Jðkêr//Är†hµr x RêåÐêr ïmågïñê§ & ðñê-§hð†§

• Crazy For You (pt.3)

--3rd person POV--

"Come on, come on! Get on your knees people, you heard the man! We ain't got all day."

"You tell 'em, honey." Joker snickered, as he spun himself around in the comfortably large, office swivel chair. "God, I love it when you take control. It's so sexy."

From across the other side of the room, Harleen smiled at her lover dreamily, seemingly indifferent to the horrified looks adorning the faces of all those currently being held at gunpoint.

"You do? Awe, puddin'. You never told me that before."

"I didn't? I would've thought it was pretty damn obvious." Planting his feet down firmly on the floor to stop the chair from spinning, Joker gave her a flirtatious wink.

She giggled girlishly, almost completely forgetting herself and the job they were in the middle of. Meaning that her beau had to remind her...

"Hey hey, focus my little pumpkin pie, focus." He snapped his fingers at her. "You don't wanna make Mister J cross now, do you? You know how cranky he can get when things don't go according to plan."

"Don't worry Mister J, your Harley's got it covered." Turning her attention back to the people currently kneeling near her feet, she aimed the gun at the one closest to her. "Now don't try anything funny or these fancy carpets here are gonna need deep-cleaning, if you catch my drift. Mister J ain't in the mood for no funny business, and when you upset him you upset me, Harley Quinn!"

Just then a side door burst open, and Jack reentered the room, his clown mask safely hiding his face, followed by a handful of other fellow goons.

"We sure hit the jackpot here this time boss, look!"

Joker, who now sat at the recently vacated desk, his crossed ankles resting casually on the polished mahogany surface; displaying his white socks, turned his indolent gaze on his henchman almost disinterestedly. He was clasping an open box in his hand, a box which contained something excessively sparkly, and needless to say, expensive looking.

"The Wayne collection!" Jack exclaimed, excitedly. "Man, these diamonds are worth an absolute fortune!"

"Put them back."

Jack halted in his tracks, unsure if he'd heard the crime overlord correctly. "What's that, boss?"

Rising from the chair, Joker stood and stretched, his long, wiry limbs colourfully clad in his trademark red suit. That suit was as infamous as he himself now. Everyone in Gotham recognised it as the preferred attire of the Clown Prince of Crime; whether it be the youngest school child or eldest pensioner, everybody knew that suit.
Just like they knew the greasepaint and the slicked-back, stringy emerald curls.

"What are you deaf all of a sudden, Jack? You heard me. I said put them back." He repeated.

Harleen's eyes fleetingly met with Jacks' through the slits in the plastic mask, and she was clearly able to recognise his bewilderment and silent pleading.
Hastily she beckoned one of the other henchman over, handing him the gun so that she could take a closer look for herself.

"But puddin'..." She beamed, decorating herself with one of the necklaces, and a beautiful tiara. "Look at all the pretties! Can't we just--?"

"I said PUT THEM BACK!"

The ferocity of his deliverance caused everyone in the room to jump; hostages and henchmen alike.