"Still working with the Batman, I see," the Joker's voice scared Adriana when she walked into her kitchen carrying bags from the pharmacy.
It was dark and all of the lights were off. She turned on the kitchen light.
"Shit! You scared me to death!" she said and sat the bags down.
"My sincerest apologies," he said, though he didn't sound sincere at all.
"Seriously?" she sighed. "That was over a week ago and you're just now bringing it up? We both went to stop the casino heist and...we ran into each other. If you think we were out to get you and are conspiring against you, something would have happened you by now, don't you think?"
"He's had countless opportunities to use the laughing gas on me...well if he's smart, he's had countless opportunities," he said. "He has it after all."
"If you really think he won't kill you, then what's the problem? You have a problem with me?" she asked.
He tilted his head.
"Well I'll tell you what," she said. "I have a problem with you."
"Oh?" he said inattentively.
"Yes," she said and slapped his hand away from the plastic bag he was trying to peer into. "Sit on the couch. Take off your shoes and socks."
"You don't like my shoes?" he asked and looked down. "Too bad. You have poor taste. They're vintage. 1924. Authentic."
"It's not the shoes," she said. "And I do not have poor taste. Go."
She looked through the bags as he went, looking for the correct one and then followed behind him a minute later.
"I said socks too," she said and sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.
He frowned and pulled them off. She sat the bag on her lap and began to rummage through it when she felt his hands on the sides of her thighs through her jeans. She found the clippers.
"Anh uh.." he said cautiously, looking at what she was holding. "Where do you put that?"
"Hahahaa!" she burst out laughing and leaned back, her laughter rising to the ceiling. Once she stopped she looked at him and he looked confused about what was so funny. "Are you kidding? It's a nail clipper!"
"Mhm," he said and she grabbed his hand and began to clip his fingernails quickly. Then she grabbed the other hand and did the same. His nails were long and thick.
"Much better, but not quite done," she said and pulled out a metal nail file. She began to file his nails.
"Enough," he said once he felt the grinding against his nail.
"Look, I know this is uncomfortable but so are your nails," she said. "Seriously, these things are like claws. You're slicing me up."
"So..." he said as the grinding began again as she swiped the file back and forth on his fingers. "That why my shoes are off?"
"Yes," she said, looking down at the thumb nail she was filing. "I'll just clip your toe nails. I won't file them."
"Anything else?" he asked when she finally lifted his foot onto her lap.
"Huh?" she asked, not knowing what he meant. "Gosh your toenails are like velociraptor's talons."
"I see," he said and she looked back up at him after clamping off another nail.
"Sorry," she said. "I'm not trying to offend you. It's just...they're really long, you must never have cut them."
"You think comparing my foot to an extinct animal is offensive to me?" he said. "I have heard far worse. You might as well be paying me a complement."
"Well for starters," she said and began filing his toenails. "I was comparing the nails not your feet. Your feet are actually quite nice."
He looked down at his feet. They looked unremarkable to him.
"What else?" he asked and she looked at him for elaboration. "What else is wrong?"
"Wrong?" she questioned. "With you?"
He sat back, waiting. Obviously the answer was yes.
"So...you want me to just ...like...air complaints?" she asked hesitantly, but he didn't look upset by the idea at all. He looked like he was welcoming it.
"Go on," he insisted.
"Okay...well..." she thought as she continued to file. "I don't like when you show up in the dark and scare the shit out of me. I don't like when you leave your...contraband here. You left a grenade here the other night."
"Ah...that," he nodded. "That grenade was harmless."
"Well, I didn't know that," she said. "It scared me half to death."
"Im sure there's more," he said. "Go on."
"Not much more," she shrugged and filed the last toe nail. "So...you have a certain..."
"Out with it," he said. "Whatever it is, you're not offending me."
"Okay, you kinda smell like gasoline most of the time," she said. "I mean it's fine..in general...but if we're going to...you know when we're close the smell is kind of strong."
"I don't smell it," he said.
"I think you're desensitized to it," she told him. "I mean...it's fine, whatever."
"Right. Go on," he said.
"So," she said and leaned back and looked at his face. "The paint...I don't like it."
"I do," he said.
