The aftermath of her interview seemed to fly by, The Joker stepping away and demanding she get cleaned up and Deegan work at clearing the venue floor of bodies. Harley was thankful that all the floors were tiled, as despite how much she tried, her moving to one of the many green rooms left a trail of Scott's blood, a reminder of the violence she had found herself in the middle of.
She stopped at the green room simply labeled number three, taking the opportunity to decompress and clean up in it because it was her favorite of the five in total. Tony had been very slowly updating the rooms since obviously his finances didn't allow him to do it quickly and this one was the only one left untouched. It had dark red walls, and a black and white checkerboard tile floor. It was narrow but long, and the other end was just a giant mirror with a vanity table attached. To the left was one of the reasons she loved the room as it had several dressing racks that held various costumes and getups that had been mostly untouched over the years.
She had heard from others that before Tony had taken ownership of the place, small plays and other shows would happen at the Variety. Tony also never changed the name which made her think that the name came from the Variety shows that seemed to mostly fade away during the 80s, shows she remembered her mom and grandparents referencing. Harley once found a tiny suit in the room, made for a puppet, lost in the masses of human-sized clothes and she liked to imagine somehow Gonzo from the Muppets had stopped by once. It was a silly thought but it made her giggle anytime it drifted through her head.
On the right was why she needed the green room, though it was outdated and a little dingy, a private restroom was attached that included a small shower. It wasn't used often anymore, as many traveling comedians these days had time to prep in the hotels their managers had set up, but it was still nice to have.
Harley kicked off her bloody shoes and stepped in, the tile cold against her feet and she started the water, knowing it took a while for the water to get warm in this building. Stripping off her soaked clothes, she tossed them in the waste bin and tied up the garbage bag. She grimaced at the thought of having to ask someone, most likely Deegan, about how to handle the bloody garments as she honestly had no idea.
Stepping into the shower, facing away from the stream and letting the glass door slide into place, she slumped over. Though she was unharmed, the stress and acrobatics had made her back muscles tight and the hot water helped them loosen. Looking down, she saw the clear water take on a murky brick color and she decided that meant it was time to get to work on cleaning her body as thoroughly as possible. She used up all the mediocre travel-sized body products that were in the shower and still didn't feel clean enough. She'd just have to shower later at her apartment, as the water was already turning cold. Of course, the water heater in this place hadn't been part of Tony's updates. Turning off the water and reaching out for one of the red towels that were stacked on a shelf nearby, she wrapped herself quickly. The colder air already causing her to shiver.
Stepping back into the green room, she plopped down on the cushioned stool in front of the vanity. Her reflection showed that her face had been cleared of all the blood but her makeup had smeared badly, dark circles taking over her eyes from the eyeliner and mascara. She frowned slightly, not liking how her appearance seemed to be showing the cracks she felt internally. Harley instantly started to dig through the drawers that sat on either side of her legs. They were annoyingly filled with random items, she dug through handkerchiefs, CDs, bobby pins, random scraps of papers which were mostly old flyers, but nothing that she could use to clean up the smeared eye makeup.
Huffing, she continued to search through them, letting her hands pull out some hair ties and setting them in front of her. No hairbrush though, and digging further in the bottom right drawer she pulled out some lipstick and set it on the vanity as well. Harley went to the bottom left drawer and felt her fingers brush against something soft and round. 'Aha!' It felt like it could be a makeup sponge or even better a mass of unused cotton balls. Pulling it out her face dropped, it was neither and she only studied the ironically discovered bright red clown's nose for a second before flinging it away towards the costumes, wanting it away for her sight. Huffing yet again she angrily stared back at herself, letting her head rest against her balled-up fists, smushing her cheeks upwards.
Harley couldn't look at herself anymore and put her attention towards the random lipstick, opening it she saw that it was a deep wine color, so deep that it could almost be black. It was a beautiful shade and she examined it intently, 'I mean the germs on it must've died by now, right?' Harley could imagine herself splitting into various personalities, this newer Harley Quinn urging her to do it, who died from putting on lipstick? While younger, more solemn wannabe medical professional Harleen scolded her for such silly indulgences. Shrugging, she began to put it on, she had already faced death and been plastered in blood, mystery lipstick wasn't gonna do her in and if it did, it sure would be funny.
The Joker had gone through several of the rooms of this place, disappointed in how little personality it had. After making a few calls, mostly to get Frost in and his other goons here to close up shop. He barely paid attention as Deegan dug through the pockets of dead vomit boy for keys and handed them off to Frost to lock the entrances of the place, instead heading to one of the boring offices and finding a marker and some blank pieces of paper and in capital letters writing CLOSED on each one. Despite the fun, the two interviews had given him, his time was important and he didn't need or want any more normal, everyday pedestrians coming in today.
