"Make a joke and I will sigh, you will laugh, and I will cry."
As he lay next to her she sat up on one elbow and looked at his sleeping form. He was motionless and as he was sleeping his face was devoid of hate and anger, opposite of when he was awake. Harley leaned down and nuzzled her nose into his neck, his hair fell in her face and she breathed in deeply. Gasoline, gunpowder, and sweat. His scent. His moral code. She pulled away and after a few seconds of watching him sleep she lightly brushed a strand of dark blond hair, tinted green, out of his face. His breathing lightened but he did not stir. She relished these moments, lived for them, when she could touch him lovingly as she was never able to do when he was awake. Her eyes wandered down his neck and onto his bare chest, it was rising and falling rhythmically, hypnotically. She wanted to lay her head against him, feel his heartbeat under her temples, but that would surely wake him and send him into a rage. She didn't want that, he needed his energy; it was a big day tomorrow. Harley stared at the hand that lies on his chest, following its steady movements. Red and white face paint stained the tips of his fingers. She smiled faintly at the calm, almost childlike innocence in his face, knowing all too well that when he awoke it would be etched with ferocity and anger.
His face was almost clean of war paint; only faint traces of it remained in his hairline. The room was completely silent; the only sound that could be heard was the slight inhale and exhale of breath as The Joker breathed deeply. Her eyes hovered above his scars, she wanted to touch them, kiss them and make it all better, as a mother comforting her child. But that would wake him; she wouldn't dare. Morning was nearing, she wished she'd known that by the small birds twittering innocently outside the window, but there were no birds in the city, she knew it was nearing morning by the digital clock on the bed stand that read 4:03. He'd told her to wake him at seven in the morning, any later and he'd miss the fireworks: he'd set dynamite on the city train's rails and set them to go off at eight-thirty, just in time for the morning commute. He turned his head again and this time he was facing Harley. She put her hand out to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen into his face when he spoke to her without opening his eyes.
"Harley… Stop harassing me, or I'll have to start harassing you." He rolled over so his back was facing her.
"Yes Mister J." Harley said obediently with a hint of flirtatiousness in her voice. She laid silently for what seemed like an eternity and then looked back at him. She was tempted to touch the many scars on his back and she reached out her hand, her fingertips were inches away from his naked skin but she pulled her hand back and turned over so her back was facing his. The Joker could sense her restlessness and lay on his back again, motioning for her to lay on him. He sighed as she squeaked with eager happiness and laid her head on his warm chest. She immediately felt drowsy as his heart pumped steadily beneath her head. She pulled the rest of her naked body closer to his. He didn't pull back and Harley was overcome with joy. He drifted off to sleep and she soon followed.
Harley's internal clock told her to wake up, but she was so exhausted from the night before she just shooed it away. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked at the sunlight pouring in from the window above the bed. She was still lying on The Joker's naked chest and she slowly rose up from him and glanced over to the clock dreamily. It read 9:13. Her eyes bolted awake and she looked at the sleeping Joker, who she knew would be furious at sleeping through his plans. She gently put her hand on his lean yet muscled chest.
"Mister J, wake up." She said timidly, he yawned and sat up groggily. Harley stood up out of bed, pulling the sheet along with her to cover herself up with while preparing her body and mind for what was coming. Harley backed slowly from the bed until she hit the wall, only a few feet away from it. The Joker looked over to the alarm clock and then back at her, he slowly rose out of bed, his eyes never wavering from her. He grew colder and angrier each step he took. Harley raised her hands up in front of her,
"Now Mister J, stay calm…Mister J…" He reached her and held his hand up in front of her face. She closed her eyes and he hit her, sending her crashing down to the floor.
"Harley, now look what you made me do, I've missed all the fun." He said down to her. She lay on the floor, her face obscured by her hair. She didn't cry, just laid there, it wasn't the first time she'd been hit by a man. After he left the room Harley stood up and got dressed. She could hear The Joker watching old black and white Warner Brother's cartoons and as she walked past the room he was in she looked in and saw him applying his war paint. Harley walked into the kitchen and began making breakfast for them and after a few minutes The Joker walked in, dressed in his purple shirt and pants and his deeply brown leather shoes.
"Harley, don't bother, we're leaving." He said to her and then walked out of the room and down the hallway. She followed him into the bedroom and picked his tie up off of the red chair he'd thrown his clothes on last night. Harley walked over to him and looped it around his neck and began to tie it. He stood in front of her, his gaze fixed downward on her determined eyes. She buttoned up his shirt the rest of the way and tightened the knot, turning to grab his jacket off of the floor. She turned back to him and he turned around, allowing her to slip on his jacket. He turned around and put his hands on her hips, pulling her to him. His lips pressed against hers forcefully, and she complied, her fingers running through his hair and gently pulling it. He pulled away and walked out of the room without a word. She followed him out of the apartment and out of the building. They both got into a dark black Escalade and a man sat in the front seat, ready to drive them off to where Joker's current scheme was taking place.