And I am the idiot with the painted face
In the corner, taking up space
But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved
Me and My Husband / Mitski
Pamela paused in typing as a knock sounded on her door. She glanced up at the door from the far wall of the makeshift lab she had created in the ratty hotel. She waited, patiently, laying her hand on the gun Frost had left her the first time they met. Then Frost hammered out the rest of the code he had established. She sighed, standing to open the door.
The man shoved a black bag into her hands without prompting. "Your cut. It should be enough to… Well, whatever you want really." He shrugged. Pam opened the bag, eyes widening at the cash within.
"Holy Shit…"
"Yeah." He laughed. "Not bad for a couple of hours of work, huh?"
"This is more than I make in a year…"
He snorted. "Hear that, Ma? I make more than a Doctor."
She laughed, and he turned away, smirking. She started to close the door but swung it open, shouting after him. "Hey!"
He spun, eyebrows climbing, and Pam stuttered. Please don't make me go back in there alone right now. "I'm feeling… restless… and… you're kind of the only person I can… hang out with-"
"You wanna hang?"
"Yeah." She sighed. Johnny wasn't much of a friend, but she enjoyed his quiet energy and the fact that he seemed to only have platonic feelings for her, something in short supply in men. Something about the man, well, it made her want to call him a friend.
"Well," He seemed unsure. "I– Well." He sighed. "I'm definitely not supposed to tell you, but J is taking everyone out tonight to celebrate today, and I have been designated," He chewed the word. "To drive them home.
"Why weren't you-" She stopped, taking a breath. "Harley is going?"
"Yes, and I'm not gonna take you unless you swear not to get my ass kicked." He pointed an accusatory finger at her, "Which he will. And I'm a feminist. If he kicks my ass I'll kick yours."
"That's not-" She took a breath, "Fine. I swear, I won't cause a scene."
He looked at her seriously. "Fine. Get dressed."
"In what?"
"Clothes." He rolled his eyes, turning his back. "Women. I'll be in the car."
She sighed, looking in her suitcase, and through the clothes she had picked up since Johnny had found her and began sending her cash. She chose a nice black skirt and lifted two blouses, one in white with small black polka-dots, and one in rich forest green, with gold embroidering around the collar. She rolled her eyes, dropping the white shirt. I don't know why I even pretend. Ensured her wig was still on correctly, and not tilted, before chasing after Johnny in the parking lot.
"Mr. Joker," Sionis had his greasiest smile on, grinning up at us from his spot on a couch obviously intoxicated, and in high spirits, "Please, bring him and his woman a drink," He shoved the woman leaning across his chest off, and she stood, making her way quickly from the lavish black and gold VIP room. "You did me a great service today, Mr. Joker." He stood, crossing the room to shake hands with him.
"Did I?" He put on a confused voice and Sionis laughed heartily.
"What you did at Beaumonts today? A thing of beauty. Show those bastards they don't belong on this side of the river." He slapped J's back, grinning ear to ear. "Sit! Sit!" He gestured to the couch behind him, but J made no move towards it. I followed suit, deciding that would be my best bet.
Joker glanced down at me then, eyes conveying the message he couldn't speak loud and clear. Oh, I see what you mean.
I giggled, looking away, and Sionis's eyes flashed to me before quickly away. Yeah, you recognize me, huh, Roman? The fact that I wasn't removed immediately told me that Roman really wanted Joker on his side. I remembered waking up the night after Christmas, maybe six years ago, with Pam explaining that I had broken a bottle over the bartender's head for cutting me off, and then attempted to fistfight the 6'3 bouncer before Eddie was able to carry me out.
I was sure I would never step into the slinky, sexy club again. A couple of felonies can really open doors in this town, I bit my lip, stopping another laugh as the woman returned with drinks for us. Two glasses, and a decanter of whiskey. Fucking show-off. I rolled my eyes at the expensive liquor but didn't refuse when the rocks glass was slid into my hand. I sipped on it, but almost did a spit-take when I looked up to see J slug it down his throat in one go like a shot. I watched Roman's face freeze momentarily, and the giggle slipped through.
"Smooth," J nodded at the glass, before glancing up, smiling in that friendly way, that was anything but friendly. "So, I heard we have a table?"
