Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Gotham's Most Wanted - Part 4

Joker could feel her hand squeeze his as she spoke. Normally, if some rich little princess had said that to him, he would have scoffed and laughed in her face; but with this woman, he could hear the sincerity in her every word. The fact that she said that she could understand what he did, and why he was who he was, made him feel happy for some reason, She didn't seem to see him as some kind of crazed painted monster that others of her ilk did.

He knew she was telling the truth when she said she worked with the poor of Gotham; he'd seen pictures of her in the newspapers, but presumed at first that it was some kind of publicity stunt to make the Wayne's look good in the eyes of the masses. But as he listened to people in the streets, he had heard about her bringing food and clothing down to the shelters and the soup kitchens, making sure that the woman and children were taken care of, while the men trudged the streets looking for any kind of paid employment. He also knew that thanks to her, the poorest of the poor had received medical help, paying for doctors to come and administer to the sick and injured.

He had wanted to go to one of the shelters she worked at to see what she was doing personally, but given his high profile he had sent one of his followers instead. The reports he had got were glowing; being told that she rolled up her sleeved and helped anywhere and everywhere she could, not bothered by the smell or the dirt that by the end of the day she was covered in. At the time he had not believed that it was possible that a member of the rich class would care so much about the plebeians of Gotham city; but as the two sat together on the small bed, he finally believed it, he believed in her. She was still a Wayne, but she was certainly no Sheriff of Nottingham, in fact, as he got to know her better, he would very much like for her to become his Maid Marion.

He squeezed her hand back, not knowing whether it was as a reassurance for her or for himself; or whether it was a thank you for her saying she understood. Whichever one it was, Joker just liked the fact that she was holding his hand.

"Do ya hate it that much?" He asked suddenly.

"Hate what?" (Y/n) asked, her eyebrows furrowing at his sudden strange question.

"The bed."

(Y/n) couldn't help but giggle slightly, after all the things she had just said to him, the only thing he seemed to focus on was the bed.

"I'm sure it's a very nice, comfortable bed, its just, well.........I just can't get past the fact of what might have happened in it, and how often, and with how many people." She said, scrunching up her nose.

Joker couldn't help but laugh, he knew she was right, Lizzie's girls would most certainly have used the room for entertaining their clients, and even though he was sure that the sheets would have been changed, he could sort of understand her discomfort with the idea. He was sure that she had never slept in anything less than a King sized bed, with the finest linens, caressing her soft skin, and their was part of him that wanted to tell her just to get her ass in the bed and stop being so damn prissy; but there was the other part, that part that had brushed his thumb across her cheek in the woods, the part that found himself still holding her hand, that wanted to make her feel comfortable and safe.

"Ya can have mine if ya like. I mean....... I can change rooms with ya if you hate it that much. I don't sleep much, and you might feel safer in my room anyway, its outta the way of Lizzie and her girl's business.

(Y/n) couldn't help but smile at the painted man; despite the thick layer of white makeup that covered his features, she was sure that she could see a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks that matched the colour that she could feel come to her own face.

"Er.....well if you are sure. I don't want to kick you out of your room, the floor isn't as hard as it looks." She said with a smile.

"I'm sure, now come on before I change my mind." He said pulling her to her feet by the hand he was still holding and pulling her through the door.