Authors' Note: I would like to apologize in advance, dear readers. This FanFiction is currently saved on my computer in one huge file and splitting it up is not an easy task. It's not finished but I'd like to think we are a little over halfway done. It's a long story. Please be patient with me (Katie) as I attempt to get it into chapters. It will take me a little while. Comments and intelligent criticism are appreciated. Please review if you enjoy it. :)

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He sighed. He was very tired of sitting. Impatient Joker. He grinned to himself as he smashed the security camera. He had thirty seconds. Plenty of time. Abracadabra. Oh wait. That's a magician...close enough. The alarm bell started to ring merrily. Music to his ears.

Harley got up, frustrated. Why couldn't she sleep? Was it because she hadn't seen him? No. That couldn't be right. But it was. It was getting hot in her room. She quickly changed into some cotton shorts and plain t-shirt. Her phone buzzed in her purse. Who would be calling her at this hour? She picked up and heard Leland's voice. "He's escaped." She knew what that meant. "We think he might be coming to see you. Harley, are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry. I'll call if anything happens." She closed her phone and dropped it back into her bag

The Joker breathed the fresh night air. How wonderful it was to see the stars peeking out of the dark clouds again. He was a free man. He'd first gone to one of his old hideouts that he knew hadn't been compromised...probably one of the last ones that old Batsy didn't know about. An abandoned toy factory in Gotham's ghetto. He'd opened his trunk and dusted off his suit. The purple looked so dashing compared to the straight jacket. He tied his green tie effortlessly and slipped into some shoes. He felt so light without all the chains as if he was floating on air. He whistled as he picked up the file he had managed to snatch from the record room. He opened it and read slowly out loud, "Harleen Quinzel. Blond. Blue eyes. 5'5". Address..." He put a pale finger on the label and shut the file. He was on his way.

Harley was curled into a little ball on her bed, worried sick. What if the police picked him up? What if he got badly hurt? That would be so horrible. She shivered at the thought. Poor Pooh, out there in the cold all alone.

The Joker climbed up the outside of the building. Apartment number 305 it said. Piece of cake. He reached her window and knocked. His fingers tapping a rhythm on her window. He saw a light on and knew she must be here. That was good.

The sudden noise sent Harley's heart beating at a marathon pace and her mind spinning in circles. She got up and walked towards her window, looking through it cautiously. It was him! She shoved it open with some effort and stepped back a little. What did she do know? Part of her wanted to jump him as soon as he came into the room. The other part wanted to rush to her cell phone. "Joker?"

He grinned and easily lifted himself though her window into her room. "Did you miss me, Harlequin? I missed you," he said it teasingly but his eyes were serious. He looked her from head to toe. Her hair was down and tangled and she had huge bags under her amazing eyes. He put his hands on both cheeks, framing her face. "Did he hurt you? What happened? I don't remember much," he said softly.

She leaned into his touch gently. "He pushed me. I hit the floor and then I don't remember much. I woke up in the hospital." Her eyes closed for a second, then opened slowly. "Thanks." She looked him over quickly, to make sure he was okay from his run. He was more than okay. His suit looked stunning on him. So much better than those rags they dress the patients in.

He ran his right hand through her hair touching her scalp gently. She winced when he touched the spot where her head had collided against the floor. His eyes suddenly became hard. Anger poured through him. "Not completely unscathed are we, angel?" he said viciously spitting the words out. He really really really hoped the Riddler died a terrible painful death. He would be sure it happened. The Joker felt disgusted that he had even touched her. "I would love to break something," he confessed speaking the thought out loud. Breaking things always made him feel so much better.

Despite the instinct telling her to run, her heart made her stay. He needed someone just as much as she did. He was just as alone. Gently, she took his other hand, holding it with both of hers. It was so cold. "I'll be fine." Thanks to you, she added silently.

