Crazy For You
Harley Quinn woke up lazily on the morning of February 14th, sighing happily and reaching over to cuddle her Clown Prince lying next to her in bed. Her smile of utter bliss dropped suddenly when she discovered that her Clown Prince wasn't there. "Puddin'?" she exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. Instead of the Joker, she saw a note placed on his pillow, which read as follows:
Happy Valentine's Day, sweets!
Got a special little surprise planned for my gorgeous little gal – follow the roses to fun.
Love,
Mr. J.
P.S. Bring your hammer, knife and gun, and wear something comfortable. You're gonna be a very active girl.
Harley squeaked happily, leaping out of bed and rushing to her closet. "Comfortable, comfortable," she muttered, leafing through her clothing. "This one's pretty comfortable, although I'm not sure how revealing he wants it to be," she said, pulling out a thong and see-through bra. "I mean, presentation's really important with Mr. J. The setup to a gag is almost as important as the punchline itself, that's what he always says. He wouldn't like me ruining the punchline by giving away too much too early…"
She tossed the thong and bra aside, and pulled out a her silk red chemise, lined with black lace. She slipped this on and then rushed to the bathroom.
"Makeup or no makeup?" she asked the mirror, frowning. "Mr. J said it's gonna be fun. Clowns are fun. Makeup," she said firmly, diving for her makeup bag. She put on her usual clown face, complete with harlequin hat and then looked at herself in the mirror. "Happy Valentine's Day, puddin'," she breathed, striking a seductive pose and smiling. "Wanna rev up your Harley? Yeah, he'll love that!" she exclaimed, rushing from the room. "Oops, almost forgot the weapons!" she said, rushing back and grabbing them. She put the gun and the knife in a holster around her thigh, and threw her hammer over her shoulder. "Wonder what he wants these for. Sounds kinda kinky, but that's fine. You gotta get used to kinky when you're with a guy like Mr. J. He ain't very traditional in any sense of the word, and certainly not in the bedroom. God, I love him!" she sighed.
She hurried out of the bedroom to see a trail of roses leading down the hall. "He's so thoughtful, going through all this effort for me!" sighed Harley, following them. "People say he don't love me, but they don't know him, and all the special things he does for me just to show me how much he cares! He's such a great guy, and I'm so lucky to have him! And he is gonna get to ride his Harley all night long for being such a sweetheart," she giggled. "Aw, I love Valentine's Day!"
She skipped down the path of roses, which led out the back door of the hideout and to a disused factory just around the corner. She pushed open the door and stepped into the darkness inside. "Puddin'?" she called. "You in here?"
A single spotlight suddenly snapped onto her, and she flinched at the unexpected brightness, shielding her eyes with her hand and trying to see above the shaft of light. "Puddin'?" she repeated.
She heard his laugh. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby!" he exclaimed. "Ready for your surprise? It's gonna be a whole lotta fun!"
"Sure am, puddin'!" she exclaimed.
"Ok, baby. I thought we'd spice things up a little this year. You know how much Daddy J loves his violence?"
"Sure do, puddin'," she breathed. "And I brought the weapons, just like you wanted."
"Good girl," he murmured. "So here's the surprise, Harl. I've spent weeks devising a series of challenges especially for you, my adorable little pumpkin pie."
"Challenges?" repeated Harley, confused.
"Yeah, physical challenges, so Daddy can watch his girl do a little fighting and get himself in the mood. You know nothing makes my slide whistle grow like seeing you in action, cupcake."
"Oh, puddin'," breathed Harley. "I could always blow it for you, baby."
"This will be more fun, Harley, trust me," he chuckled. "It'll make the pleasure last longer for both of us. Level 1 isn't gonna be too hard for you, baby. Just behind that door are twenty hardened thugs newly sprung from Blackgate penitentiary. Seeing you in that cute little number is gonna make them even more hardened and sprung, so you'll need to take them out as quickly as possible before they hurt you, baby girl. But I know that'll be a piece of cake for my little pumpkin pie, armed to the teeth as she is and them with only their fists. Plus she is just the best little fighter I know. They don't stand a chance."
