I awoke feeling tired with a pounding headache, one that was twice as bad as the usual. I felt a soft blanket underneath me so I had to be lying down, but even like that, it seemed like the world was rotating around me, making me feel nauseous. When I opened my eyes, I cried out and immediately shut them, slapping my arm over them to block out as much light as possible.

Nearby, I heard a soft chuckle, and I groaned. Of all people I wanted to deal with while I was hung-over…

"How yah feelin', Sha-dow?"

"Sick," I replied.

"No surprise with how much you drank last night." The Joker giggled, and I turned my head away from him, wishing he would go away. "C'mon, sit up. I've got aspirin."

Reluctantly, I pushed myself up, still keeping my eyes closed. The Joker placed two aspirin in my hand, and I popped them in, nearly choking. I opened my eyes again, enough to see that the Joker was also holding out a glass of water for me to drink. As I took it from him, he placed a hand on my forehead and said, "At least your fever's gone. How, I wouldn't know." I guzzled my water, washing down the pills.

"What happened last night?" I asked as I held out the empty glass.

"You don't remember?" he asked, smirking.

I looked at him, seeing his amusement, and then sharply said, "No! Please don't tell me we had-!"

"Oh, no-no-no-no-no!" the Joker cut me off before I could finish, waving his hands violently. "I really don't dig drunk women." He shifted uneasily in his chair and then said, "But you were headed in that direction."

"I was? Oh great…" I placed my face in my hands. I doubted the Joker was going to let me live this one down. I've never been drunk before, never dealt with a hangover the next day, never been close to a man while drunk. Oh, why did it have to be the Joker, of all people to be drunk around and have that involuntary want…

"So…what did happen last night?" I asked, wearily.

He shrugged carelessly. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to me," I snapped, rolling over to the edge of the bed. "I've never done something as stupid as what I did last night, whatever happened."

"You drank, if that helps."

"I know I drank, and boy, don't I regret it…" I moaned, clasping my head with a hand. "Fine, keep your secrets to yourself, Joker. I'm going to take a shower." I stood up and nearly fell over, but managed to grab hold of the nightstand on my side. "I got this," I murmured to myself as I bend down to reach my duffel bag underneath the bed. Without looking at him, I slid my hand along the wall as I went about the room toward the bathroom.

When I came out with my damp hair hanging free, dressed in everyday clothing – rather than my outfit – I was surprised that the Joker appeared to be waiting for me. He sat on the end of our shared bed, head bowed and hands clasped together, fingers entwined. I stood in the doorway, unsure of whether or not he was in deep thought or if he was sleeping, he was so still.

Then, the Joker lifted his head, and I saw that his eyes looked slightly bloodshot. "I found you at My Alibi, the nightclub that no longer exists," he said slowly.

I blinked as an image of the explosion flashed in my mind. "I remember," I said. "I pushed the button…" Guilt gradually crept inside me, slowly spreading, and I had to lean against the doorframe for support. "I wasn't thinking straight…"

The Joker stood up and sauntered toward me. I couldn't meet his eyes, but he cupped my chin and forced me to look up. His tongue traced over his lips before he said, "You make a great partner, Shadow. I couldn't have found anyone better. Even if you are determined to be stubborn about your true nature."

"I'm not like you," I said, jerking my head out of his grasp. "I don't want to be. I've been forced into the life of a criminal; I had the choice later, but by then, I wouldn't have been able to handle being kept in an orphanage or a private school. I had lost the sense of who I was. There was no turning back, after all that had happened."

"You didn't let me finish," the Joker stated, and I closed my mouth, watching him cautiously. He shifted as he rested a hand higher up on the doorframe, over my head. He looked up at his hand as his tongue traced his lower lip. I waited for him to snap, to say something, anything, but he remained silent, focused on his hand.

"You think…" I began, trying to prompt him, "That I'm a good partner."

"I said great partner," he corrected me, his eyes instantly darting to mine. He cleared his throat as he shifted his weight again, holding eye contact. "We've been working together for how long? Over a month? Seems too short of a time, but I feel like we've known one another for a great deal longer."

