Fresh from the stage, Harley climbed into her customer's lap in the ice cave and held a glass to his lips from which he drank. He wasn't attractive by any stretch of the imagination. He still wore the uniform of the service station for which he worked. His hair was greasy and he had grime beneath his fingernails. But he had money and that was why the manager had allowed him to rent the room and Harley's company for half an hour.
The Ice Cave was the VIP room and only real money paid its' admission. It was dressed up in crystalline icicles and featured a small penguin behind a low acrylic wall. It was for the best that it could not tell people what it had been forced to witness during its residency.
Music from the club pulsed through the room's speakers and Harley laughed when he made a joke. She tipped the glass for him again and set it aside, climbing into a straddling position across his lap on the couch. She placed her hands on his shoulders and moved against him in time with the music. His hands rose to her hips and she sat back and shook a finger at him.
"Now, now we know the rules." She said with a smile.
His touch had made her skin crawl in a mixture of disgust and a buzz of alarm. When someone broke the rules all she had to do was call security and the pervert would be dragged into the parking lot and sent on his way with a black eye for good measure. In the ice cave no one was watching and she had to cry out in order to alert the guard in the hallway. Harley usually handled the men on her own but was now more on edge than ever with her impending 'retirement' growing nearer.
She had not seen hide nor hair of the Joker since that afternoon in the kitchen of the club and breathed a sigh of relief each night she didn't come home to find any correspondence from him. She knew he would eventually come calling, the money ensured he would. She hoped she would be long gone by then.
"Hey now," she said in a warning tone as the man's hands touched the waistband of her skirt. He narrowed his eyes and dropped his hands in a huff.
"Just tryin' to get my money's worth, sweetheart." He said sarcastically and licked his lips. Harley disguised a grimace with a forced smile.
"It's not like that here." She said.
"Oh? Well, I've had full-service before and I'll be damned if some uppity bimbo is gonna deny me." He snarled as he grabbed her roughly and threw her down onto the couch, climbing on top of her. Wet, sloppy kisses were on her neck as rough hands pulled at her scant clothing.
Harley glanced at the glass on the table beside them.
Joker's cell phone beeped and he checked the screen and then pocketed it while nodding to Cobblepot.
"My thugs and maniacs are here." He said and then clapped his hands together and sat up, charged with a sudden jolt of electricity. A wide, sinister smile split his features and Cobblepot winced at the sight.
Someone pounded on the door and it was flung open by a burly looking man with a worried expression on his face.
"Boss, we got a problem," he blurted and then looked back and forth between Oswald and Joker. "In the Ice Cave," he swallowed.
"What the hell is it?" Cobblepot stood and ambled over to the door.
"It's Harley, it's pretty bad." The man said, clearly distressed. Oswald followed the man down the back hall and Joker followed wanting to know what exactly "it's pretty bad" meant. This would not bode well with his plans.
It was bloody, a gas station attendant was wailing, hands covering his face. When they entered the room the man uncovered his face revealing cuts on his face, neck and hands.
"Look what this bitch did to me!" The man appealed to them.
Oswald approached the man and Joker looked over toward the acrylic partition against which Harley cowered, holding a broken champagne glass. She looked up at Joker. She was covered in blood spatter. The penguin seemed only mildly interested and gave an odd honk.
Joker approached her and held a hand out to her and she blinked up, noticing him for the first time.
"Oh" she said and blinked at him.
Joker held a hand out to her. She gazed at him blankly and he shook his hand at her. She took it and his gloved fingers closed around her pale ones as he pulled her from the floor to her feet. She leaned against the partition with her other hand and looked down at the penguin. Joker glanced at their still clasped hands and then at her face. He released her hand and she looked back at him.
"That bitch just came at me! Look at me! She attacked me!" The man yelled, smearing a bloody hand on his face.
"I attacked you?" She shrieked back at him and there was a mix of fear and anger in her eyes. Red marks on her pale, bare skin threatened to bruise as tears welled in her pretty blue eyes.
Cobblepot shot her a glare. Harley sniffed and wiped her eyes and took a step toward them.
"I didn't attack him." She said with a slight tremble in her voice. "He made the first move."
"Harley, this is a damn mess." Cobblepot said angrily as the dancer shrank back almost against Joker. Cobblepot looked up at him and then back at Harley and shook his head.
"Guess you two should be properly introduced, if you haven't been already." He muttered peering at Joker. He knew, he just wanted to hear Joker to say it.
"Joker, this is Harley Quinn. Harley, likewise" he said fixing a glare at her through his monocle. Harley averted her gaze from her bosses and looked at Joker. He tilted his head at her and she wrapped her arms around herself and looked back at Cobblepot.
"Care to explain yourself, Harley?" Cobblepot spoke around a cigar he was lighting.
"I told you I aint a hooker!" She snapped at him. "The guy got grab happy and then decided he was 'gonna get his money's worth.'" She spat and then looked at Joker who looked back amused.
"Joker, you mind taking out the garbage on your way out?" Cobblepot said not looking at him. Joker chuckled and gave Harley a once over before heading to the door.
"I'll consider it a favor." He said grabbing the man roughly, forcing him to his feet.
Joker mused at his unconscious body lying in the trunk of the car and then tossed the crowbar he'd used to subdue the man in beside him.
He slammed the trunk closed and walked around the car to sit in the backseat behind the driver; the man beside him glanced at him before finding something more interesting to look at. He'd called the trio in to pick him up help him deal with Gambol. He obviously made them uncomfortable and he was good with that. Not too scared but not too familiar, that was a suitable blend in a hired hand as an extreme in either direction made a man do silly things and then they were unreliable at best.
The fact that he'd dragged one of the denizens of 'Pervert Row' with him and then locked him in the trunk of their car helped to throw them off from any preconceived notions they'd had. Most likely they were wondering what they were going to use him for, or what he'd done to piss off the Joker.
The guy was one of those men who sat in the front row at strip clubs and never left their seats, staring at the dancers until their images were burned into their memories.
They were the only men who ever ordered coffee.
This one had tried to put his hands on the girl Joker had tapped to work for him which had been a big mistake on his part. He doubted that Maroni would give half a shit if the guy had actually raped her, or murdered her. Both were very likely and from the look on her face, she had known it. As a sex worker, her death would go unnoticed except by a few friends and her shamed family. The police probably wouldn't even investigate it. She'd made her bed in society's eyes. Cobblepot had been worried about a little police action and having to repaint the walls and clean the furniture, not about her.
The odds of her ending up much better off working for him weren't very good, but at least he wouldn't do the kinds of things the denizens of 'Pervert Row' dreamed about in their darkest fantasies. He'd seen what men were capable of doing to women, and women like her were regarded as subhuman. They were diminished to objects, and you could do anything to an inanimate object.
Anything your dark little heart desires.