You guys I am so sorry for the delay. I just haven't been able to write very well these past months and I am sooooo sorrry! I guess it was writer's block and everything I wrote sounded crappy, but anyway, it's obvious I have been able to overcome that and give you guys a long, and most wonderful update :) I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: M - Mature Content

I.

Harleen turned over and over in her bed, replaying the words of Katherine in such a monotone audio that it made her head begin spinning.

If the accusations were true, and the Joker –Jack- was a real person, did he truly escape his life to inflict chaos for his selfish motives or was there something else? Something Katherine wasn't telling her…

Sebastian mewed at her as she curled beside her and gave her a yawn. Harleen patted her head and then sat up straight, retrieving her purse from the nightstand.

She revealed the picture she requested to keep from Katherine to help further her examination of the Joker and it was a simple, of course older, family portrait of the family before Tilda's death, however, Jack's scars were red, vibrant and obviously healing…

Harleen growled in disgust tucking it back into her purse before lying back down with arms wide open. She let them fall, dangling over the side of the bed her mind reeled for long moments before something hit her-!

She bolted from the bed, stirring Sebastian. He sat up and watched her leave the room and crawled after her. She entered through the hallway and made her way into the bathroom, raiding into the cabinetry. She pulled out various hair products and make up cases until she found a bottle of eye make-up remover and skin milk that wipes off foundation…

She smirked slightly, before putting all other items back except for the two make-up removers –if she could hold him still long enough to removed the face paint, then maybe she'd convince herself, and give truth to Katherine's testimony, that the man posing as a mastermind criminal and murdering clown was truly a man after all…

II.

"So Harles," the Joker teased as he entered the session's room, followed by the guards, "what is it we'll be discussing today? Hmm?"

She ignored him and looked up at the guards, "could you two gentlemen do me a favor?"

"Yes, Doctor," One of them, said, "what is it?"

"Can you restrain him today, and by that I mean, including feet restraints?" She asked, now standing.

The Joker gave her a puzzled look before he was thrusted into a seat, and the foot shackles locked into the floor by the guard's assistance.

"Did he give you a hard time last time, like we"—

"Not at all," She interrupted, "we're just going to be doing a little exercise today and I don't want to um…" She glanced at the Joker as he glared at her through his black, ominous make up, "make him over-react, so to speak."

After the guards had finished securing the locks and handcuffs, bolted and chained to the desk-top they excused themselves, leaving Harleen and the Joker completely alone and for the first time, the Joker made no effort to speak to her.

"Alright," She said, fetching the plastic back beside her brief case. She brought out the make-up removers and cotton balls…

"You know," He growled, "you should know better than to try to remove my face paint"—

"At this point," She snapped, "You've confused me beyond all belief that I don't really care what threats you make in this session. I have some things I need to figure out on my own account about you and if it means removing your make-up," She dowsed some eye remover into a cotton ball and began approaching him, "then so be it."

"Don't. Touch. Me." He snapped, craning his neck to the side.

She stopped in her footsteps as his voice became dangerously low and his eyes formed into evil slits, narrowing on her. She couldn't even breathe for a moment as she stood facing him, holding the damp cotton ball.

She finally took a deep breath before she was upon him.

He moved and waned a lot in vain attempts to free himself of his bondage but nothing was working. He growled profusely as the cold, oily liquid rolled over his eyelids and he started to quake. He shook intensely as she continued to move, with his movements and jerks, to dab the paint off.

As the blackness was rubbing clean and the peachy pale skin color was on display, she could easily tell his eyes were a dark, omniscient green. They resembled somewhat a of forest color, almost too dark to be mistaken for a dusty gray, however, there were patches of bright emerald bursting into starburst. His eyes were unmistakably, and terrifying beautiful.

"That wasn't so bad…" She said, reproaching her desk and squeezed some skin milk in the palm of her hand. She lathered it with on palm and in the other held a few more cotton balls.

She was just about to touch his face when he craned his head away once more, glaring at her with pure evil boring into her eyes. His eyes were now changing, she supposed to do to his angry mood into the blackest they could, resisting the emerald to shine through.

"Do you really have to make this difficult?"

He didn't answer; he just stared glared at her. He twitched, and nicked his fingernails into the wood of the desk. His eyes were flickering back and fourth from her hands, to her eyes as she scanned his face. Her stare was impenetrable of course, as she stared solemnly at him and he licked the corner of his mouth once more.

