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Pygmalion

Pygmalion

Classical Mythology. A sculptor and king of Cyprus who carved an ivory statue of a maiden and fell in love with it. It was brought to life, in response to his prayer, by Aphrodite.

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"Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness." – Allen Ginsberg

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Sometimes, there were just really, really bad days.

Those were the days where everything that happened was completely out of control. One thing lead to another, and finally everything went completely to hell. Despite the fact that all attempts were made to fix it, and the relentless uphill battle with fate to change things, it all turned out to be for nothing. Once everything is over, and the explosion of emotions has left only the feeling of emptiness behind, there is complete silence inside.

And then … the epiphany.

Maybe fighting the chaos wasn't the answer.

Instead, maybe embracing it was the solution.

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"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." – Marilyn Monroe

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Doctor Harleen Quinzel had done only a few things of note in her entire life-span. She followed the rules, obeyed orders and finally got to a point where she thought that she may actually be able to do some good. All that she had ever wanted in life was to exist as herself, never to affect others or the world. She was perfectly content to spend the rest of her life in the shadows, seeing as that was where she had been her entire life. There was a security in being somewhere that was familiar.

Then again, that was before she had a few thousand volts of electricity run through her head.

The wooded baseball bat made a sickening, dull scratching sound against the tile floor as she dragged it behind her. Grasping a hold of the door frame with her free hand, Harleen attempted to steady herself. The entire world was spinning no matter how hard she held onto the world around her. A dark red blood stain remained on the crisp, white tile walls as she released it and took another step forward.

Her head hurt, badly.

It literally felt like her brain was throbbing on the inside of her skull, blood pulsing through her system so mercilessly.

And it wasn't just because of the deafening sound of the blaring alarm going off all around her, or the flashing red lights that continued to interfere with her already blurry sight. Blinking rapidly, she attempted to halt the way her eyes continued to dart back and forth without her consciously moving them. Heart pounding, she could the metallic taste of blood was still in her mouth, despite the fact that her lips and tongue had stopped bleeding.

As she steered left and then to the right as she walked, she noticed that she couldn't prevent her legs from almost collapsing every time she took a step. Her stocking feet were mangled and torn, completely unaware of all the shards of glass that she was stepping over.

Her hair continued to keep falling into her face, paper-white locks still mangled and damp like the rest of her. But she didn't bother trying to brush them out of her face, because she knew that it would only result in her falling onto her face again. As she stumbled closer to her destination, she caught a glimpse of herself in the floorlength mirror that served as the wall.

If she hadn't been in so much pain, she probably would have stopped to stare; she didn't know if she recognized herself.

The pale, ghostly creature in the mirror was only a phantom of her former self. Her sandy blond hair and peach skin were gone. Dripping from head to toe with moisture, her bleach white skin and hair resembled nothing like her former self. She could see her breasts heaving as they practically fell out of what had been left of her shirt. The red silk had been melted down to only a sliver of material that barely preserved her modesty, and the wool skirt that had accompanied it was very much the same. What she could call stockings were only meagerly staying on her legs, as with each step she lost another piece of them.

Once she reached her destination, she didn't even bother looking up as she smashed a hole through the glass in her path. She reached her arm through the door and unlocked the door. There was yelling from someone in front of her.

Oh, just shut the hell up!

She heard herself let out a sigh of relief when she saw the person fall over to the ground with a dull thud. The bat dropped out of her slippery hands with a dull thud as it snapped in two over. The sickening crunch of bone made her so giddy. Despite her pain, she surprised herself with how hard she's managed to hit the person over the head.

Just a thunk and a crack, and they were gone.

Hands came up to hold her down. They held her back from her destination, and all she could remember was that she wanted them to let go. She found herself crushing a nose with her elbow, slamming her head into another forehead before thrusting her heel into a diaphram. She was dropped onto her feet, and she felt laughter falling from her lips.

It felt so good to laugh.

Her broken bat was replaced with … a gun, so it appeared. As she raised it up in front of her and squeezed, the figures yelling at her all fell one right after another. Just a small "pop", and all the stupid, noisy people went away forever.

How glorious ...

Her fingers finally rested onto a console of buttons, and she held onto the computer screen in front of her with two hands.

Now, where was that button again?

The alarms suddenly stopped, and there was a very awkward pause. She found a microphone in her hands, and pressed a button. The sound of her giggles echoed all around her and through the walls.

"Attention Arkham Patients," she found herself singing between her fits of laughter. "Harley Quinn here. For those of you not back in your cells by the time I find you, please know that you will be exterminated on the spot. Thank you for your cooperation."

Now, that hadn't been so hard, had it?

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"I think the scariest person in the world is the person with no sense of humor." – Michael J. Fox

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Several weeks later.

"Dr. Quinzel."

Silence.

"Dr. Quinzel."

Giggle.

"Dr. Quinzel!"

"There is no one here by that name … please call back later or leave a message at the beep—Beep!"

Pause.

