Drenched in Blood

French rarely saw the Joker, Chaos or Little J, formerly known as Robin. The Joker sometimes came in and flopped on the bed late at night and would sleep for only a couple of hours. Sometimes, French wondered if the Joker had been so sexual the day they caught Little J because he knew they wouldn't see eachother much afterwards.

Chaos was finally contempt because the Joker was giving her as much as attention as he was giving Little J. She was also excited about having a 'brother.' Since he had forgotten most things, he didn't know that there was ever a batman and that he wasn't their blood. The Joker told him that he was his father, French was his mother, and Chaos was his sister. Chaos was perfectly fine with calling him her brother. She had kind of wanted someone younger to talk to. The Joker figured Chaos would forget that he wasn't really her brother when she was older, because she was so young.

Most of the time, French moped around feeling lonely, talking to herself about the Joker and Chaos. One night, she pretended to be asleep when the Joker came in and flopped on the bed, it was earlier than normal. She peeped over at him then she poked him in the shoulder. He opened one eye, groggily and stared at her.

"What?" he snapped, glaring at her.

"When can they take a break? French is just five, Little J is just eleven," she whispered, not feeling as courageous.

The Joker studied her for a second and then he smirked, "You, ah, miss them, don't you?"

She looked at him, angry he had caught on so easily, "She's my daughter too. I deserve to see-"

"What you deserve, is what I will allow you to have," he snapped, setting up in the bed.

"I am not yours, Goddammit, you are so annoying," she hit him in the chest with the palms of her hands.

He grabbed both of her wrists in his hand and looked at her evenly, "You are so annoying," he mocked.

The feeling of his hands roughly holding her wrists made her stomach squirm yearningly, "Joker," she breathed, "I just want to see her again."

He touched her lips with his finger, like he was trying to smooth the creases of them. He bent his forehead to touch hers, his hot breath landed on her lips, making her body tingle, "You, ah, see her every morning," he bent his neck so his lips touched her neck, "I think that you are, ah, missing someone else, hmm? Someone more, ah, clowny, hmm?"

She ignored the fact that what he was saying was right, "No one misses what they hate," she replied, pretending to be angry.

The Joker nibbled on her neck, finally letting go of her wrists, "I hate you just as much as you, ah, hate me, maybe more."

"Are you saying you miss me?" she teased.

He bent up from her neck and crashed his lips against hers hungrily, "No," he murmured against them.

His hands slid up her body undoing all the buttons on the shirt she had, he pulled it off then resumed kissing her exposed skin. They quickly undressed eachother and he hovered there for a second above her, making her body tingle in anticipation and then suddenly he entered her roughly and uncaringly. Pain and ecstasy filled her body and she let out a small stifled moan.

* * *

French closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillow, satisfied. To her surprise, the Joker kissed her on the top of the head and rolled off of her and faced the other direction and fell asleep. Usually, he just fell asleep on top of her and didn't care if she started getting to hot or couldn't breath right because of his sturdy weight. She secretly smiled to herself and fell into a deep sleep.