He suddenly felt too close. He pulled away. Sitting down on her bed. He laid back. He hadn't slept in a very long time and he didn't plan on it anytime soon. He sighed and pressed his nose to the sheet. It smelled like her. That scent again drove him insane. He looked back at her, "You know, villains are really good people to hang out with. Danger and excitement is always over the rainbow." It wasn't helping him that her legs were bare and breathtaking. It was distracting and he was easily distracted.

She smiled at him, sitting down on the other side of her bed. "God, I'd lose my job in a second if they knew about this." She then noticed that the framed picture was still on her bed. With a blush forming suddenly, she snatched the picture away, trying to find a good place to put it. It would not be good if he found out she kept a framed picture of him with her at all times.

His curiosity was more intrigued by her expression. He needed to teach her a few things about hiding things. He sat up scooting closer toward her. "Let me see it," his request was more of a command than anything else. He reached for the picture, his hand circling around her small wrist.

With a blush creeping across her cheeks, she held the portrait out to him. The back of the frame was facing him, so he wasn't able to see it quite yet. She looked at the picture, feeling more embarrassed than she could ever remember. Her fingers loosened on the frame and she felt the weight leave her hands. Please, don't let him think she was crazy. How ironic.

He took the picture almost jerking it out of her hands in haste. It was of him. How darling! He touched a finger to the glass and he looked at her from under his eyelashes. "So...do you keep this to stimulate ideas?" He said it easily, his voice rich with suppressed laughter. He had stimulated a few ideas. She was so crazy. Perfect little Harlequin. He smiled.

She felt her face go ten shades of red darker, "No! I don't do that!" Harley turned, pretending to look at something, so that she could hide her face behind a curtain of hair. She crossed her arms over her chest, an obvious body language sign that meant she felt uncomfortable. "I just like having it around. That's all!"

He grinned, "So, you like having me around? I like having you around too, kitten!" He set the picture on her nightstand and got up moving toward the kitchen. He looked out of place in such normal, boring surroundings. He opened the refrigerator. He had gone without food for a long, long time and even the Joker had to eat. He really wanted a pie, badly. However, the alcohol looked quite nice too. He grabbed a whole bottle and ripped the top off. He hadn't had any drink in what seemed like all eternity.

Harley looked over in the direction of the kitchen. The bottle had made a distinct popping noise. She smiled a bit to herself. That wine had been sitting in there forever, because she hadn't had anyone to drink it with. She didn't like drinking wine by herself. It always seemed so sad. She sauntered into the kitchen, hips swinging back and forth. "No booze at Arkham. God that would suck." She liked to have her wine every now and then.

He grinned at her and put the bottle to his lips. It tasted good. Really really good. He felt the sweet, warm liquid travel all the way down to his stomach. He held the bottle out to her, "It does suck. It's always nice to get drunk sometimes. I'm not held accountable for my actions then." Losing control was fun when he was drunk. Everything always became a blur. His stomach growled. He cleared his throat, "Got any food?"

"Yeah." She grabbed the bottle and took a swig. Pink wine was sweet. It was so much nicer than nasty biter red wine. She bent over while she looked in her fridge for something sweet. Without turning around or standing up she said, "Do you want ice cream, pie, or cake?" She had a ton of junk food. People were always surprised because she was so skinny. Well, she ate it, just not that fast.

He leaned over the refrigerator his arm touching hers. "Oh. You do have pie after all. What kind?"

"Chocolate creme pie." She answered, grinning over at him. Harley took another gulp from the bottle, getting the pie with her other hand. This was getting fun! Another giggle escaped her lips. So what if those stupid tight-wads at Arkham found out about this! This was so worth it!

He took the pie from her and grabbed her hand pulling her back to the bed. She didn't hold her liquor well. He laughed. Just fine with him. Easier to take advantage of someone drunk. He sat down on the bed pulling her with him. The pie was tipping precariously.

She fell into another fit of giggles, landing half-way on his lap, the bottle still clenched tightly in her hand. Harley held it up to his lips, waiting for him to tip back his chin so that she could pour the wine into his mouth. This was all like a dream she had once, which was kind of disturbing in a way. She couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. Anything that she thought of sounded really stupid.