Roman's face dropped, but quickly reset into a friendly smile. "Absolutely. Amanda," He called and the same girl from before slunk over to him, smiling. "Take them to a VIP room-"
"Near the Dance floor." I interrupted, before glancing up at J wide-eyed, though he only nodded, not looking at me.
"Near the Dancefloor, please." He finished, smile becoming only slightly more genuine, and looking away. Fucking ew, don't say he- "The tab is on me tonight.'
I elbowed J, making him look down, before I bit my lip, scrunching my nose as I did the universal gesture for score! as he rolled his eyes. The woman in the blue vinyl dress led us to a small enclosed booth, to the side of the dancefloor. She opened a small set of fabric-covered sliding doors, hiding them deftly, before untying the black velvet curtains. Just slipping back into the black velvet seating, the heavy base of the room faded slightly, the extremely heavy curtains would help as well. Sliding in, J opened his mouth to speak to the woman but she disappeared.
"Where the fuck am I gonna get booze now?" His lips turned into an exaggerated frown. "This place sucks."
I laughed, leaning out of the booth and glancing around. Within a moment one of the Bottle Service girls saw my look and walked over, eyes widening only slightly after taking in Joker, before focusing her eyes on me and turning on a megawatt smile. "Hello, and welcome to The Tar Pit–"
"Hey, yeah, you don't gotta- do all of that." I interrupted, waving a hand. "I'm sure you know we are guests of the owner?" I waited for a response, and she nodded mutely, glancing back at J. "And you know he's covering our tab?" Another nod, eyes returning to me. "Cool, so go ahead and start us with the VIP Bottle Service Package. We want our Free bottle to be one of the Ace of Spades from the top shelf- Stop. Look me in the eyes and understand. If you put a sparkler on our bottle we will fistfight. Cool? Cool. We want to add on a bottle of Belvedere, another of Don Julio 1942, and to round it out," I considered, shaking my head as my face scrunched, "A bottle of the nicest whiskey you got!" I smiled, "Oh, and don't skimp on the mixers and fruit please!" She staggered away, and I leaned back into the plush exterior.
J glanced at me, eyes narrowing. "What the hell did you order?"
"Vodka, Tequila, and Whiskey?"
"Why didn't you say that? And what's with the fruit?" He asked, eyebrows coming together.
"Some of these clubs offer it so that too-drunk party sluts can keep dancing until their one-power-hour Romeo gets them home." I shrugged.
"Okay…" He still seemed confused.
"And I figured you might want some," I shrugged.
He rolled his eyes. "I like fruit fine, but it's the sugar I'm after, Bunny."
"Okay, maybe I'll have some,"
"Well, now hold on. I don't like the sound of these One-hour Romeos?" His tone was serious and venomous, but his eyes remained light.
"Eh, better keep an eye on me then," I giggled, and he leaned over, biting at my neck, smearing his paint on my neck, and making me slap at him, and laugh.
The curtains opened, and I jumped away from J. Johnny and Pam stood at the entrance of the small enclave. J's lip curled and he glared at Johnny, who looked away. I stood up, hugging Pam with my full chest.
"Thank god you made it! Sit down! The first round of bottles is on the way! I ordered your favorite!"
"You invited her?" J glared at me, making Red turn withering eyes on him, before blinking and looking away in a panic.
"Yes, of course I did!" I said exasperatedly, turning to Johnny when J wasn't looking, to give him a wink he seemed to appreciate, as the both of them slid into the tiny room, and pulled the curtains mostly closed. Still loud as hell, but much better. "We're meant to be celebrating right? She should too!"
His nose wrinkled, but before he could speak, two Bottle-Girls returned, both carrying a heavy tray. They laid them down quickly and left before I could dig their tip out of my purse.
"Hm, maybe gratuity is included now?" I shrugged, reaching for a strawberry, and sliding the bubbles to the middle of the table. "Someone open this, I want to live my Y2K Victoria's Secret Fantasy."
Johnny snorted, grabbing the bottle, turning it towards the curtains, and expertly opening the bottle, pouring what little spilled into a dainty glass, which he handed to me before filling three more and passing them out, J sniffed at it, glancing at me.
