Shotgun Serenade
Harleen yawned, smashing her hand onto her alarm clock to stop it from blaring out the infernal racket that had startled her in the first place.
She prised herself up, and then collapsed onto her bed again.
"I can't do work this early... Why the hell did I even take this job?" she cursed herself, growling as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. "Oh yea... I remember now... More money..."
Harleen lazily, clumsily got herself together for work, travelling around her penthouse apartment in a zombie-like manner. Sometimes she even let out a half dead groan...
As she waited for her toast to pop up and her coffee machine to start doing its thing, she decided to turn on the plasma TV since the kitchen and living room were actually one big room.
She sauntered over to the mirror, giving herself one last look over.
Blood red lips. Black eye makeup. A touch of vanilla scent...
Long blonde locks were tied up in a high pony tail but a windswept fringe still framed her face.
She wore a black v-neck t-shirt with skinny red skirt ... well, red skirts were the only thing she could do to make herself a little more different from the other interns at Arkham Asylum... Well, she was a little different anyway, being clever, blonde and beautiful.
Well she wasn't a natural blonde.
Soon her toast and coffee had been made and she sat on her couch, casually watching TV but not actually taking any of it in.
"And to recap on today's news: Wayne Industries are holding a charity ball in two weeks time to collect money for the Gotham Restoration project, which will involve rebuilding and renovating key aspects of Gotham City such as: Amusement Mile, The Regal Hotel and the East End Cinema..."
Harleen sipped her coffee, wrapping her black nailed fingers around her favourite mug... which happened to have a Halloween theme. It was the only thing that reminded her of how much she loved to dress up... the only time she could be someone else for a while...
"In other news, the GCPD have noticed a rise in suspicious activity around the site on which Arkham Asylum lies..."
Harley choked on her drink, slamming it onto the table in front of her and taking note on what she was hearing.
"Witnesses have stated that they have seen 'unreal' and 'impossible' things, without elaborating further on these descriptions. All of these witnesses have now mysteriously disappeared from their homes in the past week. If you have seen anything related to suspicious, irrational activity in or around Arkham, the number to call will be transmitted shortly after these messages..."
Suspicious activity?!
Well this was the first Harley had heard of it! And how long had this been going on for? She'd already been working there for a week now and she'd noticed nothing.
Her blue eyes caught the time and she gasped, taking the last bite out of her slice of toast.
"Shit shit shit! My second session with Joker and already I'm ten minutes late!"
She slung on some black heeled boots, grabbing her files, bag and keys, rushing out of the sky scraper to her black Eldorado Cadillac that had been parked precariously in her parking space outside.
"With a little speed I could actually make it on time..."
The dark haired Dr Leland frowned at the rushing Dr Quinzel, who was clumsily sorting herself out for the next session with her patient.
"You're forty minutes late," the "bitch" doctor stated lifelessly, crossing her arms over her chest as she walked further into Harleen's office. Oh how Harley wished she could tell someone about her clever new nickname she had for Leland!
It was a shame she had no family or friends from work or home to talk to...
There was just money, music, TV and work. Oh - and smoking and food.
That pretty much summed up her life.
"I know how late I am..." she muttered, gritting her teeth as she fixed her I.D badge onto her lab coat, ignoring her superior doctor.
"You do realise this is your second session with the nut job today right?!"
Harley set her jaw and narrowed her eyes.
"He's not 'The Nut Job'. As we are in a professional environment we call our patients by their name, or if they don't have one; one that they desire. So it's the Joker or Joker. Not the Nut Job. Sheesh. No wonder no one gets any better in this place!"
Dr Leland shook her head in disgust, eyes wide in surprise.
"Just because you're treating one of the most insane criminals in Goth- No, America, doesn't mean that you're above all of us."
Harleen shrugged, flapping her hands at her. "Feel free to leave anytime, I'm sure Nut Job will be along any minute." Dr Quinzel spat venomously, pulling her desk chair closer to the leather lounger like she had done for the last session.
Dr Leland huffed and stalked out of Harley's office like she was something way better than Harley... She clearly wasn't, because she wasn't the one who had the Joker job, right?!
Shaking her head, Harley let out a sigh and glanced over Joker's files one last time. She suddenly noticed there was nothing on the details section in the boring paperwork bit she had clearly missed out on reading... no name, no age, no nationality...
Now she thought about it, it was kinda hard to pin point where the Joker would actually be from... his accent was a little muddled, it was American with a touch of English...
Yes it was muddled... But when he spoke, it was impossible to ignore - Harley just had to listen.
Her eyes landed on his mug shot, which she had always neglected because... she never could actually bring herself to look at him... To look into the green, fluorescent eyes of the freak, the robber, the killer...
Yet at this moment, she couldn't take her eyes away from it.
Her blue eyes widened at the photo.
