Life and Death
Chapter 3
There was one person in this world that Harley Quinn would kill for.
She had done it before, and she would do it again, without a doubt. But in a place within her that she thought only had room for total attachment and love for one person, something else had grown. Suddenly, her world was shared by two.
The dark city outside was hidden by the reflection of the room in the window, heavy curtains pulled aside. But if one went closer to the large panorama window, they would see the magnificent view of a rainy Gotham from above.
This was a suitable place for royalty, in a penthouse at the very top. So far above the boring people, living their ordinary, normal, boring lives. People walking home through the rain, passing the cars and the neon light signs. Harley could have been one of them, moping around on the street down below, caught in her ordinary life, forever dull and forever boring.
Sometimes she sat on the bed, watching the night sky clouded by smog and dust, the pure blue that managed to escape the suffocating lid of grey. She liked watching the city, always illuminated by lights, knowing it all belonged to Mr. J. Sometimes she briefly wondered how her life would have turned out if she had been Harleen. She still lived inside of her, in glimpses and passing thoughts. She was the little girl she had been when she was younger, she was her hazy childhood memories, she was the image of normality.
Normality was something to laugh at.
Harley didn't want to pretend. She was not a housewife in a suburban, safe little area, with a law-abiding husband who came home every day to dinner. She was born to be like this, a complete wild card in a spinning deck, no safety ties. The housewife she thought she would become eventually now had a gun in one hand and a bat in the other.
She sing-sang to herself as she moved around the bedroom, her gaze every so often drifting away and getting completely lost. The place was littered with blankets and stuffed animals in a mess, a mobile of cars with tutus above the crib. The nursery was connected to their bedroom through a single door, and both the rooms had full view of Gotham. The baby's crib was big and lavishly decorated; diamonds and spades etched into the heavy black metal frame. It suited the future heir of Gotham.
Harley picked her up, cooing, then sat down on the plush bed in the bedroom and prepared to feed her.
She was already so much like her father. She stayed awake all night; only dozing off in the afternoon. Sometimes she refused to eat, sometimes she slept heavily for a whole day and Harley had to wake her up to feed her. She could be so silent that Harley had to check to make sure that she was really breathing.
The baby started suckling as Harley cradled her. "You're already hungry, princess? You're gonna grow so big and strong." She absently smoothed out her purple onesie. All the time she spent with her daughter had made the voices of Baby fade away.
Harley saw the reflection in the window, again showing her the strange, unfamiliar sight of her nursing a child. One of her hands supported the baby's head; the other was placed around her bottom, keeping her close. Heartbeat against heartbeat.
"It's raining, it's pouring," she sang, tilting her head back and forth. "The old man is snoring. He went to bed and bumped his head, and didn't wake up the next morning." She grinned.
When Jaylie was finished, Harley picked up the baby wipes and cleaned her pink little mouth before fixing her bra in place and pulling her tight top down again. She put the girl against her shoulder and rocked her slightly up and down, just like she had read that she was supposed to do.
She really wouldn't have a clue what to do if it wasn't for that bookstore robbery she conducted in her second trimester. J didn't even bother to look at the books she got – he had threatened to burn them if he saw them lying around. He made his own rules on how to interact with the baby. Mostly, he wasn't around; he was out supervising his clubs or doing business.
Harley missed him badly, but she knew it wouldn't do for both of them to disappear from Gotham's underworld – he needed to be there to show the lowlifes who owned the city, that the power wasn't slipping an inch from their grip. She knew she was going to join him soon enough. She missed the clubs and the attention, being out at night with J and playing their games.
She refused to leave the baby in the care of someone else, she didn't even trust Frosty to hold her. J didn't push it – something told her that he was not too fond of the idea either. It must be the possessive streak in him, rather than any actual attachment for the baby – mostly, when Jaylie was in the room he would not spare her much attention.
"Do you wanna play, Jay?" Harley cooed and lifted the baby off her shoulder. She gave her a big kiss on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick smudge, and then placed her on her lap. She held her upright and rocked her slightly up and down.
The girl caught hold of the necklace she wore around her neck, pulling the diamond-shaped pendant into her mouth. Lately her gums had started annoying her, and she put everything she could reach into her mouth and gnawed at it.
Her eyes were shifted between grey and blue, just like her father's, and the expression in them switched between oblivious wonder and a small frown that vaguely resembled his when something annoyed her little mind, as much as a four-month old baby could manage anyway. Harley loved watching her expressions.
She picked her up and walked around in the bedroom, carrying her on the arm as Jaylie had settled drooling all over her necklace. Both of the rooms looked a mess every time J had been away for a while. Harley often ended up sitting in their bed with Jaylie sleeping on her chest, surrounded by blankets, lazily watching television and demanding the henchmen got food delivered to her.
