Chapter 2- Harlequin without a Joker
a/n: This was only going to be a oneshot, but the story nagged me to continue so I did...lol. I would like to stress that this story is a HarleyxJoker story not a BatmanxJoker story. There is one sided JokerxBatman story line that will occur, but the main pairing is still Harley and Joker. I also increased the rating to M because of violence.
Harley intertwined her body into the multiple blankets around her, so only her full lips were visible to suck in deep cleansing breaths of cold air. She kept her eyes closed and focused on the heat from both her body and the fluffy fabric protecting her. If felt like her personal shield from the harsh realities of the world…like-like her Puddin loving Batman. She winced and rolled her body to the side on the couch twisting the blankets into more of a cocoon. She would just stay like this forever. The blinds were closed keeping the happy sunlight out and letting her mop in her own sadness. She could handle life without the Joker.
She could handle never having his hand around her waist, and the whisper of a secret plan against her ear. She could handle never hearing that carefree laugh he gave her when she did something silly.
She felt tears settling in her eyes.
Never being able to set up explosives then point out all the different shapes she saw in the fire to him.
She felt a stream of wetness glide down her cheek.
Never talking about her ideas and dreams as she laid on his chest.
Another tear escaped.
She could handle never being with him…
She let out a whimper then shook her head forcefully. She needed to stop crying! She buried deeper into the cocoon and her protection.
"Damn it Harley! I have had enough of this," a woman smooth voice shouted as a door slammed shut. She heard bare feet storming across the wooden floorboards and then a swish of movement from behind her. Light cascaded in as the blinds were yanked to the side of the windows. Harley let out a pitiful squeak before rolling her already covered blanket eyes to the protection of the cushions.
"You're killing my plants, Harl," the woman growled walking across the room to open all of the blinds.
Harley didn't respond. She was too emotionally exhausted to even move. She finally heard the bare feet walking towards her and her cocoon. "Harley get up," the voice ordered.
She let out a groan mumble in protest as she shook her head underneath the blankets.
"Get up now," the voice ordered again.
When Harley still didn't move, she felt something grip tightly onto her blankets and yank. Before she knew what was happening all the blankets pulled her in one direction spinning her counter clockwise. The next thing she knew she was no longer on the couch, but falling blanketlessly to the ground. Now Harley could have caught herself and pushed her body up into a back flip where she would land sternly on her feet, but the exhaustion held her back. Instead her face and chest planted with the floor. She saw a barefoot tapping impatiently as she let out a groan. "Red," she said tiredly, "I don't want to get up."
"No," she growled. A hand reached down and grabbed her forearm pulling her off the ground. Harley's eyes lazily swept the floor board, the walls layered with potted plants and giant windows, the semi empty living area except for the other couch and table, until finally landing at piercing angry light green eyes. "Harley, you've been on that couch welting away for the past three weeks. Enough is enough," she stated not letting go of her arm until she was sure Harley had enough support on her legs to stay standing.
Harley absently crossed her arms over her chest as her shoulders slumped over. "I've just lost the laugh for my smile," she said. Then smiled slightly at her little joke.
Red shook her long wavy locks in a tired sigh. "You left him. You shouldn't be acting like this," she reminded then let go of her arm turning away from her.
Harley didn't collapse without the strength; instead she stayed standing up in a defeated pose. "I know…but I left him because he choose him over me," she said sadly.
"I don't see why you're so surprise Harls," Red said waving her hand uncaringly as she walked over to the kitchen that was stuffed into the corner of the apartment. "The Joker's always been obsessed with Batman," she said opening up the fridge and pulling out a purple container.
Harley's shoulder slumped even more at that statement as she glanced over at the red head. She watched as Red turned to face her again. She was wearing her overly large dark green hemp sweater that was very very low cut. Harley knew Red never wore pants or short under the hemp sweater…she wasn't evens sure if she wore underwear. She was certain she didn't wear a bra, and was always quite amazed how Red was able to fight Batman without being in pain from it. But Red had always ranted on about her hatred of clothes and how they killed plants' lives for their horrid sense of fashion. The only reason she put up with the sweater was to attract less attention from the everyday citizens (Harley didn't think it helped much). However, Harley had gone on jobs before where Red went completely naked for the sake of being one with nature. Harley shook her head trying to shake away the image burned into her brain.
