one: freedom

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"Let's go home."

Harley's heart pounded and leaped aggressively against the joker's hard chest.
He was alive.
Her puddin' was alive.
And he hadn't forgotten about her.
He'd come to save her again.

"But what about the security?" Harley whispers, unable to overcast the pure excitement hidden beneath her strong Brooklyn accent. "The expresso machine?"

The joker's cackle is faint, but fierce; and recognisable to Harley.
There were no questions with her Puddin'.
She has to do what she is told. The long eventless year in this metal cell had made her forget an ounce of loyalty; which she hadn't though was possible.
Harley had also forgotten what the sound of her puddin's sharp laughter did to her, and had to grip onto him more tightly in order to keep her two legs straightened.
She bites her lip as his breathing becomes
harsher.

"They're dead."

He assures her, flatly; bringing a single hand up to play with her bunched hair.
Harley sighs happily - like a playful kitten - and giggles against his soft touch.

Although the joker was not soft.
And she knew that.

As if according to Harley's second thoughts, the Joker drags her hair down towards him quickly, causing Harley to choke on a whimper.

"When I say go." The joker whispers carefully, his voice strained and angry.

Suddenly, the joker pushes Harley off him, turning his back quickly as she falls back against the metal bars surrounding them.
Redressing the mask on his helmet, he takes his gun and makes his way for the exit of the prison, leaving Harley dazed and confused.

"You didn't say go." Harley calls out, her voice imitating that of a spoilt child.

But of course he hadn't. She should have known better. She was his property, and she was meant to know these things naturally.

Anyway, technically he'd already said go. So why was she still here?
Harley immediately runs, stepping over her copy of "Between The Sheets",  as she heads towards the direction of the Joker, and her way out.

There was no time to think about consequences so she ran fast, ignoring the piercing screeches of the Arkham alarm.

"Puddin'!" Harley calls out, but it is no use. Whether he was ignoring her on purpose or not was beside the point,

she was getting out of Arkham. Finally. No strings attached. Or neck bombs.

It didn't matter where the joker would take her, or what her punishment could possibly be for getting caught in the first place, or what deadshot would think if he found out she'd betrayed the asylum because she was free; and this was enough to reintroduce that piercing grin in which so comfortably formed against her lips.

Free.

And she welcomes it; realising that she had missed this. She had missed the rush of playing the games of Gotham alongside the joker and the thrill in which it all brought her.

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Note: hi again!!! I am back with a new fanfiction! Due to  tiresome GCSES I found myself unable to complete my REYLO fanfic, although I will try my best to get back to that as soon as I can. What were your thoughts on Suicide squad?

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