There was a mysterious gleam in his eyes that I didn't understand. We weren't standing as close as we usually stood to one another, but I could hear my uneven breathing. My eyes dropped lower than his, and I noticed how his chest was heaving. Vaguely, I realized that mine was too.

"Why…why did you go to talk to Jason?" he asked, his voice quiet, unsure, cautious.

I couldn't meet his eyes. I tried to walk past him, and he let me. I wanted to leave, but he grabbed my arm when he realized I was headed for the door. In a flash, he threw me onto the bed, where I landed quietly on my back, trying to scramble away from him. He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes narrowed slightly with confused fury.

"I told you," I said, my voice on the verge of cracking in fear. "I wanted to know why-."

"He's been here longer than you have, Shadow," the Joker growled, dangerously. "How do I know that you aren't in league with him? Your ex-boyfriend? Don't make me laugh." He crawled onto the bed, his eyes sharply intent on me.

"How can I have known?" I asked, moving away from him slowly compared to how he was approaching me. "I swear, I didn't know he was here in Gotham City. Otherwise, I would have gone somewhere else. He was the last man I was expecting to find here."

The Joker jumped forward, knocking me flat on my back, and he hovered over me, on his hands and knees. His eyes burned into mine until I managed to tear mine away. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look back at him.

His tongue traced his scarred mouth, his eyes focused on mine. I could only wait for him to decide what to do with me. My fear of him wouldn't let me move, or look away. I just couldn't.

The Joker narrowed his eyes slightly, and then, to my surprise, released my chin as he said quietly, "You must still…love him, don't you?"

That made me angry. "You think I love him?" I demanded, coldly. "After what he did to me? Broke my heart and then threw me away like I was trash? That bastard doesn't deserve to live!"

"Then why did you stop me from hurting him?" the Joker asked, his tone hard.

I had opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't find the words to explain what I did before. I could only say, "I hate him, more than I could possibly hate anyone else."

"I have a theory…that under all the hate you feel towards Hawk-ins, you really do still love him. You say how much you despise him, but you won't admit how much you love him." The Joker traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. "Don't deny it, Shadow. You still love Jason, no matter how much you hate him."

I turned my head away, gazing off to the side. He was right, of course. Under the burning rage, I tried to hide the fact that I still loved Jason, despite his betrayal, despite how he had tried to kill me. Even after four years, my feelings for him had not diminished.

"Maybe I do still love him," I said quietly. I turned my head to meet his eyes. "What are you going to do about it?"

I had expected that to derail him, to throw him off his game. I knew of his feelings for me, knew of my own feelings for the crazy clown. And now, I had emotions conflicting inside me, for whom my love truly belonged to: the Police Lieutenant who had betrayed me or the Clown Prince of Crime, my partner-in-crime…

The Joker took my chin again, gently this time, his brown eyes turning soft. I couldn't help but wish for nothing but to simply stare into those brown orbs and lose myself in them. Because of Jason, old wounds had opened inside me, and I was becoming overwhelmed with sorrow and pain. Despite having cried my last tears, the pain had not disappeared.

I wanted to be distracted; I didn't want to face my inner pain.

I continued to stare into the Joker's eyes, realizing that he was leaning in carefully, slowly as if not to scare me. In my chest, my heart began to pound furiously, and as he drew closer, I could feel his body heat radiating off him. His scent – the smell of sweat, explosives, and…madness – rolled over me, overwhelming me and dimming my senses to anything else but him.

The tentative touch of the Joker's scarred lips sent shivers through me, but they weren't of revulsion. Instinctively, I tried to push him away, but his hands caught mine, pressing them down on either side of my head. I couldn't struggle; I felt like I needed this. I wanted a distraction, any kind of distraction, even if it was the Joker who was providing it.

The kiss deepened as the Joker's hands released mine. I slid my hands up his torso, over his shoulders, along his neck, and into his hair, pulling him closer to me. He lifted a hand to my face, stroking it as our lips parted. Our tongues worked together perfectly, magically.

