Hey guys! Once again, I apologize for taking so long. I had a very busy month. But I got into my first choice college! (A really good school ;).) And I directed an awesome play. SO. It was successful.

This next chappy is one I really hope you like. It's sort of a "downtime" chapter, as the next few will be, because I need to develop Jess and the Joker's relationship. Anyway...

Listen to:

The Leaving Song Pt. 2- AFI

Kiss and Control- AFI

Paper Airplanes (Makeshift Wings)- AFI

They're very good. Two of them are on Sing the Sorrow and Kiss and Control is on Decemberunderground. AFI makes me smile... :)

I can't remember if I said this in another chapter… But I want to let everyone know that the Joker is twenty-seven here. Magical number twenty-seven, the age that all rock stars hope to live past.

That's the age at which Heath did the movie. He died at twenty-eight.

And I know it's a bit late, but can we all just give him a hand for winning the Golden Globe award? He totally deserved it.

I'm gonna miss him… and I never even knew him…

Ah. Now that my depressing speech is at an end…

Review, as per usual! Your reviews got me moving, I swear! So please please PLEASE say things to me! I love you all! Enjoy!

When Jess woke up, evening had fallen over Gotham. She left her room and wandered down the hallways, not at all perturbed that she had slept the day through. The theater was quiet, so probably most of the men were sleeping their hangovers off, too, and she knew if she hadn't been called or woken, she wasn't needed.

Things were getting easier, she reflected. In eleven days, this place seemed like home. She had bonded instantly with most of the people here and their occupations hardly worried her anymore. It was so strange how quickly humans could adapt. Strong humans, at least.

The Darwinian theory still held here. Survival of the fittest.

Was Jess fit enough?

She'd gotten by so far. She'd seen a murder, gone along on a group crime, and kissed a killer. As far as she was concerned, the worst was over.

And she would put those kisses out of her head.

The Joker had been in a weird mood that day, so the kisses were probably just a product of his personality at the moment. Doubtless he had redefined himself by now, so Jess told herself that there was no use in expecting him to kiss her every time she saw him.

And she was perfectly fine with that.

Yes sir.

No problems there.

She'd have nothing to do with his flawlessly flawed mouth, warm and wanting.

…

Jess bit her lip and tried to think of other things.

Did she regret taking that drug last night?

Not particularly, she realized. It wasn't as if she had to worry about her parents finding out and getting expelled from school seemed laughable. And her body? Well, it was probably going to get more physically damaged by the Joker than by anything she could do to it with drugs.

The body is a temple, her mother had always said.

Yeah, well. Why can't temples fly? Because they're bolted to the ground.

Jess didn't particularly feel like being bolted to the ground anymore.

She leaned against a wall and laughed to herself, thinking her thoughts a little absurd. Had she experienced an epiphany while she was sky high last night?

"Probably," she said to herself, grinning. "Everything was an epiphany last night."

"Y'know, when you start talking to yourself it means you're crazy."

Jess jumped and turned around, peering into the shadows near a doorway and finding the Joker leaning there, a very significant look on his face as he stared at her.

"Sorry," Jess said, shrinking away from him a little. "I was just thinking."

The Joker closed his eyes and let his mouth curve up into a very slight smile.

"I really hate it when people tell me they're sorry," he said. "As if that oughta fix everything. Seems lazy to me, y'know?"

"Sor--"

"Ah ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!" the Joker said, meaning for her to stop. She went silent and put her fingers over her mouth meekly. "Yeah. Y'know, you learn quick for a regular person."

Jess didn't like the way he had said that. Like she wasn't regular and he was making fun of her. She scowled at him. He laughed quietly and stepped forward, a little closer, hands out in front of him, his long, spidery fingers waving slowly.

"Don't like how rarely I see you smile, though. You oughta show the world that pretty grin."

His fingers jumped through the air at "grin," emphasizing his words as he approached her further and she shrank back as though she could disappear into the wall.

"You were all smiles last night," he said, a touch of bitterness tinting his words.

She studied his face, seeing no flicker of danger there, only the grin, and it terrified her. When he was blank or his face was contorted with anger, at least she could guess what he was thinking.

But when he was smiling…

It was like his mask. He was liable to do anything.

"Wonder what changed…" the Joker said, finishing his thought from before.

Of course he knew what had changed… He was just messing with her.

Jess was getting tired of his games.

"Well, I'm not high right now," she said. "And I don't really feel like smiling."

