And we're back! The last one wasn't much so I thought you guys deserve to have the good stuff happen since you've waited so long.

Enjoy!

It was quiet, the soft hum of the heating system slaving to warm the large penthouse suite that revealed itself before my eyes as I peeked through the growing crack I made in the door.

To my utter amazement, this space was two stories. My bedroom rested atop a set of airy loft stairs on a landing that also held an extra lounging area, connected by a narrow hall. I braved a step out of the room to peer over the chrome railing.

The spacious suite made me breathless. Luxurious in every expense, the living room below me flaunted pristine décor and furniture. Lavish materials and fabrics molded my prison into something fit for royalty; a castle for a prince of corruption and insanity. And I was in the tower.

Lights dimmed to darken the atmosphere, the rest of the suite was a stark contrast to the bedroom where I had awoken. Behind me, the room glimmered with chrome, silver, and grey, with the tasteful flourish of dark wooded furniture. But out here, darkness glowed with gold, plum, slate, and black, emulating the menace that resided here. The stillness didn't assure me that discord was at rest for now; but promised that it waited, coiling like a patient cobra awaiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I approached the top of the stairs with caution, placing a hand on the cool metal railing. My neck craned as I descended each step, trepidation slithering up my legs in shivers of anxiety. The stairs ended at dark marble tiling. To my right was a towering opening into a dark kitchen. Though no lights were on, I could tell by the gleam of the stainless steel appliances that it was either regularly kept, or barely used. In front of me, the tiling splayed out to reveal a long Cherrywood dining table with ten chairs.

I squinted at something at the head of the table, barely recognizing the shape with my poor far-sighted eyes. My heart skipped a beat and I rushed over to the polished table, the tension in my chest loosening as I spotted my glasses.

Thank God!

I fastened them to my face, everything close to me finally clear again. My sight at last returned to normal, the suite only appeared to be more extravagant. But seeing everything so clearly now, only made my situation seem more real, rather than the possibility that it could still be a dream because of how little I could really see and comprehend. It froze me. Taking in every detail around me, I suddenly became morbidly aware of how quiet everything was here.

It just… didn't seem right. I was abducted and brought here. Why would I be left alone? Unless I truly wasn't.

Blood pounded in my ears at the thought. There was only one way to be sure.

At the end of the tiling ahead of me was a door with a peephole. I dashed to it, my hand hovering over the door-handle. It trembled, unable to grasp it. It wouldn't be so easy. My eyes lowered the locks, only two, but the plaque of metal to which handle was attached had a blinking red light. Key card lock. I would be able to leave if I wanted to. Getting in was harder than getting out. But I knew it wouldn't be that simple.

I gently pressed my body to the door and raised to my toes so I could reach the peephole. There was only darkness on the other side.

What? Was it covered? I looked at it more closely, and found that the color was a deep navy, fine lines of thread woven into what looked like a blazer or dress jacket. It was covered, guarded more like, by another person. Leaving would prove to be impossible. For now at least. But I only wondered how often someone did stand there. I only wondered how many people actually did know who lived here.

So… someone was guarding the door. Examining the two separate locks, I noticed they weren't latched. These were extra forces to keep others out rather than in. Which meant no one else, supposedly, was in here with me. My reasoning was likely flawed, I knew that. I mean, I had just woken up from a drug-induced sleep. But it was enough to give me some form of relief.

I stepped away from the door, careful to keep myself quiet. I wasn't sure how much could be heard through these walls or the door, but I figured being cautious to not alert anyone would be the wisest decision.

I turned to investigate the living area. The tile floors dropped down two steps onto carpeting. The black suede L-shaped sectional sofa was large enough two seat at least eight people comfortably. Facing it was a television stand holding a forty inch flat screen. Behind it, a familiar wall of curtains, these gold brocade, laid flush against the windows.

But what instantly caught my notice was the white baby grand piano sitting in the far left corner. I felt my heart warm and flutter for a single beautiful second. I had never seen something so pristine, gleaming in the low light. I didn't even realize that my feet had traveled to its side by the time my hand lifted the lid over the ivory and obsidian keys. My fingers itched to plunk down a note, to hear a comforting sound at a time like this, but I was certain my nerves would collapse and make me skittish like a mouse.