"Personally, I think you should have left him years ago," Red said pouring the beat juice into a glass then turned a cold glare onto Harley, "For the way he treated you."
She felt Red's focus on the yellow bruises along her skin, but most had faded. She had gotten in this debate with Red a few times now (actually hundreds of times), but she was never able to convince her friend. "When your henchmen make a mistake and the mistake causes hundreds of your precious flowers to die what do you do?" Harley said repeating her argument once again.
"Oh don't start this," Red pointed a long elegant finger at her to stop.
"You kill them," Harley said as her arms fell to her side, "Joker does the same thing when a mistake happens. Luckily I'm not punished as badly." She said with a smile.
"You're not his henchman," Red said shaking her head not liking the logic one bit, "You were his girlfriend, and some of the thing he beat you over had nothing to do with a plan."
Harley flinched at the word 'were' then quietly walked over to the stool at the counter of the kitchen. "It doesn't matter anyways," Harley said softly, her form slowly falling onto the stool. She leaned her elbows on the counter and buried her face into her hands.
She heard a tired sigh then felt a hand patting her head softly. "You need to stop doing this to yourself, Harley," her friend urged, "Your life is worth so much more then the Joker's so why do you waste it when you're finally free of him."
Harley's fingers pressed tighter into the roots of her hair trying to ignore the words. She knew Red was only trying to be a good friend, but it infuriated her. She wished Red could just be supportive instead of condescending. So what if she was acting like a dependent pathetic girl! Harley knew she was! She had all right to be! She just left the man she loved…probably the only man she would ever love. She didn't want to hear Red's words of advice. She just wanted bury herself back into her cocoon of blankets. Harley pressed her fingers even tighter feeling a slight tinge of pain. She had to change the subject. "Did you get rid of those men you were after?" she asked with as much effort to sound interested.
Red pulled her hand away from her hair, and Harley glanced up to see a malicious smile playing on those full red lips. "Yes, I filled the entire ventilation system with poison from my baby," she pointed lovingly to one of the flowers on the windowsill, "Everyone within Stockland's Development is hospitalized, and no inference from the Batman."
Harley's mouth slowly gape opened in awe. It had been months since Red had gone through with such a huge scheme. The name Poison Ivy was starting to fall from recognition, but that would certainly be changing. "Wow Red!" Harley said her shock expression turning on her world-renowned grin, "Are you celebrating?"
Red's big lips turned into a smirk as she lifted her glass up to suggest that this was her celebration. Harley's feature contorted into confusion, "That is not celebrating. A celebration requires booze and fireworks."
Red smiled as she glanced down at her glass. "No I've never liked either. I also have to go by the hospital and make sure there aren't any complications. I just came by to see how you are," she said then poured the remainder of her drink down her throat.
Harley frowned for a moment before tapping her fingers on the table. The little conversation had distracted her from her woos and now Red was leaving. She would be all alone to fall into miserable mourning again. "Harls," her voice made her look up from her hand, "You should get out…do something."
"Like what?" Harley asked tiredly as she watched Red walk out of the kitchen towards the door.
"I don't know...pick up groceries, we're running low. Organic only," Red stressed throwing her long light brown trench coat over her hemp sweater.
"Yeah, I could do that," Harley said with a nod. She then watched Red leave with a wave, and once again she was alone.
The Joker glared angrily down at the front page of the newspaper in his hand. A drawn exaggerated cartoon of him surrounded by men and women in formal wear with him looking innocent and stupid holding his hands in the air, taunted him on the front-page picture. His men were smart enough to be cowering away from him at that moment because if anyone of them were in reaching distance he would have stuffed this disgusting piece of literature filth down their wind pipe. He leaned an elbow on the table pushing his hand into his green hair as he chewed over all this. He was angry…that was an understatement, but he didn't know who he was most angry with.
