Till Death Do Us Part
The clown laugh alarm went off, and was abruptly silenced as the Joker reached under his pillow, ripped out his gun, and shot the clown in the face. He muttered in his sleep, dropping the gun to the floor and rolling over to try to get comfortable again. This was difficult as the bed was covered in various toys – stuffed animals, whoopie cushions, rubber chickens, and other gag items, but he found an awkward space in between these and tried to drift off. Harley Quinn, who was sleeping next to him, suddenly sighed and cuddled up next to him, flinging her arm across him and straddling his leg. He grunted in annoyance, shifting position again and knocking some of the toys onto the ground as he shoved her arm off him. He was dropping off to sleep when Harley figeted again, replacing her arm across his chest and sighing happily. He opened his eyes, irritated, and pushed her arm away again. It fell back instantly. He groaned, lifting his wrist and glancing sleepily at his Batman watch.
"Time to get up, Harley," he muttered, shaking her gently.
She didn't respond except to murmur and snuggle against him. With a sigh, he suddenly shoved her off the bed. She hit the floor with a bang and muttered, "Ow."
"I said time to get up!" he snapped. "Now go and make me my coffee, you useless waste of space," he said, adjusting his position again and shutting his eyes.
Harley sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes and struggling slowly to her feet. "Yes, puddin'," she yawned. She saw him curled up in bed and beamed, climbing back onto the mattress.
"Morning, Mr. J," she breathed, bending down to kiss him tenderly.
"I said coffee, you dumb blonde!" he shouted, shoving her violently away from him. "You deaf and stupid?!" he demanded, rolling over.
"Aw, puddin', I love you too," sighed Harley. She ruffled his hair fondly, and he punched her.
"Coffee!" he shouted. "Now!"
"Sure thing, puddin'," she whispered, still smiling at him despite the pain in her jaw. She bent over and kissed his cheek, and then skipped out of their room and down to the kitchen. She whistled as she turned on the coffee machine, looking out the window at the beautiful morning breaking over Gotham City. "What a pretty day!" she exclaimed to no one in particular. "You just can't be grumpy on a morning like this!"
She whistled happily as she took the mugs and returned to their bedroom. "Here ya go, puddin'," she said, placing his mug on the nightstand and kissing his forehead. "It's a beautiful morning out there. Ya wanna…rise and shine?" she whispered, cuddling against his back as she slid her hand up his leg.
He pushed her off. "Not in the mood," he muttered. "Sleep now."
"Aw, c'mon, puddin'," she whispered, straddling his leg again. "Doncha wanna rev up your Harley?"
She began making vrooming noises as she rubbed herself against him. "Harley, get off!" he snapped. "I'm trying to sleep!"
"Thought you said it was time to get up, Mr. J," said Harley, puzzled. "Well, that's what I'm trying to do. Get ya up," she said, reaching for him again.
"I meant it was time for you to get up and make me coffee!" he shouted, shoving her hand away. "Now just sit there and drink yours quietly and let Daddy sleep, ok, pumpkin pie?" he said, rolling over again.
"Ok, Mr. J," said Harley, leaning against the pillows. She stared at him as he slept, beaming in happiness at how gorgeous he was like this.
"Stop staring at me," he muttered.
"Aw, but you're so cute, puddin'," she whispered, kissing his cheek.
"It's creepy!" he snapped. "Just stare at the wall, would ya?"
She obeyed, but still snuck glances at him, smiling. He sighed heavily at last, opening his eyes and rubbing them. "What have I ever done to deserve you?" he muttered, glaring at her as he sat up.
"Aw, puddin', that's how I feel about you too!" sighed Harley, kissing him.
He chugged down his coffee and then stood up. "Just gonna get a shower, kid."
"Sure thing, Mr. J," she said, following him. He slammed the bathroom door in her face and she shrugged. "He should say a shower without me if that's what he means," she reasoned, crawling back into bed and finishing her coffee.