I knitted my brows together, a curious thought forming. A baby grand piano… here. What–

The click at the door startled me. I could almost see the blare of a red alert and a flash of black come across my vision as I realized the sound. I stepped back into the piano, my hand slamming the lid back shut.

A man entered the suite, tall, well over six feet, and strongly built. His dark suit was pressed, but he looked ragged. The first several buttons were undone, revealing part of his barrel chest and a gold chain hanging from his thick neck. His beard could have used a slight trim, but that aside, he looked every bit a gangster's henchman. He sauntered closer, slowly closing the distance between us. As he got closer, a spark of recognition ignited in my stomach. The man who got out of the car at the Denver Airport.

I stumbled back, instantly blocked by the piano. My chest and throat contracted, making it hard for me to breathe.

His face hard and an eyebrow arched, it was clear he could sense my fear, radiating off of me, by how carefully he approached me. He stopped at the top of the two steps.

"I can't believe you're not passed out still." His thick Jersey accent rolled of his tongue. "He, what, doubled the dosage on the jet? Or do ya even remember that?"

I blinked a few times, my memories flashing like the click of a camera. Vaguely, I remembered the soft cushioning of leather seats and the screaming of an engine below me, but my brain refused to go past the brief image of a purple coat. My hand gripped the cover of the piano behind me.

The man shook his head. "Whatever, I guess. Boss jus' wanted me ta come ahead and check on ya. I expected ya to still be up in the room. Woulda been easier for ya, if you'da asked me."

My eyes widened, my breathing shallow through my nose. My mind scrambled for meaning in his words. Every possibility swam before my eyes. They searched my surroundings; a way around him and out, a place to hide. How long did I have until he came along? If I'd still been sleeping what would he have done, or not done?

"No way outta this one, sweetheart," the man drawled. He looked at the golden watch on his wrist. "He should be up any second now. Knowing you're awake, he's gonna want ta see ya."

"Please!" The sounded burst from my throat before I realized what I was doing. His eyebrows rose, crinkling his forehead, but his eyes remained unreadable. I swallowed, my throat dry with apprehension. "Please, just tell me why I'm here." Behind my eyes, pain rose and threatened more tears.

He smirked. "Hell if I fuckin' know. J does what he wants. I don't question it; not matter who's involved. To me, you're just some dollface therapist I'm probably gonna have ta clean off the walls at some point."

I was certain all color drained from my face, because I suddenly felt lightheaded and all he did was just smirk again. My teeth clenched in my mouth so hard I thought they were going to break.

Any second now…?

I bolted from the piano and leaped onto the sectional couch and over the back of it. He was ready though. He darted to the side I had scurried to in an attempt to put some additional distance between us and was there to yank my arm hard enough that I let out a yelp. I should have known he would have expected me to try to make a run for it.

How original…

Gripping my arm behind my back and holding me in a head-lock with his meaty arm around my neck, I clawed at him with my free hand and squirmed as much as I could until the crook of his arm began to squeeze against my throat, cutting off some of my air.

I gasped, but I continued to try to wrestle against his hold.

"Now you're just tryna make it harder on yourself," he grumbled.

I didn't stop trying to struggle. I knew it was useless; someone like me couldn't possibly get the upper hand against someone as hulking as him. But I'd be damned if I didn't try.

He tugged me off to the side, trying to drag me. I grounded my toes into the carpet, to no affect as he eventually picked me up like I weighed nothing. I tried kicking with all of the force I had, in front of me, behind me, but even as I kicked him he didn't flinch. He brought me around to the couch and dropped me onto it. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he stood there looking down at me.

"Now you're gonna stay right there," he said, a vague threat laced in his voice.

"Yeah? You and whose army?" I spat, only half meaning it. I knew I shouldn't challenge him, he was almost twice my height and probably more than that in weight.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a flashy silver handgun, cocking it and pointing it directly at my face like it was the most casual thing he had ever done.

"This one," he replied.

I couldn't take my eyes from it. I swallowed, trying to ease my nerves as thoughts of a sticky, and messy, fate pounded on them. I was kept alive in Arkham for a reason. Now that he had me, Joker wouldn't let me be disposed of so easily. Especially if I hadn't served my full purpose yet, whatever that was supposed to be.

"Now, now, now, Frost, is that any way to treat our special guest?"

I was certain my heart stopped that very moment.

How…?

