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Story Notes:
This might have three or four chapters. I dunno exactly. I'm winging it. It's kind of a more descriptive form of "Young Werner" (german impressionist story) type storytelling. Mostly it was inspired by other fics and how people like to make Joker thinking about Harley every time she's missing from his presence. That isn't how I see the relationship - that isn't how I read the Joker. She won't be promenant until the last chapter.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I've been thinking about the idea since I got snowed in Wednesday (writing Joker NOT fawning over Harls for once) and this morning thought up an opener. Hour and a half later I posted. I have this thing about waiting: I can't do it. Also, I was listening to that song "Fever" last night while exmass shopping. Hence the title and weather extreme theme.

I understand why people write them that way, it's the part they want to focus on. It makes the rest of the "world" sweet as bee-spit. On the other hand, I have a hard time relating to that and find it a bit distasteful after a while. Why is Harley so special, you know? EVERYONE ought to behave like that. Joker is, at least to himself, epitome of excellence. And, well, she has this high-pitched voice... There's more to it, of course, but this is the part I wanted to focus on.

It's just so hard to imagine him dependent on anyone. And don't read me wrong, I enjoy the stories. I just wanted something else.

(Story Completed 12/24/2006)
The temperature rose; Gotham suffered from a record setting heat-wave. Every day reports stacked up of deaths among young children and the elderly from heatstroke. The city was quiet. Even the real nasties stayed home to sit in basements and bathtubs with ice water to sip and too much lethargy to move. Businesses closed over the noon to 2 peak sunlight hours. Pubs and bars pulled in record profits. It was hot.

There was a room, the only livable space for a floor and a half, and it was hot. Four stories off the ground and three miles in from the harbor, surrounded by similarly derelict buildings on every side, the room was a veritable oven. Air stagnated and boiled away at the sweating residents as they stood silent in a far corner and tried not to watch.

A tall man with a dull knife squatted; knees at his ears, butt just and inch off the floor. He drew pictures with the knife and watched them flood over. The medium was simply too viscous; maybe it was the heat. Here he drew a bat. The lines he drew melted back into the puddle even as he drew. Batman wasn’t around. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he went on vacation. Who knows, who knows… there had been rumors floating about that chick with the dad- towlie or tail or tricia... talia or something. Kid from the guy what played chess. Real stoic fellow, took everything too serious if you ask him. Reminds him of Bats, really. They should get married and hang themselves. He laughed too loudly and tossed the knife aside.

It was hot. Even he noticed. Curious, he leaned closer to the body beside him. A lanky finger prodded the wan flesh, still more pink than his own, prefacing a more intimate pressing of his cheek to the body’s chest. The henchman was not as warm as he had been mere minutes ago, but the body was far from cold. Disappointed, the Joker sat back and wiped the sweat from where it had collected on his face. Being hot sucks. It makes everything uncomfortable. It makes your nuts stick to your leg. Where the hell was Harley, anyway? He couldn’t exactly remember the last time he couldn’t get her to shut up. It had been quiet for a long while around the room. Except for the guy in the puddle. That guy had been really annoying. He thought. Maybe. It was hard to remember; it was hot.

Joker stood up and tucked his colt into the back of his trousers. The sun would be setting soon and people would be emerging. It might be a nice time to go for a walk. His smile cracked wider at the thought. With the right audience he could really burn up the town.

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