Disclaimer: No. :-P
There is something extraordinarily beautiful about the Joker. His scraggly hair, his swollen mouth, the chaos hymn he sings while Gotham burns around them. More than that Harley loves his body. Rendered headless, he might've been anyone. Not bodybuilder or model or criminal. Only human.
Except her attraction to J isn't human at all, is it? He groans over dying men the same way he does during sex. A low, throaty growl interrupted by hiccups of laughter; more innate than voluntary. Which isn't to say he doesn't enjoy it.
Then again, Harley isn't always sure she does. Puddin' tries so very hard to torture her. A slap, a slam, a window toss or strangle hold. Howling with rage (mirth disguised as rage?) before suddenly requesting coffee with a kiss. It might be a test.
She knows he'd let her leave at any time, but they're partners. Always throwing ideas back and forth, feeding on creativity, improvising schemes, living dreams… all that jazz. They giggle at bad jokes together. They do exciting, stupid things for no reason besides them being exciting and stupid.
Plus, he needs her. Harley saw him cry once and knew enough not to speak. Just be there. Used her hands for something productive without interrupting. If he had something to say he'd say it.
In her imagination, that made a difference. But she cries more and more herself nowadays and can't move so well anymore. Her ability to keep up is seeping out like blood on the sheets. He really takes better care of his knives. There are scars on her legs from where he'd sliced them open.
Harleen's smile has become hideous, so naturally she cuts it off.
Author's Notes: Decided to mess around a tad with Harley/Joker, though I imagine this as just one possible facet to look at 'em through. Dunno if Revelation's my favorite fic or whether the character interpretations feel exactly right to me, but I'm glad it's done.