The Bargain

Author's Note: Some time has passed since I wrote last time, so I bring you another fic: Poison Ivy and Scarecrow come to deal in which they ensure that they have a successor that can follow in their footsteps. This plot is my own, and I hope that this is an original idea. None of the characters belong to be, but to Warner Bros and DC Comics. Only the child is my creation. Enjoy!

Jonathan gasped for breath as he woke up in the middle of the night, sweating. He had dragged himself out of his dream with great effort and was still trying to put the correct pieces in order with what had happened.

He crawled to the side of his bed and put a shaky hand onto the bedstead and picked up the clock. He peered through the darkness to see the time, only to find out that it was 1.30 am. He put it down and slumped his head back onto the soft pillow.

Jonathan didn't have these dreams for a long time and tried to put them out of his head. Trying to get back to sleep, his head buzzed with a strange D. H. Lawrence poem he had once read a long time ago, by the name of 'Mosquito':

Yet what an aura surrounds you;

Your evil little aura, prowling, and casting a numbness on my mind.

That is your trick, your bit of filthy magic:

Invisibility, and the anaesthetic power

To deaden my attention in your direction.

Realizing that he won't fall asleep soon, Jonathan got up out of bed and went downstairs into the kitchen. The nights were getting warmer with the upcoming summer days that were flying up very fast. That is why he now wore a nightshirt that came up to his knees and left the rest of the leg bare and to cool down.

He must have been in the kitchen for about five minutes, drinking on his glass of water, when he heard someone else coming down the stairs to join his company.

Out of instinct, he tensed up, but when he saw who came in, he relaxed. It was Pamela.

'Couldn't sleep?' came her soft voice from the kitchen entrance.

Jonathan shrugged,' I didn't have good dreams. How did you wake up?'

Pamela gave a small smile, 'I have plant instincts. When the lights are on, I also get up with them.'

She slowly walked to the fridge and served to herself some water. That was probably the only liquid she ever drank, like a plant- water. She sat down on the other side of the table and drank in silence.

During this time, Jonathan carefully avoided her eyes. He was thinking again about what they discussed tonight. It wouldn't stop bothering him.

'A penny for your thoughts?' offered Pamela.

'I am thinking what you talked with me before,' Jonathan now looked up at her and met her eyes,' about not having any contact.'

'You still thinking about that?' Pamela asked amusedly, getting up and putting the empty cup in the sink,' You know we just have no feelings for each other.'

Jonathan felt his heart beat faster as he got up and tried to talk to her,' Yes, but how do you know we have no feelings when we never even thought about it.'

Pamela turned to him, her eyes serious, 'What are you aiming at?'

It was now the time to be brave. Maybe for anyone else it would have been easy, but for a person like Jonathan who never talked about this before, it was certainly difficult,' I have always wanted to touch your hair,' he said, stepping closer,' And I never even realized it until now.'

'You may touch it if you want,' said Pamela lightheartedly, not understanding him,' I won't kill you for that.'

Jonathan put a hand on her red hair and touched it. It was softer than he imagined. Her good-natured smile disappeared as he ran his hand down to the angle of her chin bone.

'Pamela, you don't understand,' he found his voice reduced to a whisper,' it is not only your hair I want to touch….'

She immediately jerked her head out of his hand and turned away, saying coldly,' Jonathan, please do not be ridiculous. There is no way that you have an interest in me-'

Pamela found her hand grabbed harshly by her husband. She turned back, and saw that his eyes were darker than she ever saw them before.

'How do you know that?' he asked, his voice as silent as the night air.

'Jonathan, please release my hand,' Pamela warned, something constricting in her throat.

'I have never thought about such an option….'

'Please!'

'I have never imagined that I would bring myself to such low emotions.'

'You're hurting me!'

He now had her pressed to the wall, and he lowered his face closer to hers as if he were telling to her something of confidence.

'This pressure, Pamela. This pressure inside is strangling me, pulling me into a prison and it is annoying as a mosquito.'

'Release me!' she hissed, becoming more frantic.

He pressed himself onto her, forcing her legs up around his waist, riddling her nightgown up to her knees. She felt him, his warmth, and she was truly becoming afraid. Had it been when she was still a criminal, this would have never happened, for the male would have found himself poisoned by her lipstick.

'I hate it Pamela. I am disgusted by it plaguing my mind with such thoughts, and now it is getting the better of me.'

Pamela tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but couldn't. Whatever that got the hold of him now….. she had to wait for it to pass.

'I tried to suppress it. I tried to kill it. The only outcome from that were thinking about you even more.' He surprised himself by lowering his voice to a growl. She had fear in her eyes, and just like as in the old times, he reveled in her fear. He was the God of Fear again, and she was the victim.

