Title: Pawns
Author: TheMadPuppy
E-mail: themadpuppy85yahoo.ca
Permission to archive: Yes, just tell me!
Category: Drama, Romance…the usual.
Genre: Hetero
Rating: T.
Summary: She was going to die in the name of a joke.
Keywords: Joker, Harley, Whore.
Spoilers: None. Set after Mad Love and their many adventures.
Disclaimer: I know you're surprised, but I don't own the Batman franchise (yet). It's the strict property of DC Comics until I get insanely rich and/or blow the editor's brains out.
Author Notes: Another one lying in computer since a really long time. I finally took the time to tweak it up—enjoy.

PAWNS

She didn't give a fuck it was for the Greatness of the Plan.

The fact was, Puddin' was talking to a lousy prostitute—right under her nose. That is, playing his charm off, sugar-talking her and all that jazz while the whore blinked in a far too appreciative manner.

Of course, it could be because of the wallet full of an insane amount of money he was shoving in her face (down her throat, Harley wished), but a girl never could be too sure. After all, trusting your gut feeling was the key to survival in life like in love, and as sure as she knew that Puddin' adored her, deep down inside, she could tell that something fishy was going on.

And she hated fish.

-x-x-x-

Harley was truly a one in a lifetime opportunity.

Ask any devil; the point in breaking something wasn't to fix it, even in the way he deems it fit, but to see it fall. Every girl in her right mind would know that even the most desperate slut wouldn't come close to him even if he offered sixty billions dollars, and anyone with a brain would find the idea of Joker paying for sex (or anything for that matter) totally laughable. But since Harley wasn't the former and totally lost the later when it came to him, he could continue to pull the strings of his little puppet's heart tight until she broke herself on her own accord.

-x-x-x-

She was going to die.

The slimy, strangely not-quite-yet decayed touch of the madman's fingertips on her pulsing jugular, pumping furiously life into her eyes, her sight, right to this nightmarish vision, this farce of a client, left her with little doubt about it. She was going to cease and vanish, in some atrocious and vicariously creative way, and suffer, and cry, and beg for mercy in the name of a joke.

Or in the name of love.

The last thought was more frightening than the first, and her mind ran to some article she read earlier in the sunny day, some stupid statistic by some cretin researcher on some whores on how Joker was the safest freak to meet for a deadly rendez-vous, safe as in--

if I had to die, I think I'd wish…the Joker, yeah. I mean he's kinda asexual, right? Or a maid, didn't he have a maid? God it's

--safe because he was a "matched" psychopath, of course, and suddenly the absurdity of a such a rational thought brought tears to her eyes because--

"I'm going to die because she loves you."

"Wrong. You're going to die because I know it. Say bye-bye, sweetie."

Pawns-End

End Notes
Harley is funny, Harley is angsty, but most people forget, Harley is lethal. She's a weapon Joker can load and fire, which I think this fic illustrates quite nicely. My only regret is that in the process Joker looks more like a calculative mastermind than an insane clown, closer to the Batman: Harley Quinn rendition than, say, the NML portrait.