Authors' Note: Ready for some action? Tell me what you think. :)
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He heard her breathing deepen. She was limp and relaxed like a rag doll. Vulnerable in his arms. He slid his arm from underneath her and gently let go. Her breathing caught once but didn't stop. She was asleep and hopefully would be for a long time. He had no trouble seeing in the dim light. His vision was well adapted to the dark. Silently, he opened a trunk and got out a purple suit. Perfect. He slipped out of the room closing the door behind him and made it outside of the building. Of course, he already had the address. He planned at the last details in his head as he walked through the shadows. James Thomson would have a pleasant evening tonight. Surprise visits were always full of giggles.
The Joker made his way to the small house. It was falling apart. The boards were rotten and the paint was peeling away. He couldn't even tell the original color. The yard was littered with junk. Old beer bottles and trash. Well, how nice and cosy. The Joker walked up to the doorway. He was tightly wound up with excitement. He hardly had this much fun in such a long time. The doorbell didn't work so Joker just pounded. The door looked like it would break under the stress of a few hard knocks. No answer. Tsk tsk. Joker was sure that Mr. Thomson was in. He kicked in the door which cracked and crumble under the weight. "Helloooo?" Joker called, his voice echoed through the house, "It's not very nice to not answer the door. Especially for guests." He heard movement in a back room. He grinned and waited. He heard a door creak and footsteps shuffle down the hallway. He leaned against the wall, hidden in a shadow. James Thomson popped around the corner. He looked wasted. His hair was matted and dirty. His eyes were glazed over with drunkness and who knows what else. He looked like a ox: strong and very stupid. This guy was big like a wrestler. Thomson had a shotgun in his right hand. He didn't have very good aim...
"Who the fuck are you and what the hell do you want?" Thomson grunted, his words were slurred. The Joker stepped out from the shadows. He was still grinning madly. Adrenaline poured through his veins. He could feel the anticipation and the tension. He could cut through the air with a letter opener. "How are you, James? You don't look so good," his voice was cheery. His pale, white fists were clenched. Thomson looked slightly stunned at those words, "How did you know my name? Who the FUCK are you?" The Joker shook his head, "Now. Let's just calm down. Have you ever known a Harleen Quinzel?" Thomson's eyebrows raised and his shotgun lowered. What an idiot. He tried to think but that's hard to do without a brain. He seemed to think the Joker was a nice, kind person. Moron. "Yeah. I knew a Harleen. Real well," Thomson grinned stupidly. The Joker's grin widened, "Oh. Really? Well. You see...I don't like people touching what belongs to me. You could call me a bit...protective. I especially hate a bastard forcing someone to have sex with them because they can't get it on their own. I think you fall into that category. Rape deserves a punishment. A very, very harsh punishment. I thought I do it myself to make sure the job got done right. Ready to get started? I thought so." The Joker moved so fast he was a blur. His fist connected strongly with the man's jaw. Surprised, Thomson stumbled back. His hold on the gun loosened. The Joker grabbed the man's fist and twisted it viciously. He heard a crack of bones and the gun clattered to the floor. Joker than hit the man again cracking a bone in his face. Finally, Thomson started to fight back. His efforts made the Joker even more excited. It made the victory so much sweeter.
The man got in one punch in Joker's ribs but Joker didn't even feel a thing. He started laughing insanely. The happiness spilled forth, frothing out like bubbles. The Joker hit the man again in the head. Over and over again. Thomson finally gave up and just tried to defend himself. He tried to say stop but blood was pouring from his mouth. The blows were harder and harder and soon the big man fell to the floor. The Joker grabbed him by the collar. He hoped he felt the pain. He hoped so much that he felt the fear and pain. Just as Harley had felt the fear and the pain. The violation. Joker dragged the man across the floor. The blood left a smear on the floor behind the body. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a tiny vial. It was filled with diethyl ether, an extremely flammable liquid. He poured it over the man's crotch and opened the box of matches. He lit a match and dropped it on the dark stain. It quickly caught on fire and started burning through the fabric. The Joker left, laughing hysterically. What genius. He waited until the whole house was on fire before leaving. The sun was starting to come up. He felt accomplished. That went quite well.
