Disclaimer: DC Comics owns everything! Semi-graphic adult situation alert.

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Hot, moist, and slightly bumpy, the muscle sliding back and forth through her sex was driving Harley insane.

One of the Joker's hands gripped her hip so hard she could feel the bruises starting to form; the long, elegant fingers of his other hand lightly pinched and teased each of her nipples until she wanted to beg him to stop. Face buried between her naked thighs, the Joker never stopped his coordinated ministrations.

She had undressed for him earlier - tossing her clothing aside willy nilly - and he had followed her like a panther. Harley had almost laughed at the sight of The Joker picking up each article of her clothes and sniffing at it before hanging it in his closet lovingly.

A moan broke free from her throat as he pierced her with his tongue, again and again.

He growled low in his throat, the sound one of deep satisfaction, and increased the pace of his mouth.

Harley's back arched just as something inside her shattered...

"OH GOD!"

One last long, passionate lick from the bottom to the top of her sex and he pulled away from her; breathing heavily and rolling his eyes around as though he were drunk. The Joker's hair was plastered to his head with sweat and the paint on his face was mostly worn away leaving only his eyes, part of his nose, and his forehead still streaked.

"You rang?" He inquired with a manic, exhausted grin.

Harley was so weak, her body still experiencing pleasurable aftershocks, she barely had the strength to look at him. "You're still dressed."

He had pushed her back on the bed earlier and once he'd started in with his mouth... well, Harley had forgotten about everything. Including the fact he had never taken his clothes off and he hadn't yet received the same sort of satisfaction she had.

The Joker was on his feet in seconds, pushing his greasy hair back with both hands. "Yeah and I really need a shower before we continue, Harls. I smell like goat testicles."

Harley laughed. "How do you know what goat testicles smell like?"

"You'd be surprised," he giggled as he shrugged out of his jacket. "and probably disgusted so I'll keep that particular piece of knowledge all to myself." The Joker disappeared into the bathroom and lightly shut the door.

She could hear him moving around before the shower started.

Yawning, Harley got to her feet and made her way to the bathroom. The air already carried a hint of steam as she made her way to the counter. Grabbing a bathing cap, Billy had picked it up for her, she tucked her newly dyed hair up inside and headed straight for the shower.

To her surprise, the glass door slid open and a very wet Joker was staring down at her.

"Thought you might want to tidy up."

She didn't hesitate, but stepped inside.

The Joker slid the door shut behind her and handed her the shower gel she favored. "Go ahead and scrub up, sugarlips. I promise not to molest you."

Harley's eyes widened as they slid down his naked, very wet body.

He had scars everywhere - not just on his face!

It seemed as though the Joker had been hurt in every possible way - gunshots, stabbings, and vicious beatings had left marks across an otherwise magnificent physique. He was muscular, but in a lean, almost feline manner; no heavy bulk, just clearly defined muscles rippled across his body. The suit he wore really did hide how fit he actually was.

The Joker was busy washing his hair and didn't notice Harley's horrified perusal.

The only parts of his body free of scars were his neck, forearms, hands, feet, and genitals.

A particularly savage, ragged scar which would match his Glasgow Smile quite nicely ran from his left shoulder blade and across his back to end in a deep pucker on his right buttock. This was the type of wound which landed one in the hospital - for weeks, if not months.

With a shaking hand, Harley followed the trail of abuse; feathering her fingers lightly over him until she reached his damaged buttock. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she began to gently massage the scar all the while pressing kisses over his back.

"What the hell?" The Joker asked hoarsely.

She continued to touch him as gently as she could while tears rolled down her paint streaked face. "Does it hurt?"

He had gone rigid under her fingers. "Sometimes," he conceded in a low voice. "When the temperature dips below zero or if its damp."

Harley eased herself in front of him; noting with satisfaction he was aroused again. "Do you want me to kiss you and make it all better?"

The Joker's brow rose as he stared down at her; ignoring the shampoo suds inching dangerously close to his eyes. "Harley," he pinched her nose playfully. "flattered as I am - this isn't the time or place." He immediately shoved his head under the water rinsing his hair thoroughly.

She reached out and trailed her forefinger across the turgid length of his sex. "Why not?"

Like a flash of lightening, she was pinned to the wall.

