In Another Life X

"I can't wait for your wedding, Harley! It'll be the happiest day of your life!"

The cheerful words of her friends rang in her ears as Dr. Harleen Quinzel rode the subway back to her apartment in Gotham City. It was rush hour, and the subway was packed – Harleen silently cursed herself for arranging her engagement party lunch to finish just in time for traffic, but she hadn't really thought about timing. She hadn't really thought about much of anything to do with the wedding. Her mother was being her usual, overbearing self in terms of wedding planning, so Harleen didn't really have much say in it, which she knew wasn't completely fair on her special day. But in all honesty, she thought, as she stared blankly at her shoes, she couldn't care less about the wedding. The only reason she was willing to go through with it was partially to appease her parents, and partially because she assured herself that her reluctance to go through with it was just wedding jitters. She was silly for being nervous.

She and her fiance, Ricky Sorkin, had been together ever since they were teenagers in high school, and Harleen's mother had finally put her foot down that now was the right time for them to tie the knot. Personally, Harleen wasn't sure she was ready for a commitment like that, at least, not with Ricky. He was a nice guy, and had been a loving, caring boyfriend through all their years together. But there was something…missing, she thought, some spark that she had always read about in romance novels, or seen in romantic comedies. Some special feeling that would make fireworks go off inside her at his every touch, and butterflies flit around her stomach at the sight of him. Some burning, obsessive need for the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with, some uncontrollable desire that made his presence like oxygen to her, which made her need it to live. But then, she supposed that that was probably just some fantasy sold by Hollywood. Real relationships weren't like that. At least, hers hadn't been.

Maybe that was what was bothering her. Maybe she regretted never feeling that for Ricky, and she wondered if it was Ricky's fault, or hers, for never having dated anyone else. For just settling for the first man who would have her, a safe, stable, nice guy, and being too apathetic or afraid to break out of the relationship and explore her own desires as a single woman. She had always been a shy, scared, timid person, and had basically gone straight from her parents's protection into Ricky's. She had never been out on her own, taking risks, doing dangerous things, finding out for herself what she wanted out of life. Her mother had always been a very domineering figure, and had insisted that she knew what was best for her only child. But Harleen wasn't so sure that her mother really knew what was best for her. Heck, she wasn't even sure that she did either.

But as she thought about the wedding in a few months time, all she could imagine was herself saying those words, those hollow, empty words about loving and cherishing forever, and not meaning a word of them. She imagined herself as the most miserable bride, but there was no reason to be miserable, she assured herself. She was a young, successful doctor, a psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, and a young lady on the verge of being married to a nice guy. Anyone else would be overjoyed at her situation. There was obviously something wrong with her. She should be smiling all the time, but her frown rarely left her face these days.

It had been agony forcing a smile all throughout the engagement party. And now Harleen was relieved that she could take her forty minute journey home on the subway alone with her thoughts, not having to pretend to be happy when in her mind, a black cloud hung over her future that could never be lifted.

She should tell Ricky the truth, she reasoned, that she was apprehensive about their wedding, and that she wasn't ready to get married. But it would break his heart. And besides, you couldn't very well continue in a relationship once you'd told a guy you didn't want to marry him. She would have to break things off, move out of their apartment together and find someplace else on her own. Start over, all on her own. She wasn't sure she had the courage for that. So she was a coward, and she was afraid her cowardice was going to bind her forever to a man she had no strong feelings for, and condemn herself to a life of unhappiness.

She sighed heavily. "You ok, kid?" asked a voice suddenly.

She looked up to see a man opposite her, holding onto the same railing and studying her carefully. He was an older man, tall and strangely handsome, with intense green eyes that looked at her in concern. "You feeling all right?" he asked. "I know these carriages can be pretty packed, and people have been known to faint…"

"Oh no, I wasn't gonna faint," said Harleen, smiling at him. "I'm not really that type."

"Good," he said. "You look a little ill, though. You staying hydrated? It's a hot day."

