(Writers note, this story isn't really about anything, just Harley. It jumps around a lot, and I just wanted to do it, but it is a fan fiction story, so this may or may not have happened to her.)
Harley Quinn, 27, in full costume sits on the floor next to a big purple throne. Her back is against the front of it, and her legs are stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The room is empty, and the lights are off, it's fairly dark, but moon light is coming in from the windows with the velvet curtains drawn. The floor is a marble, white and green checkered. And there are three steps leading up to where she sits. Her head is slightly tilted, and she's looking off. She turns towards the camera, "Oh hiya there." She smiles.
"I guess this was our empire, well this and much more. But this was our castle, our home."
She giggles softly, "Home….hmmm, what a nice word. I guess this was it." She stands up and looks around, "Wasn't it lovely?"
"But of course it was." Then she walks over to a window and opens it, "But that was our empire." Down below we see Gotham city lit up at night, the sight sound of the passing cars, the buildings with all their lights on, planes above, the people passing in the street, the faint sound of sirens.
She sighs, "I loved it. And it was all ours…His…"
"The professional must learn to be moved and touched emotionally, yet at the same time stand back objectively: I've seen a lot of damage done by tea and sympathy." -
Young doctor Quinzel, with her blonde hair up in a neat bun and her white button up shirt, with the black vest tightly over it, and the knee length tight black skirt with two quarter inch slits on the sides. There she was, black heels, one and a quarter inch in height, and her black framed glasses, just a tad to big sitting on her nose. She was walking up the front entrance of Arkham asylum with her cheep briefcase, and her used small black car, the make of which she could seldom remember, sitting in the parking lot.
Arkham asylum, she had passed it once or twice, and as when she drove by it she slowed down just a little, and she looked, she titled down her dark sunglasses and looked at it. There was one time she drove by at night, no one else was on that road and she stopped, and she just sat in her car a few minutes. The doors locked of course, she didn't want to be the victim in a horror movie. And she just sat there, wondering what Arkham was really like inside, how her shoes would sound on the floor, were the cells barred? Just little insignificant things that she couldn't help but wonder.
And she wondered who was in there, as in, the patients, who was in there right then, looking out there window, if they had one looking at her little black car and wondering who she was, why she was there. Then she put the car in drive and pulled away. But that was a long time ago.
Now she was actually there, and as she walked up to it, her heart raced, she felt that nervous jumpy butterfly feeling, and half wanted to turn and run the other way, the other half wanted to get in there as fast as she could, just to see if her heels made an echo on that floor. She stopped a second, and looked up at Arkham, it really was big, damned big. It was early that morning, and it reminded her of when she would see them taking the captured inmates back in at about this time in the morning after they ran ramped all night.
But Arkham, in it's own, in it's strange and dark way, scared her. It scared her because Arkham was a home, a home that she was about to go into. A home for madmen, for lunatics and psychopaths, and something about the place was both drawing her in and scarring her away. Part of her was wondering, if you lived in a place long enough, would you start to call it home? But even with that feeling in her heart and mind, she, dignified Dr. Harleen Quinzel went up to the door and rang the bell.
Dr. Joan Leland answered the door with a pleasant look, that calmed Harleen's nerves a little. Joan put out her hand saying, "I'm Dr. Joan Leland."
Harleen took her hand saying, "Harleen Quinzel, doctor that is. But call me Harley, everyone does."
Joan smiled, "Of course, it's a pleasure Harley."
We see Harley Quinn again, still standing by the window, "Yeah, I guess that's how it all started…I even saw mistah J that same day."
As they walked down the corridor, it's long and brightly lit with florescent lights. Joan looked to Harley, "So tell me Harley, what made you want to work here? I mean with the marks you got in school any place would be more than happy to take you."
Harleen smiled softly saying, "Well I'm not sure what it is, but Arkham just attracted me. It just has something…"
"Uh huh, well I hope you not looking to write a tell all books about certain 'super criminals' in here. Because this place isn't a resort for these people, if we can even call some of them that. It's a hospital, for the insane to be treated, not become our friends, or to be exposed."
"Joan," Harleen laughed gently, "really, is that how you think of me? I have good reasons for being here, and none of them have to do with writing books."
Joan smiled, "Well that's good, because these are hardcore psychopaths, and you are a young inexperienced doctor Harley, perfect for someone's idea of sick fun."
Harleen laughed again, "I think I can handle them Joan, I'm well trained."
Then Harleen turned to her right, and something caught her sight…It was the Joker, he was being evaluated by another doctor in a cell with a glass front. Joker sat hand cuffed, ankle cuffed and carefully watched, as a doctor across from him was asking him questions and showing pictures. Harleen stopped a second, he was very different than she had seen, even on TV. Something about him being maybe five feet away, was strange, and sent those butterflies flapping away their little wings.
That dark green hair, loose, a little curly on some ends, rather messy right then, his skin really was chalk white, and his lips a crimson red. Then he turned and looked at her, with a smile, it sent a shiver down Harleen's whole body, those stunning, deep green eyes and that smile, were there words to describe him. Grotesque, not the adjective for ugly, no but fantastic, bizarre. But ugly, no never. The sight of him was startling, or more than that even, amazing.
Then as he looked at her with eyes that could kill, he mouthed something. At first she wasn't sure what…but sure enough, it was, 'Harley.' He slowly opened his mouth, and past his crimson lips and dangerous looking teeth the dark pink tongue moved, and so did his lovely blood red lips. Harleen had stopped listing to Joan, or she had stopped talking one of the two. Joker smiled again, looking at her, almost through her, as if he wasn't looking at her at all. Then he just turned away, just turned away. Joan tapped on Harleen's shoulder, "Harley, Harley??" She had been saying.
Harleen turned back to Joan, "Yes?"
"Are you okay?"
"Yes just…just…just watching that doctor work is all." Harleen smiled.
Again we see Harley Quinn, only now she's over by the purple throne and tracing the name carved in gold at the top of it, J O K E R slowly and carefully with a delicate gloved finger, then she looks back at us, "Yeah, that was the first time I ever saw him. But the first time we met was much better, after I found that rose from him, he's always been so sweet." She sighs softly, "After I found that lovely red rose, I thought I would go see him. It's a little different than they said it in Mad Love, he's a madman, a very dangerous one, he's kept a little tighter." She laughs softly, "I think I might have fallen in love with him as soon as I walked into that cell…"
Doctor Quinzel was walking carefully up a large flight of steel stairs, the heels on the black shoes clicking softly as she made her way to 'maximum security', it was printed in bold black letters on the steel door. A guard opened it and before he could speak she said, "Hi," Pulled out her new ID and showed him, "Dr. Quinzel, may I come in?"
