This is inspired by a story I read, where Harley wasn't breathing after the bath in acid. Eventually she's fine and all is god and dandy, but what if there was a different ending to that scene.
~Ren
Joker watched as she tumbled down, and sighed in satisfaction at the splash she made. He turned, but a gut feeling wrenched at him. It was nagging, ad not in the delicious kind of way, no it was pain, and the feeling you get when you see someone else using your stuff without them asking.
Doubtfully and angrily he turned, took off his jacket and flung himself off the ledge. It wasn't the most elegant thing he'd ever done. J was more used to shows, like swan diving, but no, he just let himself fall, free form just until he hit the bubbling acid, finally making his body to conform to a more aerodynamic and better diving shape.
Blurry as his sight in the liquid was, he eventually found Harleen. She was limp, dragged and sucked down by the chemicals, her body lagging and as he pulled her up, he noticed the absence of the rise and fall of her blessed chest. Instead she lay in his arms, frozen in her devotion to him, willing to do anything he said.
Playing it off, Mr. J quickly attempted a mouth to mouth maneuver, expecting her to come alive and second, kiss him and both of them laugh themselves into oblivion. But that never happened. In fact, it did nothing. Harleen's body was limp in his arms as he began to smoothly pull her out of the vat, angry with her for wasting his time in not waking up.
Joker dragged her out of the container and set her on the ground. Ineffectively he slapped her, trying to get her to make up. She didn't. He screamed. "Dammit Harley! Wake up!" He shouted his voice loud and angry. He put too much work into her for this. Briefly he noticed that she was now paler than before, and her hair was blanched white, the color of both their shirts swirling together, mixing into a cacophony on her head. She really was very beautiful. Beauty and the Beast.