"Ah…" the Joker breathed, stopping a foot away from her and hunching his neck forward as though to get a better view of her face. "Is that the only way you can have fun, Jesster? Tsk."

The clicking noise he made at the side of his mouth irritated Jess, as did his jab at her.

"Not the only way," she said. "But around here, I'm not finding many things to be very happy about." The Joker lifted an eyebrow. "By the way, I apologize for approaching you last night. I wouldn't have touched you if I had been thinking straight."

There. That wiped that stupid little smirk off his face. Jess saw danger growing in his eyes and she was almost relieved by its presence. She could predict him now.

"Not the way you told it before…" he muttered, glancing behind him as though he expected someone to be coming down the hallway.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jess asked, trying really hard to keep the biting edge out of her tone.

The Joker shrugged.

"If, uh… If I remember correctly, you were only too happy to touch me," he said, both eyebrows raised, his eyes lidded slightly as he looked at her. He licked his lips as though trying to get rid of the ache of their chap. "Completely sober, too. Funny how your story doesn't add up."

Jess pursed her lips, almost raising her hand to stomp forward and hit him, but restraining herself. He probably had a knife on him and any physical fight would not end in her favor.

God, she hated him.

Or… she hated when he was like this.

Sometimes she could stand him, could even admire him.

But right now admiration seemed far away and rather impossible.

The Joker saw this inner struggle--saw right through the tight mouth and clenched fists--and smiled at it as though it were amusing. Jess wished she could scream at him but that, too, would surely end in a dead or injured state.

"You know that was just a fluke," she told him, her voice low and serious. "I wasn't in a good state of mind any of the times. Why don't you just leave me alone, huh?"

The Joker's laugh ripped out of his throat at that, high pitched and loud, echoing back down the hall.

"Oh sure!" he said sarcastically as he laughed, trying to get a hold of himself. "You just walk away and leave this all behind! Then I'll leave you alone." He let out another wheezy giggle and looked away as though she was just too much. "Y'know, Jess, I knew this whole thing would be good for a laugh. But you!" He pointed at her, the smile slipping slightly. "You! You never fail to demonstrate to me just how right I really was!"

He was coming closer to her again, pointing all the time, his fingers flying to emphasize his points.

"You want freedom from me? Hmm?"

He started to circle her, as though to add another facet to his taunt. His circle was slow, leisurely, and he would bend down every so often to get his point closer to her ear.

"I don't think you do. No, what you need… what they all need… is freedom from self. See, that's what I have, Jesster. I'm not all…" his hands toyed with an invisible object in the air, turning it over and around to try to find his words "preoccupied with self preservation." He laughed. "And you know what? It feels glorious. That's the kind of freedom you can't live--I mean really live--unless you have. You gotta earn it, though. But once you do…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as though smelling the sweetest air imaginable. "You don't live without it."

Jess shook her head, trying to figure out where he was going with this, and he immediately read and analyzed her expression.

"See, I'm not a captor," he said. "I'm a liberator. Maybe I'm your liberator. Maybe I'm this city's. The only problem is the pathetic…" Once again, he searched his hands for the words… "resistance people like you put up when they oughta just… enjoy the ride."

"People like me?" Jess asked. "And people like the Batman."

But the Joker was shaking his head before she'd even finished.

"No," he said. "No, no, no, no, no. Don't pretend you're like him. You're not. See, the Batman… he's on a whole other level. You are a resistor. The Batman is a fighter. The perfect fighter, trained and determined and passionate. You are none of those things. You don't really believe in your cause. You don't really want to resist."

"Yes, I do!" Jess insisted, staring him straight in the eyes but believing his words at the same time. "I do want to fight."

"No," the Joker said, a smile still stretching his lips. He knew he was winning, breaking down her defenses block by block.

And Jess knew he was winning, too.

"What you want to do is give up. And I invite you to, Jesster. I expect you to. Never betray what you are by trying to be what you should. You'll fail. You have."

Jess was shaking, but out of anger, fear or exhilaration she wasn't sure. His words were striking chord after chord of truth in her and it was jarring and terrifying but oddly invigorating. Liberating. He'd given her permission to give up the fight and live for the experience. Was that what she'd been waiting for?

"I hate you," she hissed, finding she didn't care whether or not his knife would flash.

He wouldn't kill her. Not now. Now, she knew somehow, wasn't the time for her to die. And he would respect that.

The Joker smiled widely at her statement.

"There's my girl," he said.

I'm NOT his girl, Jess thought, stomping down the hallway, hands balled into fists as she went. The Joker had turned and walked off after making his last statement, and Jess had been left there, disturbed by what he'd said.