Yelling for Frost, he started doodling on the walls with the marker, sketching out the bodies in the other room with painstaking detail. This room was barely bigger than a broom closet and his tall form was beginning to feel cramped when Frost finally appeared. Mumbling to himself, "Too small said Joker '' as he shoved the papers at his goon, not waiting to see if he had a grip on them. It was time to begin looking for where he was going to settle in. The first room, though large, was just as dull as the broom closet office. "Too big said the Joker, not to mention too boring." He had tucked his hands in his pockets, using one of his long legs to knock over the desk that sat in the center of the room. Enjoying the moment as paperwork scattered about and floated down to the floor. "Better but still not good enough."
He continued, coming across the green rooms. Behind Number 1 was a modern grey blah fest and he quickly slammed the door closed. Number 2 though was a pleasant surprise, opening it he saw that the room was not only large but his color, green. He could appreciate the black and white checkered floor and the random high back chair that was a deep purple that sat in it. The chair was placed near a desk that was on one side of the room. Other than that it was bare and ready to be fully made in his image. Yes, It seemed this room was gonna be his goldilocks. Walking over to the desk and running a finger over it, he looked at the dust that collected on the tip of his appendage, mulling over his plans for this place.
He would never say he was trying to run some kind of legitimate business but a front like a comedy club would not only give him a place to conduct some of his meetings but another place to hide whenever Batsy got to be too much of a thorn in his side. Experience had shown, hiding in plain sight in the places most obvious had been the most fruitful. Plus, why should lesser men, like Pengy, get a club all molded to him while he, The Joker, didn't? He let his few chuckles morph into a scoff before stepping back out and took the marker from earlier, scrawling on the door in sharp but elegant writing, 'MINE.' before proceeding to the next room, to door number three.
Twisting the handle he heard a shrill squeak come from inside and he felt a huge smile grow on his face. Charging in with no concern, his eyes were filled with reds, blacks, and whites. Straight across from him sat a shivering Harley Quinn. She was gripping a towel tightly around her with one hand, the other held a tube of lipstick that had been dragged past her lips in her surprise of the intrusion to create a deep red half-smile. She was still wet from a recent wash, her blonde hair clinging to the sides of her face. Her eyes stood out against all the smudges of black that circled them. She looked like a completely different kind of blubbering mess from before. Taking her fully in, his eyes traveled down, seeing her pale thighs that became shapely legs. Her skin was pale but the pink undertones bloomed underneath and he was hit with an urge to take a switchblade to her. His eyes resisted the urge to roll back as flashes of her broken form, all bloody and twitching laid before him. He could imagine his fingers stroking every slice he would make, causing her to illicit the same squeak he had just heard. He wondered what her screams sounded like, how her pale skin bruised, what her blood tasted like. He could indulge a little, couldn't he?
Harley flushed as the Joker looked her over, feeling raw and exposed as he eyed her flesh. He kept quiet as his eyes slowly made their way back to hers, his smile engulfing his face as they met. Harley wondered why such a beautiful man was so apt to stare upon her, her heart fluttered and she knew the quiet obsession she held for years was rapidly twisting her emotions. She saw his fingers twitching, and within a few strides, he was towering over her yet again. This time she could smell him, smoke and sweat, along with something acrid filling her senses.
"Mistah J?" she squeaked out as his hands shot out towards her, one plucking the lipstick from her hand and setting it behind them. The other dancing across her jaw. Her shivering intensified and she craned her head back, hoping his eyes gave away what he was thinking, what he was trying to do. The Joker's vibrant green pools shone back, a seeming mixture of malicious excitement. She felt his thumb touch her bottom lip, stroking it a few times before digging into the corner of her mouth and sharply drawing it out towards her cheek. Her eyes quickly shut, his touch suddenly harsh, allowing his thumbnail to scratch her skin.
As soon as he stopped she tried to say "Boss?"
His fingers were back at her mouth, drumming against them, a low hum coming from his throat.
"Shush, Harley."
"B-but -" She opened her eyes, seeing that his face was growing angry. Both his hands had moved down to her neck. The humming became a growl.
"I said be quiet, cupcake!"
His hands tightened, her voice now stuck in her throat and the oxygen in the room cut off. Instinct took over and she attempted to pull his hands off, letting her towel and her modesty be forgotten.
His laughter began to fill her ears, and she wondered if this was what being consumed completely by someone felt like. Harley's eyes grew wide as she felt a warmth grow between her thighs. She knew she had always had masochistic tendencies, but really, right now?
