Fic: With His Girl At His Side | DCU | Jason Todd/Harley Quinn | Hard R | 1/1
Title: With His Girl At His Side
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Jason Todd/Harley Quinn
Rating: Hard R (for blood and murder, Jason's mouth, and a little sex)
Word Count: 1,299
Prompt: For dcu_freeforall: Insanity; For the 2012 DCU Free For All Autumn Challenge: Nightmare, Blood; For this prompt at comment_fic
Summary: The face Jason sees in the mirror isn't his own.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: This follows Something to Laugh About and The Clown's Girl. Yep, I've returned to the Jason/Harley-verse. Warning for heavy-duty craziness.
With His Girl At His Side
“You’re gonna poke my eyes out, dammit.”
Harley pouted at Jason, drawing back from her careful work. “I been doin’ makeup for ages, Red. You don’t trust me?”
A scowl, and Jay leaned back in, propping himself up with his hands squeezing his knees to keep still. “Fine, but if I wind up wearing an eye-patch, you’ll be the late Harley Quinn.”
“Pfft,” Harley scoffed as she got back to work, her fingers moving quickly, drawing the pencil carefully around Jay’s eyes. “You know death threats will get you nowhere with me, Punkin’.”
Jay only set his jaw, waiting, and after a long moment, Harley sat back again, appraising him.
“There. You’re beyooteeful! Look, look,” she urged him, grinning.
Reluctantly, Jay turned to look in the mirror.
The face that stared back at him was white as a ghost, with red lips-scarlet reaching halfway back to his ears, the line jagged and curved upward in a maniacal grin-smudged black surrounding his eyes, and unkempt, greasy green hair topping it off.
It was fucking perfect.
Throwing his head back, Jason cackled.
~*~*~
Wind swept through Jay’s hair as he turned his bike onto Fifth, the avenue that led straight into the heart of the warehouse district, and his and Harley’s cozy little hideaway. Fuck, what a fantastic night it’d been, all the fucking punks cowering when he and his girl had cornered them, taken them down with whatever it took, a punch or a squirt of acid or a pipe to the face.
He couldn’t help grinning, knowing just what kinda nightmare he must look like, and remembering the way that half their targets had fucking peed in their pants when they’d seen him. And all with his girl at his side, his Clowny Princess, his right fucking hand.
Fuck, what would he have ever done without her?
“You’re lit up like a Christmas Tree, Red,” Harley said behind him, her arms holding tightly to his waist.
Jay gave her a glance over his shoulder, still grinning. “Had an awesome fucking night.”
Harley giggled, her blonde pigtails bouncing. “It’s about to get even better,” she teased.
“Oh yeah?”
“Definitely,” she purred in his ear, one hand sliding from his waist, down, and finally into his pants, where she grabbed him through his jock, squeezing.
Jay was fucking hard in a second, barely keeping control of the bike. “Gonna be that kinda night, huh?” he laughed low.
“Oh yeah,” Harley answered, squeezing him again. “And I got a surprise for you, too.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, throwing her another glance.
“I got you the kid. Take a left on Stonebridge, he’s at the old steel mill.”
Sudden glee filling, him, Jay laughed, his grin wide, and he laid on the throttle.
~*~*~
The crack and crunch that followed the strike of the crowbar was music to Jay’s ears. Blood splattered, spraying him in the face, painting the walls, his purple jacket and gloves, everything. Gorgeous ruby droplets. Life and death.
Giggling, he brought the weapon down again, breaking the kid’s knees. Another crunch. This time, a scream, the little brat’s throat raw with it. Fucking hilarious.
Another strike, and the kid started to cry. Baby.
“Aren’t we having so much fun, Baby Birdie?” Jay said gleefully, his head swimming with euphoria. Fuck, he was fucking high, he felt so damn good. “Best damn day I’ve had in years.”
A growl came from the kid’s throat then, his pink lips curled up menacingly. “Fuck you!” And the kid had the audacity to spit at him.
Beautiful rage bloomed in Jason’s chest, and he brought the crowbar down one final time, cleaving the little shit’s head in two, right down to the brain stem.
“No, fuck you, you fucking brat,” he ground out, spitting back at what was left of the kid. “Nothing but a fucking disappointment. Daddy won’t even fucking miss you.”
Throwing down the crowbar at last, Jason turned on his heel and strode out of the warehouse, casually pressing the red button he’d had hidden up his sleeve.
A roar and a blast of heat behind him, and the brat was no more.
~*~*~
Jay’s throat was fucking raw. How long had he been screaming? Where the fuck was he? In the semi-darkness, he had no fucking clue, only the vision of a dead Robin filling his mind’s eye and a cackle dancing in his brain, shutting out everything but his own screams.
“Red, wake up! Come on, you’re scarin’ me!”
A deep, shuddering breath, and Jay realized Harley was next to him, shaking him by the shoulder, her small hand gripping him tightly. The Clown’s bitch. Fuck.
Scrambling, he got the fuck away from her as fast as he could, shot across the room until he could grab the nearest knife and brandish it at her.
