It was another party night. Apparently every night without a job was a party night.

Jess plopped down on the couch next to Blake and Logan and sipped a Vodka handed to her blindly by one of the men, looking around despite herself to see if maybe the Joker would stop by. But he didn't. He never did.

He'd given her a lot to think about today, and after their latest meeting Jess wasn't really in the mood to do anything besides sit alone and think or sleep. So, after finishing her drink, she stood up, bidding the men good night.

"Aw!" Blake exclaimed, already wasted. "We wanted you to dance on the tables!"

Jess frowned at him and Billy tackled him to the floor, laughing uproariously as they wrestled, both having a great time. Jess rolled her eyes but laughed despite herself, loving her men regardless of their quirks or weaknesses. She went, leaving them to their laughter and drinks, wondering even as she left why she wasn't using this excuse to get her mind off of him.

Because now all she'd be able to do was think.

When she arrived at her room, Jess plopped onto the cot, sighed and undressed for bed. She had been thinking about him a lot, she reflected. He was on her mind almost every time she had a quiet moment.

Now, this raised a lot of questions in itself.

Why wasn't she thinking more about her family and friends back home?

Why was she happier here at times than she'd ever been at home?

Why did she love the Lucky Twenty like she did?

And why--please God, why!?--was the Joker on her mind, day and night? Why couldn't he leave her alone?!

Everything she did, everything that happened, reminded her of him. Jesus, even peanut butter reminded her of him now, because since meeting him, Jess and peanut butter sandwiches had become best friends.

What did she want with him?

What did he want with her?

No.

No, what he wanted wasn't a mystery. He'd told her. She was here because she was the curve ball. So that was his twisted reasoning.

But why wasn't she trying harder to escape?

Jess had started crying without noticing it. Why wasn't she trying to escape? Why did she seem to actively seek him out? It was so weird! She'd always been outgoing--too forward and ready for conflict for her own good, really--but only a little while ago the prospect of becoming inescapably fixated on a criminal mastermind would have been laughable!

So what if he looked like Heath Ledger? There was no excuse.

Maybe if he hadn't been the Joker it would be different. He was her vice, her nightmare, her childhood monster who had haunted her dreams since she'd been old enough to understand the words in the comic books.

Perhaps if she hadn't already mentally elevated him to a status of near-god--or, near-devil as it were--she'd be less affected by him. If he'd been a nobody would she react like this?

Was she attracted to fame like that?

So much about herself, Jess didn't know. It was terrifying. She settled back into the cot, letting the tears drip down her face, sighed and fell asleep trying to wade through the mess that was her psyche.

The lights wouldn't turn on in the rec room.

Jess stood by the door to the dimly lit area, flicking the switch up and down and wondering if the bulb was out. She called for someone but her voice drifted lazily away and faded into silence. No one answered.

She really needed to watch TV, to find out if anything had happened with the Lucky Twenty since yesterday. No one was in the theater and no one had told her where they were going. They hadn't even bothered to wake her up. Jess grumbled angrily about how rude they were and flicked the switch again to no avail.

She stepped inside the room despite the darkness, wandering sightlessly towards where the TV had been carelessly left on the table, buzzing faintly on a grey channel. She found the remote and blindly clicked, landing on a news station almost immediately, watching the screen for a moment before she realized what she was seeing and her eyes grew wide in horror.

There, on the screen, tears running down their faces, were her mother, her father, her best friend Vanessa and… Billy.

"Jessica," her mother cried, pleading so hard she was shaking. "Please, please don't die. Please don't be dead."

"We know what you're doing," her father said, his voice cracking. "You're not supposed to be there!"

"Where are you?" Vanessa asked hysterically. "Is it home now?"

"Jess," Billy sighed. "Jess, come back from wherever you are. Come back to us. Don't let me lose you."

Jess blinked in confusion, backing hesitantly away from the flickering screen, not wanting to be near these people and their accusations but at the same time not wanting to be alone in the dark. As she moved further from them, their cries became louder, more desperate, but she could no longer hear the words. It was so dark. So cold.

She started to hyperventilate, unable to breathe, feeling no comfort in her body.

Nothing but darkness and dread.

And then, as it had come before, as though she'd heard it all her life, there was a quiet chuckle from behind her. She turned around sharply, the voices of the people on the screen fading away, those she loved leaving her…

Or maybe she was leaving them as she turned to face the dark form behind her.

He was laughing softly. The sound blended with the darkness, wrapping her up in it. She'd heard it before and it had always scared her, but this time…

This time it was sort of comforting.

