"No Puddin', it wasn't a fridge. I fell down da rabbit hole." She said, still standing there no longer pulling, pushing or smoothing the dress. Nope, now she stood there in all her Lewis Caroll glory.
There was a sort of muttered sort of responses as he heard her comment. Wondering absently what she was blabbing about, he'd go to close the paper, folds coming together and giving an absent look towards Harley as she stood in the door. Snapping the paper reopen he'd go to looking at the smaller print articles out of idle boredom. Someone died? Someone died again. He'd seem to hover of those obituaries morbidly looking at those recent photos of the now thoroughly dead lifeless sacks. Ah, misery of others. You could vaguely hear him reading outloud about a Rhoda Milton whom had died tragically in a pile up. And then it hit him. His mind playing back the last couple of seconds, face contorting absently as brows stitched themselves up into a light hearted look of confusion. He'd dare to peak over the paper at her again. Yes. Blue dress with heels and white stockings. Trying to place her to the right idle fantasy setting, he'd calmly fold the paper up in on itself and stare at her. His voice was dead calm now as he spoke to her, a command in his voice. "Harley. Come here."
Harley herself might have been getting a kick out of this little game the two seemed to play when it came to her knew outfits. Normally the skimpy outfights went unnoticed. She'd dressed in short skirts and tight tops for him, she'd get a small reaction out of him, but then their where the winners like her red and black bodysuit, which she did intend on stealing back once the pair finally figured out a way to get out Arkham. You could see her lips moving, silently counting the seconds since the first time he saw her. He saw her with those cute little knee highs and pretty bow in her hair. Jervis might have even ran a brush through her hair, god she hoped it was a brush. "Eight." She whispered quietly to herself, as she started to walk towards him, her backs knees hitting the edge of the cot as she dropped down with a tired kind of bounce. Sitting there hands on her lap she'd wait, watching him, those pretty baby blue eyes of hers focusing in on him waiting for his next order.
And now that she was closer, he'd get to inspect her. Not that he was eying her when she came over to him, able to see all the details on the dress somewhat as well as just how painfully short what she was wearing was. Even the bow was noticed, and as his Harley plopped next to him he'd finally indulge her with a thick smile. Face crinkling up as he did so, the great thing about all that paint he got to wear was the fact that no one knew if his were genuine or not. Going to clasp the hem of the easter blue skirt, he'd feel the frilly white edges looking down at it and then to her. That's when he was moving up to snatch at a hunk of that blonde hair and yank her across over to him in a sudden amount of fury. He didn't know what was up but he was already getting different ideas in his head. Of course, none of them where in any way pleasant for Harley. This wasn't some flirty rough I'm going to ravish you grab, it became clear he was agitated she went out in this. Funny when you considered the other things she was seen in. But now it became apparent why unlike most other men he wasn't tickled pink to see Harley currently. "Thinking of jumping ship are you, you INGRATE!? After all the time I put into you, going to run off with the Hat Freak!? Gimmie a reason right now why I shouldn't rip your collar off, you ditz!!!" He didn't like blue on her. He didn't like whatever had happened instantly. Naturally he blamed Harley for all of it. Who needed facts. Harley, and he had a sneaking suspicious some geriatrics's hand in this game too.
She of course looked perfect as Alice, Jervis had seen to that, and he'd taken great care in making sure she was perfect. So it could have easily pasted that Harley had dressed herself to looking like she should she the Mad Hatter's new Hench Wench. She should have savored that grin and she didn't, because she knew something was different about him. He was going cold, or that's what it seemed to Harley. She screamed when he grabbed her hair, and even let out a pathetic little whimper, that face scribbled and written with confusion as her big blue eyes filled with tears. Why would he do this to her? Her body found itself pushed and pulled against his, and even if he was hurting her, she didn't try to get away. She tried to apologize before he was even speaking, "Because I didn't do anything!" She cried out in a full blown sob, she wasn't lying and she just hoped he knew it. "I'd never leave ya, I'd never jump ship. I woke up dressed in this! Joker, I swear it's not my fault. Jervis had me in the basement. He was gonna..." She stopped, feeling herself get ashamed and embarrassed all at the same time.
"The basement? I see he wants to make a move on what's mine does he? We'll see how he likes it." He only half heard her now, still keeping his hands locked on her head in anger. Talking of Harley as if she was a commodity, goods to be stockpiled, was the normal for him. A rage swelled inside of him. You didn't take what was his, regardless of how tempting it was. Joker ignored the fact he himself had stolen Harley from the normal world, kept her to himself, and jealously guarded his property. The psycopath would see those eyes quickly swell with tears, big fat ones that would make him shudder briefly while keeping her locked. The last bit struck a chord with him as he could only hear the brief background noise of her uncontrolled hysteria. Jervis had never even been considered a threat to him now, but at the mere thought of fraternizing with his clown, his warped mind already began plotting. Cutting him up would be too typical. He needed something personal. He immediately knew what he had to do. Of course he couldn't do that now what with the state Harley was in. The dress, the look, it overwhelmed now. Letting her go, more pushing her head away, he'd scold the ground silently before looking at her again with a appearance of someone seeing something unsightly. He'd wave his hand at her now, trying to gesture her away. His words hissed angrily, before he spoke another of those strong commands. "Get out of that. Now. I can't stand it. NOW." And his temper held true, as she dawdled abit too long for his taste. His hands advanced towards hers, clasping the hem of the dress unsure of it's removal. Instead he did the only thing he could think to do that got things off. He'd rip. He'd tear. He'd eventually just haul the thing up and off her before ripping it into a wad of blue and launch it away. He didn't care so much of the stockings or that mangled bow. It was the blue. It wasn't red. It wasn't black. His mind was always given to Harley being Black and Red thanks to her constant diligences on wardrobe. Now that she was *fixed* he'd climb back into the cot with his legs pushing up and staring at the wall brooding. Seething. Harley wasn't Alice in Wonderland. She was The Queen of Hearts.
a/n; what happened (without revealing too much) was Mad Hatter kidnapped her her, dressed her up as Alice (think adult Halloween costume Alice). Blah blah, she came back to their cell dressed like Alice in Wonderland.
As far as Joker is concerned in his deck she is the queen of hearts.