A horrified scream distracted the Joker from what he usually referred to as his afternoon ritual: eating ice cream while watching poor adaptations of his persona to the big screen had become one of the Joker's favorite activities since when he first managed to get his hands on a rather strange, upsetting, amateurish movie featuring some sort of extremely tattooed, eyebrowless, Hollywood version of him.
The man was flattered, there was no doubt. The Joker knew that he was an incredibly famous and acclaimed individual, but he didn't expect such an overwhelming and disappointing response.
Joker stood up from the couch, and walked towards the bedroom he shared with his henchwench and girlfriend, Harley Quinn.
"Why did you yell like that?" asked Joker, as he sat down on the bed next to Harley, who looked visibly upset as she kept scrolling through the internet pages she had opened on her laptop.
"This is nuts, Mr. J. It doesn't make any sense!" yelled Harley, her eyes completely glued to the screen. "Why are there drawings of me and the Bat-freak kissing? There's Jonny Crane, too! And... who the heck is this guy dressed in red and black? He stole my damn color scheme, puddin'!"
Joker, who was now paying full attention to what was displayed on the screen, for the first time in his entire life, did not know what to say, nor how to handle the situation. "I have crippled, killed, skinned alive and blew up half the population of Gotham City, and yet nothing shocked me as much as this." said Joker, pointing at what must have been intended to be an erotic drawing of Harley Quinn and Batman, both naked and tightly wrapped in what looked like slimy tentacles that strategically covered their most private areas, their lips were just centimeters apart.
"Tentacles, really? Not even Poison Ivy would be amused by that, and that's saying something." commented Joker, as he kept staring at the peculiar drawing. "What's wrong with kids these days? They're out there sexualizing octopus' tentacles, and then I'm the crazy one! Do you think this is how they got inspired to write that Shape of Water kinda thing? That would explain a lot, especially the fish sex..." he added, frowning.
"Puddin', stop it. This is serious, and I found even worse things." said Harley. The idea of googling herself had been hunting Harley for quite a while; after all, she was a curious woman, and she wanted to know what people had to say about her. Were they inspired by her? In the end, she had the courage to abandon the life and the job she had worked so hard to have purely in the name of love, in the name of the only person that could make her smile, who freed her from the oppressing chains of sanity, who made her feel alive and special.
Or maybe they were simply scared of her, shaking at the very thought of having to face her and her puddin' one day. Just the thought of that made her heart beat faster in excitement. She thought about how happy she and Mr. J were whenever they went out to spread some smiles; she felt so invincible when she was close to the man she loved and adored beyond everything, doing what they both enjoyed the most. Before Joker, those feelings were almost nonexistent in poor Doctor Quinzel's life: the thrill of the rush, the excitement she felt as she drove away from the Batman with her puddin' laughing next to her on the passenger seat, the pleasure she felt as the Joker's strong, pale knuckles came in contact with her bruised skin. Harleen Quinzel was helpless, lonely and sad, and he had managed to bring out the best of her. He had turned her into what she had always wanted to be, deep down. She only needed a little push.
Out of sheer curiosity, Harley typed her name in the search engine that afternoon, and patiently waited for the results. What she read was not what she had been expecting at all.
Tons of articles popped up, claiming that Harley was just another victim of the Clown Prince of Crime, that he had been using her from the very beginning, and that he did not treat her like she deserved to be treated. Other articles, instead, were praising her and talking about how good she actually was, and that the Joker had manipulated her until she became a monster, just like him. She's a kind, good soul, read one of the articles.
Harley suddenly turned the laptop off, and threw it against the wall. "I am not good, nor kind!" she yelled, as she stood up and grabbed her mallet, which she always kept by her bed in case anything bad happened, and started to beat the now broken laptop with it.
"The way they talked about you, puddin', about us... They don't understand a thing." she let the mallet fall down on the floor, and she sat back down on the bed. "They just don't get it. How's it so difficult to understand, puddin'?" she murmured, gazing into the Joker's bright, green eyes.
"But we get it, don't we? That's what matters, Harley. What we have, they don't have to understand it. It would ruin the joke, now. Wouldn't it?" he asked, his fingers were delicately caressing her cheek. Harley smiled and nodded, and as her lips got closer to the Joker's, he suddenly pulled back, and slapped the back of her head. "Now, you lazy broad, go in the kitchen and fill me a bowl of ice cream. You ruined my afternoon with all this nonsense. You're just like everyone else, Harley. Wasting your life in front of a computer screen," said Joker, as he shook his head. "What are you waiting for, Harley? Ice cream, now."
"Yes, puddin'." replied Harley, as she happily skipped into the kitchen.
The Joker was right, other people didn't have to understand what they had built together.
They could never understand mad love, after all.
A/N: Hope you catched all of the references, and that nothing offended you too much :P I just love these two so much.
Reviews are highly appreciated, friends! :)