Disclaimer; All publicity, recognizable characters, settings, etc, are property of they're respective owners
Fingertips lightly tiptoed up the expanse of his back, the feeling causing him to grimace. It was like being swarmed by a gathering of cockroaches, all wheedling they're way around, nudging, flittering and crawling along his flesh. Then soft palms were resting on his shoulders, needing them gently and affectionately. Again, not nice. Why'd he have to be landed with the one henchgirl, who acted like a common alley cat? Why was it, that no matter how many times he beat, scolded, punished, disciplined and tried to reeducate, Harley Quinn just never grasped the concept of personal space? Joker had delved into a series of possibilities, of why the blonde was so damn needy, so...hungry, for his attention constantly. The thought had popped into his mind, that perhaps she was deprived of any affection from a young age. Maybe. But then again, maybe not. Besides, she had the confidence to at least try to seek out being noticed; whether that be dressing whorishly or humming mindlessly, so his theory contradicted itself.
The hands on his shoulders changed direction, altering they're prior motive of being used 'innocently' and drifted to his chest, creeping slowly lower towards the fly of his purple pants. His fingers clenched into balling fists, crushing the crayon that he was previously scribbling numerical codes with, instantly. Joker wasn't a man to relinquish this sort of...dominance, his little Harleykins was trying to hold, voluntary; and hadn't the damn woman understood yet, that he hated the 'softly softly' approach...with anything?
Joker's entire form tensed and he knew when his teeth clamped shut and his jaw went tight, that he was about to attack. Unfortunately, poor Harley hadn't quite learnt to read these little...warning signs quick enough -or even take them as silent encouragement to back off- and giggled, probably thinking in her dippy mind, that he was battling against certain male urges. How could she be so clueless? Perhaps a new lesson needed to be taught here. Within an instance, he'd swung around on the chair he was seated in, and belted the harlequin hard across the face, sending her flying to the floor. Dumb broad, he thought, a low growl escaping his throat.
The petite blonde yelped at the impact of hitting the ground and winced as her elbow connected cruelly on its hard surface. Getting up from his seat, Joker clicked his neck, flexed his leather clad fingers and darted his tongue out of his mouth, caressing his lips with one quick slither. Then he turned, slowly and dauntingly on his heel. With his back now facing the old, oak desk he was just working at, he stared maliciously down at the jester. "Harley Harley Harley" He began, tsking softly with a shake of his head. Casually strolling over to her, with a slight skip in his step, Joker walked around his crumpled henchgirl, like a shark circling a baby seal and smiled almost...innocently. Almost. "Daddy was working, pumpkin pie. I'm on the verge of conducting the most, frankly, super duper productive scheme to wipe that Bat, that Dork Knight, off the face of the entire spectrum and youuuh…" Pausing momentarily, to place his foot upon her stomach, Joker cocked his head to the side, in the usual psychotic fashion, and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth "...You, Harley, you just cant keep those paws of yours, to yourself. Hmm. What do ya think I should do about that? Perhaps its time for Dr. J to get out his tool kit and engage in a little home amputation. I always find that to be rather...refreshing. Quite stress relieving in fact"
Harley, bless her little cotton socks, shook her head widely in protest, clearly sympathetic for interrupting his 'important' work. "I'm s-sorry, puddin'. It was...I was...I-I just…" The poor thing; she mumbled out a few more incoherent words, obviously scared out her mind, just how he liked her, and begged silently with those big baby blues of hers.
"Me me me, I I I, self self self. That's all you ever think of, baby" Joker commented mockingly with a sneer. "What about you're dear old Mister J's needs? Hm? You don't think about him, do you Harley? Nooo. Clearly not. It's. All. About. You, aint it, my sw-heet?"
"No, no I did mean tah disturb you, puddin', I was-"
"There's that I, again" The clown interjected, pressing his foot harder onto her stomach, eliciting a small, ever so small, cry to pour from her mouth. "It seems I've been spoiling you, you've become far too greedy for your own good"
"Sorry, Sorry, Sorry, Mistah J!" Harley blurted out all at once. She wasn't really that bothered about the fact he was hurting her. It was more knowing she'd disappointed him, let him down, driven him to boiling point -although, that didn't usually take much prompting- Besides, Harley liked anything he did to her; it was like the old saying, any publicity is good publicity. She didn't care what he was doing, so long as he was giving her the attention she so desperately sought after. That, surprisingly, gave her the upper hand in most situations and she knew he had already understood that. Every time he'd hit out, he'd be feeding her off a silver platter. Perhaps he did it, thinking she'd tire of it, give up and wanting him, and just act how the rest of his workforce did. But then, that made too much sense and the Joker never made any immediate sense in anything he did.
Almost as if he'd read her thoughts, scrutinized her brainwaves and studied little 'conceptions', Joker moved his foot, then launched it into her lower abdomen with unyielding force. Then again and again until Harley was wheezing from lack of air, her face turning a puce red detectable even through the white makeup. After a short moment he snorted, his eyes turned to slits and he backed away from her struggling form. This was the part she couldn't stand and he knew it. The whole, leaving thing. But surely, him just walking away, made her want him more? Like if a parent forbids a teenager from seeing their first love; it just drives them to disobey the 'rules' for disobeying sake.
Sauntering back to his desk, Joker grabbed the broken crayon, licked the end -rather unnecessarily- and, being the perfectionist he was, finished adding the final numbers to his coded sequence. Now for the moment he thrived in; watching Harley's little heart brake. Strolling towards the door, Joker purposely slowly took his time in turning the handle and made a show of opening it so the wood creaked. Heh. It was all apart of the plan, the grand scheme. She'd be a good girl. She'd cower at his feet. She'd do as she was told and fear him. That was just the way it went. Sneaking a small peek at Harley's adorable face, all wet, the jester face paint smudged and her bottom lip quivering, Joker exited the room giggling at the reality of how much he actually...liked the kid.
A||N: Okay, a heads up; this was written at 3am-ish so there will be typos. Sowwwwy. Try to ignore them. Also, both Joker and Harley may be a little (or lot) out of character. Again, this was written pretty darn early in the morning, so don't be too judgmental. Any constructive criticism, is actually wanted. I'm not a particularly strong writer, in comparison to most, so I am in need of some direction. Reviews tooooo please. I love em', they make me feel oh so tingly inside.