AN: Oh, this one has a prologue; how fancy.

Nah, but my paranoia is in bloom so here's some more shit I found on my computer. This one has Joker!Blaine and Harley!Kurt but with some changes to their personalities (mostly Kurt's, because the typical Harley routine is more of an act for him than his actual personality).

Behold my working summary: I don't even know. Blaine somehow turned into a Mark Hamill Joker meets Heath Ledger Joker meets 80s mob boss thing who kinda loves Kurt whereas I see the actual Joker as just really possessive and I don't know what I did I'm so sorry.

It's accurate you must give it that.

It's in a dark warehouse, their club. It's dark and isolated, despite being in the city. Abandoned warehouses line the north shore of the harbor, and they've been here for so long that nobody bothers to keep an eye on them.

Well, nobody except for one person, but Kurt doesn't like to think about him. He wouldn't bother with a card game anyway; there's got to be something involving guns that take precendence.

Kurt should probably bother with the cards. He glances down at his hand and smiles. The three girls sitting around the dimly lit table with him all groan and fold. Kurt smirks at them and holds up a hand of mismatched, worthless cards.

"Oh fuck you," Santana exclaims. "Just fuck you."

At the same time, Kurt can hear Quinn curse under her breath and Rachel gasp. That's what they get for underestimating his ability to bluff. Yeah, he's got a reputation for being a little ditzy, but these three should know him better by now. Honestly, they've all met Blaine; do they really think he could organize all the heists he pulls off by himself?

Well, he probably could if he wanted to, but he'd rather screw around with his stupid little society he refuses to let Kurt anywhere near, and trusts that Kurt can handle the details.

But yeah, if Kurt wanted a reputation that included his brilliance, he'd have it. It's just easier to let other people think he's less capable than he really is.

"Just take your money, you brilliant bastard," Santana snaps at him, but there's a small smirk on her face that lets him know she isn't really mad.

"Sorry, ladies," he says, smiling at them with false-innocence that just gets him more glares as he scoops the money they'd piled high in the center of the table into his arms. "Guess I'm just a natural!"

"You always have been," Santana says with a sigh, glaring at the empty spot on the table.

"I really wonder about you two," Quinn mumbles from behind her new hand, a small fown on her face.

"Shut it, fish breath!" Santana bites back instantly.

"Ladies, ladies," Kurt admonishes, "let's not let a fight ruin our night!"

"I think a bit of a tussel would improve my time." Santana's voice is smooth and challenging, and Quinn gives a threatening hiss in return. Kurt just sighs at them, fiddling with his sleeve. He's had enough arguing lately, more than enough really.

Enough to last a lifetime.

"Oh my god!" Rachel suddenly exclaims. "Kurt, what happened?"

His eyes shoot to Rachel's face, where he can see her eyes locked on his wrist. He glances down, cursing himself and tugging his sleeve down before the other two can see. Rachel might not get it right away, but Quinn and Santana would take one look and know.

"Nothin' you busybody," he growls. "It's just part of the job, not that you'd know."

Santana cackles at that. Rachel's the only person at the table yet to make it in the under world. Yeah, Quinn had a rep for being a bit too soft for the killing, but when you take the level of skill she has at her job and get a look at her in all that tight leather, it's not hard to see why she gets in on the big heists. Santana's harder than Quinn; Quinn has little time for bullshit but Santana has no time at all.

That's probably why she and Blay never got along; he's too spontaneous and racionally irrational for her and he…well he thinks she's a boring bitch on one of their good days. There've been fights over him before, full out brawls where 'Tana's ended up with a bullet in her body and Blaine's chest was ripped to shreds from thorns. More often though it's petty stuff, like Blaine waking up with a rash from something she'd stuffed in his underwear or her coming home to find a Hummer running in her yard with the emmision pipe pointing straight at her garden.

Kurt tries not to laugh when that stuff happens, but he's not very good at it. He's been liberated by his sweetheart for too long now to be able to stop the laughter when it comes. Blaine gets mad at him sometimes, so mad that it's scary, but in the end Kurt knows he loves him anyway.

He used to, at least. Now he's not so sure and everything from earlier comes rushing back, hitting him in the chest with crippling emotion.

AN: See? It really was prologue. I'm pretty sure you know who Quinn and Santana are, but SUPER MAJOR MEGA BONUS POINTS if you can guess who Rachel is (by using process of elimination I guess).

Come at me with you suggestions and requests. *Stands with arms wide open like Tony Stark because I am the Invincible Iron Man for until I wake up and my confidence is gone.*