Tonight, You're Gonna Break Your One Rule

It had been two days since we'd videoed the girls, sent the tape to Commissioner Gordon, and dumped them where we’d said. I had grinned even wider when we'd checked on them, ten minutes before midnight. The middle girl, still tied to her chair, was slumped forward, her shirt stained blood red. The two other girls were a way away from their chairs, one was dead, shot in the chest. The other, gun closest to her, had a streaming, near-fatal wound in her leg, perilously close to the main artery in her thigh. I had stooped down and checked her pulse, dead, bled to death probably. I called to two of the henchmen, made a promise to myself to learn their names, and we carried the three corpses upstairs to the van. I giggled too, Gordon was going to be a little too late no matter what time he got the message.

So two days later, my mood was high-spirited, word of the girls had got around, and everyone was scared. With the city covered in fear, even without Scarecrow's toxins, the Jokers spirits were high, and it was easy enough for me to persuade him to let the henchmen have a night off. They weren't going to run off, I assured him, and all it took was a grin and a little 'magic trick' with my hands.

I grinned wide, as I pulled on the faded purple shirt previously strewn across the bed and ran my hands through my hair. I grabbed an elastic band from the top of my dresser, and pulled my hair back into a low, messy ponytail. I dig my bare toes into the carpet and smile to myself, and make for the door as I adjust the simple pair of shorts I'd also donned that evening.

We'd decided to have a night in, just Jack and Cally, no one else, have a romantic meal and just spend some quality time, like a real couple. My muscles seemed to jitter in anticipation as I crossed the hallway to the kitchen. I knocked lightly, purely for courtesy, and slipped into the room. I smiled at the dim light, the room illuminated by a few candles dotted across the counters and in the middle of the table. They illuminated my Jack's face perfectly as he looked up, carried two plates to the table, set them down and turned to me. He opened his arms, and I gratefully slipped into them, exhaling softly as he wrapped his strong arms around me. I glance over my shoulder, on tiptoes, to look at the table; two bowls of soup either side of the small table.

"This looks so nice," I say softly, as Jack gives me one last squeeze, before we carefully take our places. Despite having a lavish meal – three courses of lovingly prepared food, something we never did since we were always on the go – we hadn't dressed up, me in my favourite shirt and comfy shorts, and Jack simply in his shirt and pants. He smiled at me so beautifully through the candlelight, and we felt no need for words, just reaching our hands across the table to link our fingers. I carefully ate the soup we'd prepared earlier, and I was grateful for the prepared, proper meal.

We didn't talk too much, just compliments, quiet conversation, the bond between us not needing words, just staring gazes, unable to tear away from each other, and a tight handhold across the table.

"I love you," I murmur to his hunched back, as he places our bowls into the sink, and finished preparing the main meal.

"I love you too Cally, beyond everything you could ever imagine," He murmurs back, looking over his shoulder and smiling. His scars captivated me, bare without their makeup. We're both bare faced tonight, just simple skin, and I'd missed seeing his tan complexion. As he sits down, setting our plates in front of us, I reach out with a soft hand and cup his cheek. He tilts his head towards my hand, and kisses it briefly. I blush and bow my head towards our meal, picking up my fork.

Maybe an hour later, I pick up our dessert plates, setting them into the sink and turning back towards Jack. He watches me in every detail as I slide into my chair and rest my chin on my hands. We stare, just watching each other, and I can feel the buzz of electricity I haven’t felt for a while between us. I felt heat, and a need between us, and suddenly my breath seems a little more laboured.

"C'mere," Jack murmurs, barely moving his lips and he reaches for me across the table. I climb up onto it, captivated by those pools of fire, and Jack tugs me towards him. I sweep my arm across the table, knocking the candles and leftover cutlery onto the floor, light guttering before slowly dimming, and crawl forward a little more. I sit on the table, a leg either side of him, and he sits up a little more. He stretches his body towards me, and I shuffle so I'm barely perched on the edge of the table, tangling my hands through his hair.

Our lips meet fleetingly, and I can almost see the electricity leaping between our flesh. I exhale softly, a last moment of calm, before I tug sharp on green hair, lose all my inhibitions, and I can feel only one thing.

Lust.

And it grabs me, winds its fiery vines around me and tugs on every limb, pulling me like a puppet to tug on green hair and hook my legs around his stomach. I giggle into our kiss, feeling happiness and need bubbling up through my throat, forcing the tinkling sound through a gap in our lips.