He looked oddly at her a second saying, "I didn't get a call from the front telling me you were coming in here, who do you need to see?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. They didn't tell you? You know Susan at the front, she probably took another five minute break without calling you. I'm going to get on her that." Harleen smiled a very friendly smile as she lied through her teeth with perfect ease.
He laughed too saying, "Yeah, Susan and her five minutes. Hey aren't you new?"
"Yeah, I am. Harleen Quinzel, but call me Harley." She said extending her hand.
He took her hand with a smile saying, "I'm Dan Bugeotto."
Harleen smiled, "It's a real pleasure Dan." And as she leaned slightly on her right foot she said, "I see why they put you on maximum security, your so built, you must have to work out all the time."
He smiled and blushed a little, "Oh well now and then."
"Oh don't be modest, you look wonderful, your wife's a lucky women."
"Oh well I'm not married." He said pushing back the reddish hair with a smile.
"No? Well that's a pleasant surprise."
Then she interjected saying, "I sure would love to talk with you for hours, but I'm going to get in trouble unless I can get in there and talk to a patient."
He then quickly opened the door all the way for her to come in and with a smile he said, "So who do you need to see?"
"Oh well, no body too important…couldn't you just give me the keys? It would be quicker that way."
"I'd love to…but I can't, it's against the rules."
Then she pouted out of her lip, "Oh darn…that's just a darn pity, well that's okay. I'll just have to work Saturday night to finish up this report."
"Well I could still go with you."
"No, no, it just won't work. This patient, see, he can only have one person in the room at a time, or he won't talk."
"Oh, who is he?"
Harleen smiled again then she sighed, "If you could give me the key, I promise I'll be really quick. You seem like such a nice guy, and I'm really starting to like you. I'd hate to loose my job because I can't get this patient to respond…"
"Well, okay. Just this once though, and make it really quick."
She grabbed the key from his hand saying, "Thanks Dan." It worked, but of course it worked, it always worked, she was a blonde dynamo, always had been, always got her way as long as a man was in charge, she wanted to laugh a little. But she didn't.
She continued down the long hall, with the flickering lights, as her shoes sounded suddenly so loud, and she could almost hear her heart beating in her chest, her red blood pumping with anticipation, fear, excitement, a thrilling sensation was running through her hot blood stream as she walked slowly down the hall, door after door with the name on a little plaque in black bold letters.
One right, passing another guard, till she was there. She saw the name at least four feet before she was there, 'The Joker'. She took a breath and fumbling slightly with the key she put it in, turned it, and herd it click, it was open. Her heart was pounding in her ears now, and she had to keep herself from shaking. She opened the door a little and looked in, it was dark, she swallowed hard and walked in shutting the door behind her. The only light was the pale moon light from the small barred window, the floor, the walls, all padded.
It made it hard for her to stand perfectly still, her heels were digging into the rubber padding. There she was, and she realized standing there, that he could kill her, he could be behind her, slash her throat, and she didn't know where he was in the room. But the excitement, the thrill, and anticipation killed the fear almost. Because if she feared him she couldn't stay in there and talk to him, it would drive her crazy.
Then she composed herself saying, "May I turn on a light?"
Before she could speak again a dim light flicked on, and there standing before her, misery turned to beauty, or madness, the Joker was standing before her. He was taller than she had expected, he was at least a head taller than she was, and he was so very close, she almost jumped or screamed. As she slowly looked up, and looked into those almost paralyzing green eyes, those eyes that were taking everything she had to look into them. There he was, closer than a foot, maybe five inches away from her, any closer and she could hear his heart beating.
His jade hair messy, and a few curls in his face, his skin had a lucid look, to it, almost a translucent look. The whiteness of his skin made his scarlet lips look deathly, bright, and show up first and foremost on his face. He did not have his signature smile on his face, only a soft grin played his lips. And Harleen realized, there standing before her was this psychopathic madman, this lunatic who murderer hundreds, maybe more with laughter, in inhuman ways, there he was. The extremity of any human being, this man that was the true extremity of a human, the very thing we fear in ourselves he let run free and ramped. He was perhaps the limit of madness, and yet Harleen couldn't really conceive the idea that he, this monster that paraded the news paper pages and tortured doctors, she couldn't conceive that right then he could kill her Yet she wasn't sure why not..
She, right then, was captured for a moment, spellbound in his eyes, then shaking it off she spoke firmly holding out the rose saying, "Might I ask how this got in my office?"
He smiled now, teeth and all saying, "I put it there."
'The world was right,' she thought, 'that smile is horrible, it's terrifying, it stretches from ear to ear…it's the perfect embodiment of madness, yet, some how, it's almost sweet…..perhaps.'
"I think the guards and Dr. Arkham would like to know you've been out of your cell."
"If you were really going to tell them, then why are you here?" Then she softly but sharply snapped the rose from her hand, a thorn on the rose cut into her flash causing a small cut. A tiny droplet of blood fell from it and hit the padded floor with the loudest splash that no one heard, and Harleen gasped slightly. The sight of blood right then, it was just unnerving, it was life, it was death, it was as red as his lips were.
The Joker laughed a little bit saying, "I just wanted to see you before I made any more plans."
"Plans about what?" She asked swallowing again.
"I just like your name is all…Harleen Quinzel." Then his smile softened and he reached out about to touch her, to brush her face or hair with his gloveless hand, but as her eyes fallowed his hand, he stopped suddenly, and brought his hand back saying, "Rework it a bit and you get Harley Quinn, or Harlequin, the very spirit of mischief and fun."
She almost smiled, almost, then she said, "Well if that's all, please stay out of my office."
"What if you invite me?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I'm looking for the right doctor, one to talk to, to listen to my story, hear all the things I can't tell anyone else."
Harleen perked up as he said that, then she turned and walked out of the cell, his laughter echoed off as she quickly made her way down the hall. Her breath was taken, her heart racing as well as her mind, and she just wanted to be in her office, door shut, to think.
We see Harley Quinn again, sitting on the arm of the chair, the room is so empty her every word seems to echo, it seems so empty, and so cold. She smiles faintly and almost painfully, " 'Take me, I am a drug; take me, I am a hallucinogenic.' That was Salvador Deli who said that, but it reminds me of mistah J…because I did, and he was, and here I am because of it. But there was true magic the first time I put on the costume, magic that I still feel every time I have it on. I was addicted to him, because he made me higher than I had ever been before. He took away my problems, and my life, and the reality I dreaded with each waking moment."
" How strange to have failed as a social creature-even criminals do not fail that way-they are the law's "Loyal Opposition", so to speak. But the insane are always mere guests on earth, eternal strangers carrying around broken dialogues that they cannot read
Dr. Quinzel sat next to Joker on the sofa, his arm around her casually and he said, "Do you really like this?"