"Ms. Quinn then. Did you comprehend anything about what I just said?"

Giggle.

"Something about an experiment, gangs and a city. Sounds very boring—why the hell should I care?"

"That is because if you agree to my terms, I will get them to let you out of this place."

Silence.

"No one knows you are here, Harley. Dr. Quinzel doesn't exist anymore, remember? If I ask them to, they will throw away the key and you'll be be staring at these walls for the rest of your life."

Silence.

"Do you want to stay in here, or would you like to go outside and have some fun?"

Giggle.

"You're gonna let me out to play? Last time I played, all of you got very mad."

"That will happen when you kill as many people as you did, Ms. Quinn."

Sigh.

"Why you gonna let me out, huh?"

"It usually takes days to take control of a prison after a riot. You gained control of the worst criminal mental institution in the world in three hours … by yourself."

Laugh.

"All by my lonesome."

"You singlehandedly disposed of over one hundred armed or dangerous men, all while recovering from electric shock exposure."

Giggle.

"Was it really so few? It felt like more . . ."

"I am not a patient person, Ms. Quinn. The only reason you aren't in jail is because of my influence. I am giving you one chance to take my proposal; take the deal, and you will be able to walk the streets freely. Leave it, and I will not be asking again."

Pause.

"Okay, lady, I'll bite, but I have one … teeny, itty-bitty … condition."

Silence.

"You stay the hell out of my way."

" … Done."

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"Nothing is perfect. Life is messy. Relationships are complex. Outcomes are uncertain. People are irrational." – Hugh Mackay

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Some time later.

Harley Quinn unloaded her sawed-off shot gun into security guard's abdomen and he fell over in a pool of blood. She erupted with laughter and clapped her hands together, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Another one bites the dust!" she sang, dancing triumphantly.

A man who could only be described as a mountain came up beside her. Adorned with a blue and red diamonded mask, he carried a large barrel over his shoulder. "Where do you want this, boss?"

The bubbly blonde bashed another guard over the head with a large mallet, a smilie face the last thing the man saw before his brains were smashed over the floor. With a skip and a hop, Harley hop-scotched over to the small table in the center of the room.

She pushed off whatever it was on top before gently plopping herself down smoothly, making sure not to ruffle her skirt as she did so. The sheer black, gold-diamonded patterned fabric was delicate afterall. Besides her leather jacket, it was the only thing covering her bright red push up bra and bright blue booty shorts. Sure she had a bright red garter belt to hold up her studded black stockings, but that didn't count.

As she made sure her outfit was as perfect as could be, Harley took evaluation of the situation in front of her with a pondering stare.

Looking around the large vault they were currently occupied, Harley had three new doors to choose from. Hm … decisions, decisions.

"Hm," she muttered, pointing between them. "Diamonds, gold, or … mystery?" she asked herself, pointing between the three. With an exagerated sigh, she finally picked one. "Oh, right over there, Monty," she finally pointed to the third door to the right. It wasn't like it mattered anyway. "I guess that's a good place as any."

Monty and two other hulking figures in matching attire prompty set their barrels down in the corner. Once upright, the markings of TNT in bright, bold scribbled letters could be seen.

Harley giggled as she anticipated the "boom!" that was bound to come any moment now.

As her goons lit led out the detonation wire and hooked it up to the little box, Harley sat on the desk practically dancing as she hummed to herself. "Is it set up yet?"

"Almost, boss," answered another one. She was sure that one was Lenny—or at least that's what she'd started calling him that morning.

Almost dancing in her place on the desk, while she waited, Harley decided to flip around onto her stomach and kick her heels into the air. She smiled at the work in front of her. It was so nice to have some muscle around to do the heavy lifting. She'd have to get more with their score today. Placing her head in her propped up hands, she continued to kick her legs up and down, but she had to remember to be careful.

The red and blue diamond-beaded sandals were just so pretty, that she couldn't help but customize them with a few razor blades on the heels. It had been such a lovely morning, she didn't want to spoil it with hurting herself—as they had killed so many of the guards with them just a little while ago. As she kicked, it could be seen that her left shoe was red while the right was blue, perfect to match her outfit that morning.

As her goons made the final touches for the explosives, Harley sat up and comically placed her fingers into her ears. Only as the handle lowered, Harley pouted when nothing happened.

"What the hell!?" she exclaimed, jumping down from the desk. Her goons began arguing with each other. She retrieved a random pistol from the floor and released the safety, shooting a few rounds into the ceiling. With hands on her hips, she bent forward slightly as she held a finger up to scold. "Which one of you idiots forgot the gunpowder?"

Before the dozen of them could come up with some kind of reply to save their lives, there was a bang from behind them, followed by a series of gunshots.

Hey, wait a minute—that wasn't the plan!

"Vinny!" Harley suddenly shouted.

"Yeah boss?" grunted the largest of the body-builders. He was the one holding the detonation box and a walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

She snatched the walkie from him without another look, and shouted into it. "Freddy! I thought I told you to stay in the van with the puppies!"

