Welcome, readers! I wrote this in reaction to the shooting in California by that guy with serious male entitlement problems. He killed 7 women that I know of and wounded 7 others just because they rejected him. Maybe if he hadn't been so arrogant, thinking he was perfect-anyway, before I rage about that, enjoy this story about how Joker hates people with male entitlement problems and meets Harley when she's only 16, making him a young man as well. I apologize for the unimaginative title. I was raging when I wrote this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Joker or Harley, because if I did, you'd know by now. - With love to my fans, SevvyGirl.

Joker Meets Harleen Quinzel

"That's NOT OK!" Joker yells and shoots a guy at point blank in the head. The woman the man had had pinned to the wall screams and runs away, holding her torn dress up.

Joker doesn't even cast a glance at the man he shot; nothing more than garbage to him, and now useless. He HAD been a henchmen, now he was not. It was as simple as that. Joker looks at the ground and his scuffed shoes. He turns away from the woman's cries and walks towards the park. What had she been doing out here all alone at night?

No, he shouldn't have to ask that. She has as much business as anyone to be anywhere she pleases anytime she wants; it's the scumbags like the dead guy that make people ask questions. If it wasn't for these crazy men, maybe women would have a little more freedom; wouldn't have to worry about being raped in an alley because they tried to take a shortcut home.

It is things like this that don't fit into Joker's chaos theory. That's not chaotic; it's cruel. He scratches his head and wonders how anyone could think that they have a "male entitlement to women". What is this world becoming? This isn't what he wanted, where is the world going, leaving him behind? That guy makes the third rapist he's shot this week. What is going on? This isn't chaos or anarchy. He feels there is more respect in chaos and anarchy than raping someone because you can't get laid.

He sinks down beside a dumpster and puts his head in his hands, knees to chest, and just thinks. He'd never had thoughts of male entitlement, even when he was lonely. He'd never had much use for female companionship though. He would certainly never EVER rape anyone. How could anyone do such things? Sure, he'll pull a knife, slit a throat, cut out a heart even, but he wouldn't do it for such a reason as he felt like it. No, he has a CAUSE. Why can't these people see?

He laughs to himself; maybe he should change causes and forget about chaos and anarchy and instead put an end to male entitlement. But how would one go about this? Put an ad in the paper? Kill a prison block of rapists? Oh wait, half the rapists aren't being punished, or get a mere six months, or even a suspended sentence! But oh, if they catch the Joker, he's got to go back to Arkham, or Blackgate. Sure, he's blown stuff up, but it's for a REASON; at least he has a motive. Sure, he says he just DOES things, but that's a lie; it's all part of a bigger picture.

Joker realizes he has started to cry and his paint is running. Why has it all gotten so COMPLICATED? Who has time to worry about bombs and wars and politics when there are people being maimed because some idiot wanted to have a good time but couldn't pick up a chick. What makes them better than the woman, who just wanted to be left alone? Don't they realize that when they rape her, they're fulfilling their desire and destroying hers? Rejecting her rejection?

He tries not to sound sexist in his mind; bad things happen to men too of course, and there are bad women out there, but he can't help it; there are SO many BAD MEN. They call themselves "gentlemen" and "polite" and "charming" but they're really disgusting pigs.

Another thought intrudes: he could become a hero if he wanted to...but what would his name be? The Rape Killer...Anti-Rapeman? He's surely got a good start on killing the thugs. He looks up and is so surprised his gasps and fumbles his gun. Luckily it doesn't go off.

A girl in tattered clothes has somehow sneaked up on him and is looking down at him. "Are you alright?" she asks, looking from Joker to the dead guy and back.

Joker stares, mouth ajar. No one's ever really asked him if he was alright...especially right after he killed someone. He finally nods silently and she offers him a hand. He takes it and stands, sticking his gun in his coat. "What are you doing-" he stops before he can say, 'out here alone' and return to his original mindset.