"I know," she said. "You told me to air complaints. I don't like it."
"What is wrong with it?" he asked.
"Well...for starters it get's all over me. I guess it sweats off you or something. Seriously..I thought I had my period the other day but nope, it was just red paint," she said. "It don't like it. And it makes your face look bad."
"As compared to...what?" he asked nearly laughing. He thought his face looked bad either way.
"I prefer you without it," she said and looked through the bag to pullout the packet of makeup wipes. "You're handsome."
"Handsome," he asked as she began to wipe the paint off. "Maybe your vision needs a checkup."
"The paint makes you look way older than you are," she said and wiped his lips.
He took the wipe from her and began to wipe his own face.
"You don't know how old I am," he told her when he was done. "No one does. Not even me."
"Right.." she said quickly. She knew exactly how old he was.
He couldn't remember the majority of his life. He didn't know who he was. But she did. She had seen all of the memories he was not conscious of.
"I mean it just ages you," she said.
"So?" he asked.
"Well," she sighed. "It changes your eyes," she said and he was quiet, listening. "Kind of makes it looks like you have giant beady dark eyes...but you have very beautiful hazel hooded eyes."
"Mmm" he said, thinking that he had never thought much about his eyes. He couldn't even remember what they looked like. If anyone had asked him their color before just now, he would not have likely he would have guessed and said brown.
"So..." she said, wiping his forehead. "What about me? Any complaints-"
"Hmm," he said after some thought. "Well..."
"Yes?" she was so curious.
"Chris," the Joker said.
"Chris? The guy that works for you? What about him?" Adriana asked.
"I overheard him speaking to you the other day-" he said.
"You heard that?" Adriana said. The Joker had called her to drop off another bag of money at the train station into one of the lockers. While she was collecting the bag Chris insisted on flirting with her.
"Yes." the Joker told her. "He stopped talking to you as soon I came in."
"Luckily," Adriana said. "That's because he's scared of you. They all are."
"You don't like him?" he asked.
"Ummm, I thought that was obvious," she replied. "He turns my fucking stomach. I hate that guy."
The Joker looked at her.
"And Brake," he said. "You like him."
"Well...he's very nice, I guess-" she said.
"He also stops talked to you when I approach," he said. "And Santos?"
"He's...very okay. Why are we talking about them?" Adriana said.
"If you like any of them," he said. "And they are interested in you, you can tell them they don't have to think I am going to kill or damage them just because-"
"Oh," she said and tied up the bag. "So I guess...you're saying you don't care if I see other people."
"I am saying that you're obviously very..." he made a hand gesture up and down in front of her.
"Obviously what? Are you calling me a slut?" she asked. "You think I'm a slut?"
"Ah..no," he said, not seeing why she was suddenly upset. "Are you?" he asked in a very neutral and accepting tone.
"What?...No!...I mean...I wouldn't say so..." she said, not liking how the conversation had turned. "So what were you going to say, with that little hand gesture?"
"I was intending to say that you are very...conventionally attractive," he told her. "You attract a lot of attention and interest. And you obviously have needs. I'm not going to interfere with it."
She leaned back, resting both of her palms behind her on the table that she was sitting on.
"What are you saying?" she asked.
He felt he had been clear.
"I won't stand in your way," he said.
"I see..." she said. "You're losing interest. You've grown tired of me. You found someone else."
"Hm?" he asked, unsure where she had drawn such a conclusion. He didn't know she was joking.
"Yeah...you found someone else, and you're bored with me," she said.
"No," he said. "I have not lost any interest. I have not grown tired of you and obviously there is no one else."
"I think you're tired of me," she said and moved forward to sit on his lap.
He looked at her curiously. He had already told her he wasn't tired of her.
"All that stuff Chris was saying he wanted to do to me," she said and planted small kisses on his neck. "You're tired of being the one that has to do all of that..aren't you?"
He pulled his neck away from her and looked her in the eyes with a bit of distaste.
"Is that the impression I have given you?" he asked.
"I'm joking," she laughed. "Come on," she said, seeing that he was not amused. "I'm only kidding. Just because... You don't seem to realize.."
"Realize what?"
"I don't want them..or anyone else.." she whispered. "I want you."
.