Desperate for allies, Harley hired Clayface to act as her bodyguard. With both Joker dead, Batman gone, and Red Hood on the loose, every step for her was a threat. Her old gang had lost faith, many plotting to harm her. Hoping since they worked together before, Clayface would be able to protect her from danger and serve loyally. Maybe even disguise himself as her late beloved for extra.

While he did agree to act as Harley's muscle, he was quickly reminded him why he had avoided working for her before. Her endless droning and nagging about her revenge plans and how much she missed Joker, along with her high pitched voice, drove Clayface insane with annoyance. Reaching his limit, he decided to terminate his contract, and his old boss. Disguising himself as Joker with her back turned, for a moment she believed it was actually him.

As she placed her hand on his chest, Clayface took his true form, engulfing and trapping her hand in his mass. She struggled in futile, tugging and punching him in attempts to free herself. He bellowed as her struggle fueled his erection, tightly grasping her head with two fingers.

His body rippled violently, the Joker’s face melting away into a warped mockery. She staggered back, but a tendril of clay shot forward, wrapping around the side of her head.

“W-what are you—?”

The clay pressed against her ear.

Cold. Wet. Heavy.

Then it began to seep inside.

At first it was just pressure — like water filling her head. She clawed at him, trying to dig her fingers into the shifting mass, but her hands passed through uselessly. The clay forced its way deeper, muffling her screams. Her screams had turned to silence as she let out a pathetic, soft pitched moan.

The alley distorted around her. Sounds became distant and warped, like she was underwater. Her balance failed. She dropped to her knees as the substance continued pouring into her ear canal, expanding inside her skull.

Pain bloomed behind her eyes.

Clayface held her steady, his voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere.

“You always talked too much.” He said.

The pressure built. Her vision flickered. Clay seeped from her ears, engulfing the sides of her head in the thick slime. Bubbles of clay popped as gas leaked from her cranium.

Her struggles weakened. Fingers trembled. Breathing turned shallow. Her head occasionally giving a sharp twitch and soft moan. Despite the circumstances, her body had yet to become fully limp, her body trying it's best to stay alive.

For once Clayface missed her voice, her screams and final means echoing in his ears with pleasure. Her body began to grow limp as the shapeshifter prepared to finish her off. With a final violent shudder, her body went still.

Her skull was filled rapidly as the pressure shooting it through Harley’s ears. Clay began to seep from her eyes and nose before his second load burst through as well. Her frantic struggling had stopped by the first load, her final gasp for life escaping as what was left of her brain stained with fluids.

Clayface let go.

For a moment, he remained towering above her — then the clay withdrew in slow, deliberate motions. Finally releasing her limp body from his grip, she fell before catching sharply on her still engulfed hand. He released his hold, her hand slipping free as her corpse flopped to the ground.

Cars passed at the end of the street, indifferent.

Clay and fluids began to pool around Harley as Clayface walked away.

Without another word, Clayface collapsed into a puddle and slipped toward the sewer grate, disappearing into the dark.