"Like pretending to be a doctor."
"I'll have you know I'm not pretending, see that paper over there on the wall," she points, "that paper says I am a real doctor."
"If everyone went around listening to everything paper said just think of all the shit toilet paper would say." He chuckled a little at that.
Harleen laughed softly, then he said, "But really, do you like being a doctor?"
"Oh well it's my job, and my life," then she cuddled up to him, "plus I get to see you a lot." She smiled at him.
Then he looked at her with a quizzical look, "But don't you find it restricting?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, don't you wish you had the option."
"The option for what?" She asked looking loving but confused.
"Well just the option, the freedom, the freedom to take a mettle bat and repeatedly beat someone in the head with it cracking open their scull?"
She only laughed.
Then he looking at her a tad too seriously as he said, "Don't you just wish you could walk into Dr. Arkham's office and flip him off saying, 'Fuck you.' Don't you just want to tell the world to fuck off?"
Again she just laughed.
"I'm serious Harley, listen damn it," he said shaking her a little, "are you listening?!?"
"Y-yes I'm listening."
"Don't you just want to take a rusty pair of pliers and a really leaky pall point pen, and find that certain fucker that made fun of you or laughed at you and laugh in his fucking face while you show him what's really fucking funny?" He was getting all excited, then he laughed again.
"You can't want to? You can't do that? Or you can't wish that you wanted to?"
Wouldn't you just love to take a chain saw to all those boys in high school and college who fucked you and dumped you on the corner of your street and never called, wouldn't you just love to fuck them the way they fucked you, only with a fucking butcher knife!!?!" He laughed again quite hysterically like there was a very funny joke just made.
Harley didn't say anything.
He took her face into his hands and looked to her eyes and smiled, then he said very softly, "Wouldn't you love it if I could give you that option, if you could just say fuck you world, and laugh at everyone who ever laughed at you while they stair down the barrel of your shot gun?" It was so calm, so relaxed, and normal the way he said it, it was chilling.
"Yes." She said very completely and surly, as if she had been wanting to give that answer her whole life.
We see Harley again putting wrapping a women in duct tape while the women tries to scream and kick, "That was my very first taste of real life, of what it's like to be free enough to do whatever you want. I was never his victim, Bonnie was never Clyde's victim, Mallory wasn't Micky's victim, and I was never mistah J's victim. He was my salvation, he took me away from that life and gave me a new one, he gave me the option I had never been offered before in my whole life. He looked me dead in the eyes and said, 'Harley Baby, I want to give you the option to tell the world to fuck off, then kill them all with a smile, because everyone deserves that option.'
"Don't you think that's true? Everyone should at least be given that option, he never forced me to kill anyone, to break him out, he never forced me to have a blood lust, he just gave me the option, I took it."
Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives. . . . I think we're being run by maniacs for maniacal ends . . . and I think I'm liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That's what's insane about it.
Dr. Arkham's office, he is sitting behind his desk and Dr. Quinzel is sitting opposite of him with her hands in her lap. Dr. Arkham wait's a second before saying, "Dr. Quinzel…we've been having some problems with you."
She smiled a worried smile, "What do you mean?"
"Well we've had some complaints about you and certain maleficence acts."
"What do you mean doctor?"
"Well Harleen, you see, we have been…eh, well we've had some complaints about you….then there is this security tape." As he pulls a tape from under his desk and slides it over to her.
She looked terrified and nervous, and like anyone who has been caught doing something they shouldn't, "What have the complains been against me?"
"Well, we think you've been spending too much time with a certain patient…and then there was rumors, and then this tape." He picks it up again and slips it into a VCR with a small TV on top of it. Then he hits the play button.
"What is this tape of?"
"Of a session you had with a certain patient."
"You video tapped my sessions?!?"
"No, just this one, because of the rumors we heard."
"You can't tape someone with out telling them!!"
"Actually we can, we just can't record their voice with out telling them. So the tape lacks audio, ah it's coming on."
Harley looks nervously at the small TV twisting her white coat in her hands, and just hoping this isn't what she thinks it is.
It shows Harleen come into her office, Joker cuffed on a small sofa, a guard says something to her, she smiles says a few things, he looks like he's protesting, she smiles again saying something else, then she shuts the door. Joker lays down on the sofa, legs crossed at the ankles, he smiles and says something, she laughs then she puts her finger up to her mouth meaning to be quite. He laughs again, then he says something, snaps his fingers, she goes over and he sits up and pulls her down onto the sofa, where they kiss a second, before he pulls a bobby pin from her hair and processed to pick the lock on his cuffs and toss them aside.
Harleen is flushed and her cheeks are a brimming red as she said, "Doctor! No need to continue looking at this tape!"
"Oh isn't there? Care to tell me what happens after or should we keep playing it?"
Then she reaches over and hits stop, and about to eject it he grabs her wrist saying, "I think I'll be keeping that take Ms. Quinzel."
"Dr. Arkham, please, it's really not how it looks."
"Then please enlighten me, be so kind to tell me how it is?"
"Well….um, I have a very good explanation for everything." Still dignified and composed Harleen Quinzel.
"Well then what is it?"
"As soon as I tell you, you'll understand completely."
"Please Ms. Quinzel, the suspense is killing me." He says in a dull and aggravated tone.
"Okay, okay….I guess you got me, but at least it's not as bad as it looks, I mean I admit that I'm in love with the Joker, that much is true. But really it's not affecting my work as a doctor at all, I mean the idea that it could is laughable really." Then she laughs softly, "See?"
"Well one thing I know for sure is that since you've been working here he has escaped twice as much, been far more unruly, and far less punished for it…what progress are you making exactly with him?"
"Well, he hasn't killed half as many inmates, guards or doctors." She says with a hopeful smile.
"Yes that's true…but he's killed about five hundred people outside this asylum because he gets out so often, so we save twenty guards and loose a couple hundred others."
"Okay, well he's working on that whole murder thing, I just need more time."
"No, no more time. I called you in here three months ago, told you it was dangerous to spend so much time with Joker, you told me you had him under control and you just needed three more months."
"But I do have him under control!!"
"Yes I see that Ms. Quinzel, by the way you do as he asks at the snap of his finger, I see how under control you have him." He says sarcastically while getting out some papers, "Ms. Quinzel, I think you're a very nice women, and I did like you very much, but you need help, very serious help." Then he handed her a few papers.
She looked at them, unemployment forms, then she looked back at him. "Your firing me?"
"I'm sorry, but yes, you can not do this job…I also have to revoke your license as a doctor."
