The night club was thick and heavy with warm bodies pressing against each other and the floor was sticky with drinks that were carelessly tipped and knocked over due to sloppiness of intoxicated bodies. The music was blared which caused a second heart beat in every throat. A small staircase lead up to a clear glass box looking down onto the dance floor. It was off limits to most people, but if you showed enough class and money the place was all yours.
Harley stood looking down at the sweat covered bodies with her hands eagerly pressed against the glass, she was told to stay put and keep watch for any complications. "Complications," she huffed, "I don't get why we gotta stay up here while we could be having a good time just like Mistah J and the other morons." She hates waiting in the back line, she wanted to be up real close and personal with the chaos and nasty stuff. The sounds of a lighter clicked followed by a heavy intake of breath. "Because you and I have to do what the boss says or we get our eyeballs gouged out." Rocco exhaled. He has been with the Joker since his early days and always proved to be loyal enough for the Joker to spare his life. Harley grew irritated at his remark. She gave a short laugh and dropped her tone a few octaves before turning to Rocco. "Yeah maybe he'll tear your eyes out but Mistah J would never do that to me, he loves my eyes too much."
Rocco bent over in fits of laughter, his cigarette falling from his mouth. "That's rich coming from you Harl, he doesn't care what you got to offer, if you piss him off you're as good as dead meat." He was probably right but she didn't give him the satisfaction of letting it get to her, she turned back towards the glass and pushed her forehead up to it, the coldness soothing her headache instantly. She tapped her fingers on the glass loudly and watched as her breath clouded her view of the nightclub. Groaning she pushed herself away and marched towards the staircase. "Harley where on earth do you think you're going?".
"I'm going to enjoy my time while I'm still young! Tell J he ain't got nothing to worry about his girls got it covered!". She blew Rocco a kiss then headed down the stairs. Her hair was down laid straight beside her face and out of its normal style of aching ponies at each side. She wore no jester costume so that she would attract no attention to herself and only wore a simple black and red cocktail dress with red heels.
There was a brightly coloured bar on the far left of the club, Harley suddenly felt like a child in Wonderland surrounded by signs flashing the words, "DRINK ME. DRINK ME."
On her fifth drink she happened to notice two guys eyeing her from a distance, lucky for her they were within ear shot. She looked straight down into her glass as she struggled to listen.
"Touch her and die, bro. She's the Joker's girl. Buddy of mine was working a stunt in Arkham. He whistled at her once. That night they found him hanging from a drain pipe with his lips cut off. Kind of a good joke when you think about it." So, someone had recognised her. She couldn't help but chuckle at the statement that was made. She remembered that night well, the body all mangled and purple from lack of oxygen. Poor guy she thought, he shoulda known better. The Joker doesn't like people touching his stuff.
This wasn't a typical night club. If that were the case The Joker wouldn't of been within ten miles of the place. People knew he was here, they were afraid sure, but there was no running in terror. This was the place your classic criminal came to have fun. Boxy Bennett ran this place, Boxy Bennett is Gotham's resident mobster, who has his sticky fingers in every dirty deal in Gotham. He probably plays as dirty as The Joker when it comes to dealing but no one could be sure until that day came. Him and Harley have had several misunderstandings in the past couple of months and she really wasn't in the mood to play nice and apologise. Lucky for her Boxy's only ever seen her in costume, it's not that hard to put two and two together, all it was was some costume and make-up but when it comes to having The Joker in your nightclub you're really not going to question why some sweet innocent blonde is following The Clown Prince of Crime around. She told herself that was the main reason for no costume tonight.
A firm hand was placed on the small of her back as hot breath was whispered against the back of her neck and ear. "I thought-I told you-to stay-up-stairs." A small growl raised from inside his throat and he spun her around to face him, slamming both hands on either side of the bar caging her in between.
Jokers face filled with rage glaring with wide eyes at Harley, his mouth pressed in a hard line as his chest rose up and down rapidly. There was a storm coming. "My girl's got it covered has she? What exactly do you mean by that Harley? Hum?" He cocked an eyebrow taking one step to close the small space between them, his hands were on her upper arms now, squeezing tightly.
She laughed nervously. "I wouldn't let you down now, would I Puddin'?"
"No," The Joker replied, "You wouldn't. But you could embarrass me." He slapped one hand on Harley's cheek, bracing herself, he jerked the collar down on her dress. Harley smiled thinly.
"What's the idea here again?" Harley asked.
Joker laughed; it was a jackal snarl.
"Don't," he warned, turning toward the door, "embarrass me."