Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

Building up or breaking down of Harleen Quinzel	By : Risen86 Category: DC Verse Comics > Suicide Squad Views: 6735 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Suicide Squad, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
19
Harley
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel and survey the entrance to the Asylum parking lot. I've parked the rented car in a dark corner across the street where I can watch the building out of view of the security cameras. I don't want to do this; I want to put the car in drive and speed all the way back to Mr. J's hideout. I want to wrap my arms around him and smother with him in as much affection as he'll tolerate from me. The problem with that plan is he won't tolerate any affection at this point, he's made that pretty clear; he won't have me back until I do this.
Gathering my hair off my shoulders, I tie it in a tight bun at the back of my head; I am going to do this. I know there is something inherently wrong about asking a partner, which in the very least is what I am to him, to prove their love or devotion. If your loved one doesn't know how you feel about them then there must be something fundamentally wrong with your relationship… This is true for average people who are capable of making and sustaining relationships; Mr. J is not an average anything and relationships are not his forte. If I have to force myself out of my comfort zone, which is clearly what he wants from me, to prove to him that I love him so be it.
I zip up my black sweatshirt, pull the hoodie up to cover my head and slip my arms through the shoulder straps of my grey bag before starting my easy jog towards the Asylum. I can feel the chill of early winter in the air and my breath is coming out is little bursts of mist in front of my face. My heart is beating like the hooves of a racehorse, the rush of fear and excitement push my feet into gear. I stick to the shadows as I jog into the parking lot; I won't make the same mistake I did when I barged in to visit Mr. J. The cameras are up and running again but if I'm smart I should be able to avoid the bulk of them and stay undetected long enough to do what I need to do.
I jog through the parking, past the path towards the main entrance and around the building to the back entrance; when reach there I pause. I rub my glove-covered hands together and look up at the new surveillance cameras that have been installed on the walls by the door; the back is not an option either. I turn away and head back in the direction I came from; there is another way in. I spot the window when I've reached about halfway along the side of the building; it's a little high up and I won't be able to reach it unless I can propel myself up.
What was a fence a few yards down is now a wall running along the side and back ends of the building; slipping my thin leather gloves onto my hands, I take a few seconds to judge the distance from the ground to the window and from the outside wall to the building wall. I won't get much of a running start but if I time my push offs right I should be able to make the window in three jumps. I run the short distance and make the first push of but my foot slips on the second and my face bounces of the building wall before landing hard on the ground.
I gather myself off the floor, face stinging and dust my pants off; I try again and this time I almost feel the windowsill just brush past my fingertips.
"Urrrggghhh!" I growl in frustration.
I reach the sill on my third try though; I pull myself up through the window and slip stealthily to my feet. I make an exasperated noise when I realize that I'm standing in Dr. Schumer's office; rolling my eyes I pull my hood back up over my head. As I walk through the dark room I use some hair clips I'd placed in my back pocket to clip my hood onto my hair then, with my hand on the door handle I pause.
I need to get into the Drug Storage Room and to do that I need a card key; I have my own and my plan was to use it if I couldn't filch a set from the guards but I turn around and eye Schumer's desk. A giddy and mildly devious feeling comes over me and I do a cartwheel towards Dr. Schumer's desk before ransacking it in search for his cardkey.
Batman
I spot Bullock standing on the sidewalk beside the precinct; using his worn brown fedora to block out the chill wind that unsteadied the flame, he brings the lighter closer to the cigarette at his lips. He has been put in charge of finding the whereabouts of Gordon and so far all he has managed to do is litter the pavement with cigarette buds. Incompetence is an inescapable fact of human nature and it's frequency is mind numbing.
Jim is one of the few people that both Bruce and I can agree on; he is a strong, decent man with a resolve as steely as ours. Jim is capable and smart but I knew, even as I rushed over to save that little girl, that he was going to loose Joker. I wouldn't have held it against him, that monster is easy to loose; I hadn't counted however on Joker taking Jim with him.
My gloved hands tense as I watch Bullock flick his cigarette roach on the pavement then lift his hat to block the wind and light up again. Bruce had spent the previous night trying desperately to sleep but managed only to toss and turn until he gave in to his thoughts: he's got Jim Gordon and no one other than Batman will be able to get him back. We'd gone downstairs into the Batcave and I went to work trying to find Gordon.
The guilt on it's own for leaving him alone with Joker was damn near unbearable; but I know if I don't get him back it's only going to get worse. Jim has information, not only vital knowledge pertinent to the police department but also to me; he knows where Robin is and if I don't get him back soon so will Joker.
Lunging off the roof of the building on the opposite side of the street I use my cape to glide down and land silently beside Bullock. The cigarette smoke wafts up around his head and leaves the suffocating stench of it in the brisk air.
"Any progress ?" I don't know why I bother asking; I already know the answer but I take a mildly twisted pleasure in Bullock's initial reflexive fear at my presence.
He gets himself under control "No, nothing that I can share with you."
My hands clench again; the police department has taken possession of all footage pertaining to the events at the zoo and I have been unable to get my hands on any of it. If I want to get Jim out alive I need to do it soon; I need a starting point. I need that footage.
"Let me see the footage. I can hel-"
"No. I have been put in charge of this investigation and I will not share information with a two-bit caped vigilante."
My hands clench again in frustration, unfortunately as I was saying earlier stupidity is a fact of human nature and it's frequency is rather unbearable.
