The Last Laugh

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN BATMAN, THE JOKER, HARLEY QUINN OR ANY OTHER BATMAN CHARACTERS MENTIONED. SOME SCENES FROM MOVIE, OR TRIED TO BE FROM MOVIE. NOT MINE.

She twirled the shining silver gun in her hand carelessly, not concerned at all if she accidently hit the trigger and blew her head off. She was too deep in thought. She practiced smacking her lips, and clicking her tongue, trying her best to be like the man she hated, yet loved, the most. Small drips echoed off the walls of the dingy building, and the rooms smelled of dust and blood.

Her thugs were in the room next door to hers, playing cards, torturing the hostage, watching tv, etc, etc. Her 'favorite' thug, Oscar, was guarding her door. He was the first man that she had recruited to her 'gang.' She sighed to herself at the word. How pathetic her little band of criminals was. 'I'm sure HE started out the same,' she thought, making herself feel better.

There was a knock on her beaten, old door.

"Hey boss," Oscar said, peeking into her room. "There's a white van parked out front. No one's gettin' out or nuttin'. Wants us to take cares of it?"

She didn't look at him, but made faces at the grimy stone wall in front of her. After a moment she said, "I trust you'll take care of it personally?"

He nodded his head and grinned. It had been a couple of days since they had had a good outing. Oscar closed the door slightly, and after a few seconds all was quiet. Only the sound of her gun spinning in the air.

Then there were gun shots, echoing throughout the hollow room. She didn't flinch or move; it was as if she hadn't heard them at all. When they had ended, there was no noise whatsoever. She curiously looked at the door. It was unusually silent. Normally, she would hear them all coming inside with grunts of approval. Setting the gun down, she rolled her eyes and jumped up from her chair. With her arms balled up into fists, she marched to the door and yanked it open to find that the room was completely empty. Cards were sprawled out on an old, yellow folding table, the tv was off, and chairs were strewn about the depressing room. The high windows at the far side of the room were letting in small strands of gray light.

"Oh, there's nothing to see in there," a voice said from behind and she froze. She put her hands up on the door frames and clenched them heatedly.

Two purple gloved hands found their way around the front of her waist, and a set of shivers crawled up her spine.

"I missed you," he said into her ear. "LOVE the new outfit. Makes you more, ah, like me."

His hands disappeared and she whipped around furiously.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded to know.

"I told you Harleen," he said, setting himself down into the chair she had been sitting in just moments ago. He picked the gun up and used it as a mirror to look at his reflection. "I missed you."

Harleen did a cartwheel and landed with her hands on either side of the Joker's head. He looked away from the gun and turned to her. He looked, surprise, surprise, bored.

"Nobody calls me that anymore," she said frigidly, her face only a few inches away from his.

"Oooo, that was cold!" he told her, and then continuing to shiver. "So everyone's calling you by the nickname that I gave you, huh?"

Harley did a handstand above his head, balancing herself over the beaten up chair that he sat in.

"It kind of stuck," she said with a sigh, landing behind the chair. "Now what do you REALLY want? As I last remembered, you left me all alone in that alleyway. I was almost mugged/raped."

"And I apologized for that, didn't I?" he said, pursing his lips.

"No, you didn't," she told him, folding her arms. Her white-painted nostrils flared.

"Oh," he said, looking down and clicking his tongue. "Well I'm sorry."

She looked down at him crossly. Then, she smiled and jumped up in the air happily, clapping her hands joyfully. Harley jumped onto his lap and squeezed him into a massive hug. The Joker pursed his lips and patted her head.

"It's ok!" she said happily, still glued to him. "I used cleverness and wits to save myself from that man and start up a team of my own!"

"Oh, I know," he said quietly, licking his lips. "You've been stealing my entire spotlight. So I came down here to do something about it."

He put his hand up to her throat and raised her out of his lap, pushing her into the cold, concrete wall as she winced in pain. He leaned his entire body into hers.

"You've been busy," he continued, pulling out his knife and stroking her greasy, tangled blond hair with it.

"Are you going to, cough, kill me?" Harley said with a small grin, gripping his wrist with both of her hands.

"I have inkling to," he told her thoughtfully. He clicked his tongue again. "Or, I think I have a better idea. You see, I could use you to help me with this, ah, mob problem I've been having. BUT," he smacked his lips together, making a small popping noise. "The thing is, I have no more room in my, ah, group. I'd need to eliminate one. Could you do a guy a favor?"

Her eyes narrowed and she smiled at him devilishly. All traces of the pain she was feeling had gone away as soon as he said the words. He returned with an equal, if not more, terrifying smile.

