Dr. Harleen Quinzel sat nervously in her second-floor office when she heard the loud explosion that rocked the whole building. She knew it was the Joker and his men. She gave him a machine gun, after all. Why did I do this? She thought to herself. I must be as insane as the Joker to have fallen for him. Am I willing to risk my career—my life—for this? For his freedom?
She heard more explosions and a commotion out in the hallway with men yelling while footsteps approached her door. A man in a strange mask burst through, pointing a big gun directly at her. "Dr. Quinzel, you're just the person I'm looking for!" his familiar voice exclaimed. "You're coming with me." Harleen reluctantly removed herself from her chair and timidly approached the masked man. "Come on!" he barked at her. "Move faster!"
She could hear chaos erupting throughout the asylum amidst gunshots and she realized that she was in real danger. Why did I do this? Her heart began to race as she approached the diminutive man dressed as a shark in her doorway.
He abruptly grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her body close to his while sneering. "We got big plans for you, girly. I'm supposed to take you alive, but I wasn't told anything about not hurtin' you a little bit." His grip on her wrist tightened as she tried desperately to pry his fingers away with her free hand. He pushed the tip of the gun into her neck and growled like dog.
This man is insane! She screamed in her head. Her mind was racing and thinking about her next move when a large psychology textbook on the table next to the open door caught her eye. It was within arm's reach. Before she knew it, she grabbed the book, hit the masked man in the face with it, and used that moment of surprise to give him a swift kick in the crotch with her knee. He immediately doubled over, releasing his grip on her wrist.
"You fucking bitch!!" he screamed at her as she ran out into the hallway, scurrying over to the stairwell. She entered just as the masked man began to fire his gun at her from his position on the floor.
Harleen flew down the stairs in her high heels while cursing the fact that she had begun to dress this way. It was all because of him, she thought to herself. I would never have worn high heels and a skirt to my job at Arkham if it hadn't been for him! She had seen the way that the Joker had looked at her, how he held her gaze a little too long. She caught him enjoying the sight of her long legs and she admitted to herself that she liked the attention. He was, in fact, quite vocal about her beauty, albeit in a crass way, but she knew that underneath his tactless compliments his body stirred at the sight of hers.
"How are you feeling today, Mr. Joker?" she remembered asking him at one particular session, as she always asked of him.
"Not too well," he responded curtly.
"Oh? Why is that?" she questioned with a concerned look on her face.
He gave a low guttural growl. "Ever want somethin' that you know you can't have, Doctor?" He tilted his head and squinted his eyes while surveying her gorgeous blonde locks and supple pink lips. "I'm having a real problem with lust..." he said with utmost seriousness while staring directly into her soft green eyes.
For a moment, Harleen almost felt a real human connection with the Joker. And, for a moment, his bright eyes shone with a flash of sincerity, causing her to shift in her seat.
He then reverted in typical Joker style to his toothy silver grin while inhaling a partial laugh. "I mean, what's a guy supposed to do around here if his hands are always strapped in a jacket? I have needs, Doctor!" Then he threw his head back and erupted into laughter.
Harleen's daydream quickly vanished as she was pulled back to the reality of gunfire and screaming. She had made it two floors down to the sub-basement where she believed she was unseen, completely forgetting about the security cameras that lined the halls. She entered a large room—an old storage room—and made her way through a labyrinth of old medical equipment, heading toward the back to a small, windowless room with a table and a few chairs. She decided this would be a good place to hide amongst the forgotten filing cabinets. In a corner, she found a space between the cinderblock wall and a metal filing cabinet where an ancient garbage can resided for what must have been decades. She quietly pulled the garbage can out and took its place in the corner on the tile floor. Harleen brought her knees up to her chest and sat huddled hoping that the police would come and the Joker and his men would leave. She was too scared to want him to find her and save her like she fantasized.
What have I done? She whimpered, biting her lip and looking up at the ceiling. What have I done?