J's goons stayed out of her way and followed her orders when she enforced them with threats or by the help of Frost who was well used to her demands, ranging from ice cream at five in the morning or takeout food at midnight.
She started picking up the packages of baby wipes, pacifiers, clean diapers and the enormous amount of baby clothes that were strewn around the place. The restlessness when J was gone was jarring, reminding her of months just staring into the bars of her cage.
When she had moved most of the baby paraphernalia away – into the nursery, on a pile - she put on the television again. GCN was reporting a big incident in southwest of Gotham, filming a burning building and a swarm of police cars. She felt a wide smile creep onto her face.
"Do you see that, princess?" she told the baby, lifting her soft hand and pointing at the screen gleefully. "That's your daddy's work."
Jaylie made an incoherent sound in reply.
Harley sighed and her smile faltered a bit. It was evident in her entire body, the need to just put on some festive clothes and go out and show Gotham who their queen was. She missed the looks in the people's faces when she played with them, the admiration, the reverence when she was in the spotlight.
For a moment she entertained the thought of stepping into her Adidas heels and putting on her favorite hot pants and a tight corset, letting Frost drive her to the club, with a baby on her arm. She would show them just how deadly she could be, with new hormones flooding her body; she would go straight up into the glass cage. Maybe she could even get J to hold Jaylie for her for a moment.
Soon enough, she told herself.
.
.
She was having a slumber party by herself, hanging from the ceiling in a silk drape. Jaylie was placed on a blanket on the bed, gnawing at a plush toy shaped as a bat, when the door opened harshly. The Joker stalked through the room. Harley made a somersault in the air and jumped to her feet.
"I've missed you so much, Puddin'," she smiled at him and skipped over. She was only wearing a transparent silk drape, but he didn't even seem to notice. Something was definitely up, and she grimaced. "Batsy again?"
He muttered something in return, already looking through his phone for something.
Jaylie made a sound and threw her arm out, and the bat covered in slobber ended up on the floor. Harley picked her up. "Puddin'?"
"Not now, Harls."
Harley put Jaylie down in her crib, then leaned against the door. "Won't ya play with me?" she whined.
He looked over at her with his trademark neutral expression, a sideways grin that could mean just about anything, brows raised. "You wanna play?"
"Yeah," she purred. "Come on, Puddin'."
"Are you bored, Harley?" He approached her, giving her that dead-stare look that would make anyone else tremble in their knees. She moved closer to him. "No, just don't let them forget who you're with. What if some otha' girl is out there, checkin' you out?"
He chuckled at that, smoothing his hair back.
She bit her lip seductively, staring right back at him and emphasizing her words with a stronger tone. "You're out there playin' and I'm here all day… I've been missin' you, Puddin'. Jay misses you too."
He gave her an incredulous grin, but his eyes flashed. "Now, really? You're bored that you're in here?" She sensed that they were going to be fully at it within seconds, and she couldn't wait. His gaze darkened and he took a step closer, lowering his tone. "Is that it, hmm?"
"If you don't like what I'm saying, maybe you should come over here and shut me up," Harley challenged, giving him a sly smile, and only a second later her back was pressed against the wall and he had his arms on either side of her head. There was nothing she loved more than pushing people's buttons, and the Joker was the only one who dared to give her full retaliation – her favorite game.
She would feel this retaliation for a while, indeed.
"I could make you shut up, permanently," he growled at her.
"Come on," Harley winked at him, and then reached up to press her lips against his chin. "Ya know that would be boring, what would ya do without me?"
Their bodies were pressed flush against each other and he pulled away from her as punishment. She whined and tried to regain the body contact.
"Just play with me for once, Mistah J, pretty pretty ple –"
He growled and then kissed her hard, effectively silencing her. Her hands were already working with his shirt, sliding underneath the fabric as he threw her onto the bed.
.
.
So far, the Joker had just tolerated the baby. He did not show her any particular interest, doing nothing to further help or harm the existence of the little one.
That night stared like any other. The Joker was out again and Jaylie had finally dozed off after spending all day awake, fussing and crying. Harley changed her into her pajamas and tucked her into her crib, the tiredness taking over after the long day and night.
"You're such a little monster," she cooed proudly. She sang quietly to her, a nonsense lullaby without proper words. The melody was too ominous to be calming to any other baby, but when she tried to sing a regular lullaby to her Jaylie grew restless.
Harley kissed her plump cheeks and stroked the light hair on the top of her head. The baby's fists clenched up and her eyelids closed. "Sweet dreams, Puddin' Pie!"
She couldn't really see herself as a mother; she just didn't know what she was supposed to do. Her own mother had not given her much in that department, at least not what she could remember - all that was a hazy, fuzzy memory from another life.
Usually Harley would be awake at any time Jaylie cried, already up and ready to go feed her or change her diaper, but for once Jaylie slept heavily and she decided to go to bed. J rarely returned until the morning hours.
