Hello! I've had this idea for a while and started writing the story about a month ago. I'm not sure where this site stands in regards to JokerxOC stories. I know there are some people who can't see past JokerxHarley and then there are some who can't stand it. I like to think I'm delightfully Switzerland because I enjoy reading about the Joker no matter who he's with. I love him and Harley together but at the same time I like to experiment as well. He's just so fascinating to me and I especially liked the way Suicide Squad portrayed him. The only thing I didn't like was how little he was actually in the movie, but I get why he wasn't. I've decided to make this story a little behind the scenes of what he did to get Harley back. It's going to follow the basic plot of the story but will probably deviate quite a bit to suite my story's needs (the timeline of the movie, for example). And to avoid any confusion, I'm only going to base facts around what we know from the movie itself. I won't take anything from the comics (purposefully, anyway).
If it wasn't already obvious, this is a JokerxOC story. It's going to be told from the point of view of my own character but JokerxHarley will still be there, just not in the beginning. As with any relationship with the Joker, things will get a bit toxic as the story progresses. It's not intended to be a full-fledged romance even though it's tagged as such. There is romance involved but not in the traditional sense of the word. If you don't like JokerxOC stories, I ask that you not point that out in the reviews if you wish to leave one. I'm always willing to accept constructive criticism or positive feedback but something like, 'I was going to read this until I saw it was JokerxOC...' is really not necessary. I'm not trying to be mean because I get that people like what they like, but if it doesn't contribute to the story at all I just ask that you please keep it to yourself. I hope you understand.
To anyone else who reads this, I hope you like it! This is only the beginning :)
1. PROLOGUE
She eyed her surroundings warily, being mindful of the dancing bodies that writhed and swayed on either side of her as she passed by. She excused herself between a few people, squinting through the flashing lights that struck a painful nerve behind her eyes. She hated loud, crowded places. They always gave her a headache and made her feel like she couldn't think. Ironically enough that was probably how most of the people on the dance floor felt at that very moment, though at the expense of large quantities of alcohol rather than mild annoyance.
Even though she didn't enjoy being there and didn't plan on participating in any sort of dancing she still felt immensely under-dressed. Everyone around her was clad in exotic dresses or crisp dress shirts. The club had always been a bit too high end for her and she hated that this couldn't take place someplace more discreet and quiet.
A wall of sparkling beads caught her attention once she made it through the far end of the dance floor. Her nerves caused her stomach to coil and flutter unpleasantly as she made her way towards them. A few guards dressed in black suits lingered nearby and once she was spotted, they straightened their frames warningly and advanced on her. She stopped short a few paces away.
"What's your business here, lady?" one of the men asked.
Her jaw clenched as she spoke the requested words, feeling nothing short of ridiculous: "I'm here to see the Prince."
"Name?" the guard next to the first grunted.
She gave it to him and with a few exchanged murmurs they moved aside to let her through. Her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek as she pulled the beads aside, hearing the delicate clings and clangs as they fell together behind her. The music was less deafening in this section of the club which was usually reserved for private parties and VIPs. She still felt the vibrating pulses of the base in her gut, though that could have also been her steadily rising heartbeat as she stepped around a few stranded booths. In the back of the room sat an L-shaped booth with a dangling chandelier and a glass table reserved for only one person who was unfortunately her point of interest for the evening.
He sat on one end of the booth, hands resting casually on the head of a cane as he talked with a man fleetingly familiar across the table. He was always dressed so pristine; white dress shirt without a wrinkle in place unbuttoned low to expose a pale yet decorative torso, wrists clad in various bracelets next to a Rolex watch and fingers equally bejeweled with dazzling rings. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable colors of the laughing mouth on his left hand that seemed to smirk every time his tendons flexed. His infamous green hair was slicked back neatly to his scalp and she stared at it for a moment. It was a clear reminder of who she was dealing with and a warning to keep her composure because he most certainly would not. The holster strapped to his torso with two intricate revolvers resting against each side of his ribcage flashed like a promise in the low light.
Swallowing thickly, she let out a slow breath before taking the final handful of steps towards the booth. The man sitting across from her company noticed her first and their conversation ceased. The green head of hair turned to face her, exposing a large mouth of metal and squinting blue eyes surrounded by black.
"Pennywise," he smirked slowly, voice thick and gravely as he enunciated the name just enough to grate on her nerves. "What a pleasant surprise. It's been a while."
She smiled tightly, her lips twitching. "Please don't call me that."
A look of mock surprise flashed across his pale face. "It's your name, isn't it?"
