A/N--Thanks to my reviewers!! It really means a lot...it's definitely true what other people have said on this site, reviews definitely keep you going.

Run For Your Life

Chapter Two

There is a pleasure, to be sure, that none which madmen know. –John Dryden

She was insane. There was no way this was going to work. There was no way she would even be able to find him let alone talk him into what now seemed equally insane. She had no idea who or what she would be dealing with, of that much she was certain. She had a sneaking suspicion, given everything she had seen on TV, that he might have better things to do anyway than dispose of an abusive boyfriend for someone he didn't even know. She expected that he would simply laugh in her face or even worse, wave her off without even a 'no' for an answer.

Maybe, if she was lucky enough to find him and speak with him, he would simply just save them both time and put her out of her misery. At this point, she was already living a fate worse than death that death in itself, especially at the hands of someone other than her assailant, would be a blessing. She shuddered at the thought that it had come to this. She was praying that if a psycho serial-killer dressed as a demented clown wouldn't help her, that he would at least have the decency to kill her. How much lower could she possibly sink?

Still, despite the fact that it wasn't going to work, she didn't see what other choices she had. She had to try.

The Joker, as he was called, had created a media firestorm around himself. An agent of chaos, he had called himself, the deliverer of a society in need of embracing its true self. He was terrifying and completely unpredictable and absolutely capable of doing whatever was in his demented mind but he was the only one fearless enough to help her. In fact, he didn't seem to be afraid of anything at all, as if he didn't care even if he lived or died.

But how to convince him? Given everything she had witnessed on TV and read in the paper, the last thing he would be interested in doing was aiding a battered mob boss' girlfriend. He seemed to care little for anyone or anything, which didn't necessarily help nor hurt her because although he probably wouldn't think twice before taking a life, it didn't mean he would do it if it meant making someone else's life better or easier, not to mention happier. He didn't seem like that kind of a clown.

She had no idea what she could offer in return for his…services…or what she could possibly say that might convince him. She knew it was best to just be straightforward and tell him everything, even if it meant saying the one thing she had never said aloud to anyone. If there was even the slightest chance that it could convince him, she would do it. Her personal demons and the pain, both physical and mental, that she hadn't even begun to recover from, could be enough but she wasn't quite sure. It probably wouldn't matter anyway. He seemed sadistic enough to listen to her story, to revel in her pain and heartache, and then cast her away after hearing all the sordid, gory details.

As the news came on for the evening, she realized that finding him might not be as difficult as she thought. He was practically begging to be caught not only by the police but by Batman as well. It was as if he wanted a confrontation. Like that was the plan all along. All she had to do was find a way to sneak in after the smoke had cleared in one of his seemingly countless acts of terrorism and anarchy. She could act like an innocent bystander and wait for the perfect opportunity. What harm could it do? It wasn't as if the life she was living now was any better than all the ways her encounter with the Joker could end badly.

The crowd had just begun to clear as Harley arrived on the scene. She looked frantically around and swore under her breath as she realized that she had been too late. She had missed him every single time. Maybe it wasn't going to be as simple as she thought.

This particular time the Joker had robbed another mob bank. From what she gathered from the onlookers around her, he had stolen every penny from the mob's safe. This did not bode well for her when she returned home.

Out of sheer desperation, she weaved in and out of the people surrounding the mess that used to be a major Gotham bank. Smoke and crumbling concrete where everywhere but there was no sign of the man that could potentially be her savior. What had she been thinking? That she could waltz in and talk to him while the police waited patiently outside? That he wouldn't escape as soon as he could? Even worse, she was starting to think that her plan to have Salvatore killed wasn't going to work either.

She was so stupid. So stupid to think she had even had a chance in hell. That she could count on an unpredictable lunatic who was painted up like every child's nightmare. She couldn't count on anybody. That was the most disturbing thing of all. Psychotic serial killers…now people like that, like the Joker, could be counted on to be unreliable. But family? Friends? They were supposed to be the ones who would always be there, through thick and thin. Through hell and high water. Well, hell had come, but friends and family were no where to be found.

She was alone. She had no one.