"Why! That's outrageous, I haven't done anything that bad!! Your ruining my whole career!"
"No Ms. Quinzel, you ruined your career, the Joker ruined your career. Go get some professional help and maybe you can get your license back."
Then she stood up, "Good day doctor." and she turned and walked out of his office slamming the door. She leaned against the door for a second, then she went to her office and with tears in her eyes she put her belongings in a small brown box, the files, the pictures, everything in the box. Her hand hovered over a picture of Joker, large print, glossy, black and white. She looked it over for a second with hurt eyes and agony, her warm salty tears tinkled down her smooth face and dropped on her desk with a small splash.
Then she grabbed the box and headed out of her office, she wouldn't even get to see Joker one more time, it would be the last time she heard her heels click on the floor, and she walked out with her head held high, with dignity and grace, and everything she always had, and she reached the door, let herself out and walked a few steps before turning around to look back on Arkham. She stood there a few moments thinking she would never be back, that she would never see Joker again…that right then the only thing she wanted was to be in there with him.
She continued to her car and took a slow drive home with tears running down her face the whole time, she parked her car in front of her small apartment and got out carrying the box with her, she fumbled with the keys until she found the right one shoving it in and turning it until the door opened, she pushed the door open with her shoulder and tossed the box to the floor slamming the door behind her. She threw herself in a near by white chair, the apartment was a plain place, whites, tans, browns, blacks, no flair or personal style just another identical drone apartment like all the others, just the perfectly normal place.
She pulled off the white high heeled shoes and threw them, not caring where they landed. She pulled the pins from her hair and threw them into the floor letting her bleached blonde hair flow gently down her small shoulders. She took of her coat and let it drop to the floor as well, right then she didn't have it in her to care where those things went, then she looked down at the floor, her coat and shoes and everything just laying there in chaos on the short cut blue carpet.
She watched them a few minutes as they just laid there, then she stood up and removed her white blouse and threw it, and an idea came to her, so she removed her skirt and did the same with it. Everything just laid there, it didn't move, it didn't complain, it was completely out of order, it was chaos in the world of clothes, no closest no hangers, no folding, nothing. Harleen stood there, her blonde hair hanging on her shoulders and down her back standing in her black panties and bra, in her cream and white living room
With the twilight sun light showing in gently from the half way open blinds, or were they half way shut?
And the idea that Ms. Quinzel had right then was something she had never thought about before, it was a new and strange idea, one she wondered if it was possible it could work. She glanced around the room a moment before she picked up the white lamp with it's small black shade and walked into the kitchen where there was tile, she grabbed the cord and yanked it from the wall. She cradled the small lamp gently in her warm and loving arms, then with one violent motion she threw it as hard as she could into the tile floor.
It shattered, it's white ceramic body crushed, small and large pieces of it's being cascaded on the floor with a loud piercing sound, and that satisfying crunch. Harleen titled her head slightly and looked at it now destroyed and broken on the floor for no reason, it would never light the room again, the light bulb busted, the lamp was nothing now. And as she looked at it's shattered remains she realized what she was hoping she would, the fact that she destroyed the lamp did not matter, it didn't matter that it was broken, that it would never light up again, it didn't matter that she broke it for no reason.
Because there was this strange, odd sense that for the first time in her life she could do things. You see it's odd feeling, especially if you never before felt it before. It's looking at the world with new eyes, in a way that you knew you can do anything you want, you might get arrested for it, you might get stopped, but the point is you can. And knowing that you can do anything you choose to do, is a very liberating and yet dangerous realization. Because right then Harley knew she could hold a 12 gauge shot gun and empty bullet after bullet into someone, not because she wanted to, or even that she would, but she realized she could.
She could take a base ball bat and break every piece of furniture in her house, it wouldn't matter, the furniture would just be broken, the world would not end, and she could, for the first time ever she knew that she could do anything in the world. It was exhilarating, and she quickly tore open the cabinet and grabbed every nice little glass plate and cup and bowl and smashed them, into the floor and the counter and even into each other. The glass cut into her hands a bit, but that didn't matter either, she wouldn't die from a few small cuts, of course she wouldn't!
And she could break everything if she wanted to! She went into her bedroom and grabbed her biggest pair of high heels and threw them out the window! You see it didn't matter, it just didn't matter anymore! She could do anything, it was amazing, then she sat down on her bed giggling and laughing, and suddenly she stopped, and now knowing she could do anything, yes anything at all, what did she really want to do?
Harley Quinn is holding a shot gun in right hand, she smiles at us and licks her shiny lips covered in black lipstick, "You probably want to know what I'm doing with this pretty baby huh?" She smirks, "Well I think I need to show you something, it's very important."
Then she turns and we see the women tied up with gray duct tape, her cries are muffled and she tried to struggle but that's no use as well. Harley holds the shot gun up and holds it to her shoulder tightly as she aims, she sets it, cla clunk. Then she says while aiming, "The point isn't that I am doing this, but that I can." The women's tangled red hair is covered in sweat and she's crying.
"You see, I don't want to kill her, in fact I'd like to untie her and set her walking with a couple bucks, but that's not how we do things around here. Mistah J left her here trusting I would take good care of her, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm a predator kinda, know what I'm saying? Bigger animals eat little animals, that's me, I kill because I have to, because she's there and I was told to, because it feels good to pull the trigger, like sinking nice big teeth into yummy flesh. I'm trained to attack on cue, it's not something I would be doing so much if any with out him, but I had the potential, we all have the potential, don't say not you. Because yes you too, from the very minute we our born we have the potential to kill, you see it's not that we have the choice to or not to kill that really separates us from the animals, it's not that we don't need to kill, lust to kill, want to at one point or another, it's just that the animals do it for food, and some of us, we do it for kicks." She giggled.
"I do this because I am trained to do so, I have been given a lust for blood, because right now it's my job. But you know, mistah J, he's not a predator, he's not either hunting or getting hunted, running or chasing. He does this, I mean he blows people's brains out and slowly saws through flash and blood and meat very slowly with a rusty old saw through bone, he does that because-"
Then she looks over at us, "Because he likes to." Then she turns back to the women and pulls the trigger. The bullet leaves the shot gun with a hot fast speed and enters her chest with a bang! Her hot sticky blood splatters on the wall and floor, Harley sets it again, cla clunk, and pulls the trigger again, cla clunk, once more. The women's head drops and her body goes limp, her clothes are soaked in her own red blood, and blood has splattered and splashed on the floor and the back of the wall, the empty shells lay at Harley's feet.
"There you see, she's dead now, I've killed her, and I have to mop the floor and clean the wall in a few minutes before the blood dries." Her high pitched voice brimming with an accent and girlish glee, "You can't understand how I could do that unless you've done it," she drops the gun, "it's a strange feeling, the freest feeling you can ever feel, cla clunk," She giggles.