"Puddin'? You wanna come back to bed and take a ride on your Harley?" she asked as he emerged from the bathroom later with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Thought you had housework to do this morning," he snapped, going over to his closet and pulling out his suit. "Why don't you go do that? I got a meeting later I gotta get ready for."
"Aw, but puddin', wouldn't you rather have some playtime with your little girl?" she asked, holding up one of the toys. "I got the whoopie cushion."
"Maybe later," he muttered, dressing. Harley sighed heavily and climbed out of bed. Mr. J was stubborn, but then so was she, she thought with a grin. He won the battle this time, but she wasn't about to stop fighting the war.
She dressed too, and while he went off to his study, she entered the living room and plugged in the vacuum cleaner. She turned it on, and then turned on the radio. She sang along happily as she ran the vacuum across the rug. It switched to a song she really liked and she squealed, climbing up on the table and strumming the vacuum head like an imaginary guitar and banging her head in time to the music.
"She said we gotta hold on to what we got, it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not – we got each other, and that's a lot, for love, we'll give it a shot. WOAAH, we're halfway there, WOOOAHH, living on a prayer – take my hand, and we'll make it, I swear...Woooahh!" she shrieked as she suddenly fell off the table. The Joker had been distracted by the noise and entered the room to tell her to shut up, but had seen the situation and thought it would be funnier to sneak up behind her and push her off the table. He was now laughing hysterically at the joke while Harley lay on the ground, hissing in pain.
"It ain't…funny, Mr. J," she growled, struggling to sit up.
"Yeah, it is, kid," he murmured, grinning at her. "It's always funny when someone gets hurt."
She glared at him and tried to get up, but he suddenly shoved her back down on the floor, kissing her tenderly. "You do make me laugh, Harley, you know that?" he whispered, smiling at her. "Because you're pathetic, of course, but it's still funny."
"Yeah, Mr. J?" she whispered, beaming at him. "I'm funny?"
He chuckled. "You're not funny, you dumb blonde," he murmured, slapping her across the face. She shrieked and he laughed again. "But sometimes the noises you make are."
"Oh…Mr. J!" she breathed as he climbed on top of her. Things were going to escalate very happily for Harley when the doorbell suddenly rang. She sighed heavily as Joker slowly climbed off her.
"Ain't it always the way? You get in the mood and company shows up," he muttered, heading down the hall with Harley skipping after him. "Might have to acid whoever it is in the face for this, Harl," he giggled as he put his hand on the door.
"Mmm, it'll be just the thing to get the mood back," giggled Harley, hugging him tightly as he opened the door.
A woman stood there, very pretty, but with a tremendous sadness in the depths of her big, brown eyes. "Hiya, toots, what can I do ya for?" asked Joker.
She stared at him. "I'm…uh…looking for someone," she whispered in a soft voice.
"Sorry, sweetheart, I ain't the greatest at finding missing persons - just making 'em go missing!" chuckled Joker. "Killed someone close to you, have I? Husband? Boyfriend? Kid?"
"No," she said, quietly. "No…I thought for a long time my husband was dead but…but now I don't think…he is."
She let out a sob, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Jack!" she whispered. "It is you!"
She shoved Harley out of the way suddenly, racing to hug him. "Oh, I wasn't sure for a long time, but now that I see you, in the flesh, and hear your voice, and your laugh…"
She gazed up at him with tears in her eyes. "Doncha recognize me, Jack?" she whispered.
"Erm…no," he stammered, puzzled. "And I'm the Joker, toots – I dunno who this Jack is…"
"He's you," she whispered. "Before your accident, that was your name. Jack Napier. You gotta try to remember, Jack…I'm here now, and I'll help you…"
"And just who the hell are you, toots?" he demanded.
She looked at him in surprise. "You really don't remember me, do you?" she whispered. She took his hand and smiled at him. "It's me, Jack. Jeannie. I'm your wife."