Hey guys! So this is my first ever story on this couple. I love hearing feedback, so please, please, please leave a review? Thanks so much! ~A

Harley

My heart scares you… she whispered. But a gun doesn't?

"Go away."

Harley looked at him, at this man who she had followed obsessively, a man for whom she had sacrificed so much. And Harley knew, felt it deeply in the painful thumping of her heart, that he meant it. Mr. J would lose no sleep tonight. With that thought, she looked into his eyes and let him see, showed him every ounce of pain she felt in that moment. His impromptu electroshock therapy had been a splinter compared to the stakes that now skewered her heart.

"Fine."

Turning she walked to the battered bike, and hauling the scraped carcass off the road she let the roar of the engine drown out the screaming in her heart.

Mr. J

He watched her go, a grin plastered on his face. Harleen Quinzell wouldn't be a problem any longer. Laughing, he turned, gingerly stepping over the unlucky truck driver. But the Joker, as he sat in his vehicle, was surprised to find that something in him screamed at him to follow. His throat constricted and he growled out loud. It was not possible. He, the Prince of Gotham, crime lord and nemesis to the bat himself, could not possibly feel anything for her. He had said as much! But the pain in her eyes had affected him, something that had never happened before. He growled again, slamming his fist on the roof in anger. WEAK he was WEAK and it was her fault. Grinding his teeth in frustration the engine roared to life and Mister J, found himself racing after the only pair of eyes that had ever made him feel.

Harley

The streets of Gotham whizzed past her as she desperately raced to leave the city that held only painful memories, behind. Harley wasn't exactly sure where she was going but knew she could not stay in Gotham tonight. She would not stay and watch him rule unless she stood by his side. It was only when the bike shuddered to a stop that Harley realized where she was. Ironic that the last place she would visit would be the first place that they had met. The iron worked letters had rusted somewhat in the months that she had been absent, but Arkham Asylum was much the same as it had ever been. Ducking between the bars of the large iron fence, she made her way to the entrance. The doors of the dark building creaked as she opened them, as if the screams of its past residents had become lodged in the very wood. The halls were dark; the lights that had once illuminated them lay shattered on the ground. Scattered on the floor were papers and discarded uniforms, a grim testimony of the events that had caused its doors to shut forever. Expertly moving through the building Harley found herself standing in front of a room that she had visited many times before. The inside of the room was relatively unchanged; Mr. J had decorated the walls with his favorite catchphrase. The word HA was scribbled on almost every corner of the room. Tenderly she ran her hands over the words, knowing that even though the word represented laughter, rage and confusion had been the driving force here.

"So stupid, to think I thought I was curing him. All I did was cause more pain"

Tears ran slowly down her face as she examined the room further, an old cot, now abandoned lay in the far corner. Sheets eaten through by the animals that now called Arkham home draped the bed like clothes on a corpse. And there, lying forgotten on the floor was a tiny stuffed kitten, the gift she had once given to Mr. J. At the time she had foolishly believed that it might offer him comfort during his lonely nights in this cell. An ear and one of the tiny button eyes were gone but the kitten was in decent shape considering the surroundings. Tucking the stuffed animal into a pocket, Harley took one last moment to relish in the phantom presence of her memories before softly closing the door.

Mr. J

What was she doing here? The joker frowned and examined the building that had once served as his cage. Other than the caution tape wrapped around the exterior not much had changed, Harleys bike lay discarded beside the iron wrought gates. Grumbling, he made his way into the building. The smell was the first thing to hit him, although it was dulled from the months that it had been abandoned, the sickly sweet smell of sweat, medicine and fear permeated the air. He hissed in annoyance, this godforsaken building was one he had hoped never to return to. He strode down the empty halls purposefully; where was she?

Harley

The door to the examination room was wedged nearly shut by an old medical desk, but Harley found that if she sucked in she could just barely squeeze through. The room was in much worse shape than Mr. J's room had been, the examination table now lay on its side, the cushioned bed cracking and ripped from age and lack of care. Glass littered the floor in large chunks and a stain that she suspected was blood marred the once pristine linoleum floor. The various machines that they had used for the various treatments had been ripped apart by looters; anything deemed unvaluable had been heaped into a pile and discarded on the floor. And there, hanging on their hook, as if unaware of its surroundings sat the paddles that had once caused so much pain. She walked towards them, mesmerized, when suddenly a large piece of debris clattered to the floor behind her. The large shadow that she had missed before now stood and spoke

"Lady? Pretty lady, not spose'd to be here, home my home NOT ALLOWED"

