A/N: Thanks again to prankstergangster83, Koteeva and all the guest reviewers! Your feedback is always so wonderful to read!
19.
Harley waited for the pair of guards to stroll away down the corridor before rounding the corner. She moved swiftly, not wanting to waste any time as she stalked towards the heart of D block where the cells resided. Tonight had to go right, digging her way out of the trouble she'd land in if they were caught would be near impossible and she had no desire to try. She needed to execute this flawlessly, there wasn't any other option.
'Doctor, doctor come here, I need a doctor. Pleeease.' The whine of the first patient who noticed her set off the others, a chorus of shouts and jeers quickly picking up on either side of her as she walked. Harley tuned them all out, counting the cell numbers until she reached the Joker's new address.
Heart hammering heavily in her chest, she stepped up to the small window. He was waiting for her, standing next to his cot dressed in the typical grey Arkham issued trackies. There was a thick shadow that fell across his face, obscuring his expression, but when teeth emerged in the darkness Harley knew he must be smiling.
Hastily, she popped the top off the coffee that George had brought her earlier and fished around in the cold liquid for the keys. It had been smart of him not to bring her an empty cup, if for some reason she'd been stopped and questioned it would've made hiding the fact that she was in possession of the precious bits of metal hopeless. As it was, they were totally concealed by the brown coffee, which also cushioned them enough that they didn't clink against each other. She really needed to give George more credit, that kid was smarter than he looked.
Harley's fingers closed around the top of something solid, and she pulled it out, examining the key until she was sure it was the right one. Wiping the sticky metal on the tissue she'd had the foresight to stuff in her pocket, she slid the key into the lock, twisting it sharply until she heard a soft click.
With steady hands, she pulled open the door, face set with determination. He wanted her to prove herself? Game on.
The Joker stepped forwards, tongue prodding his scarred cheeks as he regarded her thoughtfully. After a few seconds she whispered, 'Come on,' beckoning him with the incline of her hand as she headed back down the corridor.
He loped after her silently, allowing her to take the lead. Bright overhead LEDs lit their way as they moved through the maze of paint and concrete, a cleaning agent smell lingering in the air. His feet made almost no noise on the concrete floor, and Harley turned her head a few times as they walked just to double check he was still behind her and hadn't snuck off somewhere.
Conversation up ahead made her stop in her tracks. As she listened, the sound of voices got louder, followed by a jumbled radio message from a walkie talkie. 'Pshhh canteen patrol come in pshhh.' Whoever it was they were definitely heading this way. Fuck.
Harley spun on her heel and grabbed the Joker's hand, pulling him down a utility corridor. She flattened herself against the yellow cinder blocks and he stoically followed suit, slowly putting his back against the wall beside her.
She fought the urge to hold her breath as the guards approached, but they passed without even glancing her way, chatting about how much of a bitch Cash had been in that morning's briefing. When the coast was clear, the Joker peeled himself off the wall, coming to stand behind her almost too close to be considered strictly professional. She glanced up at him, a question on the tip of her tongue. His dark gaze was trained on her, looking at her with a magnetic look that sucked her in, until it felt like all she could see were his eyes.
She blinked at him, almost forgetting how to breathe for a second or two as they stood chest to chest, locked in a staring contest that felt less like a competition and more like a dare. The air around them got heavier, a strange feeling starting to pool in her stomach.
With more will power than she'd like to admit, Harley reluctantly stepped backwards, putting some much needed distance between them. 'Let's go.' She murmured, trying to get her brain in gear so she could calculate when to expect the next patrol.
They resumed their journey, Harley following the mental map she'd constructed yesterday with the Joker in tow, still yet to say a word. As they navigated the winding corridors, she became acutely aware of his eyes on her back, every movement feeling like it was being watched. It was odd to hold his attention for so long, thrilling in a way. A blush spread across her cheeks, heat rising to the surface of her skin. She thanked her lucky stars that the roof would be dark so he wouldn't be able to see, for some reason slightly embarrassed of her body's reaction.
Eventually they reached the stairwell, and Harley pushed the blue door open and stepped through. The Joker ambled in behind her, ducking his head as he passed under the low doorframe. As her companion scrutinised his surroundings, Harley began trotting up the stairs, conscious of the danger that staying in one place for too long could have.
The grimy steps took them up several floors until they reached the door to the roof. Again, she dipped her fingers into the disposable coffee cup and fiddled around for the next key. She pulled out the slim piece of metal and pushed it into the lock as the Joker loomed over her shoulder like an enormous shadow, his proximity making the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.
With a snap, the bolt slid out of place and she gave the door a vicious shove, the same kind she used on her apartment door when it stuck. After a few tries, the stiff hinges did their job and the wood shuddered and swung outwards.
The cold night breeze hit their faces as they stood at the roof's threshold, the inky sky glinting with stars above them. Harley stepped outside first, crouching so as not to draw the attention of the nearest guard tower. As quietly as she could, she crept to the low wall that ringed the roof and sunk to the ground behind it, sitting down with her back against the bricks.
The Joker slid into place next to her, lanky legs sprawled out in front of him. They sat there for a few moments, neither one of them moving to speak. Harley began to feel increasingly exposed, hyper aware that at any point they could be discovered. Would anyone notice he wasn't in his cell? What if someone had come into the surveillance room with George and seen them sneaking about? Was the alarm about to start blaring? That deafening sound screaming from the sirens around the complex, spotlights bursting into life?
As her thoughts began to run away from her, the Joker casually began rolling up the sleeves of his grey sweatshirt, exposing his forearms to the chilly night.
