In Another Life VII

Chapter 12

Harley awoke in his arms the next day, and for a moment just enjoyed the feeling of his body against hers. Then her eyes snapped open as she realized what had happened last night. She had slept with the Joker.

And although she knew she should have been appalled by her actions, she didn't feel anything but happy as she rolled over gently to look at him, his white face calm and relaxed in sleep. This had never been part of her job to infiltrate the Joker's gang – this had been completely unprofessional. But she didn't care, she realized, as he stirred suddenly and tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer.

He opened his eyes. "Morning," he said, smiling at her.

"Uh...morning," she said, trying to keep her head, although it was difficult with his body and his smile. "Uh...look, boss, what happened last night...I'm not sure that should happen again. Ain't very professional, y'know, me working for you and...sleeping with you. Maybe we should just consider it...y'know...a mistake or something, and make sure we don't do anything like it again..."

He silenced her with a kiss, and she returned it, her objections evaporating instantly.

"Mmm...or not," she said instead, grinning at him as he drew away.

"That's better," he chuckled. "If I didn't know better, baby, I'd say you were dissatisfied with your service last night, with talk like that."

"Well, you know that ain't true," she whispered, smiling.

"I'm glad," he said, kissing her again.

"I just never thought...you were that into...y'know...sex," she murmured. "I didn't want to think of what happened as a mistake."

He took her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. "I wasn't that interested in it," he murmured. "Guess I just needed to meet the right woman."

She beamed, kissing him. "Well, I hope you're not gonna do what we did last night to Rocco and the guys, since we're equal and all," she said, grinning.

He laughed. "You know I can't live by my own rules when it comes to you, baby," he said, kissing her nose. He stood up, throwing on his robe. "Anyway, this is good for your morale, and let no one say I don't care about my lackeys' morale."

"Is that why you wanted to do it?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. "To improve my morale?"

"Well, you're looking a lot happier today, which is a vast improvement over your mood the past few days," he said. "Guess we'll have to keep this up, since this is the only way to keep you happy, Harley Quinn. Otherwise you'll be all gloomy and miserable again, and we can't have that. There'll be dissension in the ranks."

"Mmm, aren't you a good leader?" she asked, grinning. "Never thinking of yourself, just the people beneath you."

He smiled, bending down to kiss her. "I'm gonna get you some breakfast – don't move a muscle," he said, putting his hands in the shape of a picture frame. "I want you waiting for me just like that when I come back, all wrapped up in the sheets like a yummy piece of cotton candy. And just as tasty," he said, kissing her again.

"Yes, sir," she said, smiling at him.

"That's my good little henchwench," he whispered, kissing her again. "Not a muscle moved now, or there'll be spankings!" he said, leaving her.

She giggled as the door shut and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling and smiling at the memories of last night. Rationally she didn't know what the heck she was doing, but irrationally, she didn't care. Last night had been the most incredible experience of her life, and she loved it too much to stop now, no matter how stupid and dangerous it might be.

She heard the door open and quickly rolled back onto her elbows. "You better not have moved!" chuckled Joker, balancing two mugs of coffee and two bowls of chocolate cereal.

"No, sir," she said, smiling.

"Hmm...I think you have a little," he said, putting down the breakfast on the bedside table. "Better have a spanking just in case."

She squeaked happily as he slapped her bottom, climbing back into bed. She sat up, taking a bowl of cereal and eating it.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked. "It's kinda silly, but I...really wanna know."

He shrugged. "Shoot," he said, taking a spoonful of his own cereal.

"Why me?" she asked. "I mean, you've never shown any...interest in anyone before, not like this anyway. Or if you have, you haven't acted on it, at least not that I know of...so...what is it about me that makes me...special? Why do you want me?"

He shrugged again. "Your fault. You appear in this clown getup, skintight too, no less, don't think I didn't notice," he added, grinning. "It's like you've made yourself in my image, and that's pretty flattering to a guy, even if he wasn't completely distracted by trying to see how much he could see through the skintight outfit..."

"You're a bad boy!" she giggled, hitting him playfully.

"And you're a hot gal who's made herself in my image, incredibly enthusiastic and eager to please, has a great sense of humor, seems to really understand my sense of humor, has a lotta natural criminal talent, and beat my arch-nemesis senseless last night. And you wonder why I can't keep my hands off you?" he chuckled.

"I guess when you put it that way, it is kinda obvious," she said, grinning. "I just...I dunno. I never really thought of myself as that...special."

"Well, do you think I'd want any gal who wasn't?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I guess not," she said. "Thanks, boss."

"You gotta stop calling me that," he said. "It's just awkward in bed."

"I think it's kinda naughty and wrong and hot," she murmured, snuggling against him. "The idea that I'm sleeping with my boss – it's kinda dirty."

"Boy, it don't take much to get you going, does it?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Aw, c'mon, boss, you gotta know that complimenting a gal is a great way to get her into bed," murmured Harley.

"Well, I don't like 'boss,'" he retorted. "You'll have to think of a different name to get me in the mood."

"Mmm...ok...big boy," she whispered.

He snorted. "Have a little imagination, Harley!"

"Ok...puddin'."

"No," he said, flatly. "Not in a million years."

"I like puddin'," grumbled Harley. "And I think it suits you."

"Well, clearly you ain't hard to please," he snapped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded. "You saying I'm easy? I guess that's what I get for going to bed with you!"

She tried climbing out of bed, but he seized her around the waist, pulling her back down. "You better think of a good nickname soon," he murmured, grinning as he kissed down her neck. "Because Daddy can't wait much longer."

She grinned. "How about...Honey J."

He made a face. "Don't make me sick."

"Studmuffin?"

"That's almost as bad as puddin'," he said.

"What about...oh, Mr. J!" she gasped, as he planted a kiss on her belly. He looked up.

"Say it again," he murmured.

"Mmm...Mistah J," she purred, drawing out her Brooklyn accent and grinning. "How about it, puddin'?"

He grinned. "Mr. J is gonna take his Harley for a nice, long ride," he whispered, kissing her. "I like it. I really do."