It lifted her away from the vices and guilt that her loved ones offered her with their worries and pushed her somewhere deeper, somewhere remote from petty concerns.

She walked towards it, into his arms, feeling the soft cloth of his shirt covering his warm skin as though he was the only thing real here.

She rested her head against his chest and let him take her away in a rush of wind and stars and blood and laughter, not knowing, not caring where she was going.

They were flying over Gotham, the city a blur of lights beneath them and he leaned down to whisper into her ear:

"This is what I see. Will you see it, too?"

She would. She would always see it.

They stood on the top of a high building, the breeze whipping his curly hair in wild tangles from his head as he danced and laughed and ran along the edge of the building, careless of the long fall. Jess smiled, dazed, wrapping herself in his mood, hoping he'd never go away.

But as soon as she'd had that thought a dark shape barreled over her, knocking away her breath. She watched in horror and shock as the black mass leaped into the Joker, perched on the edge of the roof, and carried them both off the ledge.

Jess heard his laugh as he fell, excited even in death for the new experience. It rang in her ears, staying with her even when he was gone.

Her last part of him.

Jess woke up suddenly, tears flowing down her cheeks, her breath coming hard and ragged.

How awful!

Even now, the dream was fading. She couldn't remember why she was crying so hard.

Something terrible had happened. She'd lost someone she couldn't live without.

Billy?

Her mom?

Ah, but it was only a dream. Everything was okay. No one was lost.

Jess sniffed and rolled over, trying to gather herself and wiping the tears from her cheeks. The room was mostly dark, but a dim light spilled in through the hallway. Jess turned away from the wall, wondering why the door was open…

"Nightmare, Jesster?"

The Joker was leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly, as though watching someone sleep in the middle of the night was completely normal. Jess sat up abruptly, angry that he was here.

"Don't you ever sleep?" she asked, running a hand through her tangled hair.

The Joker only looked at her. She couldn't see him very well in this light, but it appeared as though most of his makeup was gone.

"What do you want, then?" she asked, wiping away the last of her tears.

The Joker pushed himself away from the wall and stepped casually towards her.

"Tell me about your dream, Jesster," he ordered softly, coming to stand right at the side of her cot, looking down at her. He wore only his long sleeved shirt with that strange hexagon pattern and his purple slacks. No tie. No vest. No jacket. His hair was not slicked back with grease but fell carelessly over his face. And she could see now that he was closer that his face had not a trace of makeup on it.

Christ.

His eyes, his nose, his mouth…

It was hard not to see that the man was beautiful, even with his scars. Sans makeup, one could actually see his features. Movie star worthy, really.

Not that that was surprising, given who played him in the movie.

And in this light, his hair looked almost like it was just dark blond. And…

And…

He was so young! How could someone who did what he did be so young?!

Jess looked away, frightened by the look of normality about him. She'd gotten rather used to him, she realized. The way he looked hadn't bothered her for a long time. Without the paint, it was different. It was not at all what she was used to.

She understood why he wore the makeup, why he played up his scars. If he didn't, no one would take him seriously. They'd pass him off as a kid.

Angel faces rarely inspired fear.

At least until he showed them what he could do.

Now, however, with the little gimmick his makeup presented, he made quite an impression right away.

"My dream…" Jess said, sighing. He wasn't going to leave, she knew, unless she gave him something. "Um… I dreamed about my mom and dad."

"Ah," the Joker said, looking at his nails. "That is cause for tears."

"They were on the news or…" she furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating on the fading dream. "Or… or something. And they were asking if I was dead. And then…" Jess shook her head. "There were stars. And a building and… and someone… someone died."

"Ah," the Joker whispered. "Anyone I know?"

Jess shrugged.

"I can't remember," she admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching him closely for any signs of movement. She hadn't gotten to the bottom of why he was here, after all.

"Too bad," he muttered, looking away from her. He took a deep breath and pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

This time, Jess saw the change. It was as though a shudder passed through his body and in a single second he went from passive and pensive to absolutely amused at something. A smile stretched his lips and when he looked back down at her, his eyes were shining with exhilaration.

"Jesster," he said, his voice on the edge of a giggle. "Jesster, Jesster, Jesster!"

He sat down on the cot at her feet and hit her legs a few times with his hands, drumming them in excitement. Then, he leaned forward and grasped both her knees, intent on telling her something that just made him giddy.

"So, I've been thinking…" he said, pausing to raise his eyebrows and look up, choosing his words. "About you. And about myself. About we."

He giggled. Jess raised her eyebrows.

