Smooth Criminals: Harley x Joker Origin Story

Chapter 4: The Joker and his Harlequin

The tumult from ACE faded into the distance. I stayed half a step behind Jay as we ran, letting him lead.

We kept running until my lungs were ready to burst and I wanted to vomit.

After a series of alleys and dark side-streets, we paused, listening for sirens or footsteps. Nothing. We turned on a final sprint to Jay's apartment.

We stumbled inside and crumpled on the living room floor, coughing and wheezing too hard to speak.

For a long time, we sat there, catching our breaths and wiping sweat from our faces. The only light came from the streetlamps outside.

"You all right, Mister Jay?"

My voice was so weak, I barely heard it.

"My skin," he said. "Look what it did to me."

We were both ghosts — hair, skin, even eyebrows. The most colourful thing about Jay was his eyes, which were, blissfully, still green.

I crawled closer. "It's okay, puddin'. We can fix this."

"We can't! You think this is like a suntan that'll fade in a few weeks?"

"No, but—"

He shoved me away.

But we had survived. We were together. We'd gotten the weapons like Jay had wanted. That was what mattered. I couldn't let this stumble ruin everything.

My purse sat by the entrance. I reached into it with trembling hands.

"Look. We need a little makeup, is all. All good criminals need a disguise, don't they?"

He narrowed his eyes, seeming to consider.

I swiped my lipstick on thick, then reached for my eyeliner. I tried my best without a mirror. I drew a black line over each eyelid from forehead to cheek.

"I'm a harlequin! Get it? Harley-quin."

He stared at me. After a long moment, he started laughing. I laughed with him.

"Harley Quinn," he said, reaching for my lipstick. "You think the world will run from a pair of clowns?"

I twirled my pistol. "They'll run."

Jay opened his hands and studied his white flesh. "A disguise..."

He rubbed his fingertips together. I wondered if he felt the same sting across his flesh as I did.

His eyes widened. He looked up at me, thin lips cracking into a grin.

"Harley, we don't have fingerprints."

I examined my fingers. The acid had peeled away layers of skin, leaving a fresh, unidentifiable one.

Jay caressed his rifle. "You know what we can do with this power, baby?"

"Anything we want?"

"Exactly."

We had weapons, disguises, and the desire. We could pull off perfect crimes.

I grinned, sliding my hand over my pistol, feeling the prize beneath my tingling skin.

"Well, Mister Jay, what do you want to steal first?"

*

Jay squeezed the trigger. The assault rifle blew away the glass doors, the walls beside them, and the security guards in the entrance.

As I bounded into the casino, everyone inside screamed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," I said, opening my arms. "I present your evening's entertainment: the one and only Mister Jay!"