Cannot bear very much reality
T. S. Eliot
Harleen laid on her bed, her mind racing, and of course she knew exactly what she wanted, her Puddin', the sweetest thing she had ever known, wanted, desired. As she laid there trying to think of just one way to see him again, to get him out, one word, one thought, one memory and instant haunted her mind, Harlequin…Harley Quinn…she leapt from her bed and ran over to the book case. Her small hands rummaging and tossing books aside, roughly opening them and flipping the pages faster and faster, her blue eyes scanning for one picture.
There it is was, the picture of a Harlequin, decked out in it's red and black with diamond pattern and jester like head piece, her small hand ran over the picture, then she threw the book out the window, got out an old jester Halloween costume that she used for a pattern, got dressed ran out and got lots of red and black spandex, then she went into her room, she had a second hand sewing machine she had been learning to use for a while now, locked the door, and didn't come out for seven hours. At four in the morning she collapsed on her bed till one p.m., then she woke up, showered, ate cinnamon toasted crunch, then she walked back into her bedroom and went over all the finial details of the costume, adding the white fluff balls to the 'ears' changing the diamond pattern, adding the white fluff around the gloves and taking it in a few more inches to fit extra snug.
She was completely done by four p.m. that afternoon, she was hungry but couldn't take the time to eat, she had this rush, all the blood in her body was pumping extra fast and the adrenaline was running high, she popped three Advil into her mouth and washed them down with coke-a-cola. Then she grabbed the costume, some old Halloween white cream make up and her black lipstick and changed. She slipped into the tight smooth spandex costume, and got chills as it ran over her body. She zipped it up, slipped the gloves over her hands and snugly onto her fingers, she slipped on the elf like shoes, perfect for gymnastics, they wouldn't weigh her down, and she knew she could move like the Olympic class gymnast that she was in the costume.
Just for fun and to test she grabbed her right leg pulled it behind her trying out a scorpion, then went into liberty, then she went down into her left splits saying, "Oh yeah, I still got it." Giggling all the while. Then she stood up and put on her white cream make up, and the black lipstick thick on her sweet tender pink lips. She smoothed the make up on her face carefully so it didn't looked smudged, and to keep it from coming off easy she used a white powder over it to set it. She smacked her lips hard, struck a pose, hand on her hip, looking sexy in her super tight costume. She ran her small gloved hands down her slender body with one burst of laughter.
Only as she looking in the mirror she knew something was missing, something to help hide her identity, not that she cared anymore, ah ha, of course, one of those party masks the domino ones, she had some stashed away some where. She looked through the drawers and the closets, till she found it stuffed away in the sock drawer. And she placed it carefully on her face, "Perrfect darhling…" and her sweet girlish laughter rang out with a new found sound, and freed it never had before.
We see Harley again, sitting on the steps where we first found her, only now her legs are drawn up with her arms around them, the room seems darker almost, it looks so big and empty, everything is polished and shimmers, dust isn't on anything, but the room looks dead and unlived in.
"I'd been waiting my whole life for that moment, knowing it would come one day, one day, yes one day I knew I would snap, I would loose it all, I would jump off the highest building and just free fall. It would be exciting, and wonderful, my heart would be pounding," she says all this with excitement in her tone and glee, "it would be wonderful, and I knew it would happen. How or when I wasn't sure, but I knew that I would, and the fall would be great, damned great. But then, then I would hit the cement, and go splat." She giggled, "But hey, it would be worth it. It was great to just loose it all, I would loose my mind a hundred million times a day if I could!…oh wait, you can't loose something you never found. Hmmm, oh well!
"But you know, I just want to say I think we should try to go every where we can at least once, I mean even going crazy, have you even been crazy? If you say no, then I suggest you try it, you just might like it. I sure do."
Well, love is insanity. The ancient Greeks knew that. It is the taking over of a rational and lucid mind by delusion and self-destruction. You lose yourself, you have no power over yourself, you can't even think straight.
Harley Quinn, then walked into her living room, knowing there was a whole world outside the door of her apartment, and that world was her play ground. She grabbed her purse and realized she was going to need equipment for the special evening, of course right then it was too early to go out and pick it up, but the time would come soon. And he suddenly wished she hadn't put on the costume yet because she was going to have to take it off, she wanted to pick up the phone and talk to her Puddin', but of course she couldn't do that.
She squealed in delight knowing how surprised he would be! He probably thought he would never see her again. She threw off the costume and washed off the make up, then she went through her closet for something different. Something that would suit the new her, something that screamed Harley Quinn. And she stood in front of the closet looking carefully over her clothes, "Hmmmmm."
Her small fingers searched threw the clothes with her bright eyes watching for something that would be just right for her current mood. And of course the thing that caught her eye, a short red dress she had tucked away in there. She pulled it out, it was short indeed, and very tight, sleeveless, not terrible low cut, but very sexy. She grabbed an old pair of black fish nets she had from Halloween. She ran into the bathroom and quickly slipped into the tight dress that oh so nicely showed off her curves and pulled up the stockings. She admired herself a minute before running back to look for shoes, the ordinary red pumps would never do, she had some sandals, ugh, and a pair of tennis shoes. She made her way through the mountain of shoes buried and stacked, till on shiny red heel poked up from way in the back, stuffed into a small shoe box.
She reached far back and pulled the box out, then she removed the lid, and brand new, three inch spiked heels, sling back, open toe, ankle strap, red shoes. They put her foot in a perfectly up right position, where it looked as if she was standing on the tip of her toe, ohhhh they were to die for. She opened her make up box filled to the brim with natural colors and gentle blends to bring out natural beauty. But with some luck she managed to find a deep red lipstick, a light colored powder and a black eye liner.
First she used the overly light powder, put on three times more black mascara, then put on the deep red lipstick very carefully, and very in the lines of her lovely lips. She meticulously lined her eyes with the black eye liner, then with the same liner she went over the outline of her red lips, it was different…but it really finished everything off with a certain flare she had always had but never really used. And there she was for the first time, the rough out line of Harley Quinn out of costume, she was proud of herself, but still there was the thought in the back of her mind that something was missing, her hair.
Her hair was just like it always was, down and brushed, but this just wasn't working for miss Quinn, no it was wrong. First she tried a pony tail, this looked very attractive, but wasn't anything different or special, then braids, ugh, a hair clip, but that did nothing, she needed something that was Harley Quinnish. Then it hit her, pig tails (sometimes called donkey ears) were perfect! She grabbed two black hair ties and with the help of a brush and some coordination she parted her hair brushed it up and tied the first one high on her head, then the second.
