He sat at the table alone, by himself in the center of a plain gray room. The table was wooden, thin, narrow; he wondered how easily he could snap it in half and then quickly realized he was in need of correct. He rethought the situation and began to wonder how easily one of his men- subordinates, henchmen, goons - could snap it in half for him. The thought made him smile. The two chairs were also wooden, a wise choice considering how many people were injured during the last interrogation. He wondered if Batman's head wound from that day had finished healing yet and then suddenly remembered he didn't care.

The white makeup on his face has faded so drastically from his week in jail that a normal, human, skin tone had actually begun to show through. After all, the Joker was only human. The clown-red of his lips was smeared, but still mostly all there. A sickly green color was stained into what was assumed to have once been blonde hair, it hadn't faded one bit.
He sat anxiously with his hands together in his lap under the table, the chain of his hand cuffs gently clanging against the wooden seat as he shook his leg with impatience. He had to know who'd be interrogating him, they wouldn't dare send in a normal detective. The poor commissioner had hopefully learned his lesson from the last four attempts of sending in normal men and women to talk to him. Could it be the bat man? If so he'd be sure to receive an award for the quickest healer in all of Gotham.

Joker grew bored waiting on these damn cops to make up their mind on Batman's replacement. He looked to his right and saw a large mirror taking up an entire wall; did they think he was stupid? By now he knew that there were officers behind the mirror watching him until they made a decision and then some more. Maybe they'd send in that Robin kid; Joker chuckled at that stupid idea. He could take a squirt like that down in two heart beats; the first would be spent on a well delivered joke and the second would be for the actual murder. The Joker made a silent bet that Robin would cry like a little girl if such a situation had ever actually arose. Thinking about making a small child crying only seemed to make him more eager, perhaps sending in little Robin wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Hell, the kid's got to learn these things some how, right? He waved to the mirror with an eager smile.

At last; a creak, a squeak, a sound other than his cuffs against the damned wooden chair. The door flew open and his head lifted to greet his interrogator at long last. His eyes travelled up the well toned, not to mention eloquent, long legs hidden behind tight black spandex. A yellow belt, yellow gloves up to the elbows, yellow under-cape, and a yellow bat symbol resting on a bouncing chest. The Joker's eyes jumped up and down with every step she took towards his waiting table. He knew that chest- symbol anywhere.

Batgirl.

"So, you've finally been caught, Joker."

"Yes, and I see you finally had that operation I recommended." The woman glared and folded her arms over her chest to conceal it.

"Try to stay on topic. Or is that too much for you to handle?" Joker smiled, silently accepting defeat and actually looking up at her face. Brilliantly blue, ice cold hues stared back down at him. Her batmask was framed beautifully with her red, bouncy hair coming down to fall over her shoulders.

"By all means," He smiled up at her, "be my guest." He laughed. Batgirl slammed her hands against the table's surface, causing certain parts of her to jiggle.

"Your Joker-Virus was found in Gotham's drinking water. Seventeen people have already laughed themselves to death because of you. You're the only person who would think of such a vile act so don't even-" The Joker threw his hands up in front of his face with a wide grin.

"Listen, lady, I never denied doing it. And why would I?" He brought his hands back down, "I'm proud of my work." He chuckled. "But what about you? Hmm? You're a young woman standing in a room with the man that just got away with killing seventeen people, twenty-six if you count the people that have died during that painfully long wait you guys put me through. And are you proud of that?" She didn't know what to say.

He was right, what did she have to be proud of? Batman always had Robin by his side, she was never called to duty unless they needed someone to untie them or get captured but after that all she did was drive away until they called for her services again. She envied him. She wanted to know how he could always pull off that smug confidence, that ego, all of that pride that boiled within him. What would happen to the world if he were ever to boil over and snap? Well... Snap more than usual.

"Well, little miss bat? I'm not hearing an answerrrrrrr." He smiled, tapping the chain against his chair again, "I'm guessing the answer is no since you haven't screamed at me yet." She was silent. How could she say she was proud of such pathetic tasks without lying? Batman had Robin, there was no use for her in his line of work, nor was she needed in his home life.

"Tell me how you do it." She muttered.

"Well, it's not easy. I mean, creating a virus that makes people laugh uncontrollably is much harder than it sounds."

"No, not that. I don't care about your sick sense of humor."

"Well, that was rude."

"How do you walk around with so much pride in what you do?"

"I'm afraid I require a price for my information, darling."

"You were just about to explain to me how you made a laughing virus."

"... Yes, and? What's your point?" He arched an eyebrow and she sighed.

"What do you want?" He pretended to think for a while, a long while.

"Well, I'm a man of simple tastes, simple interests, and simple tasks. Simple tasks tend to be rather short though, so-"

"You're only getting one. One price, maybe less depending on what it is."

"Is this an interrogation or a negotiation?"

"It'll be neither if you don't tell me what you're after."

"Two things. First, get me the hell out of here." He leaned forward on the table now to add a sense of dire importance to what he had to say next. She leaned down against the table to see the man eye to eye, though it took a while for his eyes to meet hers once he realized just how close her breasts actually were. Her pressing them against the table didn't exactly help him focus either. "Second, leave the bat man and come join me." Not exactly what she was expecting.

She would have expected him to ask for money, jewels, gold, bank blueprints, anything but her in his work force. Could she really leave Batman? Would she be able to leave the hidden shadows of justice and walk into the pitch black alleyway of evil? Was it really that easy?

