Takin' ol Batsy out was never the hard part...well, that's not really true. Batman could pack a wallop of a punch unless you catch him off guard with the blunt end of the mallet. Which is what she did. So in this one instance, takin' ol' Batsy out wasn't the hard part.

The hard part was dragin' all 200+ pounds of muscle and grit into the Jokermobile and into the lair (an old warehouse this time...Gotham was running out of abandoned clown themed factories and fairgrounds.)

It would have been easier if her puddin' had offered to help but no...he was just trailing behind with a grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

Bless his heart.

"Just set him right there, Harley girl" He said dismissively, not even flinching at the loud thud or batting an eye at the heavy panting from his hench wench. "Good girl." Harley beamed at the slight pat on the head and watched as her beau tossed his jacket aside, not carrying where it landed. "Now..." He started again, bending over to leer at the unconscious Batman. "What to do with you..." Joker's smile faded when he looked up and saw Harley's hands moving towards the Dark Knight's cowl.

"LEAVE THE COWL ON!"

Harley froze, fingers dropping from ol' Batsy's face.
"Um, why puddin'? We rarely have him out cold like this, it'd be a good-"

"LEAVE IT!" He growled, before shifting his gaze to Batman once again and his face melted into a smile. It was almost...sweet, in a sick way. "I want to have the Batman tonight. Not whoever he is under there..."

"Have?" Harley asked, confused, but backing away. Knowing her place.

And her place was not between Batman and her Puddin'. After a fall from several stories and 11 broken bones she knew that now.

"Mmhm." He hummed, straddling the Batman's waist, staring into his cold dead eyes (or at least the slits where eyes should be. "Have. He's mine to have, after all...aren't you Batsy? Oh sure Harv and Eddie and Pam and even Harl might think they're entitled to a piece of you...but you and I know better. Your mine, and I'm yours. The order to my chaos. The triskets to my bean dip. Poetry, isn't it Harley?"

"Um...I guess so- what are you doin'?"

Harley squeaked as the Joker dropped his pants.

"Harley..."

His voice got very dark. And Harley Quinn got very scared.

"I want you to go the bed room and grab the camera. Grab one of your toys too if you want, I really don't give a shit. But then come back here. I want this on film..."

"W-want what on film..." Harley asked, although she had some ideas. She just hoped she was wrong...

Joker ignored her however, preoccupied with pulling Batman's tights down. Then laughing hysterically.

"Hee...heehee...! HAHAHA! Oh that's ADORABLE, Batsy! You wear your own logo on your briefs! Oh, too bad you won't be wearing them for much longer..."

Harley felt physically ill, watching her boyfriend so gently removing what she always considered their tormentors briefs. Especially considering he was never this gentle with her...

"Ooooh Batsy...!" Joker whistled, admiring what Harley was afraid to catch a peak of. "It's everything I've ever dreamed of."

Harley felt a twinge of hurt and jealousy.

Dreamed of?

Joker snapped his head to scowl at her. Crud, did she say that out loud?

"WHY are you still HERE! BEDROOM. CAMERA. NOW!"

Harley managed to dodge a few clothing items to the head before scampering off in near tears...but not to the bedroom. Just around the corner where she could still hear her boyfriend...to make sure this wasn't just some sick joke and he had yet to make the punchline.

"Batsy...do you think you would fight if you were still conscious? I hope so. It wouldn't be fun otherwise, right? Although it would be flattering if you didn't...hey...you wanna know a secret?" Joker giggled, shifting his body so he was now sitting on the Dark Knight's chest...lips to his pointy little ear. "I wouldn't fight. Sure, I'd punch you in your smug fucking face once you're finished but during? I'd seriously have to stop myself from begging you to- hehe...PHEW! I'm getting ahead of myself here..." The joker giggled, gesturing to his tent...before frowning. Which was not something the Joker did easily "If only you were awake...it'd be so much better for me if you put up even a bit of a struggle. Oh well. Maybe next time. I need a practice run before we have our official 'first time.'"

Harley had been on countless drugs, been to dozens of individual and group therapy sessions, and locked away from the rest of the world for months at a time just to try to shake this delusion that she and the Joker were in love and meant to be.

But this is what brought it all home.

Watching the man she loved...about to rape a man. The man who had beaten and broken him, thwarted his plans. The man her puddin' had tried to kill...wanted to and still wanted to murder! And...and the man he loved. She could see it. He loved him. Despite of it all, or maybe because of it. To the Joker, this was love. And Harley had wanted that. Had been jealous of Batman for that!

Hot, angry tears leaked out of the sides of her mask. She felt sick, and wanted to puke – as if it would remove all of these feelings of guilt, hurt, betrayal and anger from her tiny body. And in that moment, she made a decision – an impulsive decision that would surely change her life forever. She plucked the discarded and forgotten mallet off the floor, careful not to make a sound. As the Joker bellowed for her to "hurry the fuck up with that video camera" she gripped the handle tightly.

Batsy was sure going to owe her one later.