An Unhealthy Attachment

A/N - Good golly, biscuits 'n' gravy! This chapter felt like it took me FOREVER, and you guys probably agree since you're used to me being faster than this, so...er...sorry? heh Oh, and a BIG kudos to Tera Earth who was the ONLY reviewer to get the Fred and Ginger reference! :-P While trying to think up names for Harleen's fake parents, I decided to name them after Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers...lame, right? ;0) Oh, and ANOTHER big kudos to those of you who pointed out that Miranda was drinking while pregnant... Can you BELIEVE that I forgot I'd made her pregnant? Well, I mean I KNEW, but I clearly wasn't thinking. I changed it to "flavored water" to appease everybody, hehehe. :-P

CH 3: Blood and Chaos

It was the sound of rowdy laughter that awoke Rachel from her drug-induced sleep, her blue eyes fluttering as she slowly processed the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. From what she could discern, she was currently onboard some underground airline, for when she looked out her tiny plexi-glass window, she discovered that they were flying through a bank of fluffy white clouds.

Now glancing over toward the source of the laughter, Rachel scowled when she spotted several masked goons about two seats away from her. They were all playing some sort of card game, but why they felt the need to shout their winnings was beyond her.

Suddenly feeling the need to make her presence known, Rachel cleared her throat until one of the masked clowns finally looked in her direction.

"Whaddaya want?" he growled.

"To see your boss -- I have a bone to pick with him" she crisply returned. "He had no right to kidnap me whenever I specifically stated that I wished to be left alone, not to mention that he shot and probably killed my doctor."

The thug began to play his air violin in accordance with her words, thus earning a series of explosive laughter from his onlookers.

Clenching her fists to the point that she drew blood, Rachel shot up from her seat before shouting, "This is not funny, you assholes! Just get me your boss and I'll let you return to your stupid card game!"

The gaggle of clowns immediately fell silent, but the evident ringleader seemed none too pleased. Leaping up from his perch, he threw down his cards while growling, "I don't care if you're the Joker's girl or not, bitch, 'cause you definitely need ta be taught a lesson...c'mere!"

Ducking away from the thug's grasp, Rachel staggered toward the back of the plane as the goons began warily chatting amongst themselves.

Breathing heavily, Rachel moved to plea for her life when the swish of a parting curtain suddenly sounded from behind her. Judging by the suffocating silence that immediately befell the room, Rachel knew it was none other than her captor, himself.

"Trouble in paradise?" the Joker crooned.

Swallowing, the thug bowed his head like a child about to be scolded, his head hurriedly shaking back and forth as he insisted, "N-no, boss, no...I-I was jus' tryin' a' get 'er ta keep quiet, that's all."

With a grin stretching at his crimson scars, the Joker ambled forward with loud, deliberate strides. "Chuckles, have you ever contemplated the meaning of life?"

Clearly bewildered by this statement, the thug shook his head as his boss placed a hand on his shoulder. "Aw, well that's too bad" the Joker sustained, "'cause it's truly a fas-cin-ate-ing subject. Take you, for example...your pitiful life is just hanging in the balance amidst a web of other lives that are intricately woven together. In the end, you're just a thread...a tiny, in-sig-nif-icant little thread that can easily be cut." In accordance with these words, the Joker flicked out his blade and angled it carefully along Chuckles' pulse, the petrified thug trembling as he silently pleaded for his boss to spare him. Unfortunately for Chuckles, the Joker clearly cared little for his vapid pleas, the maniac's eyes seeming to smolder as he purred, "Can't you just hear all those useless lives being cut? Snip... Snip... Snip... Truly music to your ears, wouldn't you say?"

Smiling weakly, Chuckles moved to voice his agreement, but the Joker giddily interrupted, "Isn't it just exhilarating that you never know when you, yourself will be cut from the tapestry of life? You'll be yanked...torn from your lit-tle happy place, only to be substituted by some newer, possibly more pathetic thread to keep the tapestry going. We can't have it unraveling, after all..."