"Fine." Apparently so. She pulled out her batarang from the side of her utility belt and sliced through the handcuff's chain easily to set the Joker free. She ordered him to follow her lead and agree with anything she said.

"Oo, I like'em feisty." He sprung from his chair and followed after her with no complaints.

She lead him out of the interrogation room and they were immediately greeted by the commissioner and several armed policemen. Batgirl looked over her shoulder as though to remind him not to do anything stupid, he smiled with no promises. The policemen had their firearms aimed and ready by the time she turned back to explain herself.

"Lower your weapons, men." She said sternly, they all ignored her and resumed aiming.

"Batgirl, what the hell do you think you're doing?" The commissioner demanded.

"He didn't do it."

"What?" His thick mustache furrowed with anger. Batgirl always thought it looked funny.

"It was one of his men, commissioner. They framed him in order to take over his position, he must be stopped at once!"

"God speed to you then, Batgirl! And good luck!" And they ran off. The Joker had always been a tad jealous that Batman, Robin, and Batgirl could tell the police the most obscure things and never be doubted or denied. He wanted that sort of obedience from his men! He was growing more and more sick of all of their constant questioning and whining.

Batgirl found herself thinking it was too easy and that there must be some sort of catch to all of this. They had made it back to the Joker's hideout and into his personal office/bedroom. She felt the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, her core even. She was so excited she actually turned around, threw her arms around Joker's neck and kissed his cheek. And of course, the Joker with his natural charm, put his arms around her and planted a kiss right on her lips with no second thought.

She was remarkably younger than him, but he didn't care. He was notorious for committing one crime after the other, killing thousands of people, and having hundreds at his command. So who cared if what he planned to do next was illegal? That's never stopped him before.

She leaned in to their kiss, pressing her large breasts up against his chest and bringing one of her eloquently long legs up to curl around him. The Joker's hand slid up her back, looking for a zipper, a button, anything to remove that damn costume. There was nothing, so he said fuck it and tore off as much of her spandex as he could in one pull. She pulled off her gloves behind his head and they fell to the floor, along with her cape, and eventually her utility belt. The bottom of her breasts could be seen through the newly torn opening in her costume. They were perfect in size and shape, perfectly round and just barely big enough to make him find his hands small by comparison. He lifted the woman up against him and carried her to the bed in the back corner of his room/office. The woman lied down against the oddly comforting blankets to look up at the Joker leaning over her. A hand slid up under her costume to hold the woman's perfect breasts tightly within its grasp, she flinched and released a muffled moan behind her lips.

"Your hands are cold." He ignored her whispered words and leaned down to kiss her neck. Her skin was so soft, he wondered how it was even possible for something to feel so smooth beneath his fingertips. She nudged him off of her gently and sat up to pull off the top half of her torn costume over her head. She tossed it to the ground and coiled her arms around his neck to pull him close as she lied back down against his bed.

He pressed his lips against her skin again and again; down her neck, along her collar bone, and finally along her breasts. The Joker's hands seemed to attain a mind of their own, they ran up and down the front of her body, slowing down whenever they met her chest to fully enjoy every inch of it. She brought her long legs up to wrap around him, pulling him that much closer. With her legs around him, he grinned, he could feel every movement her body made, every arch, every little craving. His hands ran along her chest one last time before sliding back down her body and sliding under what was left of her costume, an involuntary thrust and her heavier breathing made him feel like this was all too easy. With one hand against her thigh and the other rubbing her beneath the torn suit, the Joker made use of her breasts with his tongue; she couldn't keep herself quiet no matter how hard she tried. When he decided the poor girl had probably been through enough, he pulled off what little of her costume was still in his way.

Two men sat at an empty table in front of the Joker's bulletin board containing his plans and every step that he'd either tell his men later or had already told them. They knew there was always more to his plans than what they were told, but they didn't care so long as they got their cut of whatever it was they were taking that day. They heard peculiar noises from their boss's room, sounds of a young woman that occurred again and again at an increasing rate. The men turned to each other with boyish grins.

"Yo, sounds like the boss is getting laid." He snickered.

"I thought he was in jail," He shrugged, "must've broken out."

"Think it's Harley Quinn in there again?"

"Nah, he cut her out, said she was too annoying." The men shrugged at each other and stopped to think about how they had wished they weren't always so busy with the Joker's bidding. Maybe then they'd have time of their own to find a woman. They admired the Joker for being able to balance his life so well while still keeping up with all of their evil plots.

The woman's noises suddenly stopped, but not in a way that they thought felt normal. Out came their boss in his usual purple suit, green shirt and all. He was just then putting on his purple gloves and rubbing his hands together for a job well done.

"Getting lucky tonight, eh Joker?" The man grinned.

"I suppose, if you can call that lucky." The Joker scoffed, "Gentlemen, there's no need for luck when one has as much skill as I. But, women these days," he shook his head, "too easy. How am I supposed to enjoy myself if there's no challenge?"

"Ah, found yourself a little slut, Boss."

"Yes, yes. Do me a favor and go clean up that mess in there, would you? Thanks." And he left them there to wonder where he had to go in such a rush. They were both curious about the woman in the room and thought it was odd that she was so quiet, maybe she was sleeping.

They hopped to their feet, terrified of not completing their task before the boss got back. They walked into the Joker's room with faces of lazy disgust, they weren't maids; why should they have to clean up his little mess? One of the men flipped on the light and found the masked Batgirl naked in the Joker's bed with her head twisted in an unnatural manner.

He killed her.