Joker helped Harleen down the short hallway out of the bathroom and onto one of the soft leather sofas in his office. Harleen sat down on the couch in a daze, not quite realizing the full impact of what just happened in the last 10 minutes. Joker stood in front of her and leaned down to kiss her forehead and rub her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "How is your neck? Can you breathe? I can get you a doctor."
Harleen looked up at him with sorrow in her lovely green eyes. "I'm okay. I don't need a doctor, I just want to go home," she said in a mere whisper.
"Okay, give me a few minutes. I'll be right back," he assured her, "and then I'm taking you back home."
Harleen closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to get a bath and rest in a comfortable bed.
Joker returned to the bathroom where Ziggy's half naked body was sprawled on the floor. He felt an anger well up within him—an anger greater than he ever felt when he was being tortured at Arkham. He felt completely betrayed by the man whom he trusted almost implicitly. Ziggy was part of his inner circle of men. He managed an important account. Yet, Ziggy was stealing from him and he knew there had to have been a connection between him and the guards at Arkham. He knew that Ziggy must have been paying them off. For what purpose? Joker wondered. To keep me subdued? To ensure I didn't escape?
Joker spat on the man's body when a tattoo of the word "HA" on his lower abdomen caught his eye. Joker leaned down and lifted the dead man's shirt and then ripped it open, causing its buttons to pop off. Joker's lips turned downward as he saw that the man's chest was littered in tattoos similar to his own: a jester, playing cards, laughter written out. Joker grabbed the bloody sconce that he had left on the floor.
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!" he screamed out and then slammed the heavy glass onto the floor, breaking it into several large pieces and cutting his already injured hand even more in the process. "YOU MOTHERFUCK!"
Joker's chest heaved as he made the realization that Ziggy wasn't just betraying Joker to the authorities, but he was also trying to become the Joker himself. Under normal circumstances, Joker might find this to be amusing—even flattering—but this once trusted associate was responsible for an unspeakable betrayal, which included defiling his queen. He wasn't sure which act made him more angry—the fact that he was stealing his money to ensure that Arkham's guards continued to terrorize him, the fact that he seemed to be emulating him in a probable attempt to usurp his position as leader of his empire, or the fact that he sexually assaulted his woman.
"J?" Frost said as he stepped back into the doorway. "I have a car ready for you."
Joker wiped his mouth on his wrist, transferring some of his blood from his hand to his face. The blood flowing from the wounds on his hand now began to drip on the floor. "Jonny, we need to talk," Joker said turning to Frost with a grim look. "You are the only person I can trust right now."
Frost nodded in response. He knew things were serious when Joker called him by his first name and not his code name. Joker gestured to Ziggy's tattooed body and explained that he believed Ziggy was planning on taking over his empire and how it lined up with the probable payments to the guards at Arkham. Frost agreed.
"I'll keep tabs on Arlo and Rocky," Frost suggested, referring to the other men who helped Ziggy manage the gambling account.
"Good, text me with anything you find. We need to stay close together on this one," Joker said as he grabbed a hand towel from beneath the sink and wrapped it around his bloody hand. "No one tries to take over my business or my girl and gets away with it!"
*****
Joker opted to have a driver take him and Harleen back to his mansion while he sat in the back seat of the SUV and held her shaking body. She had felt cold to the touch and he had placed his tuxedo jacket around her shoulders to help warm her up. Joker felt a confusing dichotomy of emotions ranging from near-blinding rage to a warm compassion, with the latter being the most unfamiliar to him. In a sense, it scared him to feel this way as it made him too vulnerable. He didn't like feeling captive to his emotions, which made him an easy target for emotional warfare. When you care for someone, he always reminded himself, you can be manipulated. He learned that the hard way so many years ago. He winced as the painful memories of his life that once was, including his soon-to-be wife and unborn child, came tumbling back into his mind. He had tried to repress them by drowning himself in alcohol, drugs, and crime over the years, but he was beginning to remember and he was not comfortable with the pain of those memories.
"I'm sorry," Joker nuzzled Harleen's ear and whispered quietly, nearly drowned out by the sound of the vehicle's engine. He pulled her head toward him to rest on his shoulder as he watched the view change from dirty city streets and highways to rural scenes of forests and large homes with huge lawns. Petting her hair and occasionally kissing her forehead during the journey, they arrived at his place.
