Always Smiling .:JokerXHarley:.

.:Prologue:.

  She slammed the hard, crying. A red hand print on her right cheek, she slumped to the floor, choking and trying to calm herself down. He'd always hit her, sure, but he never tried to kill her, she loved him. Didn't that mean he loved her? Surely.

"Harley?" A beautiful voice spoke, a woman coming out of a room. "What are you doing here, it's two in the morning." The woman turned on a light, seeing her best friend. The rips in her jester costume, the bright print on her painted cheek. She helped Harley up, worried. She'd known the Joker to be abusive, but Harley always tolerated slaps. Why had she come to her, so hurt and upset, over a slap?

"Ivy, M-Mistah J.....H-He .." The jester girl couldn't make out words. Ivy sat her own an went to the sink to get a cool rag, soaked in water. She cleaned off Harley's makeup and pressed the cloth to the red mark, making it slowly disappear.

'Harley, what did he do?" The red head asked, her eyes searching Harley's face.

"I-I'm done with tryin' to be the very best helper for h-him...H-He pulled a gun on me, Red. He kicked me out." Harley cried, gripping the fabric of her costume.

"I always knew he'd turn on you. But you have me, I ca-"

"No, Red. W-Without Mistah J., w-what's the point of tryin' to be Harley Quinn anymore? I-I'm gonna go back to being Harleen Quinzel." Harley wiped her eyes and sniffled. Ivy blinked, why give up? Harley had done crime without The Joker before.

"If you say so, Harley, but, what will you do if you see him again? Or see Batman beat him to a bloody mess? You still love him." Ivy asked, setting the wet cloth down.

"Ignore it.." Harley barely whispered. Ivy gave her extra clothes to change, gave her a roll of money, and sent her on her way, worried for the once-bouncy, Harley Quinn.

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He sat there, glaring at the door. It had been three hours, and she still wasn't back. She always came back. He glanced at the clock again, tapping his nails on the arm of a chair he had seated himself at. The gun he had pulled on Harley was sitting next to him on the floor.

Perhaps he had scared her too much, so she ran to Ivy's to seek comfort. She'd be back soon. He knew she'd come back.

But what if she doesn't? He stood and walked towards the door, leaving the warehouse he and Harley had made a home in. He threw the hyenas a bone, staring at them. Harley's babies. He continued walking, determined to find his help again. But how is it he's crawling back to her? He never did, he never cared for her. But something this time, made him want her back. Missing her, longing to hear her annoying voice, the way she called him, 'Puddin' . He blinked and shook his head. He just had a fever, that was all. He was sick.

He approached Poison Ivy's apartment, and entered the building. He walked upstairs, catching a scent of Harley's perfume. He immediately rushed up the staircase and knocked on Ivy's door. He heard footsteps and the door opened, revealing a shocked Ivy. He pushed past her and entered, looking around. He saw Harley's uniform on the ground. She was here, but what happened? Had Ivy hurt his little loon? Anger surged through him and he turned to the red head, who was also glaring at him.

"Where's Harley!?" He snarled, clenching his fists. The red head smirked.

"She came here, crying. I saw what you did, and I don't like people hurting my best friend, Joker." Ivy sneered, walking to her fridge and getting orange juice. The Joker glared and smacked the jug out of her hands, splashing the orange liquid everywhere. Normally, he would have laughed, snickered, or even smirked, but he was too focused on Harley. Harley.

"I asked you a question." He stared her down.

"She left, she says she's done being Harley Quinn." Ivy turned away from him and grabbed towels. "You finally broke her. I have no idea where she went."

The Joker felt a sudden emptiness. Harley was missing. He raced out of the building and looked at the streets, for a sign of the blonde hair helper. But she was no where to be seen. He went back to his warehouse, shaking. He never was so desperate to find Harley, never cared. But for some reason, he did now. The woman he had abused for so long, who stuck by his side, the only one who understood him. The woman he had worked so hard on, was gone as easy as popping a balloon with a pin. He slumped in the chair and stared at the door. Waiting for Harley to come home again.