*****
Harleen took long, deep breaths for the next 10 minutes or so to reduce her anxiety as she started to convince herself that the men had left the asylum. She hadn't heard any noise. No gunshots. No commotion. Perhaps they were gone? Just as she was almost comfortable to move out from her corner, she heard some metal clanking in the large equipment room. Her pulse began to race as she heard hushed voices and the sound of feet on the floor. She felt the air pressure change in the room as if someone had just walked in.
"Well, what do we have here...?" Joker's voice filled the dead silence in the small room. Harleen was confused by her own opposing feelings: her sense of utter fear for this clearly unstable man and yet a sense of comfort—as if the Joker were here to rescue her. He used his brute strength to slam the table toward a wall of filing cabinets, kicking the garbage can out of the way in the process.
"I woulda missed you hiding back there, my Harley Quinn, if it hadn't been for your pointy red shoes... Tsk, tsk, Doctor."
Harleen, still hiding in the corner, looked at the points of her red pumps in the dim light, which were beyond the protective shadow of the cabinet on her right. She desperately tried to pull her legs in closer to her body, as if Joker would no longer see her and leave.
"Oh, no you don't, my pretty kitten!" Joker announced enthusiastically as he grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her out of her hiding spot. Her butt slid on the floor, causing her skirt to bunch up at her hips, which revealed her long legs and red satin panties in the process.
She looked up to see Joker standing above her. He was shirtless and wearing his Arkham sweatpants. She had never seen him with his shirt off and could never in her wildest dreams imagine the muscles he had hidden under his asylum attire. His arms bulged and his veins pulsed. His pale body was covered in tattoos. His brilliant green hair gleamed in the very faint light coming in through the door as he looked down on her. Disheveled strands fell down to his cheeks. He had fire in his eyes and a pained look on his face. Harleen had never seen him in such a state. He was in control. He had power. He was no longer relegated to his straitjacket and ankle shackles.
"Do you need me for anything, Boss?" one of Joker's henchmen asked from the doorway 15 feet away.
"Just get out!" the Joker snapped, his voice bellowing through the room. "I got unfinished business here. I'll meet you at the getaway point."
Joker stood between Harleen's legs as she attempted to lift herself off her back with her elbows. He gazed down at her gorgeous body knowing how he longed to have her in this position. His mind flashed to all of the late night fantasies he had in his cell thinking about what he would do to his Dr. Quinzel—to his Harley Quinn—if only he had the chance. He felt himself stiffening at the thought of it.
"Oh, I don't think so, Doctor," Joker snarled, seeing her squirm out from under him. He dropped to his knees over Harleen with a wide leather belt in his hands, forcing her back down to the ground. He grabbed her arms and pulled them up so he could hold her wrists down on the floor next to her head while using the belt to hold her neck in place, effectively choking her. "You left me in a black hole of rage and confusion," he accused her.
She didn't understand. She never intended to hurt the Joker—only to make him better. Tears stung her eyes as she attempted to speak, which would only come out as a gurgle and a grunt.
"What's that, my dear? Joker got your tongue?" he spat at her.
He was clearly upset with her. Why? She questioned herself. I did everything he asked of me! I cared! I showed him concern and empathy! I put my career on the line by bringing him a machine gun! Who would do that for... for a mental patient... for anyone?!
"I... I'm sorry!" She tried to speak again but it came out as a whisper.
Joker looked into her eyes and saw something... maybe it was sincerity that he detected. He remembered those eyes from the many therapy sessions he had with her. He remembered her kindness with the food she given him. He remembered the way she caressed his hair last night in his cell. He let up on the belt, causing Harleen to cough and gag from the release of the pressure.
"I'm sorry," she said again, her voice hoarse. "I swear I only just learned yesterday that they were performing electroshock on you when I found you. I didn't know, I swear. That is not part of my treatment—I don't believe in it! I'm so, so sorry. I would never harm you in that way. I... I..." Her voice trailed off. Was she really that close to professing her love for him?
"That's okay, Doc," he pronounced almost flippantly. "I didn't mind it. I'm so far gone off the edge that nothin' is gonna bring me back and nothin' hurts me either." He paused, staring directly into her eyes, "But I think I can finally get something that I've been wanting for quite some time now..." he said in a solemn voice with a wicked silver smile while still holding Harleen's wrists down beside her head.