And here she thought the mystery lipstick was a possible big deal, where was the medical Harleen currently? Peering up at him, she could only feel the urge to laugh as well. Watching two murders, performing acrobatics, her hygienic practices being fully called into question and now being strangled in a green room by The Joker. It was all too funny, too out of whack. What would her obituary say? Would it be bland or would the escapades of the last few hours give her corpse a few moments of attention before being swept away and replaced by the other people he would claim?
She could feel her chest try to heave out her own laughter, but it only vibrated in her throat. Her mouth reacted though, the muscles of her face exposing her teeth as she gave him her sincerest smile. Harley's vision was beginning to darken around the edges, but she saw it, she saw the Joker's brow furrowed in confusion before the tiniest slither of bare reaction crossed his face...it was lust. Only a moment and it was gone, but it was enough and her mouth spread farther, aching while her vision grew dimmer. She felt special, offering him something he must have never have gotten before. That would be a good note to go out on.
Why was she smiling? He didn't understand, this wasn't the reaction he expected. He'd never gotten this response before. He could feel her throat vibrating under his hands...she was trying to laugh. He always understood his victims' reactions, they all knew instinctively to fight back in fear, to cry, to scream, and twitch under him. But not her, why not her!? The most perturbed part was that he felt his body react, that primal and grunting part that so rarely appeared coming forth yet again with her.
He squashed it down, staring at her as he saw her smile growing larger. It was a bit endearing, touching even, this little clown giving him her best smile, laying bare and exposed under him, trying to join in on his laughter. He had never gotten this willingly, only ever seeing chemically induced smiles and scientifically manufactured laughter with his SmileX. It struck him then, his Harley Quinn, his personal hellequin. A pretty fool of an emissary that would follow him to the depths of depravity and madness, smiling and singing his praise the entire time. He let his grip loosen, savoring the sound of her ragged gasps as she greedily took in the air around them. It was hilarious, it was beautiful. He stepped back, his laughter still loud and bright and he let one of his hands cup her cheek.
The silly woman leaned into it, lapping up the softness of his touch. He took in the rapidly purpling skin of her neck, only mildly annoyed when his view continued south, taking advantage of the open towel. Everything was so perky and soft, pink kissing all the right areas. Her body was supple and blank, perfect for molding and then breaking down to build back up. The Joker had to get away, worried that he would fully break his new toy if left with such carvable skin and these nagging reactions he didn't want around right now. He had to prepare anyway, she needed more kneading into form, more time baking. He yanked his hand away, falling silent as he heard her try to murmur something. He was already walking away, the door of Harley Quinn's new room slamming behind him.
She was still alive and alone. Harley's emotions were brewing under the surface as her fingers reached up to brush against where his hands had been. It ached and turning to view herself she saw all the purple. She also saw how the mystery lipstick had been pulled past her lips to paint a dark smile.
Getting up and deciding for her own sanity it was time to get dressed and go, she quickly dug through the outfits that decorated one side of the room, finding a button-down shirt dress that would fit. Throwing it on, she ran to the bathroom and rinsed off her shoes, thankful the outsides were not a porous material. Back to the vanity one last time, she tied up her unbrushed hair and grabbed the lipstick, finally looking at the bottom for its name. 'Bury Them With A Smile.'... seriously? She chucked it back into a drawer knowing she definitely wouldn't forget it and headed out.
It was surprisingly quiet, and the main floor was already squeaky clean. Deegan obviously had done this kind of work before, but Harley didn't want to think about it too much. She made a beeline to the front entrance, and to the locker that held her purse. Of course, Deegan was there, arms crossed and waiting. She glared and he gave a weak smile,
"Harls, I'm gonna drive you home, grab your stuff and let's go"
"Oh yeah? So kind and considerate of ya, thinking about a gal like me."
She could hear the rasp in her voice and she pulled the collar of the button-down dress tighter together. Deegan moved to the side, and Harley saw her locker had already been unlocked and her purse obviously dug through.
"You do this?"
"No, but are you really surprised Harls, after everything else that's happened today, or is the rifled purse crossing the line?"
Snorting she didn't bother to respond, yanking the purse strap over her shoulder and moving towards the door.
He was quick to catch up, but that wasn't hard to do with her short leg length. Harley wondered how ridiculous it must have looked when she had been near the Joker, her 5'4 and a half, the half was important, framed against a man who was well over 6 feet.
She felt Deegan gently grab the crook of one arm, guiding her to what must be his vehicle. Much like him, it was average, a silver sedan that was aging but not ready for the junkyard.
He opened the back door and she shook off his hold and got in. Looking at her nails until his door closed and she heard the engine turn over.
"Dontcha need to know my address?"
"Already got it."
Rolling her eyes, "Ain't it funny how we've learned so much about each other in the last few hours?"