We parted for breath and then came back together, crushing our noses together as we grew aggressive. I slid my hands from his curly green hair and down his neck. He smiled into the kiss, the movement of his rough scars sending waves of energy through me.

My hands made their way down his muscular chest where I unbuttoned his vest. Our lips parted, but his lips never left my skin. He traced kisses on my cheek, along my jaw, down my neck. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips as I tore his vest off him, beginning on the buttons of his hexagonal shirt.

Abruptly, the Joker tore away from me; his hands removing mine from his shirt and pushing them back down on the bed. I stared at him in confusion, breathing heavily, not understanding why he had broken away from me.

Conflicting emotions swirled in his brown depths as he stared at me. His tongue flickered out over his scarred lips, his bottom lip trembling slightly. His breathing was uneven, heavy like mine from the action.

"You…you don't…want to be…doing this, Shadow," the Joker panted breathlessly as he released my hands.

"Yes, I do," I protested, reaching for him. "I love you."

This time, he was rough as he grabbed my hands again, pushing them down, his grip vice-like. "No, you love the Joker, not me," he growled.

I didn't struggle against his painful grip, caught by his words, staring at him with bewilderment. "But…you're the Joker," I said, confused.

The Joker lifted his head, looking at the headboard of the bed, a cruel forced chuckle escaping his lips. "That's who I am, not who I used to be." He climbed off me and the bed swiftly, moving away as I propped myself up on my elbows.

"What does it matter?" I asked, uncertainly. "You were who you were in the past. You're who you are now. Does it really make a difference between you now and who you were then?"

"It does make a difference," the Joker responded, still moving away. He stopped where his vest lay discarded on the floor. "You'll hate me…for who I was."

"How can I hate you for who you were?" I asked, crawling to the end of the bed. "I didn't even know you before you were the Joker."

He twisted his body to look at me. The expression on the Joker's face struck cold fear into me.

Disbelief overwhelmed me. "So…you knew me…all this time?" I asked, quietly.

The Joker turned away, ashamed as he said clearly, "Ever since your first night in Gotham…Sara."

My eyes widened as the Joker turned back to me, a hunched menacing figure despite having his hexagonal shirt open, revealing his muscular chest.

He stared at me with lifeless brown eyes, his Glasgow smile appearing gradually. The slow transformation scared me, but I braced myself against the truth of who the Joker was.

The man underneath the makeup…

The Joker licked his lips and turned his head to the side, widening his eyes slightly as he watched me. "There was a boy, four years older than you who befriended you back in middle school," he said, "Who became your only best-ah friend. Despite being four years older, he was only two grades higher because his fa-ther kept him back." My mouth went dry as my mind slowly registered the Joker's words. "This boy cher-ished you," he continued, narrowing his eyes. "Would get into fights to pro-tect you. He would give up any-thing, just to be with you. He rarely left your side, and was always there to keep you from doing anything…irrational.

"Then, the boy disappeared mys-ter-iously," the Joker continued, "During his freshman year of high school, you were in seventh grade. No one knew what happened or why he had left, but he hurt you by leaving you without even a simple good-bye; he didn't take the time to lie." The Joker sauntered over toward the bed where I slowly scrambled away from him, cringing as my mind clicked together the pieces.

The Joker halted upon reaching the bed, and he slowly chewed on the inside of his cheek. "The last time you saw him, the last thing you remember, was the night you studied History with him, trying to, ah, to make sure he didn't fail the class 'cause he simply didn't have any in-terest…In. The. Past."

I scrambled for scattered conversations between us, between me and the Joker. He had hinted to things, left clues for me to find, to gather, and to analyze. I had never bothered to do what he thought I would do. I had paid no attention to his hints. All this time, it had been so obvious that I couldn't have figured it out.

The memory of seeing the Joker's past memory of him and the young man returned, and it suddenly clicked. I knew who the young man was.