"I don't know if I've ever had champagne," He sounded curious, but laid the glass back down, eyeing it as though it was an animal. I snorted, enjoying myself. Champagne wasn't really my vibe, but I loved the idea of making Roman Sionis spend so much money on little old me. Honestly, I could have gotten down with a couple of handles of Titos, but we were celebrating after all.
Pam sipped on the drink, smiling, "Ooh, this is nice,"
J eyed her, looking back to the drink, and grimacing.
"Such a baby!" I laughed, and he scowled, lifting the drink and downing it in a single swallow. "You know, something about watching you knock back not one, but two glasses, with hundreds of dollars worth of liquor in them like its bottom shelf swill really keeps my image of you in check."
"That was worth more than a hundred dollars?" He stared, and I smirked.
"Well if our oh-so-generous host is paying," I looked away innocently. "Why not appreciate his generosity to the fullest?"
He grinned evilly, "I like the way you think."
The night carried on, and sometime around halfway through our second bottle of tequila, and Red's only bottle of Vodka, Waylon showed up, half drunk already, which he regretted severely when he found out we got bottle service. I leaned on J, his hands wrapped around my waist, and my head on his shoulder. At one point I giggled to him that I wished he had kept my greasepaint- Pen, causing him to produce it from a pocket, offering it to me with an evil grin. We were alone in the tiny room, Pam, Johnny, and Waylon all taking to the dance floor.
"What happened to this lowering my inhibitions too much?"
"Eh, life is short. Besides, who am I to deny you a vice?"
"Don't stop me from kissing you, this time," I said, before taking a hit, leaning on him more heavily.
"As if you could reach, you tiny weirdo,"
My head felt lighter already, and I closed my eyes, feeling the music coursing through me. I hummed a little tone before speaking. "I wanna dance, do you wanna come?" I looked up at him, and he chuckled.
"Maybe later, go have fun." He said it like an order, and I pressed a kiss beneath his jaw as I climbed over him, and made my way to do just that. Pam was tangled up with a group of women, and Johnny had his arms slung low over the hip of a woman whose appearance confirmed Joker's previous statements. I pursed my lips to avoid a smile, turning my back. A lid for every pot.
The music pounded through me, starting as it always did, in my core, guiding my hips in swaying, and dipping in spots, and my head thrown back, I took another hit of the pen, blowing noxious green smoke directly into the air as I lost myself to that desperate physicality that drew me so much. I was not Harleen, or Harley, or anyone at this moment. I was simply a body, breathing, and feeling, and experiencing. A hand wrapped around my waist, and I smiled.
"Changed your-" I turned, planning to tease him, but stopped when I took in the face of the loser, much shorter, and with a scummy douche-face. "Ew. Go away." I pulled away from him, intent on returning to my dance without some slimy nerd in a blazer attached to my ass.
"Come on!" His shout came from close to my ear, "I dig your whole Goth thing, but there's no reason to be a bitch,"
"Baby, I haven't been a bitch. Do you want me to be a bitch?" I sneered over my shoulder at him.
"Your loss, there's plenty of cheap-sluts to choose from."
"What the fuck did you say to me?" I turned, gripping his arm, in a grip I couldn't control, knuckles going white, then red, then white again.
"Get your hand off me you crazy-" He was cut off by my other hand, balled into a fist, sinking into his untensed torso, making him lose his breath, bent at his midsection before I tucked my lips around my teeth the way my father taught me, stretching my face just so to slam my head against his nose, now at my level.
"You need to learn how to speak to a fuckin' lady," I spit, turning away, only to discover several sets of eyes on me. I sighed, expecting the bouncer to come and remove me, but slowly, the eyes moved away. I blinked in confusion, before shrugging and getting back to my dance. Guess running with J has more advantages than I thought.
Pam watched as the night progressed, biting her lip occasionally at Harley's behavior. She hadn't seen her so wild in years, and she wondered if it was a good idea. Harley had worked so hard to learn moderation, to learn her limits, rather than continuing to push them until the sidewalk ends. This isn't going to end well.
She tried to focus on her own drinks and dancing, having a nice night, but as the night wore on, she began to regret coming. All she wanted to do was get back to researching, get back to finding out what the hell was going on. She had gotten more samples from Paradise meadows from Johnny when he had come to get her to meet his boss, and she had been unable to fully analyze them as of yet.