Muscle yes, brains no—this hadn't been the first time they disobeyed an order.

There was static from the other side before a pause. "I am in the van, Ms. Quinn," came the sound of a distressed Freddy from the other side. From the engine and yips in the background, she could tell he was telling the truth.

"Then who the hell is—?"

With a few more gunshots, Harley practically fumed when she suddenly heard the alarms going off.

Damnit!

This was supposed to be covert!

If Freddy was still in the van, and the others were with her—all seven of them, right? One, two, twelve—who the hell was shooting the place up?

"Freddy! Change of plans! Bring in Momma's babies inside the back!" Throwing the walkie to the ground with a snap, it shattered before Freddy could reply. Harley stomped her foot in disgust. "Shorty!" she commanded, holding out her hand. "My baseball bat!"

Shorty appeared; a little smaller than the others, but he was holding a majority of Harley's own weapons. He detached the colored baseball bat from his back and placed it in her hand. As she stormed off out the vault door, Shorty made sure to collect all of her other weapons she discarded onto the floor.

Harley stopped when none of the other ones followed her. "You coming or what?" she asked innocently.

The men dropped the explosives and gathered all their weapons from the ground as they followed her.

Exiting the glowing lights from the vault, they passed through the small trail of bodies that they had left behind while getting to their target. Instead of heading out the door in which they came, Harley headed straight for the front of the large executive bank.

As they passed through the doors and into the main lobby, she couldn't help but notice that very few people—there were a lot, since there was all that screaming—noticed that they had arrived.

A gorgeous half-naked blonde and twelve blulking men in masks walked in the room, and they got no attention?

What the hell?!

This was nine o'clock in the morning—where was everybody?

Heading over to the balcony to overlook the doors, she finally noticed what it was that was causing all the commotion. Over a dozen more men, all in various and childish costumes—not the nice uniforms she adorned her own men with—were all holding machine guns and had them trained on what was left of the helpless citizens in the bank. They had scurried them into the corner like the rats they were.

"Monty?" Harley asked curiously. If anyone would know it was him; he was the smartest of their little group.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Do they work for us?"

Harley held out her hand to Shorty, who promptly dropped her favorite hand gun into her palm, which she exchanged for her baseball bat. So much for using her favorite weapon.

"No."

Without another glance, she cocked her gun.

"Good, then—we can kill them."

Now … who was giving these guys their orders?

Harley noticed a flash of color and several of the badly uniformed goons crowded around a single figure as he stepped over the guards' bodies lying all over the floor.

That must have been him.

Who was this fool? Didn't he know that she was robbing this bank first?

Waiting for silence to take over, Harley instructed half her goons to encircle the balcony from above as Monty, Shorty and she snuck down the stairs. Although she kept her head down to stay out of sight, she didn't instruct the others to do so. They didn't do subtle anyway. She giggled silently with anticipation. She couldn't wait for the blood to start flowing again.

She analyzed the ragged looking troup; they weren't even taking jewelry or wallets. What kind of professionals were they? They weren't even going behind the counter for money. It looked like most of them had gathered in one of the offices off to the side. What the hell did they want in there?

Removing the leather jacket from her shoulders, to reveal Harley made sure to adjust her red and blue bows on her pigtails.

She found a shiny glass wall to look over her makeup.

Red and blue eyes, check.

Bright red lips, check.

Heart tattoo under her eye, check.

She had to look her best to for her entrance—she may get a new playmate.

Just then, she saw Freddy emerge from the back doors with her two babies on leashes. The two albino hyenas supported pink and blue dyed manes, respectively. Their muzzles were adorned with diamonds and their names engraved into the gold; Punch and Judy. The two animals perked up when they saw their Mama.

Taking the leads from Freddy, Harley gave Shorty her bat while she unhooked her babies' muzzles. They couldn't play this way. With their mouths free, they couldn't help but start chuckling like their mistress.

With a snap of her fingers, the animals jumped up onto the counter before Harley. She let Shorty hold her jacket as Monty pushed her up onto the counter in front of the large mass of people cowering for their lives in the corner. Clacking her heels on the glass marble, she took a dramatic turn and raised her gun to the air and let off all the rounds into the ceiling. Punch and Judy simply wagged their tails as they eagerly anticipated their next meal.

There was screaming and terror coming from the crowd as the large chandelier in the center of the room crashed down. The badly dressed goons pointed their guns in her direction as she cocked her head to the side. While Shorty refilled her gun, she waved at them with a charming smile.

"Hi boys!" she greeted. Once she took back her gun and cocked it, she pointed it towards them. Her babies added to the tension with their giggles. "Which one of you assholes is in charge here?"

For a moment there was a pause. Harley couldn't discern reactions since all of these goons were completely masked; unlike the half masks on her men.

What the hell were they all staring at?

Harley suddenly realized they were looking behind her. Turning around swiftly, she made sure to keep her babies on the goons as she did so.

