Author Note:

So I have to say that, as an author, this was my favorite chapter. It was so much fun to write and probably would have been much longer had I not been worried about it getting overwhelming. Most people don't want to read 4000 words in one sitting. (most people that aren't me)

So, I don't want to say it's "requisite" that you send a response, but holy crap am I hoping you do!!

Please, please, please, reviews would be worshiped in this case. Tell me what you think. I'd love to know if you had as much fun with this chapter as I did.

Willow

(Heath's Harley)

"Mr. J, Look out!" I cried as the Batman lunged for him. I'm currently holding a gun to the head of a pretty blond girl who Batman seems desperate to keep out of harm's way. It's funny; you'd think he would've learned his lesson with the first girl. The one that blew up.

But what can you do?

The girl whimpers in my arms and I smile, nuzzling into her cheek and smearing white greasepaint onto hers. She smells like expensive perfume, and I like the way her golden hair is all perfectly held in its complicated bun. She's so pretty. Mr. J lets out a wild laugh that lets me know things are in our favor. When I look up, the Batman in dripping with our men. He bellows when The Joker kicks out the blade in his shoe and buries it in the hero's gut. I give a squeal of pleasure and the girl I'm holding groans.

Without warning, she spins in my arms and slaps me. Slaps me.

"What kind of sissy shit was that?" I touch my lip and make a face, lifting my gun. She's suddenly frozen again with the barrel in her face. Too many things are going on for the dark knight to notice she's in trouble. Because suddenly, I don't find her redeemable anymore. And her perfect hair has come undone a bit and leaves ugly frizzy strands all around her face.

"No." I say, pointing the gun at her head angrily, "Look at yourself. Why would he even want you?"

She screams when I grab her again, and I smile wide. My makeup frightens her, I know, as it frightens everyone else. She trembles under my hands and I trace the line of her cheek with my gun.

"Shit!" I can't help the cry when I'm wrenched off my feet and back against a hard, plated chest. The Hero thinks he can take me hostage? I don't know who to feel worse for; him, for the fooling plan, or me, because I know the Joker's answer before he gives it.

"That's enough, Joker," Batman growls. He's twisted my arm out painfully until I drop my gun, wrapping his arm around my throat. The Joker tilts his head, frowning for a moment, before he laughs.

"Um…No."

Batman tightens his grip, and I gag involuntarily. Black eyes snap to mine in warning, before he grins again.

"Why is it they always go for the girl?" he waved his gun around thoughtlessly and shook his head. "Take her. Maybe she'll be more use to you."

I won't pretend that didn't hurt, but for now I can't think about it. Instead I slam my elbow into the Hero's ribs, right over the place he's been stabbed, spinning out of his arms with a snarl and ignoring the pain that comes with slamming bone into whatever plating he's waring.

"I don't think he could handle me." I spat and the Joker's arm was suddenly around my waist. I melted right there, forgetting the party, forgetting the bat, and simply looked at him. He smiled down to me and motioned with his gun.

"Well, I know when I'm not wanted. Let's get out of here, Hm, Sweets?"

I can only nod and grin up at him dreamily.

"Don't trust him, Harley." The Batman was suddenly speaking to me and I frowned. Mr. J's eyes snapped to the hero, all humor gone. His grip tightened on the gun, leather gloves giving off the slightest creak in protest. I barely noticed the pain in his hold, too busy blissing out from his touch. What did Batman know? He was alone, the big emo.

"Get a new song, Hero. This act is old."

Mr. J looked back to me and his smile spread. He spun me around and I squealed happily, yelping when his gun fired. He glanced into the crowd, mouthing an exaggerated "sorry" to the older man he'd accidently shot. I couldn't help my giggle, which gained another approving smile from him before we hurried from the room.

The men were firing and shouting behind us, but I hardly noticed. He was proud of me right now. I'd made him smile three times. THREE. The night couldn't go any better!

Then we jumped into the van.

Mr. J had me pinned; face down, against the bench seat, before I could cry out. My arms were pulled painfully up behind my back, and I heard rustling, like he was messing with his shirt. My heart began hammering, and I let out a soft groan.

"Listen to that." He says as the van lurches into motion. I briefly wonder who else is in the van, but then he's bound my wrists together behind my back with his silk tie. My brain starts to short-circuit after that. The Joker flips me back over and I look up at him, flushed and breathing heavily. If he touches me, I don't think I can contain myself.

