Skye Aerrow Says: I've never written any Batman fics, but I figured since I'm so addicted to the category, I might as well give it a shot.


The Game; The Reward

It was a cruel game he played with her; a cruel, cruel game. They both knew it, they both acknowledged it, but neither of them really saw anything wrong with it.

From the Joker's perspective, it was an almost beautiful thing. He was the Daddy; she, the giggly little girl. It was only natural he discipline her. Besides that, Harley was his toy, his doll, his plaything. Everyone expected him to throw her around a little. Or a lot, depending on his mood.

Oh, and he did have his moods. Black, raging moods that made him shout, made him swear, made him break things. Moods that drove his long, white fingers to leave big, purple bruises on the dame's sweet flesh. Moods that reminded both of them that he was still as much of a psychopath as he'd ever been, despite Arkham's efforts to change him. Whenever he was in one of these moods, he'd punch her, slap her, or kick her. He doubted she enjoyed any of the pain, but smart girl that she was, she never cried, never screamed, never made a single sound. And what amazed him most of all was that she never even tried to run away from him. Ever.

Harley had somehow gotten used to her Puddin's violent outbursts. The kicks, the slaps, and the punches were so frequent that it was a wonder the bruises ever healed. A day without a beating was a blessing; two or three days, a kind of reward.

No reward on Earth could compare to the kind the Joker gave her for playing his game, though. When she surrendered herself to him and his rage, submitting herself wholly, no questions asked- that was when he really rewarded her. When she took the blows silently, when she let him beat her without protest, when she simply stood there, taking it all, he offered her his love, his attention, his praise.

That was why she never ran from him. Ever.

Even when the Joker's elegant hands closed around Harley's neck and strangled her, she hardly even blinked. A few moments of agony, panic knotting her stomach, and then, she received the reward. Sometimes, he'd hold her throat until her vision swam with black. Sometimes, he'd even let her pass out. Then, when she woke up, he'd hit he again.

All the abuse was worth it. All the torment was a burden she was more than happy to bear.

She'd go through hell just to have the chance to be called His.


Skye Also Says: In case anyone's wondering, this is the comic book Joker, not Ledger's amazing portrayal. The Dark Knight was incredible, but I just can't see that Joker doing anything with Harley Quinn.

I dunno why.