Finally making it up to Joker's floor, Harleen felt that she could relax. She felt safe with him, even in light of the events at the club that night. Her neck hurt and she felt a bit delirious from the shock, but she insisted to him that she was otherwise okay.
"I'd just love a bath," she responded when Joker asked her if there were anything he could do for her.
Joker carefully undressed Harleen and laid her on the bed, proceeding to then draw a warm bath for her. As he helped her into the bathtub, he could not help but enjoy the perfect curves of her smooth body. He dipped a shower scrunchy into the soapy water and began to gently scrub her arms and chest, trying his best not to become aroused as his hands followed her womanly shape. He carefully washed the skin on her neck where he could see a yellow bruise had already begun to develop. The blood from his hand began to stream down her chest and stain the water.
"Are you okay, J?" Harleen asked as she noticed just how badly his hand was bleeding.
"I'm fine," Joker said tersely. "It's you I'm worried about."
Harleen wanted to smile at his admission but couldn't bring herself to do so. He's worried about me. He cares about me, she thought to herself. This was a tender and loving side of Joker that she had never thought she would ever see—or that she even thought existed.
Satisfied that her neck was clean, he continued to scrub her body below the surface of the water. He stiffened as he rubbed her flat stomach and her long legs, but his lust was countered with anger as he thought of how Ziggy may have polluted her.
"Harleen," Joker said softly as he paused scrubbing and re-rolled his white sleeves. "Harley, what happened? I need to know."
Harleen looked up with shame on her face. "J, he didn't... he didn't rape me," she assured him. "But..." she said quietly, looking down at his bloody hand dripping in the water, "...he tried to. He almost did. He... he shoved his finger inside of me. And he grabbed my hair and he choked me. He put duct tape on my face and then ripped it off and kissed me. I tried to scream so you could hear me, but he was choking me so hard that I almost passed out. That's when you came in and saved me." She lifted her hand up and linked her fingers in with his. She couldn't bring her eyes to his as she stared at his loosened tie around his neck. When she finally met his gaze, Joker's mouth was slightly agape and she could see that he was desperately trying to control his anger with his breathing.
The veins in his neck were protruding as he released her fingers and ran his wet and bloody hand through his verdant hair. He knew he was to blame for the event and he just wanted to punch something. He stood up and paced through the bathroom, stopping to lean over one of the sinks and look at his reflection. He was never pleased with what he saw but he never seemed to care until now—now that he had been reminded of his past. I'm no longer that person anymore, he thought. This is what I am now. A monster. A hideous fucking monster.
His guttural growl increased in volume as he picked up a toothbrush holder made of granite and smashed it against the mirror, shattering the glass all over the countertop. Harleen gasped and slid farther down in the tub concerned that he was upset with her. She watched as he stood leaning over the counter looking downward for several minutes as if he were trying to compartmentalize his rage and keep it in check.
Joker gathered his thoughts as he knew this was not a productive way to take out his anger. He didn't want to scare Harleen. He did, in fact, kill her abuser, which was very satisfying. He had no chance. Ziggy must have known that, he contended. He must have planned to kill Harleen and maybe pin it on someone else... and I would have believed him any other day. Joker took a deep breath and turned to Harleen with a look of concern.
"Are you ready to get dried off yet?" he asked her. He grabbed a big fluffy white towel as she shook her head yes, the blood from his hand starting to stain the edge as he held it.
"That's okay," Harleen said as she saw the look of consternation on his face at the realization that he was making her towel bloody. She gently held his hand, bringing it to her face to kiss it. "Do you have any gauze? We should wrap this up."
"I'm not worried about it. Let's just get you over to the bed, okay?" he told her as he helped her stand and dry off. He walked her to his bed and turned down the covers, allowing her to slip in. He kissed her on the forehead as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"J?" Harleen asked into the darkness. "Don't leave me."
"I won't. I promise," he said, leaning in to kiss her on the lips. His hand was beginning to pulsate from the heat of the bathwater. He removed his pants and then unbuttoned his once crisp, white shirt, which he had begun wrapping around his injured hand. He climbed into bed next to Harleen and held her tight.
"I promise I won't leave," he reassured her as she drifted off to sleep.
