The transition from Harleen Quinzel to the Queen of Crime is a story of desire, surrender, and madness. ♦️ A new take on the birth of Harley Quinn and The Joker. ♣️ M for romance and violence reasons.
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Cover image: http://fayrenpickpocket.devi...
A weapons heist was not a particularly romantic option for a first date — but I'd never been so excited for a night out. Hair and makeup done to perfection, I knocked on Mister Jay's door.
"What's the plan, boss?" I said when he let me in. "Scale the walls? Blow open a window? Pick a lock?"
He passed me a pizza box. "Knock on the front door."
I blinked.
He pulled on his leather jacket. "At this time of night, there will still be a couple of employees working late. They let us in, we mow them down, and we go on our merry way."
The box was warm, and a mouth-watering pizza smell wafted at me.
"Did you just order this?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you use an empty box?"
"You gotta play the part, baby! Besides, now we have a snack if we get hungry."
He reached deep into his coat closet and pulled out a silver revolver. I sucked in a breath. Jay saw my expression, grinned, and slid the weapon inside his jacket without a word. I wondered if he knew where to go once we were inside ACE. I wondered if there was more to the plan than he was telling me. I wondered how many guns he planned to steal. I didn't ask any of this.
Jay slung his arm over my shoulder and we left. We strode down the dark streets, his arm wrapped firmly around me, the revolver bumping my ribs with each step.
We stopped beside the ACE Research Facility sign. A fence stretched into the darkness on either side, barbed wire coiled at the top. A stone path led to the front door.
Jay placed a hand under my chin. "I'll be right beside you, baby, just out of sight."
I nodded. He kissed my forehead, sending a flutter to my toes.
Pizza box resting on my palm, I stepped up to the door and knocked. Though my heart thrummed, I felt no more nervous than if we'd been pulling a prank.
A scruffy man in jeans and a faded black tee opened.
"Delivery!" I sang.
For effect, I jutted my hip like a sassy waitress at a fifties diner.
The guy stared at me, then said over his shoulder, "Frank, did you order—?"
I kicked him in the groin. He bent double and I slammed my elbow on his head. He sprawled flat, unconscious.
I picked up the fallen pizza box as Jay stepped up behind me.
"Oh, Harley. You know how to take a man's breath away."
He bent and took the guy's keycard.
"Hey!" someone shouted, who must have been this Frank guy.
Jay shot him.
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