As the crowd began to clear out since it was clear that all the action was long over with, a familiar Mercedes came into view. Its menacing white glare seemed to beckon to her, to will her to come closer and she knew if she didn't obey, and quickly, she would only pay later. As she grew nearer to the car, a window rolled down, revealing the furious face of her tormentor.

"Harley!" He shouted venomously. "Get in the car. Right. Now."

She didn't hesitate. Within moments, she was huddled to the edge of the backseat, her face pressed against the window. She refused to make eye contact with him for fear of what she would see in his eyes. Sometimes, it was better not to know what he was planning to do to her. The element of surprise usually gave way to shock, which helped numb the pain.

She closed her eyes tightly as he began to speak in a hoarse whisper.

"What were you doing here? Harley…Harley…answer me. Look at me when I'm talking to you…don't make me ask you again."

She completely stop herself from shuddering compulsively at the sound and tone of his voice. She was certain she had a very pleasant evening to look forward to. When she finally met his eyes, she quickly conjured up a lie.

"I was trying to withdraw some money. But as I'm sure you noticed, the bank was closed."

He seemed to relax at that. "Well, then, the next time you need money, let me know. I don't want you running around Gotham on your own like that again, understand? What if something happened to you? Do you know what that would do to me?"

She nodded quickly and found the reprieve she was looking for in his expression. She could only hope but maybe tonight he would leave her alone.

"Now, we need to get home. I have a very important meeting there tonight. You will stay in the bedroom. I'd better not see or hear you. Do you understand?"

She nodded again and this time, was met with a cold stare.

"This is no joke, Harley. The future of the business depends on this meeting. If you disrupt it in any way, I won't hesitate to punish you."

The only response she could manage to his imminent threat was a slight nod.

With nothing else left to say, they rode in silence back to the penthouse.

Harley paced around the bedroom like a prisoner who was slowly going insane. Her cell was not one of padded walls or even iron bars but instead was a posh bedroom inside an expensive penthouse. She might as well be in a prison. The inmates were probably taken care of better there anyways, she thought to herself ruefully.

Although she knew the meeting had not yet begun, she had been stowed away in the bedroom for at least two hours now. He had threatened her yet again when he threw her in the bedroom and had given her a few brutal slaps for good measure. As soon as she was certain that she would be left alone, she switched on the TV and set the controls for the security camera inside the penthouse. She smiled to herself as she watched Salvatore pace around the kitchen, waiting for his business associates to arrive. It had been a small victory when she had discovered the security cameras but it was a victory nonetheless. Whenever he had a meeting at home, she always eavesdropped, not just to find out what was going on, but because it was a way to get back at him. To remind herself that she still had some fight left in her.

A movement across the screen caught her eye and she hurried over to observe the new development. Her eyebrows raised as several men entered the penthouse. It appeared as if the 'guests' had arrived.

As each one filtered in after another, she felt a twinge of familiarity creep through her. Their outfits, their mannerisms, the way they seemed to twitch with nervous anticipation…very much like the men she had seen on TV.

Before her next thought could even register in her brain, the man of the hour stepped through the door frame. He seemed to slither, snake-like, around the furniture and through the rooms as she watched with a strange mixture of shock, surprise, and terror. Within moments, he was standing directly in front of Salvatore and she leaned forward with new excitement because she could finally see him more clearly.

Although he was dressed in the same attire she had now become familiar with thanks to the media, there was something…indescribable about the experience of seeing him in her own home, in her own kitchen, speaking with her would-be executioner. The cameras seemed to blur the smearing of his war paint into a mash of eerie chaos and she couldn't stop herself from shuddering. The man scared the living daylights out of her…but still, here he was, by another demented twist of fate, and she had the opportunity she had been waiting weeks for.

She hadn't had to go looking for him after all. He had come to her.

Now all she had to do was to wait for the right moment and muster enough courage to open the bedroom door. She was positive that fate would take care of the rest. What did she have to lose anyway? If she was going to go down, better sooner rather than later. And she was determined to go out with guns blazing, kicking and screaming all the way down to hell's fiery gates.

A/N--Major fireworks in the next chapter...read and review, please!!