Harley turned over in the bed as her eyes slowly opened. She shouldn't have been able to roll that far without bumping into him. Her eyes shot open and her body lurched upward as she realized he wasn't there. "Mistah J!" She called out, slipping out of the bed quickly. Damn it was cold.
Joker grinned as he watched the greedy flames eat the entire house. He then looked at the rising sun. Shit. He should be back by now. He was running behind schedule. He ran down the sidewalk and happened to look down at his suit. It was a tad bit bloody. There was no way he could cover that up. Oh well. What would his excuse be? ...Fell off a building. That had a nice ring to it. Plunging to death but happening to land in garbage. Poor, pitiful me.
She ran around the warehouse, looking in every corner for him. Where could he be? What if the Arkham jerks had come and gotten him while she was asleep! What if Batman had come! "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God!" She repeated over and over, starting to get so worried that she felt sick.
The Joker walked up to the abandoned factory casually. The sun was pretty bright today which was slightly annoying. His eyes were pretty sensitive to light. He opened the door to the lovely lamenting of Harley. He laughed, "Honey, I'm home!" It was so homey sounding.
The air that was left in her lungs rushed out as she heard his voice. She ran to him, locking her arms around him, nearly crying. "I was so worried! I thought that Batty had come and gotten you or something awful like that!" Her heart was still pounding hard in her chest. God, he had scared her.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up. He spun around in a circle. "I'm still alive and well. A bit bloody that's all." He grinned. No one needed to know it wasn't his blood of course. His right side still hurt slightly from where he had gotten punched but...he was unscathed like usual.
Harley's eyes went wide again. "Blood?" She pulled back to look him over. "Oh God! How did this happen?" If it was Batman she would be so angry. Joker hadn't even done anything yet and that big bully was already beating him up!
"Welll..you see. It was up on the roof because I can't sleep at night and...I wasn't really watching where I was going. I seemed to have fallen off. I don't really remember what happened..." he said, letting her go. He started walking towards the stairs. He needed to change clothes.
"Oh, Puddin'..." She sighed. Why hadn't she heard the noise? What if he had been so badly hurt that he couldn't move? She would have just been sleeping away while he died! "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," he ground the words out, annoyed at her overbearing insistence on asking the same question over and over again. He walked up the stairs and flung open the door. Home again home again jiggy jig jig! He started taking off his clothes. "Harlequin? If you could have anything in the world what would it be?" he said glancing over at her. He had an itch. An itch to steal something. Something dangerous and extremely valuable.
"You, Mistah J!" She grinned, skipping over to where he was, sitting on the bed playfully. Really she didn't need anything else as long as he was around. Money would be nice, but she didn't need it.
He rolled his eyes. She was supposed to say something creative and charming. He sighed, "Well, kitten. I think you already got that one. How about something else...more material? Diamonds are a girl's best friend you know." He grinned. He really needed a challenge. He needed to prove he still had the skill and comic genius to sneak people's valuables from under their noses. It was an art and he was quite a talented artist. He hadn't painted in a while but...you never lose some things.
"Umm..." She thought about this for a bit. Maybe some nice jewelry to show off! "You know that really nice jewelry store on main street? There's a really nice ruby and black diamond necklace in there. I think they keep it in a vault at night though." That thing had to be worth millions.
He thought about it. Hm... that might just do. "How nice are the rubies? An excellent quality I suppose. They have to be if they are in that expensive shop." The Joker grinned. He pulled out a green shirt to put on under his new purple suit. How would they do it though? Suddenly, brilliance emerged. Right under their noses, of course!
"I don't even think that Bruce Wayne guy could afford these gems." She shook her head back and forth. Yeah that guy was rich, but he couldn't be that rich. Harley looked up at him and saw a grin on his face. "You've already got a plan?"
"I think so. I need to work out the finer details," he mused while walking over to a cabinet. It was full of blueprints. Old plans that were scraped and others that needed more work were all stuffed into this one overflowing drawer. A cataclysmic event would definitely occur if it all got loose. He finally found a blank piece of paper and a broken pencil. He tapped the paper thinking. It was always good to have an escape plan..and a backup.
