Hello Puddins', I know I am a terrible human being for keeping everyone waiting for so long but I got a new job and had to climatise to a new shift pattern.

I have exciting news for you all, I am writing a new story completely unrelated to this one and more of fun light hearted piece called 'Heathens'. The tasty chapter will be posted shortly after this. I hope you enjoy it and show it as much love as you do this one.

Anyway, enjoy this Chapter.

Nessa

xoxoxo

Chapter 27

Every second felt like an hour as Harley stared at the metal floor of the van, praying she did not hear the noise of gunshots or shouting, praying that at any moment someone would let her know they were safe. Jonny was sitting, his body pressed to the wall of the truck as he desperately tried to get his talkie to connect to J's, but no connection could be made, the other talkie was dead.

Harley could feel the tears slowly oozing from her eyes and she desperately wiped them, knowing that her puddin' wouldn't want her to cry, even in the loss of him. A million thoughts ran through her head in that moment. She could jump from the van and race into the museum, confronting batman, and if her puddin' really was dead, hopefully getting put into Arkham. She could live out the rest of her days desperately making the Joker's work count for something, following in his footsteps to carry on his legacy. But she knew she would always feel empty if there was no Joker, because she was made for him and him alone, she gave up her world to embrace his and without him in it there would be no reason to laugh anymore.

A series of footfalls outside made her ears prick like a dogs and she lifted her head in time to see the door to the van swing open, and a mess of green hair ushering bodies inside. She made eye contact with her Joker and in that moment she could see her relief reflected in his eyes, he was happy she was safe too. She couldn't dwell on the warm buzz she got from that realization though as she charged into the cab of the van, turning the kep and pumping the clutch. She floored the gas just as the door to the van closed and the wheels screeched as she raced from the scene of the crime.

As soon as they were on the streets of Gotham city, making their get a way the Joker started to cuss and shout at the people around him, declaring he would have all their heads for this. The mission went badly, they had only escaped because of a distraction Nygma had insisted on installing as the others moved on with the mission. Penguin had tripped a silent alarm on the way through and the bat caught wind of the issue, they hadn't even made it near the diamond when Bruce had arrived and Harley sighed. She was not in for a good night now the mission had failed.

Harley circled the city for an hour or so just to be sure they weren't being followed and then she pulled into the hide out she shared with Joker. Everyone leapt from the van as soon as the door opened and made their escapes to their own hide outs. How she envied the way they could get away from the Joker when he was in one of these moods.

"Puddin', it'll be okay, at least it wasn't a serious mission." Harley tried to comfort him, placing her hand softly on his shoulder.

He roughly shook it off and whirled on her, eyes blazing with pure fury. "Not serious! Every time I decide to do something it is to be taken completely seriously Harley! If there is any possibility of the Bat turning up it is something NOT to be taken lightly. I knew I should not have listened to you! You know nothing! You're just a dumb broad with a pretty face and a hot body! Nothing more than a distraction, and I will not be distracted any longer!" He roared and then turned on his heel, leaving Harley stunned and hurt in the garage of their hide out.

She felt her face flush with hurt and heartbreak and she knew she needed to get out, there was no point staying where she was not wanted. She quickly made her way up the stairs to the bedroom she used to share with the Joker, and began shoving things into a bad desperately, not sure if it was essential or not, neither caring if it was. She grabbed the small stash of money she had kept every time the Joker had given her some to get herself clothes or essentials and counted it. It wasn't much but enough to start herself on. Tying her hair into a bun so the dual ends were not visible and wiping away her signature make up, she wrapped a long coat around her body and lifted her suitcase down the stairs. She could hear the Joker throwing things around his office and she knew he would not hear her escape, relieved in the fact that she may get away without a bullet nestling itself in her skull.

Her eyes glanced over the numerous photos she had dressed the walls with, ones of her hugging the Joker, of him unhappily posing for Christmas or birthday photos or the photos taken on the sly when he was unaware or doing something completely out of character. She smiled sadly and wiped away the tear that had managed to escape her eyes. On the kitchen counter sat the box that her new jacket had been presented in only mere hours ago. She returned the scrunched up fabric to the box and reached behind her to unlock the choker that she cherished so much. Pulling it from her neck and landing one soft, final kiss upon the cold metal of the letters that meant to so much to her she delicately laid it atop the jacket.

Sat there on the table in a gift box big enough to fit a ball gown sat her entire world in gifts and she knew that no matter where she went or who she became after this she belonged to the Joker. She had given up her sanity to be his and now she was nothing but a crazy chick in a world that wanted her dead.

A small sob left her throat and she knew she had to leave before the Joker calmed down enough to come down and retrieve liquor from the cabinet. In a last gesture she grabbed the scotch and poured him a glass, neat no ice, just the way he liked it. She left it beside the box and tore a piece of paper from a near by book, flipping it to the blank page behind and scribbling a note on it's worn surface.

I'm sorry I wasn't a better side-kick, I overdosed on our love and in return got addicted. There will never be someone quite like you, you bring out my demons, I'm just sorry they didn't play so nice with yours.

Goodbye Mistah J,

Yours eternally,

Harleen Frances Quinsel.

THE END

Kidding :P