This is my first story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any of its characters that I borrowed for the purpose of being in my story. I do, however, own the plot. There is abuse, don't read if you're uncomfortable with that.

Summary: Harley was always a prisoner. Her love for the Joker, the bars that kept her trapped. He was like an addiction. She couldn't give him up. Because no matter how much pain he caused her, the few moments of pleasure were always worth it.

"Puddin', someone's here claimin' they know ya and claimin' they could be a great asset to ya. And I was just wonderin' if ya thought they was useful to ya or not, and if not, whether ya wanted me to get rid of them now or later…" Harley shuffled her feet as she spoke, knowing that she was interrupting an important meeting of the Joker's with some very very influential clients.

From the other side of the thick door, the Joker's deep voice boomed loud, clear, and thick with irritation. "Harley, I would have assumed by now that you knew not to interrupt me with such trivial matters. If I needed them, they'd be in this room with me, wouldn't they? No need to answer because you know I'm right. We'll discuss this later."

The Joker spoke with such an air of finality in his voice that Harley wasn't able to muster enough courage in her heart to argue back. And even though she just wanted to be helpful and assist Puddin' in whatever he did, in fact, her every breath was for him, she just knew that she was going to get it tonight.

She fell to the ground as another slap registered itself across her face. Her cheek along with the rest of her body burning, Harley could only watch helplessly as the Joker quickly closed the distance between them. He grabbed her by her hair, quickly and effectively pulling Harley off of the ground.

"What is the matter with you?" He emphasized the question with a blunt punch to her cheekbone. And as her hands flew up to cradle her rapidly swelling jaw, he continued.

"We've been over this more times than I care to remember and yet you still make careless mistakes like this?" He followed this with a sharp right hook to her stomach, and she folded over and fell down, forced to her knees with pain. He gave a swift kick to her stomach as if to emphasize his point again. She recoiled from the force of the impact, coughed up a bit of blood, and curled into a ball in a desperate attempt to ease the blinding and searing pain. Tears began leaking from the corners of her eyes before she could stop them, and before she knew what was happening to herself, she was full-on bawling her eyes out. The Joker looked at Harley with unimaginable rage held in the depths of his eyes. She cringed and folded into herself as his anger seemed to grow with each passing moment. He locked eyes with her, daring her to look away as he continued his tirade.

He huffed and continued screaming at her, "I thought I trained you better than this! I thought," he growled at this, as though the mere word had just finished clawing and fighting its way out of his throat. He carried on, a prominent and sharp edge to his voice, "I thought I had a competent assistant. Maybe," he gritted out. "Maybe it's time I start looking elsewhere for help. Maybe you just don't have what it takes." The Joker leered down at Harley's crumpled and sobbing form as she collapsed back on the floor, exhausted from trying to get back on her feet. Suddenly, his words registered themselves in her mind.

"No! Please!" Harley screeched. "Mistah Jay!" She scrambled across the floor in a fit of panic and gathered enough wits to crawl across the ground and attach herself to his leg. "Mistah Jay, ya know me! I can do better! Ya just gotta give me another chance!" Harley stared up at him through tear-filled lashes. "I won't do it again! I promise! I was stupid! I am stupid. Ya know that. But ya still take care of me. I love ya. I won't disappoint ya again…" She pleaded and begged with almost every ounce she had left in her. His words had stung her almost as much as his blows had.

Truth be told, he had actually let her off easy tonight. She could remember much worse times. In fact, one time he had gotten so angry at her, it was over something so trivial, (the smallest accidents set him off) so miniscule that she couldn't even recall what she had done to deserve it. He had been so mad at whatever she had done, that he had severely beaten her. He had beaten her to the point where she was forced to be bedridden for almost an entire month. And it took an additional two months just to be able to build back up the strength to join and fight alongside the Joker again. He always seemed to find the strangest things to punish her for. Harley never knew whether or not her next move would piss him off. Sure she always had Ivy there for her if things ever got too bad, but it just wasn't the same when she wasn't with Mistah Jay.

"Please Puddin'!" She begged again.

The only thing she ever wanted was for him to love her. Because even though it didn't take much to get him angry, and he more often than not took this anger out on her, and he wasn't very caring in the first place, she still loved him. And looking at him now, running his hands through his hair, and looking almost sorry for what he did, it wasn't hard to see why.

He uttered a barely audible sigh and nodded her way and Harley leapt into his arms.

"Sorry." The Joker grunted.

The apology sounded fake and forced, even to her own ears, but the simple gesture was enough and she fell in love all over again with him. He was her Puddin' and that was good enough for Harley. He may not say or show it, but somewhere deep inside, Harley knew that he loved her. After all, she was hopelessly in love with him.

It had to be the same for the Joker.

It just had to be.