His girl.

Ha!

As if.

He was just toying with her. She knew that. It was an expression, a common phrase. People said it all the time. "There's my boy" or "there's my girl." It meant what ever had been done was pleasing. Everyone knew it. It was just a phrase. He'd liked that she'd been brave enough to tell him she hated him. It was some sort of sick masochism.

If the Joker was anything, he was certainly masochistic. He loved it.

Why, then, had she been so disturbed by it?!

He'd only said it because she'd played directly into his game and it pleased him. He hadn't been insinuating anything by calling her his girl.

She knew that.

And, even if he had, it was ridiculous.

She wasn't his girl. Not in the slightest.

Not to the extent that she was like him, nor to the extent that she somehow belonged to him. In no way was she his girl.

…

So why was she so bothered?!

She decided not to think about it. Thinking about it would just stress her out and she'd find no sort of conclusion in pondering anything he said.

There was nothing concrete about the Joker and there was nothing final. So his words couldn't be taken too seriously.

Having said that, his speech had bothered her.

Things had changed for her, of course that was true, and she had changed. But how much of what the Joker had said was accurate? How much of her wanted to fight? How much of her wanted to give up?

And this phrase, this awful phrase, kept echoing in her head:

If you can't beat 'em…

Jess certainly couldn't beat them.

So what now? Would she join them?

Was she ready for that?

It was so scary, but she didn't know. She couldn't examine herself too closely without coming up with a lot of monsters she wanted to keep hidden away from her conscious mind. So she stopped examining and decided to look for something to keep her occupied for a while.

There was music coming from the rec room and Jess opened the door to find quite a few of the men lounging in there, an old song coming out of the CD player in the corner. Jess immediately recognized the tune.

"Some people call me the space cowboy.
Some call me the gangster of love…"

She turned to Billy, sitting on the couch not far from where she'd left him this morning, and raised her eyebrows at the song. He laughed and shrugged, inviting her to sit beside him. The rest of the men around the room found the song amusing, too, and when the chorus came on they broke into song along with it.

"I'm a picker
I'm a grinner
I'm a lover
And I'm a sinner…"

Jess shook her head. Apart from "sinner" the lyrics were in no way true to the real Joker. But it was all a little funny and she laughed and sang along, happy in this moment of simplicity as the Steve Miller Band played loud and their situation could be forgotten, drowned in an appropriate song.

"See, this is why I love the seventies," she said to no one in particular. "The songs didn't have to be complex to be good."

Billy laughed and nodded.

"You two weren't even alive when this song was on the radio," Keith said from beside the couch.

Jess stared at him.

"And you were?"

"Oh sure," he said, tilting his beer at her in a kind of toast. "Came out the year I was born."

"Oldie," Jess muttered, and he threw a pillow at her.

The next verse came on with the twang of guitars and Jess settled back into the couch, singing with the men around her.

"People talk about me, baby
Say I'm doin' you wrong, doin' you wrong
But don't you worry, baby, don't worry
Cuz I'm right here, right here, right here, right here at home…"

Billy slung his arm over her shoulder and a guy named Josh threw her a beer. She popped the tab, thought fleetingly about the dangers of underaged drinking, and took a swig.

"I'm a picker
I'm a grinner
I'm a lover
And I'm a sinner
I play my music in the sun…
I'm a joker
I'm a smoker…"

At that moment, Jess looked up from the distracted, cheerful singing men around her to the door of the room. It was like she had sensed a change in the atmosphere, like his presence had signified a sudden shift to her.

As though he'd been summoned by his name in the song, there stood the Joker, arms folded, leaning against the door to the rec room, an eyebrow cocked in amusement at the antics in the room.

Jess almost had to laugh. Here they were, belting out a song named for him, having a good time with it.

Sometimes the only way for humans to justify things was to laugh about them.

And so they were doing for the Ace of Knaves; laughing about him, with him, to justify him.

Jess had almost forgotten during the song how he was, and had for a moment almost felt a sort of affection for him, for his name and the joy a song named the same thing could cause.

Then she saw him.

He didn't look irritated, only highly amused, regarding the men as though they were a bit crazy.

That thought did make Jess giggle. If they were crazy, where was the Joker on the sanity spectrum?

Shit, what if he was the only one who wasn't insane?

Jess doubled over, her giggles intensifying.