It felt strange to go to sleep without a baby on her chest, and the dreams that hadn't hit her for such a long time returned.
In her dreams she was rocking two babies in her arms, a girl and a boy, two perfect little beings, then the scenery shifted and she wasn't Harley anymore, she was a normal woman with a normal life and two healthy babies – and Mr. J was a stranger, a stranger in a business suit and brown hair.
She hated it; she wanted to see him just the way he was. In her dreams, she held a perfect little boy with impossibly green hair, clear blue eyes and a red little mouth in a delightful smile. A mischievous glimpse in his eyes, and her children were playing together.
J.J. Her other baby.
Harley was awakened by the sound of low cries. She slowly sat up in bed feeling unusually dizzy. She took a deep breath to steady herself, the image of a little boy still lingering in her mind.
She heard a slight shuffling sound from Jaylie's room and was immediately alert. She bolted upright, grasped one of the knives they always had lying around and prepared to rush over and stab the intruder.
The henchmen knew they weren't allowed up there, but the rookies weren't always so smart. If it was Frost she would put him back in line. She couldn't imagine any outside criminal being suicidal enough to wander straight into the Joker's penthouse, especially with her being constantly awake and armed at all times, but she wasn't about to take any risks.
As she swiftly and quietly slid off the bed with the knife in her hand, she heard a familiar voice talking. She stopped right in her tracks.
She tip-toed to the slightly ajar door, leaning in and listening carefully. The Joker stood with his back half-turned against her, holding the baby in his arms.
She moved to get a look of his face – he wore a concentrated expression, as if he was holding a serious speech and expecting her to listen. His voice was low and smooth and sometimes very quick, then lowering to guttural. "… we'll own Gotham. We'll show the bat who owns this place."
Harley couldn't help but giggle. He turned his head slightly when he heard her, and Harley silently entered the room and stood behind him.
He was resting the baby's head on his open palm. He stared at her, half-expectantly and half-bemused, as if she was a difficult equation he was trying to solve.
Jaylie cried out and he lowered his face to hers, their noses almost touching. "Shhhhh…" he purred darkly. "I'm thinking."
At this she fell silent, and they looked at each other for a moment. Jaylie's hands moved up and touched his hair. He pulled back immediately, giving her a chastising look.
Overflowing with pride, Harley rested one hand on his arm affectionately. "Isn't she pretty, Puddin'? She's got your eyes," she giggled.
It brought her a rush of excitement, seeing J hold her for no apparent reason. Before, he would occasionally hand her over to Harley after picking her up, but this full out scrutinizing, as if it was the first time he really looked at her, was different. She couldn't imagine that hand, with often bruised knuckles and bloody fingernails, holding their baby.
Jaylie stared right back at him, her eyes mirroring his. Without another word, he handed her over to Harley. She couldn't stop smiling as she placed Jaylie back in her crib.
The Joker twisted his neck, grunting slightly. She knew the insomnia must be getting to him; some nights were worse than others, and she had no idea how long he had stayed awake this time.
"Come on, Puddin'," she said and gently coaxed him out of the room, towards their bed.
He didn't protest as she removed his jacket suit from him, then he unbuttoned his shirt, removed his holster and threw it away.
He flopped down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, arms spread wide. She knew that touching him in those moments was a bet, sometimes he would growl warningly at her if she came too close, sometimes he would pull her close to him and refuse to let her go all night.
Harley was content with whatever she could do for him, if her presence could give him any solace at all, so she sat down on her knees beside him on the bed, awaiting some kind of sign that it was alright to come closer.
Maybe he too missed their games. She had barely left the penthouse at all for four months, and compared to Belle Reve it was a dream – she had all she could ever ask for, she was happy.
She was glad that their little monster was sleeping now – normally, J would bang his fist into the wall when she disrupted his much delayed sleep, and grunt to Harley to go get her before he decided to silence the kid in other ways. She knew that it was just his grumpiness and irritation talking, and after tonight she was sure of one thing.
He wasn't indifferent to her, no matter how much he had been trying to distance himself. He had built up walls against everyone.
A fresh wave of tenderness filled her and so she reached out, touching his shoulder gently. He rolled over on his side, away from her, and gave a slight purr when she started threading her fingers through his hair. He only allowed her to touch it on special occasions, when he needed the closeness just as much as she did.
It always helped him relax, so Harley moved closer to sit behind him and gently massaged his tense shoulders and neck, before running her fingers through his hair. He purred more steadily now, a sign of approval that always spurred her on, and she continued, as if he was a child that needed reassuring.
She continued until she was sure that his restlessness had been defeated and that he was fast asleep – it had been a couple of weeks since they last had been sleeping at the same time. Then she carefully lay down beside him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her face into the crook of his neck.
There were two persons in this world that Harley Quinn would kill for.
She had done it before, and she would do it again.