Haley sauntered over to the table and sat down on the edge, just watching him. It was amazing to see a genius at work! Probably no one else had gotten to see this. To see his brain in action, plotting those amazingly hilarious schemes, was a gift.
He pressed the point of the pencil to the paper. He couldn't make himself put down all the thoughts jumbled in his head. He needed to. He needed some kind of logic, some medium to put the details on. He could smell her. The pheromones kicked in. She smelled delicate and sweet. His mouth watered and he felt his whole body tighten. He cleared his throat, "Kitten, you're distracting me."
"Sorry!" She squeaked, getting up from the table and walking back to the bed. That way she could still watch him without being too close. He was concentrating so hard! Comic genius was certainly not as easy as it looked.
He took a deep calming breath and started scribbling on the paper. He wrote down all the things he could think of and then re-read the list. Eyeglasses, laughing gas, safe opener...go in through back door, take out night watchman first, smile to security cameras... wait. He was missing something. Something important. He hit his hand on the desk in frustration. He needed an ending. A good ending to the show. He could just take the necklace and skip off into the sunset. He muttered something to himself and ran a hand through his bright green hair.
"What's that matter, Puddin?" Harley asked, despite her instinct to keep her mouth shut. Maybe she could help though. She had gotten through medical school after all. That means she had to be rather intelligent.
He ground his teeth wishing that Harley would shut up. "I need an ending, sweet. There has to be a grand finale to the show," he said between clenched teeth. He muttered to himself and started to draw on the paper. Maybe...maybe he could put fake Joker jewelry in the cases? No. Too much work, not enough time...
Harley put a finger to her lips and thought for a few seconds, "Why don't you just blow the place up?" She thought this was brilliant because it would cause a ton of damage! People would be out of work, priceless jewelry would be destroyed. Pretty much a win-win situation to her.
The Joker had had enough. "HARLEY! I COME UP WITH THE PLAN. NOT YOU." He yelled as he stood up. He whirled around to face her. His patience was running quite thin today. "SHUT UP AND GO SIT OVER THERE," he screamed and pointed to a spot across the room. He glared at her, his green hair sticking up wildly from where he had run his hands though it. He needed a GRAND finale not some stupid half imitation.
Harley looked up at him, trying to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. "Yes, sir," She answered in a high pitched voice. It only took her half a second to get to the spot he had indicated. He was right. Who was she to interfere with his comic genius? She should just watch, something very few people have ever gotten to do.
He sat back down once she had gotten to her place. NOW maybe he could have some peace and quiet. He tapped his finger against the paper and suddenly an idea struck him. A sign. He would stick a lovely portrait of himself on the ceiling and decorate the store. It needed a little sprucing up. Dear Batman would know he was back in business too. He could bring some confetti to top it off. He was a genius after all.
Harley wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. Thank goodness she always wore water proof mascara. It wouldn't be good to let him know she had cried a bit. He would probably think she was weak. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.
Joker glanced out the window. The sun was just starting to set. He ground his teeth. They had some time to kill. It would be better if there weren't any witnesses. A crowd was always nice though. He ran a hand through his green hair. No. It would be better if there wasn't any applause or people running to tell the police.
What am I doing? Harley asked herself, relaxing her position a bit. Her body language had been so childish. Any psychologist would have picked up on that in a heart beat. She followed the Joker's gaze to the grimy old window. An orange hazy color was drifting through the layers of dirt. God, she wanted to talk so bad. She hated silence. She knew she would be punished if she talked, so she kept her mouth shut.
He stood up and walked to the door. He then glanced back over his shoulder at her, "Come on, Harley. Let's go get the supplies together." He sat on the railing of the stairway and started to slide down. It was much faster and more dangerous, of course.
She followed him down the stairs, jumping the last three. Maybe next time she would jump four. A smile was plastered back onto her face. "What're we going to do, Mister J?"