Joker
I sink further down into my seat, one arm defensively over my abs the other swirling the amber liquid around in the snifter. The TV is on and I stare uninterested at the screen; instead my mind is occupied with ('drowning in' is a more accurate description) the fact that I couldn't kill her… Do you people understand? I couldn't kill her. Me, Joker, couldn't kill; I throw the liquid down my throat and slam the glass on the counter beside me.
I love you… I told you I'm crazy for you… just the words set my hair on end (not in a bad way either). I stretch my neck out and lick my lips "I should have killed you when I had my balls…" I grumble to myself while crossing my legs at the ankle. She is a great lay (really great) and she is more than a little entertaining but love? I move around uncomfortably in my seat; people don't love me (for obvious reasons) and I definitely don't-
The door bangs behind me and I raise my head "That crazy shrink back yet?"
"Nah." I eye Frost as he walks over to the fridge behind the bar and pulls out a corona. My mind wanders back to Harley underneath me with her bust pushing out of her half-open shirt (mmm) and that twit walking in on us; I grin.
"What was that idiot's name again?" He pauses with the bottle to his lips and looks at me "Wh-" he stops his question when he sees the look I'm giving him.
"That was Frankie, boss."
I'm not usually very good with names (especially those of insignificant buffoons) but that name rings a bell. I distinctly remember some ridiculous spat between JonnieJonnie and the dearly departed Frankie. It appears, friends, that good ol' Jonnieboy's up to his old tricks again (gotta luv'him).
"You didn't like Frankie, very much did you?" I watch as his controlled expression wavers then sets in self-assuredness.
"No, I didn't." My lips pull up in a smile at him then I turn back towards the television "Hah…" I pour myself another drink "Good on you for taking his life in your hands Jonnieboy."
"Thanks boss." He takes a swig of his drink; the front door bangs open again and we both turn to face it.
The beautiful (bane) of my life is standing at the door; hair high up on her head, cheeks and nose rosy and her eyes lit up with adoration (bad bad news). She walks over to me and drops her black bag on the floor in triumph, so sure that she's won (so naïve); she doesn't realize that the fun's just begun.
She crawls onto my lap, places a quick kiss on my lips and her arms around my shoulders "Done." She smiles and kisses me deeply again my hands drift up her waist to her ribs and I push her off me.
"No, Doctor… Not done." Her face falls (much better) and I smile.
Harley
I roll my eyes at him when he calls me 'Doctor' but I don't bother to argue, "Not done." I echo back at him "I did what you asked! How can I not be done?"
Mr. J laughs and gestures at me to bring my bag as he makes his way out the door, I glance over at Frost who stands behind the bar chugging his beer; as usual his face gives nothing away. I grab my backpack and hurry after Mr. J.
"I did what you asked! You asked me to prove it and I did." I shake the backpack at him as we walk down a darkened stairwell.
Even as I say it, I am aware that his sending me on an errand was more than just a need for 'proof' of my affection. It was a test, like the first time he sent me to The Circus with his jester card-key. Let's face it, he is Joker; he is a high-functioning, well-connected criminal who most definitely doesn't need me to get him the drugs he asked me for. He probably has a stash of them in his basement; he's probably taking me to it right now so he can mock me for being such an idiot.
Despite my thoughts I continue to follow him down the dark stairwell, when we finally reach the basement we move deeper into the darkness until he pushes open a door at the end of the hall. I step into the dank room and squint when he flips on the overly bright lights, it takes me a second before I'm able to actually see the what we've stepped into.
"Oh, my God…" I whisper as I take in the room; this is no drug storage room.
The room has no windows despite it's size and the walls are tiled with a sickly green stone. The floor raises the farther back in the room you go and on the hind wall is a long hose and showerhead. Beneath my feet is drain and hanging on either wall to my sides are instruments of pain, some on the racks hanging off the walls and others on tables right beneath the racks. This is a torture chamber. I glance at Mr. J and his eyes are empty, his smile devious "You love me don't you?" his voice is mocking.
I swallow thickly and I bring one of my hands up to my neck unconsciously "You are manipulating me." I whisper and he giggles in response, he doesn't even attempt to deny it.
My mind wanders to his twisted sense of humor, his genius and his danger. It's who he is; it's what he does and if I want to have him I will need to accept all of him. "Yes! I already told you yes."
His smile drops, the evil glimmer fades out of his eyes and all of a sudden he doesn't look so amused anymore. If anything he looks worried. Very worried and frustrated when he does his tell head and shoulder stretch. My declaration of love really has thrown him well out of his comfort zone and my poor puddin' isn't dealing with it very well. I move towards him to give him a comforting kiss but he waves me away.
"Good, close the door." He sounds agitated so to keep the peace I do what I'm told and when I turn around he is straddling the commissioner.
"Wakey Wakey." He slaps the commissioner across the face a few times and the man groans.
I walk behind Mr. J and brush my hands across his shoulders as I move to stand out of the commissioner's view. My palms start sweating when Mr. J pulls a switchblade out of his jacket and I shove my hands into my pants pocket to hide their trembling.
I know that I'm about to witness something that I will never forget and I don't mean that in a nice wholesome not 'my boyfriend is kinky in bed' way. I take a few calming breaths to ease the racing of my heart and as much as I want to I don't look away from the scene in front of me.
This is part of the test, he's doing this to prove a point and if I look away, if I show fear or discomfort or any sign of weakness it means he's won. I'm not looking away. I won't ever look away.
Jutting his knife into the commissioners shoulder Mr. J grins at him "Are you ready to sing for me pretty bird?"
- 19
- 20
- 21
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Building up or breaking down of Harleen Quinzel