Firstly, I own nothing to do with Suicide Squad or its characters. I just loved the film so much and have been hesitating on trying to write a fic on Harley and Joker. I haven't written a fanfiction on here for a while or have even felt motivated to update, but after watching the film, I fell in love with Harley and Joker.

This is going to be a bit different so I would love to know what you think. :) Feedback is welcome on what you think of the story line or if its something a bit too ridiculous. I would love to know.

Little Harls

Joker sat at his club on the white couch, watching over how business was running while his henchman Frost stood behind him. He looked towards where a female dancer was currently working the room, swaying her hips in a deliberate move in order to attract more attention from the males. One hand was on her hips, the other sweeping her dark brown hair back over one side of her head. He sighed loudly, bringing up both legs to lean his feet on the table, arching back into the cushioned chair. Usually Harley was the main girl who did all the dancing, but that couldn't happen tonight and Frost had to call in back-up.

Late last night, while cruising around in the purple Jokermobile for their usual joyride, The Batman had decided to play along at the last minute and be the third wheel. Everything had been going fun and smoothly, up until Harley had decided to climb out of the car with her gun. He still got angry at the vivid memory of what Batman had done to his girl. The way she had whipped the gun towards him, only for the Bat to strike suddenly with full force.

He'd hit Harley to the side of the head with a long swinging side-kick. Joker could still see how her knees had buckled over the full impact of the blow, how his girl had staggered a fair distance away, her fingers dropping the gun only for her to lift both hands up, resting them on the side of her head where the Bat had kicked her. Her teeth had been gritted tight, her face scrunched in pain.

Usually The Joker wouldn't have put up with anyone daring to hurt or disrespect his girl, but it was the Bat and, though he loathed him and considered him his one true enemy, The Joker also got a hell of a kick out of battling with him and irritating the Bat every time he and Harley set out on a mission with Gotham, New Jersey, as their playground, their wrecking ball.

Harley had complained all last night about headaches and even a few painkillers hadn't seemed enough to stop her constant whining. She hadn't even been her usual self last night; She didn't laugh or smile, she simply had wanted to go straight into the bedroom. He'd watched her go straight in, her face set in a permanent scowl of pain while she drew the blinds shut so it was completely dark with no light in to make her headache worse. She'd shut herself in all night until the late hours of the morning.

When he had woken that morning, getting dressed, Harley still hadn't seemed right. Usually she woke up at the exact same time he did, or as she was a light sleeper, she'd hear all the clothes rustling noises going on while he got dressed and it would aggravate her into waking up. Not that morning. She had slept soundly beneath the burrow of sheets, curled up with her legs tucked into her chest, both hands still resting up against her head on the pillow. Even as he stood over her and laughed as a test to see whether she'd smile and suddenly wake, blinking up at him dozily, she never did.

Something was wrong with his girl after the Bat had struck her across the head. Frost had mentioned about taking her to the hospital, that Harley could have endured a concussion, but Joker was reluctant to take her. His Harley, she was strong. She didn't need any doctors. A time in the past came back to him, where Harley had gotten shot in the thigh.

His girl was so tough that she demanded Frost remove the bullet himself and stitch it up. It had been admirable, how she was on that day. Even in pain, she stubbornly refused the hospital. While Jonny had taken his time to sterilize a sharp needle in some alcohol, Harley hadn't even flinched. Using a set of eyebrow tweezers to wedge the bullet out and then cotton to stitch her flesh back up from the wound, she had hardly made a sound, aside from chewing on a piece of gum noisily.

He was sure that was how it would be now. Once he got home, Harley would feel better. She probably just needed to sleep the blow to the head off, then she'd be up and running for tomorrow to do her part in the club. His girl, she'd be up and running in no time, carrying on with her business. He was sure of it.

Still, perhaps it wouldn't do any harm in checking right now? Where he lived with Harley, it was only a block away from the club anyway. And it wasn't like Frost had anything better to do, seeing as he was just standing there. Joker had his gun concealed beneath his tuxedo jacket, and a pocketknife tucked in his sock, concealed by his pant leg. He would be fine in defending himself.