He tipped his head back complying but not drinking much. He stuck a finger in the whipped topping of the pie and tasted it. Mm. Creme. He got another fingerful and put it on her cute, button nose. "Hold still," he commanded softly leaning forward. His tongue touched her nose and licked off the sugar. Much, much better.

Harley laughed, leaning forward when he was done. She paused for a second, losing the giddy look, only to have it replaced with a much more serious one. God, she wanted to kiss him so badly. Would he want her to? Would that be okay? She bit her lip a bit, a sign that most people would realize meant a kiss was coming. He should get it. He was smarter than most people.

He set the pie down on the overloaded nightable shoving his picture toward the side. He put both hands on her neck and pulled her forward roughly gluing his lips to her. His heart sped up rapidly pounding in his chest. He was really hot. Everywhere. Burning up. He traced her gorgeous lips with his tongue. Damn she tasted so good.

Her lips parted obediently as her hands searched out his skin. Damn. He was wearing like fifty layers of clothes! She let her fingers brush against his shoulders as she tugged at his jacket, finally letting it drop to the floor when it was off. Next came the tie. She flung it across the room, wrapping her legs around his waist. God he was amazing kisser. No one would ever believer her if she told them, but it was true.

His hands slid up her long legs. She was warm and absolutely glowing. Her hair was like sunlight. He wanted her so badly. His hands skimmed up her waist pulling her shirt up. His touch was light on her stomach. Her skin was so smooth. Perfect. She was perfect for him. He was going to die of pleasure. His tongue tangled with hers driving him mad. He was losing control. His hands were shaking with the effort to hold back. He gripped her closer to him. Her shirt was almost off. He wanted to see her all of her. Now.

Next came his button down shirt. That was fairly easy to get off. She ran her fingers along the truly marble colored skin. It was so soft, yet strong. Every muscle was toned and there was no excess fat to spare. The next article of clothing wasn't as easy to get off. His pants took a little effort, so they had to switch positions. He was on top of her now, which suited her just fine.

The Joker had to tear his mouth away to get her shirt over her arms. Her bra was black and lacy at the top. He pulled her up just enough so he could reach behind and unhook it. He threw it across the room and took a moment to admire her. He groaned, "Harlequin." He took her firm breast in his hand and felt her nipples tighten. He skimmed his lips across her collarbone working his way up her neck to her ear. He took her earlobe in his teeth and pulled gently. Explosion was imminent.

She moaned, arching her back so that her hips were pushed forward. It was instinct. Off in the distance she heard her stupid cell phone ring. Well, damn it, it was just going to have to ring. Her hands traveled all over his body, finally coming to his hips. God, it was so hot in here. She was burning up. After a small internal debate, she pulled her arms back up to his shoulders, not wanting to take of his boxers just yet. Too soon. Instead, she pulled him closer to her, finally letting their hips touch.

He pressed his weight against her pinning her to the mattress. The fucking phone was being ignored completely. He ground his hips against her anticipating. He touched the tip of his tongue to her breast. She tasted so good. Amazingly good and he was very, very hungry. He reached for the pie accidentally putting his hand in it. He looked up at her and grinned. He smeared his hand from her lovely shoulder down to the waistband of her shorts. He then began to lick it off starting at the bottom and working his way up. He paused flicking his tongue in her belly button than continued. Mmm. So yummy.

Breathing was becoming so difficult. Focusing on anything but the sensation of touch was mind-blowingly hard. She couldn't even hear her own moans anymore. All she could think about was his skin on hers. His tongue tracing patterns on her stomach and chest. The phone wasn't even audible to her ears anymore. She arched her stomach towards him, wanting more and more. The tension was coiling inside of her like a spring. Any second now that tension was going to snap.

He chuckled. She was moving fast. Once, he had finally gotten all the cream and chocolate off of her he reached for the almost finished bottle of wine drinking a huge swallow before pressing it to her lips. "Bottom's up, sweet." His voice was low and dangerous. He was getting a pleasant buzz now.