Joker was smiling - as usual. He was still dressed in his presumably 'usual' purple suit jacket, with a light neon green shirt beneath. He wore a violet waistcoat and tie over the top; all of his attire matched his looks, and, she knew she would kick herself for thinking it but...
He looked damn hot.
His thick, messy green locks were sticking up at various different, crazy angles, a single strand falling in front of his eye line - in front of those piercing, secret bearing eyes.
"God... if I'm beginning to find him hot in a picture... What will I think when he comes... in here?"
Harley gasped and slammed the file shut, rushing over to the lounger to make sure the cushions were plumped enough so Joker would be comfortable.
She was feeling anxious all of a sudden, like the feeling someone gets when they're going on their first date. She tried to blink and shiver the emotion away, but it made no difference.
It wouldn't be long until he was here...
Maybe... another coffee would help?
Joker mumbled as he stood outside his doctor's office, annoyed by the guard who was bent down and tying his shoe lace, whistling a tune.
The only thing Joker had wanted to do all week was to see his doctor... He'd actually asked countless times for an urgent session with her, but each time he asked, he had been declined (apparently) by the woman herself.
But he knew that she wouldn't have denied him.
So instead, they'd given him an extra long session today - whether Dr Quinzel was aware of that, he didn't know. But the thing he did know, was that he was staying for the whole time... not leaving a second earlier unless he had to.
The guard opened her door, letting Joker walk inside himself.
'Oh goody! This guard remembers what she'd told him from last time! He's not as potato-like as he looks...' he thought, mouth spreading into a stretched grin.
The door closed behind him, and he silently sat himself down on the lounger.
He wasn't certain that she'd noticed him, so he lifted his legs up, laying himself over the leather couch, intense stare glued onto her figure. She was sat on her desk with her back to him holding a mug of coffee in her hands, clearly staring down at some file with... admiration in her eyes.
Wait.
Was that his file?!
"Morning Doc!" he piped up, sniggering when she immediately jumped from the desk, covering the file up with another. "Been busy?"
She seemed to flinch as he spoke, but not because of fear...
"G-Good morning Joker."
He made a face and struggled with his arms and shoulders.
"Don't think... ya could help me outta this again could ya?" he asked, fighting to find a way out.
"Oh." Dr Quinzel said, blushing a deep magenta as she wandered over to him, tugging at the buckles on the jacket. "Sorry, I'm a ditz today..."
Joker raised an eyebrow and grinned, enjoying how close to her face he was, as well as the feel of her firm yet sweet hands through the material of the strait jacket.
Soon, he shrugged it off, letting the heap of material hit the ground heavily. He held out both hands together in front of him, waiting for the handcuffs.
"Shit..." Harley muttered, eyes scanning her office. "I forgot the handcuffs..."
The Joker laughed, lowering his arms to place them over his lap.
"Ha! Guess you'll just have to trust me, huh?" he stated lowly, giggling in a high tone afterwards.
She scratched the back of her neck and nodded, turning to sit down.
Now she was a little frightened... there was no way she could ever stop him from hurting her now... But, she also felt... a little excited. What if, he didn't hurt her... but did something else?
'What the hell are you thinking! You're going crazy!'
She crossed one leg over the other, taking her notebook into her hands. Joker opened his mouth to remind her of what he'd told her in the last session but she lifted her eyes to look at him.
"It's just for show," Harley said quietly, feeling exposed as his annoyed glare turned into that of lust as they ran down her full length. "They'll start to wonder if I've got nothing to 'record' you with..."
She cleared her throat, shaking her head to the right to move the windswept fringe out of her eyes.
"I like your... lipstick." he said huskily, her eyes on his hands as they shifted from his sides to the top of his stomach, where his fingers drummed lightly. Her fingers shot to her lips and she tickled her bottom lip, realizing that it was her new dark burgundy lipstick.
"Y-You do?"
"Yes. You should wear it more often... It makes you... different."
Harley laughed and felt her cheeks blushing, finding 'different' the greatest compliment she had ever gotten. Her perfect white teeth showed as she grinned, making Joker grin too.
"Well... you suit purple." she said, cutely holding a finger under her bottom lip.
He gave her a wink and his eyes lit up with amusement as his toothy grin stayed present.
Harley felt a rush of butterflies fly right through her, her breathing starting to get shallow from the feeling. He had clearly noticed because he subtly sat up, those hands falling back down to his sides in order to hold him up.
She knew she should be asking questions but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it... it was as if when the Joker conducted how the conversation was going to go, it turned out to be much more interesting...
"Do you have any questions?" he asked, that gleeful amusement slightly dying out in his swirling emerald irises; his voice slipped into a slightly more English accent than American and her eyes fluttered as he spoke.
This time, Joker noticed the cause of her little flinch and pressed his lips into a cocky smirk, lying back down - those hands now entwined and around the back of his mint haired head.
God. He was so smooth.
"W-Where are you from Joker?" Harley managed to ask, swallowing as she noticed that she had pushed her chair closer.
