I Think You and I Are Destined to Do This Forever

My hand twitched, wanting to pull my Beretta out of my panties and blow holes so large in this clown faced prince, and he would be cut in half. I refrained, only because I was outnumbered by 6, including the Joker, and that, well, I wanted to know what he wanted from me. I’ve read up about the Joker. I lived in Gotham, how could I not? And he didn’t seem to be the type to make unexpected visits and 11 at night.

I stood there staring at him in all his glory, eyes narrowed.

He sensed my displeasure and smiled that smile that would have sent shivers down any normal person’s spine, but I’m not a normal person, so his smile sent my heart into over drive. You see the life I chose doesn’t give me the privilege of white picket fences or nice fancy houses with a neat and smart husband inside. The chances of even finding someone to have a good fuck with and not having to kill afterwards are slim to none. My dream man isn’t a blonde prince in shinning armor and on a white steed, no, my dream man is sadistic, psychotic, murderous man with brains and a hint of sex added in the mix. Technically my dream man was standing in front of me, in all his glory, and I loved it. But to an extent.

I won’t fall for him. No, never. I’m attracted to him, yes. But I’m not one to give way to my heart. My heart pisses me off more than not, why the fuck would I listen to it now?

One of his men dropped the taco boy’s body as The Joker walked in the home I was currently living in, his goons following. I sighed and rolled my eyes and gently closed the front door.

All the goons made faces of disgust as they smelled my ‘roommates’. The Joker just scanned the room for the smell, face blank, and smiled when he his eyes landed on the body of the politician. He turned and looked at me, smirking. “Is this your handy-work Princess?”

I giggled loudly, making the goons jump and take steps away from me. “No shit Sherlock. Who else would have enough nads to do this besides you? Santa?” I snorted and walked into the living room, sitting on a black leather lazy-boy recliner. I pulled the lever and reclined back, my feet up. I wasn’t too worried about the Joker right now. If he came for a fight, he would’ve started it already.

“So, Joker, do what do I owe this little visit? You don’t seem to be the type to drop in just to bring me a dead Take-Out boy, although that would be flattering.” I giggled softly and smiled my million dollar smile.

He laughed and pushed the dead fat guy of the couch and sat on top of him at my feet. “I’m sure not, Princess. I have a proposition for you.”

I leaned forward. “Really now? And what would the Clown Prince of Gotham want from lil’ ol’ me?”

He smiled, a lopsided smile that sent my heart into overdrive, and leaned forward, “Well…..