Author's Note:
Just wanted to thank everyone who's been reviewing me. It's really nice to get feedback and hear what I'm doing right, or wrong.
And to chocolatemooses . You have no idea how happy it made me that someone caught my ode to Little Alex. Kudos and you get a cyber-cookie.
Anyway, keep sending the feedback, it really helps keep me going. Thanks for all your support!
Now let's get back to My Man stabbing Harley…
It was hard to breathe.
My lungs felt like lead and I couldn't move for pain, but I wasn't dying. No, the Joker knew the difference between hurt and kill. He sat beside me, playing with a tiny blade. One leg bent up while the other stretched out in front of him. So calm. So contained. As if he hadn't just stabbed his cupcake in the gut.
Maybe he just didn't care.
I think we were there now, back at the warehouse that was our temporary home. The boys were inside, doing whatever it was they did on off time. I was sprawled across the metal floor of the semi, trying to think passed the pain.
"I di-" My breath hissed out when shifting made the blade in my gut do the same. "I didn't tell them anything." He didn't look up, just played with his knife. "Baby, please. You know I would never-"
Without a word, he reached over and yanked the blade from my gut. I groaned, rolling onto my side and curled around myself. He didn't move, but I heard a soft, wet squeak as he cleaned the blade on his leather glove. God this shit hurt, but I couldn't mope, couldn't lay around. He didn't like that, the lazy little cows.
So, though I was about to throw up from the pain, and though I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, I sat up. Crawled, really, over to him and gulped down air. He arched a brow when I got on my knees and straddled him. It was awkward at first because he still had his knee bent, but that only made me slide down to his waist. I looked down at him then, curling my fingers in his hair while I kept myself from bleeding on him with the other hand.
"Trust me." I implored softly, searching his eyes. Such dark, intense eyes. There was a soft growl; that sound he made when irritated, so I closed my eyes. "Please, you're all I have. Trust me."
‑
It was stupid, baring my soul to a man who had no problem ripping it out. I was hurting, panting now, and maybe that helped. I was starting to get dizzy and when he fisted my hair. I groaned again, but it was soft. Encouraging. He pulled me down into a kiss that had me breathless.
As always, his kisses were too rough. They were harsh and sometimes painful. He bit my lower lip enough to make me jump then pulled back. I yelped when he shoved me off and I toppled to the side.
Guess that meant he was done. Bastard.
"Come on, Harley." He said softly, "We've got things to do."
"Be right there, Mr. J" I offered a smile and rolled onto my back for a few deep breaths.
Yeah. Welcome home, Harley-girl.
xXx
"So what, is this like foreplay for you two?" The asshole currently patching me up was Tyler. Funny, I'd always thought he would die in his first few months of working for the Joker. Apparently, the guy was a survivor. Pity.
"Just do your job, douche-bag." I stepped up onto the table and peeled my blood-soaked shirt off the wound. Tyler only laughed, shaking his head. He grabbed a wet cloth and threw it into my lap.
"You've still got your face on." He hated my makeup. Hated that I so openly supported the Joker. Hated that I loved him. Tyler, you see, had a bit of a crush. I grit my teeth and hurriedly cleaned my face while he gathered his stitching needle and thread. My life was about to righteously suck, and I grumbled this as I pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it to the ground with the cloth.
Tyler sighed heavily and strung the needle while I washed the wound with a sterilizer pad. Mr. J really needed to be a bit more gentle. He may be virtually unkillable, but I was only a slip of a lass. I wouldn't have been able to survive a flipped semi with little more than a headache after. He seemed to be under the impression that I was as lucky as him.
The hooked needle pinched into my skin and I hissed in a sharp breath. You never got used to this.
"He's going to kill you one of these days." Tyler wasn't looking at me when he spoke, but his expression was one of fury. I only groaned, focusing on his dark hair to ignore the pain.
"It's been a long day, hun, I really don't need this right now."
"What you need is a psych evaluation." He spoke so vehemently that the needle jumped. I cursed and slapped him upside the head. The thug stopped stitching and placed both hands on the table at either side of me. As he turned those cold, green eyes on me, I remembered how many men I'd watched him work over for Mr. J. How many I'd seen him kill. This didn't frighten me, so much as make me cautious and look down in apology. It was easy to forget that these men were murderers when you lived so close to them. Especially when you're most intimate relationship was with a murdering, psychopathic clown.
‑
Some people just lived differently.
