Harley panicked for a moment, turning back to look at her dorm. Part of her realized how ridiculous this was-receiving a mysterious gift from a dangerous sociopath that included an invite to a party she had no idea how to get to. She started to turn back towards the door, when she heard tires squealing behind her. Recognizing the purr of the Camarro, she suddenly felt her confidence return. She turned on her heels towards the car, with her legs still crossed and hands on her hips,
"There ya are, Puddin. I was starting to worry you might stand me up"
The Joker sat at the wheel, in all his glorious regalia. Leaving the engine running, he stepped out of the car and walked towards her. His figure held dominance and maybe a little bit of menace, but Harley stood there, smiling a little as the criminal approached her.
"I couldn't do that to my number one girl. Now come along, Harley, let's make this a night that all of Gotham will remember"
"Sounds like my kinda night, Mistah J"
Harley found herself adopting a Brooklyn accent. Part of her psyche recognized the lunacy of her current course of action-for that reason, it adopted an alternate Harley to fit this alternate reality. It was the same way she'd survived her father without anyone noticing the effects he'd had on her mental state. It wasn't quite a multiple personality case, but by the time Joker was done with her, she'd be a psychologist's dream project. And it wasn't just her voice-all of her mannerisms suddenly transformed, making her bolder, more sensual than she normally was. She didn't draw back when Joker slid an arm around waist. He smiled when he saw the gun in her hand,
"Glad to see you didn't forget anything. Safety first, I always say"
Harley just smiled back as he led her to the passenger side of the car. She felt all concern for repercussions and regret sliding off of her skin. When he jammed the manual into reverse, she didn't even buckle her seat belt.
After he put the Camarro back into drive, Joker found a station playing Johnny Cash hits, turned the speakers up, and then replaced his arm back on the head rest behind Harley. He caught her give another one of her wicked smiles. He'd been planning this 'party' for weeks, and everything was going to go exactly as planned. Even if that meant compromising his other plans for the evening.
About a half hour later, they were parked outside of a sketchy looking warehouse. Harley couldn't hear any music coming from the party inside, much less lights illuminating the festivities. She slowly started to realize how foolish it had been to think that the Joker, renowned psychopathic, dangerous criminal at large, would haunt regular parties. This was probably still going to be a festive event of some kind-just not the generic loud music and cheap booze on campus type she was accustomed to.
Suddenly, he was at her side of the car, holding the door open and a hand out to escort her. She took it, smiling coyly, and also a little confused. They walked towards the building, arm in arm, but just when she thought he was going to open the door, he pulled her aside and pushed her body up roughly against the wall.
A paralyzing panic gripped her as she saw the glimmer a small knife being held at her throat,
"Now, Harlequin, my love, you're going to play along, like a good little actress when we get in there, alright?"
He licked his lips ferociously; for the first time, she really noticed the gaping scars running up the sides of his cheeks. She hadn't really gotten a good look at him earlier-poor lighting. But now, this close to his face, they were undeniably terrifying.
He must have caught her staring at them,
"Ah, you like my scars do you? Would you like to hear how I got them? Or, maybe, you'd like a pretty little pair for yourself?"
He quickly moved the knife point up to her lips, pulling softly at the corners of her mouth with the dull side. But still, she could taste the salty, metallic flavor of her own blood as the knife ever so slightly cut into her skin. She felt tears well up in her eyes.
He saw the glistening in her eyes, and quickly his demeanor changed. He lowered the knife, replacing it in his pocket. But he didn't let off on the pressure of his body against hers, holding her tiny frame against the rough brick wall.
"Of course you'll behave, won't you, you're an obedient girl, right?"
Harley nodded, bringing a hand up to deftly wipe a tear from her eye. Fortunately, only a few tears had actually escaped, so her excellent makeup job remained for the most part intact-unlike her mouth. The bleeding felt like it had stopped. It made her realize just how sharp that knife must be, to make a tiny cut so easily healed.
He brought a hand up to that side of her mouth, gently rubbing his thumb across the cut. She looked down, unable to meet his intense gaze-what was it that he held behind those eyes? At the moment, they seemed to communicate real love, or at least a whole bunch of affection that Harley had never seen, even from Redgie. But how could he be so cruel to her one moment, than her own Romeo the next?
"It's just that tonight is very important, and I need you to not interfere"
She snuffed her nose, than swallowed to get up her courage to speak,
"Than why did you bring me?"
He smiled, it made her shiver. Her father had given the same expression the one time she'd asked him why he mistreated her.
"Because, Harlequin, we have to begin your training. This is a field trip, and I'm the teacher. And inside is the lesson. Are you ready to learn?"
Harley nodded again. He'd backed off from her body, allowing her feet to stand fully on the ground. He again held out a hand for her and a bashful expression on his face. She smiled back, and took his hand. She suddenly realized that the entire time she'd held the gun in her hand-it was loaded. All he'd had was the little knife. But then again, her arm had been pretty well pinned against the wall. She promised herself if he ever threatened her again, she'd threaten him right back with the gun. She'd spent the last half decade being controlled by men that didn't love her; she'd not suffer that any longer.
Once they got inside, she saw the interior was set up like a party. There was a DJ, playing '80s hits. A disco ball and strobe lights flashed across the floor. But the guests-they were like nothing Harley had ever seen. All were dressed like clowns, in oddly patterned mismatched clothes and wigs. Some wore masks, others had borderline demon-esque makeup on, reminiscent of the clown from "It". But they were also all men-she was the only female in the building. Or so she thought. As Joker escorted her through the crowd, the other guests parted in front of them until they stood in the center of the room. There, tied up, blindfolded and gagged sat Gotham's premier debutante- Barbra Gordon, the Commissioner's very own pretty little daughter. Harley had seen her a few times at the nicer mall in Gotham, but more often on the evening news. She was notorious for not only her impressive academic record, but also for her stunning beauty. When her dad wouldn't give an interview after a run-in with Batman or one of the crazy criminals, Barbra was always there with charm and wit to soothe the media. Even in the poor lighting, Harley envied the 17 year-old's perfect red, wavy hair and flawless skin.
But why was she here, tied up, in what was evidently a terrible amount of danger? Harley could see the tears that had fallen down the other girl's cheeks from behind the blindfold. Her boot cut jeans were torn and her blouse had some grime on it. She'd clearly put up some kind of a fight before succumbing to defeat.
Suddenly, Joker disengaged his arm from Harley's and walked over to the terrified adolescent. Harley felt a slight twinge of jealousy as he made a show of shaming his henchmen for mistreating her, then turning to Barbra and speaking softly into her ear to comfort her. But the teenager seemed to become only more distressed. Harley realized that Barbra must now know who her capturer was, no wonder the sound of Joker's voice only further frightened her. Looking somewhat disappointed that he couldn't charm the pretty little redhead, Joker stood up and turned towards Harley,
"Our first lesson tonight will be on biology. Here, we have setup a trap to catch a nocturnal predator. Using bait placed in its ideal hunting ground, we can expect to capture what we're after so that we can tag it, and track its behavior. Including where it sleeps during the day"
He looked around smugly, letting his gaze finally rest on Harley. Without unlocking his eyes from hers, he continued speaking,
"Now, can anyone tell me what we're hoping to catch tonight with our tempting little piece of bait?"
Several voices jeered from the crowd of other 'guests',
"Batman", "The Bat!"
"Very good. Now see, Harlequin, it isn't that difficult of a lesson. Are you ready for the test?"