Pamela Isley knew that finding out what Woodrue Incorp was up to was the only way to go back to her normal life. But it was more than that. The trees in Paradise Meadows were rotting at the roots in a way she had never seen, turning an odd shade of dark blue, as the rot settled in, destroying the wood within. The waterways that used to be filled with fish- were now chillingly empty, quiet in a way that made her stomach eat into her spine. She hadn't seen so much as a goddamn squirrel there in all the months she had studied.
It was chilling, and frustrating, seeing how they took and took and still, the best she could hope was to bring the information to the news, and hope not to be assassinated afterward. Looking up to where her friend and Waylon were dancing, excitedly, Pam's eyebrows came together, glaring back at the table where the clown sat, sipping a glass of whiskey, his eyes flashing around the room. This is all your fault. I am gonna do whatever I can to make sure she fucking survives you.
Hours later, in the early morning, Harley and Waylon were screaming-singing at each other in the car, with J on the other side of her looking out the window, eyes searching. Johnny rubbed his temples, headache setting in. He had wanted to take the brunette at the club home, Amanda her name had been, but he couldn't exactly put her into the car with not one but two criminal clowns and the behemoth cajun.
As the Ludacris song faded out, right on time, as Johnny pulled up in front of the decrepit apartment building that Waylon could afford to leave if it weren't for his love of poker and terrible luck. He slid out of the car, Harley telling him to take aspirin and grab some water before lying down. J found that very funny, head tilting back as he laughed, suddenly, thoughtful mood broken as Johnny continued carting the inebriated clowns back to the Hotel.
He jumped out of the car running around to open the door for the whispering, and giggling pair, the taller of the two winking at Johnny, as he slung an arm over the shorter one's shoulders, making their way inside.
Johnny shook his head, once again thinking to himself that the Doc was good for J, though he wondered if the same could be said about her. He climbed into the car and drove back to the club, knowing that if the charger wasn't in front of the hotel by morning there would be hell to pay.
Harley fell across the bed, not bothering to undress or clean up at all, only reaching for the remote, and clicking on the TV. Joker shook his head, a rueful smile crossing his face as he lifted each of her feet, removing the shoes and socks, to ensure she wouldn't get blisters, before turning to look at what programming she had decided on. He chuckled, sitting down on the bed beside her to slip off his own shoes, but leaving on the holey socks beneath.
"You know she may have been my very first wet dream?" He laughed loudly, volume control gone.
"Fran Fine?" She giggled up at him, eyes dancing in the dark room, He nodded down at her before responding.
"Uh- Yeah- The Nanny is hot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! Not afraid to wear color and show off, either. Hell of a woman."
She smiled, reaching up to pull Joker down to kiss her. He did, hesitantly, which made Harley's jaw clench.
"What did I say about-"
"Yeah, yeah." He sighed, wrapping his hand around her chin and kissing her deeply, taking as long as he could to taste her. When he finished, she blinked up at him, a dumb smile spread on her face like butter on hot toast.
"You're so beautiful," Her voice was nearly as soft as her eyes, staring up at him with swollen lips.
"Beautiful?" His eyebrows come together, "I know it is in the eye of the beholder, Doc, but-"
"Shut up," She reached up, running her fingers through his hair as he leaned over her. "Shut up, and kiss me again."
"Nah, I don't think I will," He smiled.
"Why not?" I groaned, covering my eyes.
He was silent for a long time, for so long I didn't think he would answer. But he did, voice quiet, but firm. "You- uh, run away enough. I don't like handing you excuses for it."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means that I don't want you to be able to explain me away. Drugs, liquor. No Harley, you're just in love with me."
"This again?"
"Yeah,"
"J, I like you, really, but–"
"But? I don't wanna talk about it, you're clearly still in denial." He chuckled, shaking his head.
Harley opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Joker stood, unbuckling his belt and beginning to take off his jeans, unfortunately, Harley heard the noise sitting straight up in bed like a fucking corpse. "Fucking creepy," He giggled, working to remove his shirt now. Within only a moment he stood in only his white undershirt, black boxers, and holey white socks, an image Harley seemed to find hilarious.
"God-" She giggled, covering her mouth, "You look-"
He rolled his eyes, pulling the drunk girl back into a standing position before pulling back the blankets, and wrinkling his nose. He would be freezing in here, and this blanket was so thin. I can't wait to get back to the office.
