DON'T FIGHT MY EMPRESS

Empress's Perspective:

My name is Emma, you can call me Empress. Call me by my real name if I don't like you and you get a knife to your throat within seconds. Are we clear? Good. I have a habit of killing people for disagreeing with my opinions.

Which is exactly the situation I'm in now, I was just minding my own business at the bar when someone 'eyed' my body top to bottom and tried to grab some...well, about nine out of the ten guys who were approaching me for a taste are now lying on the floor crying.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm late for an incredibly important business appointment" I said, smashing the bartender I was previously strangling into the black leathered and metal based bar stool. I downed a pint of beer, smashing the empty glass on his body. Make that ten out of ten guys now lying on the floor. I chucked a dollar on the counter and shoved my knife blade through it, pinning it in place. "This was fun, let's do it again sometime, yeah?" I laughed, bursting out of the door.

I dialled the clown's number on one of the phones which were randomly discarded on the counter. Joker answered.

"Why are you not here yet?" he asked angrily. Sounded like smooching in the background...gross.

"What the fuck is that noise?"

"The wind? The fuck does it matter to you? Get your ass over here."

"Don't have to tell me twice, I can only get there as fast as I can get there. Sounds like you'll be occupied for a while though."

"Empre-" he started angrily.

"Save it." I interrupted. I ended the call, tossing the phone over my shoulder.

I can't listen to that clown for long, I only agreed to be one of his mercenaries for the money. Nothing else.

Why would I break my own phone? I have a smartphone worth more than your head. If it's on a contract, maybe we'll be seeing each-other soon.

Right...so I guess you want to know what I'm wearing too? Perverts. Alright fine. I have blue eyes, long blonde curly hair, a distinguishing face which believe me you don't want to look at the wrong way. Aside from that, I find it fashionable to chuck on a jacket over the top of a grey hoodie and ripped jeans, completing the whole 'ensemble' thing with a pair of boots. Maybe some day I'll find myself a more distinct outfit. But for now, it'll have to do. I tend to have my black leather jacket done up loosely, so you can see the graphic white clown t-shirt which is ripped in places. I also find it appropriate to carry around a creepy heist mark, in the design of a clown of course...representing The Joker means clowns and jester based everything.

I carry enough knives and guns to make your life incredibly uncomfortable. Knives especially are my fun speciality, and The Joker's too. Check inside my pockets, my jacket lining...they're full of weapons. Even my leg has a holster for a gun attached to it. One of these days, clown boy Joker will realize that mercenary work is too underpaid for such a stunner like myself.

Oh, but I'm being far too modest.

The phone in my pocket vibrates. I slide it out of my trouser pocket and look at who's calling. I answer.

"What part of 'get your ass over here' did you not understand?" Joker asked.

"And what part of 'I'm on my way' did you not understand?" I replied rudely, opening the front door on the black 4x4 truck. I hoisted myself up to the height of the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind me. I turned the key to start the engine, Joker can surely hear the roaring of the engine through the comms. "Give me ten minutes, alright?"

"Fine...ten minutes, if you're late I'll-"

"You'll kill me...yeah yeah I know" I interrupted, ending the call and placing the phone on the passenger seat.

I tapped an app on the phone to open the tracking software of Joker's Infiniti G35. Right...he's in the middle of nowhere. The road which is on-route to Street Cafe Deluxe...which I assume is where he was before 'Harley' got him caught.

I slam the accelerator and proceed to his last presumed location. According to the tracking app I can see his car has crashed into the side of a police car...that would make sense. Harley got arrested, and he bolted his way there to save her. Now they're likely either killing or kissing each other.

Probably a bit of both, knowing Joker.

I arrive at the location of the stranded couple. They both look up at the truck. I open the door, stretch my legs over the side and jump down, ignoring the steps which were meant to be used to climb down 'safely'.

"Right, I think that was about eight minutes nineteen seconds, do I keep my head now?" I asked, wandering over to the romantic duo...who were lying on the bonnet of a smashed police car. I won't judge, I don't get paid to feel. "Good to see you're both still alive anyway" I smirked.

"Who's this?" Harley asked defensively. I wouldn't expect nothing less from her. "I thought you said you called for a mercenary"

"Yeah, this is Empress. Try not to kill her, sugar plum she's just here to take us back home"

"Who said I'm going home with you?" Harley asked, getting off Joker and looking at him seriously.

"Lie in the back of the truck if you don't want to be near him then" I sniggered.

"Watch ya tone with me and Mistah J, he don't like it when ya make jokes" the adorable but incredibly annoying accent returned to her voice.

"At least Empress actually came to help, unlike my other thugs who just find it funny to beat up each-other when they lose a game of poker...gambling with my money." Joker got up from the hood of the police car with one enthusiastic motion. "You know you wanna come home with me, don't lie" Joker told Harley.

Harley got up, less enthusiastically and looked at Joker. "At least we'll be able ta enjoy some time together without interruption" she commented, stretching her arms around Joker's shoulders.

I cough to get their attention. "Yes, well I would like to get out of here before someone realizes where you are...clearly this police officer got the message" I looked at the dead body of the police officer lying in the driver's seat. Joker approached my parked truck and looked over at me. "What?" I asked.

"This only has two seats" he pointed out.

"Yeah, and? You know how to drive don't you?"

"As good as when I crashed that expensive car...sure, but what about you?" he asked, half caring and half not.

"Don't you worry about me, I can just hitch a ride in the trunk, I'm used to it." I climbed into the back of the truck, it was an open cargo storage containment design rather than an actual 'boot' which you open and close. "Safety never bothered me before, why start now" I held onto the sides of the truck to ensure I didn't fall out of the back.

"Harley?" Joker asked, approaching Harley and about to tap her on the shoulder. Harley was facing her back to him, arms crossed. She was looking out over the horizon at Gotham City.

"Before I get in that truck with ya, I need ta know sum' things" Harley demanded, her back still unsociably turned.

"We'll talk later, I promise." he assured her. I could see him cross his fingers behind his back. Heh, cheeky sod. "Back at my place, yeah?" he asked.

Harley turned around to face Joker. I groaned and banged my fist on the side of the truck. They both heard it and looked towards me. "Today would be lovely you know" I said impatiently.

"No. Not back at yur place. That got us in trouble before...not again. Not again, Mistah J"

"Tough, because that's where we're going." he dragged her by the wrist and chucked her at the side of the truck. "Get in." he ordered.

Harley sighed and opened the passenger seat door, closing it behind her. Joker entered the driver's seat and slammed the door behind him. "Wait! I forgot mah baseball bat!" Harley shouted, getting out of the truck and running frantically over to her discarded weapon on the cold ground. She took hold of it and then climbed back into the truck, with a little grin on her face. "Couldn't forget such'a beautiful thin' like this, could I, puddin?" Harley asked happily.

Well, she went back to her 'puddin' quick enough, I think he's seriously damaging her health...Joker's a psychopathic sicko but he's a motivational boss I suppose. Don't know what he'd be like as a boyfriend...actually, I really don't want to know.