Tyler went back to work, being a bit less then gentle. My pained gasped and grunts seemed to be his revenge for my choice in lifestyle.
"What is it with you low self-esteem girls? You can't just settle for a crappy guy. You have to scrape the bottom of the barrel." I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued over me. "Do you know how many people out there keep tabs on you? Shit, half the gangsters out there want to know how the Joker scored such a hot little thing. You could have any one of those men and they'd support you better than him."
At that I laughed, shaking my head, and he looked at me as if I were insane…er.
"Harley, how many times has he tried to kill you?"
"I seem to recall you holding a gun to my head," my eyebrow arched and his expression darkened.
"In the last month?"
Yeeaahhh.
"You know I'm not going to leave him, Tyler. So quit pushing. You may all think he's just a loon, but I know his artistic vision. He's a genius, Tyler! The man was created to raise Hell." I could tell my face had taken on that dreamy look when he grumbled disgustedly and shook his head. I'd never seen it, but the boys told me they could almost see the hearts and cherubs floating around me when I spoke about my Puddin'.
None of them got it. None of them understood how amazing he was. How creative. Sometimes simply keeping up with his level of energy was exhausting. He was so wild, ever thinking. His mind was racing circles around yours by the time he spoke his questions. But it was always the smart ones that became the most frightening.
I loved Mr J. From the very beginning I would have done anything for him. As Tyler cut the thread and put away the tools, my mind began to wonder into the past. Not everything had been peaches and cream, but nothing to turn me away from my idol. My beloved Mr. J.
"Harley." The snap made me jump to attention. Speak of the devil.
The Joker looked between us with a peculiar look, then at my freshly stitched stomach. His dark, fathomless eyes rested on my face before he held out an arm. Without question, I took it and he spun out of the room, dragging me along. Halfway down the hall, he grabbed the back of my neck, the way that drove me crazy, and forced me into our room.
When I didn't hurry to do anything, he cuffed my cheek. "Move, move, move. I have things to do."
"Move to what?"
‑
He frowned and I stepped back, which only ignited his temper further. I wasn't allowed to back away from him. If I was punished, I deserved it, no questions asked. The Joker snatched my upper arm and yanked me forward, throwing me off balance. I fell into him and groaned when the sudden movement popped a few stitches.
"Clothes and sleep." He said slowly, as if I were stupid. "I don't want you passing out on me when the fun starts." Then he let go and I rubbed my arms, there would be a bruise. Sometimes I wondered if he knew exactly how strong he really was. How is someone so wiry that strong?
"Fun?" I asked while I moved to the dresser. I got the dresser after Mr. J had gotten tired of my clothing taking up his space. While I called it our room, it was really his. There were times that I had to sleep in the rec room because he'd gone into one of his moods. Right now, he stood in front of a huge map of Gotham. His hands were slightly raised, fingers fluttering in thought and he smiled.
"Oh, the best. War games always are." He chuckled to himself as if this made sense to me. Pulling on a dark red, striped top, I moved to his side and tried to find what he was gazing at.
"So what'd you do with the other two bombs Mr. J?" He frowned, glancing at me sideways then growled.
"You never get the joke, Harley. You just don't understand." This seemed to disappoint him and my heart sank to my knees. "Sometimes I wonder why I haven't just killed you."
I hugged him then, like an idiot, and I think it was pure shock that kept him from hurting me. When I pulled back he stepped away from me and straitened his suit. I only smiled, tilting my head at him and wrinkled my nose the way that always got him to really look at me.
"Who else would laugh with you if I wasn't here, Puddin'?" he narrowed his eyes, but didn't hit me, so I guessed we were good again.
The Joker went to his desk then and leaned over a pile of papers and photographs, getting lost in his work. I yawned quietly and moved to the bed. He would be gone for hours now. Studying the city and its people, noting important places and names. I ran fingers over the prickly wiring that had popped around my wound, but didn't head for Tyler. (Cuz there was no way I'd ever have the Joker tend me. That ship had sailed.) I was far too tired. Tomorrow would no doubt be a big day. As I lay down, my mind wandered back to the look he was giving the map.
War Games, he'd said. That didn't bode well.
I know this chapter was a bit slow, but I had to end the first day. The next chapter will be a flashback to how the Joker drove her over the edge. Hooray for violence! It should be up by tomorrow, so no worries. Feedback is much appreciated and HOLY CRAP Josalynn, lol. I'm working, I promise!