Title: Sympathy for the Devil

by: Satine16

Disclaimer: None of the characters in the following story belong to me. They are all property of DC comics. I'm doing this for fun and not for money! Please don't sue me!

Chapter 6: Guardian Demon

"You crazy ass motherfucker!" Alex screamed as the Joker tied him into the chair.

"Tsk, tsk! You'd kiss your mother with that mouth!" the Joker chuckled and pinched him on the cheek. "Hold his mouth open, Harl."

"I'll kill you for this! You slut!" Alex was practically foaming from the mouth.

Harley scrambled over to him, her robe loose and hanging from her shoulders, almost exposing her breasts. Her hair was tangled and her hands were shaking. As she reached out he tried to bite her. She screamed. The Joker punched him and made his nose bleed.

"Hold him!" he bellowed.

Harley pulled him and turned his face to the sky, prying his jaw open.

Making grand motions the Joker pushed a bright orange funnel onto his mouth and down his throat. Alex gagged.

Brandishing a large bottle of bleach the Joker sat down next to Alex. "You can't kill her if you're already dead! HEHEHE!"

He uncapped it with two motions of his long fingers and wafted the fumes towards his sharp nose.

Raising himself to his full height he started to pour the rancid smelling liquid down his throat. Alex squirmed and choked and fought, until he didn't. Blood curdled with the bleach inside the funnel and the smell of ammonia mixed with the smell of copper.

Harley let go and backed away from the body, wide eyed.

"Go get dressed," he barked, and sat down next to the gurgling body.

Harley stood still for a moment, watching him.

"And wear something nice. I can't let you ruin my image!" he grinned even wider and straightened his suit coat.

Harley dashed up the stairs and let her robe fall to the floor. Standing nude in front of her closet she contemplated her clothing. Pulling an inky blue sheath dress from her closet, she laid it out on the bed. She stepped into a lacy black thong, bra and garter belt to match. Slipping her nude thigh highs up and attaching them, she slipped into the dress. Pulling a large, black, Prada tote from the closet she shoved one little black dress inside, along with a red baby doll teddy. She couldn't decide why she was doing it, but it just seemed right. Stepping into her round toed black pumps, she stepped in front of the mirror. Grabbing the closest brush she tamed her damp, messy hair and tied it into a sleek knot. Dumping the contents of her purse into her tote she rummaged for some make up and fixed her face.

Taking one last look in the mirror, she went to close her bag. Her Harlequin outfit caught her eye from the corner. Dashing to the other side of the room she grabbed it and the makeup she had used that morning and shoved those into the tote as well.

When she emerged from the room she found the Joker pacing in the living room, taking animatedly to Alex's upturned, lifeless face.

The sound of her shoes against the tile drew his attention.

"Yeeees?" he spoke the word with a warning.

"I just wanted to say thank you," her voice quaked.

The Joker just stared, and raised one eyebrow.

"He was going to kill me."

"Who's to say I won't?"

"Oh. Well," she walked slowly over to where he was standing, "I just wanted to give you a proper thank you," she leaned in and kissed him. At first it felt like she was kissing teeth, but soon enough his deep red lips met her glossy pink ones and he chuckled a little.

The Joker gave her a wolf whistle in response.

"M'lady," he offered her his arm. He was so much taller than she. In her heels her head just reached past his shoulder.

She smiled and said polite thank you. She even found that she meant it.

They slid into the back seat of the Rolls Royce and a hulking man wearing white face paint drove them back to the theatre. The entire ride the Joker sat stooped, drumming his fingers together rhythmically. He was thinking.

In fact, he was thinking what he wanted to do with her exactly. She was quite good looking. He had wanted to kill her. Now he was stuck with her. An interesting predicament.

She walked slowly behind him, her high heels clicking against the stage floor. She stood quietly and watched him as he talked to his three guards.

He beckoned for her to follow him and she did. Soon enough they were standing in what she could only assume used to be the old wardrobe room. Only now it had been made over into a bedroom for the notorious Clown Prince of Crime.

Slipping his shoes off and throwing his gloves onto the vanity, he turned to her and began barking orders.

"Lock the door."

She did as she was told.

He hung his suit coat on a chair and sat down.

"Come here."

Again she obeyed.

"Take off your dress."

She paused a moment, frightened, but again complied.

"Sit."

She lowered herself onto his lap and inhaled sharply. He had a hard on.

Sliding his hands down her toned legs he slipped off her shoes. Slowly, he traced the back seam of her stockings and undid her garters.

Her breathing was shallow, and her eyes were wide as she watched him. Carefully, she followed his slender fingers as they danced over her abdomen and back and to the clasp of her bra. He undid it and she let the garment fall to the floor, holding her breath and waiting.

Licking his lips slowly, he just looked at her for a moment before taking her breast into his mouth. She gasped as he did and began rocking her hips back and forth against his.

Pulling away to look her in the eye, he pushed the black lace underpants out of the way and slid his fingers inside.

"Naughty girl," his voice was guttural, "You're all wet."

She bit her bottom lip, almost feeling ashamed. She writhed against him as he played with her, and she felt herself coming to climax. He pulled away leaving a confused and sad expression on her face.

"You have to do for me, first."

Nodding in assent, she unzipped his fly and slipped down onto her knees.

Meanwhile, the Gotham Police force and the Batman had invaded Harley's apartment.

"Who was he?"

"Her boyfriend."

"Where is she?" the Batman's voice was harsh and cold.

"Gone," Gordon replied sadly.

"That means he's got her."

"That's what I was afraid of," Gordon said, sounding defeated. "Do you think she's still alive?"

"That's what I'm afraid of."