Neither would look good on me you imbecile, none of them. His chest heaved with a sigh, muscles protesting the movement and he dragged a hand into his lap, pushing at the hem of his dress. Great, he was feeling modest now.

Didn't have much time to, of course, with Joker back in his face. Lips parted compliantly, brows drawing as he watched him work, tried to understand why of all things he was gentle with, it was with this; surely humiliating him wasn't... He didn't want to think about it. Not now.

Crane refused the request, just spat angrily, "Stop saying that."