I turn over, uncurl my legs a little bit, and rub my eyes. I realize that must have wiped my makeup in them because now they're stinging. Terrific.

I very carefully slip out from under Mister J.'s arm - he's taking up the whole bed almost, but I don't mind. My puddin' works hard, so he deserves to be comfy. As I sit on the edge of the bed I let my feet dangle over the edge. I can't help watching him for a few minutes. He smiles even while he's sleeping, but this smile is different than his usual. Maybe if he didn't have the Bat on his tail 24/7 he could smile like that all the time. Puddin' mutters something and buries his face in the pillow. I wanna ruffle his hair or touch his cheek, but I hold back; sometimes he can be a little jumpy. I don't wanna end up with a gun in my face again...

I tiptoe across the room, barefoot. The temperature is pretty warm, even for my favorite little red nightie - a present from Mister J., of course. I slip into the bathroom and turn on the water to wash my face. The girl in the cracked, crooked mirror looks back at me skeptically, her blond pigtails tangled and askew. How sultry. I roll my eyes.

I get some cold water in my hands and splash my face - my makeup streams down in diluted black trails and my bangs stick to my forehead. I wipe them back with a sigh as I turn off the tap. I shake my head and the excess water sprinkles the sink and mirror.

Back in the bedroom Mr. J. is snoring softly, stretched out in his purple and green boxers. I can't really squeeze back into bed without disturbing him, so I slip out to my favorite spot - a little place on the roof where I can sit above the "Funhouse" sign and look out over the city or watch the stars.

The moon is a crescent, and there are no clouds - a perfect night to sit out here...and get eaten alive by mosquitoes. I slap my arm in annoyance and huffily lay down on my back. "All I wanted to do was look at the stars in peace you lousy bloodsucker." I grump.

"I trust you don't mean me."

I jump up to my feet, almost losing my balance as the deep, familiar voice catches me off guard. He's right next to me within a second, steadying me.

"Beat it creep! Or I'll call Mr. J.!" I yelp, opening my mouth to yell for my puddin' to come rescue me.

Batman claps his glove over my mouth, stifling me. "I'm not here to bother with the Joker tonight, Quinn."

"Urrr ot?" is my attempted shocked response.

He removes his hand, then takes a step away from me to look out at the sleeping city. "Nice view." he says evenly, then turns back to me. "Gotham's underworld has been suspiciously quiet lately. What's he up to, Harley?" Batman nods toward the window behind me.

I gulp. "Whatcha askin' me for, Bats?" I muse, drawing a circle on the roof with my big toe, trying to look my most innocent.

"Because you would know." he replies, sounding confident.

"Puh!" I snort, letting my huffiness get the better of me. "As if!" I sit down heavily. I'm in a bad mood now. Thanks a lot B-man. "I put so much effort into all these evil plots for him and does he even look at them? Do I get a 'thank you Harley'? No! He just thinks up something new and shuts me out. Just rub it in, why don't ya?" I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I'm so mad I don't even realize Batman is sitting next to me until he talks again.

"You don't have to put up with him Harley." Batman murmurs carefully.

I scoot away from him a few inches. "Yeah, says you!" I sniffle and blink, but my hurt and indignance is beating out the part of me that tells me not to say any more. "Besides, B-man who asked you anyways? We're not perfect, but I love Mr. J. and Mr. J. loves me. And that's enough. It's love. L-O-V-E!. You got that?" I glare at him.

He chuckles very annoyingly,"You're no clown, Quinn. You had it all until you fell for him. Face it Harley, you don't fit in here. This isn't where you're supposed to be."

For some reason what he says gets under my skin real bad. It just really sets me off. In my head I keep seeing that bed with Puddin' stretched out - no room for poor ol' Harley. And I can't help it, before I know it I just start crying, and heaving, and sobbing, and finally hiccupping. "Why - hic - isn't there -hic- room?" Can't he make a little space in his twisted little beautiful world for his Harley? Can't he just squeeze me in somewhere? I sniff, burying my face in my knees.

Old Batsy just sits there the whole time, waiting for me to stop. He doesn't pat my back or hold my hand or nothin' like that. He just sits. And even if I hate his stupid guts, it's nice to know he's there.

There's a noise from the window behind me, and the swoosh of a cape beside me. I turn around and there's Mr. J.

I gulp. Oh boy. I brace myself for the inevitable battle between Batman and Mr. J. But nothing happens. I peek one eye open.

"Harley? What on earth are you doing out there?"

I look to my left, where seconds before sat our greatest proclaimed enemy, but he's gone.

Puddin' leans further out of the window, following my eye line. "What?"

"N-nothin'." I stammer, scrambling to my feet. I know I'm blushing, I know I look guilty of something.

But I guess he's too sleepy to see it. He yawns and beckons me. "Come inside babydoll, you can watch the stars another night."

I pull together a little smile, hoping he can't see how puffy my eyes are in the pale light. "Y-yeah. Oh-okay Puddin'." He takes my hand and pulls me back inside.

As I'm curled up back in my Joker's arms I try to push out what the Bat said, but his words won't go away. But I'm sleepy, and maybe tonight I don't care. For now I've got my baby's arms around me and the stars above me. Maybe there's room for me here after all.