Their hideout was nothing special. Never the less, Harley would always do her best to spruce the place up. The two of them would often have to move to different places all over Gotham. Currently, her Puddin' had set up shop in an abandoned warehouse in the Falcone shipping yard. After all, there were only so many abandoned candy factories and joke shops in Gotham City, and Harley was sure they had used them all.

Harley wondered where Mistah J could go when the Bat-freak inevitably found this place. She shook her head and continued to spray paint smiley faces on the walls. Joker always told her that she shouldn't think too much. It wasn't her place, and her Puddin' was always right. Harley sighed and thought of the life they could have when he finally kills Batman. They would finally get married, burn Gotham to the ground on their honeymoon, and then have a dozen kids, and then they would grow old together. Harley lazily sprayed a few hearts on the wall with 'Joker and Harley 4 eva' inside each.

Harley smiled and stepped back to view her handiwork. Deciding that it was perfect, she skipped over to their bed and placed a few dead flowers around the bed frame.

She glanced over to Joker, who was on the other side of the room and hunched over a chemistry set concocting a new batch of laughing gas. He was facing away from her, engrossed in his work. Harley felt her heart flutter as she looked over Joker's purple-pinstripe clad body, her eyes stopping briefly at the clown's narrow backside. Harley knew for a fact that although he had a tall and slender build, every ounce of him was lean muscle. Harley felt herself getting hot thinking about his pale body that was almost completely calloused and covered with scar tissue.

Harley grinned deviously as an idea popped in her head. Silently, she slipped out of her costume, revealing the lacy black and red lingerie she had on underneath. She gave herself a quick once over and smirked. The bra and thong she had on certainly didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Hey Puddin'."

To anyone else, the lust that dripped from Harley's voice would have been obvious. If it had been anyone else, they would have pounced on her and they would have fucked like there was no tomorrow. To the Joker though, it was only a distraction. The Clown Prince of Crime groaned in annoyance.

"What is it, Harley? Can't you see I'm working? How many times do I need to tell you not to bother me when I'm working?"

Joker had not even bothered to turn around.

Harley crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. She was going to need to pull out the big guns. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She sauntered over to Joker, rhythmically swaying her hips as she walked. She turned and leaned over his workbench, giving the clown a full view of her chest. Joker laughed, not giving Harley a second glance.

"C'mon, Mistah J," she begged, "don't you wanna ride on your Harley?"

Joker giggled and placed the test tube he was holding back down on his desk. He turned and flashed Harley an impossibly wide smile, and Harley's heart swelled. For a moment, she thought they were finally going to get it on.

"Well Harley," the clown began, "Today I'm feeling a little bit generous, so I'll give you one last warning. Get away from me, or I might just test my brand new toxin on you."

Joker pushed Harley out of his way, and he chuckled as she fell in a heap on the floor. Harley stood up and dusted herself off. She was never one to give up easily. She had one last card up her sleeve. She considered her butt to be her greatest asset, and it was time to put her ass to work. She slipped off her thong and turned so her back was facing Joker.

"Hey Puddin', did you drop something around here?"

Harley bent at the waist and pretended to look around the floor. She gave Joker a full view of her butt and her womanhood, and did little shake for good measure. She spread her legs a bit and ran her hand up her thigh, while pretending to be oblivious to what she was doing.

Joker began to laugh maniacally. He stopped what he was doing and looked up to Harley. Joker continued to laugh as he purposefully walked over to Harley. He ran his hands over Harley's rear, and Harley shuddered at the sudden contact. Joker licked his lips and continued to giggle. He pushed himself on her, and Harley moaned as she felt him against her. Joker bent down further, and she felt his hot breath against her ear.

"Harley," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I warned you."

Harley felt her legs get swept from under her, and she fell onto the cold concrete floor. Joker grabbed the back of her head and yanked it upwards, and slammed her face back down to the floor. Joker laughed as he picked up her head up slammed it again, and again, and again. Joker stood up and walked in circles around Harley's body. Harley weakly tried to push herself up, the blood flowing freely from her broken nose. Joker stomped on Harley's back, forcing her down to the floor.

"Every day I have to remind you of your place with me," Joker halted his speech when a fit of giggles overcame him. He sighed and kicked Harley's ribcage. "How many times do I have to remind you before you understand?"

Joker emphasized his point with several more rib-breaking kicks. He grabbed Harley's shoulders and turned her over. He dropped to one knee and wrapped his long fingers around her throat. He leaned in close to Harley's face.

"Do you want to know something funny? No matter how much I hurt you, beat you, rape you, leaving you bleeding in an ally or rotting in a cell," Joker paused to lick the blood from Harley's face, "you keep coming back for more. Do you know why?"

Harley knew it was wrong. She knew the way he treated her was horrible. But why does the pain, both emotional and physical, feel so damn good? Why did she like it when he hurt her? Why did she enjoy getting brutalized and tortured every day?

She stared into his bloodshot green eyes, and her breath got caught in her throat.

"Why?"

"Because I own you. Ever since you sauntered into Arkham with your red shoes and the degree you earned on your back, you have been mine."

Joker took her by the neck and hoisted her up on her feet.

"Now run along," he said, "Your Uncle J has got some work to do, and I'm sure The Bat isn't going to kill himself." Joker pushed Harley to the ground and turned back to his workbench, giggling at the thought of Batman offing himself.

Harley stood up and brushed herself off, desperately trying to hold back tears. She cried in front of Joker only once before, and the resulting beating made this one look like nothing.

She weakly limped away, back to the bed. She let her tears fall freely when she realized something.

He was right.