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70. Dangerous Game

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Disclaimer: Sorry for the cliffie and then not updating! I was on a vacation con mia famiglia! BUT I am back and updating! Thank you so much for the reviews and reading the story! I am so grateful you are all willing to stick with the story—it's so long! I'd love to his 100 chapters haha! As for what Giada looks like, definitely check out what CuberFTW suggested, I think those actresses can work for what she looks like. I think that perhaps Giovanna Antonelli is also a very good representation. But then again, she is however you want her to look, really. I actually really like the look of Giada De Laurentiis too, so maybe check her out too! The only thing to really remember about Giada is that she is not very tall—she's probably maximum, 5'3'' on a good day with heels and she has dark curly hair and has that traditional beautiful olive skin of southern Italy. Anything else about her is really up to your imagination! The lyrics and the title are from a song called "Dangerous Game" from the show Jekyll and Hyde. Take a listen—it's perfect for Giada and the Joker! Enjoy!

At the touch of your hand,

At the sound of your voice,

At the moment your eyes meet mine

I am losing my mind, I am losing control,

Fighting feelings I can't define

The Joker's Glasgow grin was wide with anticipation of my arrival. I couldn't even feel the pain from my scar on my cheek as my jaw hung nearly to the floor. I was utterly shocked and completely incapable of speaking a single word. I tried desperately to find my voice with breath I just didn't seem to have; I was speechless. My heart fluttered with an old excitement, but my stomach was churning in horror. How the hell did he find me?! I had gone home to Boston for a little mental R&R. His surprise appearance certainly would not help with that, especially since I hadn't a clue as to why he came—or how he found me.

His eyes were dark and intense as he stared hard at me. His hand glided his hand across then bed and then patted the surface, indicating for me to join him. I blinked my eyes hard, making sure that he was actually there. When they opened again, and he hadn't vanished, I felt my blood begin to boil. All shock and horror had vanished, and all that remained was my Italian fury. My upper lip curled over my teeth as I drew in a fierce breath.

"How the hell did you find me?" I barked at him, clenching my hands into fists at my side. His grin only grew wider as he released an elated giggle. Sitting up, he moved to the edge of the bed and sat with his legs spread apart, letting his feet slightly dangle above the floor. His tongue slid across his bottom lip and then disappeared inside his mouth, where it played momentarily with the scars.

"Now where's the fun in that, sweet cheeks?" he asked, with a mocking sweetness in his voice. My eyes narrowed into a glare that probably would have killed him if looks could murder. I took a forceful step forward towards him.

"I came here to get a little peace of mind—something that cannot possibly happen with you sneaking into my private room. How you found me, I'll never know, but if you want to leave this place alive, you better tell me…now," I sneered. My fists were balled so tightly my hands were beginning to lose feeling in them. I could only imagine how white they looked compared to the rest of my tanned skin.

The Joker's grin broke into a serious pout and his eyes relaxed a bit, dropping back to a regular position beneath his eyebrows. He shook his head slowly as he averted his eyes to his dangling feet. "Now, I know you don't mean that, Giada," he spoke finally, and then glanced up at me while his head was still bent slightly forward.

I shook my head, pursing my lips tightly together, "You don't want to find out," I spoke firmly through clenched teeth.

"You forget, Giada, that I know you better than…most," he explained matter-of-factly. His tone of voice and relaxed state of being only further angered me. He couldn't take me seriously and that infuriated my very existence. He had the balls to cut my face and then the audacity to show up here in Boston only to tell me he knew me better than anyone else in the world.

"Get out—just get the fuck out," I demanded, closing my eyes tightly so that I could not see him. The mere sight of him instilled in me the urge to rip him in half. I could hear him shift uncomfortably on the bed, but not rise to his feet.

"Well then I'll tell you—because I'm not going anywhere," he stated finally, then jumping to his feet. In the moment it took me to open my eyes, the Joker had sprung across the room and had me in a tight lock.

"Let me go," I urged in a low, calm voice, glaring at him from my peripheral. The Joker leaned his face in close to me as his arms held tightly onto me.

"No," he responded in the same calm, low voice I had spoken. "See, I didn't quite anticipate this animosity from you, but I guess, it's somewhat justified,"

"Like hell it's justified! You cut my face!" I shouted at him angrily, squirming to free myself from his grasp.

He held me tighter, "Uh uh, now it's your turn to listen to me," he soothed with his voice. I knew it was a farce. He had no reason to soothe me if he came here to finish the cutting job.