Everything had come together perfect, and she couldn't help but let out a ring of laughter, because for the first time she just felt like laughing for no reason…yet that alone was a reason. She grabbed her purse every credit card and headed out in her old black car, she stepped on the gas peeled out with her window down, and drove to the first national Gotham bank. She jumped out of the car slamming the door and went in her heels clicking in the hot cement she went in and up to a teller, "Hi," she had always had the accent, but everything was amplified, and giggling, and higher than before now when she talked, it even surprised her, but she liked it, "I'd like to make a withdraw."
The man smiled at her saying, "Sure, lets just see your ID and have that right away, how much would you like to with draw?"
She pulled the ID from her purse and slid it over to him and she leaned on the counter with her ankles crossed, "Hmmmm, good question, how about….uh, everything!" She smiled big.
He looked at the ID, "Oh miss Quinzel I didn't even recognize you."
"That's okay Danny boy, so how about that money?"
"Sure you going away for a while or something?" he said typing at the computer.
"Yeah, you could say that…I'm taking a much needed vacation, kinda."
"Oh where you going?"
"I'm not exactly sure."
"Hmm, well let me know when you get back. You have exactly $5,012 in your account. Do you want to withdraw it all?"
"Okay if you insist, do you want it in travelers checks?"
"No, cash. All cash."
He looked shocked, "ALL cash?"
"Yeah that's what I said."
"Okay, it's gunna take me a few minutes to get that…That's a lot of money." then he mumbled, "Must be some trip." as he walked into the back.
Harley stood there, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small square of bubble gum, she quickly unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth tossing the wrapper aside. About ten minutes later he returned, "Okay her it was."
And he started counting while handing it to her, "One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four hundred, five hundred, six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred, nine hundred, one thousand. Five hundred, two thousand…" and so on until he got to, "And twelve. There you go miss Quinzel, have a nice trip."
She greedily shoved her life saving's into her purse and started out the door, heels clicking, smacking the pink gum in her hot mouth between the red lips, swinging her hips in the tight red dress while every man in the room gave her at least one glance. Her bleached blonde hair high up in the pigtails, as she went out the door, letting it slam behind her and getting into her car, starting it up and peeling out of the parking lot, from zero to fifty in ten seconds. The screeching of tires and the smell of burnt rubber lingered in the air.
With her money and three major credit cads nicely in her purse she went shopping. Her first stop was to Spencer's where she acquired a rubber chicken, itching powder, and some other gag toys. Then she proceeded on where she bought two hand guns, smoke bombs, and some other nice things. She then returned home, got on the net and learned how to make cocktail bombs, then she loaded up the gun and played around with it a while to get a feel for it, she stuffed everything in her purse and slipped a brick into the chicken by cutting a slit it it's belly.
She had everything she needed, she slipped back into the costume and with even more care re did the make up. She stood in her bedroom, everything array. The dark light loomed in through the windows as the moon rose in the sky, and the twilight dwindled away. Harley looked around her room, it had an empty feeling, it always had. It was all just empty and forgotten, like a life that she couldn't really remember anymore and a time that had never really happened. The room looked lonely and cold, everything just seemed so empty to her all of a sudden, like the life she had lived had never even happened at all.
She grabbed the red purse with the Joker sticker placed firmly on it then she walked out of the apartment and shut the door, she reached into her purse and pulled out her keys, she looked at them all on the plain little key, then she threw them as far as she could, jumped into her car and stepped in the gas. She jerked the steering wheel turning out of the parking lot for the last time ever, and she never wanted to see that apartment again in her life.
As she drove to Arkham, a drive she knew by heart her fingers reached down and flipped on the radio in the old car, Garbage bleared through the speakers, Harley sang along with the parts she knew, "Bend me break me anyway you need me all I want is you, bend me break me, breaking out is easy all I want is you. I fall down just to give you a thrill, prop me up with another pill. If I should fail, if I should fold," she didn't know the next line and mumbled it going on, "…. I think I'm paranoid, I think I'm paranoid manipulated, I think I'm paranoid and complicated. Bend me break me anyway you need me, all I want is , bend me break me, breaking out is easy, all I want is you. I think I'm paranoid, I think I'm paranoid. Bend me break me, anyway you need me all I want is you, bend me break me, breaking out is easy all I want is you. Steel me, deal me, anyway you heal me, make me take me, you can never change me, love me like me come ahead and fight me. Please me tease me, go ahead and leave me. Bend me break me anyway you need me, as long as I want you baby it's all right. Bend me break me anyway you need me as long as I want you baby it's alright." The music ended and a song she had never heard before started through.
She rolled into Arkham's parking lot, and looked into the rearview mirror touching up the black lipstick, and wondered if she should have worn red, or maybe red out line black inside, or what about black out line red inside, she might have to try those she thought. She sighed saying, "Okay, okay take it easy girl. Everything will go just as smoothly and easily as you always dreamed," she took a breath, smiled brightly into the mirror and said, "I'm comin' J-" She stopped, "Joker…..hmmm, should I call him boss now, I mean besides callin' him Puddin', or Joker, or Mistah J……yeah!" She laughed, "Your Harley girl is comin' mistah J."
She stepped out of the car, the cold night air made goose bumps all over her skin under the spandex costume. And with the purse in hand she reached Arkham's door, there she was again…
We see Harley Quinn again, she's sitting in the throne, well she's on her back and her legs are on each arm and she's looking at us from upside down, she smiles brightly and places her hands on the arm rests and her feet on her tip toes pressing against the arms she propels herself up doing a backwards tuck in the air, landing on her feet, she turns around now standing in front of the chair. She smiles again and gently bites her bottom lip saying, "Well you know what happens after I go into Arkham. I mean you read Mad Love right? So I go in there, fight off the guards single handedly, use the cocktail bomb to distract everyone and start a fire, snatch the keys unlock mistah J, and stand there saying," She strikes a pose with her hand on her hip, "'Hiya Puddin, say hello to your new improved Harley Quinn.'"
She breaks out laughing, "Yeah, yeah so you know that part, so do I. It's a great part, it's my first anything as Harley Quinn. Oh you should have seen the look on mistah J's face, I mean there's his quaint blonde shrink standing there in this getup with a pop gun in her hand! I think he loved it." She trails off with giggles
"But a time I bet you don't know is the first time I ever killed. Don't think so badly about it, we never kill innocent people…because no people are innocent."
Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder.
But he kept her, he had decided he would keep her till she got boring or difficult. She reminded him of a dog, like a little black and red puppy that followed him home one day, he tried to send her away countless times, tried to kill her once so far even just to see what might happen and how she might take it. He kicked her, and starved her and constantly threw her out but she just kept coming back and scratching on the door and licking his face and begging, her ears pouncing as she ran after him.
