"That slimy bastard got away!" Joker roared, slamming his fist down onto a nearby table and rattling the medical tools, sending some to the floor.
"We'll get him, boss. You shot him. He'll probably slink into a hole for awhile and—" She could hear Frost try to calm him, but it took someone special to calm the Joker.
"I want him NOW!" Joker growled before Delilah faded back out of consciousness.
"What's taking so damn long!?" Joker grabbed a fistful of the doctor's jacket, leaning down into the man's face.
"I— I'm working as fast as I can. I've got the bullet out and the bleeding is stopped. I just need to—" the doctor stuttered. He was a nervous wreck. There he had been, walking to his car at the end of his shift, just wanting to get home to his recliner and the ball game. Then before he knew it, he was thrown into the back of a limo and told to treat a young lady for a gunshot wound.
"Stitch her back up, doctor," Joker's voice fell to a threatening growl. "Or I will rip that spine of yours right through your back."
Everything seemed to be a dream as Delilah went in and out of consciousness, aware of what was going on around her but not being able to move or say anything. But now she let out a pained groan as she tried to sit up only to be met by a burning pain in her side.
"Now, now, angel," a familiar voice rasped. "You need to lie back."
Blinking her eyes repeatedly, she squinted until they finally found electric green-haired man she had expected. "What happened?" she asked in a scratchy whisper. Taking in her unfamiliar surroundings she found more questions arising. "Where am I?"
The walls were painted a rich shade of dark gray with some elegant looking wood embellishments painted in the same color to add some flair. All the furniture was black including the sheets on the bed — satin, as if she had expected anything less. Around the room were accents of gold and bright green. There was a intricately designed golden mirror hanging on the wall to her right above a black dresser. A warm, cherry wood flooring added a bit of warmth to the room. What caught her attention the most was the rather large painting that hung above the back of the bed. It looked to be around 40"x48" and it was quite striking. It was mainly white with big expressionistic black brush strokes with splashes of electric green. If you looked at it just right it almost looked like a large grin. There was so much emotion in it that Delilah was immediately drawn in, wanting to solve its hidden puzzle. There was now no doubt in her mind whose bed she was now lying in…
"Like that, do you?" Mr. J came to sit at the side of the bed, a glass of water in his hand. Holding it out for her to take, he said, "Drink."
The cool water soothed her throat instantly and she hummed in delight. "Thank you. And yes… I do. It's very… complex." Like its owner… her eyes found his steel blues and she saw something there… something new. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but if she had to guess, she would say confusion. "So what happened?"
His eyes fell to her abdomen. "One of Yakavetta's men shot you," he growled. "Seems he thought it would be funny. But in the end… he was the punchline." Delilah bit her lip, knowing the man had definitely been taken care of. "We found a doc who was kind enough to volunteer and he fixed you up. All shiny and new again."
It was all a bit hazy but Delilah faintly remembered hearing Joker threatening the doctor. For someone who hadn't seemed to care about putting her in a dangerous situation, he had sure seemed to care about getting her all fixed up. "Can I ask you something?"
A wide humored grin spread on hips lips. "You just did. But I guess you may have another shot."
"Why didn't you just let me die back there? Why go through the trouble to keep me alive?"
Placing his smile tattooed hand across her mouth, he said, "You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a decent bartender in this city."
Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand down from her face. His smile left his face at the feeling. "What's the real reason? From what I've heard about you, I would've guessed I would be back there rotting with the rest of Yakavetta's men and yet here I am… in your home."
"Maybe I'm just not done playing with my fun new toy." He rocked his head side to side with each word.
"And what happens when you are?" she asked, not sure if she wanted the answer even though she had a feeling she already knew.
"Enough with all these pesky questions," he said, twirling his fingers in the air. "I'm going to have Frost snag us some food. I'm famished."
Fortune had apparently been on Delilah's side as far as where the bullet had hit her. Just another inch to the right and it would've done significantly more damage. Simply muscle had been penetrated and it had been nearly a week and a half since she had been brought to the Joker's mansion to recover. It was such beautiful place. She couldn't keep herself from exploring. Every room was a beautiful as the last, but there was still one that she hadn't gotten to see. On her way to check it out, Frost had stopped her. 'Boss wouldn't like you being in there,' he had said. Of course he wouldn't… he wouldn't be The Joker if he didn't have something secret in his own home. Naturally, that made her all the more curious.
As for Mr. J, well he hadn't been around much. She saw him here and there, but he was usually gone throughout the day and she had yet to see him sleep in his own bed. Delilah hoped he wasn't avoiding it because of her but deep down she knew he probably didn't get much sleep anyway. Even more so now since Yakavetta had escaped alive. Joker was hell bent on remedying that.
Truth be told, she kind of missed having him around. Being in this massive house by herself was making her feel extremely lonely. Sure, she lived alone before but at least then she was going to work. She'd get to see all the undesirables that frequented Grin and Bare It and be reminded why she liked to hole up in her apartment away from the darkness of the world. Even growing up she was generally by herself. Most of the kids would tease her about not having any parents, not knowing or caring how deep their words cut. There were many a night that she would have curled up in bed and cry herself to sleep over something long lost — something she couldn't do a thing about.
Her eyes stared out through the window of Mr. J's room into the surrounding trees as she fought to think about something else. Preferably a happier subject. However, that was more easily said than done. Crossing her arms over her chest, she took a deep calming breath as she closed her eyes. The muscles in her neck were all knotted from all the stress and she rolled her head around in an attempt to work them out. When she opened her eyes again, she froze. They locked onto something on the dresser to her left. How could she have not noticed it before?
