'Dirty Laundry' by Bitter:Sweet

You can take a look at my Deviant Art page for a drawing of Harley's suit. The link can be followed from my profile.

Harley's delicate fingertips tapped the keyboard of her shiny, new, purple laptop vigorously as she chewed on her bottom lip and squinted at the screen. She was seated in the passenger seat of the Cadillac, parked outside a busy Starbucks, Joey sipping hot coffee in the seat next to her. They would have their own internet soon enough, but for now, she would have to use other sources.

"Ok, tell him to give it a try", she told the henchman.

He picked up the small black walkie-talkie and pressed the button with his thumb, "Alright, Boss."

After a short pause The Joker beeped in on the other end, "IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!" he shouted, laughing maniacally.

Joey and Harley exchanged a smile and a high five, "Man, it'll be nice to have some lights and heat in that place", she said, closing her laptop, lifting her vanilla latte to her lips, and grabbing the walkie-talkie, "On our way back, Puddin', you want us to get you some coffee?"

"Yeah, get me one of those peppermint ones", he beeped.

"I don't think they're in season yet."

"Tell 'em it's for me, they'll make it in season", he joked and his girlfriend rolled her eyes.

"Let's just get him a hot chocolate or something", she mention to Joey as he put the car in gear.

It had been a month since Chino's death, and although she realized it was only a short period of time, Harley was beginning to think that this cut was one that would not heal with time; some wounds were just too deep. She had been able to find plenty of joy in her new life, however, and had to admit that she got an unexpected rush out of breaking the pathetic moral barriers of society. She climbed into the tinted back seat as Joey pulled into the long line for overpriced drive-thru coffee, and fiddled with the buttons on her suit vest as she stared out the window at the setting sun; signaling the start of a new day for them. Louis had made her an entire wardrobe based on the inspiration from her full name, Harley Quinn, which The Joker had told him one night over dinner at The Opera House,

"Like dee clown, wi? You got'cha self a little clown princess, eh, Buoy? She a good lookin' one, too. Say, dat give me an idea I tink da two o'you gonna like", he had said with a smile.

The suits were two toned, in respect to the harlequin clown, in the colors black and red. The slacks were a soft black fabric down one leg, red down the other, and opposed the colors on her suit vest which she wore over a white blouse with short ruffled sleeves for femininity. He had made her a couple of suit coats as well, but she only wore them when she felt chilly since she felt that they restricted her ability to move in full range at the shoulders. Louis had embroidered a trio of diamonds on the left hip of the pants and the top right of the vest, explaining that they indicated royalty; she was a princess after all. Harley was beginning to enjoy her new identity as well as the way in which her new boyfriend doted on her every wish. She had only asked for a single computer to use for hacking purposes, but had awoken in their comfortable cherry wood bed one evening to the sound of Joey and the other two boys, Sean and Cal, unloading box upon box of electronic appliances into the foyer. Since then, Harley had spent the last two weeks setting up a security system for them around The Opera House, and the final touch was finally getting some electricity up and running. She hacked into the mainframe grid of the Gotham Electric's computer database and had the power restored to their building, covering the footprints so that no one would know the difference. Someone would have to actually go out and check the meter to see that it was receiving power, and who would do that? They're humble hideout was now complete with electricity, which meant heat and air condition, running water, and a working kitchen. Some of the appliances would probably need to be replaced, but they could get to that later.

The Joker was waiting outside the back of the building as Joey pulled the car around into the parking garage, clad in one of his purple and green suits. He walked over and pulled open the door for Harley, "M'lady", he took her hand as she exited the car and put an arm around her shoulders, tugging one of her two low braided pigtails which she now wore her hair in, "How's my little genius?"

She offered him the hot cup in her hand, "We got you hot chocolate."

"Thanks, Precious Pie", he chirped, "What'd you get?"

"Vanilla Latte."

He lifted a semi-serious eyebrow, "Better be whole milk."

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, it is."