He loomed over her like some damaged version of Mars himself - his eyes glittering pits of fire. Leaning casually against his arm; he held her pinned to the shower wall by her throat. When she started to kick, struggling for air, he simply pressed himself fully against her.

"Because I said so." He spoke politely as though she were a small child. "We don't have any protection and I'm not shoving junior here into candy land until there is. I have no desire to be pulling a little Joker or Harley out of my dynamite stash. Get it?"

Harley could barely breath when he took his arm away. She nodded, gasping and rubbing her throat, tears of pain welling in her eyes. The fact he hadn't simply dropped her to the shower floor surprised her considering how angry he really was.

"Sorry," she managed a pained whisper.

The Joker touched her face gently and she winced. "C'mon," he pulled her under the spray. "Let's get you all washed up and tucked into bed, Harley."

She was amazed at the calculated efficiency - and kindness - those lithe hands of his were capable of. Harley found herself scrubbed clean in under ten minutes flat. He hummed a strange little ditty she'd never heard before as he dried her off before taking care of himself.

Lifting her into his arms, he held her close as he crossed the room and deposited her on the bed. In the blink of an eye she found herself clothed in one his gym tee shirts and tucked under the covers. He wandered around the room straightening a few out of place items before pulling on a pair of gym shorts and sitting on the edge of the bed.

The Joker leaned toward her and grinned. "Knew I forgot something... odd." He pulled off her bathing cap and stared at it. "Getting in bed with you wearing this could have proved a mite awkward; like sliding under the sheets with Granny." Pulling a face, he stood. "I'm surprised."

Catching Harley's inquiring gaze, he let out a harsh chuckle. "See after everything I've done, it shocks me I have moral objections at all to any immoral scenario."

"Like getting in bed with someone who reminds you of grandma." She rasped.

"Exactly."

He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment before reappearing empty handed. Lifting the covers, he slid into bed and stared up at the ceiling; making no attempt to touch her at all. "Now Harley, I'm gonna have to lay down some very basic rules pertaining to our, ah, relationship."

"Okay."

Satisfied she was listening, the Joker continued. "Never, under any circumstances, will you put your hands on me in front of my men or out in public unless I direct you to do so. This is a very important rule to remember and its for your own protection and mine - if anyone starts to suspect you're my, uh, main squeeze as it were - this could be used against me." Turning his head toward her, Harley was surprised by the frown he was wearing. "I would hate to have to kill you when I kinda like you, kiddo."

She put her hand in the air and his dark eyes widened. "This isn't third grade, Harley. You don't need to raise your hand."

"But we're sleeping in the same room together," Harley managed to push past her still tender throat.

"So?" The Joker arched one eyebrow. "Most of my men aren't the sharpest tools in the shed and they've seen me move the cot in here so I'm not too worried. Still, there are one or two besides Billy who have half a brain, and if they see us all kissey face with each other - it wouldn't be good. I have enough to worry about as it is."

Harley edged closer to him. "Like what?"

"Oh I had a guest the other night who divulged we have a leaky ship." The Joker's expression turned furious before relaxing. "I just need to figure out who the rat is so I can dispose of him properly." He reached out and tousled her hair. "This brings us to rule number two - don't worry about a thing, babe, just follow my instructions to the letter without fail."

"Are there any other rules?"

He snickered and tickled her under the chin. "No, I try not to make too many rules since I'm not so fond of following them myself - no one likes a hypocrite." The gravity in his eyes made her uneasy. "I really don't want to kill you, Harley, so I need you to mind what I'm telling you."

She nodded. "I will, I promise, Boss."

Without warning, he pulled her against him. "Good," The Joker was tense, but he relaxed slowly as he brushed her bangs away from her forehead. "When we're in here - like this - don't call me boss."

"No?"

"Call me Jack."

Harley stared up at him.

The Joker smirked. "Stupid, boring name, I know, but if I'm banging you, I prefer hearing you say it as opposed to some others."

"I like it... Jack." She whispered.

A soft, high-pitched laugh, almost ending on a sob, broke from his chest. "Harley - you would." He shook his head and tapped her on the nose. "Go to sleep. We have lots to do tomorrow."

Long after she had fallen to sleep, the Joker remained awake.

