If Only, in another life; maybe we could've been together

This is spin-off to: The Harley and The Ivy, The Harlequin and the Bat and The Scars Left Behind.

Important notes: I do not own Batman or any portion of the franchise. I give all credit to DC Comics and respective owners. Except the characters I wrote in my profile.

Chapter 1

(Harley's POV)

Date: Monday. Time: seven forty five AM. A blonde haired and blue eyed woman walks down a corridor; she is wearing a plain white laboratory coat over her red shirt, red skirt and her blue tie. She acknowledges her secretary "Morning Hillary. Punctual as ever I see." She gives a smile to make her feel welcome.

"Good morning Doctor, did you have a pleasant evening?" Hillary asked her superior.

The doctor sighed "Unfortunately no. He was a: narcissistic, mothers boy; he had too much time and not enough real practice with real women. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find a decent man in this city." She listed off the problems of her latest date.

"Well, I have some news: your four appointments have called in sick and you have a call: from Pamela Isley." Hillary listed off the clients and her close friends.

"Thank you Hillary; I guess it's going to be a slow day today." The doctor thanked her secretary as she went into her office and above the frame was the name: Dr Harleen Quinzel MD. Hours passed and lunch came, Doctor Quinzel had her lunch opened and half eaten until there was a knock at the door. "Come in." Harley called out as she gulped down her sandwich bite.

In came a beautiful red haired woman, her skin was fair and clad in a white shirt with the logo: "Pamela Isley's Beauties" and green trousers. "Hey Harl; what's happening?" she asked with a smile

"Nothing much Red…*sigh* I sometimes wonder if I'm in the wrong profession." Harley acknowledged her friend as she looked at her picture when she won the gymnastics finals.

"Now don't beat yourself up Harl; just because your brain never turns off and categorises people almost instantaneously, it doesn't mean you can't kick back and have some fun." Pamela smiled

"That's easy for you to say; all you have to do is walk down the street and men literally throw themselves to the floor to stop your shoes getting dirty." Harley began comparing herself to her friend.

"Harley…Look: I've gotten this invitation to this fancy masquerade gala tonight. I can bring one person; I want you to be my plus one. Come on it'll be fun." Pamela reached into her pocket and pulled out an invitation.

Harley examined the invitation and scoffed "Bruce Wayne? That Playboy? He's gone through more girls than that man I agreed to go on that date last night!" Harley expressed the term girls, because they were so young and idiotic. She couldn't really see herself going to such a momentous gala with this sort of man hosting it.

"That's why we've got to get you ready! Besides Bill will be there; he's the reason the gala is happening." Pamela explained

"Really, why? It's not because of the armour he's made is it?" Harley asked.

"Of course; that and he's going on his own. You know how awkward he is around people like this." Pamela explained

"Rich people? Isn't he one himself now?" Harley questioned it.

"Well, yeah. But he's not acting like a complete tool." Pamela rebutted "So are you coming or not? You might find some rich people for your book…might even meet a guy?" Pamela said nudging Harley gently in the side.

Sighing "Fine, I'll go. It can't be that bad…" Harley smiled

"Great! First we're going shopping!" Pamela yelled in glee

"Why? I've already got clothes." Harley wondered

"Harleen Frances Quinzel, your dresses all scream: stuffy, boring and "I'm the reason funerals are depressing"…" Pamela snapped at her friend at her fashion styles.

"Hey!" Harley annoyingly yelled

"Tonight, you're going out as the real Harley Quinzel!" Pamela pointed her finger at Harley causing her to gulp in fear.

*four thirty PM, Harley's Apartment*

"I still can't believe that you're still living here Harl; don't you have like beach front property with all the money your making?" Pamela smiled in disbelief carrying several bags

"No…*groan* there's not much point when the prices are run by blood sucking crooks." Harley groaned carrying up the other bags.

"Right…let's make some magic! We've only got two and a half hours to turn: this…" Pamela started as she dropped the bags on the living room floor, she pulled out an Ms Gotham Magazine and turned to Paige Munroe "into: this."

"Oh god…" Harley feared for her looks.

*Time skip, six forty five PM*

A pink convertible arrived at the gala party fifteen minutes early, the denizens exited the car: on the passenger's side was Harley; dressed in a beautiful silver dress, it sparkled like diamonds due to the sequins, she wore slight high heeled shoes and carried a non-sequined silver purse. Taking a breath she waited for her friend as she got out of the driver's side. Pamela was dressed in floral designed Pamela green full body dress with green stilettos and a green purse. "Harl, the night is ours." She smiled as she handed the keys to the valet. Both the ladies wore Venetian masks; Harley's was: red and blue with black diamonds. Pamela's was pure green with a red flower down the left hand side. "Now remember: be the mask, not the psychiatrist."

"That's very comforting Red." Harley said sarcastically "Where will Bill be?" she asked about her other friend

"He gave me a text saying: I'll be wearing a grey helmet, couldn't find any other masks that look unique. Can't miss me, I'm the only one who isn't dressed like a peacock." Pamela explained as they reached the doors.

"Please, Bill must've been exaggerating. No-one dresses like…a…oh…" Harley disbelieved her friend's text, but one look as the doors opened to see a menagerie of brightly coloured, feathered and sequined mask wearing billionaires Harley soon changed her tune. "My god, these people have such an egotistical, narcissistic problem…" Harley spoke in awe as her psychologist side kicked in.

"Harley…" Pamela said with a warm sternness

"Okay, okay. But I'm taking mental notes." Harley tapped her head.

"Okay I can compromise, now…where's Bill?" Pamela smiled under the mask.

(Pamela's POV)

*time flew by to ten thirty three*

Harley and Pamela sat down in exhaustion; neither had been more bored to death ever! They decided to stay on the side-lines and partake of the buffet; that is until a grey helmeted suit wearing man approached them. "So, I take it you're not here for the company." A familiar voice asked behind the helmet.

