7:00 PM
"The explosion is set to go off in ten minutes. Be out of the building by then…is that clear?" he gazed around at his group which consisted of three men who were listening very attentively and one girl who was lavishly painting her fingernails. He sighed while opening the back door to their van. Three henchman exited followed by one well dressed clown dragging a harlequin by her hair. He shoved the girl to the henchman furthest away from him, and before setting off in the opposite direction spoke to her. "here haaaarley, ha-ha-happy can explain it all to you." He skipped off into the shadows.
7:02 PM
Once inside the small jewelry store, after disabling its alarm system, Harley looked round. Without her beloved joker she felt alone and quite confused. She turned to the henchman she had been partnered with and asked, in that adorable jersey accent, "whats the plan?'
"When were done…in 6 minutes we go to the south end of the building…and wait. Then we meet up with the boss, and go back to the hideout." He didn't particularly like Harley, and it showed in his voice.
"oh…"She pretended not to notice the condescending tone. Pretending happened to be a special skill of Harley's. They continued to shove jewelry into a few sacks.
7:09
He watched the building from the shadows of a sandwich shop a few doors down. It wasn't going to be a small explosion no…it was going to be HUGE! Something to light up the night sky.
Thirty seconds.
And then a thought crossed his mind.
20 seconds
Where was harley? He had told her to meet him behind the sandwich shop…
15 seconds
Hadn't he?
10 seconds
It was too late to go and find her now…she would be on the south end of the building by now…
5 seconds
The small part of him, smaller than a loose thread in his socks, that held all those feelings he didn't care for made him lunge forward with a cry of her name. Her name that left the lips smeared with red greasepaint that covered the scars was deafened by the noise of the explosion. And then he didn't care anymore…he saws the lights and her name became a giggle that grew into a raucous laugh. And then he waited for the police, the firefighters, the ambulances…for the Batsy.
7:30
The ambulances came, and as they began to bring the bodies out something tugged at his brain. Something he couldn't define made him watch the people they would bring out. Normally he wouldn't stay, wouldn't see who his debauchery affected, but tonight was different. There was a man…followed by another man…followed by a woman….followed by a man. He turned to go and then something caught his eye. His eyes landed on the hand under the blanket on the stretcher occupied by the female. A red glove with ruffles.
oh…yes…that. He thought and stared at the body for a moment. He had an itch, to go and grab it. They were touching his property those…those ambulance workers. But then he tried to shove away that small part of him and heading back to the hideout, but that feeling wouldn't leave. Booze was needed.
8:00
He was home and unceremoniously he removed the bag of valuables from his pocket. Seeing as he was the one who knew the explosives would go off and detroy the building and the people inside he had collected what he wanted, alone by himself.
9:25
…and it seemed this was how he was meant to live his life. He was three sheets to the wind by now. And holding one of the pair of socks given to him by Harley he let a singular tear slide down, erasing a jagged line of greasepaint. The hyenas seemed to sense his feelings and motives for drinking almost the entire liquor stash and layed at his feet, graciously accepting pets occasionally, and not chewing on his sock clad feet. And then, as he was just finishing off the third bottle of champagne, always his drink of choice, the door clicked open, and there was a shuffling of feet, a thud as something fell to the floor, and a murmur.
"puddin'?"
As he stood and turned the bottle of champagne fell the the floor; a few shards found there way into his hand. "Harley…" he said quite astonished, and then noticed she was missing a glove and she had dropped three bags of jewels at her feet. She was covered in ash, her outfit was a coat made of polar bear, her hair was dishelved and out of its usual pigtails, and through all of this her blue eyes shone through the domino mask. she walked forward slowly, but he crossed the distance much quicker. "How?"
"well I ended up gettin' caught by a neighboring store owna-" but before she could finish the sentence the taste of champagne was in her mouth and thoughts of reckless abandoned flashed before her eyes. (A/N: I should sooo right romance novels.) Pushing her back and up against the wall he continued to kiss her, and slid a hand in between the fur unbuckling the coat and he was shocked to find not her usual outfit but her underclothes. He pulled away from her and raised an eyebrow. She smirked "when I killed the neighboring business owner, I dressed her up in my clothes…thought id make tha cops think I was dead."
"Clever," He kissed her again, tasting the champagne coated greasepaint he had left on her face moments before, "bitch." True, he was angry that she had outsmarted him, but now was not the time to hurt her with anything other than tolerable acts. He spun her to the wall, the sound of her cheekbone against the hard wood, increased his arousal. (A/N: what is tolerable to the joker is not necessarily tolerable to you, lol) He all but tore off the coat and let it fall to the floor. Pushing her up against the wall now he buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent. Her natural honey smell was meshed with the smell of gunpowder. Snaking a hand in between them he undid the clasp and left her bra fall to the floor. He reached around and began to fondle her breast while nibble on her shoulder, occasionally drawing blood.
From Harley's point of view this was almost too good to be true, seeing as how she was completely conscious, but it all seemed so surreal. The pain of his teeth breaking her skin was too pleasurable to phase her, and she needed to taste him. Against his will she turned around and brought her mouth to his neck, where the greasepaint ended. She bit, she sucked, she gnawed and once he was out of shock from the sudden change in the way things were going he raked his fingernails down her shoulder, not enough to bleed, but they left red marks.