"Suit yourself then," She snapped before fluently slapping the lather on his cheek. He wrestled again, shaking his shackles forcibly and then his lash out became slow. He squeezed his eyelids shut as the lather completely engulfed his face. The paint was of smearing and running dreadfully, causing his scarlet grin to curve downward, into a ruddy, blood shot frown, accurately depicting his current emotions. She wiped and dabbed continuously at his cheeks and she could hear the vibrations of his growl, rumbling deep in his throat. Skin color was beginning to reveal itself, however the silence and intense situation was driving Harleen mad. She didn't want to upset him but…she was doing this for her benefit, the only thing keeping herself from going crazy with Katherine's testimony.

"Joker," She said stern as he continued to move and wriggle from her touch, "please…? I am not even causing physical pain –why do you have to make this process harder than it really should"—

"It's not about the make-up coming off, Harl," He detested, flickering his cold lucid stare at her, "it's about control. I. Don't. Like. Being. The. One. Controlled."

"Shedding a little skin isn't loosing control"—

"Being restrained against my will," He growled, "is."

She wiped him down until nothing was left of the greasy white and red make-up…

Her jaws dropped slightly as she gawked at him. It was him, she thought, staring absolutely starstruck at his appearance. It wasn't exactly beautiful, because of the pink scar tissue rutting over top his lips and cheeks but something mystified her about his appearance, he was absolutely flawless everywhere else and what stunned her the most was how much younger he looked –she could've predicted him looking much older with the way the paint sagged against his skin but she was simply captivated. He was…so very…

He stared at her, with uncontrollable twitches and irks, he glared darkly, reposition himself within his bindings.

"You really are man," She whispered, pulling out of the plastic bag this time the picture Katherine lent her, "you really are…Jack Napier."

When he revealed him the picture, his eyes changed instantly from the dark olive green into a raging black and gray oblivion, completely scaring Harleen. She withdrew her hand and clutched the picture.

"And ah, just where. Did. You. Get. That? Hm?"

"I managed to dig around in your former life, Joker and found that you had a wife and you even had two kids. Tilda and Michael," She paused, "Although Michael isn't your and Katherine's child, Tilda was and she died, causing you to got in post-traumatic depression. Did you know that often leads to aggression and causes people to become very, very violent? Hah," She mused, "not so crazy after all, are you? Just a"—

"I have boundaries!" He suddenly raged, ripping himself a little further from his shackles and she could visibly see red marks from the circulation and struggle he was putting up. The red flesh rose and tainted his skin but his eyes narrowed in a tiny slits and it frightened her. She lost her grip of the picture and fluttered to the floors as she began shaking.

"And to think I hah, actually piitiied you when you got smashed from that loon the Scarecrow –no, you're just like the rest of these doctors, always meddling with something you can never understand and"—

Something ticked inside Harleen's head just that second and she felt her lungs burst in fury. Her face became red and blotched, and she could feel tears resurface from all the frustration.

"I did it because I cared! I did it because I wanted to know who you were for Christ Sake"—She was cut off instantly.

"Ooh ho hoho! You cared? Hah, well, thank you for concerning yourself so deeply about me Harley because you will regret this. I ah, hahah, can pr-o-mis-ee you -you will regret everything you've done. Ever heard that saying, oh yea, don't play with fir-ee, or you'll just get bur-ned, and Harley, m'dear, you're not ah, just going to get burned, you're going to char –and I'll be the one to ah, dump your ashes when I escape this nut house!"

She collected her things in a panic, almost in utter rage and crossed her eyes at his own. She angry, yes, but scared…? Most definitely and for the first time, Harleen Quinzel was scared of the Joker when leaving him within that sessions room.

III.

"What's the matter," Amanda asked, seeing Harleen clock out unusually early, "you look terrible."

"Huh?" Harleen asked, jumping slightly, gathering Gordon's files on the Joker for this week, "Oh! Nothing, um. I just-just have to run these by Gordon this afternoon, that's all."

"Are you sure? You look spooked, Quinzel." Amanda commented, watching Harleen collect all her things and heading out of her office. Amanda followed and watched her lock the door behind them.

"I just…I just need some fresh air, that's all." She answered, pulling a stray bang away from her face and rushing down the hallway.

"I saw that you took all the Joker's face make-up off," She called after her and Harleen turned to her, staring as a shiver was sent up her spine when replaying the mad man's threat, "pretty bold, if you ask me."

"I-I just…it's just unnecessary for him to keep all that on." Harleen answered.

"Yea, well, don't be going around setting him off, Quinzel. He skipped Recreational Room today because he tried choking a hallway guard. He seems, well, there's no better way to say this but he seemed pretty pissed off."