"Jonny." He made the sign, wiggling his forefinger carelessly at where Frost stood behind him. When he sensed Jonny had moved closer, he said, "I want ya to go check on Harley, see how she's doing. Then come back here."

"Got it, Boss."

He watched Frost leave through the back door briskly, and he laughed to himself over the noise of the loud music in the club. Frost was so loyal. He trained him well.

It took Frost fifteen minutes to return. Joker had found himself becoming agitated to hear word of his girl's state and whether her headache had gone. He'd checked the multiple gold Rolex watches on his wrists at least twenty times since Jonny had left to go check on her. He'd even stood up and sat back down on the cushioned sofa, only to stand up and sit back down again. He was never too fond of waiting.

He growled to himself, unsettled when he caught the look on Frost's face once he strode past the crowd towards him to report on Harley. Jonny looked apprehensive, as though he was dreading what he was about to have to tell him.

"Well? How is she?" He demanded once Frost reached his side.

Frost paused, and when Joker turned his head to look up at him in warning, he heard the henchman swallow loudly. "It's really... strange. I'm not too sure I can explain without you going to see her yourself."

Joker crinkled his forehead at him, making a noise in confusion. Then he noticed the mark on Frost's forehead, what seemed like a pen mark. Or... lipstick? Had Harley kissed him? Had he gone up there and then fooled around with his girl? Surely not. If it was any other man, Joker wouldn't have hesitated twice to shoot him. But this was Frost, and he would give him the benefit of the doubt. Frost and Harley getting together, it was impossible. Unlikely.

Joker yanked up his trouser pants before standing to his full height, meeting Frost's eyes. Up closer the way he was, he almost made a noise of sheer relief when it occurred to him with such clarity that the mark was not actually lipstick after. It was... paint or one of their drawing pens they had in the apartment. Standing closer, Joker realized too that Frost's usually impeccable suit was ruffled, and even more streaks of colored pens were marring his white shirt. Had a little kiddy drawn on him on the way over to see his girl?

"You better go see for yourself, J," Frost croaked out, urging him. "Then you'll see what I mean."

Joker grumbled under his breath before running a hand over his hair, flattening down his slick green hair. He hated how Jonny was being so secretive. It was bordering on being irritating. He just wanted him to be straightforward and tell him what was happening with his Harley. But following the man's pleas, Joker shoved a hand into his tuxedo jacket, double-checking his gun was still in his holster before he left the club, Frost following behind him.

Once they reached the apartment, Joker was about to bust his way in before Jonny stopped him. He spun around to look at him questioningly. Usually Jonny didn't do that.

"Just wait," Frost croaked out nervously. "You got to do the secret knock."

Secret knock? What was he playing at?

Curling his hand into a fist, Frost knocked the solid wood four times. Then as he reached down and turned the doorknob, Joker finally heard his girl.

"Who there?" she called, only her voice wasn't how it usually was. It was babyish, high-pitched. "Knock, knock. Who there?" He heard her laughter.

"It's me, Frost. Your new friend. I have another friend with me. Mind if we both come in?"

He heard Harley make a loud thoughtful, indecisive noise, and then Joker decided he'd had enough of this. Whatever games Frost and his girl were playing, he'd had enough. Pushing past Jonny and shoving him out of the way, Joker pushed inside, searching for Harley. When he found her, his red lips stretched back into a relieved, happy grin. She was awake, but she was currently huddled by their coffee table, staring intently at it while she drew on the wood with a colored pen furiously.

Her blonde, red and blue hair was straggly and messy from being bedridden all day. The previous make-up she had worn last night was smeared, eye-shadow streaking beneath both eyes. She looked somehow fragile and small, the way she was sitting with her bare legs tucked in beneath her by the coffee table, her lips pursed as she concentrated on her drawing. Small and fragile, Joker knew she was anything but, though that seemed the appropriate way to describe her then, in her underwear and one of her T-shirts.