The depression from the death of her Father had sent Harley spirally back into an unhealthy pattern of sleepless nights and skipping meals. The Joker had given her a week to wallow in her sorrow before demanding that she start sleeping, eating, and trying to put on some weight again. It had been a heated topic that eventually lead to them losing their tempers with one another. They sat bickering over her small plate of food at the large oak table one evening; he insisting that she eat, and she insisting that she wasn't hungry. She got up to leave and he had finally had enough, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her around and face him as he pinched her cheeks between his long fingers, "How about I break your damn jaw, then you can suck your meals through a straw for the next month!" he had yelled. She brought her small fist into his stomach, and he staggered backward for a second before responding with the back of his hand across her right cheek. He had apologized later that night, and she agreed to eat a small amount before they retired to bed. Since then there hadn't been any other fights, and she had managed to put on three pounds in the last three weeks, which she considered a good amount in a short period of time. Her boyfriend, however, was adamant that she put on at least what she had lost in the last seven months; which may have been about twenty pounds. She grew increasingly irritated with his demands, but knew they were for her own good, whether she liked it or not.

The Joker opened the back stage door for her and she could see the lights of the theater bleeding in through the red curtain. She was excited to finally see what the inside looked like without the cover of darkness, and walked quickly to pull the curtain aside. A gasp escaped her lips as the beautiful golden room was revealed; the tall acoustic ceiling was an expertly carved wood that flourished over the entire rounded surface, and stood in timeless splendor behind the three golden crystal chandeliers that hung from it. Everything was perfect now, and with each passing day she regretted her decision for this life less and less.

Her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her waist as he came up behind her, "Good job, Baby. You really got this place up and runnin'."

"You would have figured it out", she smirked humbly.

He chuckled, "Chemistry, explosives, that I can do but all that hacking shit, forget it."

"Does that mean I'm hired?"

"Have you put in your two weeks notice with Dr. Arkham?" he joked.

"I'm pretty sure he got the point from the two bullets I fired at him."

"Two wasted bullets."

"Hey, I'm getting better! I've been working really hard", she pouted playfully.

"I know you have, I know, and you have gotten better; you actually hit the paper now."

She giggled and gently shoved her elbow into him as he kissed her neck. Yes, this new life was paradise, and the happiest she could ever remember being. This was where she belonged.

Her boyfriend released her waist and smacked her on the bottom as he passed by her, headed for the stairs, "And if all goes well, you'll get some knife practice later tonight, too."

She watched his back as he descended the stairs and started up the aisle to toward the foyer, "What do you mean, Puddin'?"

He opened the door and looked back at her with a wink, "It's a surprise."

A few hours later, Harley sat comfortably on her tall queen sized bed which was now situated against the wall, across from the old fireplace in the Cigar Lounge. They had decided against lighting actual fires in it since the smoke would attract unwanted attention, but a very realistic looking fiber optic log twinkled from inside and made the room feel relaxed and cozy. She had the green flannel sheets pulled up snuggly around her knees as she leaned back onto the cherry wood headboard and read through a stack of medical books that Joey had picked up for her. She wanted to review the emergency medicine information she had once learned in medical school in the inevitable case that someone may need a bullet removed, and cut stitched, or a broken leg reset. They had packed an entire area of the kitchen full with necessary medical equipment and first aid supplies, per her request, and one of the dressing rooms downstairs was set up as a designated 'hospital bed'. It was nice to finally be able to read by the light from the lamp that rested on her bedside table instead of by flashlight as she had been doing for weeks, and she hummed as she read, lifting her head to a clicking sound to her left. The Joker turned the knob to the door they had installed for privacy at the entrance to the Cigar Lounge and stepped inside, fresh makeup on his face, and walked over to his bedside table where his purple leather gloves rested. He picked them up and winked at her as he began pulling them over his fingers.

"Are you going out on a job?" she asked in a half-whine.

"Gotta see a man about a dog", he replied.

She closed her book, "But Puddin' you promised!"

He chuckled in his throat, "Maybe you can come on the next one, Princess, this one's for Big Boys only."

