Crane slid out of the van, miffed by the cramped car ride to the Joker's hide out. He straighted out his orange Arkham uniform. He hated being in such close proximity with the other inmates in the car. They had managed to cram ten in, including himself. One patient had began to act up and didn't survive the ride home. Jonathan's ears were still ringing from the sound of the gunshot. Though he was fortunate he had not been sitting by the now dead man. The man's seat mates' colorful jumpsuits were now splattered with blood and gelatinous chunks of brains.
He looked to the apartment complex before him, "Why did I agree to this," Jonathan said to himself.
Because genius, there was a man about to kill you if you said no. Great, the Scarecrow was speaking loud and clear tonight. He often grew tired of the Scarecrow, he was very bossy. If there was one thing Jonathan Crane hated was being ordered around. However the other half of his personality did have it's advantages. When he allowed the Scarecrow to dominate he hungered for power, he could not get enough. His other half fed off of people's terror as opposed to using it for research. He was fearless and feared. Things that came in handy when taking over Gotham. Scarecrow committed acts which Jonathan couldn't bring himself to do with out a long explanation of why. He was a proud man, Scarecrow wasn't. Scarecrow didn't give a damn and sometimes Jonathan liked that feeling.
"Whatcha waitin' for pretty boy? Get inside," Chuckles shoved past him.
The man is right Jonathan, get moving. Stop draggin' your feet, this is good for you. Trust me, you needed out of Arkham. He begrudgingly made his way inside.
Spades led the group of new henchmen to Joker's office. The door was wide open, inside the clown sat at his desk making out with a scantily clad girl. Spades knocked on the door frame.
"Um boss," he spoke up, "I hate to interrupt but we got the new henchmen,"
"Mmhmm," he said still playing tonsil hockey with the women in his lap, "Good job," he stopped for a moment to say in an uninterested tone.
Jonathan watched the Joker with disgust as he ran his hands up the women's thighs and into her short skirt. He had absolutely no shame.
"The Scarecrow's one of em'," the man added, "Thought that might help with your laughing gas idea,"
"What," Joker pulled the girl off him by one of her pig tails, she seemed to struggle against him wanting more.
"Get over here," Spades pulled Jonathan by the arm before he pushed into the doorway.
"Hey it's Jonny! C' mere, sit down," the clown looked around the room, "Doesn't look like I have another chair, don't sit," he shrugged.
Reluctantly he made his way into the room.
"Uh Spades, show the new guys around," the henchmen walked off leaving Jonathan alone with the Joker.
He didn't like being around the clown in Arkham's rec room. At least there he was surrounded by security cameras and orderlies. Here they were all alone. With the exception of the girl on leeched to him. By now she had calmed down and wrapped her arms around Joker's neck cuddling tightly against him. Though Jonathan was sure she wouldn't do much good if for some reason Joker went off and decided to kill him.
"So uh, I guess you know Har-ley,"
Jonathan drew a blank and silently shook his head no.
"Don't be silly Jonathan," Harley turned to face him, "Ya know me,"
He looked at her black and red attire with matching hair. He assumed she was a prostitute judging by she and the Joker's actions. Not to mention her outfit. Everything she was wearing was tight and somewhat gaudy. As for the clown makeup decorating her face, he thought was just the Joker's bizarre clown theme.
"Lemme refresh your memory," she sat forward on Joker's knee, she put her fingers around her eyes making "glasses", "How does that make you feel," she rattled off a typical psychiatrist line.
"Dr. Quinzel?" he recognized her blue eyes.
He knew of she and Joker's relationship after he had been so willing to share their erotic escapades in the rec room. And he assumed she was the "unknown clown girl" that broke him out, but nothing could have prepared him to see this. He assumed after releasing the clown from Arkham he'd had no use for her. He assumed that when Dr. Quinzel did not return to work the Joker had simply gotten rid of her. She would probably be better off dead.
"Dr. Who?" asked Joker with fake confusion.
She giggled, "Uh oh, looks like MistahJ needs a memory jogger to," her hand slid to his inner thigh and crotch, she still looked at Jonathan, "It's Harley Quinn now,"
Jonathan grew increasingly uncomfortable. Unable to believe what he was seeing. Dr. Quinzel had respect at Arkham, even he had to admit she was a brilliant psychiatrist. How could she possibly have sank so low? He thought of his similar situation, going from a successful doctor to a criminal. No, he was different. He was still better than this, after all he wasn't the one giving Joker a hand job now.
"Mmmm, not now Harley-girl, Daddy's busy,"
"Aww," Harley pouted, "Maybe later?"
"De-pends on if you're a good girl while I talk to Jonny here," he placed her hand on her own lap.
"I'll be good," she replied with an expression that could only be described as that of an overly excited terrier, begging for a treat.
"So Jonny, I got a brilliant idea the other day," he talked with his hands, "Foor a deeadly laughing gas. See I was thinking it could work kinda like your fear gas. Ya know you spray them in the face only in-stead of gettin' scared they just laugh. Theeen eventually the gas will oh, I don't know dooo something to there insides, so that they'll literally die laughing,"
Harley clapped her hands, "Yaaaay, ya so clever Mistah J," she kissed his scarred cheek.
"I know," he responded, "Aaanywaaay the problem I'm having is hoow does the victim die,"
Jonathan thought for a moment, "Well I suppose the laughter could make it difficult to breathe, but that most likely won't be enough to cause death. Unless the chemicals could hyper stimulate the laughter functions within the victim's brain. That may cause inability to breathe,"
"How soon could ya make that hap-pen?" Joker stroked Harley's head like a dog.
