Angelface Zephyr Wayne was a pretty girl, but not conventionally pretty, oh no. She was a bit mousy and very insecure. She'd been adopted by Bruce Wayne after somebody threw her parents in front of a bus.
She was now entering Arkham, because she was a troubled girl and needed psychiatric help. She walked timidly into the high security block, because for some weird reason she had to walk past the cells of a bunch of serial killers to get to her appointment.
"Herp a derp derp," the secretary had helpfully offered before sending her on her merry way.
She walked past the Joker's cell. He jumped up and ran to the small slot in his cell door. He had never seen such an interesting teenage girl before. She was very special.
"Hey there, buttercup," he said.
She blushed and stared at her toes. Everyone said the Joker was a mass murdering terrorist. But she had always felt bad for him. And deep down in her heart she knew he was just misunderstood.
"You look like you need some excitement in your life, sweetheart."
She twiddled her thumbs and bit her lower lip.
"I've always felt sorry for you," she said.
He smiled. But behind his smile there was a tear. There were tears coming from his eyes. They fell from his eyes, down, down onto the floor. They were the tears of a clown. He was crying.
"I can see you think with your heart, gorgeous."
"You look like you could use a sweet," she said, offering up a slice of the most delicious chocolate cake.
He dug in like some sort of famished, civilized beast. He opened his lips wide, the scars on his cheeks a vibrant vermilion. His eyes were dark and filled with insanity. He chewed loudly, a chaotic cacophony of sound issuing from his open lips. He stopped and stared at her.
"Hahaha," he said, his trademark laugh sending shivers up and down her spine, then up again.
She tried to think of something sassy to say, but failed. So she just stared lustfully. He was like a demon straight from hell, he was. And she? She was like a lamb to the slaughter. A lamb ready for a relationship.
"None of what people say or do makes sense to you, does it, sweet-cheeks?"
She said something vacuous. In his eyes she could see a grudging respect for her.
"Y'see, beautiful, all the others are schemers. But you, you're not."
He tapped the steel of his door.
"See this, darling? Logic says this oughta keep me in. But you and me, we both know that's not true. Nobody wants to read about schemes or stuff that makes sense. And so…"
He knocked against the door and it disappeared in a cloud of glittering smoke.
"Ta-da! It's, ah, gone. Cause we want romance, bootylicious, we want action."
He scooped her up in his manly man arms. Her heart fluttered.
"Nobody cares about the details. They just want the magic, doll."
And so they ran off towards the exit.
"Herp a derp derp!" the security guards screamed after them.
But they did not hear, for they were madly in love. They lived happily ever after. Or until the next day, for that was when Summer Skie, the long lost sister of Rachel Dawes, arrived. But that's another, if frighteningly similar, story.
AN: Always wanted to try my hand at romance.