* J *

Part Twenty-Five: Chapter 183: Boundaries

Jason's POV

I knew she was my brother's wife, but I couldn't stop thinking about slowly rocking my hips between her perfect creamy thighs. As the Joker I could get any girl in this city to sleep with me, all I had to do was flash a sinister smile. But she was the only girl in the city that I actually wanted. I had wanted her since the first time I saw her. J had used her in one of his plans, one involving the stealing of several city records. J had sent her as a distraction to the security guy. However, there was a hitch in the plan. The security guy was gay. Right as Bruce and I arrived at the scene she was sifting through the files. She shot at us, causing us to duck. When we came up, she had vanished.

She had looked so fucking hot in her jester themed unitard. Her curves opened up carnal desires I'd never had before. I guess you could say that I had no sexuality until I met Harley Quinn. When most boys were jerking off to their father's porn, I was doing it to her police file. When I agreed to take over as the Joker, she was the selling point of the deal. Falling for the villain must have been one of my Wayne traits. There was just something so sexy about a bad girl.

Now I am pretty much the Joker. Which makes her pretty much my wife. I know, I know. The real Joker wasn't technically dead yet. Which means that any advances I could make toward her are in bad taste. I knew she wouldn't give me the time of day as long as J was alive. Well, J's condition declined every day. He won't be with us much longer. Insensitive of me? Yeah, probably so, but I just can't help myself. You have no idea how much I want Harley.

So fast forward to this very second and I'm sitting here with a very embarrassing situation between my legs while watching her move her body quite provocatively. I knew from Bruce's file on her that she had been a stripper when she was in college. God, what I wouldn't give for a private dance with her. Is it wrong that I want J to hurry up with the dying? Well I don't care, it's the truth. Once he's gone, she'll have no choice but to move on.

Every guy on the dance floor has turned to look or try to dance with her. I couldn't blame them, but I could kill them. Maybe it was jealously because they were out there with her and I'm stuck in here with a gimped up arms dealer. Naturally I wanted to be out there with her. Who wouldn't? But the Joker doesn't dance in clubs with his wife. Why? Because he's a fucking idiot. And mostly dead.

I'm so hard that it hurts in my guts. To say I have blue balls is an understatement. They're purple, and I can't rule out them going black inside of five more minutes of torture. Penguin is sitting here talking to me, and I haven't a clue what he's said. It doesn't matter anyway, it was irrelevant to my current predicament. How can he sit there and talk when something so hot was shaking her ass on his dance floor? Maybe he's gay for Nygma after all. I could give a fuck. I just want him to observe a moment of silence while I watch my 'wife' drive me crazy.

The Joker's entire reputation is founded on unpredictability, right? So why can't the Joker be unpredictable and go dance with his wife? Wasn't he supposed to adhere to shocking people? Would dancing not shock them? I mean come on, I'm the goddamn Joker and I can do whatever the hell I want. It's not as if I have to answer to anybody. I seriously doubt J is going to come out of his coma to scold me. That's it. I can't just sit here and take this shit. I jump up like a bolt of lighting.

"J?" Penguin jumps. I don't even acknowledge him as I burst out of the room. "J, where are you going?" He calls after me.

I march to the dance floor and start shoving people out of my way. Finally I come up behind Harley. I spin her around to face me. My hands go around her waist and tug her into me. Harley has a look of shock and surprise on her face. I could feel her trying to push herself out of my embrace. But I wasn't gonna let her do that.

"Mistah J, just what do ya think yer doin?" She asks me under her breath.

"A guys got a right to dance with his wife, don't he?" I ask. My eyes travel down to her cleavage taunting me from the tight little top she wore.