"Yea, I know…I heard." Harleen shook uncontrollably.

"Have a good night," Amanda waved before disappearing down the hallway leaving Harleen standing with a shake in her step. Her breath began hitching uncontrollably and finally she began walking very fast in the opposite direction for her exit.

"Yea…" She whispered, "you too. You too."

IV.

"Here you are," Harleen said, shakily, wiping her forehead and handing Gordon the files with her other hand.

It obvious something was frenzying inside her, he could tell by the smeared eye make-up and the bleeding lipstick.

"Oh, well, thank you Doctor, may I ask," He pointed, with a slight chuckle, "something…? Wrong?"

"Huh-oh, no. No. Not at all, just…over tired. Heh," She laughed, slightly, before turning her heels up and walked down the hallway.

"Alright…" Gordon blinked at her skittishness, "take care, then."

V.

It was late when Harleen made it back to her loft. She had to drive off some of the steam and at points she was so scared she started to almost cry. She kept hearing his threat, those dark; greatly anger words reverberate through her head.

She needed a drink. A lot to drink and just as she entered her apartment something felt aloof; her balcony door was open…

She quietly set her things down, and removed her heels to become very quiet. She searched for Sebastian but saw him nowhere and what was more unusual, her mail was retrieved and sitting on her table.

Harleen's breath hitched in her throat and she gulped hard. All she could think about was that he made it out –for God sakes, he was here, right now and he was about to kill –

"So," Someone growled from the shadows overcastting the hallway. Harleen jumped at the looming figure and fell upon her table, holding her chest, "you're Doctor Harleen Quinzel?"

Batman stepped from out of the shadows, holding up some of her papers from her home office and stared at her through his mask.

"Oh god!" She snapped, some sort of relief came washing over her when she saw him but something uneasy captivated her with his nightly visit –and to her place, off all places to be patrolling. Her head was spinning from the earlier unkempt thoughts running around in her head and she slumped over, feeling desperate.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like, bust someone else in Gotham"—

"You didn't answer my question," Batman pronounced, approaching her, "Harleen?"

"Yes –well, yes, who did you think I was? And what if I wasn't, why would you just walk into someone's apartment without"—

"How much progress have you made with him?"

"What-? Oh, the Joker. He's…honestly, nothing, I have made no"—

"How'd you come upon this?" He flashed the printed copy of the news article of Jack Napier's death and funeral arrangements.

"What gives you the right to come through my house and start rummaging through my things! I know you're protecting the city and all but that doesn't mean you can just waltz in and start touching my stuff!" She snapped, averting her eyes from his own and approached her pantry. She pulled out a bottle of wine and popped the top, no longer watching him.

He quietly observed her through his cowl, watching her nervous movements as she poured the red, vibrant liquid in a glass and dowsed it down in seconds.

"You know," He said, "rummaging through anyone past can be quiet dangerous, especially if it's dealing"—

"Look," She snapped, breathing deeply as her throat twisted on fire from the alcohol coursing through her stomach; "if you're here to lecture me about him, then don't waste your time. I know it was wrong, I just…I just –I don't know. It was wrong and now it's too late," She whined, pulling her hand over her head as she leaned against the counter, pouring more wine into the glass, almost filling the top.

"What happened?" He interrogated.

"Heh," She chuckled, dowsing down more wine, "what happened? Pft. He flipped. And now I am dead woman. So what? I had to know –what would you do in a situation like this?"

"Don't get involved with him," He growled, setting the papers on her table, "You don't actually believe he'll ever be able to return the feelings," He growled, facing her, "do you Doctor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She snapped, feeling an intense, hot tingle burst within her cheeks –she started blushing at such an accusation but something felt incredibly unruly about it. Did she really do that because she…?

"Don't ignore the fact that over the time you've spent evaluating the Joker, you've begun to horde feelings for the man," He spoke calmly, "because I know, Harleen, you'll just be another pawn in his plan and as soon as he done with you," He said, approaching her balcony window, sliding open the glass door, throwing a shrouded glance at her, " he'll kill you, just like all the rest of his"—

"Some men," She interrupted, feeling light headed and her mouth viciously loose from wrath "like you, rise by virtue, but others like the Joker fall by sin –and I am no different…"

"I hope, for your sake, you are different," He growled before disappearing from the balcony. Her eyes averted from the window back to her wine glass and she swallowed the rest of its contents.