“I’m not him,” he shouted. “I’m not fucking him!”
Harley pouted and sat up on her knees in the bed, her pink nightie leaving little to the imagination and her blonde hair curling over her shoulders. “Jay Bird, you were dreaming. I know you’re not … not him.”
At that, a tear streaked down her face, and Jay saw that her eyes were shimmering, wet, her lower lip trembling.
“Please Red, it was just a nightmare,” she begged him, taking a shaky breath as it was clear she was starting to cry. “Put the knife down, Punkin’. Please….”
A long moment passed, the horrible things Jay had seen, had done, replaying like a slasher flick in his mind. He’d become the thing he hated most. He’d become the fucking Joker. He’d … he’d murdered himself.
But at last, his mind started to clear. He hadn’t murdered anyone. It was a fucking nightmare. It wasn’t real.
Fuck.
Shivering uncontrollably, Jay dropped the knife, stared at the glinting blade as it lay on the floor. Jesus fuck … he’d come up so hard from this one that he’d almost fucking killed Harley.
“Red?”
Slowly looking up, Jason caught Harley’s gaze. She was fucking terrified.
“Shit … ” he started, his voice trembling. “I. Fuck. I-”
Harley sniffled, ran the back of her hand over her cheek to wipe away errant tears. “I know. I’m sorry, too. Come back to bed?”
Everything starting to feel numb, Jay nodded, and carefully, he made his way back to their shared bed in his crappy little apartment. The same apartment where Harley had first come to him, slinking out of the shadows and completely broken. The same apartment where they’d hatched the plan to hit the streets as a new vigilante duo. The same apartment where she’d started sleeping not long after he’d fucked her in the alley behind the building.
He wasn’t insane. She wasn’t making him up to be the fucking Clown. He didn’t beat people’s heads in. And he wasn’t gonna start murdering Robins. The fact of her past had nothing to do with the here and now anymore. Harley wasn’t the same lunatic she used to be, and Jay was never gonna be the fucking Joker.
Sliding into the bed, he pulled the sheets over them again and settled down with Harley curled into his side, her warmth reassuring and her curves irresistible.
“You gonna be okay, Jay Bird?” she asked him, nuzzling against his neck.
Jay huffed out a laugh, running a hand over her hip and sliding up her nightie, finding her skin bare underneath. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. Just as long as you don’t ever try to put makeup on me, I’ll be fine.”
Harley giggled, rocking her hips into his touch. “Never gonna happen, Red, I promise. I like you better as you.”
A real smile tugging at his lips, Jay caught her chin and kissed her soundly.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Jason Todd/Harley Quinn
Rating: Hard R (for blood and murder, Jason's mouth, and a little sex)
Word Count: 1,299
Prompt: For dcu_freeforall: Insanity; For the 2012 DCU Free For All Autumn Challenge: Nightmare, Blood; For this prompt at comment_fic
Summary: The face Jason sees in the mirror isn't his own.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: This follows Something to Laugh About and The Clown's Girl. Yep, I've returned to the Jason/Harley-verse. Warning for heavy-duty craziness.
With His Girl At His Side
“You’re gonna poke my eyes out, dammit.”
Harley pouted at Jason, drawing back from her careful work. “I been doin’ makeup for ages, Red. You don’t trust me?”
A scowl, and Jay leaned back in, propping himself up with his hands squeezing his knees to keep still. “Fine, but if I wind up wearing an eye-patch, you’ll be the late Harley Quinn.”
“Pfft,” Harley scoffed as she got back to work, her fingers moving quickly, drawing the pencil carefully around Jay’s eyes. “You know death threats will get you nowhere with me, Punkin’.”
Jay only set his jaw, waiting, and after a long moment, Harley sat back again, appraising him.
“There. You’re beyooteeful! Look, look,” she urged him, grinning.
Reluctantly, Jay turned to look in the mirror.
The face that stared back at him was white as a ghost, with red lips-scarlet reaching halfway back to his ears, the line jagged and curved upward in a maniacal grin-smudged black surrounding his eyes, and unkempt, greasy green hair topping it off.
It was fucking perfect.
Throwing his head back, Jason cackled.
~*~*~
Wind swept through Jay’s hair as he turned his bike onto Fifth, the avenue that led straight into the heart of the warehouse district, and his and Harley’s cozy little hideaway. Fuck, what a fantastic night it’d been, all the fucking punks cowering when he and his girl had cornered them, taken them down with whatever it took, a punch or a squirt of acid or a pipe to the face.
He couldn’t help grinning, knowing just what kinda nightmare he must look like, and remembering the way that half their targets had fucking peed in their pants when they’d seen him. And all with his girl at his side, his Clowny Princess, his right fucking hand.
Fuck, what would he have ever done without her?
“You’re lit up like a Christmas Tree, Red,” Harley said behind him, her arms holding tightly to his waist.
Jay gave her a glance over his shoulder, still grinning. “Had an awesome fucking night.”
Harley giggled, her blonde pigtails bouncing. “It’s about to get even better,” she teased.