"So eager." He draws out the last word, almost purring to me and I bite down on my lip, to stop the moan. I want him right now, and I don't mean as a good friend. I was all racing heart and flashing eyes. I want to curl around him and never let go. When he pulls me across the seat, I instantly throw a leg over his thigh, straddling him and arching into him with a heated sigh. He chuckles softly to himself, before pressing his finger to my lips, pushing me back slightly.

"Aren't we im-patient?" He asks, and I draw his finger into my mouth, nibbling on the pad, and raking him with a heated gaze.

"Some things are worth it." I reply when he pulls back his hand. That gets a strange look, that quickly melts into something primal and recognizable.

Lust.

We barely make it back to the compound, and I'm writhing by then. The Joker lifts me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist, giggling every time we have to stop and peel ourselves off the wall in an effort to get to our room. We seem to hit every surface on our way. He tosses me inside and closes the door, locking it behind him. I watch his coat slither off, and then memorize the vision he makes in this ruffled state. His tie still binding me together, I can only watch as he stalks forward, head low and slams a knife-wielding fist into the cement beside my head. A shudder passes up my spine as I look up into those wild, fathomless eyes. Yes, he looks hungry now. Almost as much as me.

The Joker leans forward and kills me with a rough kiss. My eyes close and I moan into his mouth. God, it's been so long since there was passion here. Since he touched me with more then the intent to satisfy himself.

By now, it's killing me that I can't use my hands to drag him over me, and I suppose that's the point. If this happens, he wants control, and I've been known to get a little overzealous in the past. So I deal, simply happy that he is touching me. His fingers sink into my hair to force back my head, while he gives me a quick scan.

"What would you do, I wonder, if you didn't have me?" he tilts his head slightly, watching my face for reaction. My answer comes immediately, and though I can tell he expected it, it pleases him.

"I would be lost." I admit, pressing into him. His fingers splay across my lower back, and I feel the point of his switchblade there as well. "You're my everything, Mr. J."

"Oh?" Now his grip on my hair tightens, and I let out a soft whimper of pain. "I suppose you love me then?" The way he draws out the word, rolling it around on his tongue, makes me blush with sudden embarrassment. He makes it sound stupid. Foolish. Like something only a child would fall for. But I can't lie to him, that would only make him angry, and we're so close now.

"Answer me, Harley." When my eyes fall, he's quick to yank back my head even further. I gulp and it seems to get lodged in my throat, but this time I know to keep my eyes on him.

"Y..yes." I finally whisper.

"Yes what?" He's going to make me say it now that he knows I'm uncomfortable. Now that he's made it clear what he thinks of my feelings. It's just another way for him to tighten my leash, and I know that, but what can I really do to stop him?

"I.." My voice catches and I have to swallow again, "I love you." Now I break. The dam I so carefully built cracks and everything seems to flow out. I'm crying though I keep it as quiet as possible; and he pretends to care, which only makes it worse.

"Hey…shh, shh…stop." He releases my hair to stroke my cheek. I feel his fingers curl around the tie that still binds my wrists together behind my back. "Harley…hey." When the tiny sobs don't stop, he gives me a light pop across the cheek and I bite my lip. The Joker lifts my chin, searching my eyes.

"Now don't we feel a bit silly?" he asks and I give a small nod, sniffling periodically. Then with a grunt, he pushes back and forces me to move, leading me with my painfully bent arms. Mr. J throws me across the bed and straddles me, bracing himself on the mattress on either side of my head.

"You really are a silly thing, Harleen. Did you know that?"

I only look up at him wide-eyed. Does he really want me to answer, or was it rhetorical?

"Falling for a hor-rible man like me."

Guess it was rhetorical.

"What makes you think I won't turn on you?" he asks and I glance around feeling suddenly vulnerable. I can't see the knife, though I know he's still holding it, and that makes me uneasy.

"But…why would you?" I ask in a tiny voice. Is he going to hurt me? I still can't use my arms.

"If I have a little mood, or one day just sna-p" He pops the P like gum, and smiles. "You can be a little irritating, you know."

I can't stop the fine tremble that's started all over my body, and he glancing down to let me know he hasn't missed it either. When his eyes meet mine again, I can't read his expression, but I know it can't mean anything good for me.

