Harley Quinn and the Joker

Droplets

I didn't want to be here. There was a sick, twisting feeling in my stomach when I looked over at him, looked at his sick, crude smile and felt his arm twisted around my waist, pressing me against his side. We were sitting in the helicopter, flying off to Gotham, over pretty hills and sparkling rivers. I closed my eyes and remembered how I had been here with the Joker. I love you Harley Quinn. I remembered how he rolled his neck and glared, annoyed at me, but kissed me passionately the next second. The way his eyes reflected all the colours...the way he looked at me, how the fog cleared from his brilliant blue eyes. The way his hands gripped me hard, but lovingly.

"What are you thinking babe?" I opened my eyes and looked over at Champ, his dark eyes looking at me. It took all my effort to nestle in close to him and smile into those eyes, a black hole which ate up all the light.

"Nothing. Just about us...and what we're gonna do when we get back." He laughed, and placed his hand on my knee. 

"God, you're a horny slut aren't you." I smiled weakly.

"I guess I am. But before that...can we go to one of your missions? You know, you can show me off to your people." He smiled at me and pressed his lips against mine. I tried not to vomit, and stayed stuck in place until he drew back.

"I guess so. My phone doesn't have signal up here but when I get back I'll see if I have any messages from my people."

"So what do you actually do?" He seemed annoyed, as if I was stupid.

"I rule the place, bitch. I say where the drugs go, when they get there, if they get there, who gets it. And I kill a lot of people. I heard you like that shit." He grinned crudely.

"Where did you hear that from?" He shrugged.

"If you're dating the Joker you gotta like killing."

"Yeah, you got that right, Champ." I spat out his name, and he turned to me and punched me straight across the face, my head banging against the wall of the helicopter beside me. I gasped and felt the slow trickle of blood down the side of my head, where it had hit the edge of the window.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again, Joker trash." I stayed there, my eyes closed, ignoring the pain.

"I thought you'd be used to being hit. Doesn't he do it all the time?" My eyes were still screwed shut but the tears were seeping out, down my cheek.

"Yeah." I whispered. "Yeah, all the time." Only not like that. Never like that.

 An oxymoron: The Joker slapped me gently. And he did, he managed to hurt me but make it seem like it was a kiss, glare at me softly and make me want to run up to him and wrap my arms around his body. If it felt like that when he 'hurt' me, then imagine what it felt like when he loved me. 

Champ snickered at me, and turned back to the front. 

I stayed the rest of the way like that, as far away as possible as I could from him, my nostrils filled with his scent, my blood clotting and drying to the side of my face. Bear it out, Harley. You can do this. I passed the time sleeping, waking up and finding out I wasn't next to the Joker, then sleeping again. Anything to distract me from where I was and who I was with. Who I wasn't with. 

The helicopter drifted down to the ground and stopped. I looked outside. It was morning. We had been in the helicopter for a day without food, and now we were on a helicopter pad, at the top of a huge apartment building.

"Is this your house?" I asked. Champ was sitting with his phone in his lap, and snickered.

"I own the penthouse." I smiled. My white lacy dress was crumpled now, small droplets of blood stained into the shoulder.

"Stay here for a second. I'm gonna head out and get some signal." He jumped out of the helicopter and I breathed in deeply. Thank God he was gone, even if it was only for a short time. My stomach rumbled with hunger and I bit my lip. It had been ages since I had last eaten, I was starting to feel faint. I watched him standing out there, in the wind. He stayed there for a good half an hour, then came back in. Was the guy an alien? Did he not have to eat?

"Hey. Do you have food?" He looked over at me incredulously, as if the thought of any kind of sustenance never crossed his small mind.

"Yeah. There's some stuff in here..." He moved over to the back of the helicopter and pulled open a cabinet, tossed a ready made meal at me. I smiled and kissed his cheek when he sat back down.

In minutes I had devoured the meal, consisting of a bland kind of cold meat, peas and a block of what was supposed to be mashed potato. The helicopter had taken off again, and Champ had gone to the front to talk to the pilot.

I looked out the window. The sun was emerging from the side of the city, sending a deep golden light over Gotham. It was beautiful. We were flying over the rooftops of apartment buildings, traffic already jamming the streets even at this hour.

I waited out a couple of minutes, but I needed to pee. There was a toilet at the back and I moved quickly over to it and did my business. When I came out again we had stopped.

"Harley, there you are. I was worried you had jumped out." Champ was standing and grinning at me, his hands gripping the tops of the seats. I could see the whites of his knuckles, matching his pearly white teeth, so white they looked fake. They probably were. I smiled back at him.

"Why would I do that? I'm yours, remember?" His grin widened, and he motioned for me to come over to him. I took a deep breath and came up to him, close enough to see that there was no distinction between his iris and his pupil. He took off one of his gold necklaces from his neck and wrapped it around mine, claiming me as his property.

"We're here. It's a popular club. I'm meeting some guys to discuss some things. You're coming too, seeing as you're the main attraction." He pulled me out and onto the street. It was too early for clubs, too early for alcohol, but I followed him. The helicopter took off again, leaving us there. He led me in through the black doors of the club, where a especially bulky looking security guard let us in, and into an empty dance floor room. He pulled me to the side, into a private VIP room. The walls were like red carpet of some sort, and the floor was a deep red as well. There was a rectangular wood table and black leather seats, on which where a whole load of men sitting, each one of them nasty looking. They smiled at me as we came in, and not nice smiles either. One of them turned to the other and whispered something into his ear. There were women draped over their shoulders, wearing only underwear and bras. They glared at me, and I shifted uncomfortably as I sat down next to a guy covered in tattoos. He, on the other hand, grinned down at me.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is Harley Quinn. The Joker's bitch!" Announced Champ. They all laughed with him. There were comments passed around about me, and I smiled and laughed with them although I felt like killing them all. It wouldn't be easy, but it could be done. They drifted off the topic of me and started talking about something with too many code words for me to understand. 

About ten minutes in there was a knock on the door and two men dressed in black suits came in, each one of them holding a huge machine gun to their chest. Everyone looked up, in surprise, and instantly there was hostility in the room. 

"What?" Champ asked, annoyed.

"Someone has come to see you." Champ banged his fist down onto the table.

"Well, bring him here, if he's important. If not, shoot him. God, why do I have to tell you motherfuckers to do your job." The men shuffled and looked at him nervously.

"He, uh, he says you need to come. He looks quite important." Champ stood up and grabbed my arm.

"You're coming too. Wherever I go, you go, ok?" I nodded and tried to keep up with him as we rushed out of the room with the two guards leading the way.

"This way."

"To the kitchen?" Champ asked.

"That's where he is. He didn't want to move anywhere else."

We passed through the metal kitchen doors, and I stopped, my jaw dropping.

His green hair. His blue eyes. His red lips. His white, white skin. Him. It was him. It was the Joker.