People sick in the body may heal physically, but once a disease gets the mind there is no turning back. It may be suppressed, yet it is always there.

He could now smell her fear and unease. It was enough to give him courage to kiss her forehead. Seeing that nothing happened, he boldly moved onto her cheek, that paled with his actions. Finally, he pressed his lips onto hers.

Jonathan never kissed before, not even at their wedding. He only learned that kissing was pressing lips onto another's and there was nothing to it. Pamela felt his inexperience as he only pressed his lips onto hers and didn't do anything else.

The kiss was also the action that sobered him.

As if awakening from a hypnotized state, Jonathan blinked and observed the position they were in. He had his wife pressed to the wall, her legs forcibly encircling his waist and she had shrunk from his gaze, patiently waiting for this to pass.

Almost immediately he moved away from her, all emotions gone. Pamela stood there, shaking and breathing heavily. The she left the room and went upstairs as fast as she can.

Jonathan was left alone in the room. All emotions had disappeared, but when he tried to remember them, a sudden sickness rushed up his throat. He had never felt this way, never lost so much control. He was ashamed of these emotions which he never wanted to face again. The more he thought about Pamela, the more he wanted to tear them out of his body.

He didn't experience them before, and if he had, he thought they were rooted out long ago. Now they are pestering him, taunting him in waves of their unhealthy pestilence.

Going upstairs and settling back into bed, he finally realized what the pressure he had was. It wasn't anger. He wished it were hate. It would have been better if it was love, but it wasn't.

It was one of the seven sins, one of the things that made a human become more related to its animal cousins. It was the thing that led many great men in the past into disaster.

It was raw lust.

Back at Harley's house, Harleen Quinzel was definitely not having a good time. It was just like any ordinary night she had at her home.

The children were sent up to bed, and her husband Jervis would long for some company and try to talk to her. Harleen, as usual, was not interested.

'Look Jervis, can ya just go to sleep?' she asked tiredly.

'But my sweet girl, I just wanted to have a bit of a conversation with you,' Jervis said sadly. Harley knew she shouldn't be so cold to him, for he was a very caring husband and good father. But she was never interested in him.

She had gotten married to him when the Joker left her and she had nowhere to go. Jervis was the only one who shared her sympathies and showed her kindness, something that her Mistah J would never do.

Harley gladly received such affection and actually felt she achieved something great. Even through all this coddling and understanding words, she missed her Puddin'.

The Joker had hit her, ordered her around and humiliated her, but he had the masterful aura she was attracted passionately to, which Jervis Tetch most certainly didn't have. Jervis was the more quiet, tea-drinking person who was attached to the home.

'Jervis, can you just please go to sleep,' Harley said more harshly to him.

Jervis' blue eyes became more sad, and he lowered them down to the floor,' Alright. I'll wait for you upstairs.' Then, with slow, heavy footsteps that would make anyone feel sorry for him, he went off.

Harley let out a deep breath. She was finally alone!

She skipped (a trait she never bothered to get rid of) to the balcony and stood there, looking out to Gotham at night. There were only tall, dark buildings seen with small lights glinting like little jewels encrusted in them. Harley missed this city.

As she inhaled the fresh night, she stopped in mid-breath when she thought she heard something. She turned around and looked back into the living room inside. The lights have been turned off.

'Jack? Alice?' she spoke,' I told ya to go to sleep. What did ya come down here and turn the lights off for?'

When she received no answer, she tried again in a more quiet voice,' Jervis?'

No answer. Uncertainly, she stepped back inside and peered into the darkness.

'Hello?' she asked, becoming a bit nervous.

'Harley……' came a soft voice behind her.

She immediately turned. No one was there.

'Harley….' The voice came again, but this time in front of her. No one was also there. Harley's breathing quickened and she plucked up courage to say something

'Stop kiddin' me!' she snapped,' If ya want something, then get out where I can see you!'

'But my dear Harley-girl, don't you remember me?' came the familiar voice in a sweet mock-insulted tone she heard before.

'What?' she gasped. It couldn't be……

' You are still the same sweet, silly girl I knew,' the voice around her spoke,' Now go and turn on the lights and wish your baby a welcome back.'

Harley actually stumbled backwards and fumbled with her fingers to reach the switch. When she did, she pressed it. The room was lit, and in the middle of it was standing a person she had been missing all her life.

'Mistah J?' she squealed in joy.

Author's Note: The Joker's back! I hope this didn't sound like a soap opera to you readers. Tell me if the 'meeting' between Crane and Isley is too much for PG-13. Read the work 'Mosquito' and try to analyze its work. I think it suits this chapter. A nice review would be appreciated!