"My name is Penelope Weiss," she sighed. As annoyed as the dreadful nickname made her (because he certainly wasn't the first to call her it—her peers in school were never very clever) she didn't let it show because she knew better than that. "Pronounced wice, not wise."
"Devil's in the details, Pennywise," he grinned sharply, obviously not listening, before opening his arms with a tilt of his head. She didn't miss the madness that flashed in his eyes as he pouted at her. "Don't I get a hello?"
Penny licked her lips. "Hi, Mister J. Nice to see you."
"Likewise, dollface," he motioned towards the open spot next to the man she recognized but couldn't remember the name of. "Slide in next to my good man Frost and we'll get this show on the road."
Frost. He was Mister J's right hand man. He'd been there last time. She gave the man a quick smile, one that was less forced than the one she'd given Mister J, and took a seat in the booth a respectable distance away from the man even though he scooted over to give her room. Unfortunately this meant she was now sitting directly across from Gotham's very own Clown Prince and she shifted uncomfortably under his alarmingly intense stare. Despite the absurdity of the name, he lived up to it well. He was something of a clown, keen on laughing at the misfortune of others or at the expense of his own twisted imagination. His reputation preceded him; he was also Gotham's public enemy number one but was almost always impossible to find, and yet here he was sitting in plain sight.
Mister J leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
"So, Pennywise," he started, tapping his fingers in rhythm with the base on the surface. "You're a smart girl, aren't you?" he asked, pronouncing the word 'smart' in a funny way like he was mocking her. "You know all kinds of interesting stuff about fun things, don'tcha? 'Cause see, I need your help," he admitted. The word 'help' was spoken the same way. "After all, I did help you once."
"Inadvertently," she countered. She knew he'd use this against her. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.
"Irrelevant," he shot back. "You owe me. I scratched your back and now you scratch mine. That's the fundamentals of friendship, Pennywise, didn'tcha know?" his eyes squinted as he grinned, wrinkling the J tattooed underneath his left eye.
Penny bit her tongue. It would do more harm than good to argue with him and frankly she wasn't sure she had the nerve to try.
"What do you need help with?"
Mister J's eyes narrowed, his eyes darkening as his jaw locked. "I want my Queen back."
Penny tried to not let the look make her squirm. "She's locked up in Belle Reve. You know this," she said as delicately as she could muster. "There's nothing I can do."
"Oh but there is," he lifted a theatrical finger before pointing it at her. "See, I happen to know that those stiffs are planning something. And I wanna get her outta there before she gets caught in the crossfire. What better way to do that than to have eyes and ears on the inside?"
Penny shook her head slowly. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. In retrospect there weren't very many things she could do that he couldn't. She should have expected something like this but hearing it out loud made it so much more real.
"I could lose my job… I could get thrown into prison with her if I helped you," Penny stressed, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not as high on the totem pole as you may think I am. I work leagues beneath the guys who put her there. I don't know what you think I can do but I'm certain I can't do that."
Mister J placed his hands on the table and slowly pushed himself up until he was standing over the booth.
"You can and you will," he stated, voice trembling dangerously as he loomed over her. His long, wiry frame cast an ominous shadow over the table and across part of her face. Despite his tall, slim build she could see the muscles hidden beneath his tight shirt. She could hear the blood pulsing in her eardrums as she stared up at him and she squeezed her hands together tightly in her lap, nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin as she subtly leaned back to further the distance between them. "You won't get caught. And if someone does catch you, I have people who can mop up the mess. You'll get to keep your waste of a job and I'll get my Queen back. It's a win-win," his blue eyes glinted. "All you need to do is give me names."
Penny gazed up at him for a moment. She'd never been in this situation before. No one had ever come to her asking for help that she didn't think she could legally provide. She had no experience in this. Bargaining. Especially bargaining with the Joker. She may as well try to reason with the Devil.
"So that's your plan, huh?" she asked. There was a hint of contempt in her voice but for the most part she just ended up sounding small and not even the least bit intimidating. "Threaten me into helping you?"
"I tried asking but that didn't work out so well," he drawled.
"You never actually asked," Penny scowled, though it was light. The features on his face had hardened to such a degree that she just wanted to disappear under the table.
Mister J tilted his head, eyes wide. "If I had asked nicely would that have catered more to your delicate sensibility?" when Penny didn't say anything Mister J rolled his head, "See, that's why I cut straight to the chase."
Penny had the slight sense that this wasn't going to work in her favor.
"What's in it for me exactly?" she asked, daring to glance up at him again.
"You get to keep your spleen. I heard that's important," Penny gave him an astounded look, mouth hanging open a bit. Her blood felt like it turned to ice inside her veins. He grinned again before lifting a hand, "So it's either you help me," he lifted the other hand, "or you die. It's a better deal than most people get. Usually it's help me and then you die," he pointed at her. "I'm making this one special just for you."
