masochist : harley quinn

7

Weeks passed. I saw Mister J two day a week, but it was never enough. I always wanted to see him, he alway left me wanting more. I despised just how far I'd fallen for him. I promised myself I wouldn't the day I started with him. But that was a while ago now, and things had changed. Everything had changed, all because of a man. All because of him.

I was craving another Monday, Thursday; another day with him.
I busied myself with paperwork, cleaning up, grocery shopping. Normal stuff. No matter how hard I tried, nothing felt normal again. Not after a person like him. People like that rattle your bones, till you can't think straight until you're around them again. Everything felt mundane. Doing the things I used to love felt bland. I just wanted to be around him. His presence was like life support for me. I needed it to breathe.
I didn't care if it killed me.

I had gotten myself into a routine with Mister J - I'd be there on time, I'd try to pry some information out of him, anything to make some sort of diagnosis or verdict on him. There was a slew of labels surrounding him; all slapped onto him by outsiders, people that didn't really know him. I knew him. More than anyone had before. I knew the way he worked, the way he thought. I wasn't scared of him. I had worked my way through the fear and the judgment, and now I was left with a man. A sick, twisted man, but still a man.

I'd grown fond of calling him Mister J, and I lived for the moments he called me Harley. I liked the sound of it the more he said it.
It felt like a secret, something just between the two of us. I was his Harley and he was my Mister J.

"What do you even do in there? What does he say?" Arthur questioned as we walked side by side down the halls of Arkham.
"There's a lot I still don't know about him, but I think I'm getting to him. I'm starting to really get to know him." I tried my damn hardest to hide my smile. I couldn't afford someone finding out how far I'd fallen into Mister J. No one could know.

It was us against the world.

"You ready?" Arthur asked, code already punched in to the keyboard.
I nodded, trying my best to fake a grim expression.
He held the heavy door open for me and I stepped inside.

"Hey Mister J." I smiled at him from across the room.
"Hi, baby." He grinned back at me.
"How you feeling today?" I asked.
"Missing home." He pouted.
"Where's home?" I asked, one curious eyebrow raised as I took a seat on the edge of his bed frame.
"Penthouse downtown. It's nice. I'd like to show you one day." He leaned in closer to me. I felt a tiny bit of nervousness as he came closer, but I tried to ignore it. We hadn't been this close in a while. I missed the physical contact between us. I missed him.
"Is that a promise, Mister J?" I asked, my voice hazy.
"Of course." He grinned.
There was a moment of silence before his voice filled the room again.

"Harley, I need something from you." Mister J smiled coyly. I felt a flutter of nervousness in my chest, unsure of what he would ask of me.
"Anything," I regretted my choice of words as soon as I'd opened my mouth. "I mean - sure."
"I need a machine gun." His silver-grin request made my stomach drop.
"A-A machine gun?" I asked, fighting the shaking of my vocal chords.
He nodded with a smile. "Come on baby, it's not that much to ask. Just one little machine gun." He pouted.
"You're asking a little much, Mister J. I-I could lose my job." I mumbled.
He cackled wildly, the loud sound making me jump.
"Would it help if I said please?" He played sweet.
"I don't know. Maybe." I smiled playfully.
"Well don't expect me to beg!" He snapped, his silver teeth barred in a snarl.
"I-I'm sorry Mister J." I whispered, my bottom lip quivering. I wished I wasn't so weak around him.

"Harley," He spoke softly after a moment. He put his hand over mine, his cold fingers sending tingles up my arm. "Baby. I need that machine gun. If you loved me, you'd do it. Do it for me. For Mister J." He smiled with sinister eyes.
I knew already that I'd made a bad decision, but it was too late to turn back now.
"Okay," I gulped. "I'll do it."
"Oh, babe," his eyes rolled back in his hand as he tipped his head back, seemingly in pure bliss. "You're the greatest." His grin made my heart swell.
"I'll do it. By Monday. I'll do it, Mister J." I looked down while my cheeks burned.
"That's my girl." He grinned, trailing his fingers across my thigh gently.

I spent my weekend hunting down a gun. I didn't even know how to start, where to find one, or how to get it into Arkham Asylum, of all places.
After hours of chasing deals in back alleys, I finally had the gun. It sat, sleek and shiny, on my coffee table. I stared at my new table centrepiece for an hour, wondering what to do with it. I was almost too scared to touch it. But I decided I needed to leave my mark. For Mister J. Something to remember me by. So, making sure that it was completely empty of bullets or anything that could come close to hurting me, I carved an inscription near the trigger with a kitchen knife.
For Mister J. - H
I carved a tiny heart next to the 'H' and put the gun and the knife away before I got fussy and ruined my engraving.

Every time I glanced at the gun, propped up against the wall near the bedroom door, I couldn't help but think of how delighted Mister J would be when I gave him the gun. I wanted to prove myself to him. I wanted to show that I was genuine, real. Just like him.