Includes lyrics from 'At Last' by Ella Fitzgerald.
"What do you mean he wants me?" (Y/n) asked nervously, as she stared at Don, the manager of the club at which she sang.
"Exactly what I said (Y/n). Joker bought out the entire club for the night, and he demanded that you be the only one to perform. What the hell was I supposed to say?" Don told her, appearing no less anxious at the prospect of having Joker in his little jazz club, than (Y/n) was about having to perform.
"So, you are telling me that Arthur Fleck, Joker, the god damn psycho killer clown prince of crime himself asked for me, by name?" (Y/n) asked, now pacing the dressing room apprehensively, as she contemplated coming face to face with man, she had seen kill Murray Franklin in cold blood on the TV.
Don nodded his head. "Not only that but, he wants you to wear this." Don told her, pulling out a beautiful long gown that was exactly the same colour as Joker's infamous suit, from behind the dressing room door.
(Y/n) took it in her hands, she had to admit it was gorgeous, and she couldn't help but think that the killer clown had exceptional taste; but it was still a little creepy.
"Oh great, this colour should cover the blood stains nicely when he shoots me." (Y/n) said, dropping into the chair behind her, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Don't be so melodramatic (Y/n), he's not gonna shoot you; he must like you if he asked for you personally." Don tried to reassure her.
"Melodramatic? MELODRAMATIC!? Have you been living under a rock? The man has killed goodness knows how many people, he has bought Gotham to its knees, and has watched it burn to ashes. Now he has asked for me by name, stipulated what I should wear, even the song I have to sing, and you say he must like me. None of that is making me feel any better about this you know." (Y/n) said sarcastically, as Don crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in his.
"Look kid, you know I wouldn't ask you to do this if I had any other option, but as it is I don't; what Joker wants, Joker gets." Don told her, squeezing her hands in a vain attempt to comfort the young woman.
(Y/n) sighed, she knew that Don was right, he really did have no choice and nor did she; what Joker wants, Joker gets, and if you didn't believe that, then you probably wouldn't be alive too long. She tried to comfort herself with the fact that of all the people that Joker had killed, they had all done him wrong in some way; the three men on the train were bullying him, and admittedly Franklin had been a complete dick to him when they had shown Arthur Fleck's failed stand-up routine on his show, so she just hoped that she and Joker had not bumped into one another when he was Arthur.
"Ok Don. What Joker wants; Joker gets." (Y/n) told a slightly happier looking Don.
"Good girl, now you better get changed and warmed up, Joker and his entourage are due to be here at 7." Don told her, as he looked at the clock, before opening the door to leave.
"Just do what you do every performance (Y/n) and knock him dead." Don said, leaving her to contemplate what could be a very short future if she didn't knock him dead.
After finishing her hair and makeup (Y/n) put on the dress that Joker had stipulated she wear. To say it was slightly scandalous would be an understatement. The back of the dress was cut down so low that it exposed all of her body right down to the small of her back; the front plunged so dramatically that if it had gone down any further she would have been arrested for indecent exposure.
As she made her finishing touches, (Y/n) had to admit that she felt strangely sexy, there was something about being so exposed that made her feel vulnerable, yet excited; and the thought of appearing in such a garment in front of a man like Joker, was unexpectedly, making her insides heat up in the most wonderful ways.
As she looked in the mirror, a small knock came to the door as Don opened it slowly.
"You ready kid? These er......... gentlemen, are here to escort you out to the front." Don said, opening the door fully to reveal two of Joker's mask wearing followers.
As (Y/n) looked at the pair of clowns she took a deep breath, if this was going to be her last performance then she was going to do it in style.
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Joker sat comfortably in the intimately small venue; it wasn't his first time at the club, in fact when he was Arthur it had been one of the only places that he hadn't minded spending time with others. The crowds had normally been pretty laid back in nature, and the subtle lighting, and easy going atmosphere had always made the usually shy Arthur feel comfortable, and he had spent many a night happily listening to the mellow sophisticated sounds of the jazz music as it drifted through the club. But under his outward shows of appreciation for the music, his real reason for returning to the club was more primal; he returned because of her.