The Joker leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the bed, his eyes boring into mine. "Say it, Sara," he whispered. "Say it…"

I knew what he wanted me to say.

He had told me before, during what he called my "job interview", that he wouldn't kill me unless he revealed his real name. Now, with all the hints that suddenly clicked in my mind and made sense, and with the story he told me about my best friend…it was so obvious. I knew the Joker's name, I knew who he was and who he is. He was trying to avoid fulfilling his promise to kill me if he told me his name. The only way to avoid that was for me to find what his name was, to speak it aloud.

Yet, I couldn't make myself do it.

I didn't want to say it because that would be that I've accepted who he was and who he used to be. I couldn't do that to the Joker, to my best friend. If I said his name, I would shatter my image of who he used to be, and I couldn't do that. I had clung to the hope that he was still who he used to be for twelve years; I had hoped to find him and see that he had not changed much.

Now, I find myself confronted with the boy who I had befriended back in middle school. He wasn't who he used to be, and because he had subtly told me what happened to him with his scar stories, I knew why he became the Joker.

I collapsed backwards onto my back, closing my eyes tightly as it dawned on me that I was left with a painful decision…to either speak the Joker's true name or to let him tell me and have him kill me.

The bedroom seemed too quiet, despite my uneven breathing and the beating of my heart that threatened to burst from my chest. I remained lying on my back, my arms fallen lifeless out to the sides. I kept my eyes sealed shut, wishing to simply fall into darkness.

"Shadow…" The sound of his voice, I found myself breathing softer, simply to hear him. There was no hint of anger or sadness in his voice, just patience for a response, yet I didn't give him one.

I felt the end of the bed near my feet sink, and I lifted my eyelids enough to see through my eyelashes, enough to see that the Joker had climbed onto the bed. He crawled slowly over me, keeping me trapped underneath him as the bed moved when he shifted his weight. When all I could see without moving my head was his muscular chest showing through his open shirt, I closed my eyes again.

I listened to the Joker's breathing, and I thought I could hear something like the beating of his heart, but I could've been imagining it.

"Shadow?" the Joker said, his tone curious. When I didn't respond, he repeated my name. "Sha-dow?"

"Jo-ker?" I said, mimicking him.

He chuckled softly, and then leaned closer to me so that I could feel his breath on my neck as he whispered into my ear, "What-ah is my name, Sara Rey-nolds?"

I hesitated, wetting my trembling lips, and then said, "Jack Napier."

As the Joker moved away, I opened my eyes, meeting his as a grin formed on his face. "Was that hard, Shadow?" the Joker asked me, his eyes alit with excitement.

I stared at him, impassively, which confused him. "You don't know what I just did, Jack," I said, my voice shaky. "You're not who you used to be. I can't accept this…yet you…you forced me to. I didn't think you'd become someone like this, Jack." My eyes stared to blur, and I blinked harshly, trying to fight the urge to cry.

I reached up and touched the Joker's scars lightly. He flinched away from my touch, startled, but I tried again, caressing the rough skin. He closed his eyes and sighed as I traced my finger back and forth along his scarred smile. I continued to feel the rough tissue of his scars, making my fingertips tingle. The Joker's reaction to my delicate touch revealed the startling affect on him.

He relaxed, his hunched shoulders slumping and his head dripping low and to the sides as if to guide where he wanted my fingers to touch his scars. On either side of my head, his hands slowly grabbed fistfuls of the blanket as his body shivered with pleasure. I slid a finger along his right scar, over his lips, and up his left scar, remembering the story behind each scar.

Then, the Joker opened his eyes, and his infamous Glasgow smile appeared on his face. "I'll admit that I hadn't expected such…ac-cep-tance from you, Shadow," he said, turning his head and nuzzling my hand like a puppy. Some of his hair fell in his face as he jerked his head.

A small smile stretched its way across my lips. He thought everything was okay, believed that I had accepted who he was and who he is. The situation was so…similar to Jason and me. And I was reacting the same…way.