So he eventually figured he would just keep her, give her a nice little box with some old rags, wash her off and give her a nice bowl of rancid dog food. Now it was time to see if she could learn tricks, who knows she might turn out to be of sure use. So there they were, loaded guns and Joker toxin, the boys loading the money into bags. They had to act quick, he didn't really want to run into the cops or the Bat yet, that might be next time. He was leaning against the counter looking at his new watch, Harley had lifted it for him just last week.
She had a small gun in her right hand, and the boys had the shot guns. The air conditioning had clicked on and cold air was coming down from the vents in the ceiling. The people were quivering and crying and begging, but none the less they were acting quite well no one had tried to get up and be a hero or anything. This disappointed Joker, and he was feeling bored. His eyes glazed over his audience as they lay out on the ground with their faces into the floor. He smiled and looked over at his Harley, "Harley baby I was thinking, this audience is really out of control don't you think?"
"No, I thought they were doing good actually, they've done everything we told them."
"Yeah, yeah I know. But there whimpering is annoying me."
The one man got upon his knees saying, "Please don't kill me, don't kill all of us. I just want to get back home with my family."
Joker walked over to him, "I never said I was going to kill anyone…what made you assume that?"
"B-because you always kill someone…."
"Oh I do?"
"Y-y-yes." he was quivering as tears rolled down his face.
"Your right I do! I almost forgot, thanks for reminding me!"
Then he pulled a gun from his front jacket and cocked it, the man was crying, "Please, please don't kill me I have a family."
Joker smiled, "Oh don't worry, hey what's your name?"
"Well Mat, don't worry I'm not going to kill you." Then he walked over to Harley, "She is."
Harley Quinn looked at Joker surprised, "I am?"
"Yes sweetie pumpkin, your going to take this gun," He handed it to her, "I've already cocked it for you, so all you have to do is aim and pull."
Her bottom lip was quivering and she looked worried, she kept her hand from shaking as she took the gun from him, her gloved hand brushing his slightly, it sent a chill through her body. She held the gun firmly as she could and aimed it, for a second she was sure she could do it. But as she looked at the man crying, he was pleading for sympathy, not today he said, it was his daughter's birthday, not today he was begging. She felt her right index finger on the trigger, she bit into her bottom lip and took a breath.
Joker looked at her, "What are you waiting for?"
She looked at him with her big blue eyes, "Puddin," she said softly, "can't we kill someone else?"
She walked up very close to her and looked down at her saying, "No. Him, it's very easy Harley, so do it already."
The man threw himself at her feet and claps his hands around her small ankles, she jumped back and let out a little scream as he looked at her, "Please…" was all he said through his whimpers.
Harley held the gun, and aimed at him again, her hands visible shaking, she looked at Joker once again with a pleading look.
He grabbed the gun from her and smacked it into her face rubbing off some of her make up, then he said looking directly into her eyes, "I knew you couldn't do it." Then he held the gun up to the man's head and pulled the trigger, peaces of his face splattered on the floor and his blood sprinkled on Harley's costume as she stood there. Tears weld up in her eyes, not for the man, but because she let her Puddin' down, she failed him, she felt so small and so bad. She ran into the back as a tear trickled down her smeared white make up.
Joker looked off as she ran, thinking what a baby she was and he couldn't believe he ever got mixed up with her, then he yelled off to his boys, "Come on hurry up."
All the people were crying, and some were screaming, they had begun to panic at the sight of the dead man. He shot a few more who tried to run out and escape, as he waited there. Three big guys with black suits on and white cream make up came from the back with several trash bags full of money, one said, "Okay boss we got it."
Then Joker said, "Lets get out of here."
One guy looked around saying, "What about Harley boss?"
"What about her?" Joker said, still with a look of disappointment in his eyes.
As they headed toward the doors, Harley returned from the back holding one of the boys shot guns in her hands, she cocked it and held it up to her shoulder and began shooting shell after shell into the remainder of people. The ones she missed, she repeatedly shot at till she hit them, once she looked around and saw them all laying there dead and bloody, a massacre, blood pouring from their corpses and puddles of blood formed on the floor. She stepped into a big puddle and dropped the shot gun at her feet, it splashed into the blood.
Joker swallowed hard as he looked at her, the boys had wide eyes and shocked looked on their faces, they all stared as she stood there. A smile formed on her face, and she walked towards Joker leaving bloody tracks behind her, she walked up close to him with a big smile playing her lips, her make up still smeared from where he hit her. Then she said, "That was fun, lets do it again!"
At first Joker's expression was a look of shock, then he said rubbing the place on her face he had hit with his thumb, "Maybe your worth something after all." And a big smile spread across his face. Then they walked out of the bank, Harley's heart leapt, to hear something like that, no matter how small it was, to know that he was happy with her, that he was proud of her and her massacre. At first she had run back there to cry, and leave, but as she sat there a second her eyes met the shot gun on the counter as the boys looted the vault, and she knew it was a simply choice, her Puddin' or those people…her Puddin' or her soul, her Puddin or her morals, her Puddin;' or a life of sound sleep.
It was a very easy choice. And as she unloaded those bullets into all those people, there screams disappeared, everything they said was wasted on her ears, she focused on making her Puddin' happy, of making him proud of her, if she never slept again, if a day didn't go by that she didn't feel guilty, if she burned in hell, better so, because a heaven with out him wouldn't be heaven at all, and she kept that in her heart every time she pulled the trigger.
We see Joker sitting behind a desk at Arkham Asylum, while the doctor is tied with bed sheets and laying on the sofa for patients, Joker is holding the doctors pen and toying with it as he's relaxed back in the leather chair. He smiles saying, "Harley, Harley is a strange girl." He takes a piece of paper and starts to fold it into a paper air plane, he takes a tack from in the desk and breaks off the sharp metal end and sticks it into the nose of the plane, then he aims it at the doctor and throws it. It hits him in the face and the tack stick in his check, the doctor squeals out in pain, "I'm starting to think Harley might be crazy." He looks at us and breaks out into hysterical laughter.
Then he sat up in the chair and leaned on his elbows, with his chin resting on his clasped hands, "But seriously, she's like no one else ever, and I mean that. I'm not saying I feel anything for her," he laughed again, "don't mistake what I say…I just think that she has her moments, I mean sure there are days when I would like to see her head impaled upon a stick." Then he looked real serious for a second saying, "But out of everyone that's ever worked for me, she's the only one who's still alive." Then he looked away.