Their leader had just emerged from one of the offices towards the back, standing in front of another small group of goons.

Despite the fact that he wore such a startling shade of deep purple, the pinstripe suit that he was wearing was rather normal. There were only a few alterations that made it look odd. The long coat that matched the suit was expertly tailored, the silk black shirt underneath opened almost all the way down his front, revealing the starkness of his white skin and all the tattoos adorning his skin.

Bright, almost neon green hair was slicked back carefully with no hair out of place. More tattoos were scattered all over his face that was even more accentuated by the bright red lipstick adorning his face. Heavy gold chains decorated his neck, and diamonds were in his ears. A completely jewel amethyst cane was held in front of him in both of his ringed hands. Highly polished bright purple Italian leather shoes were on his feet.

His darkened and hollowed eyes were staring at her with an empty glare.

Images flashed in front of Harley's eyes as her brain registered who the man was in front of her. A profiled picture and a number formed in front of her for a split second before disappearing. She knew exactly who this person was; he was the clown king of Gotham himself.

The Joker.

A criminal that was so mysterious that not a single person knew his real name.

Harley had seen him many times before; the amount of times was countless. In her past life, it was a common occurance. However, this was the closest she had ever come to him, the first time that she was going to speak directly to him.

The king of all insanity right before her.

He had such an intimidating presence, something Harley could never deny. Just his mere presence in standing there was enough to darken the atmosphere in the room. The mad energy seemed to radiate from his body.

Inwardly, Harley was bursting with excitement.

Finally, a challenge!

She restrained her shiver in anticipation—she couldn't wait to bash his face in!

Although all these things raced through her mind, it took barely a nanosecond before Harley reacted.

She knew exactly what she was going to do; she had anticipated coming in contact with someone this big for months now. And her chance had finally come.

Harley pulled onto her face the most playfully innocent smile she could muster, all while taking one of the most sensual poses she had developed. "Hi there!" she beamed. Her expression darkened only slightly as she cocked her head to the side. "You must be Mistah Jay!"

She saw his eyes darken at her nickname.

Harley smiled inwardly.

Good.

With a snap of her fingers, the rest of her men she had circling the balcony above appeared and focused their guns on the armed goons. They reacted with hesitation accordingly.

Perfect.

But as they were backing down, Harley suddenly heard Judy snarling beside her. A goon was obviously getting too bold. Without looking away from the clown king Harley promptly raised her large pistol and shot the goon straight in between the eyes.

Only after she had fired did she turn to glare at the goon. "I was talking!" she shouted as the corpse fell over.

The goon fell over with a thud, and the purple-suited gang leader's expression suddenly turned. Gone was the menacing scowl that he used to bore into her flesh, and it was replaced with something Harley could not pinpoint exactly. Something appeared in his eyes, and Harley had the slight nagging feeling in the back of her mind that this may not have been the wisest of her ideas.

If she had to guess, she would say his mood was a mix of amused and impressed.

At least, that is what she wanted.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind was pushed completely out of her brain as she inhaled the scent of gunpowder and blood, the sensation rushing throughout her body. Her annoyance resurfaced.

She was robbing this bank first—she had gotten there and was already in the vault when these fools had to go and ruin things!

That was not how things worked!

She was not going to take this shit from anyone!

And it was about time they knew this.

The Joker tilted his head to the side. "This is what happens when you don't schedule an appointment, boys," he drawled over his shoulder to his own men. He turned back to Harley and a smile crept up onto his mouth, lips parting to reveal his sliver smile.

As silver as his tongue.

His voice was like silk against velvet, so smooth that it could probably soothe just about anyone into a stupor if it wasn't for the fact that behind that voice was the primal and horribly terrifying tone of one of the most notorious sociopaths to ever walk the planet.

Harley knew she had to tread lightly with him, but then again, she was no push over either.

"Well, sweetheart," the clown drawled, taking a few steps closer to her. She could feel his intense gaze on her form, and made absolutely no reaction despite how much she felt her insides curl around. She didn't know if it was fear, but she knew it was a foreign sensation. Joker lived up to his reputation. Standing right beneath her, he cocked his head to the side. "You know my name, but I don't seem to know yours."

If there was one thing she knew about this sociopath, she knew that he couldn't stand it when people stood up to him. Harley knelt down on the counter to come closer to his eye level. As she did, she took his face into full view to evaluate it.

To be perfectly honest, he was not the scariest looking person she had ever seen. Sure the lack of eyebrows against the paleness of his white skin was a little unsettling, but this did not make him scary. As she took in his face, she could see the contours and definitions of his face; his face was even and his jaw cut. Not even the darkness around his eyes or smeared red lipstick made him terrifying either.

It was the mere soul that laid behind those startling blue eyes.

The soul of a man who was mad ... and who liked it.

With her face only a few feet in front of him, Harley cocked her head to the side. "Maybe I don't wanna tell you mine," she muttered in a babied tone, pouting.

