The Imperfect Art of Madness (Jerome/Harleen)

Chapter Eight - Big Fun

There was an explosion far off in the distance, orange flames licking at the night sky. Harley girl had been fidgeting in her seat ever since they'd left the hideout but she stopped at the sound, turning to look.

The streetlights brought her to life, gilding her features and deepening her shadows. She looked crazy.

Perfectly crazy.

Hell, it had been bad enough when she'd appeared at the top of the stairs in that kooky get up with her hair in pigtails and a big beautiful smile on her face. He'd almost short circuited at the sight. But now, in the night air of the real world, she'd truly come alive. The carefully applied makeup on her doll face making her look beautiful and frightening all at once. Approachable and dangerous. Kiss or kill.

His Harley. A walking contradiction.

"What was that?" She asked as the van drove on, craning her neck to see the damage as they hurtled through the narrow streets. Another explosion bursting against the horizon. And another.

A slow clap to his achievements.

"That Harley Girl was my gift to parents everywhere," he grinned, smug satisfaction curling like a cat around his ribs as he leant back in his seat, "no cell phone towers, no cell phones! The kids will have to talk to each other for a change - shock horror!"

"But why?" she asked, tongue snaking catlike over her lipstick as she watched them go up in a line. The distant fire flickering in her eyes like it had always been there.

"Why not?" He shrugged, tugging at her hair to get her to sit still again, to focus on him like she should do, "Besides we needed a little distraction, something to keep the piggies off balance while we redistribute some of the city's wealth."

That shocked her, dazed blue eyes turning glass sharp as they fixed on his again. The fire was still there. He knew it would be.

"You're going to rob a bank?" Her brows shot up and he found himself chuckling, clucking her under the chin as her mouth parted in surprise.

"Nooo," he shook his head, "we're going to rob a bank. Well, we're getting the money out anyway, sharing the love. Ah - pull over Bucko,"

Jerome pulled his hands away from Harley as the bank came into view, he was being far too handsy already. Ungentlemanly in the extreme. She just looked so touchable tonight with her fluffy skirt and smooth skin, tactile. And he always got itchy fingers before a big show, adrenaline roaring in his ears like the open ocean as shivers chased beneath his skin.

The anticipation was everything.

"It's Geronimo, boss." The henchman interrupted his thoughts, pulling him back to himself as he drew the van into the side.

"Really?" That was odd, he squinted at the reflection the rear view mirror, "what happened to Bucko?"

"Uh - you killed him boss. A while ago."

"Did I?" He lifted his eyebrows before shrugging and loading up his gun, focused once more. "Oh well. That's how it goes."

The sidewalk outside was crowded with reporters, they'd gathered in front of the palatial edifice for the grand reopening ceremony that was due to start at any minute. The one that had been planned for weeks. They'd scattered a little, cameras at odd angles as tried to follow the distant chaos, the bank manager stuttering and starting with his giant scissors in the middle of it all.

Jerome would get them back on track soon enough.

They didn't know it yet but they were waiting for him to get there, practically begging him to take charge and give Gotham what it really craved. Money. Mayhem. Chaos. Ready for him to reveal his protege, his best joke yet. A coupla weeks and a lot of elbow grease and he'd stripped back her sanity like layers on an onion. Carefully whittling away to the juicy, vicious centre within.