Disclaimer: This was written purely for my own sick amusement, and in no way whatsoever am I making any money off of it. Joker is the rightful property of Bob Kane and Bill Finger, as Harley Quinn is to Paul Dini and Bruce Timm. DC Comics and Warner Bro's has some sort of claim on their heads as well, I believe. No copyright infringement was intended. ..Please don't sue me.

Harley spun down the heavily cracked and neglected road, carelessly splashing through stagnant puddles of filth. She shrieked with laughter as muddy liquid leaped at her heels like an affectionate puppy. Her laughter was soon shared with two cackling beasts, excited by their mistress' whimsical play. They too were drunk with pleasure brought on by the interesting sights and smells of dusk in Gotham. The moon hanged high and pale in the sky, but the sun was only now sinking downward and out of sight.

Harley spun again, dizzily, as her hyenas pranced giddily around her in a nonsensical game of chase, in which just who exactly was chasing who was unclear, but mattered little.

Leaning against a slightly crooked lamppost, arms crossed and head tilted to the side as if listening intently, a clown looked on at his three fellow predators' antics with mild amusement. From his impossibly pale flesh, to his permanently etched grin that the man wore so well, it seemed like nothing at all about this being was natural. Indeed, with a blurry past outlined with chemical burns and 'back alley' surgeons, 'unnatural' didn't even begin to describe it.

"Watch me, Puddin'. Watch me!!" squealed the harlequin, pausing in mid-dance to plead for her beloved mate's undivided attention.

"I'm watching." confirmed the clown prince of crime, charmed by his lover's endearingly childish manner. While most men may have been disturbed by such gaudy behavior, ever reminiscent of little girls and filthy perversion, Joker remained the exception.

After all, while he faithfully watched Harley perform the stunts of a professional gymnast all for his personal viewing pleasure, the bounce of her firm, rounded breasts, and the scandalously wide spread of her legs, well- Joker was reminded of far more interesting things then underdeveloped youths.

As soon as the harlequin had gracefully touched ground once more, she grinned proudly at her Puddin', chirping a sweet "Ta-da!" to announce the end of her private performance. To Harley's utmost pleasure, Joker rewarded her with a one-man standing ovation; he was even kind enough to throw in an appreciative wolf whistle or two.

"Bravo, Harls', bravo!" he praised, stepping over the overflowing, leaf-choked gutter and onto the same damaged road as his dearly deranged companion. Harley bounced to his side, and Joker encircled her in a firm embrace. Resting her head against her lover's shoulder, the harlequin couldn't help but sigh with complete and utter bliss. This may very well be the best night of her life, and hey- It wasn't even night yet!

Eventually, though, the clown prince of crime pulled away. Reluctantly, but not too crestfallen, Harley accepted this and forced a smile for Joker's own benefit. She knew how her Puddin' felt about frowning, and after he had went to all the trouble of taking her out and being so nice to her on this special occasion, Harley really didn't want to come off as a spoiled brat. Perhaps if she was on her very best behavior, he might take her out again. After all, Harley really did love her Puddin', and despite what Poison Ivy, the doctors at Arkham, and hell- Even Batman said, she just knew that Joker loved her back.

Sure, Joker would sometimes hit her, say mean things, and occasionally try to kill her from time to time, but what relationship didn't have its' fair share of ups and downs? Harley knew that her Puddin' didn't mean any of it. In fact, Joker said and did a lot of things that he didn't mean. You just couldn't take those things too seriously… They were only jokes, after all. In fact, life itself was only a joke- Or at least, Harley's was and always had been. Thanks to her Puddin', she was finally learning to laugh along with it. Harley couldn't help but grin, thinking over all that her lover had taught her. He'd done so much for her; why couldn't anyone else see that?

The crash of metal against asphalt sang out from a nearby alley. The hyenas' ears perked with interest. A half-starved stray cat had tipped over a trashcan, its' contents spilling everywhere. She gingerly picked through the soggy newspaper and other assorted human filth in order to find the rotting food that would serve as her and her kittens' next meal. This all came to an end, however, as two cackling beasts tore after the feline, chasing her deeper into the alley and out of sight. There was a shriek of a yowl, but it was quickly muffled by malicious, inhuman laughter. They were upon the scraggly animal in a matter of seconds.

The two clowns looked on in silence. Soon, the faithful beasts came trotting back to their mistress and masters' side. Blood dripped from their muzzles, their tails wagging with content.

Joker affectionately ruffled the thick, knotted mane of the closest hyena, "Good boy." he muttered, his fixed grin slightly wider then usual, while Harley bent down, catching the other beast in an enthusiastic hug. "Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy!? You're a good boy, Bud!! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!!"

After thoroughly congratulating their four-legged companions on a successful hunt, they were soon back to wandering aimlessly through Gotham's poorly lit streets. They passed cheap hotels that were long ago boarded up, and several arcades that had been shut down, prizes in the claw machines still visible through cloudy glass windows.

"Ya' know what the sun looks like?" chirped Harley, gesturing towards the lazily descending sunlight in the horizon.

Joker glanced up towards the heavens. After a moment, he chuckled. He leaned over towards his favorite henchgirl, nipped teasingly at her earlobe, then whispered huskily, "Like she slit her wrists in the bathtub and the blood is all over the water."

Harley shivered; not from the cold, or even from the chilling words of the murderous psychopath that walked alongside her, but from the sensual feel of her Puddin's hot breath tickling her flesh. A malicious grin not unlike her lover's own flickered over Harley's face like candlelight; it shone brightly, lighting up her features with a gruesome realization, but it was gone- No, hidden as quickly as it had appeared. "-And the moon's just watching. He's just watchin' her die."

Joker licked along the edge of his harlequin's ear. He then pressed a light kiss against her heated pink cheek. "He must have driven her to it."

The two jesters suddenly broke apart, cackling madly at the sun's fate, the cruelties of the world, but most importantly at each other. It wasn't a hateful laughter- Not truly. It was a laughter that was both good and bad, sweet and bitter; it was a laughter that sang of passion. Indeed, Joker and Harley were very, very passionate creatures. As their faithful beasts joined in to laugh at the corrupted sun and triumphant, unnaturally pale moon, the two jesters made silent promises that tonight they'd show each other just how passionate they could really be.