"Beg me, Harley," he says in that low, caressing tone he sometimes used the first week I knew him. "Beg me not to hurt you. Beg me not to kill you."

And I did. With all the fervor of one truly scared. Because I was. Petrified. This might have been a game, but that didn't make it any less dangerous. There was a serious chance that he might kill me tonight, just for the hell of it. And so I pleaded, tears pouring down my face as he parted my legs and went through the motions of violent rape.

I'm sure the Joker could make love, there was no doubt. But he knew I was already his. He didn't have to seduce me. I would do whatever he wished, no matter how degrading.

I was his.

Pulling out with a grunt, he flipped me onto my stomach and cut his tie from my wrists. Then with a snarl, he pinned my arms out above me, forcing my face into the mattress, and growled into my ear.

"Fight me, Harley."

I turned my head, still crying like the worthless animal I was and weakly pushed against him. The Joker wasn't satisfied and released my hands to press his blade against my throat. Instinctively, I froze, lifting my head to escape the blade.

"I said figh-t me." The blade stung across my throat nicking the skin threateningly. "Or should I just end this now? I don't have time for a pathetic. Little. Bitch."

That did it.

With a cry, I shoved up with all my strength and he tipped to the side. The blade cut a shallow line on the side of my throat, but I didn't worry about it now. Instead I flipped over and slapped it from his hand. The Joker's eyes narrowed, but he was smiling. He shot forward and grabbed my wrists, fighting to pin them back on the mattress.

I was running on pure adrenaline now, fighting for what could very well be my life, while he laughed and slapped me around. I didn't stop though. Didn't give up because slowly, I realized what he was doing.

If I was going to stay at his side, I needed to be strong. Like tonight with Batman. I needed to fight for him, or I wasn't useful.

With a new surge of purpose I rolled over him, flipping our positions and grabbed at his arms. He was stronger then me, and of course my victory didn't last long, but it made him laugh again. The Joker threw me off, catching my arm when I broke to run and yanked me back against his chest. He crossed my arms in front of me and held them tightly, giggling when I continued to struggle.

"Yes" He hissed in my ear, nuzzling the back of my neck. My vision was in red now, narrowed and furious as I stared out at the bedroom. He kept my arms locked against my chest easily.

"Yes, Harley. This is ex-act-ly what I want." There were tears in my eyes again, but they were born of frustration and he understood. "I want you like this always. Do you understand? I want you strong."

I answered with a firm jerk and he chuckled. "Huush…I believe you now, Sweetheart. You can stop."

I let exhaustion take over then and slumped back into him. The Joker released my arms to turn me around and kiss me. I kissed back with all my frustration and anger. This time, when he forced himself inside me, I didn't simply take it. I gave back just a fiercely. We clawed at each other and wrestled about, knocking things over in our attempts to subdue the other. It was a play for dominance, and while he won nearly all of our tiny battles, I still managed to pin him once or twice.

It wasn't long before my anger melted to excitement, and the curses and strikes became little more then play. What can I say?

I loved him.

XxX

Mr. J had long since succumbed to exhaustion and lay in a tangle of sheets in our bed. I was draped halfway across his chest, while his arm curled possessively around my back. The news was playing on the small TV set across the room, and I watched it because I could do nothing else. I wasn't going to move and disturb the sleeping clown, so what else was there?

It was something boring, but since I'd lost the remote I couldn't switch it from Gotham News. (I managed to turn it on only by throwing my shoe at the power button) Rich people were talking about ways to get more money blah blah blah. I was half tempted to go back to sleep when I saw it.

One of the younger suits was moving to leave when his friend bumped his side. The handsome guy winced slightly, hand instinctively grasping his gut before he caught himself and jerk it back.

The newscaster laughed brightly. "Looks like the wild bachelor has a bit of a bruise there."

"Well with all the extreme sporting Wayne's known for, it's no wonder." Then the screen cut to a homeless shelter. They might have passed it off, but I wasn't so sure. If I wasn't mistaken, Batman had sustained a similar wound in that area only last night. Could it be that this billionaire was really the Dork Knight? It sure would explain the crazy tank the vigilante had somehow managed to acquire. But I had to be sure.

"Bruce Wayne." I breathed the name.

Well, seems like I'd have lots to do next time Mr. J went out.