Then she looked up, alerted to someone else's presence in the room. Her reaction to him was not something he was expecting. Her blue eyes widened, her mouth fell open. Usually, first instance she saw him, she'd shout 'Puddin' and welcome him home, planting a few eager kisses on him. Not now. She dropped the colored pen, pushing back on her palms, scooting away from the coffee table, pushing back with her bare feet until her back collided with the wall behind her. Then something else caught her attention, and her wide, frenzied eyes glanced behind him.

Jonny.

"Harleen, this is a friend of mine. He's real... nice, despite how he looks."

Harleen? She hadn't gone by the name Harleen in years.

Joker watched as her eyes darted to him again. She looked at him as though she wasn't sure how to react to him, the muscles in her neck twitching as she swallowed loudly, her face shaking. He saw fear in her eyes due to his startling appearance. There was a lack of recognition there, like she didn't remember who he was. Like she didn't remember who he was to her.

"Who you?" The instance it left her mouth, it was like music to his ears. At least she was speaking to him, though he wasn't sure what was going on.

"Like I said, he's a good friend of mine," Jonny spoke before Joker could get a word out, irritating him. Frost was speaking to her in a gentle, soft voice, as though she were something easily timid. Which Joker knew for a fact she wasn't. Timid and Harley in the same sentence was not right. "He's... a real good guy. You can trust him, because he's a friend of mine. He's fine."

She tilted her head and eyed him.

"Green." She stated in a matter-of-fact, surprised voice. "Ya hair is green. Green is a color."

Though adorable as it was, Joker was growing tired of the game. He and Harley liked playing their games, but usually, their games did not consist of him being excluded. To show he got the joke, Joker tilted his head back, letting a laugh float out into the air. A piercing, blood-curdling noise cut him off, halfway. He wasn't even sure where that noise had come from, until he realized it came from Harley.

She was screaming.

She had screamed, and he clenched his mouth shut in astonishment, watching her as she cowered by the wall, both hands flying up to cover her ears at the sound of his laugh. It was the most strangest sight he had ever seen in his entire life. Usually Harley laughed along with him. She did not scream or cower or cover her ears, shaking by the wall.

He cleared his throat, giving her a desperate "Sssh, ssh, sssh" in response.

Ignoring Jonny behind him, he got down on his knees, crouching on the carpet a while away from her. Harley watched him, her eyes fear-stricken, wet. Slowly, seeing that he wasn't laughing anymore, she brought her hands away from her ears, watching him. Satisfied, he tried not to grin as he lifted both hands in the air, showing her the sign of peace, that he had no weapons and he had no intentions of hurting her. All Harley did was stare at him as though everything he did both confused and scared her.

"Ya playing a game, hmm?" he asked her, his voice throaty, strained. "We playing a game now, baby? What game is this one?"

When he bent one knee forward to approach her, she threw her arms over her head, shielding her face in her hands. He could hear faintly Frost warning him, that she was different, that he shouldn't try getting any closer just yet, but Joker ignored him, keeping his eyes on nothing else but Harley's thin arms as he edged closer and closer on the carpet, feeling very much like an excited dog circling in on his prey.

"Ya know how I love my games, baby," he muttered, grinning, as he listened to her heavy breathing.

Reaching out with his hand, his fingers were just an inch away from brushing her ankle when the noise she made caused him to stop. A heart-wrenching sobbing noise came from her, and Harley's entire body shook. He hadn't heard her cry in a long time.

"I... I don't like him," she got out through her arms, then another long sob came from her. "I... I don't want him comin' any closer. He's scary!" Her body shook again as she cried.

Though Joker always believed he didn't necessarily have a heart with feelings, he was feeling it now. He reared back, sitting back on his haunches. Her words were a taunt, echoing in his brain. He was scary? She didn't like him because he was scary? Since when did his Harley find him scary?

"Ya look like a clown, Mister." He almost grumbled in sadness as she sniffled loudly, dropping one arm to wipe her running nose along it. Her blue eyes were filled with tears and pain, as she stared back at him. "I... I don't like clowns!"

"Oh, but I ain't a clown," he said. He still couldn't tell whether this was a game or not. She was acting like a fearful little girl. "This is just how Daddy looks. See?"

