Blood Red Water
Plot: The Joker thinks about his relationship with Harley as she lays motionless beside him. edited version
Author's Note: This is my first ever published-to-the-web JokerxHarley work. I had others but I've lost them over time and just re-wrote this one under the title of a Wolfgang Parker song… Unfortunately, a friend posted my very rough draft of my story on the site before I had a chance to edit and make changes, so those who have read it and reviewed it's original copy, thank you for noticing the errors xD lol
Author's Request: I'm definitely one for ideas, but I do often have issues getting those across since I tend to have lots of typos (I was born with a gene that increases my ability to create errors in writing) so if you're interested in helping me out a little by reading my work and fixing any errors, please send me a message.
She fucking screwed it up again.
It was a simple punch line and he was so gracious to let her even think about the plan while he was concocting it, let alone dream of giving the ol' Bats, the one-two. The trade seemed fair, to be honest though; she would play the lead role and he would work behind the scenes, letting her have her moment in the spotlight as Batman knocks her face in, in return for her exile from his bedroom resulting in a good night's sleep if Batman was done away with or not.
Quite obviously, the final shots coming from his broad weren't expected from the look on his face but it seems what the Batman did expect, was for her to bring the plan to grinding halt with some sort of blunder as she had done every other time before – leading or not. They lived for another day, another time, another scuffle and kept themselves out of Arkham for at least another night and at the bare minimum, they had that to be thankful for.
Rain outside fell steadily down to the dirty streets of Gotham's forgotten underbelly and pattered heavily upon the windowsill. It was cool outside, but not quite cold until the wind shifted in from the harbour, making the Joker shiver slightly. He tried to sit up but was pulled back by the weight of Harley's lithe body on his arm. It was then that he realized that she was naked…and in the middle of the floor.
And so was he.
He couldn't remember how they ended up in that condition for it was always a trick and a half dealing with Harley. She constantly wanted attention, affection, domination, sex, and what-have-you; so when attempting to give her some sort of punishment that would not just leave her miserable, but also him satisfied without having to get the hide-out in a state of complete disorder because he kicked her out again…he usually found Harley and himself naked somewhere.
Looking down at her curiously, he could feel a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he caught a glimpse of the pool of blood that had collected near her cracked and swollen lips, still smudged with her black lipstick. Even with that blood on her face and in her hair and the bruises freckling her cheeks, he had to admit, his dame was quite a looker. Seeing the faint outline of his hands still lingering about her neck where he had attempted to strangle every last gasp of life she had left, daring her to speak another word while spitting curses, plastered that smile on his face for good.
The smile turned to a wicked grin, however, as his gaze followed the curves of her body, looking at the other thousands of tiny scabs, cuts and bruises and then finally rested upon that scar. Her very first physical reminder of who owned her.
Back in Arkham, while she was still a doctor, they had a little rendezvous in her office. He had gotten a little over zealous, however, and nearly cost himself the adoring hench-wench he had right beside him.
It was thrilling to finally be with someone again, especially with someone who stroked him so nicely – or his ego that is. She knew he was a genius. There was no need for him to explain it or try to re-tell a joke. She understood that his word was final, that no other could ever be like him. Doctor Harleen Quinzel was his. During the heat in her office, he decided to let her know that. He grabbed a letter open her off her desk and as they kissed, wriggled and explored each other for the first time, he carved, "J" into the tender flesh, right below her hip.
She panicked though. He didn't have her completely as he had thought he did. Even after he had licked and sucked the blood off of the sensitive area, and worked her up to an orgasm, it took about a month of coaxing and charming for her to even allow him to sit next to her.
That was his last mistake he had ever made with her.
Other than possibly this night.
He draped his arm over her waist and began to trace over the scar there, carefully, slowly, tenderly. She was his. Forever. She could never leave…
Even as he began to doodle new cuts and lines in his mind, dragging his finger along her smooth skin, and pulled her closer to him, Harley did not budge. Not even a delicate butt wiggle to snuggle herself into him.
Perhaps his play and punishment went a little too far this time. Perhaps she's broken.
No, it wouldn't be too much of a loss if she were gone but there's all that auditioning for a new girl and waiting… She better be alive. Oh, she better hope she's alive or a new arrangement of limbs were awaiting her. They had another heist in a week and there was no time to hire someone else for the distraction bit…
The Joker let out a sigh of relief as he nestled his face into the nape of her neck. He could feel a faint heart beat.
It was unclear how long it would last, if it managed to keep up or how long it would take for it to give up – but her heart was still fighting at the moment and that's all that mattered. At least for now, there would be no auditions. He pulled his head up slightly and looked at his girl's battered face once more before giving her cracked lips a tender kiss.
"Good morning, Harley-girl," he whispered into her ear with a menacing grin.
There was a pause as he looked her over one last time before releasing himself from the dead weight of her body, got up, and walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day leaving her still motionless – but alive.