Was he angrier with Mathew Keller for writing this ridiculous article?
Was he angry with his men for being utter incompetent fools?
Or…was he completely furious with Harley!
Yes, it definitely was Harley. If Harley had been in her respective position this whole incident wouldn't have occurred.
He had decided to interrupt the Wayne Fundraising Benefit for the Disable last night. It had been a few weeks since he had gotten a good laugh. He just couldn't find anything funny enough to laugh about. Life had started to grey together, and he couldn't put together a decent plan to attract Batman. He needed to laugh or find something funny in Gotham, and when he heard about the disable benefit he saw it as a sign.
What's funnier then a cripple anyways? (Riddles always got offended by that)
So he decided he would join in with all the elite's fun. It wouldn't even take that much effort. He had completely forgotten about the laughing gas supply he forced Johnny to make for him last year, but now he had a purpose for it.
To answer the question above: Cripples laughing hysterically as they face their worst fear and their mouths rip apart in a smile is funnier then just a cripple.
It was a perfect plan. Simple and easy…maybe he'd even get Batz attention.
So last night after killing hotel security, he slammed the double wide dark wooden doors open to large high ceiling room with elegant drapes along the window and tables filled with fancy dress elites all talking or eating calmly before turning into a silent shock.
"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen!" he shouted as he walked with seven of his men in clown mask. He licked his red lips walking to the nearest table to see what they have. "I heard about this um benefit and decided I wanted to help," he said causally as his hand rested on the back of a woman's chair. The dark brunette started hyperventilating, but managed to stay as still as statue. Her husband/boyfriend, he assumed, automatically stiffened in his chair shooting his hand a glare. He couldn't understand why people could be so rude when he was only curious of what they were having for dinner. Pork…not his favorite.
He turned away from the table hearing the girl let out a sigh of relief. "You see I have crippled friends. Riddles with his uh messed up," he waved at his leg, "thing, and Dent with only half his face. Well I'm not sure if having half your face burned makes you crippled. What do you think sweetheart?" he asked deeply grabbing the brunette from behind and holding tightly onto her jaw while his knife danced in front of her lips. He pulled her out of the flimsy chair hearing it collapse on the carpet. The girl in his hands was breathing hard and slightly struggling. Her husband had stood from his chair only to have a gun pointed at him.
The girl had yet to respond so he repeated, "I asked a question. Do you think having only half," he started the blade in the center of her forehead, "a face makes you cripple?" he slowly traced the blade down her nose and chin. He heard her whimpering which only caused his grin to stretch larger. She still hadn't responded. Are her vocal cords unable to connect to the outside air…well he could shorten the distance for her. "Not much of a talker ah?" he asked, "I can help with that." In a quick movement he pushed the blade across her throat feeling the blood trickle on his gloves as he let go of her dead weight. The husband shouted and moved to hit him, but a bullet already went through his chest.
He heard screams around him then a scared silence once again. He turned back to face his audience. "So like I was saying I wanted to help ya out. I know everyone here is giving money, but I don't really have money. So I thought, what do I have? And then it came to me," he stated his smile turning into that frightening red Cheshire grin, "I have laughs! Boys." He opened up his purple glove hand so one of them would hand him a laughing gas bomb and a mask.
…
His palm was empty. He glanced back with an annoyed look in his eyes. He never liked when his performances were halted. His men were all looking away from him in a guilty way. His lips turned into a scowl. "Where's the gas?" he said in a deep frustrated voice as he turned to face all of them with his knife. They all stood their silently fidgeting with their guns. Joker's fingers tightened around his blade. One of them better speak up or they all wouldn't be walking out of here.
"Boss," Kenny mumbled in a soft whisper.
Joker took three quick strides to shorten the distance between them. He saw Kenny gulp underneath his mask, "Uh Harley is the only one who know how to get into the storehouse of the early deadly weapons. We only know where the guns and other goods are…that's why Harley usually gets the stuff."
