It took a week before her injuries finally started to fade away. The bruising around her nose and under her eyes had turned a sickening brown and yellow, before it finally meshed with the cream colour of the rest of her skin.
She stared deeply at herself in the mirror before sighing and pulling away. Her hair was lying down by her shoulders albeit she took her hairbrush and began to brush it out, smoothing it down and trying to make it neater to compensate for how messy she felt. After she had completed the task it still seemed wrong and so she ruffled her hair and messed it up once again.
Exiting the bathroom she came face to face with the Joker, who was perched on the end of the bed. Her breath hitched as the room had been empty when she had entered the bathroom, however she recovered and approached him confidently. She didn't feel the fear of being near him anymore, he hadn't raised his voice or laid a finger on her since they had been sparring last week. In fact he had been nothing but gentlemanly towards her; he would be busy at his desk looking over plans and scheming up ideas most of the day and so she would go about her life, carefully wandering the hideout or using the gym to practise her gymnastics. Mr J had invested in uneven bars and a balance beam for her to use, and so that would keep her preoccupied for most of the day.
She had previously worried about how the henchmen would treat her, however because of the Joker's warnings they now avoided her, not even shooting her a glance. It grew unnerving to her as though they weren't being abusive, they didn't show her any friendliness or invite her to watch TV with them. With her lover spending most of the day busy, Harley found herself spending most of her time alone and it wasn't quite what she was expecting. She was yearning for something more exciting. Wasn't a life of crime supposed to be that? When would she be able to actually show herself to the world?
They'd started showing stories of her on GCN, the local Gotham news station. At first they'd only said to look out for a Dr Harleen Quinzel, who was assumed missing; it was a smaller story but had been amplified by the fact that she had been working at Arkham as the Joker's main doctor. Her Arkham ID photo had been used as reference and she'd giggled at how silly and uptight she looked. The newer stories had started after she had been missing five days without any appearances, making it unlikely that she was still alive. This coupled with the fact that the Joker had been out of Arkham at the time and the absolute state of her apartment had led the news to spin the story that she had been kidnapped by the clown and that the search would be desperate to find her safe.
Every once in a while she would be called up to the bedroom as the clown gave her a list of things - usually junk food - to get as quickly as possible. In those instances she was glad to have something to do with herself and to make her love happy was a huge bonus. She had watched the forementioned story on a local convenience store TV with a smirk, face hidden behind a dark wig and glasses. Once the story died down she'd be able to get out of the hideout without the cliche disguise, however for now it would have to do if she wanted to please her boyfriend.
Could she call him her boyfriend? She wasn't quite sure what they were and she was worried that it was too early to ask. With the lack of anything happening in the hideout she was beginning to worry that he was already getting bored with her.
But now - standing so close to him all of a sudden - she felt her face flushing red. She pushed a disheveled strand of blonde hair behind her ear and chewed her lip.
He was sat down but soon pulled her into his lap, placing kisses and bites on her neck before meeting her blue eyes with his bright acid green ones. He raised a dark green eyebrow at her and used a hand to turn her face to look at him.
"Why so sheepish, cupcake?" he asked lightly.
She gave a sigh and walked her fingers along his chest. He was wearing purple pinstripe trousers with an orange Hawaiian button up shirt. "I'm bored, baby. I'm sick of the news spouting that I'm kidnapped and not that I'm with you willingly. When do I get to show my true self?" she asked, her voice almost a childish whine as she pouted at him.
His eyes observed her closely. "Soon, pumpkin pie. Which reminds me - I have your costume." he replied, a grin lining his lips on the second sentence.
Her eyes lit up. "I get my own costume? Oh Mr J it's perfect!" she yelped, giggling manically as she kicked out her legs and arms like a child, unable to contain her excitement.
"You haven't even seen it yet." he replied flatly, albeit with a smirk.
She flung her arms around his neck and plastered kisses all over his face. "Oh but puddin', anything you put out is perfect! Ah! My own costume! Oh I'm gonna plotz!" she jeered and giggled.
