Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: So you guys missed him too? Good, cuz I did.


Programmers and electricians swarmed the halls, checking each and every camera. It was after noon and still, only a few of the cameras were on-line. Harley couldn't stand to leave her office. All these people were here because of her... because of what she'd done. She couldn't leave, but she didn't want to stay. She was alone, frightened, and the Joker was watching her.

No, it looked like he was watching her, he couldn't actually see her. But he was laughing at her all the same, and he knew what had happened. He also knew he was the reason for it.

The urge to run into that cell and smack him around until that smile fell off his face was overwhelming. Without thinking, she slipped from her room into the one next door. She was numbed head to toe with the rage she felt; he thought he could just sit and laugh as she fell apart, well she was going to prove him wrong.

Of course at 5'4" and with a small build, the odds were sadly against her, but she was determined to get a few good hits in before he threw her off.

And that was exactly what she did.

The door closed behind her with a click and he turned his laughing face towards her, just in time for her fist to connect with his jaw.

The force of it surprised him initially, but she hadn't caused him any real harm yet. Her knuckles ached from the first assault, but she flew at him again and again. Swinging and clawing blindly, hoping to hit a good mark. A few did, landing on his nose or jaw, but most were blocked deftly until he held both of her wrists over her head and she was left to screaming abuse at him.

At least he wasn't laughing now. His lip was split and she felt a sense of accomplishment as he wiped the blood away with his sleeve.

"Done now, doll-face?"

He'd been holding her arms for several minutes and they were sore. She was acutely aware that she had bruised several knuckles with his face and that her glasses lay on the floor somewhere underfoot. She couldn't reply to him just yet, her breathing was heavy and she was still near boiling with rage.

He held her until the fight left her and she hung uselessly in his arms. Good, so he hadn't stomped the fire out of her. Not yet anyways.

Slumped up against him, Harley had never felt more pathetic. So what she'd landed a few decent punches, but he had still won. She couldn't even move now. Would he ever let her go?

But then again, did she really want him to? She was pressed tight against him, her arms held over her head, her breathing was hard, rage and passion shining with equal measure in her eyes.

He let her hit the floor with an unbecoming thump. She rolled over to put on her glasses. There was a crack all the way across one lens. Damn.

He cast a demeaning glance at her again and restarted his crazed laughter. She hated him right now. So arrogant, so full of... URGH! She was so angry she couldn't even think straight! But she was tired too, and she knew another attack wouldn't do her any good.

She still hadn't gotten up, and she was quivering with anger. Wisps of blond hair hung in her face and fell about her shoulders. Her cheeks were red and her eyes flashed. She was beautiful, and he couldn't deny that he wanted her even as he gloated.

"Come on, pooh... GET UP!"

He yanked her to her feet. She staggered but held her balance.

"I really hate you... thought you outta know that," she panted, struggling away from him.

"Aww... you know, you really shouldn't hurt people's feelings... Guys, uh, like me, don't take rejection too well..."

The knife was back. Flicked out like a deadly extension of his hand. Harley ran to the door, wide-eyed, but her grabbed her and threw her back into the room.

"Don't make me yell, Harley... I don't like to."

The forced calm of his voice terrified her more than anything else could. He approached her slowly, and she inched back into a corner. Her anger was replaced by utter fear.

"D-don't kill me," she whimpered, "Puddin', please don't kill me."

"Harley," his tone was reproachful, "is that really what you're concerned about?"

He laughed, and pulled her up by her elbow, holding the knife close to her throat. She shivered as every breath hit her cheek.

"I don't want to kill you... what would I do without you?"

His question made the hate rise in her again; so it was true, all he wanted in her was a toy to be played with, and then tossed aside.

Her fists clenched, and teeth locked. The look in her eye was one that could kill.

She wasn't playing his game properly so he decided to help.

"Dontcha wanna know how I got this knife?" he asked pressing it tighter to her neck. He licked his lips again... like an animal before a kill.

She was silent.

"Well?... ASK!"