Harley stared at him. "What?" she murmured.
"You'll do great, sweets," he said. "And then you can move on to Level 2, which is one step closer to having playtime with me. Don't that make you happy, baby?"
"But…Mr. J…"
"That's my girl! Go get 'em, slugger!"
"But…"
The factory lights flicked on as the door screeched open, and Harley turned around slowly to see a group of buff men rushing at her. Some women's dream, perhaps, but not Harley's. She shrieked, and jumped up onto a stack of boxes, seizing a railing hanging from the ceiling and climbing onto it. She clutched it tightly with one hand while shooting at the convicts with the other.
"I'd save my bullets if I were you, pumpkin," said Joker. "You might want them later. C'mon, baby, go in there and get physical."
"You nuts?" shrieked Harley. "I can't fight in a teddy!"
"I did tell you to wear something comfortable, pooh."
"I thought you meant that in a sexy way!" shouted Harley. "It wasn't an unreasonable thing to think on Valentine's Day when your boyfriend leaves you a note saying he's prepared a fun surprise for you! Other gals get flowers and chocolate, me, I get a death trap!"
"A fun trap, baby!" exclaimed Joker. "C'mon, sweets, you'd enjoy a little punch up to get you in the mood, wouldn't you, pooh? These punks ain't got a prayer against my cute little killing machine. Go on, kiddo. Make Daddy proud."
Harley sighed heavily. "I must be outta my mind," she muttered, sheathing her gun and pulling out her hammer. She flipped off the railing and landed on the ground in front of the men. "All right, boys, let's dance," she hissed.
She slammed her hammer into them, taking out three in one blow. The others rushed her and she flipped over them, throwing her knife into one guy's throat. She landed on his body, ripped out the knife, and then backflipped away from her attackers. She sprang forward suddenly, kicking two of the men in the face, knocking them into two others as she swung her hammer into the crowd again. She used her free hand to punch a guy in the face while headbutting another, and then started swinging her hammer wildly.
It took her about three minutes to neutralize everyone in the room. She dropped the hammer at last, panting heavily and looking around to make sure none of the guys were moving. Then she heard a rumbling sound.
"Great job, baby! You've made it to Level 2! Good to see you've started working up a sweat – Daddy has too. Keep it up, baby, and Daddy will keep it up, if you know what I mean," he chuckled.
"Mr. J, what…" began Harley, but she suddenly saw several automatic guns rise out of the floor, surrounding her.
"Aw, crud," she muttered.
She jumped out of the way an instant before the guns started rapidly firing bullets into where she had been standing. "Mr. J, this ain't funny!" she shrieked, pounding one of the guns into bits with her hammer.
"Aw, c'mon, pooh, aren't you having fun?" he giggled. "I know I am."
"You're having fun watching me nearly die?!" demanded Harley, taking out two more of the guns.
"Just getting into the spirit of the holiday, cupcake," he chuckled. "St. Valentine was tortured on this day in 273 A.D. Think of it as a tribute to him. And ain't you ever heard of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre? Al Capone's guys shooting up Bugs Moran's over some illegal hooch? Well, this is my Valentine's Day Massacre. My Harley girl kicking the crap outta things to please her Mr. J. It's educational and entertaining."
Harley smashed the last of the guns to pieces and whirled around to face him. "Mr. J, I've had just about enough of this ridiculous game…"
"But you just got to the boss level, Harl! Level 3! Let's see who's behind door number 2!" he laughed.
Harley heard the door raise and turned to see a giant robot painted to look like a clown and carrying a gun. "Harley, meet Captain Clown. Captain Clown, Harley."
The robot raised its gun and fired it at Harley, who barely jumped out of the way in time. "Captain, that's no way to treat a lady!" said Joker, in mock offense. "Better teach him some manners, baby."
"Bastard," hissed Harley, reaching for her own gun. She pointed it at the robot and pulled the trigger. It clicked.
"Told you not to waste all your bullets on the guys, pumpkin pie!" laughed Joker. "Now you're gonna have to work real hard and be real creative to defeat the Captain. You know Daddy loves it when you get creative, baby," he giggled.