The burning sensation made her thrive wildly. Her throat begged for more and then just as she poured more in she realized that she had just incriminated herself, her feelings were unguarded and completely unleashed by the influence of her drink and she stared panicky to the balcony. Did she just defend the man who vowed to take her life? Did she just admit to loving…?

She clutched the glass tightly in her hand before loosing it. She dropped it on the floor, allowing the red wine to splatter and the glass shatter at her feet and she clumsily ran to the balcony window, staring into the night, not seeing where he must've hidden himself now but she clenched her fist.

"You're wrong!" She called, crazily, feeling tears beginning to prick her eyes from the unwinding emotions overtaking her fragile mind and her thin frame as she started to tremble, "you're wrong!" She screamed louder.

Her body crumbled and she fell on her knees, grabbing the balcony post, and leaning her head against it's ice cold bars and felt the icy wind curl itself around her lament, broken figure.

"You're wrong…" She whispered before allowing the tears to come rushing over her face.

VI.

Harleen's head throbbed uncontrollably. The constant thudding pain, banged against her skull, pounding ever so roughly and she tried to concentrate as she walked down the hallways of Arkham.

Her vision was blurred and all the shapes and voices of distant people made her eyes hurt. Her mouth was still dry but even if she felt as horribly as she did, she managed to hide it within the flawless make-up and sweet smelling shampoo and hairspray she kindled her hair will.

It was long, flowing and sitting at her shoulders. And she managed to pull off her best outfit this day simply because she wouldn't let others know of her fate. She had slapped on her best pair of black stilettos, gray tights (held by her garter) her pencil skirt, with pinstriped white stripes, and her scarlet red blouse, all contained with in her pinstriped, white and black vest.

She had to do something, to keep her mind off his words and especially off her work ahead. If putting on her best face, her best clothes and looking her absolute best was going to mask her unkempt emotional break down then so be it, she thought. Thank-god, she mentally praised, as she took the next left hallway, towards her office, she didn't have to meet with him today. At least she thought, just as she approached her office, she would live to see another day.

Her briefcase felt so heavy, slinging her hand and she stumbled somewhat, trying to see past the rushing blurs and suddenly she realized that people were running…

She breathed heavily; hyperventilating trying to understand why everyone was rushing around her and others stared at her crazily.

"Harleen! It's code red –what are you doing out here? Whoa," Amanda caught her from behind, "you okay? Did you just get here?" She pushed Harleen along, and faster towards her office.

"Code red?" Harleen questioned, feeling uneasy and her stomach starting to burble –this has got to be the worst hangover, she held her head with her free hand, in the history of hang overs.

"Yes, Harleen, code red. One of the patients has gone missing," Amanda rushed along Harleen. Harleen's eyes were crazily scanning the approaching blob of her doorway and Amanda helped her along.

"…Harleen," She whispered, "it's the Joker. He's got out. Stay in here. We have reason to believe he's looking for you."

Harleen's eyes widened. Her chest started to heave and her eyes were starting to mist. Oh my God, she panicked; slinging open her office door and Amanda shoved her in.

"Just stay put. Lock the door. All the doctors have to stay put until find him."

"Wait! Amanda," Harleen slurred, "don't leave me! Please"—

"We'll find him. You have to be safe, so stay in your office until I call your office phone, nothing's going to happen to you."

"When did he go missing?" Harleen tried to concentrate on her burring picture of Amanda with widening eyes. Her chest started to heave again and she felt all her saliva concentrate on the back of her throat. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't even think!

"Seven o clock this morning."

"What! That was"—

"I know! Three hours ago –will you just"—

"Alright, alright," Harleen panicked, closing the door on her and locking it. Harleen scanned the room. Nothing had been touched, nothing at all, she observed through blurring visions and spitted scenes of the sunlight pouring through the blinds of her windows.

Thank God she thought that at least he hadn't been in her room. Her desk was clean; her chair turned facing her bookcase the rug still in the same place. Some relief came rushing through her mind and just as her headache started to subside, and she leaned again the door, dropping her briefcase on the floor, she heard her chair squeak.

"Well, hello, Harley," He turned around, growling, and narrowing his eyes on her own.

Oh no, she thought, freezing in place and eyeing him just as her visions started to piece together into a clear bubble. Her eyes flickered uneasily and her breath stopped in her throat.

She turned quickly to unlock the door but was so misplaced and unkempt she couldn't focus. She heard him laughing and snickering at her and she flashed back over, pushing all her weight against the doorway.

"Oh don't go," He whined, "wouldn't want this place to blow, now ah, would we?"