The Joker's eyes narrowed as his hand shook with anger. "What?" he snapped hoping he misheard this entire thing.
"Harl-"
"No, why the hell didn't you tell me this before?" he hissed lowly leaning in towards Kenny, his breath hitting across the mask.
"We…uh…we thought you knew," he said in a weak voice.
He did the only coherent thing in his mind at the moment. He slashed Kenny's throat opened. The dying boy's hand automatically went to his throat dropping his gun that the Joker immediately caught. He turned it to his men and shot each one clean and easily. After each shot there was a followed thump on the ground. After the six thump of dead body against carpet, Joker turned towards the door to make his exit. "Incompetent, ridiculous, can't do anything without my help," he mumbled then shouted back, "Enjoy your dinner!"
Just as his hands reached the door handle the double wide door was kicked opened knocking him and his gun to the ground. He groaned in annoyance as he saw the black cape crusader right in front of him.
"Batz, I'm not in the mood," he said, slowly pushing himself off the ground then dusted off his jacket.
He heard a growl (he must have seen the dead bodies). "I don't care about your mood," he said in that throaty voice and before the Joker could say something witty back a fist connected with his face knocking him to the ground again. Okay, he loved his playtime with Batz. He craved the attention. And while he was NOT gay, he did respect Batman in almost everything he did. He also always loved a good conversation with the man and loved the feel of his body on top of him as they fought over who was right. So normally the Batman swooping in to fight him would have been ideal, but like he said before, he was not in the mood. It was just like Batz to completely ignore him. The Joker cracked his jaw back into place before a hand grabbed the back of his collar yanking him off the ground. The only thing that could make this day worst was getting sent back to Arkham. "You really should learn to listen instead of using your fist. I hear you ah- can't solve problems with violence," he said reaching into his pocket feeling for the grenade. He grabbed it fast bringing it to his teeth and yanking the chain out. He then tossed it as far back as he could. As expected the Batman dropped him to 'save' the people while the Joker made his escape.
There must have been a reporter at the benefit because he went into detail over this whole event stressing how the Joker's plan failed miserably, how the Joker was obviously losing his edge, and how he would probably be caught soon if more plans turn out that way. The Joker let out a low growl crumpling the entire newspaper in his hand then tossing it onto the ground. It was all Harley's fault. His little Harlequin had decided to pick up and leave without a word, all after that conversation.
Gay?
He wasn't gay! He even told her so, yet she still left. Why did obsessing over a man make you gay? Yes, he would admit that would make him question things too, but Batman wasn't a man he was an idea just like the Joker was an idea. They both were above human cages…even though Bat's still liked his. He wasn't gay for having respect. But Harley left. Did she think he was gay? Was that why she left? He buried all those thoughts away like he had been doing for the past weeks. It didn't matter why she left. The problem was that she screwed him over in the process. She ruined his plans, and she would have to be punished for that. After the news reporter of course…
He stood up from the chair causing the few men in his apartment to flinch. He walked over to his bedroom door. If he was going to go out, he had to find matching socks. He had too. How the hell did Harley organize the dresser before she left? He opened up his bedroom to clothes scattered all over the floor mixed in with random knives and papers of future plans. He had never been this messy before Harley, yet for some reason since she left he couldn't keep himself together. He shook his head of that thought as well. If he were going to find matching socks in this mess, he would need help. "Bosco," he snapped then started on the annoying attempt of finding clothing.
She inhaled the smoke from the burning cigarette balancing on her red lips. She pulled the cigarette away letting a cloud of white slowly escape her mouth. She started smoking two years ago. Both her Puddin and Red hated cigarettes, and her psychiatrist knowledge told her she probably smoke in protest of those two dominant personalities in her life, but she didn't particularly care why she smoked. Either way it helped. She took another drag of the remainder of the cigarette before tossing it to the ground. She pressed out the ash with the toe of her black flat shoe before shifting her side bag on her shoulder. The sun was out today, and felt nice on her skin. She hadn't been out during the day for some time now. The red dress she wore was one of her favorites. It usually was the dress she wore when she went out with Puddin on one of his plans. It's why she felt slightly awkward not wearing her usual make up with it.
