Gotham Love

The beautiful blonde-haired waitress ambled into the kitchen, gold locks bouncing on slender shoulders, glossy red lips pooched out in a look of annoyance and boredom. She had been serving lobster dinners, burgers, and greasy chicken wings to customers all night long, rolling her eyes as they dived ravenously into their meals. The businessmen were the worst. The bastards never tipped, they just watched her ass as she moved around the resturaunt, licking their lips whenever she had to bend over, giving them a generous eyeful of her silky cleavage. The only decent man who didn't make catcalls was Bruce Wayne - the cleanest, wealthiest, most polite man in all of Gotham. Unlike the perverted businessmen or chummy families Bruce left her generous tips, dabbed his chin, combed his hair back and treated her like a human being. He was even more handsome up close, but the young woman knew her adoration hungered for another; someone who didn't possess Wayne's riches or good manners, a man of crime and -1

"Leeny!" An angry voice snapped from the sink. "You gonna daydream or serve the customers? Come on, girl, can't have you sleeping on the job now."2

"I'm going", Leeny said bitterly. The manager of the resturaunt was Janelle Brown, a large, big-shouldered black woman with an afro and squinty little eyes that always blinked rapidly when she was pissed off. It was a horrible, disgusting job: serving the nasty meals, washing the dishes in a kitchen that smelled like grease, wiping sweat from her forehead because it was so hot it felt like a furnance most of the time. Of course, being a waitress sucked, but who else was going to pay for her college tuiton? 3

"You use more muscles when you frown than when you smile, kid."4

"Sorry", Leeny said, pulling her widest, fakest grin that exposed a mouthful of straight white teeth. "Is that better, Janelle?"5

"Look prettier when ya smile", Janelle growled. "Girl like you should be with a nice-looking man, eh? What, you gonna hit the club or sumthin' after this shift? Bet there're lots of men wanting to snatch a looker like you, only ya have to be wary of the slimeballs out there."6

"There's no shortage of them", Leeny sighed, picking up a plate heaped high with batter-dipped fish and a mountain of fries. "What time is it now?"7

"Ten-thirty. You can go home now if you want, but it'll cost ya."8

"Cost me?" Leeny's blue eyes widened in horror. "Y-y-you're FIRING me?"9

Janelle laughed. "No, no! I'm just pulling your leg, sweets. I'll take over after you get that meal to its table. It's dark outside though, you got a car? Need a ride home?"10

"It's okay. I can walk home."11

"Walk? Leeny, you can't walk in the dark this late in a city like Gotham. You'll get robbed or raped, I don't want you alone..."12

"Don't worry about me, really."13

"Why don't you ask Bruce Wayne for a ride?"14

Leeny almost burst out laughing. Bruce? As if someone THAT handsome and articulate would even CONSIDER driving a lowlife like her, some ditzy blonde waitress who worked in a greasebucket resturaunt. As usual, Janelle had no idea what the hell she was talking about. 15

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At 11:00 pm, Gotham looked seedier than usual. The air was ice cold and a strange, glittering fog hung like a thick, dewy curtain in the air, concealing the shadows that shifted in the distance. Leeny shuddered as her high heels clicked across the pavement, her tiny pink purse looped tight around her arm, blonde hair blowing wildly as yet another blast of wind bit at the nape of her exposed neck. Bloody hell, it was freezing! She could see a skinny brown dog curled up by a closed coffee shop, its tail wagging feebly as Leeny approached, reaching out to stroke its soft, dirty ears. There was a homeless man there, too. He didn't even look at her as she hurried by, and for that Leeny was relieved. Three blocks down stretched a grimy, syringe-littered alley that normally housed a bunch of stray cats that searched for food in the dumpster; but now Leeny saw four men wearing tattered leather jackets and smoking pot. The only way to get to her run-down apartment was through the alley, which was apparently blocked off by the four gorilla-like hobos. She stood there, shivering, skin breaking out in gooseflesh as one of the men let out a sharp wolf whistle, grinning at her through stained yellow teeth. 17

"My, my, would you look at that sweet thing. What's your name, blondie? Kind of late to be running around in high heels and lipstick, ain't it?"18

