"Who was that girl?" Harley demanded just as the Joker walked in through the door.

She spent the entire day lounging in their hideout. She wanted to help the Joker and his men on his missions, but he never let her. All he ever said to her was, "Not yet, Harls. There's always a time for you to shine. But not now."

Harley had to admit; the Joker was hard to understand at times. Most she did understand, since she always thought of herself as the only person who could understand him. But some of the things he told her just didn't make sense.

Like why she couldn't leave the hideous. She couldn't even go outside. All she was able to do was wait for him to get back, and he was almost never in a good mood.

"It's almost time," He would reassure her excitedly, rattling her thin shoulders. Harley would never help but beam up at him like a puppy, aching for more attention. "It's almost time for Harley Quinn to be shown to Gotham."

Ever since she broke him out of Gotham, he made her stay in the hideout. She didn't even know where the hideout was, the day they broke out was very…rushed.

"She'll love you." The Joker would tell her. Their conversation would end with a passionate and rough kiss; the kind Harley loved. She did wish he would be a bit gentler on her lips, for she could already feel them bruising and swelling up. And he held her head in place a bit too tightly, for her cheeks were throbbing when he let go.

But today was special. Harley, bored out of her mind, switched on the TV. And the Joker loved watching the news when he got back. Laughing at the fake politicians and his murder stories was utterly hilarious to him. But today…well the news was everything but funny.

Apparently the Joker went to that one billionaire's party for Dent. What was his name? The Wayne guy who owned Wayne Enterprises. Anyway, she watched what happened the night before. The Joker crashed the party, and Harley laughed at some of the things he said. Oh how she wished she could be by his side, cracking jokes along with him. Instead she had to stay cooped up in the hideout. But she had faith in the Joker. He told her that it wasn't her time to shine, so she knew he was right. He was always right. Her time will come to shine. And she definitely couldn't wait.

Anyway, so then the Joker met this brunette woman. Harley thought she looked like a skunk bad.

"You ain't even pretty." Harley griped, feeling rage inside of her when the Joker called her beautiful. Harley did, after all, always have a short temper span. "Look! Why is Puddin' so interested in her? She has wrinkles." Harley felt around her face to find smooth, young skin.

And then he touched her cheeks and Harley threw a flower pot (which was missing the flower, oh the irony) at the television. The entire screen cracked it went black. Harley huffed angrily, pouting at her cracked reflection.

Stupid ugly meat bag, she thought bitterly.

Then she tried to reassure herself. Of course her Joker loved her; not that stupid fake brunette. He was just pawning her in the game. That's why he threatened to push her out a window—he would never do that to her!

Harley re-buttoned the buttons she just unbuttoned. Her uniform, the Joker thought of, looked very similar to his. Except instead of his longs-sleeved, dark green shirt, she wore a dark red shirt with sleeves that reached her elbows. His shirt had hexagons decorating the sleeves; she had diamonds that were a darker red than the material. And just like he had a darker green vest, she had a darker red vest. And his purple gloves? Harley had red gloves that were cut off where her fingers were, giving her a punkish look. Her blonde hair was left to flow a little past her shoulders in soft waves. Every morning she put her makeup on (she enjoyed calling it makeup instead of war paint), and she loved how her makeup also resembled the Joker's. Her lips were black instead of red though, and she put her makeup on a bit more carefully to emphasize her feminine features.

She was planning on seducing the Joker when he got home. But after she saw that news report, she wasn't in the mood for seducing.

"What girl?" The Joker asked, taking off his purple trench coat. "Oh, I'll need you to wash my coat."

Harley glared at him. "The girl at Wayne's party. That girl you talked to."

He licked his lips. Harley knew that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He was just humoring her.

"What did she look like?"

"You know what she looked like?" Without a thought, Harley grabbed another nearby flower pot (which was also missing a flower) and threw it at him. Her aim was accurate and the pot crashed into the Joker's head, shattering into a million pieces.

Shockingly, Harley didn't regret hitting him. He deserved it. She still remembered that ugly girl's face, and how close he was to her. Then he told her she was beautiful. Was he getting bored of her? Was she no longer pretty? But she wasn't wearing any makeup like hers to match him! Why would he want her?

The Joker's eyes narrowed at Harley. He clutched his bleeding forehead, grunting for a moment. "What did I tell you about starting on the head, Harls?"

"Screw the head! Is she prettier than me? Is that why you called her beautiful?" Despite her anger, Harley felt tears form in her eyes. Whenever she got this angry, she started crying. And she hated it. "Y-you never call me beautiful."

"She's dead."

"Huh?" Harley blinked.

"She was just part of the game. Remember? This is all a game—like checkers. Didn't you know that?" The Joker shook his head like a wet dog. "That pot hurt like hell."

Only he would admit pain to Harley. To that, she smiled happily. "So you don't think she's pretty?"

The Joker swept Harley in his arms, holding her closely. He looked into her eyes and said, "Brunette's aren't my taste."

Harley whispered, "Am I your taste?"

The Joker answered her with a punch to the face. Harley spun for a moment from the sudden hit, and then went crumbling to the ground. Her cheek screamed in pain, a bruise quickly forming. She winced. She deserved that.

"How many times," The Joker said calmly with a smile, "do I have to tell you? I prefer women with an arm."

Harley whimpered from the floor.

"And guess what? You have a very good aim when it comes to shooting." The Joker stood over Harley, staring down at her with his head tilted. "And I like that."

Harley felt like he just asked her to marry him. Smiling, she sat up and looked at him. It hurt to smile, even with the bruise, but she figured that it was all right. "You think I have a good aim?"

"Judging by the headache I have, you have a great aim."

"Oh, Puddin!'" Harley shakily stood up, and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry for hittin' ya on the head. I guess I just got jealous is all."

The Joker glanced at the TV to see its current condition. He laughed wildly, and Harley's grin widened at his laugh. "The TV thinks you have a great aim, too."

"Ya know what I realized?" Harley asked.

"What?"

"That the flower pots have no flowers."

The Joker and Harley busted out laughing, holding each other for support from their wild laughter. If not for their maintaining, they would've fallen to the floor since they were laughing so hard.

"T-that's also what I like." The Joker said in-between laughter. "A girl with a sense of humor. My sense of humor."

Harley felt like she was already in the limelight. She liked this much better than being outside. Having his attention on her was her addiction.

"And I like that. I really like that."

Sorry if this seems too fluffy or whatever! I tried my best to keep the Joker in character, and I tried not to make Harley Quinn like the comic version, more Nolanverse. I was really writing in a different approach in the beginning, but then it just...changed. There will be more one-shots from me coming soon, so keep an eye out! They won't all revolve Harley Quinn, but they WILL involve the Joker. You can count on that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. None of this is a profit. I'll do this all for free if I had the choice.

:)SmilinForYa:)