His tone immediately darkened; he didn't like that answer.

Good.

She noticed how brightly blue his eyes were as he wracked them over her form wickedly before looking back up to her own eyes. His jaw flexed as he gave her a scowl, restraining the snarl on his lips. "You trying to steal my schtick?"

It was obvious that he was referring to the paleness of her crisp white skin. His own complexion was a little paler than her own, but then again he had some chemical enhancement.

She was au naturale.

Harley giggled before batting her eyelashes. "Of course not, Puddin'," she teased as she adjusted herself into a sitting position on the counter. As she registered her newest nickname for him, Harley made sure to cross her legs prominently. She curled her finger towards herself, summoning Shorty to her side. Harley absently played with the bells adorning his tri-pointed mask as she took her baseball bat back.

She then looked Joker in the eye again. "You're a clown—I'm a jester."

With a snap, she sent Shorty away and heard the pounding feet of her babies. They jumped up on the counter beside her, cackling as they paced the span of counter they had kept for themselves.

"So, no name then?" Joker prodded. He didn't even flinch as the two wild animals paced the room.

Rolling her eyes, Harley snarled briefly, taking on the annoyed tone.

She was tired of playing cute.

Holding firm on the edge of the marble, she lunged forward in a jerky motion to place her face inches from her own. "Call me Miss Robbing-The-Bank-First," she growled at him.

Within the next second, Harley snapped backwards again, but this time didn't stop as she pulled her feet up and jumped back up, making sure to accentuate all her derrier prominently as she stood. If it was one thing that henchmen liked distracting them, it was a nice ass.

Boldly taking a stance, she raised her arms up behind her head, running her fingers through her dyed pigtails. "And unlike you, my this happens to be my natural color," she annouced proudly, holding her arms out as she showed off her body.

She made a sharp turn to the right as she walked away, the razorblades on her heels clicking with each step. "I don't care if you are the "king of Gotham"," she started, accentuating her words by making quotations with her fingers. She then placed her hands on her hips, facing him. "This is just plain rude."

As she whipped around, Harley paused.

He was no longer looking at her in the face, and his darkened expression had gained a twinge of merriment. Harley couldn't help but notice the ever so small grin on the edges of his roughly-painted red lips, as his eyes bored into her figure. Starting from her feet, his eyes traced every one of her curves, resting on her behind and chest before tracing her neck.

And then, his eyes went directly back to the bright blue, shiny pair of tiny shorts revealing more of her hieny then covering it.

Her brown wrinkled.

What the hell was he looking at?

This was the Joker, the epitomy of all things insane and deadly. And never once in his career had he ever made any inclination for appreciating anything … physical. Actually, if Harley recalled correctly, she knew several individuals that would die to claim that this infamous clown was either inclined towards the same gender, or he simply didn't care about the idea whatsoever. She had been in the latter party, even if she never brought that theory to words.

As she stare at him in front of her for a few seconds blinking in confusion, trying to figure out if the Joker was actually staring at her body or not, a thought hit her.

Wait a minute—if he was looking, then had he even heard a damned word she just said?

"Oi!" she snapped, she shaking her gun in his direction. "My eyes are up here," she snapped, using her two fingers to point at them.

He smiled evilly once again and stared her in the eyes again. "So they are," he breathed gutturally.

Harley felt her eyes widen intensely.

What just happened?

Almost as swiftly as she had done, before Harley could fathom it, the clown handed over his cane to one of his goons and jumped up on the counter himself. Marching right up to her, Harley was thrust back into the present. As her babies growled at him and blocked his way, she took on a defensive stance.

However, the Joker simply kicked the two hyena out of the way. As Punch and Judy fell onto the floor whimpering, Harley made sure to be sure they were both undamaged before she felt her eyes glaze over.

Red and blue appeared before her eyes.

That was it!

Harley had done it before she even had the rationale to stop herself. She felt her knuckles come in contact with bone, and suddenly the colors in her vision seeped away. As her fist pulled back from his jaw, the Joker had only turned his head ever so briefly to the side.

"Do you have any idea how rare albino hyena are!?" she screamed, chest heaving in fury.

Harley was seething.

How dare he?!

Those were her babies!

It was becoming even more obvious of her growing rage as she used the momentum of her punch to raise her other hand in order to smack him this time.

But his hands were quicker. It didn't take him any effort to clutched ahold of her small wrist in his large cool hands, a vice grip that was needlessly going to leave bruises.

His head had still been turned away, but as he gripped her he slowly turned it back to face her again. A small amount of blood dripping from his lips, a sinking feeling stabbed at Harley's stomach as she saw the preditorial hunger in his eyes.

Uh oh.

She had done more than rattle his cage.

If he had eyebrows, the Joker would have raised them with the expression of a grin on his face. "You know, that kinda hurt," he growled.

She should have seen the next thing coming. She should have braced herself. However, stupidly Harley ignored all those voices in the back of her mind.

What did they know anyway?