He walked around to her side of the bed and softly pinched one of her cheeks before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. Harley crossed her arms and pursed her lips, pouting as she watched the fake log change color. The Joker had still refused to allow her to accompany him on his 'jobs' even though she begged him to let her help. He insisted that she still required more training and would only either get in the way or get killed, and while his concern flattered her, it still made her feel useless sitting around The Opera House while he went out night after night. She glanced to her right at the far side of the room where the bar and piano still stood. The bar had now been turned into a make-shift chemical laboratory, and a messy desk rested in front of it covered in her boyfriend's chicken scratch equations. Her desk, which was twice as large, sat in front of the grand piano and faced the wall. Three computer monitors, a keyboard, and a mouse were all that rested on its clean surface. She wished he would give her a new assignment to work on so she could finally use them and feel that she was contributing in some way, but for now, all she could do was study her books. She huffed and picked up another one from the pile and began reading, wondering when he would be home.

['Black Black Heart' by David Usher (slow version)]

Harley parted her eyelids slowly. She had fallen asleep reading a book on infectious wounds, and had been awoken by the faint sounds of a woman's voice singing opera. She shook her head and tried to lift the sleepy haze, sure that she was hearing things that weren't there, but the vocals continued. Laying her book aside, she pulled the covers back and slid slowly off the bed, walking cautiously to the door and listening before turning the knob. The sound echoed slightly louder in the large foyer, and was bouncing in from the theater. Her heart pounded as she returned to her bedside table and opened the door to retrieve her gun. Holding it tightly at the ready in her hands, she walked through the foyer and slowly pulled open the door to the right aisle of the theater, peering inside as the music leaked out and filled the room. The theater was fully lit, and Harley was finally able to release the breath she had been holding when she noticed the back of her boyfriend's suited body standing in front of something in the middle of the stage.

She lowered the gun and swung the door open, stomping down the aisle, "You nearly gave me a damn heart attack", she scolded at him over the music that was blaring from a boom box at the edge of the stage.

Joey and Sean appeared from behind the curtain and gave her a respectful nod as she climbed the stairs onto the stage and turned the music down to a more tolerable volume. Her boyfriend still hadn't turned to look at her, and was fumbling over someone seated in a chair in front of him. She hurried over thinking perhaps it was Cal and he had been injured, but just as she approached, The Joker spun to face her spreading his arms in the air, "Tada!" he exclaimed, and stepped aside to reveal a bloody and frightened looking Simon, arms bound to the chair.

Harley stopped in her tracks and stared at him with wide eyes. The Joker gave her a satisfied grin and twirled around to stand behind his gift, smushing his cheeks between his hands and rocking his head side to side, "Surprise!"

"Get your hands off me you fucking Freak!" Simon yelled.

The butt of Harley's gun went flying into his nose before she had a chance to realize that she had even moved. Simon screamed in pain as the blood began pouring from it, and The Joke leapt back with a loud cackle and taunted him as he danced in place. After a moment, he stopped and grabbed a handful of Simon's hair, yanking his head aside to reveal the fresh scar that had been left on his neck.

"That's one good lookin' piece of work, Princess", he mentioned to Harley as she stood in a daze from her recent uncontrollable action.

She caught Simon's frighten stare, pleading at her, and her heart sank into her stomach. Her boyfriend released his head by throwing it forcefully forward, and he slowly lifted it to meet back with her eyes.

"Harleen…please", he begged, "I never told anyone about you and him, I swear. I was never going to, I was just…so…jealous."

She shifted nervously in her spot as she stood, unable to speak.

"I love you, Harleen", he continued, and The Joker laughed, "I do! I love you, and I always have. I just wanted you to love me back so bad, and when I found out you had feelings for…for him…I just couldn't take it. I went crazy or something, I'm so sorry, Harleen."

"No, you're not sorry yet, but you will be", The Joker insisted in a sinister tone as he flicked open a switch blade, "Here, Baby, make me proud", he handed the knife to Harley who just stared at it in her small hand, still holding the gun in the other.