I hear a gasp slip through Jack's maimed lips and grin, moving my hands to the undone collar of his shirt, and tugging it towards me. Jack grunts, wrapping his arms solidly around my torso, and picking me up. I feel weightless, hooking my legs round his waist. The bottle and a half of wine we'd drunk throughout our meal had loosened my inhibitions even more, and now, along with the alcohol running through me, I had laughter leaping from my throat, as Jack lowered us both onto the table.

I pull him even closer, gasping desperately for breath as our lips ravage scars and ache for flesh. I exhale as Jack sits up, half lying, and half leaning against the table. He pulls me up with him, and we stumble back, still kissing, desperate.

Jack's chair tumbles to the floor as we stagger, and the pile of crockery on the work surface falls to the ground, as I clutch behind me, falling against the counter. It crashes and cracks where my feet would've been a second before, but Jack and I are already snatching at the door handle. Jack's bare hands dance past me to the door, and it opens outwards, my aching bodyweight pushing it open so I almost fall into the hall. Jack pulls my pelvis closer to his, and I hook one leg around his hips, letting him drag me like a dance partner across our deserted hideout.

We fall through the white room as the heavy door clinks shut behind us, but we don’t hear it, just ragged breaths and the sound of snapping threads as we pull on each other's clothes. My shirt finally falls to the floor as we reach the comfort and privacy of our bedroom, and as Jack picks me up, arms round my ribcage, my foot kicks up, catching my shirt and throwing it over the bed.

By this time the wine and euphoria had given me the giggles, and they racked my body as Jack spun me round, pulling us both onto the bed with a throaty laugh. I shift my position on top of him and pin him there with hard, clenched hands in his hair. They shift quickly as I feel my clown's muscle twitch against mine, and quickly pull his shirt off, throwing it over mine so the two shirts mould into one. The loose shorts I'd pulled on maybe two hours before fall from my hips as I stand into a small crouch, before kicking them off. My clowns hands quickly moulds to my thighs, and pick me up, pulling me back against his pelvis as he exhales. He was gasping, desperate, and I giggle a little as I quickly pull off his dress pants, letting them fall out of sight. As Jack pulls me back down against our pillows and his lips reach to kiss me again I pull back, a soft symphony of giggles cascading from my lips.

Jack frowns, his soft, usually hidden eyebrows furrowing together for an instant, before his grip on me tightens, and he goes for my lips again.

I grin wide, "Nuh-uh!" I tease, baring my teeth in a cheesy smile.

"Tease," He mutters softly, and I can see something brewing in his eyes, as his fingers dig into my thighs and he tries to kiss me again. I waggle my finger at him once more, and grin, one eye quickly winking at him.

"Cally," He warns, a deep, guttural growl, the Joker, not Jack. I grin, getting at him. I wanted something a little different tonight, I was being a bitch, teasing him, and as one hand rested on his bare chest I feel his heart beat hard and fast.

I lean down and kiss his clavicle, a fleeting brush of the lips, before I look back up at him under my hair, "Am I being bad, Mistah J?"

He furrows his eyebrows for a second more, before grinning and realising. He was angry, but I could see the air of playfulness brewing in him, and I giggle a little more, staring right into those pools of fire.

"Are ya gonna punish me Mistah J?"

He growls under his breath and flips us over, his weight heavy on me as he pins my hands above my head with white-tipped fingers. I was suddenly aware of cool metal against my palm, and realised Jack, or the Joker, must've grabbed his knife from the bedside table as he rolled us over. I look up and him with a laugh, eyes shining in anticipation.

"Go on, hurt me Mistah J," I tease under my breath, and I see the Joker's chest rise and fall, anger with each breath. His hands quickly twist and my shoulder is pinned horribly above my head, my fingers and wrist of one hand wrenched around so my back is arching in the pain. He leans down to kiss me and I turn my head away, teasing and laughing. His lips chase me, and I finally let them capture me, pulling me into a torrent of passion. My head is forced back into the pillows, and I finally start kissing back, until the Joker pulls away, and this time he's grinning and I'm bewildered. He sits back on his ankles, on the top of my thighs, and I see the mental of his knife glint in the small amount of light. I gasp as white tipped hands caress my lower stomach, dancing between my hipbones. The Joker laughs, before leaning down a little, his knife digging into my skin.

I tilt my head right back, stretching out my neck and arching my back at the pain and pleasure that spread itself around my body. I reach back, blind with fear, and pain, and exhilaration and lust, and grab onto the headboard, digging crescents into its wood as screams of joy and agony spill from my lips.

