The First

Oneshot

It happened as if it was yesterday. He remembered her bright purple hair, her ice eyes, the pallor look she had. She was his everything, and he was only part of her.

"Why so glum, chum?" Her voice was always airy. Her words flowed from her mouth like a jester's jokes. Simple, easy, flawless.
The Joker looked up from laughing, and glared at her outstretched hand, "Oh Hun, there's nothing glum about me." He grinned wickedly, his reddened lips lining his shiny teeth.
"Take a joke, doll." She cackled, and before he knew what was happening, she pushed her hand against his bare shoulder, pushing him back into oblivion.

She was the only one who got him going. He hated it and she reveled in it. She always set a fire in his heart when she smiled.

Flames licked the buildings, surrounding it; grasping desperately to anything to hold onto. However, it magically stayed away from what was intended to burn, as if it was a sign. And boy did she take it as one. "Come on!! Is this the best you got, Hun!?" The Joker laughed maniacally, as if he wasn't tied to a tree, the fire burning under him. She had decided she was done with him, and wanted to watch him burn. His eyes were wide with adrenaline, and his mouth was upturned so much, it practically spread across his entire face. "Bring it bitch!"
Picking up the bucket she had, she threw it at him; the contents dousing the fire, while the bucket hit him square in the face. Blood sprayed from his nose, dripping down his chin. "Come hither, doll." She whispered to him, her voice low, dangerous. He could hear the lust in her voice and it shook him to the core. Never had he heard such lust; so much drive behind lust. It was as if it fed her, and in return, it became his fuel.

She knew how to cheer him up on his bad days, and he as well. It wasn't hard for either of them, since they both liked the same things. They always had to have a smile on their face as they did it.
The Joker stared lovingly at her. He watched as she repeatedly slammed the rock down, Gotham's skyline behind her. The guy had long since passed, but The Joker knew. He knew she loved the feeling of flesh squishing and breaking under her power. She got off on it, and it slowly started to get him off. Both breathing heavily, him from lust, her from bashing someone's skull in, she straightened up. Blood covered them almost completely, and he couldn't help but lick his lips. "Baby, you turn me on."
She turned her head down to him, as she was a bit higher up, "Shut up." He went to growl, but stopped when she spoke again, "Take off your clothes right now." Oh how he loved when she dominated. He only submitted to her. And only ever would.

Even after she was long gone, she remained the only one The Joker would ever listen to. The only one who could get him off completely, and still leave him begging for more. She was his siren. She was the first and only.