"You are impossible to find." Pamela groaned while taking her mask off.

The man removed his exposing a damp, dark haired and dark eyed, youthful man with a nice grin. "And so are you, I hate gatherings like this." He held the helmet in his left hand then hugged Pamela "*happy groan* it's good to see you again, you look great." He smiled as he saw his friend

"It's good seeing you again too Bill. How's Wayne Enterprises working for you?" Pamela smiled

"Up and up, long boring meetings, technical jargons…stuff you wouldn't want to hear. You said Harley's here? Where is she?" Bill explained briefly and asked where their third musketeer was.

"She's back at the side-lines. So tell me about B Wayne…" Pamela pointed to the wall and tried to get some gossip on Gotham's Playboy.

(Harley's POV)

Sighing Harley continued to make mental notes on the people she thought she recognised…but got nowhere. Everyone at the party to her was just one sociopath after another…well except Pamela and Bill, she'd known them forever. She was almost tempted to partake of the champagne, but she wasn't much of a drinker, so she put the champagne flute down. "Dull party, am I right?" a confident sounding man wearing a full face white mask face asked sitting next to her holding a champagne flute of his own.

"You don't know the half of it. And just think: I could've been asleep in my bed, but no…I was invited to this shindig." Harley sighed in boredom to the stranger

"Sounds like you lead a solitary life." He analysed

"Yeah, but in my profession: it usually is." Harley sank into her chair "I'm Har…" Harley began to say her full name and profession, until Pamela's voice came back "Ley. My name's Harley." She smiled

"I'm B. You know I couldn't stand these parties myself, but I'm forced to attend them." B started

"Really; a person like you, bored of festive galas? You sound just like my friend." Harley started and referenced Bill.

"Yeah, I know a guy who once told me when he was working: "Half the rich people in Gotham have skeletons in their closet. And the other half has keys to the house." He's got a very cynical view on philanthropists." B laughed

Harley began laughing; she didn't force it, she didn't intend it. But she laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like my friend."

"You've got a very beautiful laugh Harley." B said with a smile

"Well, that's *ahem* nice of you to say." Harley composed herself as she became more defensive.

"Here; it looks like you could use a drink." B offered her his champagne flute

"Oh thank you, but I'm not much of a drinker." Harley politely declined

"Well lucky for the both of us that it's: ginger ale." B smiled

"You're kidding." Harley couldn't believe it; even after all her years as a psychologist she didn't imagine the champagne was ginger ale. "You're not saying that to get me drunk for personal satisfaction are you?" she was quickly analysing the situation seeing to catch him out; she was good at that sort of thing.

B's smile turned into a frown and he explained himself "No; I'd never do that. Some of the people here would, but not me. I'm no monster."

Harley was taken back, but pleased. She'd found one of the few good people in Gotham. She took the glass and knocked the fake champagne down in one "I'm sorry; I was rude. I'm not very good at shutting off my brain."

"I can understand that." B nodded in agreement. He stood up and offered his hand "Care to dance?" he smiled

Harley placed hers over his and stood up to hear a gentle waltzing music. "Careful, I happen to have on good authority that I tread on people's feet." She forewarned him.

"And who told you that?" B laughed as he twirled her gracefully in his arms

"Joey Benson, High school prom. Although in fairness he did have size fifteen feet." Harley explained then laughed as she spun into B's arms.

"Kind of hard to miss then." B laughed with her.

"It was either him or me." She laughed again as the lights dimmed

(Pamela's POV)

Sighing with content Pamela looked at Bill with his trimmed back dark hair and tired look "So, do you think it worked?" Pamela asked Bill who was worn out

"I don't know…why don't you ask?" Bill pointed to whom he assumed to be Harley and someone he assumed to know, as he gave a Cheshire grin

Pamela looked and gained a grin "Good girl Harley." She congratulated her friend then raised her right hand "Hi five!" she spoke; Bill reciprocated as their hands clapped together.

(Harley's POV)

As the lights dimmed, that symbolised the gala was about to close. People began to leave but Harley didn't want to leave this moment, she didn't need alcohol to enjoy herself, she needed someone to talk to. As the lights dimmed to darkness she whispered something "Can I lift your mask?"

"Only if I can lift yours." B answered

The two of them moved each other's masks so their mouths were exposed, it was still dark and the moonlight made it that more romantic. Their vision adjusted to the darkness but it was dark again as Harley closed her eyes and kissed the man she was dancing with and she liked it. She pulled down B's mask, and he with hers; the two stayed in that close dance until the lights faded back on. "Wow…" she whispered

"Yeah…so I guess this is goodbye." B spoke with some sadness

"No…why? I mean…why should it?" Harley asked

"Everyone's gone and we're the only ones left." B showed the vacancy of the room.

"Oh yeah…hey, erm…" Harley stumbled over her words "Do you want to…do this again?" she asked

"Dance with you again? Sure, but be careful, I have a tendency to kiss beautiful blonde's." B joked

Harley laughed as she got one of her profession cards and wrote her personal number on the front. "Joke's on you, I'm not a real blonde. Call me." She smiled as she walked to her friend Ivy.

"I will." B smiled watching her walk away.

"So…how'd it go?" Pamela asked

"I've got to do these galas more often." Harley smiled.

"Did you get his number?" Pamela asked

This caused Harley to stop in her tracks "Oh…Stupid, stupid, stupid! I forgot!" she hit herself on the forehead.

"Here; I'm pretty sure, I didn't give you my number." B stood behind her as she turned around he handed a piece of paper to her. "And by the way…" B began then kissed her forehead "You are far from stupid."

To be continued

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