Working Title: "Mercy's Hold"

By Faith Kelter

Based on an improvisation with Jason Marnocha

Chapter 1

The ever bubbly Harley Quinn, famed Harlequin of…nope that was one of his names. Clown Princess of…hells no, too corny to just feminize. Atop her usual place on her puddin's desk, she scratched out the bajillionth nickname on her notepad with a frustrated growl. Her precious babies - pet hyenas, Bud and Lou - tilted their heads in confusion as their matriarch finally tore the page off and tossed it into the trash bin, sitting head-on-hand in boredom.

It was never fun when she was left out of a heist. But there was just no role for her to play this time, and she didn't dare question the boss. Like any great showman, the Joker had a precise vision on how to share each performance with the fools that were Gotham City. Harley couldn't just barge in on it if she wasn't involved from the start. It would ruin everything! And with the chance of a cancellation due to a certain pest control problem showing up, ruining the grand scheme was just not an option. Screwing up was one thing. Screwing up in front of the Batman was another, and one that Mistah J just wouldn't tolerate at all. She shuddered to remember the last time she did that, gingerly rubbing the various bruises that lingered in its memory.

"I'm ba-ack!"

Harley squealed happily with a "Yay!", jumping from the desk at the sound of his voice and running to greet him with the Babies in tow. The plan must've gone well, she thought, seeing all the goons pour in through the door behind him in one piece and Mistah J with one of his most genuine smiles. Gleeful and playful like a good hench wench should be, she clung to him tight to join in on the happy.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, humoring her with a gentle pat.

"Just me waitin' all by my lonely!" she said, making a show of her pouting, painted black lips. "The Babies are good fer company, but they still ain't you, boss!"

Like any perfectly trained pets, Bud and Lou bounded towards their master, laughing all the way. The Joker knelt with his arms spread wide, laughing and tousling their thick manes in greeting.

"Such good kids," he mused before standing to join his Harls. "But not as good as my Harleykins."

Harley smiled sweetly, savoring the moment as though she had been by his side the whole time. Sticking it to the Bat always put Mistah J in his best mood, and she never let the opportunity pass her by to use that in her favor.

"So now I'm a good girl?" she teased.

Oh what the hell, the Joker thought, grinning with success satisfaction. The heist had gone perfectly according to plan, no need to rehire any new walking guns - such a constant bother, that was - and he felt incredible. Might as well indulge her some; it always managed to turn out pleasant when he did.

"Or maybe…bad?" he suggested with a wink.

"Maaaybe," Harley giggled, pleased with the direction this was headed in. "Bein' good's fer the Bats."

"Oh so true!"

"So I thought…I'd not be good."

The Joker didn't suppress a hearty laugh. Though meant to be tantalizing, he couldn't help wondering if she had to use up a small portion of her remaining brain cells to realize that. Amusing and humorous as his harlequin was - she was trained by the best after all, he thought with pride - she wasn't always the brightest bulb in the socket. Nonetheless, he complimented, "Atta girl!"

Harley merely went on, not picking up on any implication. "And y'know, bein' not-so-good…can still mean good things anyhoo…"

"All about defining your terms," he replied, pulling her close.

Harley beamed. "Takes two to tango, boss…"

A knock sounded from the door, and a goon stepped in. "Uh, boss?"

The Joker turned on him, enraged by the audacity to just barge in. "I TOLD YOU NEVER TO INTERRUPT ME!" he shouted, throwing a well-aimed bladed playing card directly into the fool's trachea.

Harley winced, her hand absently sliding up to her throat. "Owwie, that had ta hurt!"

His mood dampened, the Joker snarled, whistling for the rest to join them. "BOYS! FRONT AND CENTER!" When all were assembled in the most gangly fashion, he asked, "Now, what was that dead guy going to tell me that was so important?"

A second brave soul stepped forward, gesturing to the door with his thumb. "Uh, Poison Ivy's at the door," he grumbled. "Something about nowhere to go."

"HA! If that's so, then she can't show up here, can she?" the Joker asked, rolling his eyes as the imbeciles stared at him blankly. Idiots.

Harley, on the other hand, quirked an eyebrow at this announcement. "Since when did Red an' me switch spots?" she asked. "I'm supposed'a go ta her when there's trouble."

"And how the hell did she know where…we…are?" The Joker turned to his dizzy dame with an accusing glare, causing her to shrink in her place. "Daaaaarling?" Although, one look at the "Laugh City!" sign outside and he chuckled in realization that it was kind of obvious. "Ah, dopey me, heh!"

While Harley let out a quiet sigh of relief, he turned back to the goons. "Well tell the hussy to bugger off!" he said, going back to Harley's side with a grin and wink. "We're busy."

But no sooner was Harley about to swoon into his purple-clad arms than he snapped out of it. "Ah, wait wait wait…she may tell the Bat where we are," he sighed dramatically.

Harley's momentary disappointment turned to hope. "Ya mean…you'll let her stay?"

"Well you know Red best. You go talk to her," he consented, shrugging. "Doubt she has much to say to lil' ol' me."

Harley turned on the goons faster than one could say "Bozo!"

"What're ya waitin' for?!" she demanded like the second-in-command she was. "Go let 'er in and shut the damn door behind ya!" The men hesitated only a moment. "I said NOW!"

"Heheh! Got a way with the help, toots!" the Joker mused watching them bolt in fear of retribution.

When they were gone, Harley flung her arms around her man, nuzzling him gratefully. "Yer amazin', Puddin' Pop! After all Red's done fer me…!"

The Joker's bright red lips turned down into a frown, and noted to himself to slug Harley later for making him do so. The last thing he wanted was the insufferable Plant Lady hanging around. Like most of the Gotham rogues, Ivy despised him, the only mutual tie they had was Harley Quinn: Custody Battle. But it was a small sacrifice to make if it meant Batsy would be kept in the dark for a bit longer. Pammy would go and blab, and he couldn't have that.

"Yeah, yeah," he moped. "But she'd better not scowl at me the whole bleeding time."

Harley drew back, but kept her arms wrapped around him. Turning on the charm, she said, "Make it through with no fightin', or little as needed…and it'll make me very happy."

The Joker looked at her, allowing himself a chuckle. Her sweetness was the least she could do for his being so gracious - and she certainly would do more to make up for this one, he'd see to that.

She just went on. "I mean it," she smirked, tickling his chin. "Pwomise you'll do yer bestest, and I'll make it all betta later!"

He chuckled again. She was a delightful little minx, his Harley-girl. "All right, sugar drawers."

Harley grinned, offering a quick kiss and some extra time for cuddling…until a crash sounded from downstairs. Looking up at him, she laughed weakly with an apologetic smile to match, but he was not amused. This was going to be a long night.