Billy glanced up to follow her gaze and his face went dark. He, obviously, had not been so quick to forget what had happened yesterday. To Jess, it all seemed like the distant past. After all, she'd survived a whole conversation with the Joker today without receiving a single blow or a single kiss.

It was an improvement, certainly.

But Billy was not so hasty to forgive the Joker for touching her. She looked at him, her laughs dying, and thought for a moment that she should tell him about the boss's redefinition of self and how romance was now not on his list of things to do. But she didn't, because he'd want to know how she knew. And she didn't know how to tell him that she sort of understood the Joker now.

Well…

Understood was a bad word.

"Hey boss!" a few men hailed, once they had noticed his presence.

He nodded to them, but for the first time Jess noticed his eyes were trained mostly on her. Even when he was handed a drink by Logan and he used the bottle opener to pop the cap off, his eyes hardly flickered from hers.

His makeup was smearing and she could see the dark circles under his lower lids. The deep brown of his irises looked slightly dull in this light, and the whites were reddened at the corners. He didn't look well. She wondered if he ever slept.

Not knowing what to do, she nodded at him and raised her beer in a greeting. His mouth tightened a little and he kept staring.

Two men, by the names of Derek and William, were over there talking to him, and he'd nod and glance at them every so often but otherwise, really, he was focused on Jess.

She looked back to the TV uncomfortably, wishing he would just stop staring. What was he thinking? What was going on behind those eyes?

"Looks like the boss wants something," Billy muttered from beside her, obviously having noted the direction of the Joker's gaze.

"If he wants something, he can ask like a normal human instead of just staring until I talk to him," Jess replied, a little too loudly.

Keith choked on his beer.

"You have got balls, kid," Laurence chuckled, whistling under his breath.

Jess shrugged. She doubted he could hear them, across the room as he was, and with the music turned up the chance was very slight. So she wasn't really being brave. Or stupid.

But as if he had heard her statement, the Joker smiled slightly, pushed himself from the wall and, ignoring William and Derek, moved across the room towards her. Jess tried not to notice, tried to keep the pounding of her heart down in case he could hear that, too.

The Joker paused at the arm of the couch, a hand resting along the back of it, fingers drumming a rapid tattoo. He looked down at Jess, smiling, his eyebrows raised, and she caught his eye. Sighing, she decided she should probably say something.

"Is there something you wanted, Mr. J?" she asked too-sweetly, and before she had realized the words were out of her mouth.

Now it was Billy's turn to choke on his drink and turn away in laughter. Jess's face went bright red. Mr. J?!

She'd heard him called that by Harley Quinn in the comics since she was a child, so the name had been engraved in her mind. She just couldn't believe she'd actually used it!

But now that she had…

She kind of liked the sound of it. It seemed more natural than calling him Joker. That just didn't seem right at all…

Maybe if she took off the mister part? Just J?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she looked up at the Joker, who had tilted his head to one side as though mildly bemused by her name for him.

"Something I wanted…" he repeated. "Yeah. Come with me, Jesster."

The walk to the greenroom was made in silence. The Joker looked preoccupied and Jess didn't care to interrupt his thoughts by speaking, ever wary of him as she was. He didn't even seem to remember that she was near him and if he hadn't held the door open to usher her into his "office," she would have thought he'd forgotten her.

Once inside, the dim light of the room made Jess feel very uneasy. She glanced around nervously and watched the Joker take a seat on the couch, mindful of his every gesture, waiting for him to speak. But he wasn't even looking at her.

He rested a hand on the armrest of the couch and turned his head to look out the open window, to the darkened city with its many lights, the sounds of cars honking, people yelling and sometimes distant gunfire. Although Jess usually hung around in the theater, she'd listened to these sounds at night, and realized she'd come to love them. That she'd come to love this city.

She wondered fleetingly if the Joker did.

But her question was answered when she looked at his face, at the sneer painting his features; a sneer of deep disgust, loathing almost, but somehow…

A look of desire, deep, deep desire. A look of possessiveness. A look of longing.

He wanted Gotham, Jess realized. He wanted it more than anything. He considered it his city and he wanted to assert his claim.

For some reason, the thought softened her. She tilted her head and looked at him, kind of… touched by what she read in his expression. She'd never seen such yearning in anyone's eyes before and the thought that he was capable of such feeling took her by surprise.

The Joker turned and caught her staring, immediately analyzing her expression and, in turn, changing his. Once more, his eyes were probing but guarded and a smile curved his lips. However, he said nothing. A crease appeared between Jess's eyebrows as they stared at each other.