"We are going to plaster a picture on top of the ceiling and have a Joker party. It will be quite festive," he grinned. He moved quickly toward the door under the stairs. This old room used to be the break room for the employees who worked on the factory floor, but Joker had converted it into his chemistry/supply room. Thousands of items were neatly placed on shelves that lined the walls. They were all alphabetized. Joker passed the rows slowly looking at each item speculatively. Could something be used and how would it be implemented? All of the Joker's crimes were carefully planned and executed flawlessly. It was what he did best.
As he looked around, Harley didn't say a word. She might get on his nerves again and there was a lot of glass in here. The Arkham rules still echoed in her mind. Don't let the inamates get near glass. Instead, she examined everything too. There was so much stuff down here!
He started picking things up a little after letter E. Where was his submachine gun pile? He had a lot of weapons, so sometimes it became a bit disorganized. You could never have too many. He would rather have a nice assault rifle than even food. Joker stopped and started rifling through the cache. He needed a good gun.
Harley wandered over to one of the pistols. It was labeled "Beretta Model 93R". Weren't those the ones that police used? Joker must have stolen one from a cop. How cool. She wanted to touch it, but crossed her arms over her chest so that she wouldn't. Her eyes were still glued to that beautiful, shiny gun though.
The Joker sighed. An assault rifle would be much better anyway. He doubted they even needed to take any weapon. It was, of course, always better to be prepared. He grinned as he picked up the M4. Such a wonderful rifle. So much power in one shot. He grabbed a few magazines and put them in the pile of stuff they were going to take. Some of the weapons were already loaded but most of the assault rifles weren't. It would be quite disastrous if one happened to go off. He happened to look up at Harley, "Grab whichever one you want, sweet. Ever held gun before?"
Harley picked up that nice little Beretta and grinned. "I've held one. They teach you how to use one once you get hired at Arkham." She had never shot a gun though.
He raised his eyebrows. "They teach even the psychiatrists to use guns at Arkham?", his said in disbelief. He then grinned mischievously, "I don't think it did much good."
"Not for me. I don't even remember where I put the gun they gave me." She let her slender fingers slip around the handle of the Beretta. Her hand fit there perfectly. The metal was so cold. "There was need to use a gun though."
He set the M4 down carefully and sauntered toward her. "Oh? When did you need one?" he asked, his head cocked to the side. His pale face lit up by a brilliant smile.
Harley rolled her eyes, "When you weren't my patient." Her answer was cryptic. She had only been tempted to use the gun once. That was when the Joker had been in solitary. The stupid idiots at Arkham had made her have a visit with the Riddler. God she hated him. They had made her visit the guy that Joker had almost killed in the cafeteria. She had almost used the gun then.
He stopped close to her, just a few inches away. He put both hands on her hips and pulled her against him. His lips brushed her ear. "You look good with a gun, kitten." His whisper was low and soft meant to make her shiver. She was so beautiful and smelled so good. That delicate floral smell again knocked him senseless. Luck had been kind to him to bless him with such a wonderful gift.
Harley did shiver. Mister J knew exactly what to do to get a reaction from her. That's one of the reasons she liked him so much. Some guys have no clue what to do to make a girl feel good, and it's a pain trying to teach them. Then, other guys just know what to do. Now what was she supposed to say to that? Every reply sounded stupid to her, so she settle with a pathetic, "Thank you."
Joker laughed. His whole body shook. "You are quite welcome," he grinned trying to hold it in. "You can just kiss me next time., " he said teasing her. He kissed her smoothly, effortlessly. His heart pounded in his chest reminding him that it was actually there. Harley made him laugh.
Her lips turned up in a grin as she kissed him. She made sure to slip the little pistol back into it's place. Her hands found their was to his chest. Too bad he was wearing a shirt. She moved her hips a little to tease him. Next time she would kiss him. She just hadn't been sure this time. After all, he had really yelled at her a few minutes ago.
He groaned as she rubbed against him. He was hard in two seconds. She always made the beast inside him come out. It was like he lost all control over himself. It was so much easier to give in to the cravings. He pulled her hips hard against the ache. They really didn't have time to do this. He had never really been one for folllowing rules though...even his own.
