Jonathan looked at the clock, it read a quarter till two in the morning. He rubbed his temples, he wasn't tired but he was hitting a dead end with the laughing gas. He refused to accept that it was a lack of intelligence on his part. He knew he was struggling with the chemical because it was a stupid idea, he did not want to make it. So quit, Scarecrow spoke up. Jonathan rolled his eyes, as if that was a possibility. Quit. Give that damn clown a nice, lethal dose of fear gas and walk out. I sounded like a good idea, but he unlike the Scarecrow had thought it through. He had absolutely no idea what Joker's reaction to the toxin would be before he died. With his luck it would be a violent one. The fear gas had a different effect on everyone he had tested, there's no way of knowing what the clown would do. You'll never know unless you try, his alter ego added. What he said was true, but Jonathan couldn't take that risk. Beside the police had confiscated all of his precious toxin. It angered him to think about all his hard work going to waste in the hands of the Gotham PD.
He pushed the ingredients aside deciding Spades had gotten him the wrong chemicals and called it a night.
He decided to attempt sleeping. This was difficult for him ever since the Batman gave him a shot of his own toxin. The ignorance of the doctors in the emergency room still pissed him off. They hadn't done anything for him after he was poisoned. All they could do was stand around and discuss the fact they didn't know what to do for him. So thanks to those wonderful doctors and of course Batman, he suffered from horrible night terrors every night. But Jonathan supposed he should be thankful. At least it hadn't killed him or caused permanent hallucinations making his waking hours just as bad as his nightmares.
He lay on the couch since he could not bring himself to rest in the apartment's bed. Though the couch wasn't any more pleasant, it reeked of what smelled like cat urine and was horribly stained. Jonathan hated The Narrows. It was so disgusting, he stared at the ceiling. A large reddish-brown splotch stained the gray paint. He wondered if it was blood, though he had no idea how such a large blood stain could have reached the ceiling. Suddenly a clown girl sprung into his view of the possible blood stain.
"Hiya Jonny," she yelled while standing over him.
"H-Harley I didn't hear you come in," he said shocked by her sudden appearance.
"What are ya doin'?" she asked, "Oh my god, ya were asleep weren't chya and I woke ya up. I'm sorry,"
"No I wasn't. I was just laying here," he sat up.
"Really? Is the ceiling that interestin'?" she looked up a the stain, "Hey it'sa bunny," she giggled.
"What are you talking about," Jonathan responded a little annoyed.
"Up there, that stain is shaped like a bunny," she pointed to another spot in the carpet, "And that one is a flower,"
Jonathan stared at her, baffled by the former doctors lack of intellect, "Oh yes I see it to," he said flatly, "Now is there something you wanted?"
"I'm bored," she whined, "I wanted someone ta talk to," she sat on the couch next to him.
"Where's Joker?"
Harley looked down, "I dunno," she said sadly, "I think he's mad at me... I don't know why though,"
Exactly why a homicidal maniac is not good boyfriend material, Jonathan thought. Though he didn't tell Harley that. He didn't want to risk her taking another hissy-fit, no matter how badly he wanted to say I told you so. He decided it would be childish of him and was satisfied with knowing he was right.
The clown girl still stared down at the floor, looking sad. He wondered if he should try to comfort her, he really didn't want to. Jonathan just wanted her to leave him alone.
"Why don't you wait for him in your apartment," he suggested.
Harley ignored him, "What if he finds someone else Jonny? Someone who doesn't make him mad... I always make him mad. What if he wants ta break up?"
Jonathan sighed, "I don't know much about relationships. Try getting advice from someone else," he made one last attempt to make her leave.
"I don't need any advice Jonny, I just need to talk to somebody," she explained, "C'mon we always used ta talk. Remember?"
"Yes but that was when you were sane and I was your patient. It was your job to talk to me and I had to cooperate," he said coldly.
With that Harley burst into tears. She rubbed her eyes covering her fingers in wet black make up.
Scarecrow was enjoying her little break down somewhat. He was content to watch before kicking her out, but Jonathan was confused. He didn't know how to react to the girl crying beside him. Usually when he witnessed a woman crying hysterically it was because he just shot fear gas in her face. This was different.
He groaned, "Don't cry," he reluctantly patted her back, "If you want to talk... I guess can listen,"
"Really," she sniffed.
"Sure," he sighed.
He really didn't want to. Her preferred to be left alone to think about how much he hated his new job. He decided it would at least be interesting from a psychological point of view to listen to the ramblings of Harley Quinn.
"Thanks Jonny," she hugged him tightly around his neck, "I've nevah had a best friend before,"
Great, Jonathan thought, I'm her best friend now. Scarecrow laughed at him.
Joker returned about two hours later with Spades and a henchmen he had named Bozo. They had been breaking into costume shops across Gotham in search of some party disguises. Their search was successful and Mr. J was eager to show Harley their costumes. Humming he entered their apartment and kicked open the bedroom door.