“Oh yeah?”
“Definitely,” she purred in his ear, one hand sliding from his waist, down, and finally into his pants, where she grabbed him through his jock, squeezing.
Jay was fucking hard in a second, barely keeping control of the bike. “Gonna be that kinda night, huh?” he laughed low.
“Oh yeah,” Harley answered, squeezing him again. “And I got a surprise for you, too.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, throwing her another glance.
“I got you the kid. Take a left on Stonebridge, he’s at the old steel mill.”
Sudden glee filling, him, Jay laughed, his grin wide, and he laid on the throttle.
~*~*~
The crack and crunch that followed the strike of the crowbar was music to Jay’s ears. Blood splattered, spraying him in the face, painting the walls, his purple jacket and gloves, everything. Gorgeous ruby droplets. Life and death.
Giggling, he brought the weapon down again, breaking the kid’s knees. Another crunch. This time, a scream, the little brat’s throat raw with it. Fucking hilarious.
Another strike, and the kid started to cry. Baby.
“Aren’t we having so much fun, Baby Birdie?” Jay said gleefully, his head swimming with euphoria. Fuck, he was fucking high, he felt so damn good. “Best damn day I’ve had in years.”
A growl came from the kid’s throat then, his pink lips curled up menacingly. “Fuck you!” And the kid had the audacity to spit at him.
Beautiful rage bloomed in Jason’s chest, and he brought the crowbar down one final time, cleaving the little shit’s head in two, right down to the brain stem.
“No, fuck you, you fucking brat,” he ground out, spitting back at what was left of the kid. “Nothing but a fucking disappointment. Daddy won’t even fucking miss you.”
Throwing down the crowbar at last, Jason turned on his heel and strode out of the warehouse, casually pressing the red button he’d had hidden up his sleeve.
A roar and a blast of heat behind him, and the brat was no more.
~*~*~
Jay’s throat was fucking raw. How long had he been screaming? Where the fuck was he? In the semi-darkness, he had no fucking clue, only the vision of a dead Robin filling his mind’s eye and a cackle dancing in his brain, shutting out everything but his own screams.
“Red, wake up! Come on, you’re scarin’ me!”
A deep, shuddering breath, and Jay realized Harley was next to him, shaking him by the shoulder, her small hand gripping him tightly. The Clown’s bitch. Fuck.
Scrambling, he got the fuck away from her as fast as he could, shot across the room until he could grab the nearest knife and brandish it at her.
“I’m not him,” he shouted. “I’m not fucking him!”
Harley pouted and sat up on her knees in the bed, her pink nightie leaving little to the imagination and her blonde hair curling over her shoulders. “Jay Bird, you were dreaming. I know you’re not … not him.”
At that, a tear streaked down her face, and Jay saw that her eyes were shimmering, wet, her lower lip trembling.
“Please Red, it was just a nightmare,” she begged him, taking a shaky breath as it was clear she was starting to cry. “Put the knife down, Punkin’. Please….”
A long moment passed, the horrible things Jay had seen, had done, replaying like a slasher flick in his mind. He’d become the thing he hated most. He’d become the fucking Joker. He’d … he’d murdered himself.
But at last, his mind started to clear. He hadn’t murdered anyone. It was a fucking nightmare. It wasn’t real.
Fuck.
Shivering uncontrollably, Jay dropped the knife, stared at the glinting blade as it lay on the floor. Jesus fuck … he’d come up so hard from this one that he’d almost fucking killed Harley.
“Red?”
Slowly looking up, Jason caught Harley’s gaze. She was fucking terrified.
“Shit … ” he started, his voice trembling. “I. Fuck. I-”
Harley sniffled, ran the back of her hand over her cheek to wipe away errant tears. “I know. I’m sorry, too. Come back to bed?”
Everything starting to feel numb, Jay nodded, and carefully, he made his way back to their shared bed in his crappy little apartment. The same apartment where Harley had first come to him, slinking out of the shadows and completely broken. The same apartment where they’d hatched the plan to hit the streets as a new vigilante duo. The same apartment where she’d started sleeping not long after he’d fucked her in the alley behind the building.
He wasn’t insane. She wasn’t making him up to be the fucking Clown. He didn’t beat people’s heads in. And he wasn’t gonna start murdering Robins. The fact of her past had nothing to do with the here and now anymore. Harley wasn’t the same lunatic she used to be, and Jay was never gonna be the fucking Joker.
Sliding into the bed, he pulled the sheets over them again and settled down with Harley curled into his side, her warmth reassuring and her curves irresistible.
“You gonna be okay, Jay Bird?” she asked him, nuzzling against his neck.
Jay huffed out a laugh, running a hand over her hip and sliding up her nightie, finding her skin bare underneath. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. Just as long as you don’t ever try to put makeup on me, I’ll be fine.”
Harley giggled, rocking her hips into his touch. “Never gonna happen, Red, I promise. I like you better as you.”
A real smile tugging at his lips, Jay caught her chin and kissed her soundly.
~*~*~*~