For this story it should be known that Harley and Joker aren't together. It's best to assume that Joker 'got rid of her' after his escape from Arkham, but that will be explained further in this story. It should also be noted the relations between characters in this isn't entirely lovey dovey and does majorly involve abuse. This is based on the Joker from Suicide Squad.

I was walking back to my apartment from work, my day had been long and tedious and I was relieved this would be the start of the weekend yet again. The night had come and once again the stars of Gotham tried to glow above us, but were made bleak in comparison to the gleaming bat signal that shone above the city. A sign of hope, allowing the innocents to walk the streets without the fear of something terrible happening to them.

I sighed to myself as I slid the key into my apartment block door, it was nothing fancy but definitely good for the price. I made my way up the three flights of stairs to the top floor – a pain that the elevator was no longer working – and slumped onto my grey couch as soon as I entered my flat. It saddened me that I rented this flat as I looked around the room, it meant that the walls had to remain their cold white stance whereas I would have preferred to add a bit of an alternative feel to it simply to make it feel a bit more at home. But in all my furniture was modern, comfortable, and a bit more me. As I lay back into the cushions I let my brown eyes slide to a close.

The hassle of today flooded my head as I imagined all the chaos that had ensued in the office, everyone in the paper was made to write a different report on the Jokers crimes – he was running wild yet again thanks to Dr Harleen Quinzel letting him out of Arkham Asylum many months ago – yet he was so clever as to make sure none of his crimes directly led to him, meaning that if they police would even attempt to go after him they had no proof. Not that they had such strong forces to go through a 'businessman' such as the Joker. It was a stressful day, and doing such a job made it impossible to feel comforted by the bat symbol in the sky unlike the other civilians in the city. I could only imagine how the police felt considering they were his number one target.

Just as I felt my consciousness slowly slip into sleep the phone on the side table began to ring, causing me to sit upright in jolt. Blinking my blurred eyes back to its accurate vision I reached for the phone.
"Hello?" I answered, trying to hold back a yawn.
"Jess? Hey! God you sound like a sleepy head… it's only 8 o'clock and I sincerely hope you haven't forgotten our arrangement for tonight" my friends voice, Jane, laughed down the phone.

Suddenly my brain was alert and I was mentally slapping myself for forgetting this was the first night I was meant to be seeing Jane since she got back from her trip. Apparently she had arranged the whole thing. "No-no of course not! But just to …eh… refresh my memory, what time are you coming over?"
"I'm down stairs, buzz me in" she laughed.
"Yes… right… I'll see you in a second." I hung up the phone and ran to the buzzer next to the door, pressing it quickly then trying to sort my work clothes out to make it look slightly less crumpled. Soon enough Jane was at my door and her excitement and flamboyancy was lighting up the atmosphere in my otherwise silent flat.

After about half an hour of gossiping and catching up – the men that have come and gone in our lives, the work challenges, the travelling and sights she got to see as she travelled across Europe – she decided it was time to get ready. She had brought a small overnight bag for herself, always being planned and co-ordinated in her outfits for a night out as usual, and knew she would be the one dominating the control of my wardrobe. The two of us sat on the floor in front of the mirrors that doubled as doors over my wardrobe and fixed our hair and makeup, I tried my best to cover the bags under my eyes that blemished my tanned skin. I applied my black winged eyeliner, a thin layer of matte dark red lipstick and my face was complete. I allowed my rustled dark brown jaw length hair flow and soon enough Jane threw a black tight dress my way.

The one she chose I had never worn, I had bought it for a special occasion that… well just to my terrible luck never actually happened. I managed to hide the pained look in my eye from Jane, knowing she'd feel guilty if she realise it was the dress I was going to wear on the night I was going to celebrate my engagement. Instead I grabbed the dress and held myself together with an stiff upper lip.
Then soon enough the two of us were done. We looked like opposites, Jane was pale, tall, and very slender with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I had no idea how she hadn't found a man for herself yet, she was without doubt stunning beyond compare. But maybe that was why, I always joked it was because she had too much choice running after her the whole time. Not to say that I was bad in my luck with men, I have had my fair share of admirers yet the ones I was interested in… well something always seemed to get in the way.

Jane had chosen a new nightclub that I had never been to but thankfully it wasn't far from my apartment allowing us to be able to walk there without the torture of our feet hurting in our heels. I was nervous to say the least, this place gave off a certain feel about it – as though you were safe but only to an extent, only if you play by the rules. Yet I tried my best to shrug this off as we entered, and the club music flooded through my ears – these nerves could well just be due to the fact that I hadn't been out in such a scene for quite a while.

"Relax Jess! You're young, you're beautiful, and you fit in perfectly" she beamed, flashing her grin. Soon enough I had drank a fair bit, I allowed myself to be dragged onto the dance floor by Jane and I ended up dancing, with anyone and everyone I met – finally unleashing myself and having some much needed fun. From the corner of my eye I noticed a seating area, obviously for important people as it was placed far away from the rest of the booths and provided a view straight onto the dance floor. It probably catered to some people's preferences considering it more importantly overlooked glass boxes framed with gold which had beautiful women dancing in them.

However, something in that seating area caught everyone's notice if only for a split second, there was a loud bang – which sounded like a shot of a gun – and yet everyone paid little attention to it. It was as though they were used to it, or too scared to take obvious note of it. So like the rest I paid no heed to the bang.