**These characters aren't
mine, also, I don't follow the shows continuity that
closely in here. Fearless belongs Simon Pulse, and Francine Pascal**
**2024**
Harley lay cold between the sheets of her full-sized bed, waiting, eyes open
wide, ears strained for the tell-tale turn of the lock.
Waiting for her "Puddin'" to come busting
angrily through the door. No doubt, he'd
had another run-in with the Batman.
She reached down and clutched the burgundy comforter, pulling it up roughly
under her chin. Maybe he wouldn't bother
her if she played dead. Pretended she
was asleep.
She could hear the lock as it turned and the front door groaned in protest when
the Joker opened it.
She could hear the heaving of the couch as he threw his rain soaked body onto
the dusty cushions, and then him mumbling and the sound of footsteps as he
neared the closed bedroom door.
Harley winced and then sighed silently in relief as he went towards the
bathroom instead. She listened as he
growled in pain, dabbing peroxide on his cuts, and the tear of the medical
tape.
The bathroom light clicked as he turned it off, before coming back down the
hallway stopping outside of the door. He
turned the knob, and the hall light fell across Harley's deathly still body. She held her breath, clutching the small gold
Star of David that hung tenderly around her neck.
Joker didn't bother to close the door, and begin to undress, throwing his
clothes down onto the floor, and around the small, ill-furnished bedroom. "I know your awake Harley." he said
coolly, Harley sighed again before turning over to face him.
"Hiyah Puddin',"
she said in a high, squeaky, Yiddish accented voice.
Joker didn't respond, just proceeded to force her nightgown off of her body.
"Puddin', w-what a-are you
d-doing?" Harley asked in a shaky voice, reaching for Joker's arm.
Joker back-handed her down onto the covers, silencing her.
Harley looked to the doorway, small blue eyes peered terrified, blond hair like
her mother's, why it was curly, no one knew, hanging loosely around her
face. She bit her lip, as he entered
her, and lip-synched for the little girl to go back to her room. Her eyes disappeared, and small feet plodded
quickly down the hallway, back to false-safety.
**
Terry paced, breath floating like a cloud in front of him outside of the club
entrance.
He wondered if he should go back inside, try to make peace with Dana, apologize
for being late again.
They'd made a scene, she'd told him she was done, tired of waiting for him,
tired of half-assed excuses that didn't explain anything, and worst of all,
done with him.
"I guess it had to end sometime." he said frowning lightly.
He began to walk, where he didn't know, guess there was only one place to go,
back to the cave.
It took him an hour to get to the far-north end of the city, he'd have taken
bus, but he didn't have any creds.
He looked up, studying the sharp line that was a border to Wayne manor, where
the pavement ended, and the long dirt-lane driveway began to wind up to the
front gates.
He looked up to Bruce's house, majestic,
surrounded by trees like a castle.
"How fitting, oh Dark Knight." he said bitterly.
He began to trudge up the driveway, realizing he was becoming more and more
like Bruce, destined for a lonely existence in a house with a dog.
"What are you doing here?" a deep, painful voice asked.
It belonged to Bruce Wayne, out on a midnight stroll.
Terry jumped, "So now I'm not allowed to come to work is that it, are you
done with me too?!" Terry sighed apologetically, feeling defeated, "Sorry,
bad day."
Bruce didn't answer, eyebrows arching, feigning interest.
"She's tired of my excuses, tired of me leaving her out in the cold all
the time. She's right though... You know a lot about women,
maybe you can help m--"
Terry was well aware of
Bruce's status as a young man. Able to get any woman he wanted.
Bruce raised his hand, stopping Terry mid-sentence.
"Oh come on Bruce, you mean to tell me, all those girls and you didn't
learn a thing?"
Bruce shook his head, "You'll learn."
"Learn what?!" Terry asked confused.
"The only thing a man needs to know about a women is that when you bring
one into your life, don't expect peaches and cream."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"I'll tell you the day you become a man." Bruce said smiling slyly.
"What are you talking about? I'm a man!"
"A seventeen-year-old boy is not a man." Bruce said turning around,
and beginning to walk away.
"Hey, come on!" Terry yelled after him.
Terry waiting, becoming angrier as Bruce walked away. The harsh face of silence was even worse when
you were freezing cold.
"Fine!" he said, turning around and leaving, he didn't care if Wayne fired him.
**
Melanie sat on a bench in the park, head bent over the
newest installment of Fearless, hunched down to ward off the cold, swearing
up and down with every word that she was just like Gaia.
The only difference was her father was there, very much there.
She wondered if she could spend the night at Max's house again. She knew it wasn't an issue with Max's
parents, they were divorced, and her mother was never home.
Now what to tell her own mother... She'd have to think of that when she got
there.
Gathering her bag, and placing a fallen leaf between the pages to hold her sheet,
Melanie stood to leave. She walked while
putting her book in her bag, walking headfirst into another kid.
"Oops, sorry." she said, reaching down to pick up her book.
"That's alright, my fault." he responded, handing to her instead.
Melanie rubbed the tender
spot on her forehead where she'd clumsily walked into the other person. Looking
up, she began to blush furiously as he smiled. He had nice Raven hair, cut into
a chili-bowl, and sharp blue eyes that sparkled with the night. She sighed as
she began to thank him again.
"Hey, no sweat. Besides, what's a girl as
beautiful as you doing out here anyway, it's like 12:47 already."
"Anything just to avoid going home." Melanie
answered quietly.
He frowned with concern, "Is there something going on between you and your
folks?"
Melanie nodded, "Nothing that can't be put off for a few hours."
"Where are you headed? It wouldn't be very gentleman-like if I didn't walk
you."
Melanie smiled appreciatively, "I was on my way to a friend's house, maybe you know her, Max, Max Gibson?"
He smiled, "You know Max? Wow, she's one of my best friend's."
"Strange, she never mentioned you before, what's your name?"
"Terrence McGinnis, but everyone just calls me Terry." he said
extending his hand. "What's yours?"
"Melanie Quinn." she said with a small smile, excepting his hand.
"Any special nicknames?" Terry asked.
"Well, my mom calls me 'Sunny'..."
"Do you mind if I call you Sunny?" Terry asked, tilting his head.
"No, it can be our little secret." she said with a devious smile.
"My kinda secret!"
Terry said smiling back.
The two turned out of the park, and headed northeast towards Max's apartment
together.
**
"Where is she?!" The Joker asked, his voice straining with rage.
Harley trembled in the corner, arms wrapped around her knees, shrinking away
from the horrifying figure across the room.
The Joker grabbed a bowl off the card table that doubled as a dining room
table, and hurled it at the wall.
"I-I-I-I don't k-know, she hasn't been home all day." Harley offered.
The Joker suddenly took a deep breath, and walked calmly towards Harley, a
soothing smile on his face. "Gee Harl, why am I
yelling at you, it's not your fault Melanie's missing."
Harley shrank back further into the corner, she'd learned long ago not to let
her guard down.
The Joker stopped in front of her and stooped down onto his haunches, reaching
out, he began to stroke Harley's cheek.
Harley closed her eyes immediately. Calling his bluff, her head smacked loudly
against the wall as the Joker punched her. Without wasting any time, she let
her body go limp as he grabbed her by the arms and threw her violently into the
wall.
Harley crumpled to the floor unconscious, blood dribbling from her nose and
lip, a black eye forming.
The Joker bit his lip and walked away, still seething. He collapsed onto the
couch and decided that he'd deal with his daughter whenever she decided to make
an appearance.