Grinning, the Joker drew the blade across Chuckles' throat, but not hard enough to slice his flesh. "In the end" he rasped, "despite all hate and prejudices, I suppose we really do need one another to function. Man needs peace, and man needs chaos, so each thread helps to deliver just that to this cuh-ray-zy, mixed-up world."

Chuckles finally appeared to relax. "Then...I-I'm important, too?"

The Joker's lips twisted into a blood-red smirk, yet his veiled eyes disallowed anyone from reading his true thoughts. "You, Chuckles?" He giggled. "Somehow, I can see this whole world functioning juuuust fine without your bumbling presence."

In a flash, the Joker drew his arm back and sliced Chuckles' throat open in a sickening burst of scarlet, Rachel and the other goons recoiling as his blood splattered the seats and walls in a macabre portrait of red.

Her mouth agape, Rachel shakily touched her own throat as the Joker threw back his head in a delighted cackle, the blood raining down his chalk-white features only making him appear more ethereal and ghoulish than ever.

"Y-you killed him" she choked out. "Why would you do that? He didn't deserve to die..."

The Joker finally stopped laughing, the bloodlust in his eyes making them glow against his blood-stained skin. "We all deserve to die, Miss Quinzel" he feverishly insisted. Now stalking toward Rachel with a wolfish grin upon his lips, he took her chin in between his fingers before running his crimson-spattered blade along her cheek. "Death" he coolly began, "is a very be-eaut-i-ful thing, my dear Harley. Have you ever relished in the sensation of bathing in another man's blood? Have you ever tasted it?"

Trembling, Rachel gazed up into the Joker's eyes with an incurable touch of terror, her arms remaining glued at her sides as she squeaked, "N-no, I...I have not."

"Think carefully" he purred. "Don't you recall a time when you and I rid the streets of Gotham from low, spineless scum? When we'd spill their blood and just relish in their cowardice? How they'd cry and scuh-ream for their lives?"

Shaking, Rachel backed away from him before shouting, "No, no, it's not true, it's not! I could never be like you!"

"Check your back...you'll find several, uh...scars from our little en-coun-ters" the Joker urged, the predatory look on his face causing Rachel to squirm. Something about his mannerisms seemed as if he were actually getting off by all the horrific talk of blood, fear, and mayhem, and this only helped to fuel the rapidly growing nausea in her gut.

"Please" Rachel finally begged, "just please leave me alone..."

Twisting his lips into a pout, the Joker mockingly ridiculed, "Well poo, I sure don't remember you being so much of a kill-joy, but I suppose sleeping for three years does that to a person." Now glancing down with disinterest at Chuckles' corpse, he motioned toward it with his head before ordering, "Dispose of that insignificant thread, will ya, boys? We'll just get a new one to replace his spot in the tapestry..." Turning back to Rachel, he sighed while adding, "Good help is just so hard to find these days, wouldn't you agree?"

Wordlessly watching the Joker retreat back behind his blue curtain, Rachel closed her eyes and tried to will herself to awaken from the nightmare she'd been so mercilessly thrown into.

--

Picking up a tomato and analyzing it for ripeness, Miranda yawned to herself as she placed it inside a plastic bag and began searching for another one. She had to admit that grocery shopping was fairly new to her, because before she married Dusty she'd just hired a maid to do all the 'simple pleasures' of life. By this point her cooking was finally improving, but every once in a while she'd scold herself for having let go of the family help.

As Miranda reached for a particularly red tomato, she caught sight of a flash of royal purple from out of the corner of her eye. Freezing on impulse, the blonde whipped to the right with the hopes of discovering who owned such a hideous ensemble, only to discover... ...absolutely nothing.

'Great, now I'm having hallucinations' Miranda thought, her eyes rolling skyward as she returned back to her tedious task. Just as she did so, she felt a strong hand come down on her petite shoulder, her fist acting before her brain as she whirled around and jabbed her attacker right in the gut.

"Oof!"