He abruptly pulled away from her, turned around and grabbing her wrist started leading towards the back of the factory they were occupying. He walked quickly as as they walked Harleys attention was drawn to the walls. His long, gangly, hunched over shadow leading her short, small shadow. He threw open the door leading what could be considered as a garage, but truth be told they had way too many cars for it to be just a garage.
There were four henchman playing cards and upon seeing the clown prince of tragedy and his Ophelia, who was clad on in panties, they hurriedly stood up and exited. The joker let them leave, not wanting to take the time to kill one of them for not being clairvoyant enough to know he was coming. Instead he relished the though of the fact that they were alone and slammed Harley up against the passenger door of a 1927 cadillac LaSalle coupe.
In true Joker fashion is was purple and green and when her body made a collision
with the window is shattered all over the large back seat. That sound brought him out of his reverie for a moment and he thought better of ruining this car. He moved away from the car, keeping her close to him. He seemed set on another one, and keeping her in front of him, walked past the cars devided by decade. The stopped at the three that represented the seventies. Now he left her in front of the first one walking to the second one, a 1970 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, he opened the door and waited for her to slide in. and after she did he got in after her and closed the door.
They're was an awkward silence for a moment until she turned her head and he caught her ear and, while biting it, elicited a giggle. It was enough to make harley cry out and turning to him he crawled on top of her. Her hands worked at the many buttons that were on his vest and once that was off even more buttons were on his shirt. And while she worked on that he worked his way from her neck down. Biting and teasing every bit of flesh he could get too. This was a rare occasion, and they both knew it. This would probably never happen again and so because of this it was no surprise that when Jack procured yet another bottle of champage from somewhere in the care he offered her the first sip.
"Aww Mistah J…you shouldn't." But as he raised his eyebrow she took a sip and was almost instantly woozy. She gave a small laugh, a ha-ha that by no means could compare to the giggle that rose to raucous laughter.
"Don't you like it Harls? It's my own concotion…" He said with a dark smile and she began to feel even more light headed. He took three sips to her measley one. She put a hand to her head, to block out the light and he was now as clothed as she was, and seeing as she wasn't wearing anything…and wrapping a hand around her throat and thrusting the other into her hair and onto the seat below her, he began to thrust inside of her and outside, slowly…teasing, almost cruel. She whimpered. "Oh, now whats a matter harls? You don't like it?"
"I do…its just.." She said in a small voice, barely above a whisper.
The hand around her throat closed a bit more, and it was hard to think with him inside of her. "Why so serious, Haaaarley?"
"I…im…im not serious Mistah j"His hand loosened a bit.
"you know…that's the last thing most people hear when im around."
"Y-yes" If she strained hard enough she could speak in a normal tone
"Yes what?" The hand tightened.
"Yes Mistah j, yes! yes-" He had started to move slowly again, and giggled at her. He loosened his hand a bit, admiring the bruises left on her neck next to a rather nice bite mark.
"And what do you want your daddy to do, pumpkin?"
"jazz me, Mistah j!" He started to move a little faster this time then slowed down and heard her sigh.
"Is that all Doll face?"
"No…" and then she sat up, a wicked gleam in her eye as she threw her hands around his neck.
"Come on Daddy! Don't you wanna rev up your Harleykins?" He didn't respond with words.
Hours later...
She felt the tip of cold steel before she could see it. He ran the blade along her thighs, over the side of her waist, and up to her shoulder. She felt his hands borough into her hair and she could almost sense what was going to happen next. With a smirk he tilted the knife at an angle and pushed it lightly into her skin. It was light enough not to break any major arteries or touch bone, but it was enough to scar. The first side was perfect, the second even greater, the third was a triumph, and the fourth completed the diamond and accented the greatest type of diamond gem he'd ever known; the harlequin.
She hadn't screamed, she could hardly do much at this point, having finished off the special bottle. She was for the most part of the rest of the night a vegetable, as was he. But occasionally they'd kiss or pick up enough strength to fuck again. And when the morning came she awoke alone and unrefreshed. A purple sheet was wrapped around her and she sat up in the back of the car.
"The hell-auggh! Fuck Harl…what the hell." She said loudly, her voice echoing in the loud garage. And then she noticed the green gauze wrapped around her upper arm. She tore it off and noticing the diamond it rushed back to her in a series of blurred images. Tugging the sheet around her she walked all around the hideout, searching every corner, every hidden door for him or a henchman. And something caught her eye. On a circular table was a bag of jewels, a newspaper, and a rose in a small vase with a note attached to it.
Jewels- from the caper the night before
A newpaper bearing the headline: HARLEY QUINN DEAD?
And the rose with the note: "Get better soon." –J
"if I had a nickel…"
FIN
A/N: oh this is a challenge, lol. I decided to take a mad love approach to it, and that is every time the joker dissapers he leaves a rose with a note…lol. Hmm…where'd he go? I don't know yet. Review..please?