"You tell me." he said darkly, his gaze tracing the neck of her shirt, eyes full of curiosity as they paused on her chest. "You make the story. And I'll believe it."
Inside she was utterly baffled. What the hell? What was this game? She couldn't work him out - why was he letting her create fictions about him? It was so stupid... but she loved it all the same. And she couldn't help herself.
"Well if I had to place you somewhere... I'd say, you were originally from England..."
Joker grinned.
He liked where this was going.
"And... um... You would be..."
"Were..." he corrected, forcing her to say her fiction to him in a more realistic way, like she was recalling real events that had happened to him.
"Okay... you were a Lord of a large county, you were kinda a playboy... and you had a huge country estate... With one of those gorgeous mansions..."
"Mmm yes! And each room was showered in purple!"
The two of them laughed and she pulled the chair nearer again, this time without knowing.
"And... your room was dark red... just like your lipstick," he added huskily, eye lids hooding over his viridian eyes as he gazed at her. "And maybe black, you do like black right?!"
Harley nodded, tilting her head in intimate wonder at him.
He sat up, those hands by his sides as he swung his legs so now they were face to face, eye to eye, although... Joker was a little taller so he had to look down on her slightly... But it was face to face as much as possible.
It was then, that it hit her... How close she was to him... It could only have been her own doing...
That was his game. He'd wanted her nearer. He'd needed to draw her in...
Despite knowing he was only toying with her, she so desperately wanted to find out what he so desperately wanted from her.
"Ya know, Baby Blue - "
Her eyes fluttered.
The grin crawled onto his face.
"I wish we had more sessions together. You're a helluva lot more interesting than the crazy dogs in here... And... everyone thinks I'm one of 'em too! But I'm not!"
Harley smiled, finding that she couldn't stop herself.
"So, if you're not, why are you in here?"
He closed his mouth and that cocky, selfish grin graced his ruby lips.
"'Guess I'm in here for being too damn clever. Well, I can't say I blame them. But it's not like I won't get out... Because I will."
God, she could listen to him for hours... It didn't matter what he was saying - it was just the sound he made, the emotions he conveyed - it sent chills down her spine... and she loved it.
She loved how he sounded... but what about how he felt? Would he be coarse and rough, tough and tense? She tried to stop herself from imagining but before she knew it, her hands were reaching forward, black nail polish on her fingers shining from the strip lights - the reflected light had caught his attention.
And he did nothing. He just sat there, watching her lean in closer, the smile curling his lips into the most inhuman emotion.
Her hands shook as he moved his own to settle on his lap; he was waiting to see whether she'd chicken out ... Yet she kept on leaning in, eyelids slowly lowering as her fingertips brushed over his bony knuckles.
His crystal clear skin was as soft as anything... so smooth and touchable. No one would've thought so...
Her other hand met his left one, stroking the skin which was the same there too. He inhaled sharply when her thumbs kneaded his palms, his own eyelids now heavy and hiding his eyes like he was sleepy.
She gently felt their torsos collide, her own chest feeling the strong, tough torso structure through his white shirt. Now her eyes were closed, she could feel only what she could described as his straight nose softly nuzzling against her own.
'This is wrong Harleen!'
'No, it... feels like I've found a new home.'
She let out a shuddered breath when she felt his lips' skin over her own, his ruby red mouth teasing her dark scarlet mouth.
Red teasing red.
A deep sigh left his lips and his breath moistened the outside of her dry mouth, her hands now being touched by his... Even then he'd made sure that he'd got every single scrap of power, however small or insignificant.
"Jokah," Harley whispered, her Brooklyn accent more obvious now he had set her free, in some kind of way he didn't really understand. "We can't..."
"We can." he replied in a breath, in the most believable, dependable demeanour he'd ever portrayed. "You trust me, don't you Harley?"
Harley.
"Yes..."
Joker smiled, squeezing her hands. She let out a sharp gasp from his nails digging into them and he launched forward, pressing his lips against her own. She moaned into him, from the pain he'd emitted to her hands, from the shock of what she was actually liking - and from what he was doing...
And from how he was making her act, and feel.
She was kissing him back now, her hands trying to escape his grasp to reach up and knot through his gorgeous green locks. He kept a firm grip on her, still making sure he was in control of her in some way.
His taste was irrational and unreal, like something from a fairy tale. Even if he was a villain in this so-called fairy tale, with his flavour, looks, charm and sadistic wit, she would probably be drawn to him every time.
Soon his hands let her own go, his own hands too eager to wrap around her body to care whether he had control now. She heard him rumble out a low groan when her fingers threaded through his hair, just as she had wanted to do a minute before...
Why was he doing this to her?
He wouldn't just do... such a romantic thing in order to involve her in a plan would he?
Even she knew that this wasn't like him.
But she couldn't help wondering: What was to come of their next session?
She internally fainted at the thought.
From then on, she knew that she would have to forgetthose handcuffs more often.