The sting of his palm against her own face was harsh. She tasted the iron as the liquid ran from her lips as her head was jerked to the side. Her body flung to the ground, and she landed on the hard floor with a thud.

Wow.

That did hurt.

All was silent for a few seconds as Harley simply laid there on the floor, slumped over as her hair fell loose from the bows. She felt her body begin to shake violently as she allowed the laughter to overcome her body.

Harley felt her vision blur over. It was coming, the colors and the lights that blinded her. Harlequin was taking over again. And instead of restraining it like she'd always done, this time she embraced it.

She stayed firmly planted on the ground as she picked her head up from the ground turned her gaze to the clown who was towering above her, making sure he saw the derranged look on her face. She couldn't see his face her vision was so blurry, but she knew he was looking at her.

"Oh, Puddin'," she egged quietly. "It is … on!"

With one swift whistle, she unleashed her babies onto the goons. The only thing from them was growling and snarling as they started ripping one apart.

Without so much of a warning, Harley felt the trigger of her gun come closer to her hand as she flipped up onto her feet in one swift movement. Unloading all of her bullets entire thing into the first thing she found, she threw it after it was empty. Using her shoes to shread the neck of her next victim as she backflipped out of all the bullets that came rushing towards her, she ripped the clunky things from her feet as she threw them to the next goon.

The blood was pouring out of his neck as the points imbedded into his throat and eyes.

What a waste of a perfectly new pair of shoes.

Oh well, what was next?

Harley's mind suddenly began to clear of everything that wasn't associated with killing. The red and blue that formed over her eyes made everything foggy. The only thing that filled her ears were the shrieks and cries of each of her victims as they fell to the ground.

Harley didn't hold back her laughter as she continued with her work. Such beautifully horrible cries.

She wanted blood, she needed death.

Her body serged with anticipation.

Gunfire went off in every direction as she began taking down Joker's goons one by one. Dodging each one with ease, she saw all the cowering people in the corner begin to run in every which way. She didn't let them get in her way, taking down whoever came into her line of sight. Flipping and cartwheeling her way around the room, she pulled the men down to the ground. When their skulls didn't crack open on the marble floors, she made sure to either rip their throats appart with her switch blade, or snap their necks between her fishnet-lined thighs.

As soon as she was done with the one, she moved onto the next. It was a matter of minutes as one body fell after another, and the screams and shouting increased.

One of the goons became cornered by her, her babies already knawing at him as she stalked towards him with her bat in hand. However just as soon as she raised it above her head, she felt it shot out of her hands.

She snapped her gaze towards the origin of the bullet. It came from the man in purple himself, kneeling down on the very counter she had just left. Eyes wild and blazing, she lunged for the first gun she could find before she cocked it in his direction.

"Don't mess with me, Mistah Jay," she cackled at him, voice and face unrestrained. She did not even care that her "Harlequin" had been unleashed upon him.

She never showed this to anyone, always kept her cool.

But things had just gone too far this time!

No one kicked her babies!

"I'm rather vexing when I'm angry!" she shouted at him.

In the next second, she saw him move his hand and what was left of Joker's goons retreated towards the back door, hovering behind him. Harley looked around her, noticing that the only thing around her were all the corpses that she had taken the liberty of making.

Wait a minute—why was she alone?

"Monty!"

When there was no response, Harley wracked her eyes around the room to search for them. Well, they were … actually all still alive. At least she wasn't going to have to get more. But wait, why were they all on their knees … oh.

Joker's goons had restrained all of them, holding guns to their heads should they move.

In other words, the only thing Harley had left in her arena were her babies.

She looked over to where they had been devouring the last goon, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Ears picking up their restrained whimpers, she finally found them. They were off to the side with more of Joker's goons, only their muzzles and leashes were back on.

When the hell did that happen?!

Although Punch and Judy struggled mercilessly, Joker clapped his hands and his goons raised guns to their heads.

She glared at Joker, he glared back at her. "Tell them to back down," he demanded of her, closing in on her figure. At his proximity, she could feel the aura seeping into her skin. "Now."

Harley looked from her babies to her goons. They were all hard to replace and/or train. The color seeped out of her eyes and she felt herself calm. Harlequin was gone for now, but she'd be back. Harley snapped her fingers, and the pair of hyenas stopped snarling, sitting down obediently.

Joker smiled, turning back to her. "Now if only humans were so complying," he drawled as he came up closer to her.

He completely disregarded the weapon in her hand as he grabbed ahold of her wrist once again. The gun fell from her grasp at how hard he gripped her, and Harley raised her hand to slap him again. This time, after she drew her hand back from his face, he was smiling.

"Come on, baby," he egged her breathily, pulling her closer to him. "Do it again! Do it again!"

Harley pulled her hand back in a pause as she froze. A chill from her neck made her freeze.

He was … liking this?

What the hell?!

Every single instinct in Harley's body told her that she needed to get away that instant. She didn't know why, or try to reason as to why her body told her this, but she knew her own mind enough. When it reacted this violently, there was something wrong.

