Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Special Agent - Part 9

The final part to this imagine, although I wish I could carry on writing this one and take it further. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. ❤🃏😊

(Y/n) sat in her room, going through the mountains of paperwork that she already had from her interviews with Joker; a pile of recordings that she still had to go over, and write up, seemed to be mocking her, as she took a sip of the wine in her glass.

The last couple of days had passed too quickly, and tomorrow was her last day with Arthur; he had given her everything she needed, more information than she could ever have wished for, and he had also shown her how much he wanted her, their short interviews usually ending in him taking her in his arms, and kissing her until she could barely breath, whispering into her ear things that only lovers would say, and promises, promises that some day they would be together.

(Y/n) knew it was crazy, but there was a part of her that believed what he was saying was true, if anyone could find a way of getting out of Arkham, it would be Joker.

When (Y/n) had arrived back at the hotel after Joker had kissed her the first time, she had laid on her bed and sobbed; the emotions that were bombarding her body and mind had become too much to handle. Part of her was horrified at what seemed to be unfolding, terrified that she had become one of those crazed women that wrote to incarcerated violent criminals looking for love, terrified that she had succumb to the Bonnie and Clyde syndrome; but she had quickly ruled it out. She knew all about the psychology of those women, that some of them believed that they could change the man, others seeing the little boy that the killer used to be, and seeking to nurture that child; but the worst were the ones that wanted to share the media spotlight with their infamous love, wanted to make money from the deaths of their killers victims.

The last thing she wanted to do was change Joker, even his psychotic side had its appeal; she didn't want to mother him, she wanted to love him, and she would never want any of the spotlight that would shine on Joker if ever he was mentioned.

Instead, she had simply fallen in love with a man; not the killer clown, not the hype, not all the insane theories and conjecture that surrounded Arthur Fleck, she had fallen in love with a man that had been pushed too far, a man that had been sweet and sensitive, but was now strong and confident. She loved the man, and she didn't care whether it was Arthur or Joker, she would take both.

She had imagined what her father would have said if he had still been alive, what her mother would say if she ever found out; but it was her life, and sometimes you can't help who you fall in love with.

(Y/n) sighed as she got up from the sofa, placing the pile of paperwork on the table, as she walked over to look out of the window; for once it wasn't raining, and the lights of the city outside seemed to twinkle like the ones on the Christmas tree that her father would help her decorate every year when she was a child. She tried to smile at the memory, but the knowledge that tomorrow would be the last day she saw the man she loved, drowned out any happy thoughts.

Joker had told her to trust him, told her that he would fix everything, and even though she wanted to believe him, she had to be practical; she wouldn't be able to write to him, or phone him, or contact him in any other way, and she had to face the fact that getting to see him again would be difficult.

As she swirled the deep red liquid in her glass, her eyes focused on the city, a soft knock at her door brought her back to reality with a bump. With a sigh, she made her way to the door, her eyes widening with trepidation when she saw the figure of Detective Murray, waiting outside patiently.

"Detective Murray, to what do I owe the pleasure? It's a little early don't you think, you and Green don't normally come around until the early hours of the morning." (Y/n) said, smiling softly as she saw the apologetic look on the man's face.