She pushed opened the door to the small grocery store. Her eyes naturally located the security camera above then the security window tucked into the western union booth to her left. It had become habit ever since a security guard had surprised them shooting her Joker in the back. She grabbed the plastic basket and started off to the vegetables. She had no idea what Red wanted, she just knew it tasted horrible. Instead of missing something that Red would yell at her later for Harley decided to grab anything green. Pulling plastic bag after plastic bag she filled them with green beans, broccoli, lettuce, something round and green, and well let's just throw that in as well. She looked down at her overflowing basket. She should have gotten a cart.
She saw the meat section and almost drooled. She missed her smoked steaks, but Red would kill her. She never understood why Red was a vegetarian since she stressed all the time that plants were living things. Harley thought it would be smarter to eat animals then instead of plants, but she wasn't there to judge. Red had to keep her figure somehow. Harley walked back to the front of the small grocery store. There were only two checkouts. She automatically went to the shorter line with a spring to her step. She felt normal, and a grin pulled on her face at that silly thought.
The old lady was taking her sweet time placing each item from her basket in front of the cashier who looked like an annoyed middle age woman. Harley tried not to let the slow pace bother her. She wasn't in a hurry anyways.
A loud crying screaming sound interrupted the silence of the grocery store. Harley turned to face the noise to see a little baby in the hands of her mother. The baby's eyes were scrunched together as its mouth was wide with wails. The mother just tapped its back almost uncaringly.
Harley's blue eyes watched the scene. She loved children. They were adorable, and she always imaged her future kids running around the playground. They would have dirty curly blond hair with her blue eyes. They would run to her laughing, his laugh. She closed her eyes trying not to think of it. She wasn't going to have children with him. He didn't want kids.
The child kept crying taunting her again with the image.
Each wail made her wince in personal misery. Couldn't the mother keep her kid in control? She looked at the old lady. She still was slowly placing each apple on to the counter. She wanted to get out of here. She wanted to run away from the dream she lost.
The child let out another piercing scream. Okay that was it.
Harley carefully tapped the woman on the shoulder. The woman flinched for a moment before slowly turning her head to look at her. The woman features looked like she just bit into a lemon. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and made it look like she had a stick permanently lodge up her ass. Harley gave her biggest brightest grin. "Could you by any chance try to calm your child?" she asked sincerely. She said nicely in hopes that the mother would pull out a toy or a bottle or something just to shut the kid up.
The lady glared at her. "You obviously don't have kids," the woman snapped back before turning her head back to her line.
Harley's grin fell off her face, her little hand turning into a fist at her side. Shot a three-legged dog when it's down why don't you! The child still continued to scream and the old lady in line had started pulling out each flower from the bouquet so she could pay for only a few flowers and not all. Harley closed her eyes trying to block it all away.
"Dear, I heard our little Sally from all the way in the back. Is she okay?" she heard a man's voice walking over to the other line with the kid.
The bitchy woman actually had a man, and she didn't. The woman actually had someone who cared for her and wanted to wake up with her. A man who probably didn't think about his male nextstoor neighbor. A man who wanted their child. A man with green hair...
Another wail escaped the child.
She heard the sound of a kiss. Then a harsh whisper, "That woman there was so rude. Can you believe people?"
She was finish with this. How could this rude mean frigid bitch actually have a family with a sweet man? How could this woman live out her dream? Society failed her once again! Her hand was already reaching into her side bag. Her fingers wrapped around the grip of her magnum revolver. She glanced at the security desk to see the officer leaning back in chair with a cup of coffee.
She wasn't meant to fit in society anyways. In one quick movement she pulled out her magnum and shot the choppy officer in the heart spilling coffee all over his face and shirt.
