Two

Jonathan sat quietly, staring out of the window as the black Lexus pulled into the driveway of a small, beat up house in a questionable neighbourhood, even for the Narrows. The driver, this Harley Quinn as she called herself, intimidated him quite a bit and he figured avoiding eye contact with her was in his best interest. Harley put the car in park and turned off the ignition. With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair, a look of relief sweeping her fair features. Jonathan chanced a look at her and caught her eyes. Utterly terrified and wishing he had his mask, he looked away. If she was anything like the man who had sent her, he had every reason not to look at her, just in case he was looking the wrong way, especially considering she was female and might take his glances offensively, in which case he would probably end up dead in the gutter and…

"I don't bite, you know," she laughed, interrupting Jonathan's train of oddball thoughts. Jonathan turned to face her and grinned slightly, feeling blush creep onto his cheeks as she flashed him a dazzling smile. The last few months in the asylum had done absolutely nothing for his social skills. Harley winked playfully and cast a glance at the clock on the dashboard before undoing her seatbelt.

"We're right on time," she mumbled, "Let's go."

"On time for what?" Jonathan asked, confused. He hated not being in the loop; feeling insecure over the lack of facts he was receiving.

"Dinner," Harley said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. She got out the car, Jonathan following suite, and locked the door, the car beeping twice to reinforce what she had just done.

"What are we having?" Jonathan asked as he and Harley climbed the few steps to the front door.

"Whatever it is," she smiled again, "It's better than the slop they feed you at Arkham." She knocked on the door in a very distinct pattern, three short knocks in rapid succession, followed by a short pause and then what sounded like the first part of a tune played at a baseball game. Once finished, she let herself in, Jonathan close behind her.

"Well, in that case," Jonathan smirked, "I'm starving." He looked around the house after stepping inside and instantly got a shiver running down his spine. The place was dark and dusty, looking as if it hadn't had a good cleaning in years. That would not do anything good for his allergies. The front door opened up into a long hall with rooms branching out from either side of said hall, the lights off in all of them. A dim and fluctuating glow was emanating from the room furthest from the front door. Harley motioned for Jonathan to follow her before beginning to head down the hallway, her footfalls so soft they barely made a sound. The anticipation in Jonathan's stomach grew with every step he took, his own footsteps silent due to the fact that he had not collected his shoes from the asylum.

When Jonathan entered the room, the first thing he noticed was the television was on, and his pictured was plastered on the screen. He could barely hear the newscaster though, over the cackling laughter coming from the man seated on the couch, his back to Jonathan and Harley.

"You two," the man laughed, greasy green hair flying around, "You sure know how to, uh, enter-tain." His last syllable was cut off by a horrible smacking noise that Jonathan was all too familiar with. His shoulders tensed and for a moment he wondered if perhaps, he was better off in Arkham. The man on the sofa rose and turned to face them, his face spread into a elongated grin, painted with a macabre red colour. Jonathan noticed that Harley didn't flinch as he did, as most people did, when they laid their eyes upon the face of the Joker.

"Well done, Har-ley," the Joker stepped closer to the blonde female, whose face was a mask of some unreadable emotion. He reached out, almost carefully, his hand twitching slightly as it ran down her smooth cheek.

"Thank y…" she was cut off by a swift hand colliding with her mouth. Her face betrayed no pain save for her eyes filling with tears.

"Only talk when I, uh, when I ask you to," the Joker smiled at her before pressing her against the wall of the tiny living room and bringing his lips to hers. Jonathan looked away, embarrassed, as he kissed her with brute force, his hands wrapped tightly in her hair, pulling at the locks as if he were trying to cause her pain. Jonathan thought the idea was absurd until he remembered what a sadist the Joker actually was. He decided to keep his eyes locked on the floor until they had finished up. It took only a moment or so before Jonathan heard a loud thud and looked up, seeing Harley crumpled on the floor.

"Good. Girl," the Joker patted her head softly, the complete opposite of how he had been handling her only moments ago, "Dinner's in the fridge…run along." He watched with hunger in his eyes as Harley stood, he legs a bit shaky and left the room, presumably headed for the kitchen. When she was out of sight, having ducked into a room on the left side of the hall, the Joker rounded on Jonathan, his dark eyes dancing mischievously, the white paint around his lips smudged with the red of his lips as the result of his kissing Harley; which for some reason made Jonathan's stomach turn. For a long moment, the two just looked at each other before the Joker stepped up to Jonathan.

"Nice to see you a-gain, Crane," he smacked his lips only inches from Jonathan's face, making the man close his eyes in discomfort. "Now, now, now," the Joker cooed in response to Jonathan's actions, "Don't be afraid my itty-bitty, uh, bird-ie. I won't hurt you."

"Why did you break me out of there?" Jonathan asked, his voice not sounding nearly as strong as he would have liked it to.

"I've got plans," the Joker replied, "It's a…new thing for me, but I think it's gonna work, uh, perfectly."

"And you need me." Jonathan assumed out loud.

"Yepp," the Joker smacked his lips once more, spraying Jonathan with foul smelling spittle. The man had absolutely no sense of hygiene. It was disgusting. "Do you wanna hear my…plan?" Jonathan seriously considered the question for a moment before shaking his head. The manic look in the Joker's eyes and the mad grin on his face told Jonathan he wanted to hold off hearing about this plan for as long as possible.

"I'm hungry," Jonathan said, desperate to change the subject. The Joker looked angry for a moment before chuckling and heading back to his seat on the sofa, facing the television which was still showing images live from Arkham.

"Har-ley's got some food in the kitchen," he mumbled. Jonathan waited a few moments in silence before deciding the Joker was finished and leaving the room as quickly as possible. He headed to the third room to the left; the only one with a light on, and his eyes fell upon Harley, sitting alone at the table eating cold pasta. She looked horrible. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying. Jonathan cleared his throat loudly before he entered. Harley's head shot up and she quickly rubbed her eyes, and feigned a cough, as if to pretend she had been choking or something to that effect. Jonathan simply smiled and took a seat across the table from her.

"Do you want some?" Harley asked, not waiting for a reply. Instead, she got up and headed to the fridge, pulling out a container full of pasta. "I can heat it up if you want," she said.

"Cold is fine," Jonathan replied, watching as Harley scooped some into a plate for him and brought it back to the table. She sat back down, her dazzling smile on her face once more. Jonathan felt his heart pull, knowing that the smile was fake.

"You don't have to smile if you're upset," Jonathan muttered, munching on the pasta. It was actually delicious for something served cold and, no doubts, leftover.

"He likes it when I smile," Harley whispered, her eyes lingering over Jonathan's shoulder, focused on the doorway.

"He's not here," Jonathan whispered back, his eyes focused intensely on Harley, noticing how pretty she actually was. She looked back at him, plainly uncomfortable with the topic.

"Did he tell you about the…plan?" she asked, forcing the last word out of mouth, as if it were new to her vocabulary.

"No," Jonathan answered, "Do you want to tell me?"

"Can't," Harley said, "He hasn't even told me yet. All he said was we needed you. Said you became like a brother to him in Arkham…" she trailed off, her smile fading a bit.

"That's definitely not the word to use," Jonathan shook his head, remembering all the long days of mental and emotional torture he had endured at the hands of the Joker, before the moved him to maximum security.

"I'm sorry then," Harley murmured, "For dragging you into this."

"What exactly is this, then?"

"Not sure," Harley shrugged, "But at least we'll both have someone to find out with, right?"

--x

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