"Harleen, please. Please don't do this", Simon continued to plead, staring wide eyed at the knife.

Harley stood with feet frozen in place as her boyfriend came up behind her and wrapped a large hand over hers, moving her like a puppet toward Simon's frightened face, "You can do it, Harley", he whispered on her neck and she shuddered as goosebumps spread over her flesh.

Her hand began to shake beneath his, "I…I…can't"

"Yes, you can."

"No…it's wrong…it's murder."

"You shut the fuck up!"

"Can't! Can't!"

"Give me the goddamn knife, I'll do it. Harleen, Honey, close your eyes, don't look."

"Can't do it! Can't!"

"I told you to shut up!"

"Oh my god…", Simon's voice caught her attention and she looked up at him to find that his frightened gaze had turned into a mouth agape look of sheer terror. Tears fell from her eyes as she began to hyperventilate, and The Joker let his arms slowly slip away from her. She felt nauseous and hunched over as the realization suddenly hit her at full force; the argument that had just occurred…

…had been spoken entirely through her own mouth.

['The End is Beginning is the End' by Smashing Pumpkins (slow version from Watchmen)]

She had suspected this for a long time, but it was a nightmare she would never fully allow herself to realize or internalize until now. She spun around to meet with The Joker's emotionless gaze, "How-How long? How long?", she sobbed.

He gave her a small grin, "As long as I've known you."

But Harleen already knew it stemmed from much further back than that. She had had unexplainable gaps in her memory since the night of her parents' deaths. The roof of the trailer house crumbled into the flicking flames as she watched from the street, but she couldn't remember lighting the fire, even though she somehow knew that it had been done by her; she just knew. Flashes of repressed memory would flood back to her when triggered by something, but she couldn't recall them voluntarily no matter how hard she tried. She reviewed patient charts night after endless night because she could never clearly remember what it was she had done with them earlier that very day; usually attributing it to lack of sleep. Sometimes a line or a word would click something in her, and she would remember a conversation or a testimony. She had always called the two voices in her head the two sides of her human conscience, the same ones that every person shared, but her educated brain had always known it was something else, though she would never admit it.

Dr. Quinzel was the moral compass who guided their ever vigilant efforts to restore sanity and discover an infallible cure for the sickness that was suffocating and destroying the world. She was the antithesis to the cruel and cold hearted beast who protected them; set the fires, bit the rapists, pulled the triggers. The Joker had been the one to finally give her a name and, until now, she had never had a reason to surface for longer than minutes at a time. Harleen was the innocent and naive young woman who, through all of her exhaustive efforts to be a good person, now relied on both of them for survival; and this realization brought the sickness up in her throat as she struggled to breathe, clinging to the arm of her boyfriend's coat.

"What did you do to her?" she heard Simon scream at him, "I knew it! I knew you screwed with her head, you Son-of-a-Bitch! You sick Freak!"

Harley snapped her head toward him and her sobbing ceased. Simon's eyes grew again in fear as she quickly approached him, knife and gun in hand, and straddled his lap in the chair, grabbing his face between her small fingers, "What the fuck did I tell you about calling him that?" she screamed in his face.

Simon blinked quickly at her and she felt The Joker's arms wrap around her, pulling her off of him, "Hey, hey, you only sit on me like that, got it?" he insisted.

"How does it feel, Clown?" Simon smirked, "How does it feel to know that I was inside her first?"

The Joker pushed Harley aside as he brought an angry foot under the guard's chin, sending him flying backward in his chair and landing loudly on the wooden floor of the stage. He leaped over him and began throwing punches into his jaw with both fists. Harley composed herself from her stumble and hurried to pull her boyfriend away, not exactly knowing why; he deserved every hit he received for a comment like that. She managed to bring The Joker back away from him, breathing heavily and sweat mingling in the colors on his face as he spat down at the bloody body, writhing in pain.

He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, but Harley wrapped her hands around his, "Puddin' wait, I have my gun."