She met his gaze in the mirror and she heard a chuckle, "Yeah, but you're still as silly and crazy of a broad as I assumed you were though."
She snapped back, "Hey! Well ya know, you're still as boring and average, so there!"
She could see the lines at his eyes become more prominent.
"I'm not complaining, it's what keeps me alive, average helps me be useful and it helps me disappear when needed. You shouldn't be so upset, Harls, I can guarantee your craziness kept you kicking for another day."
She looked away, crossing her arms, and stared out the window, watching the greys of Gotham blur by. She wasn't going to agree, not yet, she didn't know the why's.
It was silent most of the ride, the sun already faded behind the towering buildings of the city as the trip brought forth older and more run-down buildings. Of course, she couldn't afford a nice apartment, even with a roommate, but not many working class Gothamites could. 'Housing initiatives, my ass!'
She was lost in her moody thoughts as Deegan parked in front of her complex, and she was ready to jump out but he leaned around his seat to stop her.
"Wait, I got something for you."
"Wha is it!?"
"An envelope, got something inside it but I'm not gonna look, I know better."
Handing it over, she felt the thickness of the manilla envelope before stuffing it in her purse.
She paused, "Do I come in tomorrow? Like is this job stuff for real?"
Deegan gave her a serious look, "No and Yes, what I mean is, Variety is gonna be closed for a few days for remodeling, Boss was talking about a grand reopening right before he left."
He almost looked sad for a moment as he continued.
"This job stuff is very real, you're a part of it now whether you like it or not. Now you know not to do anything stupid right? No cops, no splitting town, no telling everyone you know?"
Harley snarled, she wasn't a freaking idiot!
"Yes I know, Daaaad." She was done with this and wiggled her fingers in a mocking wave as she exited the vehicle to her apartment building.
The whole climb up the staircase she was mumbling mocking insults to Deegan, angry at him but not fully sure why. Probably because he was the only fellow human she knew who knew and even he had a leg up. Reaching her door and digging for her keys, she felt the envelope again, curious as to what it held. ' I doubt it's new hire paperwork...' Messing with the always sticking handle of her door for a minute, she let out a long sigh of relief as it gave and she entered her home.
It was dark, her roommate at work just like she should be. Making her way left, towards her room, she was already unbuttoning the dress and kicking off her shoes so she could face plant firmly on her bed. Harley allowed herself to scream into all the pillows, finally giving herself a moment to feel all her anger, frustration, and unsureness. 'How did I get myself into this mess?'
Nothing really, just existing here in Gotham was enough. Harley wondered if maybe she could call up a therapist, a bit embarrassed that she had given up one side of the desk to find herself needing the other side. 'I couldn't afford it anyways.'
Groaning she rolled over, grabbing the remote for her tiny tv and letting it fill the room with a dull light. She doubted she'd get any reprieve with sleep and her brain needed to be occupied.
Gotham's local news was on, Summer Gleeson was reporting on a recent heist by The Riddler. Harley rolled her eyes, remembering it had only been last Christmas that the news anchor had been kidnapped by The Joker for a Christmas themed plot. Maybe Harley wasn't that special, as the woman on screen had survived the Joker and was back to her normal life, though Harley wasn't ever gonna end up on TV like that. 'With my accent? I'd be laughed offa the newsroom floor." Snorting, she reached down to her purse, laying off her bed and she finally pulled out the manilla envelope.
'It's prolly laced with poison or somethin'. Opening it up she turned it upside down to let the contents fall on her bed. It wasn't what she expected, it was money, more than she had ever seen in one go. All hundreds. She started counting, and by the end, it had totaled 50 bills. "5000 bucks!?" She was gonna plotz, this was well over what she made in a month. "Five thousand buck a roonies!" She splayed the bills out into a fan, her eyes eating up the green pieces of paper greedily. "I'll take falling in blood and breath play for this much money any day!" Giggling she picked up the only other item in the envelope, a folded piece of cardstock.
'For being such a good sport today and to congratulate you on your budding new career.'
The handwriting was elegant but sharp and she could see in some areas where the pen had been pressed down too hard, letting the ink bleed past the lines. "Just like him" she murmured to herself, paying extra close attention to the signature, a single J. She clutched it to her chest, already feeling herself grow giddy, the warmth building, and her giggles grew louder, madder. Squirming on her sheets, she let the card rest on her chest as she allowed a hand to slip down her waist, touching the center of the warmth. Letting her eyes flutter shut, she stroked herself eagerly, imagining long white fingers instead and as she got closer, her laughter got higher-pitched, punctuated by tiny squeaks. Harley made sure to congratulate herself to her full satisfaction and drifted off surrounded by The Joker's gifts, a contented smile on her face.