"Bl-blow?" She gasped, heaving greatly through her nose and she tried licking her lips but felt too shocked to move.

"But of course!" He laughed, standing up and throwing his hands in the air, "why would I go through all this trouble, Harls, if you get away just that easily? Hmm? I thought you knew me all too well to think it could ever be just. That. Easy."

"Joker I'm sorry"—

"You know what I hate more than anything," He growled, approaching her, "more than anything, and everything, in this world," He came closer and Harley cringed, feeling the doorknob, "hmm?"

"No," She whimpered when he was no more than a foot from her, and now when he stood, he actually towered a good three or four inches over her, she started to shrink from his touch.

"N-n-no? No?" He mocked her voice with high pitch frequency and gently grasping her chin between his fingers. She flinched but he firmly made her look at him.

"Apologies. I hate apologies!" He growled, pushing her against the door forcibly and leaned his body into her own. She shook crazily, trembling at the touch and at the stale warmness for his breath against her neck. He leaned in and caressed his breath against her ear, making her quake feverishly.

"Because an apology is just another excuse."

Suddenly, he grasped her shoulders, knocking her behind him and sent her crashing to the floor.

Harleen hit the carpeted floor, sliding head first into her desk. Her headache instantly came back and she started to whimper. She thought she must've been dreaming, she had to have been but the pain was too vivid for her fabricate such a thing. She leaned against her elbows, hearing him laugh in rhythm of his footsteps approaching her.

She tried to regain her composure by throwing her fist at him when he bent down to grab her but it only tangled in his favor; he grabbed her wrists and thrust her up against her large wooden desk. His body dangerously close to her own and he made her lean her whole body against the wood.

"Oo!" He laughed as she continued to struggle and fight against him, "I like it rough too! You never mentioned that Harley but nonetheless. I. Am. Entertained. Hehe hahahoho!" He snickered, breathing hard against her.

"Let me"—

He silenced her by backhanding her hard and slamming her against the wooden desk even harder. Harleen tried to move but he had her pinned all too securely. She suddenly started to become Closter phobic and jerked crazily under his touch; his face even more terrifying without his make-up on.

"Let me go, let me go, let me go! Oh no –hhehahaho ho ho!" He mocked, pushing her roughly against the desk even harder.

"Did you let me go, Harley? When I told you. Not. To. Touch. Me? Hm?" His voice became dangerously low.

She couldn't answer, she was too frightened to respond but he lifted her body slightly before ramming her back into the desk. A sharp pain sliced into her lower back and she gasped and writhed underneath him.

"Huh?" He pressured.

"No! No!" She whimpered.

"Riight, so! What makes you think I wouldn't return the favor hmm?" He said, distracting her by pulling out his prized possession. He managed to hide it safely without anyone catching him, and until now, he hadn't had a better reason to use it again. He revealed his knife.

Harleen's eyes widened at the gleam of his weapon and tried to get him off but she didn't prevail and suddenly, something crazy went through her mind…What if, she thought, she beat him at his own game? Gave into his demands and maybe, he'd let her live –she had to try it she panicked, she had to believe that there was some way to escape her impending doom and she had to do something, so she tried to relax as she saw him grace the knife with his tongue. A shiver tingled in her spine as she tried to relax her shaking muscles. But the knife coming closer and closer to her was making her too uneasy!

"I'm going to show you the same humiliation you showed me," He spoke venomously, "when you took the liberty of taking my face paint off."

The Joker dug his blade deeply into Harleen's jugular, without breaking skin of course, of whom looked completely unafraid now at the thrill of such a sensation, coming close to the maker of her doom and gave him a devious glare.

She moved her body in such a way that his groin was now in between her thighs and she thrusted herself upward, catching him off guard and allowing her breath to push upon his lips. Her eyes flashed angrily as she pressed her neck harder against his knife.

"Then," She spoke softly into his ear, "by all means, humiliate me, Jack."

Something irked him when he heard her say his name but the fact that she did it so flawlessly made him sick to his stomach, nonetheless angry but so vivaciously turned on at such a feat she was taking, even when her life was held so small in the palm of his hands.

At that moment, something intangible twisted, and it turned achingly between the Joker's legs, perhaps it was his growing attraction to such a delectable opportunity at which she allowed him to advance upon, or if it was the fact that her eyes now show some sort of desire, even as his blade kissed her skin. He could visibly see the reddening irritation of the blade's pressure building upon her neck and it completely aroused him.

He quickly closed in on the space between them and dug his lips into her own, hungrily slipping his tongue between her mouth and forcibly grasped her rump, pushing her closer upon him.

