Chapter 2-

Aw! You guys are so sweet. :)

OKAY! ANNOUNCEMENT! IMPORTANT!

SO, because all of you liked the swap so much, I've decided that I'm just gonna rewrite ANY scene in the movie with Joker OR Harley, except swapped. :) For those of you who requesting things NOT in the movie, those will work as fillers in the story and help give it more of a plot. :) Make sense? I hope so. PM me if it doesn't.

Also, small mistake in the last chapter, they were at Arkham Asylum, not Belle Reve. :)

To c0c0cat: How does the above sound? You helped inspire it! X)

Maruharukaru was curious on who would get hurt in this relationship. Shall we find out?

As many of you requested, mainly OnTheRun246, here is a new take on the "Really Really Bad", and vat scenes. :)

The Joker.

He liked the ring of it. It only made it better that Harley had given it to him.

Mr. J ducked behind the desk, hands clasping his ears tightly as gunfire rang out in the asylum. Dozens of men and a few women had stormed the building in ridiculous outfits. One wore a batman mask, another was dressed in a panda suit, and a few more wore animal masks. The Joker had locked himself in his office, occasionally risking a glance over the desktop.

This wasn't what he wanted to happen. It wasn't. He didn't think Harleen would do this. It had to be Harleen, right? He knew it was. It was Harleen. That didn't make it right. No, this was completely and utterly wrong.

Another burst of gunfire accompanied the sound of bullets rattling off metal. Sweeping his hand through his hair, Mr.J's eyebrows shot up in alarm and bullets erupted into a series of holes in the wood door. A kick sent the door flying open, revealing two men in matching black and white smile masks with sharpened teeth. Both clutched recently reloaded machine guns.

With widening eyes, the Joker scrambled at one of the drawers, digging furiously through drawer, his fingers met the grip of a revolver. That was when two pairs of hands snatched his shoulders and under his arms, dragging him backwards across the floor.

"Let go!" Mr. J shouted wildly. "I know Harleen! You can't kill me!" He screamed, the men picking up the pace and yanking him through the hallway.

He was momentarily silenced when he gagged at the strong smell of iron in the air. The Joker shouted in a strange incomprehensible language, a combination of begging and explaining, as his feet kicked out, hitting the bodies that littered the floor. He knew some of these people. Most of them never laughed at his jokes. Harley did. She always laughed.

"I know Harleen! You can't do this!" his throat was burning, and tears were prickling behind his eyes, but he wasn't stopping anytime soon. These men needed to bring him to Harleen. His harlequin. She would stop them. She would laugh. She would help him. She would laugh. She would laugh. She would laugh. Laugh.

A laugh split from his lungs, forcing its way through his lips. He was going to die. He was going to die and all he could do was laugh. "You—You don't understand!" he laughed quietly, a couple tears slipping out.

The men lifted him as his struggles weakened. They were gonna kill him. Straps were tightened over his chest, around his wrists and over his ankles. He pulled a couple times, closing his eyes tightly and slamming his head back on the cushioned long medical chair. "You have to take me to—"

"Hiya Puddin'."

His eyes opened immediately and he tilted his head to look at the door, seeing the room upside down. "Harleen." He whispered.

She looked different, but not quite right, like she had gotten dressed in a hurry.

She wore only a red bra and standard issue blue Arkham Asylum sweatpants. The sweatpants had been torn to shreds, leaving what could be considered booty shorts. Her feet were bare and her pasty skin had been smeared with blue and red eye makeup and bright red lipstick.

Mr. J pulled at his restraints, asking with more curiosity than fear, "What're you gonna do? You gonna kill me, Harley?"

"Harley…" she smiled, pulling two pieces of equipment from a nearby table. "I like that…" She walked over, two devices in her hands. The equipment was used for electro-therapy. He'd seen the process in use before. It wasn't pretty, but it was almost beautiful what response it gained.

"No," She said quietly, a small giggle escaping. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, Puddin'." Her grin widened, and she circled the devices around the sides of his head. He could feel the electricity in the air, making his hair stand on end. "I'm just gonna hurt ya…" she brought her face close, so their noses almost touched. She smelled of iron and bleach, with a touch of perfume. "Really…Really…bad…"

Pain exploded in his temples, traveling through every strand of hair and making his back arch as he gasped in pain, unable to make a sound.

The last thing he saw was Harleen's wide smile before he succumbed to darkness.

~A JOKER'S MINDSET~

His brown hair was disheveled. His skin looked paler in the dim lighting. He still had healing scars on the sides of his head, hidden under newly grown brown hair. It was silent except for the sound of sizzling coming from ahead. The strange scent filling the corridor smelled vaguely like bleach and gasoline. It couldn't be safe to breathe. And yet, he'd spent the past hour here. Pipes hissed and released foul smokes in the air. A dead scientist, killed by Harleen, had been kicked to the side of the hallway.