The shadow lunged forward and Harley ducked quickly to the side to avoid being tackled. As the shadow moved forward into the light, Harley realized she had seen him before. Working at an asylum you ran into every sort of person you could imagine, but there were always a few that stood out. Rory Hanes had been one of those few, apprehended by the Bat himself Rory had killed over fifty people during his time on the streets of Gotham. At seven feet tall, Rory was built like a tank but he had the mind of a child. A volatile temper combined with his size made him a force to be reckoned with but the Bat had subdued him just the same. After Arkham had been abandoned, the inmates had been relocated to a secure facility. Apparently, Rory had somehow escaped before the transfer had happened. A ragged inmate uniform hung uselessly over thick weathered skin, and scars from years on the streets of Gotham peeked out from underneath the holes in his shirt. Unfocused brown eyes, glared at her from behind heavy lids and a smile made of mismatched teeth peeked from behind a filthy beard. His size although daunting did not worry her as much as the large rusty pipe he held in his hands, one end of which had been sheared off leaving jagged edges.

"Pretty lady play? Play with Rory! Play! Lady play with Rory!"

"Sorry hun, I'm gonna hafta pass on this one." Harley had seen his files and knew that Rory's idea of playtime didn't involve anything good.

The beasts furry brows bunched in confusion,

"No play? RORY WANTS TO PLAY"

Apparently angered by her lack of cooperation, he lunged again, this time swinging his makeshift weapon down hard. Again she dodged, wind whistling past her ear as the pipe swung down. Desperately she scanned the room, looking for a way out. She growled in frustration realizing her way out was blocked by the medical desk. Rory roared and swung his pipe down again, and again. Jumping back to avoid each swing she soon found herself backed against the wall. Rory leered down at her as he approached, one hand reached for her throat as he slowly stumbled closer. Her gaze darted around, searching for a solution, her eyes paused on the large glass shards that littered the floor. Quickly, just as Rory reached her, she grasped one of the shards firmly in her hands. The brute grabbed her about the throat with one hand and lifted her off the ground, the other held the jagged edge of the pipe firmly against her abdomen. Growling, she kicked out with all her strength. It wasn't enough to push the lumbering brute over but he stumbled back and loosened his grip around her throat. Seeing her chance Harley leapt forward and slashed upward with the shard of glass. Rory's throat exploded in a burst of red, and Harley, entranced by the rush of crimson failed to see Rory stab forward with his last bit of strength. The jagged edges of the pipe pierced her just above her right breast and sent her, screaming in pain and anger, backwards, her head slamming hard against the wall. Rory's eyes laughed at her as he gargled once more and fell silent. Her vision blurring, Harley's last thought before passing out was of the Joker.

Mr.J

He had been wandering the abandoned halls for what felt like hours when a loud crash sounded from behind him. Lost in thought as he wandered, he had missed the door the first time, the large medical desk blocking the entrance from his view. He approached the door cautiously, very aware of the fact that her first instinct might be to attack him. It wasn't until he heard the gurgle that he knew something was wrong, it was not a sound someone made in a normal situation.

"Harley?"

There was no answer. Ignoring the bolt of unease running through him he pushed hard on the heavy desk until he was able to squeeze through. He called again

"Harley?"

It was quiet, but when he turned and saw her slumped, speared by a pipe and unmoving against the wall, the roar that ran through his brain and out his lips was deafening in the silence. She was too still, and it terrified him. He crouched and placed his hands on either side of her face, which thankfully was still warm.

"Harley, wake up. I need you to wake up honey."

He said it sternly, not asking but telling her to open her eyes. He refused to allow himself to panic, he could see that she breathed but seeing her so still was so wrong to him. She had never been good at staying still, always alive with energy she had buzzed around him like an annoying fly. He took a shuddering breath and shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. He needed to get her out of here, but he was afraid if he moved her he would cause more harm than good. He turned and surveyed the room, his eyes pausing on the body of her attacker. He snorted, the oaf had made a fatal mistake in messing with Harley. Stepping over the second body of the night he looked for a solution. It was there, in the furthest corner of the room, that he found it, a half empty jug of water. He moved quickly back to her side and uncapped the jug

"Alright baby, you've slept long enough, I need you to come back to me"

He splashed the water on her face.

Harley

Her eyes flung open and she was moving, her hands shooting forward and pushing her attacker away. Her shoulder screamed in pain, and she fell to her knees groaning. She heard, rather than saw her attacker move to her side.

"Stay away from me!"

But the eyes she met were not the ones she expected,

"Mr… Mr. J? What, I don't understand… why are you here?"

To her horror her eyes began to fill with tears, she hated crying in front of him. She raised her arm to wipe the tears away and nearly fell over when another wave of pain shook her. Hands steadied her and she looked up to find his face inches from her.