"Harley," he called into the dark room.
He tossed the costumed aside and turned on the lights expecting Harley to be in bed. But she wasn't, the bed was empty.
"Harley," he yelled and began looking through the rest of the apartment.
He wondered why she wasn't in bed, what else could she possibly have to do besides wait for him.
She was supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in their apartment, in bed, waiting for him to get home. Right that moment she should have been in his arms. She should have been overwhelmed with excitement that he was home and giggling in that annoying way she did everytime she was happy. But she was no where to be found.
"You'd better not be hi-ding," he gritted his teeth, "I won't be happy if I hafta find yooou," he said becoming increasingly frustrated.
She wasn't in the apartment. It occurred to him that she had ran off, she seemed upset when he left. The thought of Harley leaving him made him angrier. He clenched his fists and stormed out to look in his office.
"Ya think I won't find you," he mumbled, "Ya think you can just leave. No,"
If she was had tried to run off she'd regret it. After not finding her in his office he recalled where she had been before he left, Chuckles apartment. Storming across the hall, he flung opened the door. Chuckles was still awake watching television on the couch. Joker looked around the room as he drew a pistol out of his purple trench coat.
"Quick, tell me where Harley is," he said as he cocked the gun and aimed it at Chuckles's head.
The henchmen froze, he had no idea where Joker's clown girl was. Sure she had been in the apartment, but by the time Chuckles returned she was gone. He racked his brain for ideas knowing his boss would soon run out of patience.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, "Um she ain't here," he began.
"I didn't ask where she wa-sn't," the clown pressed the gun into the other man's temple.
"That new guy, uhhh Scarecrow. She's hangin' wit him," Chuckles nervously made up an answer.
His boss bought it and removed the weapon before heading to the door.
"Damn I hope I'm right," he cringed and said to himself once the Joker had gone.
Jonathan's apartment was not far from Chuckles's. They were both in the same hallway, about two doors down. Approaching the door the clown retracted a knife before swiftly opening it.
Jonathan and Harley sat on the couch, still talking.
"Harley Harley Harley Quinn," Joker came from behind her and jerked back her hair, forcing her to look upwards at him, "What the hellll are ya doin' sweetie," he place the knife in her throat, "I just came home from work and ya know what?" he emphasized the "t".
"What?" she replied timidly.
"No one was there to greet me, no," he shook his head, "And I don't like that, not one bit,"
"I'm sorry Mistah J, I'm so sorry. I'll make it up ta ya I promise," Harley said quickly, "Da ya forgive me?"
Joker made an exaggerated "thinking" face, "Weeellll, I am in a good mood, sooo sure," he returned the weapon to his pocket.
"Aaaw Mistah J you're the best," she sprung to her feet and hugged him tightly.
She began kissing his mouth and up his scars, standing on her tip toes to reach the top of the longest one.
"Okay Harl, that's enough. Save somethin' for the bedroom," he pryed her off, "Cause ya know, I'm gonna hold ya to what you said about uh, mak-ing it up to meee,"
Harley giggled, "Of course puddin',"
Jonathan rolled his eyes. He wondered if the Joker always said such inappropriate things in front of people or if he just saved that for "Jonny". What he found even more disgusting was the fact that her "puddin'", as she called him, had just threatened her with a knife. Yet in a matter of two minutes she was bouncing around kissing him. It was insanity, but Jonathan supposed he could not expect anything else from those two. Especially with his new found insight on Harley's psyche.
Yes, those (very long) couple of hours with Harley had been quite informative, but no less disturbing. She laughed, she cried, she told Jonathan how good Joker was in bed. And of course she described everything in great detail.
"So I uh guess I'll be goin' Jonny," Harley interrupted his thoughts, "This was fun though, we outa do it again sometime. Only next time I'll bring cookies. I was sucha bad guest just droppin' by empty handed like that,"
"No not at all," he replied thinking of how she just appeared in the room, without warning.
"Ya so sweet," the clown girl giggled, Jonathan's sarcasm obviously going over her head, "I'll see ya then," she called as she existed.
TDK Joker was described as having zero empathy (I think Heath said that. GAH I miss him) I think that when he was getting aggressive with Harley in Chuckles's apartment he wouldn't understand why he upset her. It's complicated though, I think he knows he's inflicted pain he just doesn't fully grasp how it made her feel. Kinda like a little kid. When my lil brother was like two he would bite alot and he knew it was to hurt people, but he couldn't understand why it would make the bit person upset, so he had no remorse. Yeah I just compared my brother to the Joker. If he knew that he'd yell "I'm Spiderman, idiot" and punch me in the face. (But now he's old enough to apologize :D)
I love writing things for Joker and Harley that sound like normal domestic life like "I just came home from work" when really he was out breaking into stores and stealing stuff. It's almost like they are under the impression they have a normal relationship, Harley more so than Joker.