The screams came next and a playful smile followed on her lips. She pointed the revolver at the cashier whose hands automatically flew up into the air keeping her peripherals focused on the other people around her. "You're going to go lock that door cause I have a customer complaint," she said ending it with a little giggle.
The woman already had tears streaming down her face as she nodded. It looked like her head might actually pop off. The thought made her laugh again as the woman hurried to the door.
"You young kids have no respect for your elders or authority," the old lady pointed an accusing finger at her.
Harley dropped her basket on the counter then brought her finger to her chin in thought acting like she was really chewing over that fact before she nodded. "Yeah you're right, I don't," she turned the gun and shot the woman right in the head watching as her wrinkled eyes widened in horror. "Old people smell," she stated with a giggle then turned her gun towards the five people and the baby in the other line.
The husband had his hands wrapped around his wife and daughter. The Mexican cashier had his ass literally on top of the counter pushing as far away from her as she could. The other two were some teenage boys obviously trying to buy alcohol illegally. The baby was still screaming.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," the woman kept repeating as she shook her head.
Harley shook her finger in the air like she was scolding a child. "Yeah, ya really should watch those manners of yours. All I was askin was for you to get out a toy," she said reaching into her side pouch again. She grabbed her pop gun and pulled it out causing the cashier behind her and the woman in front of her to scream. The two boys were just standing there in shock. "Like this," Harley said with a large grin, shaking the popgun in her hand.
"Ya see I was havin a pretty bad day, and ya just made it worst. Ya think parents could control their kids," Harley said then shrugged uncaringly, "Guess I have too." She pulled on the trigger to the pop gun hearing the mother scream in protest and the husband try to cover his child.
A large banner with BANG written across it hung out of the gun, and Harley laughed. "I told you it was just toy!" Harley kept giggling at their surprise faces slowly turning it to relief. The kid was still crying. "You have to press the trigger twice if you want it to actually work," she stated shooting the sharp point of the Bang sign right into the child's little head.
The crying stopped, and Harley took in a deep soothing breath. The baby went limp in its mother's arms who was now screaming her lungs dry.
"What type of monster are you!" the father shouted in shock and horror, "I'm going to kill you!" He pushed his wife to the side.
Harley dropped her pop gun to ground as she pulled the trigger to the revolver shooting the father right between the eyes. His blood splattered onto the wife who was still screaming.
"Monster," Harley repeated the words as she scratched the revolver on her cheek, "That's not a very good compliment. What da ya think boys?" she asked pointing the gun at the two teenagers.
The two boys shook their heads as their mouths still hung stupidly open. She noticed the male cashier hiding a phone behind his side trying to type in a number while his eyes stayed fearfully glued to hers. Her leg came flying up doing a round up kick hitting him squarely in the jaw and causing him to impact hard on the side of the counter. She heard the phone clatter on the ground somewhere and the boys gave out a, "woah."
She then heard quiet footsteps behind her. She had noticed the other cashier quiet down a few minutes back. The lady must have grabbed something to hit her with. Oh how the brave fall…quite literally. She ducked down right as the basket started on its collision course towards her head. She then side kicked the woman in her kneecap hearing a crack and the woman scream as she fell to the ground. It was too easy some times with civilians, but still…absolutely fun! She grinned as she stood up. She wished she had her mallet, or something heavy like it. Something that she could get her anger out on. The Mexican cashier was out cold. Had she kicked him that hard? The mother was still screaming crying over her love ones. The woman cashier was cursing and holding her legs. The two boys still stood there in shock.
"Ya boys want to make some money?" she offered with her golden grin.
They looked at one another then shrugged. "Sure," the black haired one answered.
"Can ya go find me a shovel or something like that?" she said putting her revolver back in her side pouch. The two boys nodded then headed to look through out the store. They were probably already involved with one of the mob gangs to be so relax, she noted. She grabbed her popgun from the ground and put that in her bag as well.