Harley turned her head to look at him, surprised to see that he was totally at ease, like they were sat behind any old wall and not potentially moments away from catastrophe. His breathing was even, chest rising and falling steadily as he tipped his head backwards to take in the full expanse of the dark sky.
'Aren't you cold?' She asked, regretting the question as soon as it left her mouth.
He huffed in response, eyes still trained upwards. She wondered how long it had been since he'd been outside, certainly over a month thanks to his stint in solitary. Was it weird for him to be sat here out in the open? Had he missed it after being cooped up for so long?
Slowly, the Joker rolled his head to look at her, fixing her with a heavy lidded stare. 'Stop thinking so much.' He muttered. When she automatically opened her mouth to object he turned his head forwards again and closed his eyes. 'You get a crease in your forehead when you're thinking Harls. Dead giveaway.'
'Oh.' Surprised he'd picked up on that at all, Harley relaxed the frown she hadn't even realised she'd had, trying to loosen up a bit.
'Did you bring the cigarettes?' He asked, eyes still closed.
'Of course.' She mumbled, plunging her hand into her lab coat pocket. After a second of fumbling she withdrew the pack of Marlboro Golds that she'd purchased from some rundown corner store on the way into work and pressed them into his outstretched palm along with a shiny red clipper.
With a deft flick of his thumb, he slid the packet open and popped a cigarette between his lips. The lighter sparked into life, producing a thin red flame that licked the tip of the tobacco until it burned bright like a hot cherry. Harley watched in fascination as he took a long drag, filling his lungs with smoke and breathing it out in a thick plume, tiny wisps leaking from his nostrils.
He looked a picture, face contoured with shadows from the lit cigarette and green hair tumbling over his shoulders in a messy mane. Aware she was staring, Harley crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
'You uh, want one?' The question hung in the air for a second.
Harley knitted her brows together. 'I don't smoke.' She replied, eyes fixed on the red ember that glowed as he sucked in another lungful.
'Just like you don't break out max patients?' He drawled, amusement flickering in his black eyes. 'Come on, it'll help you relax.'
She chewed her lip, tugging the skin between her teeth. Smoking had never been something that appealed to her, the idea of cancer a huge deterrent. But for some reason, she felt tempted, perhaps because the Joker was offering to share, which due to his pathology shouldn't come easy to him. Flattered and hesitant to snub the unusual gesture, Harley decided to throw caution to the wind. This night was certainly full of exceptions, why not?
She reached for a cigarette and slipped it into her mouth, closing her lips around the filter. The Joker passed her the lighter, his hand brushing her palm as he dropped the plastic object into it. She brought the gift up to her face and pressed the gas pedal, her palm tingling with an unfamiliar energy from where their skin had made contact.
He smirked when it took her cold fingers a few attempts to get a flame, watching her with vague interest as she finally lit her cigarette and took a drag. It felt peculiar, but totally doable. Harley exhaled, looking to him for confirmation that she'd done it right.
He shuffled closer, shoulder almost touching hers. 'You need to inhale twice to get the smoke down into your lungs.' He murmured, voice husky with tobacco.
She watched as he demonstrated, sucking in smoke, then pausing for effect and taking in another breath. That didn't look so hard. She followed his lead, this time the warm tendrils entered her chest, making her cough.
He chuckled lowly as she sputtered next to him. 'Shhh, shhh, don't give us away Harls.'
'Sorry,' She gasped as she tried to catch her breath. Her second attempt went better, now that she knew what she was doing and she smiled, blowing a grey cloud out through her mouth.
They smoked together in silence, with an occasional cough from Harley, as the moon rose further up over the asylum.
When he was done, he stubbed the butt out on the concrete and flicked it away. Harley watched it skitter across the roof, coming to rest in a small puddle of this morning's rainwater a few metres away from them.
When he held his hand out towards her, she pulled the half-finished cigarette from her mouth and handed it to him, confused but willing to go along with it. He grinned and tossed hers away as well. 'The phone Harley.' He drawled, eyebrows raised.
'Oh, oh.' The blush was back, searing her cheeks as she pulled out the flip phone he'd requested yesterday and passed it over.
He threw open the screen and scrolled until he found the camera. Holding the phone up, he snapped a picture of the two of them with the Arkham rooftops as a background. Tapping out a number into the messaging icon, he sent the image to an unfamiliar contact and closed the phone, before breaking it under his heel.
'If you don't uphold your end, that picture will make its way into the papers.' He informed her, face blank. She was sure that it wasn't an empty threat, the seriousness in his expression telling her this was no joke.
Harley nodded, she didn't need him to elaborate to understand what bad news that would be for her.
Satisfied with her comprehension, he slumped back against the wall, depositing a second cigarette in his mouth. When he held another orange and white stick out to her, she lent forwards, taking it between her lips. He picked up the clipper, lighting hers and then his own.
'I knew you were a smoker.' She said, thinking out loud as they puffed on the cigarettes. 'I guessed the first time I heard you speak.'
He looked over to her, saying nothing as his gaze found hers.
The rest of what she was about to say dried up in her throat, her breath stolen by the look on his face. It was so intense, those eyes burning with a cold black fire.
He licked his lips, tongue darting out to flick the scar running up through his cheek. Her vision zeroed in on the movement, focusing on the curve of his mouth. It was like the world around them seemed to slow down, everything else fading into the background. He dipped his face towards hers, the barest of movements and her stomach summersaulted, her pulse fluttering against her skin.
Then he clenched his jaw, the muscles bulging, and the strange connection broke as his head rolled back to rest on the bricks.
'Take me back to my cell.' He murmured. 'We're done here.'
A/N: Ooo, what did you think of that? Don't hesitate to let me know what you think in the reviews!
Next time: Failsafe's established, the deal progresses…