Dedicated to my dear Juney-chan. Happy birthday and thank you for being my source of inspiration.


You press the knife
Against your heart.
And say,
"I love you, so much you must kill me now."
If I Was Your Vampire - Marilyn Manson


She stepped out of the shadows, on high heels with black velvet strapped to her ankles. The men that had gathered in the street corner stopped and stared. At this time of night, the Narrows was perfect for business.

"Pumpkin?" A low, threatening voice drifted out from behind her.

"Right here, puddin'." Her red lips parted in a big, welcoming smile, teeth glimmering in the dim light from the street lamps. She took another step out into the street, approaching the men, and whistles and shouts flew through the air. Harley giggled and made a little pirouette, presenting her black skintight leather suit from all angles.

In one swift movement she was standing in front of one of the men, staring him up and down and nodding approvingly. "You're cute."

"Hey there -"

"Sorry boys, I ain't got no time to play!"

Her hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close. His eyes widened just as she let her lips sweep across his throat, before biting down, crushing flesh and arteries. Warm, wet blood filled her mouth and she buried her nails into his chest. The other men cheered on loudly, drunken and confused calls bouncing off the walls.

Harley withdrew with a grimace, shuddering at the unclean taste. The man slumped over her shoulder and she shook him off, seeing the pool of blood staining his shirt.

She winked at the others and blew a kiss. "I hope you'll be good boys, or I'll hunt you down!"

"Now Harley, why don't you wait your turn?"

He came strolling out of the dark, his big toothy grin shocking the men into silence. It didn't falter as he stopped, meeting the shocked gazes of his preys. The men started backing off instinctively, shattering into different directions. One made a run for it and Harley dashed after him, quicker than a snake attacking, disappearing into the shadows with an acrobatic leap. "We ain't done yet!"

"You're welcome to join us tonight", Joker reassured the others with a maniacal smile. "The fun has just started!" He picked something up from his pocket, the thick, slightly curved blade gleaming ominously. He stroked the knife tenderly with his fingertips. "It's been aching all night! Which one of you gentlemen would like to start?"

None of them stayed to honor his invitation, but their escape attempts were wasted; his beloved knife wanted to play just as much as he did. He caught one of the men around the waist and threw him onto the ground. Joker skipped over to him, giggling to himself as he heard the sound of the spine cracking.

.

Harley rose from the ground, a bit unsteadily, and dusted herself off. The corpse at her feet was already cold and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then let the loud screams guide her back through the dark streets. A part of her wanted to continue the hunt now when she had started, to follow the trails all around her into alleys and gates.

The alcohol from the blood she'd consumed made her a bit unfocused, but at least the guy had not been a junkie. Last time she had been crawling back through the street afterwards, trying to keep herself from falling over into a heap as the street turned violently around her.

The Narrows reminded her vaguely of another time, when she had been hurrying home from work through the streets on high heels, purse close to her body, keys at ready, always prepared to scream. Harley blinked a few times, seeing the world sway slightly as she passed through, police sirens in the distance not bothering her.

It was the primetime of jokes, of playtime.

"I'm back!" She entered the street just in time to see Joker rise from the remains of a body, that had been split from the head to toe. He licked a few drops of red from his thick blade.

"Daddy's busy," he mumbled, turning towards the last, half-dead body.

Harley walked over, trying to keep from swaying too much, smiling from ear to ear. She could vaguely hear some of the henchmen talk about the police coming. She threw her head back and breathed deeply, feeling the rustic smell of blood, alcohol and metallic, and the very scent that was the Joker. The smells were all around, intoxicating.

Six corpses were spread out nicely, big red smiles on their faces. The blood had welled out of their skinned bodies and flooded down the street, and she realized he still hadn't drunk much. A tense anticipation settled within her when she saw his eyes, that were barely a hue darker than usual. His ability to resist always confused her.

"Ya think they'll get here in time?" she giggled. "It's like the good old days... The clubs, blocked exits, no survivors..." She grinned, only to hear a few heavy steps in her direction, before his hand closed around her throat.

His eyes stared straight at her in a way that made her entire body shiver, gasping for air. He walked her backwards, until she felt the solid brick wall against her back. Harley thrust her hips forward, desperately trying to touch him, but he stayed just out of reach.

She knew his hunger must be bothering him, and she arched her neck as another shiver ran through her.

He let go of her neck abruptly, pushing her head into the wall, before his body pressed against hers. She ground herself against him, feeling him harden. His hands were on her wrists and her heart rushed. His aura was tense enough to touch her, the manic energy radiating from him surrounding her completely.

She gave him a sugary sweet smile and felt his lips on her neck, a velvet sensation a second before his razor sharp teeth tore through her skin. He was always rough when he took her, when he tasted her and when he drank from her, and tonight he was unusually worked up.

Her body pressed into his and he pushed her back against the wall with his hips, his eyes closing as he drank. Her hands wandered over his tight, black shirt and the white skin visible underneath, then grabbed his waist. His teeth assaulted her neck in a way that was deliciously painful. Harley tugged at his pants, whining loudly, which made his grip around her wrists tighten.

Venom pooled in her mouth, she wanted to bite him back, to devour him too.

She moaned quietly, as he held her in a vice grip like that, knowing her own energy would feed him and strengthen him again. After a while he withdrew with a slight grunt, letting go of her. A few drops lingered on his lips and she leaned forward to taste them, kissing him hungrily. She loved the light-headed feeling when he had taken so much blood from her that she was barely able to stand.

He put his knife back into his pocket and gestured to the henchmen that they were leaving, with Harley trailing behind. The sirens grew closer, people came rushing into the street behind them, and Joker got his favorite .45 out of his holster and shot them without slowing his steps.

.