She did as she was told, gulping down the rest of the wine. Her mind was on fire, buzzing with way too much stimuli. Everything was moving and heated. Everything was alive. An insane giggle escaped her lips as she kissed him as passionately as she could. Then, everything started to dim at the edges. Things were fading back to darkness. Her eyes drooped slowly. Then, before she could realize what was happening, she was asleep, passed out from the alcohol.

He watched her eyes closed, confused. Realization suddenly dawned. "Harley, wake up," he patted her cheek and shook her head back and forth but she was gone. Into her dreams. He growled in frustration and peeled himself off of her. His body was throbbing with the need to have her. He slowly reached for the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down. He underwear matched her bra. He pulled those off as well and just looked. She was really perfect everywhere. He sighed and stood up stiffly pulling the covers down. He picked her up and tucked her underneath them. He shuffled to her shower and turned the water on freezing cold. He winced as the ice water touched him. There was no other way he could cool off though. He was too hot. He shampooed with the "sultry rose" shampoo and washed off. A few minutes later he was pulling back on his purple suit. He looked at her, pressing his red lips to her eyebrow. "Sweet dreams, angel." He walked out of the door and closed it. He had henchmen to hire.

The next day, Harley woke up slowly. Her head felt like it was going to explode. That would be so messy. She gripped it tightly, massaging her temples. "Shit..." Her voice was hoarse. She sat up in her bed, the covers flying off of her. It took her a good two minutes to realize why she was so cold. Then, she had to think about why she didn't have clothes on. Once she finally did connect the dots in her brain her damaged voice threw four words into the air, "Oh. My. Fucking. God!" They couldn't have done it could they? She was hyperventilating, unable to get enough air. Everything was so clear in her memory, up until the point she passed out of course. Her phone interrupted her thoughts, the ringtone never sounding so annoying. It was Leland, calling to make sure she was okay. She said she was just a little sick and that she had to go. God, this was so bad. Harley didn't think they had sex though. For one thing there was this longing still resting in the pit of her stomach, waiting for their next meeting. Damn it. How could her just leave her like this!

The Joker had walked the streets like a proud peacock that night. He felt high like he was walking on clouds. He'd almost seduced her completely and she would have given in He'd visited the leader of the Underworld Gotham gang and had set up a meeting where he could meet the criminals he was going to be hiring. Everything was going according to plan. He was in the abandoned toy factory just now drawing a new plan. This one was pure genius. Who would have ever thought of a hanging by a yo-yo? It was comic genius.

As the days went by, Harley sort of slipped further and further into a form of insanity. She couldn't name it. All she knew was that she was worried out of her mind. She had started smoking again. Usually she just had one or two cigarettes and didn't want one for a while. Now she was using about a pack a day. It was horrible. She would only smoke at home though, so that no one would smell the ash. The worst part was that no one even noticed. They thought was was perfectly fine. The idiots. He would've been able to tell she wasn't okay. He knew her better than anyone. If only he would come see her again so that she'd know he was alright. It was horrible only being able to hear about him on the news. The picture was now residing in her purse, so that she could look at it where ever and when ever she needed to.

Joker walked into the bar from the back entrance. He went directly to the private room. The room was small and the large table barely fit especially because almost every seat was full. The leader of the gang, a pudgy, sinister looking man with a cigar stood up, "Welcome, Joker. Glad you could make it. You're just in time." Suddenly the men pulled out guns. Every single one of the trained on the Joker. The man smiled, "Sorry, but we just can't have you stealing all our stuff. So..." The Joker's back tensed as he heard the one voice he hated the most in the world. "Joker, you are coming with me." They had turned him into Batman. BATMAN. Fuck. He turned around and faced Batman with an insane grin. "How terrible to see you, Batsy." Hate and anger poured through him like a tornado. He laughed harshly and swung a fist. It connected nicely with Batman's nasty face. But, Joker hadn't seen Batman holding a pipe which he knocked against the back of Joker's head with force.

The last thing Joker saw were bright colors before everything melted away.