The group of men carried in the large garbage bag with the body of the Joker inside of it. They threw it on top of Gambol's pool table as Gambol himself walked around to examine it. He ripped off the bag that was placed over the body's head to reveal the Joker. He grinned at it and turned around. His grin got bigger as he saw who was behind him. Harley was bound and gagged, and was being held by her arms by one of the men who brought in the Joker. She stared angrily at Gambol, thrashing around her body and attempting to yell at him. A couple of Gambol's men slinked towards her and took her from her captor.

"So, I got him dead and her alive," Gambol started. "For him, dead, it was half a mill-"

"How about alive?" the Joker cut off, rising himself off the table and putting his trademark knife into Gambol's mouth. Harley stood up and kicked the two men in the face, stepping out of her bonds as she did so. The other men grabbed Gambol's men and held them in restraint.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?" the Joker asked Gambol. "My father was....a drinker. And a fiend. And one night he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. Turns to me and he says "Why so serious?" Comes at me with the knife,"Why so serious?" He sticks the blade in my mouth and says, "Let’s put a smile on that face!" And..... Why so serious?"

Gambol whimpered slightly, and then the Joker cut his mouth, and Gamblor's body fell limply to the floor. Harley clapped her hands in the air, as if she was attempting to rid them of dirt. The Joker looked at the dead man's thugs and grabbed a pool cue.

"Now, our operation is small but there is a lot of potential for 'aggressive' expansion. So which one of you fine gentlemen would like to join our team? Oh, there's only one spot open right now so we're gonna have..." he broke the cue over his knee and threw it at them. "Tryouts. Make it fast."

He left the room with Harley in tow, until she was grabbed by a man.

"Oh, and Harles," The Joker said, turning to her with his finger up in the air as if he had forgotten some small detail. "The tryouts are open to you, too, babe. You didn't think you'd get in THAT easily, did you?" He chuckled lightly.

Harley's curious expression turned to one of pure hatred and loathing. She punched the man that was holding her in the nose and grabbed his gun. She shot the other three men who were, 'trying out' and threw it down the hallway where the Joker had disappeared.

"That's cheating!" he yelled from down the hall. Two men, one of them being the one that she had punched, grabbed her by her shoulders and carried her out of the building. They threw her onto the curb. Harley whipped her head around furiously and watched as they disappeared inside of the building.

"DAMN HIM!" she screeched out into the cold air.

She picked up a stone and threw it at one of the already broken windows. Harley stalked off down the street, muttering indecipherable words.

"He, he took my men, my men," she mumbled. "Killed them, kicked me out of his, his plans, out of his LIFE."

After about two miles, she finally stopped walking. The air was cold and it had started to sprinkle. She examined her surroundings to find that she was in a street not much different than the one she was in before. The only difference was that the sun had set and it was much darker out. She leaned up against a building and slumped to the ground.

"Why won't he accept me?" she cried out pitifully. "I want him to want me....I want him to need me....Just like I need him."

Police sirens began ringing through the air and their lights flashed brightly into her eyes. She smirked and stood up, using her hand to block the light. One of Joker's guys must've called them, attempting to get rid of me. She began slowly walking to them, an evil grin on her face. This was a good way for her to lash out her anger. She reached into her pants and pulled out a small switch-blade, but before she got the chance to do anything, someone from behind grabbed her. She turned her head expecting to see the face that she saw everywhere else, but was surprised. Instead, it was a black face, no a black mask with pointed ears. She stared at him in shock, and then she smiled.

"So you finally think I'm dangerous enough to go after?" Harley giggled in a girlish way. "I'm flattered. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you, Batman. I'm Harley!"

She stuck out her hand and he took it, but bent it so it went behind her back. She giggled some more.

"You're rough!"

"I believe she's the one you've been looking for?" Batman said to Commissioner Gordon as he walked over to him.

"Thanks," he said, putting Harley in handcuffs. "She took one of her hostages and switched clothes with her, so that we arrested the hostage instead of her. She's clever, but not as clever as the Joker is."

"You think so, huh?" she said, offended. They were talking as if she weren't there at all.

"Take her to Arkham." The commissioner commanded. An officer grabbed her and pulled her towards an empty police car. Harley didn't look away from the bat. She stared at him with interest and curiousity.

"Is that a good idea?" Batman's deep, rough voice asked.

"What?"

"Sending her to Arkham," Batman clarified. "Didn't she used to work there?"

"She was never in the maximum security wing," Gordon told him. "She always mainly worked on the lower classed psychopaths."

"Until the Joker," Batman said.

"Yes," Gordon said weakly.

"You don't think he'll come back to get her?"

"Actually, we're kind of planning on it."

"I wouldn't underestimate the Joker," Batman forewarned.

Gordon turned and faced the police car as it drove away into the cold night.

"I'm sure you'll be watching, won't you?" he responded and turned around. But he was too late. Batman had already disappeared.