"Careful, doctor. Y'know before you wrestle with someone, you should really check for weapons."

She gaped at him. Not two hours before, this man had all but shattered her heart and now, he had the audacity to stand before her and crack jokes. Furious, she braced herself and pushed away from him. She met his eyes and watched as the realization of what she was about to do filled his eyes

"Harley no! Don't!"

Never breaking eye contact she gritted her teeth and ripped the pipe from her shoulder and tossed it at his feet.

Both

The pipe, damp with her blood, clattered to the floor in front of him. Tears streamed from her eyes and she swayed dangerously. But she did not fall and instead pinned him to the spot with her furious eyes

"I'm fine; you don't need to be here."

Her arm hung useless at her side and her blouse was torn and covered in dirt and blood. Blond hair cascaded down her shoulders and seemed to swirl around her in anger. But even injured and exhausted she managed to glare at him with eyes that blazed blue fire. His chest tightened again as it had on the road before. He growled in irritation

"Yes, I can see that. You're practically brimming with health, but seeing as I'm already here I might as well lend a hand."

Her eyes hardened and she practically hissed at him

"Do what you like; I'm going home"

Clutching her injured shoulder, she moved and strode to the door, inspecting the metal desk that blocked the exit. Her injury wouldn't allow her to exit the room easily, the tight squeeze would only aggravate the wound more. Fighting the urge to stamp her feet in frustration, she glanced over her shoulder to where the joker stood. He leaned against the wall; arms crossed in front of him and watched her in mild amusement.

"What's the matter Mistah J?" she purred "Is the big bad prince of Gotham afraid to get his hands dirty?"

He scowled and strode towards her angrily

"I'd be careful if I were you, remember baby, without me you're stuck here"

She scoffed but remained silent; satisfied he turned to the large desk

"It's going to take the both of us to move this. Can you manage with your shoulder?"

"Oh don't you worry about me, I can handle myself"

"Fine, on 3 we push. You ready?"

"Always"

He ignored her, and braced himself against the desk, Harley mirrored him placing her uninjured shoulder next to his

"One… Two… THREE"

Grunting they pushed together, the metal of the desk squealing horribly as it moved across the linoleum floor. With the gap now wide enough to fit through the two slumped against the desk, both breathing raggedly. He recovered first, and stood smoothly before turning and offering Harley his hand. She ignored it and stood although not as elegantly as he had.

"There, we're out. You're free to leave. I can handle myself from here." And with that she turned and made her way towards the exit.

He watched her go with narrowed eyes.

"Irritating, pain in my ass…"

It would be so easy to just slip away and leave her to find her own way home. Cursing he remembered the bike; she wouldn't be able to drive with her injured shoulder. Maybe he truly had lost the last remaining bits of his sanity; a year ago he would have left her behind and not lost a wink of sleep. But now? Sighing, he followed after her.

Outside he found her sitting beside the bike, her head resting on her knees. He sat down in the gravel beside her.

"Rough night?"

She chuckled, but to the joker it sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Why are you here? You made yourself pretty clear how you felt, so why?"

He paused and ran a hand through his hair

"I don't know. Boredom maybe?" he stood agitated and paced in front of her "Shit, Harley! I don't know what it is about you but you drive me even crazier than I normally feel! You irritate the hell out of me half the time, but for whatever reason it feels wrong when you aren't with me. When you stopped me on that road, I was so angry with you for making me feel so weak, so exposed to emotions that I have never wanted to feel. I wanted you to hurt, so I didn't hold back, I didn't care that I was breaking your heart! I practically rule this town! I shouldn't care how one woman felt but then you looked at me with those goddamn eyes of yours and sped off! And I found myself standing alone, my guts twisting around inside of me while a dead trucker slowly bled around my feet. So I followed you."

She had remained silent throughout his speech, but inside, her heart was singing. She wasn't sure if it was a concussion that was making her head feel fuzzy or if his words had simply stolen her ability to form a coherent thought.

Turning towards her, he offered his hand and pulled her to her feet.

"I'll take you home. Need to take a look at that shoulder."

Harley turned and placed a small kiss on his cheek

"Thank you."

The Joker merely nodded

…

Well that's the first segment, I would love to know what you guys think! I don't think i've ever tried writing with characters as complex as these two, but hopefully I did a decent enough job. The joker in this series is going to be a lot softer towards Harley than you comic book fans might be used too. Please remember that I am writing this off the movie Suicide Squad and how he was portrayed by Jared Leto. Hopefully I'll be able to have the next section up by the end of the weekend! Thanks again for reading! ~A