Long, experience fingers snaked over my shoulders. Inked and ringed, out of the corner of my eye I saw them follow the shoulder seam of my blouse, thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck and collar bones. His cool touch sent a shiver up my spine, but not in the way that made my skin crawl in fear or disgust. It was a slow, warming motion that ended up pooling in my gut, fearless and…

No!

He twirled a wavy lock of my hair that had fallen from the mess of braids pinned to my scalp.

The henchman, Frost, lowered his gun and put it back into the inside of his jacket. For some reason it did nothing to calm my nerves, but it was likely due to the fact that a greater, more dangerous threat stood at my back.

I didn't even hear him come in. Or was he already here? I couldn't make out if that was what made me so afraid, or if it was just to distract me from acknowledging the fact that he was right there, right then.

Frost stepped aside around the ottoman in front of the couch, appearing to give room for the Joker to come and face me himself.

The hands disappeared from my shoulders long enough for me to let out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding in.

But in a flash of purple and green, he jumped over the back of the couch. I scrambled away from him with a shriek.

"Ha ha ha ha ha." He sat perched on the couch as he stared me down. "Thrilling aren't I?"

I clenched my teeth in an attempt to ground me, my entire body trembling at his unbridled proximity. I tried to inch away as slowly as I could. He still wore the navy Arkham sweatpants all patients wore, the name of the asylum printed in block letters down the long left leg. But underneath his long purple leather coat, his torso remained unclothed, exposing his various intricate tattoos from his neck down to the waistband of his sweatpants; and every groove chiseled into his firm pale form. His physique, from what I could shamelessly see, was forged like a Michelangelo-carved marble statue; precise and refined and artful.

I fixed my knee-length skirt as non-chalantly as possible, having brought my legs up onto the couch in reaction to him startling me. I didn't know why I was suddenly so concerned with my modesty, but being around Joker, especially in this uncontrolled environment, made me extremely self-conscious about what he saw of me. I didn't want to encourage anything. Not that it really mattered here.

He can do whatever he wants. No encouragement needed.

"Up and walkin' already, Babydoll, huh?"

"Caught her tryna to escape too," Frost intervened.

My cheeks flushed as my breathing picked up.

Joker tutted, cocking his head to the side as his gaze hardened. "Now, Babydoll, you didn't really think you could–"

"I wasn't trying to escape!" I blurted. "I was just trying to get away from you!" I shot Frost a stabbing glance.

"What a load of bullshit," Frost muttered under his breath. "And where were you gonna go exactly?"

I shrugged with as much gusto as I could muster as my arms supported me up on the couch. "The bedroom I woke up in perhaps? At least I would have stairs and a door between us."

Frost only snorted.

"You think I'm stupid? You don't think I know that there's someone guarding every entrance to this place? Where else would I go?"

Joker ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture between amused and annoyed. "Didn't I tell ya how clever she can be with her misleading questions, Frost? But not clever enough to completely fool anyone with half a brain."

I clenched my teeth. "I'm clever enough for you to need me alive."

I knew I was walking a dangerous line, and I wanted to reprimand myself for speaking so boldly to someone who could snap at any moment and decide that I wasn't worth keeping around anymore. But I had to trust my gut on this one.

I drew my legs closer to my body as I saw hungry darkness cloud over his bright eyes.

"Need…" Joker's voice levelled into a raspy growl, and all color drained from my face. He leaned forward, planting his hands onto the cushions. He crawled toward me at a pace that made me feel like I was playing a deathly game of cat and mouse. My natural reaction was to just try to move back to put some distance between us no matter how useless it would have been. My hands inched back, feeling for the suede fabric behind me.

He suddenly pounced and I found myself trapped under his body, nothing but a gasp escaping from my throat. I hated myself every second that my body was frozen, paralyzed from proximity and fear.

Caged by his arms and solid body, his face was inches from mine and I could feel his hot breath on my lips. For a second I thought I saw him regard them with keen interest before landing on my eyes again.

"Oh, there's a need, Babydoll. One I'm certain you can understand." His fingers fastened on the rims of my glasses and pulled them off, tossing them onto the ottoman.

Warmth spread through me and climbed up my face at his words. Before, whenever he had alluded to crude situations, I was able to ignore him. For the most part it was easier as time went on. Mostly because I knew he wouldn't really be able to do anything. But I am constantly reminded that everything he does here isn't bound by the same strict protection I was (somewhat) guaranteed at Arkham.