"You'll be laughing through the other side of your face when I get my hands on you," muttered Harley, dropping the gun and looking around. The robot fired his gun at her again as she sprinted towards him and flipped over his head. Or at least, that was the idea, but the robot caught her in mid-air, flinging her across the room so she hit the wall on the other side. She gasped, winded, and rolled out of the way just in time to miss the hail of bullets. Looking up, she noticed the lights swinging above her head, and struggled to her feet. She did a running jump onto some boxes and then climbed the railing hanging from the ceiling, whipping out her knife and working at the cables holding the lights up.
She shrieked and dodged out of the way of another round of bullets, nearly grazing her. She took a deep breath and refocused on the cable, cutting it with shaking hands. It snapped at last, sending the lights plummeting to the ground, and leaving the cable sparking.
Harley dropped down to the ground. "Hey sailor, looking for a good time?" she said, grinning. "Come and get me!"
The robot approached her, raising its gun and aiming it at her head. Harley jumped out of the way as it fired, and seized the cables. She pulled herself up with them and landed on the robot's shoulders, and then wrapped the cables around its neck, slamming the sparking end into its face.
It began to short circuit, fizzing and sizzling as Harley jumped to the ground. It fell to the floor with a crash, smoking.
"Shocking behavior, baby!" giggled Joker. "Now come and get your prize, pooh bear. You've certainly earned it."
Harley grabbed her hammer and stormed up the stairs to the manager's office. She threw open the door and Joker turned to face her, beaming and holding out his arms.
"Come to Daddy, sweets," he murmured.
Harley shook her head, tapping her hammer lightly against her open palm. "Nah uh," she hissed. "You wanted a little violence to get you in the mood. Well, now it's my turn, puddin'."
"Harley…Harley, calm down…," said Joker, the smiling gradually falling from his face as she approached him. "Now, Harley, let's not do something we'll regret…Harley, listen to Daddy…Harley…Harley!"
One of the prisoners from Blackgate who had been knocked unconscious gradually regained his senses. He stood up hesitantly, hearing banging and screaming from the manager's office. But he honestly couldn't tell if it was screams of pain or pleasure, and he hurried from the factory before he could find out.
Several hours later, the Joker lit a cigar and inhaled deeply, sighing in contentment as he exhaled. "Now that, Harley, is what I call a good, old-fashioned Valentine's Day Massacre."
"Sure is, Mr. J," sighed Harley dreamily, cuddling against him.
"You think we should go get dinner?" he asked. "Someplace fancy, maybe?"
Harley shrugged. "We can if you want. Although we probably don't look very presentable, covered in blood and cuts and bruises and stuff. And it kinda hurts to move," she hissed, as she tried to sit up. "But in a nice way, y'know."
"Yeah, I know," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "Maybe we'll just stay in. Order a pizza and watch a nice romantic film or something. You like Casablanca, sweets?"
Harley snorted. "Who doesn't?"
He shrugged. "I think the ending's kinda funny. Giving up a doll like that for some crazy ideas about heroism and nobility. Old Bogey must be outta his mind. I mean, I'm a pretty unstable guy, but I wouldn't give up my little gal for all the ideals in the world."
"Really, puddin'?" breathed Harley, adoringly.
"Really," he replied, sincerely. "I would if it was funny, y'know, for a joke or something. But not for something as meaningless as doing the right thing. That'd be just plain nuts."
Harley kissed him tenderly. "I love you, puddin'," she breathed.
He chuckled, patting her cheek fondly. He then struggled to his feet, trying to ignore the pain as he hobbled across the room and opened a closet, to reveal a bottle of champagne on ice. He poured two glasses and brought one back over to Harley.
She raised her glass to him. "Happy Valentine's Day, my angel," she whispered.
He chinked it. "Here's looking at you, kid," he murmured, grinning.
They finished their drinks and got dressed. And then Harley smiled and reached out for the Joker, who smiled back, picked her up gently, and carried her back to the hideout in his arms.
The End