He watched her, panting eagerly, while she finally removed her arms to look at him fully. Her nose was running, tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Why ya wearing lipstick for?" she mumbled softly, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. "Lipsticks for girls? My daddy never wore lipstick. Mommy always taught me it was for girls."

Joker was too wrapped up on listening to her, in finding some reasonable explanation, that he jumped when Frost laid a hand on his shoulder, clenching down. "She's not acting the same as she usually is," Frost said in his ear quietly. "Now, I don't know if it had something to do with what happened last night, with the kick to the head from Batman, but... I think its a real possibility that the reason she ain't acting the same is all because the kick did something to her brain."

Throughout Jonny's words, Joker brought his hand up to his mouth, covering it so she could see the back of it, the smiley tattoo on his knuckles. He wanted to see what her reaction to it would be. Much to his pleasure, she didn't disappoint. Sniffling again, she lifted a hand, wiping her cheeks of tears as she stared at him. Then, slowly, the fear disappeared from her eyes, replacing with mirth and childish humor instead. When Harley finally giggled while wiping the snot off her nose with her hand, Joker felt his heart soar at the sound.

"It's like she's gone back a few steps. Like she's acting like a child. I think maybe when the Batman kicked her, it knocked her brain, doing some pretty serious damage. I think that's why she's acting this way. Maybe the trauma was so big to her brain that she's reverted into a little girl again mentally?"

Flashes of what he had done to her years ago came back to mind when he slowly removed his hand, grinning back at her when she laughed again, flashing his metal teeth at her. He'd tortured her that time, in giving her electroshock therapy. And now, last night, having been brutally kicked to the head by the Bat. Could Jonny be right? Was that why she was acting the way she was now, with all of her forgetfulness of him and the way she was behaving like a young child? The kick, added with the torture years ago when he'd sizzled her, were affecting her brain?

"Your funny," she said in her high-pitched, babyish voice decidedly, laughter still present in her voice. "Frost and you can be my new friends." As if seeming to get over her wariness of him due to his appearance, Harley slowly moved on all fours towards the coffee table, carefully picking out pen colors. "Ya two can help me draw if ya want to?" she suggested, looking at both of them while she held out two pens. One green, one blue. Then she swung her eyes to Joker. "I'm drawing a castle for a princess, me being the princess." She touched a hand to her chest, her voice going higher with haughtiness. "But only you can have the green. 'Cause green is the color of ya hair so that's what ya gettin'."

Joker thought he could see her as a child. Bossy and privileged, telling other young kids what to do.

When Frost went to accept the blue pen from her, Joker knocked him away with his hand. "Ya gotta go manage the club," he reminded him sternly. "I'll be here. Call me if anything happens."

Frost nodded, bending down to place the blue pen back on the coffee table.

"Ah, Harleen, I've got to go now."

Harley made a deep noise through her throat, a whining, sad noise as she chucked a pen on the floor.

"But you have J to look after you, and like I said, he's a real good friend. You let him know if you need anything, all right?"

"All right," she sang, mocking him.

Joker watched as she kept her eyes fixed on Frost as he left the apartment. When the door shut, she fell back on her knees, frowning glumly. Stuck alone with her now, like this, Joker didn't know what to do. A strange silence fell between them, one that felt awkward. She picked up a pen, drawing circles and strokes on the coffee table again, humming distantly to herself. It sounded like a lullaby, something she had probably had sung to her during her childhood.

"Hey!" Her sharp voice brought him to attention, and she slapped her palm against the coffee table loudly. "Ya gotta start drawing, Mister! Ya gotta put green in!"

Grumbling under his breath at all this mundane kiddy stuff, Joker reluctantly moved closer over the coffee table, and he began drawing with the pen as well, making small strokes in the wood around Harley's picture.

How was he supposed to talk to her while she was like this? And how long would it take for the old Harley to return, the one he liked best, above all else in the world? The one who went on joyrides with him and laughed and killed?

If you have any suggestions on what you would like to happen or anything I need work with, let me know. Thanks for reading.