This was unexpected, she moaned, feeling his tongue on her own and she even…liked it? She groaned as she ground his hips into her own and a growing warmth starting to heat up down between her legs! Harleen tried to concentrate, beyond the focus of obviously animalistic sexuality of his taste, upon his knife and she gently, kissed back, removed the knife from his hand, throwing it to the floor.

He seemed distracted enough, and now she could truly relax but now her problem, besides of course the throbbing headache that still pounded on her skull, was undoing what had already begun but something stopped her. Was this what she wanted, she thought, unconsciously, did she really want him…this badly? Did she even want to stop him?

She furiously kissed back, enjoying the attention all too much and shivered as he aggressively tore underneath her skirt, unclipping her garter, surprising her from the experience he must've had from previous encounters, so easily and shedding her of her tights. Her stilettos came off instantly and he ground his member against her feverishly.

The hardness elicited a moan from the back of her throat just as she clenched his hair and he started to nip and bite at her neck, as he tore off her vest.

"Let me see what you can do," She seethed dangerously in a low whisper, "since you're so good at degradation"—She started to unbuckle the standard issue of his attire, wishing the zippers and buttons of Arkham's suits were easier to maneuver.

"Heh," He snickered, biting and breathing into her neck, "Harley?"

"Hmm?" She moaned, feeling her blouse coming undone.

He groaned pulling her skirt down with a swift, pull and making her gasp but he was able to catch her, pushing her down even harder against the desk.

"..." He growled into her ear and just as the words rolled of his tongue, in that delicate, moist breath, he plunged into her, hard and callous. It actually hurt, bringing tears to her eyes but something split inside her, not physically, but mentally, she actually enjoyed the unkindness of his movement and it jerked something awfully disturbing inside her.

She pushed against him harder, wanting more and started to breath harder and coarser from his thick, rapid thrusts. Tears started to run down her face from the pain and desire but wrapping together in sick demented lust as she whimpered, holding onto his shoulders as he pressed her firmly into her against the desk.

He pounded furiously, never allowing any sort of groan or so much as a breath escape his throat. It was as if he wasn't enjoying himself but purely basking the glory of havoc he was pushing in her with. He became vapid, dangerous and even more forceful, slamming her head onto the desk.

"Ow"—

"Heh," He snickered crazily, pushing further within her, "not to your liking?" He teased, prying her hands off him and pinning them onto the desk behind her head. The position was making her uncomfortable and she tried to hold back the tears.

"Maybe," He groaned, finally, pounded harder this time, faster, pumping purely now from rhythm, "I should go harder"—He beat himself into her deeper, causing Harleen to moan and cry, "faster"—his pace increased, making her breaths coming unhinged, "…rougher, after all, m'dear," He wringed her hands further from her control and she started to writhe in pain, "you asked for the utmost humiliation!" He laughed.

But something wasn't clicking in her –shouldn't she not be enjoying this experience? She certainly was and it was beginning to scare her…

"Moan for me," He commanded, pushing greater into her hips, grinding roughly, "now."

Her lips creaked open, allowing his command to become reality and she lifted her head to meet his ear.

"You can do better." She challenged, knowing all too well she was in fact begging for more.

His eyes narrowed dangerously and now his uncanny position made it incredibly easy to hurt her. He twisted his body in such a way that he pulled her further on him and now he mercilessly ground uncomfortably within her. He started to become too enthralled by the general plea and lust in her eyes to pay much attention to his own pace and started to become too intense to realize that he had just come…

His eyes became wide and he suddenly pulled from her and pushed her roughly aside before eyeing her worriedly. When Harleen saw him glance at her within that brief moment of worry, she faltered in trying to recover her breath. He'd been in here too long –Amanda would come by any minute to check on her!

"Get out," She growled, attending herself, "now… I haven't seen you." She faked.

The Joker glanced at her with a smirk before approaching the doorway, and through a mischievous glance in her direction just as she was appropriating her attire.

"Thanks, for covering me, ah, Harley-girl, oh, and ah, by the way," He wagged his finger, "I was only bluffing about rigging this place –hahahahhee-hehe-hoho!"

Her jaw dropped when he dismissed himself out of the door and she slumped to the floor, holding her pounding head and rubbing her sensitive stomach. The flesh between her thighs were on fire, subsiding from such intensity and she managed to keep herself awake until she felt her fingers along the lining of herself…

She saw a white thick mucus lace her fingertips.

hope you enjoyed! Reviews are LOVE!