Alright everyone, I've been having some writers block on In The Grey since I've been drawing Idea's for new OC's along with making a story that is based on one canon character. I've chosen Harley Quinn for this and the Arkham Series because of the beauty of it's story and how they really brought out some of the best out of the characters of the Batman series.

To sum it up, I hope this will get some of my ideas running as well as give some new OC's to work with.

Note: This Story will have the conflict of Harley Quinn wanting to go back to a normal life, Her conflicting relationship with the Joker and Batman, as well as the conflict of her normal self (Harleen Quinzel) and Her crazy self (Harley Quinn). The language that my OC's Allen Vorster and Johannes Goosen speak is Afrikaans and I use some Afrikanner slang as well.

With Love ~Dresner


Two Day's before the Take over of Arkham Asylum-

Harley Quinn sat in her cell awaiting for her meal before laying down for bed. Old Sharpie was pressing the prisoners hard today on trying to finish the tearing down one of the old buildings to improve the grounds of the Asylum for review by the mayor soon. She was tired and starving for something other than gruel. Luckily she managed to make friends with one of the new advisers for the Arkham guards, a five man team called '9th Company'.

A cheerful whistle followed by the calm verses of a Afrikaner folk song echoed peacefully through the cell block as a signal that her favorite Boer was coming to bring her something nicer than a plate of gruel.

'De la Rey, De la Rey. sal jy die Boere kom lei?' The South African Boer sang with a good hearten tone. 'De La Rey, De La Rey. Generaal, generaal. soos een man, sal ons om jou val. Generaal De La Rey."

Harley didn't understand a word the tall and dark headed Afrikaner was saying, but it sounded wonderful to her ears and it took her mind off of the Asylum. That and the sight of Dark Knight every once in a while. From her cell force field she could see a Average height Boer, White South African, with long Goatee style beard and black hair. He was a blue eyed like Bruce Wayne and wore a kind smile just like him, but instead of a presentation on Philanthropy and a brief case in hand. The twenty seven year old Allen 'Reggie' Vorster instead presented her with a plate of beef tips, rice, and white bread with a flask and a Saiga-12KS Shotgun on his back. Allen and Harley went to school together in Brooklyn, New York, when they were in their teens when Allen was in Foreign exchange. They became close friends in the year that he spent in the states, but after he left they lost contact after Harleen became Harley. He was like a brother to her and always gave her a some form of understanding, but he did not condone her actions or let himself forget that she was a criminal. But he couldn't forget that she too was human under the regressive behavior, the face paint, and the blood of the innocent still fresh on her hands even after the decontamination chamber and cold showers.

Her jumpsuit was dirty and her hair was filled with knots from a hard days work in the August sun. When the sun ever appeared over Gotham it always made sure to bring a heat wave or at least a few prisoners to the medical ward with heat stroke. Allen's skin was nearly Orange from all the time he spent outside in the South African sun and the Gotham heatwave only made him darker as well as burning the frames of his Costa Del Mar sunglasses into his face when ever he forgot to wear his slouch hat. The farmer's tan on his chest was curtsy of the combat vest/body armor and the OD green 'Wife beater' tank top under it. His Flecktarn woodland pants and combat boots were stained with mud from patrolling along side the guards this morning. He too was tired and looking to get some rest as much as she did. But Harley didn't mind the company since they moved Ivy to the extreme isolation chamber and Joker escaped three days ago. She need someone to talk to, to maybe call a friend once again.

"What are ya sing'en Reggie?" Harley asks in a tired and happy tone to her old friend as he let down the shield.

"De la Rey is the name of the song, It's a folk song about the Boer wars." He told her as he sat down with her on the floor and handed her the late of beef tips with rice and bread along with a flask of wine. "But enough of the past, here it's the best I could muster."

"It's better than gruel or the shit Ivy eats!" She said with glee as she ate her beef tips and rice with a child like smile. Allen only smiled and took sips of the flask until handing it to Harley. "Good stuff, nè?"

"Uhh, yeah!" Harley responded as she took a sip of the wine and gave a groan. "Bleh! What is this?!"

"Red wine from Orleans, from what the Frenchman told me." Allen told her with slight delight at her dramatic response as he referred to his combat medic, Jean-Baptiste 'Froggy' Astor. "Not bad for you or the heart. But a little weak for me. I would think you would be a wine drinker."

"To broke, but my puddin needs the money for our wedding once we knock off the bat." Harley said with a chuckle as she handed back the flask.

"Joker, eh?." Allen said in an uncomfortable tone. "And married? To him? Harleen I have to say you could do a little better than some clown-"

Harley slapped Allen across the face and threw the plate at him in a vexed rage, "DON'T TALK ABOUT MY JOKER LIKE THAT YOU CREEP! We're gunna get married and live happily ever after once we off da bat and blow this joint to pieces! Your just jealous since you ain't gotta a gal like me on yo arm!"

"That's enough Quinn." A low growl came from the open door where the Dark Knight stood next to a built man of about clean shaven thirty or thirty five with clean cut black hair. The was wearing a black turtle neck, Vektor R5 (South African Carbine copy of the Gaili) on his back, Bandoleer across his chest, Grey combat pants over a pair of Black combat boots, and a eye patch covering his left eye. This was Allen's commander, Johannes 'Johann' Goosen, another Afrikaner from South East Africa.

