Dr. Harleen Quinzel's POV:
Did we just...? Was this real?
"You taste really good." I moaned and smirked down at him, panting a little. "Is this real?"
"No." He laughed, "It's not real. It's all fantasy. Can you do something for me, Doctor?"
"Anything, I mean yes..."
"I want a machine gun."
He went up on me, kissing my neck. I looked straight ahead as he continued to kiss and suck my neck pressing his body against mine. "A-A machine gun?" I asked quietly. Mistah J laughed against my neck and pushed himself against me, the bulge in his pants rubbing against my pussy causing me to moan. "So will you get it for me? Please? It'll help me..."
I gasped as he grinded his hips against mine. "I'll get you a machine gun..."
"Good girl." He laughed and slowly climbed off of me, leaving me horny and wanting him. I groaned and sat up, slowly putting my panties back on, and fixing my skirt. I went to put my hair up, but Joker stopped me, "Leave your hair down. It looks better that way."
I smiled and stood up, walking over to him. "I love you." I hugged him from behind. He tensed up in my arms, and then gave into the hug. "Why?"
"Why what?" I asked, closing my eyes and snuggling up to him. "Why do you love me?"
I hugged him tighter, "Because we're more alike then you think."
"What do you mean by that, Harley?"
And here comes the flashbacks.....
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Joker's POV:
"What do you mean by that, Harley?"
She backed away from me, sighed and looked down. "I... I never knew my father. My mom was one of the biggest whores in Gotham. She....She got with my father, but she still would run around and mess with other guys. She left my father when she found out she was pregnant with me. She told me this herself, and called me a stupid little girl, and said that I would be nothing in life. When I finally was old enough to live on my own, I hunted down my father. But it was too late... He had died of cancer..."
I stared at her as she sobbed, watching as tears fell violently from her eyes. I felt a pain in my chest as I watched her cry, and I gasped, placing my hand on my chest. Why do I feel this way? "Harley? Come here." I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly.
Why do I care about her? I'm The Joker. I'm a cold hearted psychopath. I can't possibly be in love with her...
Could I?
Of course not.
She buried her head into my chest, sobbing quietly. I've got to do something. But what? An idea popped into my head, "Harley, I think I can help you."
"What? How?"
I wiped away her tears as she looked up to face me, "If you get me a machine gun, I can help you change. I can fix you..."
