In Another Life VII

Chapter 11

"Got the pizza!" called Jerry cheerfully, as he kicked open the door to the hideout.

"Just in time, Jerry – we're just about to see if we made the news!" said Harley, as he dumped the stack of pizza onto the table in the lounge. The rest of the henchmen were gathered around the TV and began grabbing boxes and passing them around.

"Got the beers too!" said Henderson, who was doing a good job feigning cheerfulness as he added four six-packs onto the table.

"C'mon, Roc, have a beer and you'll feel better," said Harley, handing him a can as Rocco held an icepack to his swollen jaw. He smiled at her.

"Thanks, Harley. Don't you want one?"

"Nah. I sometimes do...stupid things when I drink," she said, shrugging. "I'm gonna avoid alcohol for a while, especially after that last hangover!" she laughed. "I'll just stick to pizza," she said, grabbing a box and putting it on her lap.

"I'll take a slice," said a voice behind them, and everyone turned in astonishment to see the Joker standing in the doorway.

"Uh...sure, boss," said Rocco, standing up and offering him his pizza, and his seat. "Help yourself. Uh...nice that you wanna join us..."

"I wanna watch the news," he said, taking Rocco's seat next to Harley. "And the TV in my study's busted ever since I punched a hole through the screen with a boxing glove gun."

Nobody really knew how to respond to that, but fortunately they didn't have to, since the news started at that moment. "Our top story tonight, a daring robbery of the Royal Flush gems from the Natural History Museum, perpetrated by the Joker and leaving Batman beaten senseless..."

Everyone cheered, raising their beers, and Harley smiled at the footage of Batman being helped off the floor, and getting shakily to his feet.

She suddenly felt a hand on her knee. It took her a moment to process that that hand belonged to the Joker, and she glanced at him, feeling her heart speeding up. He didn't seem to notice her staring – his attention seemed to be focused on the TV.

And then she felt his hand sliding up, and her heart began to beat uncontrollably. She didn't know if she should say something, or remove his hand, but she didn't – she let him continue, trying to control her breathing.

His hand rested on her thigh without proceeding any further, but she felt him give her a squeeze. She continued to stare at him, breathing heavily, and his eyes met hers at last. He smiled, and she found she couldn't say a word.

She didn't understand what he was doing. Was this a game? She didn't understand it if so. But it had to be – either that or he was sincerely...coming on to her. And the Joker didn't do that. The Joker didn't have any interest in people or women or sex...

She felt him removing his hand, and to her surprise, she reached out and seized it, replacing it on her thigh. He looked at her and she looked back, not saying a word.

Then he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Come and see me later."

And he stood up and left. She stared after him, stunned. What had he meant by that? Was she in trouble? Maybe he hadn't wanted her to beat Batman...maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe he was playing with her – confusing her with mixed signals to lure her into a false sense of security, and then planning to punish her for what she had done – that sounded like one of his jokes. Only one way to find out, though.

She slipped away from the party, shaking in nervousness. "Get it together, Harl," she whispered to herself. "Whatever he's got planned can't be that bad..."

But she knew that wasn't true. She'd read about the ways the Joker punished his subordinates for failure, or for displeasing him. It wasn't pretty.

Her hand was shaking as she knocked on the door to his room. "Come in," he said.

She obeyed. "You wanted to see me, boss?" she asked.

The lights in the room were dim, and the shadow cast from the lamps hid his face from view – all she could see was his silhouette, and occasional puffs of smoke from his cigarette.

"Come in, Harley," he said. She obeyed, her body quivering like a leaf as she stood in front of him.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You're shaking," he commented.

She nodded. "I'm...a little afraid, I guess, sir."

"Afraid?" he repeated. "Of me?"

She nodded again. "Why would you think I'd want to hurt you?" he asked.

"I...I dunno," she stammered. "You're the Joker, I guess, and when you ain't pleased by your lackeys you can sometimes be...cruel."

He put out the cigarette. "And why would you think I was displeased by you?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I...I dunno," she repeated. "Just how you wanted me to come and see you...I thought I might be in trouble."

His grin shone in the lamplight as he chuckled. "Maybe you are, Harley Quinn," he whispered, standing up. "Maybe you are."

He approached her and her shaking grew worse. She flinched as he cupped her face in both his hands.

And then he kissed her. Harley was taken aback by the force of it, but she quickly adapted, responding to the eager demands of his mouth. It was the most thrilling kiss she had ever experienced in her life. Maybe some of it was because the man she was kissing was the most dangerous supercriminal in the world, but she had to credit his skill as well. His mouth was like a hungry animal, devouring hers, and she was its willing and eager prey.

"You...you haven't had any alcohol tonight, have you?" she asked when he drew away at last.

He shook his head. "Haven't touched a drop."

"Me neither," she whispered. "So this ain't just...a drunken whim 'cause of too much champagne?"

He shook his head. "Nah. This is one of those crazy whims that makes life worth living."

She beamed at him, throwing herself into his arms again. He lifted her easily, pressing kisses all over her face and neck as he carried her over to the bed.

"Mmm...boss...maybe we should..." began Harley as he pressed her down, climbing on top of her.

"Yes?" he whispered.

"Maybe we should...not..."

"Yes?" he repeated, drawing away from her slightly and looking at her.

She took a deep breath, looking down at her hands, as her rational mind bombarded her with questions and hesitations – this man was a murdering psychopath, who didn't have any feelings for other people. Getting involved with him was dangerous and stupid, and incredibly unprofessional, since she was both working undercover against him and ostensibly working for him.

She looked up to tell him something along those lines, or think up some excuse, but the moment their eyes met, all her objections vanished instantly, replaced by a fierce, burning desire for this man, and only this man.

She grinned. "Aw, the heck with it!" she gasped, grabbing him and pulling him down on top of her.