1He was always so impatient. Kind of like a little kid. As soon as we were in the door he was reaching for the bag and Harley actually tackled him to the ground as I took off running to my room. One - I didn't want him to see it before I got it on. Two - I didn't want to se Harley pinning my dad to the ground.
I didn't know if he and Harley had a physical relationship beyond abusive, and I didn't plan on finding out then.
I heard him struggling and her giggle then he cursed and something hit a table, knocking over a lamp and breaking it. Probably Harley as he shoved her away.
When the hell was she gonna learn? He was touchy - but on his terms.
I put on the costume, including the slightly-too-tight top and then donned my fedora and cane. I paused in the mirror and bit my lip before pulling out an old stage make-up kit I used for performances at school like musical theatre. I quickly applied eyeliner and mascara, making my eyes pop, and I added a little bit more to make it more... sinister. Then I looked over my lipstick choices.
Okay. I have a huge weakness for trashy make-up. Sometimes I wonder if it's because of who I grew up with. I think, though, it's because I suck at any make-up but stage make-up. I can't handle subtle browns and skin tones. I. Love. Red.
And so I grabbed the dark red lipstick and applied it with practiced ease to my upper and lower lips, making a sharper edge of it with my thumbnail.
Of course, because I was so intent of my lipstick being perfect I would rub my thumbnail right onto my pants. I stilled, my eyes traveling down to the red smear on my thigh.
"Harley!" I nearly shrieked and I heard her running, along with another person.
I ripped open the door and she squeezed in, and then both of us had to slam our bodies against the door to stop my dad from barging in.
"I'm naked!" I cried and the weight on the other side immediately fell away, making us both almost fall as the door slammed closed. I quickly straightened and gestured to my thigh. "What do I do? Jesus, is it gonna stain!? I'm such an idiot!"
She pursed her lips for a second and then dragged my into my bathroom and sat me down on the toilet seat. I watched as she wet a washrag with some soap and warm water and then she used her thumb and forefinger to pull the fabric taught and with quick movements wiped away the lipstick leaving nothing but a wet spot the size of a dime on my pants.
I sighed in relief and let my shoulders slump.
"Harley, you're the best. I think I almost cried. How'd you get past him?"
She winked. "My babies held him up a bit."
I grinned. Dad hated that the hyenas listened to Harley more than him. I found it all highly amusing.
She stood and placed her hands on her hips, and I suddenly ntoiced she was back in her harlequin outfit. Sometimes I wondered if Harleen Quinzel even existed.
"Well, kid, ready to show Mistah J?"
I fidgeted slightly.
"Harley... he won't be upset because it's fitted will he? I didn't think about it at the store..."
She raised a brow. "Miranda you look great," I smiled in thanks, "of course he's gonna be upset. But then he'll realize how great you look and he'll be fine! Trust me, I know Mistah J."
I hung my head a little. A feeling of resignation washed over me, but she caught my chin and tapped my nose lightly.
"He just has to get used to the idea that you're growing up, kid," her comment made me grin.
"Alright, fine, I can face him, I guess... and I can use the cane if I need too," I mused, testing the strength of it in my hand. I was sure I could swing it and run if need be.
When we poked our heads through the door there was no sign of him, but we could see his study door ajar and the light inside was on. We tiptoed together to the door and then Harley strolled through.
"Well? Where is she? What happened? Didn't it fit!? Did she not like it?" he demanded quickly of Harley.
"Oh, Mistah J! I knew you'd be worried about her!" Harley squealed. "Come on kid," she called to me and then said to Joker, "I'll feed the babies!"
I really didn't want to face him alone while she went out the back to feed her pets, but I pushed through the door and stopped just inside the study. I looked steadfastly everywhere but at him.
And then he surprised me. A lot.
"You look just like your mother."
--
WTF? I know, I feel the same way.
I just thought this would be so non-Joker, the Joker would say it.
Who knows why.
Oh, and don't worry guys, Mistah J's no goodie goodie in this fic, nor is he going soft in any way. He just has a different side he shows to Miranda.
Whether that sides real or not.
I know.
I'm cruel.
Oh, and I also know my chapters are incredibly weird lengths, but as soon as I typed that line, not even intending to keep it, I had to stop the chapter.
(I also know they move kind of quickly... that's most because in my memories I notice certain details, but usually remember the big picture, and well - when writing in first person you kind of have to base a little bit of yourself in the fic's tempo and style.)
And thank you to my three wonderful reviewers Mas, go-stevie-go, and DarknessinShadows - you guys are the only reason I continued the story!