Roughly, hands on his chest, I shoved him off me, nearly throwing him off the bed entirely. I jumped off the bed and ran for the door. I managed to turn the doorknob and start to pull it open, but then a switchblade flew and stuck into the doorframe beside my head.

Angered, I spun around, glaring daggers at the Joker as he stood mere feet away from me. "Ac-cep-tance?" I asked, mocking his tone. "You expect me…to accept what you did…" A growl emanated from the back of my throat. "You're just. Like. Jason."

"I'm not," the Joker argued, matching my angry tone. "No, I'm not." He sauntered towards me, halting when he was right up close. Reaching beside my head, he grabbed the handle of his switchblade but didn't try pulling it out. Looming into my face, he said, "I told you…you would hate me if you knew. You'd blame me for leaving you, twelve years old, alone. Don't try blaming me for the return of your real father."

"I wasn't," I said, coldly, my eyes narrowed. "I just blame you. Who I knew as Jack Napier is dead. All that's left behind is an empty shell who cares nothing about the world around him."

His free hand came and smashed into the door on the other side of my head, yanking out his switchblade at the same time. Even as rage flashed across his eyes, I didn't flinch, my own anger keeping fear at bay.

"No, let me rephrase that," I said. "You're not an empty shell. You're a crazy mass-murderer."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't give him the chance.

"It doesn't matter who you were in the past! What you were like is dead, Joker! You hear me, DEAD! My best friend no longer exists because you killed him! You bastard!" I struck him, hitting his jaw and causing him to stumble to the side. As he turned back to face me, I saw that the Joker's face had become livid, and there was blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

At the sight of the blood, I realized that this scene was familiar. I had been through it before, not with Jason, but with the Joker. I tried locating where I had seen it before, but I couldn't before the Joker snapped.

He threw himself at me, pressing me hard against the wall, trapping me so that I couldn't move anything. We leered at one another, both shaking with fury. My knuckles hurt from clenching my fists so hard, but I didn't relax, trembling with the little control I had. The Joker leaned his face close to mine. Being so close, I could feel his intense body heat that had risen with his anger.

"Call me…a bastard…one more time," the Joker growled, rolling his switchblade in his hand.

I glared with absolute hatred. I opened my mouth to say it, and then stopped, recognizing where I had seen this scene before.

I had dreamt it. It had been the same night that I had told him that I chose him over Dean. The Joker had told me the real version of his first scar, about his crazy stepmother and his father who enjoyed watching his son get beaten by his second wife. I pinched my eyes closed, remembering in my dream, that if I called the Joker a bastard one more time, he ended up killing me.

I had dreamt the future.

When I opened my eyes, the Joker was still seething with anger, waiting for my response. I took a deep breath, releasing my rage, and said quietly, "I forgive you."

That derailed him, sending him into a sudden change of emotion, from fury to confusion. "What?" he said, his tone confused.

"I forgive you," I repeated. "You were right, back in the car when you asked me your question. You didn't say anything about it, but I'm pretty sure it was on your mind at the time…whether or not I hated you for leaving me like that." I hung my head. "I suppose I did hate you, but I tried to think that you had a reason. I think I know the reason now, but I'm not sure." I lifted my head, meeting his eyes, as I reached up with a hand and touched one of his scars.

He flinched at the sudden touch, but didn't move away as I traced it to the corner of his mouth. "I just wish…you had told me earlier," I said, quietly.

"I told you," the Joker said, "If I told you my name, I'd kill you."

"No, you wouldn't."

"Dare to try me?" Ever though he was threatening me, I didn't care for it.

"Why didn't you tell me before you made that…bind? I would have-."

"Hated me all the same, possibly more." The Joker chewed on the inside of his cheek as he shifted his weight, his eyes rising to the wall. "I had to earn your trust first, so that you'd trust my words, rather than lose your head."

"I did though."

"I think it would've been that way, no matter what happened." He lowered his head so that it was almost even height with mine as our gazes locked. "You thought you'd never see your best friend again, yet I'm standing right here, right before your eyes." He licked his lips and asked, "Doesn't that make up for what I did, just now?"