"Helping you up...I saw what happened and I took off when you shot that guy and the lady ran...I was going to hit him with a pipe but you beat me to the strike. Then you started crying and I was over there," she says, gesturing to a pile of boxes, "thinking, 'Is that really the Joker, crying by a Dumpster?' and I figured I'd check on you," she rambles.

"Y-you should just go home...it's late..." Joker begins, trying not to look like he'd just been crying. He's thinking maybe he should shoot her since she's a witness to his tears and will probably spread horrible rumors about him for years to come.

"Uh...I am home," she admits, and points back to the boxes. "Why are you out here?" she asks curiously. "It's late," she smirks.

"I was just...taking a walk," he says lamely. It was true, but it was because he can never sleep more than two hours a night.

"It's dangerous to wander out alone at night."

"I know...that's what I was...reflecting on."

"You mean crying about?" she suggests. "You're not the only one who's cried because of the horrible people in this city. People like him," she gestures. "People who take what they want without thinking about what other people want...of course, some would say that would include you and your chaotic behavior."

"No...it doesn't include me!" he says, panicked. "It can't. I can't be a part of...of...THAT. I have a PURPOSE. Chaos and Anarchy doesn't include rape!"

"Are you so sure? It is unexpected. It is doing what you want. Perhaps you are in the wrong profession, Mr. Joker," she says, and seems to realize who she's talking to as his eyes get hard and his brow furrows.

He takes a step forward and grabs her collar. "How old are you?" he asks her.

"W-why do you want to know?" and he shakes her. "I'm 16," she mutters, looking away from his steely gaze.

"You going to tell anyone what you saw tonight?"

She shakes her head furiously no.

He shoves her back and she hits the wall of the alley, then trips and falls over a trashcan. She curls up on herself and he hits the wall in anger. She's right! He's just like them. He's...BAD.

He turns back to be a...gentleman, and offers his hand. "I'm sorry," he says. "But I can't be like them. You just don't see yet...what's your name?"

"Harleen," she replies, mouse-like. "Harleen Quinzel," she says, standing again.

"Well Harleen, I hope we meet again someday...but perhaps you should go back to your family...become someone...who do you want to be?"

"I wanted to be a nurse," she tells him truthfully.

"Then you go into the medical field and you do WHATEVER you want, little Harlequin, hahaha! And you show all these egotistical bast**** how to live...can you promise me that?"

"I'll do my best."

"Good, that's all I'm asking. Would you like me to walk you to the bus station?"

"I don't have any money though," she looks down.

"I think I can spare a bus ticket back to your home...they're nice, right?"

She nods, "I was silly to run away. I thought I had it rough, but now..."

He nods, not asking for an explanation. "Let's go, get your things."

She grabs a duffel bag from a box and he carries it for her to the bus stop, where he says goodbye to little Harleen and watches as the tailights fade into the distance.

Maybe he should change...be a...GOOD guy...

But nah, that wouldn't be any fun, and in the meantime, he's got all this Chaos and Anarchy stuff going on, which reminds him of a shipment of C-4 he was supposed to have the dead guy pickup, but now he'll have to do it himself. Then he'll have some henchmen put it on a hospital or something, and Kaboom blah blah blah, police, confusing, chaos, happiness. As long as he doesn't blow up the hospital Harleen works in in the future, everything will be A-OK.

So when she arrived at Arkham, he wasn't as surprised as he should have been, and he hasn't blown the place up yet. It gives him a place to think; a place to reflect on the horrors of the world and how he can make them better by showing people his reasoning. He just wants them to SEE what they're doing, while throwing in a pinch of chaos and a dash of anarchy into the mix.

And for some reason, when he loses his cool and hurts Harley and feels horrible about it afterwards, she always forgives him, and he can't be more horrified and relieved at the same time. Horrified and relieved that she would stay with him rather than saving herself from men like him. She was right; she still is; she always will be.

Oh, that dear Harley Quinn.

Please drop me a review or new ideas for a story! They really make my day. :)