Poison Ivy sat on her knees, with a white scarf tired around her hair as she worked in her garden, shovel in hand, she was working with some very healthy looking lilies. Her tinted green skin, and gentle green eyes, with her red hair falling over her shoulders. She looks up at us after a few more minutes with the long steamed flowers, "Harley is a dear friend. If you want to know what I think of her, just look at all the times I've brought her in from the street when she's been dumped by the Joker." She winces at his name.
"I care for Harley as a friend." She started back at the flowers saying, "Harley's a real person, with real feelings. Harley has a heart and soul," she looks back at us taking off the scarf letting her hair tumble out, "I don't meet many people that have that. Harley might be able to kill without a reason, she might do some awful things, but everyone does awful things. They destroy the rain forest everyday and, they murderer and call it industry. They sleep soundly at night with money in their pockets, Harley might be a murderer with money in her pockets….but Harley seldom sleeps soundly."
Home is the place where, when you have to go
They have to take you in.
Joker and Harley are struggling against several big guards as they are being dragged into Arkham. The morning sun just coming up after a night of running ramped, cop cars around and parked, commissioner James Gordon is getting into his car. The night fades away as the sun dawns down upon them, and Arkham looms ahead of them. Harley's head is low and her struggling has stopped, her pig tails are looking lowly and her make up is still on her face and smeared a little.
Joker is laughing and spits at two guards and makes an attempt to bite one of them, Harley looks over at her Puddin' with a sad smile knowing she might not see him for a while, her heart sinks…but she knows that even though they have to be apart, they will be in Arkham together. And though Arkham holds agonizing memories for some, as they take Harley in a sense of happiness fills her because she remembers her first day, the first time she saw the Joker, the first time they kissed, she remembers every little moment that happened hidden by those mad house walls.
And she knows that, the strange irony that makes her smile through her tears is that had she never come to Arkham in the first place she would never be returning. Arkham, in a sense their home, it is not only the core of all madness for her, but the heart of her love, of the beginning and the end. It is a sanctuary, a place to escape the world for a little while, and all the insanity the surrounds the world and go to the very center of madness. Arkham is home sweet home, and she knows that no matter how many times she leaves, she will always return there, she and her Puddin' belong there.
We see Harley again, this time she's in a different room, the walls are covered in pieces of glass, even though it's all glass it's not one single piece, but shards and bits all together. The floor is blood red and there is a velvet black Victorian sofa in the middle of the room, laying delicately on it she smiles gently, "I don't know what else there is. I mean sure there are a million tiny insignificant moments that you could know, a million tiny pieces. A hundred get away drives, five dozen amusing murder stories, a trillion meaningful moments that have happened. But I learned something really important from mistah J, something that I'll always carry with me. Something that really made me."
She stands up, and pulls off the headpiece, and peels the mask from around her eyes, she lets them drop from her hand to the floor. She removes her gloves and lets them drop as well, then she takes her right hand and runs it down her face smearing all the white cream make up, and revealing the peach colored flesh underneath, as the black lipstick on her lips run into the white and pink of her tender lips is seen, she then unzips the costume and peels it off her body and pulls it off along with the shoes laying them in the same pile with the rest.
She has on peal white thong under wear that cling tightly to her form, and a seamless peal white bra. Her body was in seemingly perfect condition, and toned nicely, if she had ever been hurt you couldn't tell now, unless you looked closely. Then you'll see the scar on her lower right ribcage, and another small scar of the upper part of her left arm, each scar is a just a light colored almost noticeable imperfection. She has one on each shin, and a slightly long scar on the back of her left calf probably from a knife. Scar from a bullet just above her right shoulder blade.
She placed both hands of the floor and kicked up into a hand stand, her body was tight and hallow, the perfect handstand, she still had it. Her toes pointed, and her breathing was normal, her pigtails dangled, and as the blood rushed into her face she bridged out of it then stood up from the backbend. She looks at us again saying, "This is me, the real me. Not the costumed me, but me Harley Quinn."
Her form was reflected in broken fragments in the mirror as she stood there, she sat down dully on the sofa with her legs crossed and her back arched as her hands supported her from behind her. She smiles a big smile saying, "I don't need that costume like I once did or that mask, they don't make me Harley Quinn anymore. I can look in the mirror now and see the broken fragments of myself and say, 'I am Harley Quinn'. Something I have always desired to say, I mean I was always Harley Quinn. But I mean to become so perfect for mistah J, to be able to do what he has been trying to teach. It's taken me a long time to learn it, and he had to break me down and reassemble me for me to learn it."
"I love him and I know he misses me, he might not show it, but he does. He can't get close to people, he won't get close to me. It might be because he's unfeeling and emotionless, it might be because he doesn't or can't love anyone, maybe he just doesn't want to. Or maybe it's because he knows, if you get close to someone you give them power, the power to hurt you. He doesn't want to hurt anymore, he'd rather hurt everyone else and keep the world so far away from him and his personal world that no one will ever hurt him. By being that way he's hurting me, maybe so he won't have to love me. I'd never hurt him, not ever, and he'll see this eventually, he'll see that I love him and I'd die for him…even if it happens to be the day I die for him. But one day I know he will see that, he will get close to me if I hang in there. Right now an insult from him is wonderful because at least it's from him to me.
"And after all these years with him, all these achy years, all these affectionless and lonely years of heart broken nights and shattered hopes I can still smile and still laugh. I learned that happiness isn't getting your way, or being in heaven or bliss, happiness isn't that moment you've been waiting all your life for, and it's not your dream come true, happiness isn't happily ever after, it's not the perfect life or the perfect day or a wonderful romance. It isn't being famous or having the world love you, Marilyn Monroe just wanted to be wonderful, and wasn't she? But she was never happy…happiness isn't being wonderful at all.
And with a big smile on her face she says, "Happiness is the ability to smile through your tears and your agony, the ability to smile after years and years of broken promises and lonely nights. Happiness is when you can laugh when your dieing inside, when you laugh your heart out while crying your heart out. Happiness is just the ability to smile and laugh despite your misery…
She giggles and lays down on the sofa with her head hanging off and her hair dangling, a big smile on her face with bright blue eyes, she lays her hands on her toned flat stomach, and with her legs up and leaning against the top of the sofa, she looks at us with pose and still dignity, still flair and everything she's always embodied, with laughter in her voice and a smile on her lips she says, "Mistah J taught me to be happy."
There is that in me—I do not know what it is—but
I know it is in me . . .
I do not know it—it is without name—it is a word
It is not in any dictionary, utterance, symbol . . .
Do you see O my brothers and sisters?
It is not chaos or death—it is form, union, plan—it
is eternal life—it is Happiness.
Disclaimer: the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy and all related characters are property of DC comics. But the story in it's self is property of mistah J's girl, the author.
©copyright Mistah J's girl 2001