6 Months Earlier

Harleen had reluctantly been dragged out on "girls night." Visiting the clubs where the music pounded its way into your soul was not her idea of fun. They told her she needed to loosen up, she needs to stop thinking and start acting. Her placement at Arkham had started a few months prior. Listening to and counselling the worst criminals the city had to offer certainly did take its toll. She slowly sipped on her blue lagoon cocktail. Another one or two and she'd get a taxi home. That was the plan at least. The Doctor's friends had other ideas. They were relentless, she was going to have a good time whether she liked it or not. After taking this new job, it was weeks before they all saw her. Two drinks turned into four. And the shots kept coming. Harleen's head spun, her body swayed with the beat of the music. Suddenly she was at the bar, the bartender handing her another blue lagoon. The beat went faster, the club was literally jumping. Harleen got turned around, her friends scattered to the four winds. She saw a shadowy figure sitting alone in a booth. She could make out he was wearing a purple leather jacket. She walked towards him, transfixed on this lone figure. Harleen took another swig of her drink. Acting not thinking.

The club was packed, hot and loud. Civilians danced with the criminals, thinking this made them feel alive. Oh they would feel alive soon. The Joker sat in one of the secluded booths in the club, away from his men. He delighted in all the different ways he could torture the patrons as he downed the glass of whisky in front of him. A women approached him, obviously drunk, the blue cocktail swinging in her hand. She sat herself in his lap, her perfume sickly sweet.

"Hello baby, the names J,"

She babbled at him a while, he fantasied the many ways he could kill her, until something she said snapped back his attention,

"You see," she slurred and poking her slim finger into his chest.

"You use violence as a distraction. After all is said and done, you're lonely. You need someone to love and to love you,"

The Joker feigned surprise,

"Who's gonna love me honey, you?" The women leaned in close, never breaking eye contact. She kissed him, deep and slow. Sparks flew with that kiss and the Joker felt as though electricity went through his body. A low growl escaped his throat.

"I could," she replied with a sly smile,

"But I would have to be bat shit crazy," the Joker let out a loud peal of laughter. Who the hell was this woman? He slid his hand across the women's back dragging her closer to him, he leaned into her neck and lay a soft kiss on her pulse,

"That can be arranged."

A loud bang hit the club, guns went off and people started screaming, the Joker couldn't have been more turned on. One of his lackeys clapped him on the shoulder turning him around, he would kill him for the interruption,

"Boss! Boss! It's the Bat!"

The Joker turned and the woman was gone. He pulled his gun from its holster,

"Let's get this party started!" He yelled. The people parted in front of him like the Red Sea. The women was no where to be found.

"Boss! We have to go!" Police sirens filled the air. He pushed him out of the way.

The Joker went outside the club, the sounds of gun shots and glasses smashing almost deafening to the ears. There she was, hanging out the window of a taxi, her blonde hair blowing in the wind,

"Goodbye Mr J!" She yelled. Another bang shook the ground. The taxi was gone. The Joker yelled and turned to the shot up club, gun in the air. Out of the fire and smoke, he walked out. The Batman. The violence was over, and with it the distraction.

"It's over Joker, come peacefully and you and your men don't have to get hurt,"

The Joker dropped his gun and fell to his knees laughing. He put his hands on his head. She was right. They cuffed him and he was thrown against a police car. He laughed harder. If he were the Clown Prince, perhaps he did need someone to share the crown.