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Sharon Kennison was shocked at the appearance of the woman standing in front of her.

Northington Street was in a quiet, upper middle class neighborhood in the northwest portion of the city. The locals were well educated people who lived in tidy bungalows, stately Victorian homes, and graceful pre-war apartment buildings decorated with window boxes overflowing with colorful flowers. The schools were sought after, the restaurants haute cuisine, and the high end boutiques frequented by Gotham's elite.

The woman who answered the door simply didn't fit.

She was dumpy looking; frowsy dishwater blonde hair, shadowed, faded green eyes, and a deeply lined face that belied her forty-nine years. Dressed in a tattered blue sweater which had seen better days and a long, beige skirt with brown stains along the hem - she looked more like a bag lady than the purported homeowner.

"I'm looking for Peggy Elliot."

The woman eyed Sharon with distrust. "I'm Peggy Elliot. Do I know you?"

Sharon shook her head. "No, I'm Sharon Kennison..."

"The new District Attorney?" Peggy snorted. "Well lucky me! Whadd'ya want?"

"Are you Colleen Quinzel's sister?" Sharon was glad one of her assistants had offered to drive her; there was a hint of instability which lingered around the other woman.

Peggy's face turned cold; her eyes like those of a dead fish. "Yeah - sadly." She lit a cigarette and began to smoke. "So what is this all about? I haven't got all day, my husband will be home soon."

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions about what happened to your sister and her family..."

"Why?" Peggy blew out a ring of smoke. "Harleen killed 'em all."

Sharon frowned. "We believe someone else was responsible. There is DNA evidence that Joe Quinzel wasn't the biological father of any of those children; in fact none of the children had the same father. I was hoping you might be able to give me some insight as to your sister's mindset."

Peggy shook her head and laughed - a cold, bitter sound devoid of any real emotion. "A whore down in the Narrows could give you better insight on Colleen than me. Look, I gotta be honest, she was a raving slut, okay? I don't know anything more than you do."

"If you knew Colleen was unfaithful to her husband," Sharon asked quietly. "Why didn't you share that with the investigating detectives?"

Peggy rolled her eyes. "Why bother? Harleen was always a little out there. I figured the girl did the deed. I ain't got anything else to say so beat it." The woman ducked back into her well manicured bungalow and slammed the door in Sharon's face.

Sharon turned on her heel and returned to her assistant's car; her face set in a grave expression. 'Something is rotten in Denmark.'

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"Master Wayne, are you certain the time is right for intervening?"

Bruce raised his eyes from the view his penthouse balcony afforded him and turned to face his butler. "Alfred, the Joker escaped from Arkham over three months ago and the Gotham police department seem unable to find him. Should I just wait for him to start another reign of terror?"

The older man shook his head. "No, sir, but perhaps you should allow him to make the first move. You have your own freedom to consider before you go off half-cocked."

"Have I ever gone off half-cocked?" Bruce drawled, grinning.

Alfred's eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

Bruce shook his head and tried not to laugh at the annoyed expression slowly seeping over his friend's face. "Don't worry, I intend to make my main focus aiding the new DA in discovering what happened in the Quinzel case. If I can find Harleen Quinzel, I'll have the Joker."

"Sharon Kennison is a fine young woman."

Bruce ignored Alfred's deliberate hint. "She isn't Rachel."

Alfred took on a tired, defeated look upon hearing Bruce's words. "No, sir, she certainly isn't Miss Dawes, but Miss Dawes was unique. I think you would find, sir, there are other fine, unique, young women in this world who could make you happy if you gave them a chance."

"A chance to be killed like Rachel?" Bruce asked sarcastically. "I think I've had quite enough, thank you. Sharon is my friend, Alfred, and she is going to remain my friend - nothing more, nothing less."

"Of course, Master Wayne."

Bruce frowned and turned his attention back out to his magnificent view of Gotham and away from the loneliness of his own heart.

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-A/N- Please read and review. Thank you to all those who have taken the time to review, I appreciate it! Also, thank you to all those who like the story enough to put it on your favorites/story alert lists. I'm very nervous about writing any sort of smut, so it won't be happening on a regular basis in the story. I'm going to Vermont to visit friends so my next update won't be until early next week, but it will be full of action and ass kicking!