"See, had I known you'd be this…uncooperative…I'd have never cut your face, Giada. This is a dangerous game we're playing here—a game where you make me believe you want me to cut your f ace…oh, a long time ago back here in Boston…at that little club of yours—then some time later, I do the deed only to find out…you lied. I don't appreciate lying, Giada—and from what I've gathered, neither do you. I only did what I do best—I took when you said and turned it into a reality. Well, I can't help if that reality has changed for you since that evening I came for you. Now, you wish to know how I found you? Well, it's no secret I'm inside your head—you let me in there yourself, Giada. You only have yourself to blame for that—for falling in love with a madman,"

I couldn't tell if his voice was mocking or sincere. I think it had a tinge of both—he was sincere but felt he had to mock the situation only because I was being difficult. Well what the hell did he expect—for me to welcome him with open arms after cutting my face?! Then again…he was right; I had wanted him to cut my face that one time, but only if it would make him love me. I suppose that was an idiotic thing to want, but there was a strong part of me that was probably just as crazy as him.

"You're right—I did let you in, but it was a mistake," I responded, no longer trying to escape from his hold.

"A mistake, hm? That's too bad, Giada, because I don't think it was a mistake. That's how I found you—because you…opened yourself to me," he responded with a small laugh.

"How do you mean?" I asked, now curious by his explanation.

The Joker pursed his lips playfully, then tongued his scars before opening his mouth for clarification, "I found the Bat," he spoke finally in a low raspy voice. My heart immediately sank, assuming the worst—that he and Bruce had battled to the death over my location, and Bruce lost.

"What did you do?" I asked, holding in my anxiety and worry for Bruce's safety.

"Oh don't worry—I didn't kill the Bat!" the Joker exclaimed, erupting in a fit of laughter, "Batsy's just too much fun to kill, Giada; don't you know that by now?"

"Yes, I don't know what I was thinking," I responded softly, unnerved that he was able to sense my fear for Bruce. I wondered in that moment if he knew Batman was Bruce Wayne, my best friend. He seemed to know everything.

"I asked the Batman where you were—I knew he had taken you away. It's what Batsy seems to do with you. He simply responded, after a much heated battle with me, 'if you know her as well as you say, you'll know where she is,' and so I knew right then and there…Boston,"

A chill wiggled itself down my spine as his breath from the word "Boston" hit the back of my neck. I couldn't believe Bruce would say that to the Joker—maybe Bruce wanted the Joker to find me.

"How did you get here so quickly? My plane left today," I asked in a near whisper.

"I know. Mine did too," he replied and then suddenly released me from his grasp, throwing me onto the bed. He crawled on top of me and peered down at me as his stringy hair hung down in front of his face. I couldn't help but peer up at him, intrigued.

I couldn't believe what he was saying—had he stolen away on Bruce's private jet without anyone knowing? Had he somehow taken a normal flight from the Gotham City airport?

The Joker peered down at me with unquestioning eyes, "I know you're curious, but…I know…you can figure it out," he crooned as his gloved hand smoothed my curly hair away from my face. I wanted to cringe, but I really loved the way he held me there beneath him. Apparently he trusted me enough with knowing him that I should be able to figure out whether or not he was on Bruce's private jet. I assumed he somehow managed to sneak aboard. It would be something he would do.

"So you stowed away in Bruce Wayne's private jet. I'm surprised Batman led to you that conclusion," I responded, letting my lips slightly part into a grin.

"Then you underestimate the Bat and me," he replied, then tonguing his scars, "And besides, your dear friend Mr. Wayne was nowhere to be found—it was all too…simple,"

I nodded my head. Bruce hadn't taken me to the jet this morning—just Alfred. I wondered if Bruce had somehow planned for this to happen. No. He couldn't. He knew I needed some time to myself here in Boston—that was why I came home in the first place!

"Besides wanting to find me, why did you come here?" I asked, hoping to soften him into maybe telling me he loved me too.

"What other reason could I have besides wanting you back?" he asked, almost in a curious manner, as though he had another reason in mind. The expression on his face was quizzical, but in a slightly mischievous way. I saw his eyes glance away from mine and down to where he cut the side of my mouth. I was then suddenly hit with the fear of him coming so he could finish cutting the other side of my face.

I reached my hand up to touch couple of nearly invisible sutures that closed the small cut. Knowing I was aware of his gaze, his eyes shifted back up to mine and a small smirk spread across his scarred lips.

