Disclaimer: I do not own Joker or Batman. I do own Dezzy

Author's Note: Many, many years later people are still reading this story. So I decided to try and finish the story. I did keep it on hiatus because I knew it was going to have to take a somewhat serious turn. But I hope some of the long time fans will like this and I promise this is not the end!

I shrieked.

I don't know what he actually expected besides the shocked kick to the stomach the maniac got and rightfully deserved. Of course I wasn't expecting him to latch onto my arms like a lifeline and drop both of us off the side of the bed like dead weights.

A none feminine yelps and a few pained curses as our skulls connected on the landing was almost comical if it hadn't sent sharp bolts of lighting through my brain. At least I had the good sense to curl up like a dead armadillo away from the bastard. The bastard who was giggling between his pained little mewlings. I guess Wayne liked screamers.

"You…" I hissed through my teeth as my own voice started up the lighting bolts behind my eyes again. "You are gonna fucking pray for Arkham when I can stand again…"

That brought a bubbling little chuckle from my fellow, painfully sprawled, floor dweller. Though to be honest, I'm sure harder things than my skull had been bounced off the Joker's head. I just hoped this wasn't how he and Bruce always expressed affection or I was gonna need better insurance...or, in my current predicament, any insurance would do.

A heavy, purple clad arm flopped over me and recognizing the heavy fabric from every news article about the Joker ever, it quickly put my calculations for insurance plans on instant hold.

I'd chased this man through my apartment, gotten drunk off my ass with him (no matter how dubiously that had started), he'd even kissed me (again, a bit dubiously but I wouldn't exactly knock it off my top ten list). All that craziness aside, crammed into the whirlwind of a day, I suddenly remembered exactly who it was pulling me back to against his chest and nuzzling my neck like an affectionate toddler.

I stiffened and in turn, the man behind me stopped nuzzling and purring like a goddamned cat. I expected disappointed mewling or a question of why I was scared. Instead he quietly released me, and coward that I was, I took the chance to immediately stand and put distance between us. I didn't even turn to look at him as the bed squeaked when he sat down on it, no doubt watching me burn a line in the floor with my sudden pacing.

I needed bonkers Mcgee to make an appearance right now. Mr. Sanity was scaring the absolute crap out of me, quiet and understanding was not what I needed as the reality of my situation sunk in. I'd spent the week lobing trash at a murdering psychopath and somehow logic had just left me to my own devices the whole time.

"Why are you here?" I asked finally, the words rushing out like I'd taken a two by four to the gut. I forced myself to look at him and there he was, to the scuffs on his dress shoes all the way up to his fully dyed green hair, The Joker, add the ™ there folks. Cause sitting there with a frown on his blood red hackjob lips was the man of every police officers worst PTSD nightmare. Legs splayed and planted firmly on the ground, gloved fingers tapping with obvious agitation on his knees, he wasn't even breathing normally. But did it bring back memories of the maniac in the Batman threat videos from when he first made his murdeous appearance in Gotham.

He didn't say anything, just stared at me, watching me like a shark.

"No!" I snapped, hating that my voice sounded hysterical, that I could feel greasepaint smeared on my forehead where our skulls had smacked and this bastard had the audacity to play this bullshit silent treatment with me. "No, you do not get to just do this! You spent a whole week playing undercover, playing likeable psychopath. You do not get to show up like this! How did you even get in here like that?!" I demanded, bracing my feet but still keeping that careful distance.

The Joker chuckled. "It's the Narrows, doll," he drawled and it sounded, angry. He pushed up with a small bounce in his heels and cracked his neck from side to side. I took a step back and he stopped.

It was all the answer I needed though. The Narrows were the rogues galleries play place, honestly having the Joker in my apartment probably wouldn't even raise a peep the way Bruce Wayne's appearance had.

"Is this just the final warning then?" I finally asked. "Go to my new shiny job and keep my mouth shut or you get to finally kill me?"

Joker didn't give me a moment to regret what I said, instead he moved towards me. He didn't have to push me against the wall, I did that myself trying to backpedal, keep the distance. When he was finally in front of of me, when I could smell cheap lipstick and freshly dyed hair competing with expensive cologne, he just stared down at me. I don't know what he was looking for, I don't know if he had one of his little knives twirling in his fingers because the black around his eyes made his eyes hypnotic, acid green pools.

The stillness was terrifying. Where I'd been almost the main focus of his earlier unfettered, frantic energy, this stillness and control kept me in place without any effort on Joker's part.

'Woman Dies on Her Last Night in the Narrows!'

It would be a pretty forgettable headline.

The creak of his gloves drew my attention as his fingers reached out for my cheek, warm leather cupping my chin firmly, not letting me look away.

"You're part of this now, part of us, part of our pretty dance, Dezzy..." he muttered almost under his breath, but this close I couldn't have missed it. His eyes roamed my face restlessly. "Don't you wanna dance?"

I imagined it for a moment, the parts I'd seen at least. Their violent 'dancing'.

"I'm breakable," is all I could manage.

He released my chin suddenly, instead patting my cheek awkwardly. "I know...I know, I know. Pretty porcelain doll…"

I swallowed. "Is Bruce here?"

Joker nodded, backing away from me with a look of confusion on his face.

I quickly took advantage of the space and dove out of the room to find the vigilante. This wasn't funny aymore.

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