"I'm flattered," Penny remarked weakly, voice cracking. She almost felt like she wanted to cry at the open threat of having one of her organs removed and the imminent possibility of death but instead her eyes remained startlingly dry. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and exhaled slowly. It was either her job or her life and she wasn't petty. "Look," she started and he gradually sat back down. "She's been trying to pawn off this idea on government officials for months now and they've not let up."
"She?" Frost interjected, startling Penny. She'd completely forgotten he was there.
"Amanda Waller," she answered and Frost nodded in recognition. Mister J gave him an expectant stare.
"She's a high-ranking intelligence operative for the US government," Frost explained. For a moment Penny was concerned about how he knew that but the woman wasn't exactly hidden from the eyes of the media.
Mister J made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded like a curious hum.
"Right," she agreed, feeling uneasy. "She's had this idea for an organization called Task Force X. The only reason I know about it is because she's pitched it to officials several times always to be shot down. From my understanding, they would use incarcerated criminals to take part in covert missions set out by the US government and in return they'd get a lower prison sentence. I don't know the details," Penny shook her head, "but I'm pretty sure Harley Quinn is one of her picks if they decide to go through with it. They want the worst of the worst. It's probably why she was transferred from Arkham."
Mister J ran his pointer finger along his bottom lip in contemplation.
"Do you know when Waller plans to run it by them again?" Frost spoke for Mister J when he didn't immediately say anything.
Penny gave him a steady look. "I'm pretty sure she tried again today."
"And if they relent?"
"I don't know," Penny emphasized again. "I'm not in the loop. I don't even know if they have a set mission yet. All I know is she's determined to make it happen and apparently she has a secret weapon."
Mister J clicked his tongue. "Which is?"
"I don't know."
Frost opened his mouth to say something but Mister J held up a hand to stop him.
"It's alright," he assured thickly, though Penny was almost certain Frost wasn't going to say anything against her. "She's been a good sport."
He rested his chin in his hands as he stared vacantly at the table, letting the details of Penny's information simmer. She could almost see the cranks turning in his head as he devised some sort of strategy or plan, one that most likely wouldn't bode well for the other parties involved.
Penny didn't quite believe the reports that said the Joker was certifiably insane. She knew he did it before. Claimed the insanity defense. That's why instead of immediately being put in line for death row, he was instead transferred to one of the world's most renowned psychiatric hospitals and admitted as a patient. She'd never been unfortunate enough to visit the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane but she'd met a few people who had and even just visiting for academic purposes a few hours out of the day they never left the same. Penny didn't know what kind of person the Joker was before being admitted but knowing that he'd spent months locked in a straight jacket said a lot about his character. Anyone else would've cracked under the pressure, the confinement. But maybe he'd already cracked before the padded cell so that, in a way, was what kept his mentality in check.
She didn't pretend to know anything about the man in front of her but judging by the way he talked, the way he moved… no. She didn't believe he was insane at all because in order to be criminally insane, one has to have absolutely no control over their actions, sometimes going as far as to forget the things they did even happened. Penny was sure he was fully aware of all the crimes he committed and knew exactly what he was doing. Even the most notorious killers have some of the brightest minds.
If anything, that made them scarier.
"Do you think it's a good idea?" Mister J's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
Penny blinked over at him. "What?"
"This," he waved his hand about, his rings flashing under the chandelier, "Task Force X. You think it's a good idea?"
"Um," she shifted a bit in her seat. She'd never really thought about it before. Mister J watched her carefully, shoulders swaying slightly even though there currently wasn't a song playing. "Probably not. I think it'd be too easy to get out of hand."
"But a lower prison sentence," he announced vibrantly, waving his arms about. A waiter passing by their booth flinched, nearly dropping the flutes of champagne on his platter. "What if I never get her outta there? I'd be able to see her sooner. We all want that, don't we?"
Penny felt like she was being backed into a corner. Anything she said at this point would be wrong. Mister J gave a slow laugh at the conflicted look on her face, the sound causing a chill to race down her spine.
"I'm just messin' with ya, Pennywise. I'll get her outta there alright," he nodded, licking his lips. He pulled something out of his sleeve and the color drained from Penny's cheeks when she realized it was a knife, "even if I have to carve every single person who stands in my way…" the blade glinted, flashing in Penny's eyes and she recoiled. Mister J laughed again. "You're free to go, dollface," he winked. "You've been a big help. I'll call ya when I need ya."
Penny slid ungracefully out of the booth, the Joker's hysteric cackles following her all the way out.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?