"I was working", Leeny said quickly. "Can I just get by, please?"19

The hobo suddenly threw down his joint and rocked his hips in a little dance, winking at her as he did a series of obscene pelvic thrusts, grabbing his crotch and moaning dramatically while his buddies laughed. 20

"Oh, oh, oh, look at me!" The man groaned, "I so want to fuck you right now, baby, oh yes, you got my sweet spot, just a little bit harder now..."21

Leeny felt her throat constrict in rage. "Leave me alone."22

"Oh, she's getting fiesty", joked one of the hobo's friends. "You better teach her a lesson, Phil. Show blondie who's boss."23

Desperate, Leeny shoved her purse at the man, opening her wallet and flashing a fistful of twenties along with her credit card. 24

"Here, take it, take all of it. There's like six hundred dollars here, enough for you guys to get some nice clothes for yourselves and even a good few meals."25

"I don't want your money", the man said with another sardonic grin. "I want the feel of your tits, babe, and that's something cash can't buy."26

"Get back!" Leeny screamed, kicking and scratching when the man wrestled her to the ground, cheering happily while the rest of his friends pinned down her arms and legs. She spat in the creep's face when his hands shoved up her shirt, then slithered under her bra to grab her breasts, stroking them painfully. Another man caressed her hair as she shook her head back and forth, yelling for help, tears streaming down her cheeks as the bastard unzipped her jeans, slipping his hand down towards her panties...27

"What do you mutts think you're doing?" Roared a deep male voice. 28

"None of your goddamn business", retorted the pig that was still groping Leeny, who now had her eyes closed and was whimpering quietly, pretending this was all just a dream and she would wake up soon enough. 29

"Get off of her, now." The mysterious voice pressed.30

"Or what?" 31

"Or I'll blow your piece-of-shit brains out, scoop them up and throw them in the dumpster where they belong. Get your hands off of her, asshole."32

The man climbed shakily to his feet. Leeny could now see that there was a tall, muscular figure standing in the halo of moonlight from the streetlamp. He was wearing a long, jet-black trenchcoat and had a gun in one hand, pointing it at the dirty thug. It was the strangest thing, but she suddenly recognized the gentleman's build and his voice. He had a ski mask pulled over his face, which was weird, but maybe he was no different than the other scumbags that Gotham produced. Perhaps he was planning on robbing a bank, but the sight of some fugly hobo taking advantage of a pretty blonde girl would be a foul sight to anyone, right? 33

"If you hurt this girl, I'll kill you right now. Are you okay?"34

"I'm fine", Leeny said in a soft whisper, brushing off her jeans. "Who are you?"35

Cold, eerie blue eyes flickered as they examined her face. "My name's Jack. I remember you, from the resturaunt, wanted to hook up with you for a long time."36

"You did?"37

"No. I'm too busy to waste my time on girls, especially pretty ones. Crime is too much work, it doesn't sleep, ever. Gotham city is my playground, robbery and murder are two things that will never get old."38

"Thanks for saving me", Leeny breathed. "But if you don't mind me saying, crime is not a kind lifestyle. It's demanding, exhausting, and requires lots of sweat, tears, and blood to get things done."39

"Ooh, you an expert already?" Jack shook his head. "Girlie, you don't know anything about the thrills of robbery. I run the finest bank heists in the city. Stuffing cash in a bunch of pillowcases never gets old, and I never get caught, because I'm the best at it every time. All the other so-called "crime princes" would be efficient if only they had a plan that worked. Police may have fooled all the rest of those knucklehead goons, but they'll never fool me. You see, when it comes to banks, I'm simply a genius"40

"Genius?" Leeny raised a skeptical brow. "Maybe I should teach you a thing or two about bank heists."41

"Whoa, you went from being the scared rape victim in the alleyway from the daring little punk, what could you possible teach me that would be of any value?"42

"Plenty of things. But first, we need good names and costumes, otherwise we're gonna be nothing but two normal boring people with ski masks and guns. Don't you want more memorable bad guys?"43

"Funny", Jack said, "but I was thinking the same thing myself. What about...clown outfits? I like clowns because they laugh everything off; nothing is taken seriously, and what could be better than that?"44