"It's hard to say, I'll need supplies and test subjects," he responded timidly, careful not to invoke anger in his new boss.
Joker nodded, "Talk ta Spades, he'll get whatever you need," he slid a finger into the waistband of Harley's skirt, "Dr. Quinn, I have something you should take a look at,"
Harley giggled, "Do you have an appointment sir?"
"No, but it's an e-mer-gan-cy," he responded with exaggerated concern.
"Oh my," she hopped off his lap and took his hand, "Come with me, my office is this way,"
The couple hurried out of the room.
Jonathan remained sickened and confused as he watched them leave, "Great," he thought, "Not only is he a crazy person but he has an attention span of five minutes,"
He stood for a moment looking around Joker's office, unsure of what to do. Despite what Scarecrow said he had a negative attitude towards the whole situation. He wondered how long he would last here.
Cautiously Jonathan left the room to try and find the others. Though he had absolutely no idea where to look. He walked down the hallway unsure of which room he was supposed to be in. He heard Harley's high pitched giggles on the other side of the door nearest to him. He hurried down the hall.
Joker slid out of Harley's grasp after rewarding her patience like he said he would. He had never meant such an insatiable girl, though he wasn't about to complain.
He watched her sleep as he got dressed, she softly moaned in her sleep. He guessed he would keep her, she had her perks. For one thing she was hot and always seemed eager to fool around. She was a good ego booster, always so clingy and full of compliments. Besides that she was like a little marionette, she would do what ever he said. She would soon make a good henchgirl. In fact he already had a job for her.
Joker searched through the bags she had brought along with her until found the suitcase containing her clothing. He began pulling garments out of the luggage in search of something a little naughty for their first outing together. She was going to need it where they were going.
While asking around about the where abouts of Joe DiMarco he found out that the man frequented a strip club. The Grin and Bare It. He thought it was kind of a cheesy name but it was the perfect place to make his point to the scum of the Narrows. The club would be packed with mobsters, gang bangers and the general sleazy bottom feeders that lived in the area. All of them crowded around a stage eager to see some naked girls sliding down a pole. Well they'd get to view a bit more of ole' Joey than they would care to see.
Joker rubbed his eyes attempting to wipe away fatigue, though it just smeared black make up off his eyes and onto his fingers. He was beginning to feel exhaustion setting in, he had not slept in a few days. It was so hard to. He was so excited to get a hold of that jackass DiMarco and make an example of him. The Joker was not a force to be reckoned with. You would think the mob boss would have shown a bit more respect. Especially knowing what the clown had done to the last two men in DiMarco's "line of work" that crossed him. Not to mention the havoc he had let loose on Gotham only a short time ago. But people seem to forget things so easily. The memories of such tragedies will always be there, they just begin to fade over time. The magnitude and horror of it disappears and leaves you thinking "that wasn't so bad". Joe needed a fresh reminder is all.
He removed a few things from the bag, included Harley Quinn's jester hat. She'd definentally need that.
"Mistah J," he heard Harley's sleepy voice, "What are ya doin?"
"Oh I was just picking out some clothes for you," he explained, "Ya know why? Because you are gonna go to work with me tomorrow,"
"Really Mistah J! What are we gonna do?"
"Weelll," Joker began as he walked towards Harley, "There's this guy and he doesn't understand my uh, love of chaos. See he wants in control of Gotham for the money and the power that would come with it. He just can't see the beauty in watching it simply burn to the ground, he thinks I'm crazy," he explained as if taking to a child, "Sooo we are gonna show him just how wrong he is,"
"What are we gonna do?" she asked eagerly.
He sat in bed beside Harley and shrugged, "Not sure yet, ya know I'm noot big on plans. And besides it soo much more fun to get your prey at knife point and then surprise yourself and everyone around you with your next move,"
He reached for a knife laying on the night stand. He retracted the small blade and lovingly ran a finger down it's blunt edge.
"Knives are so much better than guns. With a guun it's POW!," he mimicked shooting Harley, "Aaand you're dead. But with a knife, no. No none of that. Ya see a knife is much slower. Deeepending on how you use it very, ver-y slow. And in that slow painful process, people show there uh, true col-ors. They finally open up and become who they real-ly are, by then it's usually to late. Usually. But there's lucky ones," he licked his scars, "Like me, the ones who live to tell. And someday the wound will uh, heal shut. Buut it's never completely gone," he gently ran the tip of the knife over Harley's bare flesh, "It always leaves a scar,"
It wasn't nearly enough pressure to break the skin, but it sent shiver's down her spine still. The thought of the cool, steel blade piercing her flesh made her tremble. She was relived when Joker lifted it off her and placed it back on the nightstand.
"So," he smacked his lips, "We should probably go over your rou-tine,"
I had to add Jonny to this, at least for a little while. I love his Jonathan Crane/Scarecroe identity issue, its interesting to write. Besides I loved Cillian Murphy in Batman Begins. He really needed more screen time.
I see Joker and Harley getting into really kinky roleplay (that is if he's in a good mood) so I had to slip that scene in there. Though I hope it didn't make the relationship seem at all normal. Don't worry Joker fans, he will get more violent.
And yes I stole the name Grin and Bare It from Joe Bermejo's graphic novel Joker. At least I think that's where I got it from. Auugh I'm to tired to remember. I couldn't think of a strip club name so I stole his, I think.