When Harley Quinn awoke, she was still tangled in Joker's arms.

The fight they had the night before rang in her head, but none of that mattered now. She gently kissed his cheek, waking him up, "Good morning, Puddin'," She said softly, watching his eyes open to her face. She snuggled deeper into his chest.

"Morning, Harley baby," He yawned in his morning voice. He was so cute.

"I'm sorry, Jay. I shouldn't have raised my voice so loud to you last night," She apologized.

"We're talking about this now, Harley?"

"Well... I just thought I should apologize so we can have a better day than yesterday."

"Alright, fine. I accept your apology."

"Aw, thank you Mistah J!" She hugged him closer. Aren't you going to apologize to me, too?

"Well, I guess we should go eat now."

"But... Jay, don't you want to just stay in bed a little longer?" She asked.

"Not really. I'm pretty darn hungry."

Harley sighed, "Fine. I'll go make us breakfast."

Joker, sensing Harley's contempt, figured that it was because she didn't want to make breakfast, "Well, if you're gonna be like that, I'll make it for us," He insisted.

"You will?" Her eyes narrowed. He nodded, even though he didn't really want to.

"Fine," She said, getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom. He walked downstairs, careful not to step on that one irritating creaky floorboard. He started making breakfast, eggs and avocado toast for him and Harley. After finishing breakfast, he called Harley down from upstairs. Her hair was no longer messy, but instead of being in its usual pigtails, her hair was loose and down her back. She was still in her black sweatpants and red oversized t-shirt.

"Thank you, Joker," She said, taking a seat at the table.

Okay, somethings definitely wrong, Joker figured, she rarely ever uses my name.

They ate in silence, but Joker couldn't cut the tension between them even if he used a chainsaw.

"The toast is a little burnt," Joker noticed.

"That's it? That's all you're gonna say? The toast is a little burnt?" She mimicked.

"Uh..." Joker leaned back at her shouts, "Yeah? What's the problem?"

"You don't know?" She asked quietly, "How could you not know?"

"What do you mean? How could I know what the hell you're talking about?" He glared.

Suddenly, she seemed defeated, "Forget it."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Fine." He fell back into his chair.

"Fine." And now Joker couldn't even cut the tension using a giant shredder machine. He stood up promptly, washing his dish off and putting it into the dishwasher. He started to walk upstairs.

"You're not even gonna ask me what's wrong?"

"For goodness sakes Harley, what's wrong?!"

"Nothing," She snapped.

Joker groaned and dragged his hands down his face.

"You're going to be the death of me, Quinn."

"I'm gonna be the death of you?" She glared, getting up from the table and pointing a finger at him.

"Watch your tone," He growled, his voice like gravel.

"No, you watch yours!" She shouted, poking him in the chest, "You act like I'm crazy, but I'm not! You're the crazy one, Jay!"

He raised his eyebrow, "Obviously. I thought you knew that by now."

"Ugh!" She ran a hand through her waves, "I can't believe you, right now!"

"You, can't believe me?" He laughed, "Ha! Good one, Harley."

"Good one? Good one?" She yelled, "Do you even see the sacrifices I made for you? I gave up everything for you, my career, my friends, my family, my old life! I gave it all up... For you!"

Her hands clenched at her sides, and she glared at him for a few moments. Finally, she released a long breath.

She closed her eyes, and quietly, she spoke, "Did you ever even care? Or am I just another one of your stupid jokes?"

For the first time in a long while, Joker was utterly speechless. Neither of them spoke. He stared into her blue eyes, and she stared right back. At that moment, Joker understood. It was like everything clicked all at once.

Harley Quinn was his equal. She was his partner, his friend, his confidant. His lover. She was not someone below him, someone he could order around, some adoring side hustle he sparkled in attention whenever she was particularly needy for it.

She was his.

And he was hers.

"Harley Quinn," He grabbed her by her shoulders, "You are more than just another one of my jokes. You are more than the girl who laughs at the punchline. I am in love with you, and it's sentimental and cheesy and weird, but it's true."

"You... You are, Puddin'?"

Yes. His nicknames are back.

"I'll never make you feel below me again. You are my equal. You are not under me. You're beside me."

Her expression melted, "That's all I've wanted to be, Mistah J. Someone to you."

He cupped her face with his hands, "You're more than just someone to me. You're everything to me."

Then he kissed her. And somehow, it was different than all the times he kissed her before. It was better, sweeter. Harley Quinn was his. And he would never let her go.