Leeny, who was always so creative, imagined herself slinking around in a seductive jester outfit, her face caked with sinfully sexy make-up and eyes that could pierce through the heart of anyone that dared judge her. She was tired of being the "pretty one", the dumb waitress with a lame college tuiton fee, that girl who was always checked out by men but never got the nice guy who actually made an effort to be romantic. Jack, to her surprise and delight, was that man, and his idea of living a glamorous life of crime appealed to Leeny. 45

"Okay, how about this: I'll wear a tight harlequin jester outfit and you can call me Harley Quinn. Is that not fabulous?"46

"How about you be my sidekick", Jack said. "I tell you what to do because you're gonna mess everything up anyway, and if I have to call you that stupid name then YOU can call me Joker. How's that sound? I don't take anything seriously, life's just a game meant to be played or forgotten, and I'm going to play it well."47

"But Batman will get in the way", Harley said, ignoring the memory of Bruce smiling at her in the resturaunt. "Didn't you think that over, Jack?"48

"It's Joker now. And yes, obviously that nocturnal idiot will be a thorn in my side, but it doesn't matter. What we need now is some costumes, so don't worry about that maggot; it's all taken care of."49

Harley felt herself relax. It was as if Joker and her were meant to be together after all - the two of them kissing tenderly in the moonlight, sitting on each other's laps by the fireplace - it would be the magazine cover of the perfect couple. She could hardly wait to get the jester costume. 50

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He was flawless. Harley sat on the edge of the bed, mesmerized, her astonished eyes drinking in the sight of Joker checking himself out in the bathroom mirror, slicking back his hair, completley ignoring how her mouth hung open in a perfect O of shock. 52

"You...look...dashing."53

"Flattery doesn't get you anywhere with me, sugarcubes."54

"Mistah J, we're gonna knock 'em dead, aren't we?"55

"Gotham doesn't know what's coming", Joker said, straightening the collar of his livid purple suit. Bruce Wayne seemed so unimportant now - not with her puddin all dressed up in his new suit, his gloved hands constantly fussing with his hair in the mirror. What Harley loved the most was her darling's new face: thick white powder smeared over his smooth skin, the inky black smudged around his gorgeous blue eyes, and sexiest of all; that bleeding red gloss that had been expertly applied on his lips so it trailed upwards in a trademark smile. Harley knew Mistah J had gotten a vicious scar that crawled up his cheek, and the crimson paint made it gleam harshly in the light, making her feel excited and turned on in a way she couldn't explain. Was it the way he scowled at her? The way he showered her with hundred dollar bills, stuffing them down her bra and calling her a cheap whore that did nothing but slow him down. Sometimes Joker would slap her, but even the feel of his hand on her skin aroused her, and if she was good, he even let her caress his broad shoulders, give her a moment's peace to imagine the two of them making animalistic love. 56

"It's time to take out the trash", Joker said, snapping shut the barrel of a semi-automatic pistol. "You know what, Harley, we look kind of mismatched with me having this scar and you without one."57

"Make it quick, Mistah J", Harley said, squeezing her eyes shut. Joker, rolling his eyes, sidled up beside her on the bed, and with a giddy smile, flipped open his knife so he could admire his own polished reflection in the shiny blade. Ever-so-carefully, he pressed the tip into Harley's porcelian white flesh, drawing a wide arc that went from her chin halfway up her cheek. The cut was deep and bloody, so Joker had to wipe the blood hastily, cursing when Harley let out a yelp of pain. 58


"It's like getting a needle, isn't it?" He teased her, secretly enjoying her agony. "Just a surge of pain and it's all over. You want a lollipop, sweets?"59

"Shut up", Harley said, annoyed. 60

"Aww, cheer up pumpkin pants. It wasn't that bad." He moved his hands up the sleek black-and-red fabric of her firm thighs, chuckling as the idiotic bells on her hat tinkled noisily when she threw it off. Harley wrapped her arms around Joker's shoulders, relishing the chiseled feel of his biceps through the suit. He brushed a droplet of blood with the pad of his thumb and stood up, kicking her jester hat across the room, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 61

"Enough of that, let's go rob some banks."62

"I'm right behind you!" Harley squealed happily, bolting towards the doorway when Joker stuck her hat back on her blonde head, slamming the door shut behind them. 63