She let her body move of it's own accord. It always seemed that she was better at this sort of thing when she wasn't thinking. Her grin grew as she felt the evidence of his lust. She let a hand move up to his collar, loosening the buttons one by one.
He hands came up to her face and he pulled back. He rested his forehead against hers. Her eyes were blue and clever. She was still sane... maybe he shouldn't tempt her. Why couldn't he control himself? This was very abnormal and slightly disconcerting. Why did he feel so...easily overpowered? He brushed his thumbs across her skin and closed his eyes. He touched his lips to the skin right over her pulse. She seemed so calm and together. The opposite of himself. He was shaking with the effort of trying to resist.
Her hands froze on the button they had undone. Harley wasn't sure if he wanted her to stop or not. She felt the rise and fall of his chest and let her breathing match. Her body was on fire, but it was still under control.
He finally stepped backwards. He gently pulled her hands off of his shirt. He stepped back a few more inches so he couldn't easily reach her. He hoped that would calm down the throbbing libido. Control had so easily slipped away. He quickly buttoned back up his shirt. The clothing felt abrasive to his skin. He wanted to take it all off but they had work to do. Think cold thoughts. Cold. Arctic fucking cold. He didn't move, trying to calm down. He didn't want to have to walk like a penguin.
Harley let out a huff of breath, pulling her blond locks into a ponytail. She turned around and half-laughed, "Gosh, it got hot in here, didn't it?" Her cheeks were burning scarlet. She moved her hand rapidly in front of her face, trying to cool it down. Just think about snow. Ice cubes. Stuff like that. Do not think about amazing sex with the sexiest man alive that could make her feel wonderful with just a kiss. No! Don't think about that!
He grinned at that comment, "Do you think it's hot? It's a perfect temperature for me." Thankfully, he was able to move. He bent down and started stuffing all the needed supplies into bags. He was sure that this robbery would go without a hitch. It would be a perfect way to get started again. Maybe they could celebrate afterward.
Oh gosh. Why did he have to say stuff like that? It just made her blush get worse. Then a new thought pushed everything else from her mind. "Do I get to wear the costume?" When she turned back around, her eyes were wide like a little kid's.
"Yes, sweet. If you want to. I think you look good in anything," he said glancing up at her. They needed to get going. The store would be just getting ready to close by now. It was always good to get there earlier. He packed more stuff into bags expertly fitting as much as he could. Duffel bags always came in handy. "Kitten, could you grab some gloves. Don't want to leave any fingerprints."
"Yes, sir!" She chimed, getting a few pairs of gloves. You never know where you're going to need extras. Before leaving the room to get changed, she grabbed the little pistol she had picked up earlier. While the Joker was preoccupied getting all the supplies, Harley changed into her new costume. It was so awesome! She would have to get some grease paint and a mask though, just to conceal her face a bit more.
He zipped the last bag with a flourish. "Ready to go. Grab a pack, sweetheart. Let's move out," He laughed. Excitement poured through his body. This was going to be good. Even if it was such a small scale crime. After all, he had to get back in the rhythm of things. He had a long vacation. He grabbed four of the bags and started moving toward the door. They could take the black van that was in the old loading area. It should still have some gas in it, if he remembered correctly.
Harley grabbed the last of the bags, practically dancing out of the door. This was so much fun! What made it even better was that she sharing this experience with her Puddin'! He was an expert at this and she got to watch him in action! Many psychologists would kill for this chance.
The Joker opened the back door and chucked the bags in. He started the van and revved the engine. It was already pitch black outside. Perfect for a burglary. Harley finally got in and he hit the gas pedal. Why go slow? He was in a rush all the time. He started slowing down as they approached the jewelry store. He boldly parked the van right in front. They weren't going to be long anyway. He slung a bag over his shoulder while getting out. Hm...this lock could be a bit tricky. He carefully judged the time it would take for the alarm to go off. Five seconds sounded about right.
Harley walked behind him, holding a bag also. She felt somehwat awkward now. He was so sure of what he was doing and she had no idea what the hell she was doing. They were on totally different playing fields. If she just did what he said, she should be fine. In her nervousness, she glanced up and down the street, half expecting a police car to come whizzing around the bend.