"Why? Why are you so cruel?" the mother said through whimpers. Harley took a step towards the mother who automatically flinched back. Her hand reached into a side pocket of her bag and grabbed onto her large hunting knife. It was probably the size of her face. She knelt down on her knees so the woman and her were face to face. She glanced at the dead child with the flag sticking out its head then back to the mother.
"It's funny," she said with a giggle sliding her knees closer to the woman who only leaned farther away, "Ya used to have everything I wanted, and now you're like me. Life's a joke like that. But I'll give you some advice that someone very smart told me. When life gives you a joke just smile and laugh!" Before the woman could struggle Harley had pushed the dead child out of her way and straddled the mother between her thighs. The woman screamed as she tried push her away, but Harley easily got a hold of her wrist and pushed them down onto the ground. She then grouped her wrist above the woman's head before bringing her large knife to her mouth. "Smiles make everything better. Trust me they do," Harley said with a baby voice. "Ya just have to smile large and big and the sun comes out! I always feel better when I smile!" she said grinning her largest.
She stuck the large knife against the woman's lips and forced it into her mouth. She slowly pulled the knife across and up her cheek hearing the woman's piercing scream that matched her child's wail at the beginning. Harley's grin only grew as she watched the blood drip down her white skin. Once the tear reached her eye she pulled it out and placed it at the other edge of her mouth. She moved the blade just as slowly until all of the woman's white (well red now) teeth were showing. Harley sat up letting go of the woman's wrist. Her hands went flying to face. It looked like she was trying to mentally pull back the pain. Harley giggled innocently as she stared at her bloody blade. She touched her finger to it stroking it along the metal. The blood dripped along her white finger. She brought it to her lips and slowly caressed each one with the blood before plucking them together. "Natural lip stick is always the best!" she glanced down at the screaming woman and her bloody teeth, "Um ya got lipstick on your teeth…you didn't get it. It's okay! Ya pull it off well!" she said then started giggling. She couldn't stop. Her mind kept thinking of all the time Puddin's lipstick got on his teeth. He'd always look up at her with that innocent 'What?' look. He would then give that scowl. It wasn't his angry scowl, it was his slightly irritated but I'm happy you having fun scowl. She fell off the woman and onto the floor as she continued to laugh that slowly turned into a sob. Her puddin…her puddin….he was gone…with Batman. She would never have those fun moments with him again. She would be alone by herself.
"Um Miss…" one of the boys mumbled.
She opened up her tear filled eyes to see a kid balancing a shovel in his hand. Yes. She was standing fast ripping the shovel out of the kid's hand. She turned to the woman holding her kneecap. She imagined black. A cowl mask…a cape…the taunting perfect chin. It was all right in front of her. She slammed the metal shovel hard onto the mask. She imagined it cracking. She slammed it again hearing the squirting of blood and the perfect chin disappearing. She smashed it along Batman's perfect chiseled chest, and then crashed it into his abs. She twisted the shovel in her hands before slamming the edge into the spaces between his plates. Blood. It was everywhere. She felt it splattered across her skin and dress. She kept swinging. Her arms started to hurt, but she didn't stop.
When the sound of metal hitting tile finally radiated around her she stopped. Her breathing was heavy and the shovel just hung there in hand. She let go, letting it collapse on the ground while she stared at the bloody disfigured form of the body.
"Are-are you okay?" one of the boys behind her asked.
"Huh?" she said barely lifting an eyebrow before nodding. "Yeah, you guys should get out of here before the cops show," she answered absently.
"Uh…thanks," the other mumbled, but she didn't here movement. Finally the other spoke up, "You're Harley Quinn, the Joker's girlfriend right?"
"X," she responded in a weak voice.
"X?" one of them questioned.
"I'm Harley Quinn, the Joker's ex-girlfriend," she repeated.
She didn't hear a response, but she assumed nodding was involved. The boys quickly grabbed their liquor and headed towards the door. They unlocked the latch and just as they exited she heard one of the boys ask the other, "How can there be a Harley Quinn without a Joker?"
Normally she would have been furious at a statement like that but…
She was asking herself that exact same question.
