‹ Prequel: Give Me a Smile
Sequel: Smile With Me
Status: Finished

Smile for Me

Animated Series

When I finally tied off the last stitch on Joker’s chest, he leaned down to kiss my forehead, scarred lips rough against my skin. It was a confusing and uncharacteristically gentle gesture, and I looked up with narrowed eyes. His hand cupped the back of my neck, thumb ghosting over my tattoo.

“Look at, ha, you, my bloody, broken angel,” he murmured, grinning loosely at me. “So goddamn pretty, I just wanna destroy you.” He bent down to kiss my scars, rubbing his face against mine. I smiled, enjoying the attention. I was special. I was his. “Hey, Quinnie, do you, ha, what do you think about more, oh, tattoos?”

I thought of the time, six years before, when he spoke of covering me in tattoos, making my body a piece of art.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

I should’ve been expecting it, but I still jumped when he sprayed gas in my face and the world went black.

I woke up on the couch, with the familiar murmur of TV in the background.

I yawned and stretched, forcing myself to croak, “Joker?”

“Hiya, Quinnie.”

I shifted onto my side, stopping when pain ran through my fingers. They had healed, so the pain was new.

“What’d you do to my hand?” I cracked my eyes open and flexed my fingers until my vision stopped blurring. He’d tattooed my fingers with card symbols. Hearts, clovers, spades, and diamonds covered each finger of my right hand. The effect was kind of mesmerizing, like an optical illusion. I glanced up at Joker and smiled. “This looks nice. Why’d you get it for me?”

He grinned lazily, producing a deck of cards out of nowhere. He fanned them out and began shuffling, better than any Vegas professional.

“Because I like cards, Quinnie. I, haha, like to gamble.” He took a card from the deck and held it between two fingers. A Joker card. He smiled and offered it to me. “This is your card.”

I laughed and took it from him, careful with my sore hand.

“Thank you.” He settled next to me on the couch, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in a while. Hands on his thighs, head bowed, almost completely still. His eyes were on me, but they were calm, a little sleepy. I wondered why. “Why do I have to be unconscious to get tattooed?”

He shrugged, not smirking like usual. I had the feeling his answer was honest.

“It’s, ha, easier to bring you where I, er, want to go when you’re, hoo, sleeping. And, uh, can’t let you know all my secrets.”

I blew idly at the tattoos on my fingertips and nodded.


He nodded slowly and patted my head.

“Good girl, Quinnie.”

I moved to sit on the floor, between his feet. The news was on some boring weather report by then, so I rested my head against his knee.

“How’d it go with Killer Croc?”

He chuckled, running his nails through my short hair.

“Good enough, ah, besides Batsy. Got some, ha, pretty new stones. Paid Croc with two emeralds and a sapphire. Dunno what he wants them for. Croc, ah, doesn’t use money.”

“Did you use Scarecrow’s toxin yet?”

He moved my head back to look up at him. He was smirking.

“Have you, ha!, heard of a bunch of really sleepy people lately, ha, hmm?” I shook my head no as he let me go. “There’s your answer.”
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The Joker: Joker's back from the grave! The Penguin: Yeah, a lot of that going around.