Tonight, You're Gonna Break Your One Rule

The rest of that night was a blur as the Joker watched over my breakdown, my sanity seeping away through the broken furniture, until I got up and, the room deathly silent and empty, crawled into my side of the bed, the plush covers comforting me so I drift off to sleep.

A few hours later I hear the door open and the Jokers soft humming fills my brain. I was still angry with him but his soft tune soothed me, and I find my breathing a little more even.

He stops humming as he shuts the door behind him, and starts murmuring to himself, "No... no... something… different... no, Harley. Different... dark... Precious... no, no, no, no indeed, no."

I can hear the crinkle of his shirt and the soft hiss of the fabric as it slips from his body. I exhale softly, my fingers twitching, until a soft breeze cools my bare legs, my body only clothed in an oversized shirt. I twitch my legs, muscles starting to ache, and the bed dips behind me. The covers settle again and he seems to radiate warmth, soothing my aching body head to toe.

It's silent, both our breathing synchronised, in then out in long, even lungfuls, and I find myself somehow still angry with him. Silence drags out, breathing even and low. My fingers start tapping on the mattress, the contact making a small dull noise, something oddly comforting.

"Precious..." His voice is as soft as the hiss of his shirt, and his breath hits the back of my neck, somehow, even though he seems a million miles away.

The ruffle of the covers stirs me so I'm more awake, and I jump violently as his bare arm snakes round my stomach. He pulls me back against him, but as he does I twist round, and my fist connects with his face. I start struggling and he doesn't let me go. I keep struggling, and catch him across the cheek a few times, until he finally grabs both of my wrists. The only light is a beside table lamp, barely turned on so I can just about see him lick his lips. I end up with a knee either side of his stomach, as he pins my wrists either side of him against the mattress.

His eyes shine so bright I don’t think I can look at them, or I tell myself that's the reason. I hang my head and struggle a little just to make my point.

"Look at me Precious," He purrs, his breath washing over me. It smells of the usual smoke and oil, but this time more predominately whiskey. I keep my head hung, "Look. At. Me." His voice is still as soft but far more authoritative, and it's like I can't help myself. I meet his eyes, and we both lick our lips.

His eyes dart from my left eye, to my right eye, as if he's searching my brain and delving deep in my spirit. And this time I don’t stop him. He stops, as if he's found what he's looking for, and smiles widely.

He throws his head back in laughter so loud it almost hurts my ears, and his Adam's apple moves up and down with his convulsing throat. His skin is luminous in the soft orange light, and somehow, I get the overwhelming urge to kiss his throat. I lean down, my breath washing from between open lips, just as he looks back at me. I move back, just a little.

"Definitely." He tugs my hands so I'm a little closer to him, "You've changed, definitely. There's something in you, something dark and horrible. Your eyes... they're hollow, and yet so full of mystery. You hate now. You can feel hate, cant you, hm?" I nod, my body beyond my control now, paralysed by his gaze, "Proper hate." He breathes deep, "Amazing, isn’t it? Yes, yes, definitely there. All because of me." He giggles again, this time holding my gaze, and I notice his makeup is slipping from the long day, and I start to see the human underneath.

"You're a freak now Precious, just like me."

I breathe out at the same time he does, and our breath mingles, making the others body erupt into goose bumps, "Mister J..."

His hands leave my wrists and are at the back of my neck as quickly as mine are in his hair. Our lips meet in a torrent of long endured loneliness and red paint. My scars scream in pain and sprout in red blossoms again, but both our minds only register the other person's lips. He rolls us over so I'm underneath him and we start kissing a little more, suddenly far more needing of the other person. My hands snake down his chest, far more toned than I'd imagined beneath all those layers. It wasn't muscle, no, just toned, and smooth. I press my hands against him, needing the feeling of someone's flesh against me.

His red lipstick tastes thick and bitter, but our lips still lock in a furious battle as we clutch each other closer. My brain had given up, my body simply reacting on animal instinct.

A small gasps slips through his smeared lips, and I clutch him closer, nails digging in. His broken and dirtied nails tangle even more in my cherry red hair, our lips tugging at each other's in a flurry of red.

I pull away and he gasps a little again. My own lips are smeared with red paint as I lean down rest my lips against his neck. I breathe in deeply and his scent intensifies, that mystery aftershave and smoke filling my brain. That smoke seems to blur my vision so all I can see, smell, feel and taste is him. I kiss my way down his neck and he throws his head back, letting a gorgeous moan through his smeared lips.

His cold hands slide under my shirt and pull it over my head, flinging it aside as our lips meet again. His fingertips drag up and down my back as my hand reaches up and wipes away his makeup with soft fingertips. He makes a small noise of disapproval, but I kiss him a little harder as I finish wiping away his makeup down one side of his face.

I see the human beneath, see Jack, I suppose, as I gasp in rapture as we shed our remaining clothes. The only noises were our little moans of approval and our heavy breathing.

Soon, the mattress creaks from not being used for a long time, and makeup starts running across our skin along with our sweat. I pull back at gasp for breath, my lungs retching to keep up with my body pulsing and pushing to its limits.

My lungs finally catch up, maybe an hour later, as I fall back onto the sofa, bathed in makeup and sweat, and the back of my hand wipes away the smear of red.

"Yes," I hear the Joker breath, "Definitely much darker." His lungs struggle too, as they tear for cool air. He wraps his arm round me and pulls me closer to him, "We'll have to test it out tomorrow..."

Somehow, I know what he means, and in my exhausted state my brain lets a few words slip through my lips, words I've never said to anyone else, "I've killed."

I sit up a little and the Joker sits up too, looking me right in the eye, deeply interested. I stop myself when I realise what I'm saying, but my brain suddenly feels the need to spill out all this information I'd kept secret for the longest time.

I close my eyes and let myself relive all those memories for the first time since they'd happened.

"When I was fourteen I had a boyfriend. I was a rebel kid, and so was he. We went out for about eight months, and we were... having sex. And I thought," I breathe out, "I thought we'd be together forever."

I let out a hissed sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. The Joker holds me a little tighter and I can feel curiosity flooding from his every pore.

"He was cheating on me. I found them, they didn’t see me. It hurt, really hurt. And suddenly I wanted revenge," I laugh a little to myself, "Prom night, in my new dress and new shoes, I went to a party I knew they'd be at."

"I found them, giggling, laughing and dancing, and... I shot them."

The Joker makes a noise of surprise and his broken nails dig into my shoulder, "Go on." His voice is barely audible above all the shouting in my head. I clench my eyes shut and recall every sickening detail of the scene.

Tears start slipping down my cheeks, "Blood flooded all over my shoes, and the both of them lay there crumpled. The gun smoked it my hand and I just stood there staring. Everyone was screaming and pushing past me. I heard sirens and ran. My shoes dug into my ankles," I sob a little and he pulls me into his chest, "So I left them, and ran and ran until I hid in the back streets. I'd heard of Gambol, and he took me in, found me covered in blood and hysterical."

I look up at him, "I killed, Mister J, I'm a killer."

He stares into my eyes, and ice then fire pours down my spine. I bury my head in the crook of his neck, "I know Precious, sleep, Precious, sleep..."