Gosh this took forever to post. Sorry about that. But, to make up for it, I've decided to cave to the public cry for a lemon. (lol)

The next chapter will be up with out a doubt by tomorrow with your Joker/Harley smex. For now enjoy!

Also, may I ask that you review. I miss my insight to what you guy wanted from this story. Plus i really looked to your reviews for inspiration. It helps me to find That Place when I know that real, live people with opinions of their own are reading my story.

Side note: To those who will be wondering, I'm referring to Baby Firefly of The Devil's Rejects.

The Joker hadn't seen the picture, and if he had, he just didn't care. I, however, was reeling. Kuklinski knew Tyler. Not only that, but they'd been childhood friends! We were at the van before I'd stopped feeling kinda guilty, (like I always did when I thought of Tyler…which sadly wasn't that often) but then a thought bubbled up into my brain as I was sitting down next to Alec in the back seats.

This explained why Kuklinski seemed to dislike me. I mean, not to sound self-absorbed, but everyone seemed to like me. Hell, even Batman liked me! Maybe Kuklinski knew that his buddy had as well, and saw what it had gotten him. Dumped off the side of the highway like so much rubbish after a slow bout of torture. Yeaahh...I wouldn't like me either.

I jerked to attention when I got cuffed on the back of the head and looked up to find the Joker frowning at me from the side. Thoughts of Tyler and Kuklinski suddenly seemed trivial. What was wrong with me?

"Sir?" I asked, hoping he hadn't said anything while I was spacing. His dark eyes narrowed a moment, then he shoved a large bag into my hands.

"Change." He directed and sat back against the opposite bench, facing me. I might have gotten a little distracted by the hungry look he was giving me, but my eyes scanned over the others in the van.

"Ah, Mr. J…Don't you think-"

"Change."

His voice shot tendrils of cold fear down my spine and I swallowed, nodding. I felt like a dog with its tail between its legs. The image was disturbing; and the fact that I still wore a choke collar didn't really help. I took a breath and dug into the bag for the first item of clothing and glanced around again as I peeled off my shirt.

I'm not sure why I'd been nervous. I probably should have known every guy in the van would turn away with a quick glance at the Joker. He was still gazing impassively at me as I clumsily pulled on a tight, white and red racing shirt and ratty, frayed jeans. As I was lacing my boots back up, I tried to find a loose scrap of clothing, a pocket even, but the denim was wrapped around my legs in a way that showed my every curve. They were still breathable thanks only to the stringy holes that seemed to decorate the whole legs.

Holy shit! If these had been lighter, they could be a dead ringer for Baby's jeans. That made me flare with confidence and pride. Now there was a gal who was worth a damn. I shook myself from my swiftly derailing train of thought, and got back to the problem at hand.

"Uh…Puddin', where do I put my blades?"

The guys were turning back in their seat now that I was clothed and Alec gave me a strange look, followed by a quick once-over. Arching both brows he made a face that said "Meh… Not Bad."Then turned back to the front and scanned the street as a skinny teenaged boy drove and tried not to look terrified. This one was not from Arkham, that's for sure.

The Joker looked at me boredly a moment, then tilted his head to the side, looking at me from the corner of his eye like a dog. "Were you planning on needing them?"

My jaw dropped open in my instinct to fix my mistakes. Whatever we were doing must be a delicate matter. (Though that didn't explain the clothes) I'd been bobbing my mouth like a beached fish for a good couple seconds when he turned forward and fought a tiny grin.

Um…was he…teasing me? I'd seen the smirk before he could hide it back under ferocity, and it was definitely not threatening. I was still puzzling that when he reached out a non-gloved hand and took hold of my wrist; jerking me toward him.

His free hand went into his vest pocket and pulled out a razorblade. He turned my pale wrist upward and held it steady, despite the constant jumbling of the car. This didn't bode well. Or even make sense! What had I done? The Joker brought the razor to my wrist then held it against my skin upright with his thumb while the blade snicked sideways and down. It only made me wince, my eyes snapping up to his. He looked almost bored, which told me he wasn't intentionally trying to slash me, he was just fidgeting.

With a crinkle of paper, he removed a colorful wristband and stretched it over my hand to rest over the razor.