"Where were you just now?" she asked softly, referencing his far away look.

A flash of confusion or surprise echoed behind the Joker's eyes, but he recovered and looked away, back towards the window as though she were completely uninteresting to him.

"Don't ask me questions, Jesster," he said, almost in a sigh.

"Why?"

The Joker turned to look at her, amused, and she grinned slightly, still on guard. She didn't think he'd snap and get angry, but you never knew. She kept looking at him, not blinking, determined to force him to respond. He shook his head.

"Y'know, you won't get an answer," he said softly, his voice breaking.

"I know," Jess said. "Not from you, at least. But it never hurts to try, right?"

The Joker just looked at her.

"Oh, now that's not true," he whispered.

Subconsciously, Jess reached up to her collar bone, where the gash from the Joker's knife was scabbing; a souvenir from one of her last attempts to get answers.

"I just want to try to figure you out," she told him, keeping her voice level and soft.

They were both trying to play the game right now, and if she got angry or irritated or scared, he'd just kick her out. And then none of her questions would be answered… Questions that she felt he was the key to.

The Joker giggled slightly, but it wasn't too disruptive.

"Of course you do, Jesster," he said. "But how can you figure someone who doesn't figure himself?"

Jess frowned and shrugged, sighing slightly and going to stand by the window, deliberately placing herself between the Joker and what he wanted, forcing his attention to her.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know much anymore."

The Joker grinned as he looked at her, silhouetted against the night sky.

"Things have changed so much," Jess went on, placing her hands on the windowsill, taking and chance and actually turning her back on him.

She didn't know why she was compelled to do so. Maybe she was trying to show herself that she trusted him right now, even though that was a stupid thing to do. Maybe she was trying to show him she trusted him. Or maybe the view of Gotham from here was just too pretty.

"Like I said," came the Joker's voice, not having moved in position, "we all need change."

Jess turned to look back at him, grinning freely now. He wasn't approaching her! He was content to just… talk.

It almost made her want to cry, it was such a change. The fear was still there, but the whole atmosphere was different. He wasn't blatantly trying to intimidate her and he was listening to what she had to say. It was so weird.

"You remember everything you say?" she asked. Not teasing, not quite. Anyone who teased the Joker would probably wind up pretty dead.

The Joker looked down pensively at his hands.

"If I don't…" he said softly, then shook his head and looked back up at her. "You oughta go. Your friends are probably listening outside the door," he giggled, "waiting to spring in and save you if I say something that makes you… uncomfortable."

Jess frowned and turned around, resting against the windowsill.

"I thought you said you wanted something?" she asked gently, not sure why she wasn't running for the door given his permission to do so. Did she want to stay?

The Joker grinned at her, obviously wondering the same thing.

"What I want…" he said, then shook his head. "No. I've decided it can wait."

"Oh," Jess said. "Oh, okay."

She started moving to the door, watching the Joker for any change in dynamic. None came. He seemed to be wrapped up in some strange mood tonight, melancholy and pensive. So unlike him. Jess wanted to share in it more, but she didn't want to annoy him be trying to stay.

"It can wait," he repeated. "Can you wait, Jesster?"

He was looking up at her with lidded eyes. His greenish blond hair curled down gently over his face until he pushed it back with an impatient, fluttering hand. Jess looked at him, a little sadly. He was beautiful in appearance. Why did he insist on destroying himself?

"I can wait," Jess said, "especially if I don't know what I'm waiting for."

The Joker smiled.

"Good," he said.

"You sure you don't need anything else?" Jess asked.

What was she going for here? What was she hinting at him wanting? She didn't know. She just knew that the idea of leaving him right now didn't really appeal to her.

The Joker had started to chuckle lowly, she realized. His shoulders shook as he stared down at the floor, suddenly extremely amused. Slowly, his gaze lifted upwards, to her, and his laugh grew louder. Jess had no idea what had set him off. Something she'd said? Could he read her confusion concerning him that easily?

"Whatever," she muttered, anger growing inside of her as he kept laughing quietly.

He wasn't being loud but she felt he was mocking her. Muttering about what a confusing asshole he was, Jess made a beeline for the door.

"Tell me, Jesster," the Joker said between giggles. She paused with her hand on the knob and looked back at him blankly, not allowing the annoyance or hurt she felt register on her face. "Are you comfortable here?"

Jess only had to think this over for a moment.

"For the most part," she answered honestly. "Yeah. I am."

The Joker chuckled again.

"How unfortunate," he said.

Jess sighed, opened the door, and left.