My Puddin'

I stroked Bud and Lou's raggedy brown fur as I lay there on the rickety old cot that Mr. J had found for me. I yawned quietly and snuggled down a little further under the blankets with Bud stretched across my stomach and Lou curled up at my feet. I began to reflect on my past as the sweet warmth of the hyenas' fur engulfed me soothingly. Where had it all begun? What had happened to make me fall in love with a psychopathic, murderous clown? How had I fallen into his tight web of seduction? And did this clown really love me? I began to fall into a sleepy stupor as the familiarity of the memories began to set in, my conscious thoughts blending in with my dreams...1

* * *2

I stared at the man's demonic clown makeup in captivated silence as he reclined on the soft white couch. This was a man who had committed countless murders, many of them innocent people. This was a man who had toed the line between evil and just plain insanity, fooling many before me with much greater skill. This was one of the worst men who had ever walked the earth, right up there with Hitler and all the rest of them. And here I was, a young psychologist with very little experience, almost fresh out of college, and they expected me to be able to handle this man. "We've tried everything else," they'd said in desperation. "Please just give it a shot. You're our only hope, Harleen." And I had finally consented, more out of curiosity than anything else. I wanted to know whether this man was as bad as they had said.3

And then he began to speak in a demonic, yet somehow comically soft voice, his red lips stretching into a horrible grin with every word. And all I could do was listen as this man I hardly knew began to pour his soul out to me, a lost little child with nowhere else to go...4

...and that's how I met my puddin'.5

* * *6

A shock of rage exploded in my chest as I saw what he had done to my puddin. All the lenience I had allowed for the very existence of the Batman, all the times I had forgiven him for his wrongful deeds... but this was too much. Who did he think he was, that he could just dump my angel on the ground, bloody and broken? How did he justify that? Just pushing around a sweet little boy who wanted nothing more than acceptance? The Joker was just a lost soul who wanted people to laugh at his jokes, not a hopeless criminal! But that was it. I would show him... I would show them all...7

I threw myself into the car and slammed the door behind me. I stomped my foot down on the gas pedal and swerved out of the parking lot, tires squealing as I sped out into the street. I poured on even more speed and jerked the steering wheel violently at the slightest of curves. It was lucky that I didn't meet anyone on the road, because I was really not in the mood for games. I slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop in front of an everyday party store. I pulled the door handle on the inside of the car and kicked it open with such force that the door almost swung off its hinges. I sprinted into the store, my eyes wild, my white coat disheveled and my bleach-blond hair askew. I snatched boxes of party gags and a harlequin costume and stormed out the door. The fat man at the cash register began to protest, but I quieted him with a quick kick to the head, scattering whoopee cushions everywhere. I dumped the loot in the car and swerved up back up the road toward Arkham, speeding past the thin security at the gates. I slipped into the costume with a furious ease and dashed up the path to the asylum, knocking a few guards unconscious on my way. I grabbed their guns (couldn't afford to be wasteful, could I?) and continued through the white, dimly lit halls to the cell I knew better than any other.8

A guard appeared behind me and shouted, but I shut him up with a blast of my gun as I shot it in his general direction. He ran scared, sporting a bloody forearm, and the others retreated at his heels.9

I came to the Joker's cell and gazed into his chalk-white face, his adorable eyes staring back at me in awe. He shielded his head with his arms as I raised the grenade above my head, realizing what I was going to do. The glass wall of his cell shattered easily, shards of glass raining down on the spotless white tile. I cocked my hip to the side and tilted the gun up coyly, grinning down on my puddin'.10

"Introducing the new and improved Har-ley Quinn!"11

And we drove off into the night with tires squealing, the Joker laughing wickedly all the way.12

* * *13

I hummed pleasantly as I arranged the flowers on the table specially for my puddin'. I smiled and drew in a deep breath of their sweet, relaxing fragrance. Then I drew back in the nick of time as a royal purple plant snapped at me with a hungry venom. I laughed lightly and covered the arrangement with a sheet. I knew Mister J. would love them. I danced around the wide, open room in our current warehouse hideout, staring up at the high, eerie ceiling that was covered in catwalks and dead lightbulbs as I spun around the table. I pretended to waltz, imagining that my puddin' was there with me, dancing the day away with me simply because he could. I wondered what it would have been like if puddin' had ever actually had enough time for me so we could have done things like that. I tried to remember a day when we had gone out together just for the heck of it, but nothing came to mind. This saddened me, so I sank into a chair with a sigh, tracing the red checkered pattern on the tablecloth.14

I perked up instantly as I heard the back door creak open and slam, followed by the click of dress shoes on the concrete. Possibly purple dress shoes? I squealed at the thought and bounded out into the hallway to greet my puddin'.15

"Welcome home, puddin'! I picked you some flowers--"16

I gasped in surprise and fear as a purple glove smacked me to the ground with cruel dismissal. I lay on the floor and cowered beneath the Joker, not daring to get up or resist. I waited for him to tell me to stand, but the order did not come. Instead, I watched him walk away through slitted eyes, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the way he kept on bringing his hand up to cover his face as if he was ashamed. I felt a pain that went deep, far beyond any physical pain that I had endured from the Joker, though this was a pain that I felt on my own terms. It was the pain of empathy, a deep, aching sorrow that I felt at the thought of my puddin' hurting. The Joker was more important than my own life, and the very thought of him feeling badly was enough to make me stand, an action that could be endangering my life. I padded over to him and hugged him around the middle fearlessly, a big, clownish frown on my face.17

"What's wrong, puddin'? Did something go wrong at work?" I slipped around him and hugged him around the front instead, a much more personal action. I looked up into his face and picked a bit of fluff off his chin that had been sticking to his makeup. I was surprised to find that instead of tensing up or hitting me again, he actually relaxed in my embrace and looked down at me with a sad expression on his face that was almost tender. He pulled off one of his gloves and placed his bare hand against my face lovingly, an action that was rare for him even in the best of moods. This was quite unusual, especially since he seemed to be so vexed. I wondered if it was possibly my very presence that was lightening his humor. At this, an uncontrollable smile broke across my face at the thought of actually being able to cheer my puddin' up for once. I held him a little tighter and waited for him to speak to me.18

"Oh, Harley, it's nothing, really. Just a little quirk, a small variation in my plans. It really has nothing to do with you, Harley, dear. Don't fret over me." He smiled soothingly, and I leaned into him a little more, completely oblivious to any tricks or ruses of his. "But, you know, it would have been ever so helpful," he started, his voice beginning to rise, "If you hadn't gone and left HYENA DROPPINGS from those goddamn animals of yours at the CRIME SCENE!" I flinched just in time as another quick slap connected with my face. I dropped to the floor again as more of his blows rained down on me relentlessly. I endured it timidly, hoping he would calm down before it became too much for me to endure. I didn't want to pass out... or even worse, die. I needed to be there for my puddin'. I couldn't leave him alone when he was like this. He could hurt himself, or get caught by Batman or something. And if they sent him back to that dreadful Arkham... that would just cause more problems. So all I could do was wait for him to work it all out inside his head. Then maybe he would let me help him again.19

All I had to do was wait...