"I'm fine, thanks," she said, but then she realized that was pretty thirsty. Her thoughts had preoccupied her so much that she had forgotten about her body's basic needs. "Could probably use a drink when I get off, though," she said, licking her lips to try to wet them.

"How much longer have you got to go?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes now," she said, glancing at her watch. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Ok, if you're sure," he said, shrugging. He patted his breast pocket. "Got a hip flask here if you're desperate, but I don't think scotch will actually help hydrate you. Plus it's kinda illegal to drink it on the subway, but they'll never take me alive."

Harleen grinned. "Thanks for the offer, Mr…"

"Napier. Jack Napier," he said, holding out his hand to her. Harleen took it.

"Harleen Quinzel," she said. "Doctor Harleen Quinzel, actually, but call me Harley. Everyone does."

"Doctor?" he repeated, surprised. "Well then, you'd think you'd know the importance of hydration on a hot day."

"I do," replied Harleen, smiling. "I just…have kinda a lot on my mind, so I didn't think about it."

Jack chuckled. "Doctors!" he laughed. "They're so smart that they forget they're actually human beings with human needs! Glad I never went to college – wouldn't wanna forget my needs," he said, flashing her a grin as he reached for his flask and took a sip.

"I'm telling the cops when we get off," she said, grinning.

"Do it and I'll kill you for ratting me out," he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back at the joke. She realized that not only was she thirsty, but that her head had begun to ache fiercely, a low, dull throbbing that wasn't helped by the heat and the crowd.

I need to get outta here she thought. Get off at the next stop, get some air…

She nodded firmly to herself, and started toward the door, when the train suddenly lurched to a stop, sending her flying backward. She was caught by Jack, who steadied her gently on her feet. "Seriously, kid, you ok?" he repeated, concerned.

"Um…got kinda a headache," she murmured. "I'm just gonna get out here and get some water…"

"Here, I'll come with you," he said, shoving people out of the way as he helped her toward the door.

"That's kind, but…don't you have someplace to be?" she asked.

"It can wait," he said, helping her off the train and up the steps of the station. "I mean, I may be a pretty cruel guy, but not even the most heartless guy in the world can abandon a beautiful young lady when she ain't feeling her best."

"I don't think you're a cruel guy," she said, smiling at him as he helped her into a chair of an outdoor café across from the station.

"You don't know me very well," he replied, grinning. "Now, what can I getcha to drink?"

"Just a water, please," she said. "Thank you."

"Back in a sec," he said. "Take a couple deep breaths, and shout if you need me," he said, heading inside.

Harleen obeyed, drawing in large gulps of air and shutting her eyes as she leaned back to bask in the rare Gotham sun. The day was pleasantly warm once you got away from the packed heat of the subway trains, and the sounds of the traffic and the smells of the food vendors calmed her restless thoughts and feelings.

"Here you go, kid," said Jack, returning and placing a glass of ice water in front of her. "You drink that slowly, and you'll feel better in no time."

"I already do, thank you," she said, smiling at him. "I'm sorry to cause you such trouble. I feel a little silly now…"

"Hey, don't worry about it," he said, grinning. "Hardly an effort to serve a pretty girl. More of a pleasure really."

Harleen felt herself blushing. "You are quite the charmer, Mr. Napier," she said, sipping her water.

"Well, I try," he replied with a grin. "And call me Jack, Doc."

"Jack," she said, nodding. "I can't thank you enough for this. I was really feeling sick down there – not sure I would have made it out without fainting without your help…"

"Thought you weren't the fainting type," he said.

Harleen smiled. "Well, maybe I am," she murmured. "Maybe I don't know myself as well as I think. Maybe today's taught me that if nothing else."

He studied her. "You wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"No," she retorted, taking another sip from her drink. "I wanna forget about it, actually. I wanna forget everything about today, and my life, if I could…"

She trailed off. "I'm sorry, I won't…bother you with my problems. I'm the shrink, not you – you're not obliged to listen to me," she said with a grin.

"Shrink, huh?" he said, smiling at her. "So you can analyze people just by looking at 'em?"