"I never had stitches in mine," he stated, biting his lower lip softly.

"No? I can only imagine how much more painful yours were than this one—it's a lot smaller than what I had imagined before seeing it," I responded, no longer quite to angry with him. The scar really was short in length.

"It could have been…longer," the Joker replied, "Like mine…if you wanted it to be,"

I tilted my head, curiously, unsure of his motive for even cutting my face at all—besides that one conversation we had a long while ago when I had told him he could cut my face.

"But I don't think you would look so pretty with scars like mine," he continued, his voice growing softer and lower.

I bit my lower lip and then let go of a smile as I looked up at him, "I suppose. But like you said, it's a dangerous game…cutting peoples' faces,"

He smiled back at and then backed off from me, allowing me to sit up. I perched up on my elbows as I watched him stand to his feet from the bed. Taking a remote from the entertainment center, he pressed the on button and Doris Day filled the room. I loved her voice—it was so beautiful and soothing. I couldn't help but smile. Casually, he kicked off his shoes and removed his large overcoat, placing it over a large cushioned chair in the corner of the room. I watched him as he continued to remove his gloves, and finally, began loosening his tie.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling somewhat stupid. He was obviously removing his clothes.

"Taking a bath," he replied, unbuttoning his vest and placing it on the same chair as his coat. A bath? Never quite imagined the Joker taking a bath before this moment, but I guessed even he had to relax. Before my first time at his apartment, I couldn't even imagine him showering—mostly because he always looked so greasy.

"Well, have fun with that. I'm going to un-pack," I responded, hoisting myself up and off the bed. I walked over to the door way bent of to retrieve my bag. The Joker, however, now no longer clothed, grabbed me from behind and started dragging me across the bedroom.

"What are you doing?!" I shrieked, suddenly fearful of what he was about to do. Once inside the bathroom, he kicked the door closed with his foot and held me against it, trying to remove my clothes. I had tried initially to fight him, but once I got a look at the bathroom, I softened up to him. Candles were lit everywhere and two glasses with a bottle of wine were beside the Jacuzzi, which was already full to the brim with piping hot water.

"You did this?" I asked, not able to hide my smile from him.

"No—Santa Claus popped his ass down the chimney and did it all," he responded, hoisting my shirt over my head.

"Why the romance now?" I asked, ignoring his comment and letting him to continue to undress me.

"I'm full of surprises—it's never quite that simple with me. You know that, Giadaaaa," he crooned and then led me over to the hot tub. We both stepped into the steaming hot tub and sat down. He immersed himself fully in the water right away, but it took me a couple of minutes to get used to the hot water. He poured some wine and handed me a glass.

"So is this really wine, or is it that special punch of yours?" I asked with a smirk, taking a sniff of the liquid in my glass.

"That's for you to find out, sweet cheeks," he replied, clanking his glass with mine. He then gulped all of the liquid down his throat and placed his glass back onto the tub. I took a small sip only to find that it was an aged chianti.

"Drink up, doll face—we've got a bottle here to finish," he smirked as he poured more wine into his glass.

"The whole bottle? You do realize that wine doesn't get me drunk, right?" I asked, returning his sly grin, "I'm Italian, remember? This stuff is my peoples' water,"

"Well, I don't know about this stuff," he responded, a wide conniving smile spreading across his lips. I took another drink from my glass and swashed it around my mouth before swallowing. It tasted like a chianti—but now I wasn't so sure.

"What is it? Or, rather, what did you put in it? Is it not a chianti?" I asked, taking the bottle from him and searching the label. To my dismay, the bottle had no readily available label—it was some homemade concoction from the Joker! I was an idiot to think he bought us aged wine. I should have known better than to think that—I should have known it was one of his crazy drinks that contain every kind of alcohol possible.

"Like I said—drink up, honey," he repeated himself, this time not as sweetly as before. I nervously drank the rest of my glass and held it out for him to pour me some more. I guessed I had to go along with his little plan, whatever it was.

"You're making me anxious, Joker," I said finally, taking another sip from this glass. He sighed and shook his head.

"I've never really given you a reason not to trust me, Giada," he stated finally.

"No? How about that time you cut my face?" I asked, irritated.

"I only did it because you had told me you wanted me to cut your face—especially since you have those crazy feelings for me," he replied, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip from his glass. I felt myself blush. He knew clearly about my love for him and there was no way for me to ever deny my feelings towards him now. I simply took another sip from my glass and held it close to me.