"Ta-da!" he wiggled his fingers around my hidden blade.

"It's gone." I grinned, then sat back against my seat just as High School up front slammed the brakes with a curse.

"Er…sorry 'bout that." He shrugged. "We're…um…here."

oOo

Here was apparently a sleazing strip joint that catered to mobfuls. Mr. J didn't wait for the flustered man who was to be our guide. Instead he just walked right through the crowd… litteraly, they were parting for him. Alec flanked us as we walked across the bar area, and Mr. J tossed his arm around my shoulders. I threaded our fingers casually and walked beside him like it were the most normal thing in the world. Sometimes it was just worth it to see the people's faces when they saw that the Joker really had a girlfriend. Who was attractive. And young.

And alive.

Grinning along with my man, we came to a guarded black door. The bouncer in front of it looked down at the joker from behind black shades (god only knows why he needed them inside this dim cesspool. I mean that in the kindest of ways of course. I could see myself chilling here for an hour.

Mr. J looked up at the guy and tilted his head smiling to himself. "We've got…uh…an appointment," he said. When the guy only stared at him dumbly, Mr. J waved him out of the way and shoved passed him the door into an office.

"What the fuck is going on here?" a stout, little man cried from behind his desk. He was probably in his 50s with blotchy skin and, like, 4 chins. His beady little eyes zipped from his guard, to the Joker, to me, then back on the clown. Though I caught a few side glances my way. After Kuklinski's visceral hatred for me, it was nice to know that I really wasn't a hatchet-face.

"How did you…Why didn't…" but the porker's answers just kept fading as Alec closed the door and shut out the incessant pound of house techno. I moved away from the Joker, already knowing my part. Skimpy clothes, no weapons.

I was the Arm-Candy, and an unsuspecting one at that. While Hefty's mouth bobbed I circled his desk and sat down to his right, crossing my legs and preening. He glanced over nervously, scanning me for weapons and panicking when he couldn't spot them. The Joker stepped forward and held out his arms like he wanted to hug the guy.

"Harold, old buddy, long time no see." He plopped both hands on the desk, scattering papers and leaned toward the big guy. "I hear you have some information for me."

His voice dropped a few octaves then, and Harold's pudgy face went stark white. His beady eyes flicked pleadingly from one man in the room to another as if any would step between him and the psychotic clown.

"Well, I…no. I don't. Kuklinski-" As the Joker stared at him as if he were an idiot, Harold trailed off, and cleared his throat. He glanced at me again and swallowed, but I stopped the hope in his eyes by picking up his letter opener and stroking the sharp tip with the end of my finger. He looked back at the Joker shook his head.

"Mr…Joker, I've only been given this…thing for you." He reached toward me before remembering I was there then jerked back. I was blocking the desk drawer. "Um…" he glanced nervously between the clown and me so I grinned.

"Could'a said please." I turned and sat across his lap, crossing my legs again. "Better?"

"Ah…I'm…um…"

The Joker began tapping his fingers on the table, though the sound was muted by his gloves. Harold snapped back to attention and reached over me to get to the drawer. He pulled out an envelope and handed it out, trembling violently, to the Joker.

Ok. I know my Puddin's intimidating and all, but geez! Show a little spine!

"Ku-Kuklinskisaid ta give 'em to you." Harold shuddered pathetically. Mr. J snatched the envelope and ripped it open letting the contents spill onto the desk. With a coo, I grabbed one of the pictures off the top,(A shot of Gotham's newest bank) while the Joker took a printed letter, signed by the Italian.

"He said the deal would happen here…well, in the back. All the law here is already paid for. You two shouldn't be bothered."

Damn, did that wop organize quick! I met the Joker's eyes a moment then jumped off of the big guy, giving him a little wave. Mr. J pulled me up beside him and handed me the letter without looking at it. I scanned it after a brief moment of surprise that I hoped Harold hadn't noticed. I doubted it by the way the sweat was pouring down the sides of his pudgy face was he gazed at his bodyguard encouragingly. I brought it to the Joker's attention by pointedly looking between the two. His black eyes snapped over to the bodyguard then back to Harold and he laughed a bit.