His face hardened as he shoved her backwards off of his knee. "Don't ever call me that again." he snapped, glaring down at her on the floor. This demeanour immediately changed as he rose to his feet and stretched out his arms. "Now come on, you'll have to try it on."
Harley was thrown off by his sudden change in emotions and so lay there for a second in a heap, however she soon sprung up when she saw him heading quickly out of the door. She attempted to keep pace as he turned a corner, heading in a strange direction deeper into the hideout. It was a dark walk and so she was never been curious enough to look down it herself, finding herself sticking right behind the clown as the lights flickered on overhead. The experience was almost like being back at Arkham.
He opened a creaking door to reveal a medium sized room, more exactly a storage room for odd bits and pieces. There were guns and sharp weapons here correct, however there were also props and gags like whoopee cushions and spare bang flags for fake guns. She approached them but didn't touch anything, with the knowledge that a man like the Joker could turn any of these harmless looking jokes into a bomb or booby trap. Instead her gaze was redirected to a purple and green box in the corner of the room, with to Harley written neatly on an oversized label.
She gave him a look to confirm that this was what he wanted her to open, and with that successfully done she skipped excitedly over to the box, untying the comical large box and throwing the lid off behind her head somewhere. This revealed the content of the gift: a costume of red and black, one in a harlequin diamond fashion she realised as she picked it up. The material was shiny but felt soft in her hands as she stroked a thumb again it.
Her lip dropped loose and she looked over at the man. "It's beautiful." she breathed, her eyes almost twinkling with tears.
He had lit up a cigarette. "Come on, let's see it on you." he responded casually. As she picked it up out of the box he added: "Oh and I guessed your measurements so let me know if it fits. Everything has to be perfect for this next show."
She let out a noise of excitement as she ducked behind a french dressing screen to the side of the room. He had seen her naked, however she wanted him to see her all dolled up in her costume at the end when she was ready. Her clothes were off quickly and she slipped on the catsuit, admiring the way it clung to her skin so naturally. It zipped up at her back and she added the silk collar around her neck comfortably with it fitting the form of her bosom, the white pom-poms dangling there so delicately. White ruffles were worn on her wrists, along with a red and black jester hat on her head, with her blonde hair tucked into the liliripes.
There wasn't a mirror and so was unsure how she looked when she stepped out from behind the screen. The Joker had been taking a drag on his cigarette and focusing his gaze on a crack on the wall, however the sound of her soft footsteps brought his attention onto her. His eyes widened along with the grin on his face, his white teeth baring.
She blushed under his stare and chewed her lip. "What? Does it look okay?" she asked, hopping from foot to foot nervously.
He gave a sudden and loud cackle, rushing towards her and seizing her by the hips. His grin was dangerously large as he turned her around in his arms, observing every inch of the costume. There was a moment of silence after her question as he trailed a hand along the fabric, igniting sparks in the skin underneath.
After a long while he appeared in front of her and gave another burst of laughter. "Oh, baby. It looks more than okay." he began, raising a hand to hold her face. "Just slap on some paint and yes..."
He turned on his heel and crossed the room to a vanity table, opening the drawer and rummaging through it for something specific. His hands closed around a bottle of something and started back toward her. She realised it was white greasepaint when he began applying it messily to her face, his long fingers making quick work of her smaller features.
He pulled away when she presumed he had finished. His smile was large and overtly amused, and she almost drew back from the pressure of his stare; he spun her around and released her, crossing the room to an object in front of her, cloaked by a bedsheet. He pulled it off to reveal it was a mirror and her eyes fell upon her reflection.
The costume fit her perfectly. It was near scary just how beautiful she felt, even dressed as a red and black jester girl. She gawped at the mirror with an open mouth.
He slinked around her, wrapping his arms around her and standing tall behind her in the reflection. Into her ear he chuckled.
"That's her. That's my Harley Quinn."