He looked at her, and the fury in his face subsided slightly. She turned to retrieve it from the place it had slid to when she was knocked to the floor, cocking it as her boyfriend's face lit up with delight. She smiled at him and faced the bleeding Simon, aiming the gun between her hands as she had practiced for the last two weeks. Her finger wrapped around the trigger but her confidence suddenly faded as Dr. Quinzel screamed inside of her, causing her arms to shake.

The Joker stood closely behind her and she could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered to her, "It could be just us, Harley, just you and me. If you let it happen, let it go."

Her eyes rolled in their sockets as his scent filled her senses, and her finger tightened on the trigger again, almost pulling it as the unbearable screaming began again. Simon was looking at her now, staring at her with pleading eyes, begging for mercy as Dr. Arkham's had done. The Joker pressed his body closer against hers and placed his hands firmly on the front of her hips, making her swoon.

"Harley", he whispered into her ear, his lips touching her skin and sending tingles down her spine, "I love you."

The sound of the gun firing echoed through the acoustic room and the screaming was abruptly silenced, leaving behind only the sound of a woman's soprano vibrato dancing through the air.

One Year Later

The Joker sat across a round table from three men, one of which Harley recognized as her Father's killer, and it took every ounce of self control in her to remain standing in her place as her boyfriend had insisted she do. After they had all the information they needed she would be allowed to have her fun, until then, she had to stand next to him, shifting in place as the handle of her sledge hammer rested over one shoulder.

"What'chu got against Cobblepot anyhow, Clown? You ain't a gamblin' man, he don't owe you money or nothin', why the sudden interest?" the blonde thug in the middle asked.

The Joker clicked his teeth together, "What's it to you, Sparky?"

"I wanna make sure that this little spat o'yours don't somehow come back on me, that's what."

"I have a personal motive", he answered shortly.

The two other men were eyeing Harley's muscular body, and she shot them hatful glares through the black diamonds painted over each of her eyes. They lifted their eyebrows and smirked at her, clearly undisturbed by her unspoken threats. She reminded herself that they weren't the focus tonight, however, she had to keep an eye on her target; the blonde in the middle. He was leaning back in his chair, thinking about the financial offer than had been placed on the table in exchange for information about The Penguin's personal address and security set up. After a while he finally reached into his coat pocket, and Harley gripped the handled of her hammer tighter. He pulled out a while envelope and slid it over to The Joker who opened it and handed the contents to Harley. She scanned the document of information and smiled, handing it back to her boyfriend who stuck in inside his coat pocket.

The thug on the left gestured toward Harley, "So, what is she, like your bodyguard or somethin'?"

His friend laughed, "I'd let her guard my body."

The Joker's wrists flicked in front of him, and two shiny metallic objects shot from them, twirling swiftly through the air before imbedding themselves into each of the men's necks, sending blood spewing in all directions as they gargled and fell backward in their chairs. The blonde man stood quickly and tried to remove his gun from his coat, but Harley leapt forward with a roundhouse kick to the back of his head which forced his forehead to slam down onto the table before he collapsed to the floor next to his comrades. He glanced at the one to his right in fear, observing the razor sharp playing card that stuck out from his neck as he took his last breath. He looked up to see The Joker stepping up to him, and tried again to remove his gun, but he brought his expensive dress shoe down onto his hand, pinning it to his chest as his middle finger broke into. Harley appeared on his other side, dragging the sledge hammer screeching across the concrete floor. The two hovered over him and he stared up at them helplessly as The Joker reached across and grabbed Harley gently by the chin.

"Gentlemen, have ya met Harley?" he asked sarcastically.

She smiled sadistically down at her victim and whispered something in Spanish before swinging the handle of her weapon back and over her head. The last thing the man saw was her smiling face as the large metal end of the hammer grew larger in his vision; then there was blackness.

[End Credits: 'Don't Fear the Reaper' by Blue Oyster Cult]

This has been a ton of fun to write, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have! Thank you so much for reading, and be sure to stay tuned for the sequel, 'Mad Empire', coming soon!

-J