*****
Harleen slept through the entire night and finally awoke at noon the next day. She sat up in bed and saw no sign of Joker in the room. The world outside was sunny with a cool blue sky slightly visible through the naked tree tops obscuring the view. She laid in bed and felt her throat, it was painful and sore, and she felt a large, tender lump on the side of her head where she had been struck—a stark reminder of the assault she endured the night before.
She felt sick to her stomach thinking of what that man had attempted to do her and what he succeeded in doing to her. She thought about Joker and hoped that this fact didn't deter him from wanting her. She just got him. She didn't want to lose him so quickly. She felt scared—scared about this world that Joker had introduced her to. She was now part of his life, which meant that she could be subject to the same danger that surrounded him. She could be collateral damage and a target for being his "queen."
Her heart raced and the knot in her stomach grew as she began to replay the events of the night before in her mind. She knew that man was trouble from the start. She just had a feeling about it. She kept thinking over and over how she could have avoided the situation—how she should have waited or screamed louder. She thought of how pale Joker looked when he seemed to materialize in the bathroom, a golden gun in his hand. She knew he was brutal, but she never thought that he could be so violent and it frightened her. She thought about how deformed her attacker's face became with each punch that Joker laid on him with the sconce. She pictured his blood and brains and eyes and tongue and teeth breaking or oozing out of his face. His blood was cast in all directions, some landing on her clothing and bare skin. In all of her years of practicing medicine, she had never seen a dead person.
The vision tumbled in her head and arrested all other thoughts. She suddenly felt a wave of sickness flood her body and she rushed to the bathroom to throw up in the toilet. She took a drink of water from the sink and then gargled with some mouthwash that she found in a cabinet, avoiding the broken glass all around. She felt a little bit better and headed back to lie in bed.
*****
Harleen awoke several hours later to darkness. It was the middle of winter and the sun set very early, so she knew it was after 5:00. She looked around the room for an alarm clock or a wall clock of any kind but she couldn't find anything. That's when a figure sitting on a chair in the darkness caught her eye. Her pulse began to race as her heart threatened to jump out of her chest.
"J, is that you?" she called to the obscure figure in the shadows.
"It's me, kitten. It's just me," he said as he yawned. He had clearly fallen asleep in the chair while watching over her.
"How long have you been sitting there?" she asked.
"Long enough to know that you talk in your sleep and mumble the most adorable things," he said as he sat down on the bed beside her. "You must be starving. The chef is gone, but I will make you whatever you want. Eggs? Bacon? Toast?"
"Mmm, yes!"
"Okay, you got it," he replied with a sweet grin, filling Harleen with joy.
Joker was a man who was full of surprises, she was learning quickly. She took his injured hand in her own noticing that it was now wrapped in gauze.
"Your poor hand," she whispered as she brought it to her lips, caressing and sprinkling it with soft kisses. She examined the damage and tucked in some of the loose, bloody gauze.
Joker pulled away, not used to having someone care for his wellbeing. It was a feeling that he could get used to if he weren't careful. And the more that Harleen showed concern, love, and tenderness for him, the more he craved it. He needed it. Maybe this is what I've been missing, he thought to himself. From deep within, he felt a strange upwelling of... was it love? All he knew for sure was that, in this very moment, he felt a peacefulness in his usually taut and strained chest. He then cupped Harleen's beautiful face with both hands and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.
"Come with me," he said. "I have a surprise for you."
*****
Harleen finished what must have been the most delicious omelet she had ever tasted, made by Joker himself, and felt like she was in heaven. She enjoyed watching him move through the kitchen with ease, adding a bit of flavor to her dish with cherry tomatoes, grilled asparagus, and feta cheese.
"You didn't tell me you were such a talented chef," she said, placing her fork on her plate and smiling widely at him.
Pushing his plate away from himself, he brought his elbow to the surface and rested his chin in his hand.
"I told you, Doctor," he said playfully, "I'm just full of secrets." Then he gathered their plates and put them on the counter in a kitchen that was spacious enough to fit at least 20 people easily.
"How do you not get lost in your own home?" she asked rhetorically as she gazed around the room, taking in all of its features from the stainless steel appliances, the dark cherry floor, and the exposed beams to the light gray granite countertops and the matching cabinet handles. She thought of how much of a shock it must have been for him to go from this kind of luxury to spending two months in solitary confinement at Arkham in a windowless room with light green paint chipping from the cinderblock walls. She thought of her first meeting with him as he sat tranquilized on his cot unable to hold her gaze. He must have been so miserable, she thought as undid her black bathrobe and re-tied it, revealing her nude body to Joker's hungry eyes in the process.