"That's not quite how it works," she replied. "Few people can be judged from their appearance – psychiatry is about talking to them and uncovering their true personalities and finding the root of their problems."

"So why can't you do that to yourself?" he asked. "Find out who you are, and find the root of your own problems?"

She shrugged. "It's easier to tell other people what to do. Much harder to follow your own advice."

"I get that," he said, lighting up a cigarette. "You want one?" he asked, offering the pack to her.

"I don't..." began Harleen, but then she paused and reached for one. "Sure, why not?" she asked. "Only way I know I don't like something is to try it, ain't that right?"

"Well, not the only way," replied Jack with a grin. "Brutal torture or painful death I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like without trying."

Harleen laughed as Jack lit the cigarette for her. She took a long puff on it, and then gasped, choking and coughing and chugging her water.

"Ok, I know I don't like that now," she said, putting down the cigarette in the ashtray.

"Hey, don't waste it!" he exclaimed, grabbing it from her and putting it to his lips next to his own. He made a face. "Ugh, you got lipstick all over it," he muttered, taking it out and wiping it off before putting it in his mouth again.

"Sorry," said Harleen. "I don't normally wear lipstick. In fact, I don't normally get dolled up like this, only…I've just come from a party, and it was expected of me."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't do anything just because people expect it of you, toots," he said. "That's no way to live. You'll never be happy trying to meet other people's expectations, because you never will meet 'em."

Harleen nodded slowly. "Yeah. Maybe you're right," she said quietly.

"You want another water?" he asked, nodding at her empty glass.

She looked at the glass, and then at him. "Maybe something a little stronger?" she asked.

He grinned. "Coming right up," he said, propping the cigarettes on the ashtray and heading back inside.

Harleen wasn't much of a drinker, and she definitely wasn't much of a drinker after all the champagne she had had at her engagement party. But she needed to drink to forget right now, to continue to enjoy this nice man's company and not remind herself that she should be getting back home to Ricky. Although she shouldn't, she remembered suddenly. Ricky was off at his own engagement party thrown by his friends – they were off camping upstate and wouldn't be back until tomorrow. She had the rest of the afternoon to spend with this man, if she choose. And the rest of the evening.

Harleen had always been a good girl. Doing what she was supposed to do, never breaking any rules, never doing anything that anyone could possibly consider bad or wrong. But as drinks turned into dinner with Jack, and then back to drinks after dinner, she realized she had stopped caring about the ethics of basically spending an evening with another man other than her fiance. Jack was absolutely charming and considerate, the picture of a gentleman, and he made her laugh and smile so much. She had forgotten what it was like to genuinely laugh and be happy, but she was reminded of it as the evening drew on. And whether it was the alcohol that lowered her inhibitions, or whether her own sense of morality just snapped after being held in place for so long, the end result was that she found herself passionately kissing Jack in the bar, and then in the cab, and then whispering, "Yours," in his ear as he murmured, "Your place or mine?"

She didn't even see what Jack's place was like before he had picked her up around the waist and carried her into the bedroom. He began to undress, tearing off his jacket, and Harleen noticed that he wore a gun strapped in a holster over his shoulder. For a moment, she wondered why he would need to carry a gun, if he was a cop or something, but Jack didn't seem like a cop, and the moment he was on top of her, she was past caring what he was aside from a man.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, her rational self was screaming at her, reminding her that she was an engaged young lady, that she knew nothing about this man that she only met today, and that she shouldn't be doing this. But some other, stronger, irrational part of her was past the point of caring. Jack was incredible – his mouth and hands and body did things to her own body that she had never felt before with her fiance. Ricky and she had been each other's first, and so she had never known anything but his desperate fumblings and comparatively limited stamina. Not so with Jack. Jack was a man, and an expert at making a woman feel like a woman. Harleen had never felt anything like what he did to her body – it was indescribable.

This was wrong, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep in his arms afterward. She had done a bad, crazy thing, and she should feel incredibly guilty about it. But she didn't feel guilty. She didn't feel anything but blissfully happy, for the first time in her life.