"Why so quiet?" he asked, cocking his head to the side and setting his glass on the tub rim.

I found I wasn't even able to look him in the eyes, but I forced myself to lock eyes with him before speaking, "It's true—you know how I feel about you,"

"Giada, please—it was no secret. I've known for…a while," he responded, then licked his lips. His face paint was beginning to run and melt from his face. Feeling slightly playful, I splashed a little water up into his face, causing the water to erase more of the makeup. He let out a surprised cough and splashed me back. I just laughed and splashed him again.

I shifted onto my knees and crawled close to him. Sitting in front of him on my knees, I ran my palms over his face, removing the makeup. Finally, I gently removed the black from his eyes with my finger tips. He eyes fluttered closed while I washed his face. Some of the black remained darker around his eyes, but most of his face paint was finally removed. His eyes opened and I couldn't help but smile at him. I took his face between my palms and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back passionately, hoisting me off my knees and leaning my back against the side of the hot tub so that he was on top of me. After several moments of kissing, he finally pulled his lips from mine. I stared hard into his eyes. From the corner of my eye, I saw his knife on the side of the tub.

"I know you came here to finish cutting my face," I spoke finally in low voice.

"Only if you want me to," he said. It took me by surprise. I turned my head to look at the knife. It was his switchblade; the blade hidden beneath the shaft.

"I think you should—I want you to," I decided, taking the knife in my hand.

"Are you sure? There's no going back once it's done,"

"Yes, I'm sure. Make it like the other one—small," I instructed him. I handed him the blade and he mechanically switched the blade up and held it to my face. He looked so comfortable holding the blade to my mouth, but he paused. Looking down at me, he took my hand in his other hand.

"For some reason, I can't understand why…" he spoke in a low voice, "I don't like hurting you, Giada,"

"I guess it can be a dangerous game, hurting people," I replied, smiling slightly.

"Hurting people…is easy. This is not easy," he explained, shifting uneasily above me.

"It should be easy because I want you to do it," I stated, trying to calm him. He looked anxious and I did not want an anxious Joker cutting my face. That could only lead to disaster—for my face.

"Sh sh sh, don't speak," he instructed, closing his eyes, "I need to envision someone else,"

"You know, this is quite endearing," I joked with him, but immediately, his other hand released from mine and covered my mouth.

"Don't speak—I don't understand this," he responded, opening his eyes.

"You're the Joker—Gotham's most infamous criminal!" I exclaimed from behind his hand. He removed his hand from my mouth as a small smile cracked from his lips, "I know you can cut my face—you did it once before,"

"But this time is different—you're not with anyone. You're here with me,"

"Were you upset I was with Dr. Crane?" I asked, suddenly understanding his anger behind the cutting. He was jealous. I just knew it! Not that his jealous was any excuse for cutting my face.

"Just say anything that you think will make me upset—something you think will…upset me," he stated, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes once more.

I pondered all of the things I could say that would upset him. I could mention Pixie and his son Braidon. I could mention the Batman, but I Batman was someone who amused him. Suddenly, I knew exactly what I could say that would throw him off track. He slipped the knife into my mouth slowly.

"Say something—now," he instructed, leaning in close to my face. His face was centimeters from mine, as his lips grazed mine.

I had to say it. He would not know what hit him, "I love you" The words left my mouth as our lips touched and his eyes flew open in astonishment. I had never said it directly to him before. He hadn't wanted to cut my face, but because of the unsuspecting shock, the knife slipped and made the minor cut it was supposed to. He nearly dropped the knife as blood began running down my face and onto his hand. He backed away from me and threw the knife from his hand onto the bathroom floor.

"You did it," I responded, ignoring the pain as I held my face in my hand.

"No thanks to that little remark," he snapped back, clearly shaken that he had cut my face because I told him I loved him.

"It's fine—I wanted you to do this," I spoke, clearly in pain. I held my face in my hand and looked down at the blood dripping down into the water from my chin.

"Come here," he said finally, pulling me close to him and taking my hand away from my face. Holding me in his lap, he pressed his lips to the scar and kissed my face. It sent chills up and down my spine. I really did love him, and in that moment, I thought maybe he loved me too.

"That's a dangerous little game you played," he stated between kisses. I could feel his lips part into a smile as he kissed my cheek.

"It's the same dangerous game you've been playing all along," I replied with a smile.