He practically threw her off his lap when he was finished.

Of course, he did.

He got what he wanted; he didn't need you anymore!

Stupid girl!

She soaked in the water; she had to make sure she didn't have any of him left on her.

She let herself sink to the bottom and sobbed, oh god!

This wasn't right!

This wasn't right at all!

This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not like this!

It was only supposed to be teasing and friendly flirting, not sex.

The violence and chaos is how they articulate what's between them.

Her need for oxygen forced her to surface; she noticed him rubbing his eyes as she swam back to shore.

He stood against his car, holding something wrapped in plastic.

When she was back on land, he handed her an airtight bag with some of her clothing inside.

Before this night, she wouldn't have pondered why he had some of her adorns.

Now, she can't help but wonder...

It was nothing special, just a lavender button-up shirt and a pair of mauve pants, and...

Grape-colored lace panties, identical to her ripped pair.

She made a mental note not to buy those pair ever again.

And she also found herself feeling violated by this; he crossed the line.

He crossed the line, and she let him.

He burned the soiled clothing; she smoked a cigarette as the evidence of their shared sin burred.

'I think this goes without saying,' he stood too close, 'we never speak of this.'

'Madness doesn't mean stupidity, Bats.'

She escaped from the hospital weeks later, releasing other

inmates and ordering her crew to free the inmates at Blackgate. The Bat would see it as a pleasant distraction, a pleasant distraction.

That's what it was at first, a pleasant distraction—a physical and emotional release of all the pent-up shit in her life.

They teased each other for years, but she knew that was all it was.

But then...

She just felt so numb and wanted to connect with someone, anyone.

She did what she always did, teased and played.

That wasn't the first time she climbed into his lap, definitely not the first time she kissed him.

Not even the first time he kissed back.

He wasn't supposed to kiss back, not like that, at least; he was surprisingly good at it.

Too good.

No, he wasn't supposed to be that good at kissing and touching...

He removed his gloves to touch her; he touched her bare skin with his.

He said that she had soft skin.

Soft skin that he didn't know how to handle; he was rough with her.

He was not a gentle lover, not like Harley.

Joker knew he would go after the most dangerous inmates and save her for last. More than enough time to finish; hopefully, he comes alone.

She felt ashamed of what they did and couldn't bare explaining why she was sick, nervous, and holding a box for a pregnancy test to anyone but him.

Her seventh, to be precise, it had to be a mistake!

All those tests are wrong; they have to be!

She and Harley spent years trying, then to learn that she was infertile, and now-

No, it must be a mistake; it has to be!