It was late when Jerome walked through the bedroom door. He was dressed in the white and black 'strait-jacket' uniform, hair a mess, face beaming with his psychopathic excitement as usual; he closed the door behind him and stopped walking when he felt something amiss.

"Danica." He called out her name. "Kitten." No rustling of footsteps. No sounds of running to him. "I know you're in here, babe; I can smell you," he added, grinning.

No movement.

He uttered an enticed "Mmm," and strive further into the room. Jerome clicked his tongue curiously.

Then loudly, he whistled a piercing, wolf-whistle.

"You look really good," drawled the familiar voice from the adjoining bathroom, "in a strait jacket."

Jerome turned around to see Danica posed against the bathroom threshold, wearing an interesting piece of lingerie. Blue and black. Fish net stockings. A utility belt around her waist. And a badge flashed on her exposed chest, linked on a leather necklace.

What was more? She was drunk.

Jerome tongued the inside of his mouth.
"What is that?"

"A little preview, Darling." Danica drawled. "I'm not the only cop here to give live entertainment," she said with a loose grin. "Look."

She gestured behind him to show him the camera posted on the dresser, green light on. Ready to roll.

"Who is the filming for?" He asked.

"Whoever," Danica shrugged. "Who cares, right?"

Jerome chuckled darkly, striding towards her.

"Wanna have a little fun, do you?" Jerome said. "So there's a cop in the house? Dead?"

"If you want him to be," Danica said in a sing-song voice.

As Jerome drew closer, Danica withdrew the gun from her waist and put the barrel to his head. Jerome's eyes widened at first with surprise, then excited arousal. He cocked his head to the side.

"Ooh, I like this," he said happily. "Whatever has put you on this edge, I have to give it credit."

Danica held the gun with confidence at first, but her hand trembled when he showed no sign of fear.

"Have you ever shot anybody?" Jerome asked. "Do you want to shoot me? Oh, I'd love to see that."

"Do you love me?" Danica whispered, eyes glinting behind a boozed stupor. Her voice almost broke.

"What?" Jerome said.
"Do you love me?" said Danica carefully.

"Which answer will make you blow my brains out?" Jerome inquired. "See, I thought that you were doing this for fun, but really it's a ploy to get me to say that I love you?" He rolled his eyes. "How disappointing."

With ease, Jerome disarmed her. Danica gasped as he pushed her onto the bed; she landed on her back. She made to get back on her feet but-

She stared into the barrel of the gun. Jerome still beamed. He sighed.

"You know that you were much more fun in Arkham, right? You're supposed to get freaky and messy," he said, laughing. "Instead you're asking questions-yeah, I know that you went to Galavan after I told you not to-and now you're asking drama-tv stuff about '*Do you love me*'..." He mocked her voice in the heart-broken tone.

He waved the gun,
"And then you dress up as a cop and I thought this was going to be kinky and now you're just drunk. If you're going to mope, what's the point?"

"I'm confused." Danica answered him.

"Yeah? See, you're the only one who is." Jerome sighed. "Stop with the logic. That's my department. Stop asking questions, let me worry about that. And for God's sake," he said, tossing the gun at her, "if you ever put a gun to my head again, take the safety off and make sure it's actually loaded."

"There's a cop," Danica explained, "downstairs. I took him off duty and brought him back here for you to play with."

"You know what your problem is," Jerome ignored her. "You're so boring when you're sober. Now, I recognize that there's some psychopath deep down in you. I thought that I took her out when I got a hold of you"-he gestured to her facial scars-"but it looks like I have to try a little harder next time. I will cure you, babe, I promise. Then you can be by my side, throwing caution to the wind."

"Honey, I just want-"

Jerome growled irritably and pushed her back to the bed, abruptly crawling on top of her.

"Babe." He breathed. "Oh, I could kill you right now with your incessant-" he grabbed her throat. Then he paused. "You know what? I think I know how to push you. After all, it takes one bad day to bring someone to their emergency exit, which is insanity, which is being free."

Danica stared at him.

This was different. He was angry. Oh, she made him angry.

"Quit," he warned, "pushing."

He steadied himself, rising to his feet. Jerome gestured for her to stand up; she obeyed. She was afraid of what he might do if she didn't follow obediently. Jerome observed her outfit with taste.

"But," he sighed calmly, "I do like you in this get-up. I don't think that I've ever had a cop before."

Danica smiled. "Thank you."