tried to stomp on his foot, but the Joker readily kneed her in the gut and forced her to sit back on the couch while she doubled over in pain. One knee planted sturdily on her leg, pinning her to the couch with no lack of vigor, he leaned over and looked her directly in the eyes.

"You do have a death wish, don't you Jesster?" he said.

Jess felt the cut on her shoulder throb and a large drop of blood slid down her chest. The Joker noticed her squirm of discomfort and heartlessly jabbed his thumb into the wound, making her yell out loud in pain.

"Y'know, you don't seem to understand the gravity of the situation!" His voice was that bizarre, hysteric giggle he adopted when his efforts were causing him excitement. "Let me spell it out for you." He licked his lips and pressed his thumb once more into the gash, forcing a strangled moan of pain from Jessica. "You are alone in a dark room with a man," he smiled, "me. I have a knife, Jesster. And you are really starting to just…" he clenched his bloody hand in the air, "annoy me."

He brought his knife up to her mouth, pushing it between her lips, pressing it into the skin at one corner. Jess could taste her own blood from the cut at her collar and felt a surge of panic, adrenaline, as she realized what he was ready to do. She thought back on the days past, on the weeks before that and the months before that. Of the time when she had never even heard his voice.

No. She wouldn't let him destroy her life, then take it from her.

She couldn't.

Riding that wave of adrenaline, Jess acted without thinking, taking control of the first thing she could think of in an effort to save her life. In one smooth movement, she wrenched back, getting the knife out of her mouth with only a small cut at the corner, and in the same swift movement plunged forward, straight for her target.

This time, it was the Joker's turn to freeze as their lips met. His knife stabbed into the back of the couch as Jess grabbed his head, pulling his face forward for a rough, unexpected kiss.

The way to survive, she'd come to know, was to be unpredictable.

The Joker was only shocked for a moment. He ripped away from her before she could get the chance to do any real kissing and stared at her for just a second, breathing heavily, before his hand was fisted in her hair and his lips were one hers again.

This was weird.

Jess felt as though she were in a dream as the Joker kissed her, disconnected from her body. He was frantic this time, errant, and his mouth moved over hers with no pattern or reason to them. His lips were scarred and the texture was something unique, something she'd never felt before, nor would she ever forget. She could feel, at the sides of his mouth, the raised patterns of skin but somehow they didn't seem so grotesque anymore.

She allowed her head to drop back, opening herself up to him, giving in without meaning to. Truth be told, Jess simply wasn't thinking anymore. It was so overwhelming. All she knew now was that it was nice to have some real human contact.

Before she knew it, the kiss had deepened. The Joker's hands were clenching her hips and his mouth was open.

He was really pretty good, she thought absurdly. Had it been someone else, she would have thoroughly enjoyed it; the intensity was totally there. The kiss was heated, real, and she wished she'd experienced more kisses like it.

As it was, the whole thing scared her… she thought.

Her heart pounded in her chest but she was starting to question if it was just from fear. Her back was arched but was it only because she wanted to get away? Did she even want to get away?

The Joker's hands shifted slightly, bunching up her shirt a little, hot against the skin at her waist. She hadn't realized that her hands were around his neck, but they were, and the sound of his quickened breathing in turn quickened hers.

Okay. That was enough. She had to get away, and soon, or things were going to go from bad to worse. She couldn't even really remember why she had kissed him, anymore. It seemed hard to believe that he had only minutes ago been threatening her life, the way his lips pressed against hers as though he needed to taste all of her that he could.

Then one of his hands skimmed over her shoulder, calling to life the little sting from the paring knife. Jess stiffened as she remembered that he had done that to her.

With a hard shove, he was off her. She glared at him, heart racing, trying to kill him with her eyes as though everything—her own inner conflicts, her terror, her confusion—was his fault.

OH WAIT.

It was all his fault!

Jess wanted to hit him.

His makeup was even more smudged than before, the red from his lips extremely faded.

Had she done that? Had she just recently been kissing him… and liking it?! What was going on? How did she feel? She hated him, right? Right?!?

The worst thing of all was that she wasn't sure anymore.

Jess let out a strangled cry of rage and stood up. The Joker stared at her, confused and amused, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Jess tried not to see how sexy he looked like this: rumpled in the good way, chest heaving, hair tousled.

She let out another angry scream and pushed past him, hearing his silent giggles turn into loud laughter as she ran from the room, tears of fury and defeat pouring down her face.