Joker x Reader ~ Over Coffee

(Y/N) POV

I set myself down at a corner booth in a quiet coffee shop in the middle of town to do some work. A waiter walked to my booth and placed a green tea chai latte on the table next to one of my many notebooks. I stared at the green drink for a while before shouting back at the tall lady who held the tray the drink had once travelled on.

"Hey, I didn't order anything!"

"True, but I did." The chilling familiar voice reached my ears before he sat on the empty bench across from me. "Hello again. Good to see you, (y/n)."

"Joker. I left that life a long time ago," I grumbled, turning back to my work. A pale hand closed the laptop that sat in front of me, his face still smiling as he looked me in the eyes with a serious aura to him.

"I'm only asking for help with something, the tea latte is a peace offering." I chuckled, his eyes still gazing into mine as he leaned back. "This is the only time, I promise."

"Sure, next thing I know we'll be doing this again." I shook my head, "Jay, I'm sorry. I can't." He nodded, looking down at the floor before taking out an envelope with chicken scratch written on it.

"This is all I ask, Abominable Angel. You are the only one I can trust these days," Joker sighed, resting the package on my laptop. Through all my years of knowing the infamous Joker, I had gotten used to his writing and antics. The name was just of that of a banker with too much power, a simple job with personal ties. Grabbing the cup, I sipped as I watched him sift through my notes with ease.

"What's in it for me, Jay?" I questioned, noticing his white face twitch a bit. I sat back, waiting as he quickly glanced around the small coffee shop before locking eyes with me, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Whatever you want or I can choose once the job is done," he grinned, releasing my eyes to scan my body. I could tell he was undressing me at this point; I stopped his eyes when I stretched out my hand.

"I don't see why not. It's a deal," I hummed, grasping his pale hand in my (s/c) one. With a small handshake, I watched him walk off with a little skip in his strange walk. I looked down at my closed hand, opening it to see a newspaper clipping announcing a new purchase by Bruce Wayne. An evil grin spread across my face as I began to pack up and tip the waiter as I passed her.