Simply called The Songbird by the club, (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n) was Arthur's favourite singer, and from the moment he had first laid eyes on her in the venue, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. She was always so elegant, and to Arthur, she was exquisitely beautiful; she had long black hair that had subtle highlights of blue through it, and eyes that were the same colour as the sky before a thunder storm, and appeared equally as turbulent and dangerous.
Her voice was like warm honey when she sang, dripping with seduction and desire, and Arthur would have gladly drown in it if she had let him. He would sit watching her, wide eyed and opened mouthed as she sauntered around the tables, crooning to the assembled patrons, her body swaying seductively to the music.
As Arthur, he had never dared speak to her, too scared of rejection to open up his heart, instead he admired her from afar hoping that one day her eyes would meet his; but now as Joker it was a different story. He was no longer the meek and mild mannered doormat that everyone used to walk over, now he was the king of Gotham, the clown prince of crime, and what he wanted he would have, and what he wanted now was (Y/n).
He had given her the perfect dress, stipulated the perfect song, and it was all going to be for him, an intimated performance that was made just for a king. He had told the owner that no one else was to be in the room when she performed, even the band and his followers were not allowed to be present; what was about to happen was for his eyes only.
He sat in a large chair, his fingers drumming on the arm of the seat as he waited for his followers to bring her out from her dressing room, the anticipation was killing him, he had arranged everything with the owner so that it would be perfect, and now he just needed the star of the show.
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As his followers escorted her before him, Joker couldn't believe his eyes; she was more beautiful than he could ever have imagined, the dress was wonderfully shameful, and gave him the perfect view of what he wanted more than anything, and what he wanted more than anything was that body.
He couldn't help but smile, as he saw her straighten herself, trying not too look intimidated at being in his presence; he enjoyed the fact that he was now viewed as more dominant, strong, and judging by the subtle nervous shake as she stood there, his new demeanour was definitely having the desired effect on her.
"Well, don't you look wonderfully salacious, in that risqué little number. You must admit that I have a wonderful eye when it comes to complimenting a woman's figure, particularly yours my beautiful little songbird." Joker said, his eyes mentally removing what little material there was left clinging to (Y/n)'s body.
"Now I believe that I paid for you for the night my dear (Y/n), and I would very much like to hear the song that I have requested; I want to hear that hot honey voice of yours, I want to feel it kiss my body as you make me believe every word." Joker told the woman, whose skin was glowing with a deliciously sinful heated hue.
(Y/n) gulped deeply, desperately trying to swallow the large lump in her throat that was threatening to choke her. As the imaginary music began to swim through her mind, she began to sing.
"At last my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Oh yeah, yeah."
(Y/n) swayed forward, swinging her hips just that little more than she normally would as she got closer to the deadly clown.
"At last the skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped in clover
The night I looked at you."
Joker found himself reaching for her as she turned around just in front of him, revealing her bare flesh, the muscles in her back moving like a big cat stalking its prey as she rocked to the silent music. He brushed his fingers down her naked spine, feeling the wicked shiver that shot through her.
"I found a dream that I can speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
A thrill I've never known
Oh yeah, yeah"
Joker stood up, and wrapped his slender arms around her body, his lips kissing the tender skin of her neck.
"You smiled and then the spell was cast
And here we are in Heaven
For you are mine at last"
As she finished singing, Joker's fingers gently danced over each of her vertebrae, his warm breath fanning her neck as he bit down onto the lobe of her ear.
"You were amazing my little songbird, and you look stunning in that dress; but I believe that it would look even better on my bedroom floor. What do you think?" Joker hummed in her ear, as his hands caressed every inch of skin that was exposed.
(Y/n) wanted to say no, to deny the king of Gotham his sordid desires, but despite herself she couldn't. Her body was screaming out for him to touch her, for him to kiss her, for him to take her in every way imaginable, and as he whispered his depraved wants into her ear, the smell of his pheromones filled her senses, and she could deny him nothing.
"Whatever Joker wants, Joker gets." She purred, as Joker chuckled, biting down onto the supple flesh of her shoulder.
"If you keep that in mind my love, and this will be a very long enjoyable night." Joker told her, as he took her hand and made for the door. Arthur may not have been able to have the songbird, but as Joker, whatever he wants he gets.