"Are you going to kill me, Mr. J?" Harleen asked, slipping into her native Brooklyn accent.
"Oh, I'm not going to kill you," he responded. He paused again and thought about what he could do to her. He had wanted to hurt her. He had planned to find her and hook her up to the electroshock machine in retaliation to the treatment given to him. But now, in a moment of clarity, he believed that she had nothing to do with it. Maybe she is on my side after all, he thought to himself. Here he was, hovering over this beautiful woman on his hands and knees—a woman who risked her career to bring him a machine gun. Her skirt was up to her waist and her legs were spread wide—almost as if her body were beckoning him to enter. There was no way he couldn't take advantage of this situation, he concluded. The thought of him inside of her swirled in his head. He was aroused completely and Harleen would have certainly seen the bulge in his pants if she had looked down. He was becoming delirious with lust as he slowly licked his lips while looking directly in her face.
"I'm not going to kill you," he reiterated. "I want you." And with those words he pressed himself between Harleen's open legs. "I want you now," he whispered to her gruffly.
Every fiber within Harleen's body reeled in delight upon feeling his aroused cock between her legs. She was excited to know that she elicited a feeling of sexual excitement within him. She was comforted in knowing that, as much as he seemed so un-human at times, he was very much a man, as she knew he used to be. He was flesh and blood and driven by desire and lust as much as any other man. Her abdomen ached at the thought of him inside of her, their bodies glistening in sweat while their hips rocked together in an attempt to reach mutual ecstasy. She could feel herself becoming wet at the thought of it.
He dropped closer to her face and her breath trembled at their impending kiss. He looked at her delicate lips, studying them for a moment as he had many times before, and leaned down to barely even touch them before lifting back up. Then he leaned in again and ever so gently pressed his lips against hers before pulling away and looking up toward the wall behind her with a troubled look on his face. He wanted Harleen on her own terms, he realized. She was pure. She was beautiful on the inside—something that he lost so long ago or maybe never had. She was innocence. Yet he wanted her so badly. He wanted all of his fantasies to come to fruition. The fantasies of her visiting his cell at night where he would fuck her in his cot. The fantasies of their therapy sessions where he would fuck her while she sat on the table. The fantasies of her helping him break out of the asylum where he would whisk her to his mansion and fuck her all night long in every position imaginable and in every room possible. He was the king and she would be his queen. Why would she want me? He questioned himself. I'm a killer. I'm barely even human. She can't heal me. His self-doubt crept in and he pushed himself above her.
Harleen sensed his turmoil as she read the emotion in his eyes. To his surprise, Harleen slipped off her pumps, tilted her body, and brought her feet up to either side of his hips. Then she deftly slid her toes inside of the waistband of his sweatpants and pushed them down, exposing his aroused cock. She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pulled him back into place between her legs.
Joker's blue eyes flashed with intensity and his face suddenly became serious as he realized that Harleen wanted him, too. He could no longer resist his need to take her, having held back for so long. He was an untamed beast with an insatiable sexual appetite. He kissed her lips hard, pressing her head onto the cold tile floor while still holding her wrists down. He released her wrists and her hands immediately went to embrace his head while she pushed her nails through his hair and pulled him in for an even deeper kiss. Their lips collided together and their tongues eagerly explored each other's mouths amidst breathy moans. With one hand holding himself above her, he used his free hand to caress her clothed breasts and stomach. Harleen responded by unbuttoning her blouse to reveal a matching red satin bra encasing her perfectly round breasts. Joker could not contain the yearning in his eyes as he put his face in her cleavage and inhaled the beautiful scent of her perfume mixed with the heady smell of sweat.
Lifting her head from the ground, Harleen cupped the left side of his face and longingly stared into his eyes. "I need you," she whispered aloud. She almost couldn't believe the urgency in her voice. She swallowed hard. "I need to feel you inside of me. Right now."