"How'd you g-get the knife?" she stuttered, but not from fear. The intense burning hate in her made her shake. This time he would be the one hurting after their meeting.

Good, she had asked, the game could continue, and maybe it would work the way he wanted... she was so angry though; she needed to lighten up.

"It was a present."

"A present?" it was her turn to laugh. It came out scornfully, "Really, from who?"

Her anger blinded her to the answer. She would have known if she paid any attention... but instead, she stood, every nerve tightened, face to face with a crazed maniac that she hated and loved equally.

He was the only one who ate her up. Slowly and painfully devouring her sanity, but he was also the only one who could understand her caged feeling... her need to break free and let all inhibitions go. They were two of a kind... probably the only two of their kind.

"I'm the Joker, doll-face, you'd be surprised at how many people would like to cut me into little pieces. Especially when they feel threatened."

He teased the knife into a scrape along her throat.

The pain cleared her head, bringing her back to sense. And with that sense came logic, and with logic, the answer to her question. David.

"No," she breathed.

His lips danced into a wide grin.

"Oh yes! Your little friend here is quite the madman. They say I'm crazy, but this guy... this guy's a real nut job."

His laugh was a bark.

"You're lying."

Tears sprang up in her eyes and she hated them. She hated herself for always crying. So weak.

"Am I?"

He eased the knife away from her throat, "You'll never know now... your, uh, vendetta in the surveillance room sorta destroyed the evidence."

Harley pushed past him and flew to the door. But she couldn't open it. Where was her card?

"Forgetting something, Doll?"

The plastic card flipped around and around in his fingers.

"Give it to me."

"Look, I've got you wrapped around my finger."

His laughs were hysterical.

"Now."

She had to get out of here.

"Not until we're even... you've gotta honor your end of the deal..."

Time to raise the stakes and have some real fun. She looked so beautiful when she was angry. He licked his lips like a ravenous wolf.

"W-what else? We w-went for a walk, and we h-had coffee... what else is there?"

The fearful stutter was back. He stepped up close to her again, pinning her against the door.

"I said to do everything... you still owe me a kiss," he purred, slicking his mangy hair back. Against her will, Harley felt drawn to him. She fought those feelings with whatever hate and fear she could manage.

"You slimy bastard, this isn't funny!" she screamed at him, lunging at the card he held just out of grasp.

"You don't like my joke?" he play-acted hurt, "Well, Harl, I guess you're always taking hits from people who just don't get the joke... maybe someday it'll, uh, click."

With that he dove upon her lips, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She tried to scream or fight him off, but he was too strong for her, and nobody was there to hear her.

His kiss was rough, but not unpleasant. She found herself slipping away and answering back to his bites with equal passion. She could hardly breathe, but her hands wound through his hair, across his face, along those scars. The coppery taste of blood from his split lip mixed into their kiss, and the odd sensation of his scars sliding over her lips filled her brain.

He stepped back and held out the card, smirking,

"Here's your card, Honey, you've earned it."

Blushing fervently and fingering her swollen lips, Harley snatched the ID from him.

Momentary sanity broke through and she remembered the knife.

"Knife too."

"That wasn't part of our arrangement... you'll have to search me for it."

He grinned.

"Shall I spread 'em for you, Quinn?"

She didn't say another word, just turned and stalked out, still delirious from the assault on her lips. Forced as it was, she couldn't say she hadn't enjoyed it.

That man... there was something about him that she couldn't ignore. Something that connected them, far more powerful than the laws of Gotham... far more powerful than the Batman, whoever he was...

She fingered her card as she thought, turning it around in her hand.

There was something red smeared on her picture. Marker? Harley tried to wipe it off, but the smear wouldn't budge.Had he coloured on her ID card? When the devil did he have time to do that? And why just scribble across her face? Harley looked closer through her cracked lens.

Black circles round the eyes and a red smile scrawled along her lips.

Five minutes ago she would have been terrified, now she just grinned to herself. Two of a kind, indeed.