I clench my eyes shut, "Ja-" No, not Jack, not right now. When his lips were against mine and we were in our own world he was Jack, when his knife was in my flesh and I was a screaming hench-wench, he was the Joker.

"Mistah J!" My back arched, I feel small streams of blood run down my abdomen and legs, and I can hear the Joker laughing under his breath, one hand firmly just below my belly button to keep my still, and another wrapped around my hipbone.

"Omigo-" I try to say, but he digs the knife in a little harder, telling me to be quiet with a small giggle.

He finished with a flourish, and drops his knife onto the stained sheets next to us. He grabs his shirt from the end of the bed and presses it to my abdomen, looking up at me with shining eyes and yellow, grinning teeth.

"I love you." I breathe. Shit, I was breathless; my vision was swimming as I felt the pressure of his shirt and hands on my stomach, a sinking feeling as I struggled onto my elbows to see his artwork.

'Property Of J. Napier' is carved so beautifully in his messy hand, the small streaks of blood now pink tinges down my legs, "Oo, pretty," I whisper, smiling up at him. Despite the pain in my stomach, seeing my Jack, now smiling down at me, his hair falling like curtains and his eyes shining like stars, made me forget about everything else, except me, him, and the knife laying so innocently next to us.

I keep Jack's gaze as my fingers slowly wrap round the smooth, metal handle. My other hand drags up Jack's chest to his shoulder, where, in one movement, I push on his chest, and roll us over, so I'm on top, placing the knife in my other hand against his neck.

"My turn," I mutter darkly, and laugh under my breath. The pain in my stomach was immense, but along with it came pleasure, and with the Joker's skin pressed against mine nothing else seemed to matter. I laugh a little louder as I look up. Jack's spine is arched as far as it can, and his nails ripping the sheets beneath us. His eyes are rolled back white in his head and he's hissing through his teeth, a soft rasping sound. I finish carving my initials, along with a jagged heart, into his collarbone. I throw the knife down beside me, and it catches on my thigh as I pull myself upwards, hands in Jack's hair, and crash my lips against his. I breathe heavy as our lips unstuck for a second, and the blood is pounding through my limbs. The pain flares in my stomach as we twist over, Jack pulling on my hips so we switch places and I'm trapped under him. I reach up, aching for him, and wrap my arms tightly around his neck.

We take a second to untangle our limbs before Jack grunts softly, his teeth biting my bottom lip. I gasp and buck my hips up so our pelvis' knock together and I feel him inside me. I keep gasping, breath eluding me in steamy clouds above our heads as Jack's tongue winds it way down my neck, pressing soft kisses to my clavicle, before venturing back up and capturing my lips in our violent kiss.

I bend my fingers round his neck like a dead man clinging to life, digging my nails so far into his flesh that a trickle of blood runs down my arm. His flesh rocks against mine and my lungs ache. My abdomen screams from the exertion and I wrap my legs tight around Jack's thighs to hold him there forever. Time seems to stop and all I hear is Jack against me, breathing and murmuring and shifting. He exhales softly and I buck my hips against, pushing myself against him and savouring the last moment like the meal only an hour before. I hold myself against him tightly, bloody nails in his neck and caged legs round his thighs. Our lips stick together so we're breathing in one and I open my eyes, seeing the dark circles of insomnia around his fire eyes. I smile widely into our lasting kiss and simply look up, seeing heaven.

I don’t quite know how or when we move, if we stayed there for hours or seconds, next thing I pay attention to is Jack's body beside me, his hand pressed soft against my abdomen, "Sorry Precious," He whispers into my hair, and I shake my head softly, my hand reaching up behind and beside me to glide over his fresh cuts.

"Don't be stupid Jack," I say softly, still breathless and in a trance, "I love it, I love you. I am yours, forever."

Jack simply presses his lips hard into my fading hair, and I exhale softly, closing my eyes. I lose track of time, the clock in my head has stopped ticking, and I lie there, as Jack carefully pulls the sheets over us, and pulls me back into his arms.

"Cally," He whispers so carefully into my ear, "We got a big job planned in the next few weeks. The biggest cash store in Gotham, it's gonna be dangerous but we're gonna do it, and blow the place up afterwards too." He kisses my head again softly, then my temple, then the corner of my scar, "Time to show everyone this city is ours."

I twist my neck around and laugh against his lips, before capturing them in a gentle kiss, "I can't wait, my Jack."