"I don't know," I said, honestly, breaking eye contact. His hand lifted to grab my chin, but I grabbed it gently, pulling it down beside me. The other one, that still held his switchblade, rose beside my head, and he rested his forearm against the wall, waiting for my explanation.

I didn't give one, feeling at a loss for words. I just gently swung my hand, still clasped with the Joker's, our fingers intertwined. With my head bowed slightly, a strand of hair fell into my face, but I flipped it back with a toss of my head. "You know, you're a jerk."

He blinked, surprised as strands of hair fell into his face. "Why am I the jerk?" he asked, amused. "Just because I was afraid of you."

I scoffed as I brushed the Joker's green hair out of his face. "Don't make me laugh. You, the Joker, afraid of the likes of me. That's outrageous."

The Joker chuckled softly as he leaned in closer, his hot breath mingling with mine. "Everyone has a fear, Shadow. I'm not so low that I lack one." I smiled at that, ducking my head down again, but when I lifted it, the grin faded.

The Joker became quiet, the laughter gone from his eyes. His tongue darted out to the corner of his mouth, touching a scar as his eyes darted about my face. He didn't lock gazes with me as he slowly moved in, his scarred mouth barely brushing mine.

Just a simple touch and he pulled away, still very close, before he came back in to brush lips with me again.

My heart pounded furiously in my chest as he continued to tease me. It's very hard for me to forgive someone who had done something to hurt me; that someone was usually lucky if I simply remained neutral and acted as though nothing had happened. Having forgiven him, I unlocked the door I had hid my feelings for him behind, and now, knowing who he really was, those feelings intensified.

The only thing that annoyed me was that now, he was playing with me, teasing my love for him, just waiting for me to snap.

He brought his lips close, but with barely a millimeter between, he stopped, trying to keep from laughing. "How long…can you control yourself, Shadow?" he whispered. I could see the amusement in his eyes, could hear it in his tone. "Keep holding yourself back and you'll, ah, explode."

"And I'm sure you'll enjoy watching that," I retorted, stiffly.

He leaned his head back, overcome with amused laughter.

I couldn't take it anymore. With my free hand, I grabbed his necktie, twisted it around my hand, and then pulled him towards me, bringing him to me so I could press my lips against his. His mouth moved with mine gracefully, and when we separated for breath, he said, "Congratulations, Shadow; you've finally caught me off guard."

"Never said I was finished with you yet," I mocked him before pulling him back.

The only sounds in the room were our heavy breathing and our lips working together with graceful synchronization. Our clasped hands let go, and I wrapped my free arm around his neck, leaning into him. He dropped his switchblade and placed both hands on my sides, resting them there for a few seconds before sliding them down and under my thighs.

He picked me up, pressing me higher up the wall. For more support, I encircled my legs around his torso as I released his tie and wrapped my other arm around his neck.

We broke apart again, foreheads pressed together, and I couldn't help the laughter that slipped through my lips. The Joker joined me, the chaotic laughter being contagious. Our eyes met, and we seemed to communicate telepathically.

The Joker carried me over to the bed and simply dropped me on it. I giggled as I bounced on my back, outstretching my arms toward him. He kicked off his shoes, tore off his tie, and then leaped onto the bed, trapping me underneath him.

I fell silent as I saw the serious gleam in his eyes. He stared at me. I stared back. The silence only lasted about five seconds before I laughed at the puppy look he flashed me, and the Joker joined me, placing his hands on the sides of my face. He cut off our laughter by pressing his lips to mine, passionately. As our mouths moved aggressively, like our lives depended on it, our hands moved, undressing by degrees, our clothing falling discarded on the floor.

I won't go into explicit detail. It was truly one of my most memorable times with Jack Napier.

That's all anyone needs to know.

Lordlink13: Whoa! Joker and Shadow are official! Makes me happy, even though I might have scared some readers away. *calls* COME BACK!