He turned back to the still laughing girl, head shaking as he took in her smeared make-up, bleary eyes, and hands brought up, fists over her mouth as she watched him.
'You know, some men would be offended," He sighed a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head, before he felt her slap his shoulder.
"Shut up, I fuck you don't I? Worse than a girl," She teased, and for a moment he bristled, before he took a breath, reminding himself that she was joking.
"One day you're gonna rag at me at the wrong fucking time." He said, only half joking, and she responded with a shrug. "Not worried about it?"
"Well, one day you'll probably piss me off too."
"You mean like the guy earlier tonight? Excellently executed headbutt, by the way, so many people don't do it right."
She shrugged at him, where he sat on the bed, smirking. "Dad taught me."
"Yeah? What else did he teach you?"
Another shrug. "Plenty,"
"Yeah? Ever have a Daddy-Daughter day at work?"
She chuckled. "No, I never went quite that far until Guy, and then, well. With you, now I guess. I think it… scared me."
Joker took in her faraway eyes. 'I'm scared that I'm crazy,'
"Nothing to be scared of. It's just bodies. Meat and electricity." He stood, running his hands down her arms softly. "This isn't you." He smiled, and her eyebrows came together. He traced her waist softly. "Neither is this." He placed a hand over her heart, feeling it beat beneath his palm. "Not even this."
She laughed, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I am my brain, this is my body."
"No, you don't get it." He sighed heavily, hands coming up to wrap around her face. "Your brain is just salt and meat. Just another bit of your body. You're the electricity. Zinging through the cells of gray matter at the speed of sound, gifting you each of your senses from this meat we live in." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. It just puts shit in perspective, I think. Who cares about a bunch of walking meat bags."
"Are you always so philosophical when you drink?"
"No, usually it makes me easy, but I already told you that isn't happening tonight, so I gotta put that energy into something else." He sat down on the bed, swinging his legs onto the bed and crossing them, before opening his laptop. She shoved the decrepit computer from his lap, swinging one leg over both of his and settling into a comfortable position on his thighs.
"This seat taken?"
"Yes, it was." He shook his head reaching for the laptop, but Harley closed it with one delicate finger. He sighed. "Harley-"
"I'm not trying to fuck you," She quoted him mockingly, smirking. "I just wanna touch you a little, is that okay?"
He blinked at her. "Fine, but keep it above the belt." He sighed, trying to relax under her hands. The hands that were, coming up to stroke his hair. Then his neck, softly tracing the contours with her open palms, before spreading out along his shoulders, then down his chest with soft touches from just her fingertips.
"May I take this off?" She pulled at the undershirt, looking at him with coy eyes, and his jaw worked, before he tilted his head back, and nodded.
She lifted the tucked ends from his boxers, and he helped to finish pulling it off the rest of the way. "Don't get too cocky," He lifted an eyebrow, moving the laptop again, this time entirely off the bed, before leaning back to give her access, but also watching her with hesitant eyes.
"I'm not even that drunk you know," She sighed, running her hands through his hair again, before scooting closer to him, though J made sure she wasn't too close to keep his head on right. He was slowly sobering up, and he was thankful Waylon had been in the car now, though when he initially saw the gargantuan third wheel (Johnny didn't count, he had seen J do far worse.) in the backseat he had been pissed. Her little display with the finance asshole had made him dizzy with how fast all his blood left his head. The reminder made him chuckle.
"Bull. Shit." He kept his tone joking, though he was beginning to get irritated, not used to having to be the one with self-control.
She giggled, leaning on his chest suddenly. "Can I sleep like this?"
"No." He grunted, and she frowned, before he scooted into a horizontal position, keeping her lying on his chest. "You can sleep like that though." She giggled, kissing his jaw.
"You're so sweet. Nobody has ever treated me like you do."
"And how do I treat you?" He looked down at her again, amused, but her eyes were genuine, a small smile on her face.
"Like your girl."
"That's because you are, you crazy woman." He grinned, shaking his head.
"Yeah?" She yawned, as he clicked off the light.
"Yeah." And don't fucking forget it.
AN: Please comment if you enjoyed it! That is my only motivation lol