Crazy in Love (ALL NEW CHAPTERS!!!!)

Unexpected Visitors

       

Harley grinned as she and Ivy exited the building, the door slowly closing behind them with the rustle of vines. Ivy opened the passenger side of the car for Harley, who eagerly slid into the seat. Ivy shut the door behind her, walking around to the driver's side before slipping in. "Buckle up, buttercup," Ivy said with a smile, clicking her own seatbelt in place.

Harley followed suit, strapping herself in, and Ivy revved the engine, her foot pressing firmly on the pedal. The roar of the engine echoed through the night air as they pulled away.

Harley's phone buzzed in her lap, and she glanced down at the message from Mr. J: "Come on Harley, you know I didn't mean it."

She stared at the screen for a moment before swiping it off, her finger lingering on the power button. She glanced out the windshield, her mind already focused on the trouble she was about to cause with Ivy by her side.

Joker

The Joker stood with his gun in hand, pointed at the trembling man on his knees in front of him. The man's hands were behind his head, tears streaming down his face. Joker's eyes were empty as he stared at the man, irritated.

"Oh, shut it," Joker muttered, waving his gun lazily in the air as he typed out a quick message to Harley. "I don't want to deal with another crybaby tonight." His fingers worked faster, tapping out the words while his eyes remained fixed on the man.

He didn't have the energy for this. First Harley, now some random hobo. He was tired, sore, and, to be honest, getting sick of the whining.

He sighed, irritated, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang out, and the man's body crumpled to the floor, his head smashing into the brick wall behind him as blood poured from the wound. Joker stared at the body for a moment, his fingers absently twirling the gun in his hand before shoving it into his inner jacket pocket.

He shook his head, muttering to himself, and started to walk away, but then a car zoomed past him. He squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver, but it was no use. His eyes narrowed as he watched a trail of grass and vines growing behind the car.

Ivy.

He chuckled to himself. He figured Harley would be with her after their little incident. It wasn't his fault she was being such a whiny bitch.

He shook his head again, dismissing the thought, and spun his knife in his hand, a sadistic smile creeping up on his lips. He started walking in the direction of the car. After a few moments, the screech of tires sliced through the air as the car screeched to a halt. Joker's smile widened.

Ivy

Ivy glanced at Harley, who had changed over the years. She sighed softly, watching Harley swing her hammer with reckless abandon. It crashed into the window of a nearby clothing store, sending glass flying and screams echoing from within. Ivy smirked, raising her hand slightly, and vines shot out from the ground, wrapping around mannequins and dresses, pulling them from their stands.

Harley's eyes sparkled with delight as she grabbed a striking red dress with a black underlay, stuffing it into a bag she had picked up.

Ivy's smile faded as she heard the all-too-familiar voice.

"Hello, darling."

She turned to find the Joker leaning casually against the broken window frame. Harley's eyes lit up, and she dropped her bag, rushing toward him.

"Puddin'!" she cried, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. He grinned and kissed her cheek, wrapping his arm possessively around her waist.

"Pardon us, Ivy, but we must be on our way," he said with a smirk, giving Harley's waist a gentle squeeze.

Harley's gaze shifted to the street outside. Her grin widened as she saw the Batmobile approaching. She laughed, sliding her tongue along her teeth.

"Uh-oh, Batsy's coming," she taunted, the excitement in her voice rising. Behind the sleek black car, Nightwing's motorcycle was trailing closely.

Joker looked up, smirking. "Looks like double trouble," he muttered under his breath before pulling out his pistol and aiming at the Batmobile's tire. He squeezed the trigger, the sharp sound of the gunshot cutting through the night.