The Enemy Part 2

Is this really happening? Can it be? Did I fall for the enemy?

Harley sat alone in her red/black/purple/green room. (It was so oddly colored because of Harley and Joker's contrasting color tastes) She held the Batarang close to her, it was still warm. She deeply inhaled. She smelled the scent she grew to like. It was indescribable, it quite simply smelled like home to her.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Joker.

"Hey, baby girl. Whatcha doin all coped up in here?" he inquired.

"Oh, nothing, Mistah J. Just sitting. Thinking," she said.

"About what?" he said, sitting on the bed next to her, putting his arm around her and laying back, forcing her to lay next to him.

She cuddled up next to him, taking in his warmth. "Batsy," she said.

"Oh?" Joker said.

"Yeah," she said, trying to mask the way her voice said she longed to see Batman again, replacing it with worry.

"What if he finds me, puddin'? What if he tries to…I don't know…get revenge or something?"

"Don't worry, babe. Daddy won't let anything get to you. Cause NOBODY, not even bat-fuck, lays a finger on MY Harley," he said.

The sound of his voice, it's soothing qualities and calming tone brought Harley back to reality.

"What's wrong with you, Harl?" she asked herself. "You don't love bat-brain! You love Joker."

And with that all sorted out, Harley fell asleep in Joker's arms, not a care in the world other than her Mr. J.

Bruce paced around in the Batcave.

Alfred walked in with a silver platter, tea and cookies placed strategically atop. "Care for a snack, Master Bruce?" he said.

Bruce jumped. "You scared me, Alfred."

"Not my intention, sir. I do apologize," he said.

"Fine, fine. Don't worry about it. And no thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Something wrong, sir?" Alfred asked, placing the platter on a ledge near the Batmobile.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Bruce said.

"Very well, sir," Alfred said, picking up the platter and turning to walk away.

"Alfred?" Bruce said, stopping him mid-stride.

He turned to face his Master, heels together. "Yes, Master Bruce?"

"It's big," Bruce said.

Harley woke up and looked at the clock. 5:47 am. She turned and saw Joker was still sound asleep. "Better not wake him," she whispered. She crept out of bed, put her purple and green robe on and headed downstairs, Batarang in hand.

She came to the front of the warehouse to the weaponry. He monstrously oversized, trademark mallet lay on the floor. She placed the Batarang on the table, picked up the mallet, brought it over her head and smashed the Batarang to oblivion, leaving a huge dent in the steel table.

"No more remnants of Bats," she said, satisfied, as she went back upstairs and back to bed.

"So you're telling me you're in love with Joker's maniacally insane, harlequin girlfriend?" Alfred said, sounding less like a butler and more like a disappointed father.

"I know, stupid. How could I have fallen into this?" Bruce said, worriedly. "I mean, she's insane. Insane! And I managed to fall in love with her! I'm not ever sure if the feeling is mutual!"

"Master Bruce, the best advice I have to give you is this, forget about her. I'm sure it's just a crush. We all get them and the feeling ends up being less than it seems. Think of her as the enemy, and nothing more."