"We?" she asked. "Can I remind you…"

The Joker cut her off, waving his hands in front of her face as though to banish her retort.

"I know what you're gonna say," he said, shaking his head. "There is no we. Hmm?" Jess nodded. "Tsk. Too predictable, Jess. You oughta work on that. No, what I mean is, I've been thinking about my affect on you. And, uh… vice versa. How we've changed each other. You did mention change, right?"

Not sure where he was going with this, Jess nodded, deciding to listen.

"And I've come to realize," the Joker said, shifting to make himself more comfortable, "that you and I… We…"

He reached out and grabbed her fists in his. Jess tried to pull away, startled by the contact, but he wouldn't have it.

"Hey," he said, gripping her hands tighter. "See, I'm your liberator. We've already established that. And it's not in the same way that I've liberated the rest of the Lucky Twenty. No. Not at all, Jess. Are you understanding me?"

Jess frowned and shook her head. He was jumping back and forth here and she couldn't really tell what he was trying to say. Also, she couldn't stop thinking about his hands around hers. She kept looking down at the paint and oil stained fingers, not sure whether she was attracted by them or repulsed. His sleeves were rolled up and she could see that his forearms--fantastic forearms, but she wouldn't think about that--were nicked and cut and burned.

"Y'know, you are the most difficult person in this theater," the Joker went on, catching her eyes and holding her gaze significantly. "If the, uh… If the rest of these little… criminals were as hard to control as you were, I'd be out of a job." He grinned. "Luckily, they're not. But you know something about you, Jess?"

"No," Jess said dryly. "Please, tell me all about myself, won't you, boss?"

The Joker burst into giggles.

"See?" he said, delighted. "See, that's… that's exactly what I'm talking about, here. You've got this kind of… thing. And, well, I can't tell if it's just stupidity or if you're a very courageous little girl."

"Would you rather I was boring?" Jess asked, a little bite in her tone. His hands were on hers. If he went for his knife, she'd have time to move. She hoped. "Would you prefer I was like all your other victims?"

"No, no, no, no," he said. "I don't want that at all, Jesster. You're so much more fun this way!"

Jess leaned forward, staring him dead in the eye.

"You like messing with me, don't you?"

The Joker leaned back, smiling casually.

"Oh, it's not just you, Jesster," he said.

Jess made a noise of disgust and ripped her hands away from him, sliding out of the cot. She felt vulnerable sitting down like that, and felt that standing at least she'd have the added advantage of running if he decided to go ape shit on her.

She was about to take a step nearer the door, fully intending on turning back to face him and continuing whatever conversation he wanted to have, when she felt his hands on her hips. Before she could react, he had pulled her backwards, down and almost onto him. Jess tipped clumsily and fell into his lap, scrambling over to the side as soon as she landed, not feeling good about this at all.

The Joker was giggling at her, obviously finding this very funny. Jess's legs were bare and the shorts she wore would hardly pass for much at the beach, so the fact that now her legs were making very close contact with him was extremely embarrassing. She slid to the side quickly, thinking of ways to get out of this, and turned her head to yell at him or something.

She found that his face was very close to hers and he was grinning maliciously, his fingers still clutching at her hips. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, not knowing what to do.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to sound strong but barely managing a whisper.

The Joker's hands slid up her torso slightly.

"I don't forget things," he whispered, still grinning. "It's not something I do, Jesster. And I expect you not to forget anything, either."

Jess shook her head, eyes wide.

"I won't forget anything," she said. "Whatever you say. I promise."

The Joker sighed. Jess was painfully aware of how physically intimate they were. Her legs were all but draped over his lower body and their faces were far too close for comfort.

"Promises," he said. "People make so many promises." He leaned closer, his lips less than an inch from hers. "Don't be so ordinary, Jess," he whispered. "It doesn't suit you."

And, grinning, he kissed her.

Jess pulled back immediately, breathing heavily.

"That's not supposed to happen," she rasped. "You're not supposed to do that."

The Joker let out a mad wail of laughter.

"I'm not supposed to?!" he asked hysterically. "Is this," he squeezed her hips, "not exactly what you had in mind when you came here? Am I ruining your little plans, Jesster? Am I spoiling your day?!"

"No, I mean..."

"Then why am I not supposed to, hmm?"

Jess shook her head, honestly having no idea. Getting out of this seemed impossible and on top of all of it, she wasn't even sure she wanted to!

"This is so messed up," Jess whispered, leaning forward to kiss him again.

Their lips met firmly and the Joker pushed a hand through her hair, pulling her head back by the blond roots and melding his mouth with her jaw line and neck. He was shaking, probably from excitement, and Jess closed her eyes, her hands clutching at his sleeves as he pushed her back onto the cot to lay down.