"That reminds me," he said with glee. "I have a surprise for you! Come with me." He held out his elbow and locked Harleen's arm in it as he walked with her into the hallway. "I hope you like it," he turned and kissed her on the temple.
*****
Leading her downstairs to one of the large ballrooms on the first floor, Joker directed Harleen to a large inner office full of several tables upon which were dozens of bags from clothing retailers. Harleen's eyes widened as she realized the full scope of the surprise... Victoria's Secret, Gucci, Ann Taylor, Prada, Versace...
Joker, pulling the cord to close the thick, heavy maroon colored drapes, turned to stare at Harleen's face as she delighted in the display. He watched as she reached into each bag to pull out all manner of gorgeous clothing that his staff had purchased for her, with her looking up at him while gasping and squealing like a little girl at each piece that she retrieved and held up to herself. Dresses, skirts, tops, sweaters, blouses, slacks, shoes, bras, panties... most of it all in the correct size as Joker had found the sizes on the clothing she had worn to his home. She couldn't believe her eyes.
"J," she exclaimed, "this must have cost you a small fortune!" She surveyed the clothing that she had laid out on the table, with some price tags at over a thousand dollars. "I... I..." she paused as she became overwhelmed with emotion. "I can't accept this!"
"It's my gift to you," he told her. "Harleen..." he said quietly, looking down at his injured hand. "Harleen, you saved me in more ways than one. I owe you so much more than just this."
He looked up and touched her cheek, his fingers electric on her skin. He couldn't explain why he wanted her so badly. He wanted their bodies to be forever intertwined with each other. He wanted to be inside of her, hearing her call out his name in that most intimate moment of shared rapture. He wanted her to delight in his body as much as he delighted in hers. Just inches from her face, he could feel her soft breath on his lips. Slowly her lips parted and he pressed his mouth onto hers, their tongues dancing together like two lovers completely in tune with each other. His pants were tight from his pulsating erection, which he pushed into her hip. He let out a soft guttural sigh as she pushed her pelvis back against his. His hand moved from her hair down to her neck, tugging at her skin in the process.
"Ow!" Harleen gasped quietly and winced in pain. She brought her hand up to meet Joker's and pulled it to her shoulder.
"Oh, Harley, I'm so sorry," he apologized, stepping back to look at the growing yellow bruise. He could see fingerprints on her neck, four on one side and one on the other showing where Ziggy had gripped her so tightly. He leaned in and hugged her with his cheek to her ear as he breathed heavy, hot breaths into her hair. He wanted her more than anything he ever wanted in his life, but he didn't want to be the cause of her pain. His brain fought against the aching, animalist urges that had grown between his legs. He was on fire and ready to combust into a raging inferno. Luckily, his brain won the battle and he decided against his poorer judgment of lustfully ravaging Harleen on the floor. He took a deep breath and kissed her on the cheek, releasing her from his embrace.
Then he turned and pulled out another bag that he had hidden on the floor behind a desk. Harleen's jaw dropped as he revealed the tell-tale turquoise colored Tiffany & Co bag and placed it on the table.
"I want you to have this," he said as he pulled out a large matching blue box and handed it to Harleen.
Opening the box, she encountered a velvety black case and removed it. She lifted the lid to unveil a platinum necklace with a solitaire diamond pendant and earrings to match. She knew the price tag had to be at least ten thousand dollars.
"J... J..." she stumbled on her words, tears forming in her eyes. "I don't know what to say. This is so beautiful. Thank you." She looked up at him as a tear fell from her eye and down her cheek. He wiped it away with his calloused thumb on his wounded hand.
"I'm glad you like it," he said as he reached into the box and removed the necklace. Holding the necklace in his hand, he gently brushed her long hair to the side and pulled the black robe down to expose her smooth shoulders. He fumbled as he tried to attach the clasp and cursed at its inability to open, which caused Harleen to giggle. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled as she touched the pendant, tears welling in her eyes again.
"Thank you," she sighed into his ear as she embraced him and kissed him on the cheek. "It is so perfect."
Joker smiled and held her hard against his body, feeling a satisfaction that he had never felt before. He never wanted to let her go.
*****