Harley Quinn: Falling For Joker

Part 6

I walked into the warehouse, scared but doing my best to hide it. Ivy said I could find weapons here. Maybe I would pick some up for myself. Boxes lay stacked in piles, a thin layer of dust covering everything.

I picked up one box, opening it up. Inside lay purple suit jackets. Oh! He would look cute in these. I pulled one out of the box, holding it up. I draped myself in it. It was warm and soft on the inside, just like my puddin.

I walked around, opening boxes along the way. grenades here, throwing knives there, but not a gun in sight. I cracked open one particular small box. It looked older then the rest. Inside lay a few objects. They didn't seem like things Joker would own.  A picture frame laid in the box, too. I pulled it out. The picture showed a man with brown hair standing next to a women with blond hair. She seemed to be holding her stomach. Maybe she was pregnant. And they both looked happy.

Now, I don't know who my sweet clown prince of crime was before, no one does, but I'm pretty sure this had something to do with it.

"Hey, cupcake, what do you think your doing?" Someone said. I jumped. Talk about scaring the shit out of someone.

A black man with jeans and a white tank top walked out of the shadows. He carried a hand gun, and he had tattoos all up and down his arms. Like spider webs.

"The boss won't like this. Too bad he's locked away right now." The man said, holding the gun to my forehead.

"M-my names Harleen Quinnzel. But Joker calls me Harley Quinn. H-he sent me to pick up a-a machine gun. He wants to bust out of the asylum." I said, trying my best not to stammer.

The man smiled, lowering the gun. "So, your the new physiatrist that the boss has been talking bout. He's been sneaking out, running over here, getting you gifts in the night and dropping them off at your office. He's only sticking around Arkham for you. My names Spider. I'm his third in command. Second is Frost, but you'll meet him soon."

"Now," I said. "About that machine gun..."

Spider nodded, rushing off behind the boxes. He re-appeared a few minutes later with a machine gun in hand. He gave it to me, and started to walk away. "Oh, and don't forget, your in to deep now to go back alive."

"Wouldn't dream of leaving for the world!" I shouted. I couldn't see, but I'm pretty sure he smiled. I think I found a friend. Or did the world of crime have room for trust?