She needed to get away—now!

So that was the very next thing she tried to do; pull away. Using all the strength that remained in her body, she fueled her legs as she started running from his grasp. However, before she could take the second step, pain radiated from her shoulder as her body jerked in the opposite direction. She let out a hoarse cry of pain as she felt her body accellerate backwards … directly into his waiting embrace.

"Let go of me, clown!" she shouted, attempting to step on his feet.

As soon as her body came in contact with his, she felt the hardness of the rippling muscles of his chest and shoulders overcoming her, using his mere size to restrain her tinier form. Strong, unmoveable arms snaked around her front to tear into her upper arms, both hugging her and halting her as she squirmed and protested.

She wasn't going to go quietly.

"Oh, come on kitten," he breathed in her ear. "Be gentle with Daddy—he only wants to play."

The two of them danced in their embrace horribly, as Harley did her best to use her own strength against him to push him onto his back. He was unmovable, but that did not mean he she ceased her efforts. She pushed and pulled and jerked to both sides, numerous curses and screams escaping from her mouth as she was met with each of her efforts with an even stronger defense from him.

They pushed off walls and over furniture, crashes and banging echoing the large lobby. Glass shattered as they broke through a good number of walls.

Using his own strength and height to his advantage, Harley finally felt the air forced out of her lungs as she was pushed head first forward. She felt her jaw crack as he pushed her head down into one of the hard wooden desks, pulling her arm behind her in a painful contorted way.

Harley carefully analyzed where they were, despite not being able to move her head. Once she could see again, she saw where she was. Somehow, though she didn't know how, Joker had managed to drag her from the main room to one of the many offices. Well, they had broken through a good number of walls.

Despite only glass separating the spaces, it was fogged glass.

They were alone.

Damnit!

He had probably wanted her to himself as he finished "playing" with her.

Cheek firmly against the wood, she felt the hot trickling of his breath against her neck and ear. His entire form was pressing on top of her own, and he used his bigger form to restrain her. But Harley didn't stop squirming or attempting to elbow him in the gut. There was no way she was going to let him kill her. Not now, not when she had come so far.

"Sh," he whispered softly in her ear, grip tightening around her waist and shoulders. "Sh, sh, sh, precious." She could feel his lips grazing her skin, making a shiver run down her spine. Something twisted in her core, but this time, it was in a lower region than her gut. Part of her wanted to question it, but she was too focused on his next words. "This will only hurt a little."

He then did something that made her freeze.

Twisting his grasp around on her arm, he used his free hand to delicately trace up the contours of her waistline, his cool fingers creating goosebumps on her skin where they trailed. He did it so quickly that Harley hadn't the time to even think about it before she could react. His powerful grip slid almost too delicately underneath her bra to raise the fabric up and reveal the mass of skin behind it. He took a hold of her bare breast and squeezed it sensually between his fingers.

Harley's breath caught in her throat.

Oh … no.

This was not good.

Not good at all.

Every single fiber in her being tensed up completely when her brain figured out what he was doing.

He was … what!? Harley's mind couldn't even fathom the words.

Harley was almost certain that she had stopped breathing as she realized her pulse was pounding in her head. Heat radiated out of each one of those cold fingers, leaving behind a trail of fire over her skin. Massaging both painfully and pleasingly, his fingers finally found his prize; the sensitive bud on the end.

Once he held it between two fingers, Harley felt a jolt run throughout her body, and she most obviously river-bated against the man holding her down.

What was happening?

This was not the plan—this was not supposed to happen!

The Joker was not supposed to be this way!

And she most definitely was not supposed to be liking it either. She didn't like this, she hated it! Then … why didn't her body know that?

A heat pooled in her core, the flamed being encouraged by the steady panting on her skin and into ear. He pinched the nipple in his hands as he smiled, only releasing it as soon as it was taught and erect without his assistance.

Harley felt herself struggling to breathe. She attempted to force air out of her throat, but nothing came out. Her entire body was so shocked at the attentions, that it didn't know how to react. The pleasure erupting from her core slowly moved to her other extremities. She felt her most sensitive region clenching … anticipation?

She was enjoying this?!

How was this even possible?!

Before she had another rational thought, she felt her body be lifted up from the wood, only to be thrown down once more onto her back this time. Her head hit the surface with a thud, pain radiating from her skull as her vision darkened for a split second.

"See?" she heard being growled into her ear. The velvety voice only made her body shake; with fear or pleasure, she didn't know. "Just wanna play …"

Harley's eyes widened as she felt his hands tightening around her hips, forcing her legs to part and his own torso between them. The hardness of his chest pressed down on her own, the mere weight of his body completely on her own enough to disable her. His hands came up to encircle her throat tightly.

It was then that she remembered something she shouldn't have forgotten. At any moment he wished, he could kill her within seconds.