With a deep breath he climbed over her, kneeling up, his hands braced against the mattress above her shoulders, his knees settled on either side of her hips. He leaned back and Jess took the opportunity to study his bare face. He pushed his hair out of his face, one hand still tangled in her locks, and smiled, baring his teeth to her as though to say "Gotcha!"

The Joker kissed Jess again, warmly but a bit roughly.

Jess was surprised at how different he felt without the makeup. His lips seemed softer and there wasn't such definition of the scars where his paint usually settled into the bumps and cracks. She liked this better.

He deepened it, breathing as heavily as he usually did when he was doing something that thrilled him, making strangled groaning noises every so often.

Jess was totally captivated, totally turned on by this whole thing. He had settled on top of her. The hands that ran over her body were warm and forward, completely in control and whenever she did something he didn't like--like try to move into another position or kiss along his scars--he'd make an angry noise and tighten his grip on her painfully until she stopped trying.

And so it went.

Jess was lying on her bed around three o'clock in the morning, just sort of making out with the Joker himself.

And she was completely fine with that?

Well… Yes.

She was.

More than fine with it.

She fucking loved it.

He lived for the experience, for the ecstasy of danger and the rush of blood to the head. It shouldn't have been surprising that he'd like to do something like this.

He seemed to enjoy making her squirm in pain or tease her. Every time she gasped when he bit too hard or his hands lingered for too long near her waistband he'd chuckle and just keep going, careless of what she wanted. He took it all for himself, like always.

That wasn't to say he paid no attention to her. When his hands tried to slip up her shirt and she pushed them back down he didn't try again… though Jess wasn't sure she'd have stopped him again if he had.

Perhaps he knew that, and knowing so gave him more victory than acting like a teenaged boy and pushing for more could have.

She hated seeing him win, but there didn't seem to be many ways to do anything but facilitate it these days.

Jess wanted very badly to touch his face, his scars, to prove to herself that this was real and that it was actually the Joker who was kissing her, whose hands were sliding over her and whose body kept hers pinned against the bed.

She twisted her hands out of where he had trapped them in his behind her back as though simply to prove to her that he was the one with the power here.

Well. He couldn't have it all.

Jess pushed his ever-messy hair back and ran a finger down the side of his face, meeting the end of one of the scars at his cheekbone and tracing it back slowly, towards his mouth.

As soon as he felt what she was doing, the Joker stiffened and pulled away, grabbing her wrist angrily, his eyes burning. He threw her hand roughly on the bed, pushed against her shoulder to sit up, and climbed off without a word or a second chance.

Breathing heavily, Jess sat up after him, immediately sorry. He stood with his back to her and stretched his arms over his head, ran a hand through his hair to tame it and started for the door silently.

"Wait," Jess said, her shoulders slumped.

The Joker stopped, one hand on the doorframe, and turned back slowly to look at her. His eyes were still dark and looked livid. Jess's breath caught in her throat. She'd seriously pissed him off.

"I mean… That's it? You're just leaving?"

"You wanted something, Jesster?" he asked, his voice balanced softly on the edge of breaking. "What was that, exactly?"

Jess felt like she was going to cry. She'd almost forgotten how cruel he was.

"Please stay," she whispered, not sure how she'd be able to sleep now.

The room seemed so much colder without him. The Joker turned back towards the hallway and laughed softly.

"You're asking me," he said, "to stay?"

"Yeah," Jess said.

The Joker chuckled again, his head dropping and his shoulders shaking in mirth, but the laugh was bitter. He brought a hand to his face to wipe at his eyes, watering from his laughter.

"Night, Jesster," he laughed.

No! Jess could not let tonight end like this!

She jumped out of bed as he started to walk out of the door, catching him by the shoulder in the hallway, turning him around forcibly and kissing him roughly, grabbing around his neck.

The Joker stepped back in surprise, his hands poised to push her off but never quite going through with it.

She opened her eyes to look up into his, finding them wide open and staring down at her in amusement.

She broke the kiss immediately and found herself standing in front of him sheepishly, suddenly aware of the fact that she was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers. The Joker tilted his head at her, eyebrows raised as though he expected her to speak.

"Um…" Jess muttered, "Yeah. So… good night?"

The Joker laughed.

"Sure, Jesster," he said, turning away to walk off down the hallway. "Sure."

Blushing furiously, Jess slumped back into her room, feeling a mix of embarrassment, confusion and…

Oh God.

Complete bliss.