"Well, Harold, you wouldn't mind if we waited here, would you?"

I think Harold wished he could sink into his chair at the moment, but he was just too fat. The poor guy gave and jerky nod, then attempted to smile.

oOo

By 3 O'clock that morning we had Harold in tears. Mr. J never physically hurt him. Well…not badly. I was laying on my stomach with my chin propped in my hand. My feet kicked idly above me and I fiddled with Harold's hair while the Joker leaned on the back of the chair behind him. They'd had a wonderful chat over the course of the evening about allies.

Which ones where the smart choice to have. How Harold had worked for Kuklinskifor three years, and had never grow his business beyond what the rick Italian allowed it to be. We all came to the conclusion that our porky friend wanted to work for the Joker now, instead of the alternative.

Which, to his defense, involved a wooden barrel, starving rats and the Gotham bay.

Tough choice, that.

We were just toasting Harold's newest career move when Alec knocked on the door and came inside.

"It's about time, boss."

As we moved to the door, I noticed Alec was looking a little disheveled. His collar was pulled open on one side and his buttons weren't lined up. I matched pace with him and elbowed him in the side.

"Does the Joker know you were fraternizing instead of at your post?"

The Brit chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "That obvious huh?"

I smirked and arched a brow. "At least tell me she was a consenting adult."

He made a regretful expression and shrugged. "I can verify the consent, but one of them was a bit hesitant."

I feigned indignation and slapped his arm while he grinned. I have no doubt he was telling the truth.

When we got outside, the Italians were already there. They gathered in one entrance of the huge back-alley, gun holstered until we were in sight. Our own boys responded with a waterfall like sound of a few dozen automatic weapons cocking behind us.

Kuklinski came out of the center with a dark expression. There were terse greetings and he motioned to his men with a jerk of his head. 7 large, black, gym bags were carried out to us the stacked between our segregated "teams".

Something felt wrong here. Kuklinski was pacing like some sort of caged beast, his eyes on the Joker and narrowed. Mr. J had noticed before me and was already watching the man with a calculating expression that made me a little nervous.

"So, Dick, while we're here, we might as well be civil. Don't you agree?"

Kuklinski's fingers curled into a fist at his side and the knuckles quickly turned white. What was his problem tonight…besides the obvious? The Joker titled his head a little and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"How's the wife?" he pushed. It seemed to be exactly enough to tip the guy over his personal cliff. With a growl, he clenched his jaw and turned to the Joker. Above us the sky had grown dark and there was a crack of thunder. Fine drizzle quickly became pouring rain in a matter of minutes and the tension in the alley was suddenly wire tight.

"Enough!" Kuklinski boomed. "This is it. No more little favors. I won't get involved with a man like you."

He sounded like some righteous business man. Had he forgotten he was a slime-ball mob boss?

"Now Dick…"Mr. J took a slow breath and shook his head regretfully, "I don't think that would be in Teresa's beest interest."

Kuklinski made a horrible sound, much like a sob, but harsher. He sounded like some wounded animal and I took a instinctual step back while the Joker only frowned. When Kuklinski raised his head, his eyes were red from fighting and loosing against his devastated tears.

"We can cut the shit now." He smiled tightly, his disgust plain to see. "I already know I'm not getting my Teresa back." His voice wavered slightly on the last part and he gazed into the ground blankly.

"Oh?" was all the Joker said for a moment before glancing around. "And…uh…why's that?"

The sorrow suddenly became seething hatred as Kuklinski met his eyes. "Because the police just found my daughter...stashed in a manhole, in the park. They said…"he made a miserable noise, "she'd been there for a few days at the least."

I looked over at the Joker in wonder. That would defiantly explain the lack of small child noises at the compound.

The next events really took me by surprise. Things seemed to happen in slow motion, but in the long run I can only blame myself.

"Well, it looked like he made the right decision seeing as you turned on us anyway." It was childish and stupid and really, I might deserve what I got. Even Mr. J's brows rose a bit under his smearing greasepaint. Kuklinski eyed me a moment, seemed almost lost for word that I could be so cold. Then he nodded. Before anyone knew what was happening, he calmly pulled out his gun, aimed at me, and fired.