Lunging forward, Joker brought his lips to hers and kissed her with such passion that he thought he would explode on her and not in her. Harleen reached down between her legs and pulled her panties to the side, guiding him inside of her. He pushed in and became even more excited at the fact that she was so wet—knowing that he did that to her. Little did he know that Harleen had multiple fantasies about him: undressing in front of him, giving him a blowjob while his hands were tied in his straitjacket, fucking him on the couch in her office, being pleasured by his tongue in her bed... She was just as excited to be with him as he was to be with her and they were both realizing it in this moment.
Her lips tasted like strawberries and her hair smelled like flowers, and he was intoxicated with her scent... with her skin... with her lips... with her body. He couldn't keep his hands off of her and cursed the fact that he couldn't remove her bra without removing her lab coat and blouse. He grabbed her by her waist and pushed her hips down harder around his cock, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He had been so lustful for so long and Harleen was the object of his affection—the only object of his affection. He had thought about her day and night and to finally be inside of her was almost more than he could take. His lips traced a path from her ear down her jaw line to her neck and then to her breasts. Not able to restrain himself any longer, he pulled her straps down as far as they could go, providing a little give to the cups of the bra so her breasts could be revealed. Gorgeous, he thought to himself. He stroked them and began to gently suck on her nipples, continuing to suck harder as she arched her back with moans escaping her lips. She grabbed his hair with her fingers and began to pull—nearly pushing him over the edge.
"Oh, J... I w-want to f-feel you... c-cum in me..." Harleen said breathlessly as she pulled him up from her breasts. Their lips crashed into each other, hot and sweaty and slightly sweet from Harleen's perfume. Joker cupped his hands around her face, kissing her and looking directly into her eyes while pushing himself in and out of her. She was panting and whimpering in agony. She was almost there. Almost in ecstasy. And he was the one who took her there.
This was definitely better than hurting her, he decided. He still had control over her, but in a different way. It was control over her body. And it made him ache knowing that she responded to him in this way. She arched her back again and he grabbed her by the waist, pushing himself as far inside of her as he could possibly go. He watched her face wince in a combination and pain and pleasure as her eyes rolled back.
"Ohhhh... J... I'm... gonna..." she was barely able to articulate her words through her moans. Her body trembled and her legs braced around his midsection, not allowing him to remove himself from her even if he wanted to.
Joker couldn't take it any longer. The feeling of being inside of Harleen was too great for him to sustain. He leaned in toward her, putting his weight on her body. Holding the back of her head, he rasped in her ear, "Oh, Harley, I'm gonna cum..." And then, in a shared cataclysm that seemed to last forever, their bodies shuddered in a frenzied pleasure, like an electrical storm coursing through their entire being. He pushed himself into her so hard when he orgasmed that it felt like he would be part of her for eternity.
After catching her breath, Harleen put her fingers below Joker's chin and pulled his face up to hers. She could feel the tension having left his body and she felt so happy that she could be the one to do that for him. His breath was still erratic as he kissed her again. Sweat dripped from his forehead with his loose hair tickling her cheeks. This time, the kiss was deep and meaningful—not fervent as they had been in the heat of the moment. This kiss felt like the promise of more to come, the promise of a continued relationship with this man.
A man, she thought to herself as she inhaled his scent and looked into his steel blue eyes, calm like the sky before a storm. He is just a man. He does have emotion. He does have feelings. He does want me. Harleen felt validated in falling for him. They laid there in the afterglow for some time, with Joker caressing her face with his rough hands.
"Come on, Harley," he said quietly, pushing himself above her body with his arms and hovering over her. "We better get out of here before the police arrive." He kissed her sweetly on the lips in a gesture that was almost like he was thanking her for providing him with so much pleasure.
He stood up and pulled his sweatpants up over his still-swollen penis, not caring how much fluid their sex had generated. He offered her a hand as she attempted to stand up, her legs still quivering. Her panties were completely soaked, and their combined fluids were flowing out of her and down her leg. She smiled at the thought. She flattened her skirt down, buttoned her shirt back up, and stepped into her shoes.
"Where are we going?" she asked, liking the fact that he called her Harley. She decided then and there to accept the new moniker.
He looked down at her lips and pulled her in for a deep kiss, leaving her with tingles throughout her body.
"Let's go home," he replied with a gleam in his eye.
*****