Joker stared me down until he pulled his lips into his signature smile, this one laced with deceptive tenderness as his eyes hardened. "But it's better to think of yourself as a convenient desire."

Convenient…? So I was right, mostly. Keeping me alive had its uses. Convenient uses. I could only imagine what those were though. Blackmail? Information?

I could feel it in my soul that I had all the information I needed to solve this puzzle. But the racing thoughts in my head made it nearly impossible for me to focus. The plea in my mind for him to get off of me was loud and endless.

I drew in a brave breath. "Then I'll find out soon enough what that means, won't I?"

My confident façade dropped when he lowered his face over mine again, this time closer. The tip of his nose nearly touched mine.

"I guess we will." His whisper sent shocks coursing through me, and I couldn't ignore the static that tingled between us and fluttered against the skin just centimeters from touching.

The tension lasted for only a moment longer until finally he lifted himself up from the couch. I hustled further along the length of the cushions, relieved at the freedom and the growing space away from him. Shuffling to my feet, my chest heaved for air as I snatched me glasses again and backed closer towards the staircase.

Joker laughed at my apparent fear as Frost continued to glower at me, complicit in his boss's insanity. I couldn't stop the look of utter disgust from forming on my features.

"And what do you plan to do with me until I've served my purpose?" I spat. I knew I didn't want to know the answer to that, but I'd just been drugged, multiple times, abducted, and dragged back to the city I was try to escape, by the person I needed to avoid at all costs. I'd endured thing the past twenty-four hours that no one should have experience in their own nightmares. If I was entitled to anything in my life it was answer to that question.

I stood my ground as Joker glided over to me, his eyes hooded in tired apathy. He stops in front of me, inches from meeting me full flush. Dampness covered the rims of my glasses, my hands sweating as I faced him again. My other hand curled into a fist, my fingernails stinging the soft skin, to hide this nervous reaction.

Joker stared down at me, eyes unreadable, a craving that burned holes into my mind as if he was trying to read it. A bony finger met my wrist, sending cold tingles up my arm. I tried not to visibly shiver and I dropped my eyes, only to have them land on the black calligraphic tattoo of his name inked on his mid-section. I had lost count how many times my face had reddened at his presence tonight already.

He traced circles on my wrist before sliding his gentle fingers up my arm. He brushed a fallen lock of hair from my shoulder, the tips of his fingers brushing against my neck. I bit my tongue and drew in a breath to prevent me from whimpering out a sound.

Sliding his fingers into the woven, pinned mess of my hair, he grasped the back of my head and yanked my head up to look up at him. Several pins flew from my hair and I fought the tears and the scream that threatened to escape from me. Pain roaring in my scalp, I squeezed my fist tighter, stinging my palm even more, to the point where I was certain I had drawn blood.

Joker didn't hide the serious, yet thirsty, expression on his features. He brought his lips to my ear and closed the remaining space between us by reaching his other hand around to the small of my back and nudged me flush against him. "I guess that'll depend on you, Babydoll."

My head swam with many things; many of them horrifying, others confusing, and a few that I refused to name.

Finally, he released his grip on my hair and my back with as much force as he had used to seize me. I stumbled back with an audible gasp and took off towards the stairs. I clambered up the steps as the tall ceilings echoed his laughs and rang in my ears and into my brain.

Reaching the top of the landing, I hurled myself into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. I pressed against it with my back, my breathing escaping me in small shrieks. My body slid down to the floor and I grasped at my head, allowing the waterfall of tears to flow freely down my cheeks.

For the first time in my life, I didn't have a plan. My quick thinking didn't have a way to get me out of this right now.

I didn't know what to do.

Have you guys ever written a character for a fanfic that when you haven't written them for a while they just sort of give you two big middle-fingers up? Yeah, that was J for this chapter. He didn't want to cooperate because it had been so long since I'd last written him. Thankfully, he started to warm up to me again as I continued to keep writing drafts of how his scene could have gone until it felt natural again.

Thank you so much for reading! Reader shout-out to Samantha Moriarty for the kindest comment, and to all who have commented on my story. It means a lot to me and I am extremely thankful! Please feel free to favorite, follow, and review! Have a good one guys!