Her eyes widening, Miranda gave a yelp of surprise before she exclaimed, "Oh, my God, Harvey, I am so sorry! I-I just thought...I mean, I thought you were..."

"Going to take advantage of a crazy pregnant lady?" he finished. "Jesus Christ, Miranda, I think you took out my liver!"

"Oh, stop being such a baby!" Irritably placing her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes while demanding, "What are you doing out here, anyway? Did you come to make sure I didn't screw up the ingredients to your precious romantic dinner?"

Harvey smirked. "Well, you did offer to make it for us... In all seriousness, though, I'll admit that I just wanted to check in on you since you seemed real out of it over the phone. Everything alright?"

Forcing a smile to her rosebud lips, Miranda nodded and re-adjusted the purse on her shoulder. "Oh, yeah, I'm just fine...a little tense, that's all."

"I'll say" Harvey complained. "If you weren't such a big target, you'd be able to take down anybody in hand-to-hand combat."

Miranda scowled. "Stop making fun of my gut! I can't help it if I've been a bit paranoid as of late, because mother-to-be hormones apparently make women more keyed-up than usual!"

"You're sure you're ok?"

"Yeah" she mumbled, "I'm very sure...the sooner I get out of this dump, the better off my sanity, and the store's."

Staring at his sister with a twinge of uncertainty, Harvey placed a hand on her shoulder before urging, "Alright then, let's go...and this time I'll make sure to call you a 'dainty cow' instead of a heifer."

Miranda grinned. "When we get back home, you are so dead."

Laughing, the two of them left to pay for the groceries, Miranda finally feeling a sense of calm for the first time since their discussion on the Joker.

--

Splashing cold water in her face, Rachel leaned over the airline sink's bathroom as she tried her damndest to shut out the Joker's horrible laughter. He wasn't currently cackling, but he didn't have to be; the cruel expression of mirth haunted and tortured her conscience to the point that she wondered if he'd been telling her the truth. Had she assisted him in his demented plans of murder and chaos? And if this were the case, why did she feel so hopelessly adverse to his mannerisms?

With a sigh, Rachel glanced up into the mirror before fully concentrating on her individual features. Her eyes were a brilliant azure that lit up like twilight's first star, but they retained a certain sadness that couldn't be deciphered. Her pale, creamy flesh then formed into a pixie-like, delicately-curved nose, well-defined cheek bones, softly arched lips, and the loveliest locks of flaxen that she had ever seen. Was this truly the face of a killer?

Trembling, Rachel turned away from the mirror just as a tremendous jolt squiggled throughout the plane. With a cry, she went toppling backward through the slightly open door, a wince tearing across her features when she cracked her head against the aisle floor.

Groaning, Rachel moved to sit up, but that's when she noticed the Joker's pale face grinning down at her from her uncomfortable position.

With a giggle that chilled her to the very core, he leapt a top one of the seats while exclaiming, "Gotham, we're hoooome!"

As the Joker's cronies began whooping and laughing, Rachel felt her soul fill with a tremendous sense of dread, for something about the area's name was beginning to jar her as eerily familiar...

A/N - Alllriiighty then...yet another chapter up and out of the way. Is it sick and twisted that I COMPLETELY enjoyed writing that whole tapestry speech? lol I'll admit that Old Norse mythology kinda-sorta inspired that since the Wyrd Sisters (pronounced "weird", for some, dare I say it, WEIRD reason, har har) treat lives like a tapestry and then cut them when they're over. Or...something like that, haha. I seriously don't remember since I took that class (Medieval Brit Lit) a semester ago, which is SUPER sad since it wasn't THAT long ago, but yeah...whatever. I'm off to school in a week! I am sooo excited, yay!

By the way, this is the way I envision Miranda (just take out the spaces)- h t t p : / / sweetfaith06.deviantart. c o m /art/Moonlighting-Maddie-Hayes-94533027

And THIS is the way I envision Harley Quinn in her new costume (ditto)- h t t p : / / sweetfaith06.deviantart. c o m /art/Revamped-Harley-Quinn-94279729