Her Favorite Patient

Part 5
Harley Quinn paced back and forth in the alley he said would be their meeting place. Her heart raced as she excitedly swung around a small suitcase. She was a definitely a new person – he had seen to that. She set her suitcase down and adjusted one of her blond pigtails. She couldn't believe she had actually managed to help him break out of Arkham. She had never felt so daring – it was exhilarating. She grinned proudly at herself, something she had been doing a lot lately. Now she was always smiling, just like J.
She checked her watch. He should have arrived twenty minutes ago. He was probably just running late. He'd be here any minute. She took a make-up compact from her pocket and glanced in the mirror. Her blue eyes were smudged with thick black rings. Her dark blood-red lipstick was still perfect. She smiled at her new face, then closed her compact. She sat down on her suitcase to wait.
Hours passed. The smile had long ago faded from her face. She had frantically searched the alley for a note or a sign or anything, but found nothing. Darkness was beginning to creep across the sky as black clouds rolled in overhead. He wasn't coming. A single tear ran from her eye, dragging a black trail down her cheek.
Why hadn't he come? Had she done something wrong? She thought back to their last conversation.
“After I get out, you're gonna go to the alley behind Harry's Hardware. I'll come for you.” Then he had given her a strange, dark smile. Just before she had given him a last-minute blow-job.
Her lips parted and her breathing shallowed. I'll come for you. And he had. All over her stupid, grinning mouth. Never tell an outright lie. But take the truth, give it just a little twist, and no one will be the wiser. A twisted truth. Just like everything else he had said. Sweetie, everyone is fucked up. The question is, do you fuck them or do you wait around for them to fuck you? Her fists clenched as the cruel reality of the past four months exploded in her head. Sweetie-pie, I'm a fucker. He had fucked her cunt and her head. He had played with her like a toy, like a harlequin doll, used her to escape, and then left her in his hell. It had all been one sick, twisted mind-fuck joke, and she was the punchline.
Thick drops of rain crashed from the sky. She picked up her suitcase and stormed into Harry's Hardware.

The Joker strolled away from his midnight murder scene, hands in his pockets. He whistled cheerfully. It was good to be back in his make-up, not to mention his habits. He had done well. When the Gotham Police Department got a load of what he had just done, they'd be on their knees begging Batman to come back.
He heard footsteps behind him and stopped whistling. He turned his head slowly, narrowing his eyes and pulling his knife from his sleeve. The footsteps stopped.
“I know you're behind me, asshat.”
No one answered. Suddenly, a cat squalled and ran between his legs. He jumped a foot in the air and yelled, “Shit!”
His heart raced, but his breathing slowed. He laughed at himself. “Fucking cats.”
Just when he was about to put his knife away, a hard blow met the back of his head, landing him flat on his back. The last thing he saw before he passed out was a pair of blackened eyes and a smeared red mouth above him.

“Wake up, sunshine.”
The Joker blinked his eyes open and groaned. His head was pounding. He glanced shiftily at his surroundings. He was gagged and tied in a fetal position in what appeared to be a little girl's bedroom. An assortment of stuffed animals, one of which was missing an eye, stared at him on the bed. A petite girl wearing a red and black leather corset, thigh-high boots, and high blond pig-tails faced a dresser with smiley faces painted all over it. A mallet with the words “Harry's Hardware” printed on it lay beside her.
Harley Quinn turned around and grimaced at him. “Hi-ih.”
He made a muffled noise that sounded vaguely like, “What the fuck?”
“What can I say? You were my favorite patient, but an even better teacher.” She sounded like a little girl.
She held something behind her back, and skipped over to him. Then she sat on the bed and smiled down at him. Her face was smeared white. Thick black rings lined her blue eyes and dark red lipstick formed an extended smile in mockery of his own likeness.
“It's not very nice to toy with sweet little girls' hearts. ” She made a pouty face.
He shifted his widened eyes down to his bonds, frantically trying to figure out some way to get loose. Then he noticed what he was wearing: a white nurse's dress and -- oh God -- no underwear. He made protesting noises through his gag.
“Yeah, the gag is for you, so you won't make too much noise. And the nurse's dress...” She shrugged her shoulders and gave him an innocent look. “Well, that's for me.”
He glared at her and grumbled through the gag.
“Oh sweetie, I'm only doing this because I love you. Isn't that what you wanted?” She grinned at him and reached for the one-eyed teddy bear. “What do you think, Mister Winky? Does Nurse Joker need a taste of his own medicine?”
She nodded the bear's head yes and spoke for him in a cartoon voice. “Yes, Harley! Why don't you give him an injection!”
“Oh Mister Winky, you're so funny!” She rubbed her nose against the bear's and set him back down. Then she took her other hand out from behind her back and revealed a very large purple and green candy-striped dong. She held it in front of the Joker's wide, panicked eyes.
He looked up at her and made more frantic, muffled noises. They sounded something like, “Wait! Lemme explain!”
“Gee whiz. This thing is awful big. Sure hope I have enough spit.” She cuddled up against him and lifted the back of his dress.
He glanced back at her with wide, black-smeared eyes and whined pitifully through his gag.
She spread his cheeks and pressed the dong roughly against his asshole. Then she leaned down and ran her tongue slowly along his ear. Her childlike voice changed to a low growl.
“Dare you to laugh now, fucker.”

End.