Prompt: What happened after Harley fell into the chemical Vat (these one shots have no relation to any of my other stories)

The Aftermath of Psychological Warfare

The Joker drives back to his penthouse as Harleen – who just took a dive into a chemical vat – giggles absentmindedly, adjusting to the hum and slightly itchiness of her body.

By the time he parks and gets out, she's opening her own door – damn near falling down. He gets to her as she stumbles out and laughs even louder than in the car.

"Okay, Dopey, let's get you inside before you start tryin' to strip." He grins and she squeals, giggling more when he picks her up and totes her to his apartment.

She gets back to her feet once he shuts and locks the door and she scratches the dry residue of the chemicals off her face.

"I don't know about you, but I need a shower." He comments and she looks at him as if she's a little lost. "What?"

"I feel funny." She admits and he tries not to smile.

"You'll feel fine after a shower." He assures her.

"But none of my shampoo or anything is—"

"—All of your essentials and cloths were brought by while you were out and about in the streets of Gotham being the clingy little child you are."

"How did you arrange that, huh? You just knew I was gonna convince you to give me a chance?"

"Oh, no, no, no, dear." He tsks and she furrows her brows. "I knew that once I opted to leave your apartment that has acted as a sinful playground for our frowned upon, filthy, urges ever since you broke me out of Arkham, you'd chase after me. So in the meantime, I got Johnny to bring all your stuff here because I am always two miles ahead of you and knew what you would pull. So technically speaking, no I didn't intend for this to happen, yet I did intend for this to happen."

"The Joker actually having a plan? Never heard of it."

"Wedding planners plan. Teachers plan. Doctors plan. Cops plan. The bat plans. I plot. There's a difference. One's illegal and potentially harmful, and the other one is just playing it safe. Now, if you'll excuse me, the dried chemicals are starting to irritate my skin in places I don't particularly fancy."

"Oh, good I'm not the only one." She sighs with relief and heads to the bathroom.

.

Harley stares at her reflection in the mirror of the bathroom after she pulls her nightie on and starts towel drying the ends of her stained hair.

How'd her life get there? How'd she go from being his doctor to being his . . . Well . . . just his in general.

Her head aches a little, a little anger, a little frustration and a whole lot of confusion.

One minute he was telling her to go away, the next he was talking to her as if he was worshipping her and the next, she wasn't even herself anymore. Bleached skin and hair had replaced her old self. And a much more laid back and humorous demeanor has taken over.

She flinched when she felt something pulling her hair to the side, and when her vision focused back to the mirror, she saw it was Joker.

He hums softly, pressing light kisses to her neck and she breathes out with a big smile.

"What?" He mumbles against her skin.

"Does this mean we're together now or am I still the Doctor your fucking just for bragging rights?"

He raises his brows and grins like a shark.

"You think I've been sneaking over to your place in the dead of the night to bring you immense pleasure, just so I can brag that I'm fucking my doctor – former doctor?" He corrects himself. "I've been doing all that so I can see you. I like seeing you." He tells her. "Even when you look like a hot mess with no makeup and your hair in a shitty bun with a mouth full of fried rice."

"That happened once!" She hits his arm. "And you usually tell me when you're coming over but you didn't that time and I got home and got comfortable and ordered dinner. Excuse me for not wanting to starve."

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I like a woman who can keep a mouthful." He winks provocatively and her mouth opens in shock before she hits him again and walks past him to the bedroom.

"Which side of the bed is yours?" She asks, glancing at the kingsize mattress.

"Whichever side I end up on tonight." He shrugs and she arches a brow at what he's implying. "Who knows, might end up on the kitchen floor or the staircase three floors down, depends on how wild I feel like getting tonight."

"You have fun with that," she crawls into the bed and gets under the covers. "I'm mentally and physically exhausted and just need sleep."

"Hell, I'm not complaining." He scoffs, following her. "Been sleeping with you every night for the past two months, my balls need a break, anyway."

"You say that like it's my fault," she teases him. "It ain't like I call you and tell you to come over and have sex with me. You do that yourself."

"I do not! I went over there to simply visit, see how your day went, how you were doing and then you'd stare at me with those seductive little glances and play it off all innocent and leave me with blue balls until I'd initiate fucking."

"It's not my fault you—"

"—Everything about us is your fault. All I wanted was to get out of Arkham by befriending the new Doctor and bending her to my will but nope. Couldn't do that. Just had to catch feelings for the little dose of action on the side." He sighs and she frowns a little.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well it ain't ever happened before, so we'll see how me having a gal turns out."

"It's gonna be fine. I just jumped into a thing of Chemicals for you so it better be, at least, or I just did all this for nothin'." She replies and he smiles in the dark.

"I highly doubt it was for nothing. Something good's gonna come out of this. What exactly, is yet to be determined."

"Why me?" She asks next and he looks at her in the pitch black of the room.

"Why you what?"

"Out of all those doctors, even the nurses . . . why decide to do all this with me?"

"Because I knew if I didn't chew you up and spit you out, the world would've. And it wouldn't have given you a place to stay and a hot new look, like I have."

"So in a way, you saved me from the world. And you knew you were saving me." She's flattered, and it doesn't falter.

"Oh, sweetie, I would've loved to see the world piss on your parade. It was yourself I was saving you from."

"What? Why?" She whispers and he chuckles.

"I've lived those 9:00 to 5:00 jobs. I've drank coffee at 7:00 in the morning while reading the paper. I've drove around in my middle class vehicle and earned my disappointing pay check. I've payed taxes and bills . . . I've lived a mundane life. And it damn near killed me. I didn't want to see you do all the shit I did."

"So, what now?" She asks next and he yawns.

"We get some sleep, wake up, and figure out what the hell we're gonna do next."