She could barely see, her mind was so foggy from the shock. What was happening? Why was this happening? Was the Joker really going to have his way with her before he killed her? Was she really just going to let him do it? Was there anything she could do?

"You know," she heard him rasp into her ear, his face buried in her shoulder. "You killed … a lot of my men."

Her lips parted, Harley mustered up all the energy she could to push the air from her lungs. "It's part of my charm," she sneered at him, staring straight up at the ceiling.

"Yes it is," he soothed, his thumb gently trailing the contours of her face. She heard him chuckling, the sound creating a hollow feeling inside her. "And you are … very charming."

Harley didn't know if that was his idea of a compliment, but somehow she did not feel very happy about it.

As he held her face steady, she saw it happening before she could move to stop it.

His painted red lips descended upon hers almost as harshly as his slap had upon her face. He was not gentle, not patient. He ripped into her mouth, hungrily devouring her lips. Pulling, nipping and teasing, she felt him mercilessly lay into her all the darkness he could muster. Biting her lips and cheeks, she became wildy aware of his hot moist tongue search almost every crevice of her mouth. He was setting her skin ablaze, every part of her was radiating with fire. She couldn't restrain her toes from curling up from how tightly she had been wound.

He pulled away almost as harshly and urgently as he had descended.

Once his face was farther away, she saw his head hovering above her own. Eyes still blurry, she could do nothing but lay there was a horribly overwhelmed deflated expression. He had taken a lot out of her. This was one aspect of a villain that she had never dreamed she'd have to deal with.

What was happening to her?

She lay unmoving for several moments. Harley almost thought she heard voices, but couldn't tell if they were coming from inside or outside of her head. Then, she felt his breath in her ear again.

"You know, dollface, there seems to be a change of plans. I was just gonna play with you—but it seems I've changed my mind."

Harley blinked.

What?

What did that mean?

Was he going to let her go?

He disappeared from her line of vision for a split second before she felt herself being hoisted up. Once she was completely flipped around, world no longer upside down, she realized that not only was she looking at the back of the Joker's pinstriped coat, but her body had been draped over his shoulder.

He settled her nicely on his shoulder before heading for the door.

As he walked through the masses of bodies laying around the room, Harley finally blinked out of it and pushed herself up in an attempt to pick her head up, but his grip around her waist and legs was firm. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?!" she screamed.

"I am taking you home with me, sweetheart," he chuckled boldly, his infamous laughter riveting off the walls as he took command of his men again.

Eyes widening, Harley could only picture the sheer multitude of things that the clown would do to her once she was in his lair. Searching around the room, she found her men more or less cowering in the corner with her babies on their leashes. For a minute they looked like they were going to do something about her current state; she was being abducted. No boss meant no salary.

However, Harley knew her boys were tremendously outnumbered.

"Monty, Shorty!" she screamed as Joker proceeded to exit the way he came in; the front door. Her eyes finally found the only two of her men she could remember at that moment. "Get the babies home! Wait for me there—!"

She didn't get to finish, being cut off as they left the building. Hopefully they would get the message and follow her orders. They were headed towards the numerous large black vehicles that were parked directly on the sidewalk in front of the building. Hearing sirens in the distance, Harley realized that the Joker's effort to leave the scene was motive for her capture.

But why couldn't he have just killed her and gotten it over with?

Instead of taking her over to one of the vans, where Joker's remaining men were hastily filling, she was taken over to the most ostentatiously purple Lamborghini she had ever seen. She was hastily forced into the trunk, her head hitting the bright interior as she did so. As she screamed and struggled in protest, she felt some kind of vapor spray into her face and suddenly an overwhelming sleepiness came over her.

Shit! No, no, no!

Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep!

You'll never make it out alive if you do!

But despite her struggling, Harley soon felt limbs go limp as the world darkened around her, vision slowly being masked over with black. She saw the lid of the trunk lowering as she caught a glimpse of the king of crime for the last time.

"Sleep well," he whispered to her smoothly.

Soon her limbs and eyelids grew too heavy to fight back any more, and Harley could do nothing but let the darkness consume her.

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(Author's Note: For all of you reading this for the first time, let me thank you for taking the time out of your lives to read my humble work. I really am quite flattered. Writing like this is merely a way I deal with stress, and it makes me feel so much better knowing that there are others out there who appreciate it.

I fell in love with this couple almost immediately, so I couldn't wait to run home from the theater to start this. I hope to update as soon as possible, however I do wish to maintain my standards, so updates are not always going to be on the same days each week.

I will give one note before you head on. I am using as many inspirations for this piece as possible; although it is set in the Suicide Squad world, you may find jabs from all different kinds of "Batman" media. Seeing as there are as many incarnations of Batman as there are people in the world, I thought it would just be so much more fun to put my own spin on things.

Once again, thank you all very much. I ask that you give me a review, because to writers, reviews are better than chocolate. If you just give me one word in it I will be happy, and even if you despise this piece, I would like to know; I welcome all creative criticism. Your comments keep me going and give me inspiration.)

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