There right in the open sat a gold plated handgun with black grips. Questions rang through her mind all at once. Is it loaded? Why in the hell is it just sitting there? He trusts me enough to leave it here for me to take? I wonder if this is the same kind of gun that shot me… Reaching a shaking hand out, she let her fingers glide over the barrel, feeling the coldness of it's surface. A mix of fear and strength flowed through her, thinking back to her injury.
"It's not nice to play with someone else's toys without permission."
Delilah jumped and spun to find Mr. J leaning against his door frame, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm— I'm sorry. I was just getting ready to go to bed and—"
Crossing the room to her, he lifted the bottom of her shirt, obviously not caring about any personal space bubbles. He held it up just high enough to check on her healing wound. The doctor had been by this week and had removed her stitches, saying that everything looked great. He even gave her the all clear to go back to work, but Frost had said the Boss wanted her to rest a few more days. So rest she did… but now she was dying to get back to work. His cool eyes lifted to hers. Dropping her shirt, he snatched up the gun, pulling the ammo clip out to reveal it was in fact loaded. He must trust me or not think I have the guts to try to take him out, she thought. Turning away from her, he said, "I suppose you're going to tell me you're done. Getting shot did you in. You want out." His tone was almost mocking, but secretly he just hoped he was wrong.
"That's what I should say, but—" she stopped short, biting her lip and wringing her hands.
"Spit it out, angel," he growled, growing impatient.
"It's just— It's crazy but after everything, I feel… empowered." He slowly turned to face her once more, clearly intrigued. She went on, "I mean, I survived that and I was terrified as hell. I should be terrified of guns now, but I have to say… I feel stronger. Maybe it's stupid."
His lips spread into a wide, humored grin as if he had been right about something all along. "She likes the darkness."
Delilah shook her head. "I didn't say that—"
"You can't lie to me," he pointed at her, stepping closer. "I see it in your eyes. You like the thrill, the danger,… the power. You want more. You crave it."
Silence. With every word she spoke, she found it harder and harder to deny it. Something inside of her knew he was right, but she didn't want to admit it. Admitting it would mean that she was becoming one with this world more and more each day.
Extending a hand out to her, he offered her a choice, something that was completely out of his nature. "If you truly can't handle it then leave. Just go and don't look back, but if you can, then stay. But to stay means you are here for good. You're one of us."
"You mean, you'd let me leave?" she raised an eyebrow, not sure if this was some sort of trick or not.
"This is a one time offer, dear. Many people before you haven't been given the same opportunity." He paused. His voice dropping to a low rumble, he said, "So what do ya say? Leave and never see any of us again or stay and join us to test your limits, to grow. Think this over carefully." Again biting at her lower lip, she stared down at his hand as she thought over his proposition. Wagging his finger back and forth, he said, "Tick, tock, tick, tock."
Making the decision that would change her life forever, her hand slowly slipped into his. His fingers wrapped around hers, jerking her over to him, pressing her up against himself. His steel eyes stared down into her ocean blues. "Now you're mine."
Maybe it was the feeling of surrender, this darkness he seemed to see inside of her, or the way he did certain things that made her feel like he cared… she didn't know, but something gave her the courage to do what she did next. Her free hand flashed up to the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his electric green hair as she pulled him down to her. Their lips crashed together in a hungry kiss and she felt him smile against her lips. His chest rumbled with a low groan as he pushed her back against the wall, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tilting her head back, he sent flashes of pleasure through her as he trailed kisses down her neck. She grabbed a hold of her shirt, stopping his kisses just long enough to pull it up over her head. Following suit, he jerked on his own, sending buttons popping off in every direction before clattering to the floor. The feeling of his cold hands rubbing up her sides to her black lace bra made goosebumps pop up all up her arms and legs. Stepping back, Joker pulled at her shorts, letting them fall to her ankles. Delilah kicked them off to the side and let out a surprised yip as he wrapped her legs around his waist. She remained pinned to the wall as his hands wandered back to the clasp of her bra. Throwing it off to the side, he pinned her arms up above her head, taking in the sight of her. "Mmm… my little angel…"
His lips were back on hers in an instant and she began pushing her hips closer to his. The fabric of his dress pants causing a teasing friction against her lace underwear. Not letting go of her, Joker moved them towards the bed, throwing her back onto the cool satin sheets. Her chocolate brown hair fell in waves over her shoulders, covering most of her breasts as she stared shyly up at him. His eyes never left her as he worked on his belt, removing his own pants before moving to strip her of her last remaining piece of clothing.
The moonlight shone through the same window she had been staring through earlier, giving his pale skin a menacing glow as he hovered over her. "You ready for me, angel?" he asked seductively, rubbing himself against her slick core. All it took was the small nod of confirmation before he slammed inside of her.
Clutching at the sheets, she let out a satisfied moan as her body quickly adjusted to him, giving way for that sinfully delicious pleasure. "Oh, my God," she breathed, her breath hitching with every thrust.
Joker smirked, thrusting into her harder, loving the way her legs tightened around him as she held on for the ride of her life.
Delilah scratched her fingers down his back, wanting to reach that point of release. The pain caused by her nails digging into his back only seemed to please him even more. She should've known he liked to mix pleasure with pain. Not her, but every single movement by him gave her nothing but pleasure, pushing her closer and closer to her edge. She had never been with anyone who pushed all the right buttons like this before.
"Come for me, baby," he growled into her ear and that was all it took. His words brushing against her skin sent her careening into bliss. Her body stiffened around him and as she enjoyed her high she felt him do the same, emptying himself inside of her before rolling off. Both laid catching their breath in silence before Joker pulled her back against him, wrapping a protective arm around her as they swiftly fell asleep.