Harleen looked beautiful. Her hair was down. She'd dyed it as soon as they'd left the asylum. Red and blue on the tips, splitting her hair perfectly in half. She'd changed too. She wore a more elegant outfit. A wine red tube top and slim black pants with crisp black heels. She almost seemed giddy as she led him down the hall.

Fumes erupted into his face and the doctor coughed, recoiling as he walked.

"Harleen, I don't think it's safe to be breathing in these fumes," he announced.

"It's fine, Puddin'. They're fine. Like oxygen…but better." She remarked , her accent accompanying every line and a growing smile.

"I really don't—"

In a split second she'd spun on her heel and whipped her hand across his face. His head snapped to the side and he gaped, stunned, slowly bringing a hand up to his stinging face, where his cheek was burning red.

"It's fine," she argued almost calmly, shoving a finger in his face. A smile appeared directly after and she cupped his cheek in her hand, turning his head so they were eye to eye once more. "I'm sorry, Mr. J, did that hurt? Did it? I didn't mean it. Well, I did, but that's okay, isn't it?"

Unsure, he nodded once, her hand still pressed against his cheek, his hand hovering.

"Yea. It's okay, we're fine, this is fine, everything's fine," she drawled a laugh then. Her eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched, like he was the cutest puppy in the world. "My Puddin'." She patted his cheek and continued down the hallway.

He followed after her, running a hand quickly through his hair.

They reached the metal railing. The end of the path. The railing was bent horrendously on both ends, disfigured and mangled. Someone had broken it, putting nothing between him and the vats of acid waiting below.

"What're we…?" he trailed off, captivated by the bubbling liquid below.

She hummed in admiration, and he turned to find her looking down at the vats with a smile. She turned to him. They were close, less than an arm's length away.

"Question," she said. Her eyes looked at him under longer lashes. "Would you die for me?"

Without hesitation, he said firmly: "Yes." He glanced at the gun at her waist, a moment of doubt, and then back at Harleen, the doubt faded.

"No," she laughed, like someone had said something nice. For a second he was concerned. "That's too easy, Puddin', just too easy…" He voice faded to a hum as she thought. "Hm. Would ya…would ya live for me, Mr.J?" She asked, taking a step closer. She glanced down at the vats, just for a second. "Hmm? Would ya?"

"Yes." He looked at her, lost in her gorgeous blue eyes and snow white skin.

"Careful, Puddin'. This is important to me." She warned, biting her lip with a sly grin. "Don't promise me that easy, baby. Don't make thoughtless promises." She sung. "See, desire becomes surrender. And surrender?" she let out one laugh. "Surrender becomes power. Ya want this, Puddin'? Ya really want this? Want me?"

He nodded, eyebrows raised in full attention, "I want you. I—I want this. I do."

"Say it…" she whispered. "Say it!" his patient snapped playfully, another endless laugh thrumming from her throat. It rang off the metal. "Say it!" Her voice quieted again. "Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty…"

Swallowing hard, the taller man (who still had her by an inch, even with her heels), let out a whispered word, voice cracking. "Please."

A Cheshire cat smile split her cheeks. "Ah, Mr.J, you're so good. So, so good. "

The slightest amount of pressure applied to his chest by her hand. Not enough to force him, but enough to tell him what she wanted. He wanted this. He wanted her. Innocent eyes locked on fair blonde locks and a lip-biting smile. She knew she was going to get what she wanted. And he wanted to give it to her.

His feet shuffled back, almost of their own accord, and then the floor was gone beneath him.

The next moment, his skin was on fire. His shirt, a wine red button up, was sizzling off of his back. His hair was singed all at once, and his mouth was filled with burning liquid that had the texture of an ice-cream shake.

The air left his lungs and for a second, he felt nothing.

Abruptly his blue eyes snapped open and he shoved his arms downwards, feet finding the base of the vat. He continued swimming through the thick acid around him. His skin was on fire, but it all blurred into one numbing pain. He spotted two legs dipped in the acid and swam towards them.

Breaking the surface, he took in the feeling of oxygen, skin and hair coated thickly in chemicals. He coughed a couple times, looking up at Harley like a puppy to its master.

Harleen peered at him with a smile, perched on the rim of the vat with her legs crossed. Her hair was slicked back with chemicals, and the Joker quickly realized she had dived in after him. He smiled, and reached up, to which she dropped into his arms. He held her bridal style.

And together they laughed, color swirling around them.

How was it? Did it do okay? :) I'm pretty happy with it.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It means the world to me! I'll try to get through every request, either making them work with this Swap Story or changing up the storyline, we'll see. The next scene will be a combo of the club scene and the car scene, similar to how this one was the vat scene and the Hurt You scene. :)

Feel free to drop a review or PM me if you enjoyed!

I'll try to get an update every day or every other day, but school is coming up, so it's gonna be tricky and I might miss a couple.

See you all soon!

-AG