.

.

The room was encased in shadow, only a small pillar of light fell upon the rectangle resembling a bed in the middle; a mess of crumbled up sheets.

Joker growled quietly and rolled over, shielding his eyes from the burning daylight. A thick lump in his throat had woken him up, a terrible itch. It worsened when he took a slow breath, the smells of the room rushing into him.

His other hand reached out behind him, searching for another body behind his. One that was warmer than his own, yet cold like a corpse. His muscles tightened when he felt the soft skin, and her sugary smell washed over him, mixed up with the metallic that she had. Dried blood - his mouth salivated.

He didn't know or care how many days had passed since they were out hunting together, but thanks to a certain masked vigilante, those trips were getting more rare.

Harley whined sleepily as she leaned over and started gnawing on his shoulder, not daring to actually bite without his permission. Her small, yet sharp teeth rubbed lovingly against his skin. His own need was growing thicker in his throat, it felt like he had emptied a bucket of sand in it. His fangs pressed against his grill and his lower abdomen tensed in anticipation.

She was so close, pressing her body against his, whimpering. He shoved her away.

"Please, Puddin'…"

He ground his teeth. He was hungry, but she wasn't well-fed either. As much as he wanted to devour her piece by piece, let his jaws sink into that heavenly soft flesh, he had had no other meals for a couple of days, and she'd be weakened for the next day or two. When he drank too much from other people, Harley always threw a fit – you must drink from me! she had declared with tears in her eyes and a gun pointed at his head.

So then it had to be her. He only wanted her. His Harley-pie was better than pure cocaine, the only one that could fully restore him, and he wanted to take more than one slice. He had nearly sucked the life out of her a few times, until she lost consciousness for days, and he saw no point in resisting now.

He turned over, closing his eyes to shut that annoying ray of light out, and settled next to her, letting his hand run up and down her chest. She shivered in anticipation, eyes wide open.

Just like Harleen had been, begging him with her eyes and body, take me and make me yours. Just let me into your world. Please.

Harleen had been wide-eyed, open, easy to form. She was once lifeless in his arms, a perfect porcelain doll dripping of acid, and he decided to change her. To force her heart to beat again.

Harley had purple shadows underneath her eyes that were unusually sunken into her head. She was hungry, he could smell it and feel it, but she always let him feed first. He would rarely return the favor, hating to be left weak after someone had taken from him, and instead let Frost bring her food – henchmen that weren't pulling their weight, hostages, and other criminals.

Seeing her in her deadly, sadistic dance with them was enough to make his blood boil with rage and desire. He often ended up killing her dinner despite her loud protests: Dead food is gross, Puddin'!

Now she bared her pale, perfect throat, and he stroked some pink strands of hair away. Her pulse was dancing for him, teasing him, and he growled. She arched her neck in the same teasing way she always did. Her enlarged pupils almost swallowed up her blue eyes and her mouth fell open.

He let his mouth hover above her neck, her scent overflowing and enveloping him in a firm hold, his body locked in place.

"Say it," he mumbled, letting his tongue sweep across her skin.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty –" Her voice was getting more slurry, he couldn't determine if there was a hint of fear there. She shut her eyes, but he grabbed her face a bit harsher than he had intended. Her eyes opened and she stared right into him for a few seconds.

Their gazes met. Deep, endless, looking into each other's darkest places. Her blood was already eager to leave her body and flow into his, turn into his strength.

"Please," Harley mumbled, her hands latching onto his bare torso and burying his nails in his skin.

He groaned and then let his teeth find the warm, pulsating vein. His metal grill made the bite harder, and a thick river flowed into his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her upright, cradling her, as he sucked.

Strongly concentrated euphoria caressed his throat and tongue, every gush of fluid making his body tense. A faint taste of something acid flowed along with vague pictures and memories that he didn't care to delve deeper in.

Her grip around him grew weaker and her arms fell down limply by her side as his grip tightened around her. That part inside of him wanted to devour her whole, her flesh and bones, and it was most powerful like this. Just one harder bite would make her one with him.

She was already deathly pale, and his bite had been messy, causing the blood to run down across her purple gown and his hands.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and her body became limp in his arms. With a growl he pulled away; he had torn violently into her but the skin was already coming together again, soon there would be pink flesh and a scar there; the cicatrization had already started.

Her cheeks seemed to have sunken into her skull, leaving protruding cheek poison filled his mouth together with the remains of her blood, he swallowed it down and purred, then kissed her.

Satisfaction spread across his insides, he was full for the moment, his strength had returned. He carried her out of the bloodied sheets and placed her in the bathtub, then let the water run and wash it all off her as she weakly came to her senses again.

When she opened her eyes, her pupils had dilated and almost swallowed up her entire eyes. The wound in her throat was healing, and he could see her ribs poke out of her dress. He could physically see the blood-thirst travel through her body, her eyes were alert like a predator, following his every moment. Her teeth was bared. She was too weakened to get up by herself, but if he came within reach he knew she would try to kill him.

He didn't mind, as he watched the last remains of blood go down the drain.

He didn't mind at all.

Joker leaned closer and offered his flesh before she could attack, and he shuddered when her dry lips centered over his bicep, leaving a wet trail of saliva, before she bit down hard. The pleasurable sensation traveled through his body, of her taking back some of her own from him.

He let her drink until she had regained enough strength to stand up again. Harley stood up, then pounced on him. Weakly her lips sought out his neck and sucked without piercing it, entangling her body with his, desperate whimpers spilling out of her. He carried her back to the bed, and Harley's eyes wouldn't leave his.

He knew it, and clenched his teeth in frustration. She was in his bloodstream as he was in hers.

She had become a part of him.


A/N: Love to hear your thoughts!