"Ag man, Are you befok?" Johann exclaimed as he waltzed into the cell and drug him out before Harley could smack him around more. "That cullis could have knocked you out and took that fancy shooter of yours to a disco. Remember, she's the crazy one not you. Got me?"

Johann was almost a brother to Allen and always made sure the young lad kept his head in any situation. The two stuck together a lot and no one blamed Allen for it since Johann was the most experienced member of the 9th Company along with Sean 'Magic' Disney, Sniper and twenty year veteran of the 9th Company, and Edward 'Khaki' Price, Support gunner and ten year veteran of the 9th company and the British SAS. Allen was a green horn, F.N.G, a new guy since he joined with Coldwater International, One of the worlds leading Private Military Contracting firms in the world, four months ago in May. Since then he has only seen light duty with the 9th Company in the form of training Arkham Guards in the art of riot suppression and tactical response, Nothing in the realm of swashbuckling and romance that the mercenary life would bring to mind.

"Ja-Nee." Allen replied in a monotone voice as he looked over to Harley with pity.

"Great, Now if you excuse us Batman. Me and China here are going to the chow hall with the rest of'em for grub. Care to join us? Sharpie is bring'en some roasted pig and a few dop too." Johann offered in a friendly tone. But Batman refused.

"Leave me with Quinn and I'll be on my way." The dark knight growled in his usually dark and melancholy tone.

Johann looked into the eyes of the bat and the bat into the eye of the Afrikaner. Both set of eyes had a story to tell, but weren't to keen on sharing it. Both told a struggle and both on a path that might lead to the very end of each others existence. But they held a mutual respect for one another as men, as all good men do, and they gave a nod to each other before Johann departed the intensive treatment center's cell block.

Batman narrowed his gaze toward the Harlequin as he closed in toward her. "Where is he Quinn?" He growls. His figure towered over her like a black cloud over her only source of light in the dark cell. Harley was scared, but she had faced the bat, and to an extent the Joker, multiple times over and she learned to hide her fear.

"Who Bats?" She says tacky tone like a child. "Two-face? Penguin? Bane? Fuck if I know where those bozo's are and like I-"

His arm swooped from the darkness with out warning and latched itself around Harley's neck with a vise like grip. The strong arms of the veteran crime fight had no trouble picking the athletic built girl that Harley was and neither did it play on his conscience as he slammed her against the wall.
"I don't have time for this Quinn." The Dark Knight said forcefully as he slammed her against the wall once more to get his point across. "Talk. Now."

"It's on the tip of my tongue!" She said defiantly with a smug grin as Batman's grip grew tighter. "Ya hold'en back bats? Mister J hits me hard and he loves me, and all you do is hold back and hate me? What's the deal?"

Harley didn't struggle in his hand, which some what surprised him, but instead of fighting back with her usual childish banter she actually said something that made him think. Why was he holding back on her?

"I don't like to rep-"

"Do you hate me bats?" Harley asked in a sly tone similar to the Joker mixed with the old Harleen he use to know. "Do you hate me just like you Hate my Joker? Or maybe you got the same twisted connection that my Joker has with you? What is it B-man? What makes you tick-toc and walk eh?"

A word was not uttered from the cowl neither an expression nor a scowl... A sign of weakness appeared in his blank expression and Harley smirked slightly until she was thrown across the room, smacking against the wall and landing on her bed. The bat stormed out of the cell without a word.

Harley chuckled to herself with delight at her victory, she knew she struck a cord with the big bad bat. But in truth, it was a risky victory. With the Joker she could predict his movements when she struck a cord, or a feeling, with the Joker and prepared herself for it physically. With Batman it was...

Strange... It was...

Different...

Batman always brought out the worst in her, but yet it also brought out her old self on some occasions.

She was more intelligent than people ever gave her credit for, a little bit sharper than met the eye, but not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Harleen didn't earn her 4.0 grade point average with just her looks and blue eyes her intelligence one her the day in school. That was before Harley came out of her mind with a smile and handful of thermite. Harley wasn't the most intelligent person in the world, nor was she the most stable or sane one. Harleen diagnosed herself with split personality disorder at some point during her internship for Hugo Strange in Blackgate five years ago during her first encounter with the Joker. At that time she found that their was almost two different people living with in her own body: A woman who wanted to make a life of her own away from the bleakness of her home of Brooklyn and the sickness of Gotham and then a girl who wanted to escape it all in some child like dream. She couldn't fight the girl inside of her because she was feed by the crushing loneliness she encountered in Blackgate.

Then she met the Joker and soon the woman faded away into the darkness of her confused mind. Then Harleen became Harley...

'Nothing is as cruel as a memory.' The voice of the Joker echoed in her mind. "The truth hurts..." She replied in her calm and mature voice of Harleen Quinzel.

"But Mista J will make it all better!" The bubbly and always playful side of her replied with a slight giggle as she rolled over into the fetal position on her bed. Laughing and crying herself to sleep as two sides of her battled one another for the first time in five years.