A Very Unusual Way

In the depths of Gotham City, the light faded. Not that there had ever been much light to spare, but now what little was left, was diminished. Though seeing as the metropolis thrived on smoke and deception, light wasn't something that was usually noticed or missed. At least, not by the main populace.

But then again, for Kristina Moran- the right hand woman to Black Mask- the hours past sunset were more often than not, more than she could bear. For she feared the darkness and the night terrors that always accompanied the night. But having forced herself to be optimistic- despite her natural fears- several hours prior, when the new darkness had just fallen, the woman had believed it to have been the makings of a productive night. Or at least she had, until her job had gone south.

Currently, Kristina- or Nightmare as she had so ironically been named- ran through the back alleys of the dingy city, her now bare feet hitting the pavement with harsh thuds. Running against the ground without the protection of shoes would surely catch up with her later on, but the high heels she had been wearing had done nothing but slow her down. So she had shed them, and continued on her way without giving them a second thought. For why would she care about shoes, when she had several gun-men hot on her trail?

The woman's chest heaved heavily as she rounded yet another corner and sprinted towards the industrial part of Gotham. Usually she would have stood her ground and fought back, but at the moment she couldn't. Not when there were so many innocent people on the streets.

Nightmare might have been a criminal beyond help, but she wasn't about to let somebody take a bullet that was intended for her. Her dignity and pride wouldn't have allowed it.

The goody-two-shoed people of the world claimed that there was no honor amongst criminals, but it just wasn't true. The old time Mob-bosses of Gotham were as honorable as you could get; and it was one of the main reasons why they were still in business. Because if they hadn't had the backbone to survive, the Batman would have won Gotham City years ago.

True that the Mobsters might have been murderers, thieves, and con-men; but they had never lied about it. They were open to the public, and they were respected for it. Not once had they pretended to be anything that they weren't, and it was for this, that they were given their dues. Unchanged and independent, despite the flying rat infestation that they had suffered.

As Kristina forced herself to keep up the trying pace, she pushed the flood of thoughts from her mind, and took deep breaths as she passed into one of the packing yards near the Sionis Steel Mill. She didn't have time to focus on anything other than her escape, and thoughts that deviated to her boss would only serve as a distraction. And distractions got one killed in situations like this; so Kristina silenced her busy inner-voice and booked it.

Nightmare fought her fatigue as she passed into familiar territory, and smiled as the mill came into her view. She had to get inside the towering building, and then she would be safe. Or at least, safe enough to fight back . . .

With a final push of stamina, Kristina ran to chain-link fence that surrounded the Mill and began to climb. She moved fast and without a hitch, despite the fact that she was wearing a revealing evening dress, and was shoeless. Sure, the goons following her most likely got an eyeful, but it couldn't be helped.

Several shots fired and the woman felt two of the bullets come close enough to graze her flesh, but she was able to drop to the other side of the fence before they made complete contact. Without a moment's hesitation, she continued her fast pace towards the mill and reached out her hand for one of the large double doors.

Once inside, the odds would be in her favor. . . Just a moment more, and the fight would be leveled to more even playing field. . . Almost there! . . . The handle was in her palm, she was pulling it back and the inside of the Mill met her relived blue-gaze. . . She had made it! . . . But then, something side-stepped into her vision, and she was being pushed back into the darkness by a boot clad foot. The initial kick sent Kristina flying backwards to the muddy ground, and as her head hit one of the metal poles laying there, her vision began to swim.

Black circles entered her usually acute vision, and she began to lose consciousness.

But before Kristina fell into the darkness, the woman heard a familiar voice call her name and a painted face hovered just above hers.

Then, she knew no more.

Kristina awoke to the worst headache she'd had in years and a throbbing ache in her side.

Slowly, with sensitive eyes, the woman fought to focus her gaze on her surroundings and recall what had happened. . . .

She had been attacked before she could reach the safety of the Steel Mill- that was for certain- and then she had blacked out. . . But who was it that had hit her?

"Wow, sorry Nighty!" A shrill voice called loudly from the corner of the small room, making Kristina's head snap towards the sound. "I didn't mean ta conk yer lights out like that! Ya alright, sweetie? That's quite the bump ya got there."

Kristina tried to focus her eyes again, and after a minute more of concentration the newcomer was made known to her.

"Har-Harley?"

"That's right! For a minute there I thought ya didn't remember me!"

Nightmare stared at her old companion with shocked covered features.

Harley Quinn hadn't changed in the two plus years since the woman had seen her. Still the same clown face-paint, outlandish outfit, and impressive platform boots. The same boots- Kristina realized- that had knocked her to the ground and dealt her the nearly instant K.O.

Kristina was about to ask what Harley was doing, when she became aware of the fact that her arms and legs were bound and she was sitting in a chair. . . And that she was in what looked to be an old interrogation room with a solid wall of glass that was as dark as midnight.

"Harley. . . Where are we?"

Harley shook her head, "Uh uh, Nightmare! No spoiling surprises! Mistah J made me promise not ta tell!"

"Joker?" Nightmare felt her blood run cold. She had once worked for the Joker, but since she had fallen out from his crowd, she hadn't run into him. Which was a blessing, considering that he most likely would have killed her rather than look at her at this point.

"Yep," Harley chirped happily, completely oblivious to Nightmare's plight. "I promised not to spoil anything until after I'd talked to ya!"

"What did you want to talk to me about," Kristina asked hesitantly.

Here, Harley's face grew serious. "Mistah J originally wanted to off ya, but I was able to convince him to give ya a deal instead."

Kristina's felt her heartbeat increase, but fought to stay calm. Despite the fact that she knew what was coming. . .

"What deal?"

"My puddin' wants ta know about Black Mask's trading routes," Harley clarified solemnly. "You give me the dirt on whatcha know about them- seeing as yer one of Sionis' higher ups- and you get ta live. Maybe, you'll get to rejoin our crew, Nighty! It'd be just like old times! You and me, and more scores than we could ever hope ta accomplish!"

Kristina felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips as she listened to Harley's proposal. It was temping. Her time on the Joker's crew had been one of the best portions of her life. She had been happy and she had had Harley to guide her footsteps. She had learned how to fight, how to stand on her own two feet, how to live without another's leave thanks to Harley. . . .But despite this, Black Mask had taught her more. In the end, Roman Sionis had given her something far more precious than petty criminal knowledge and scores. He had given her a second chance.

"I can't, Harley. . . I won't."

"Come on, Nightmare, it's a great deal! Mistah J was very generous to offer ya this . . . Please, honey, yer like my sister," Harley said sadly. "I love ya somethin' fierce! But I'll have no choice but ta kill ya if ya don't tell me what ya know."

Kristina fought to remain calm, but as she took a breath, a shaky sob escaped her mouth and tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes.

She didn't want to die. On the contrary, she wanted to live! But it seemed that she wouldn't make it through another night. Because no matter how much she wanted to take the deal, Nightmare knew that she wouldn't be able to betray Roman Sionis.

. . . Not when he had helped her come so far. . . Not when he meant so much to her. . .

"It looks like you'll be a bullet short in your gun then, Harley," she whispered through her tears. "Cause I'm not going to tell you anything."

Harley's eyes grew wet too, as she looked at her old pupil. "Black Mask isn't worth yer life, Nightmare! He wouldn't give his life to help you outta a scrape! So why should you do what he wouldn't?!"

"You know why, Harley," Nightmare said between tears. "It's the same reason you'd do anything for Joker."

The Clown Princess of Crime shook her head as she repeated, "He isn't worth it."

"Perhaps not," Kristina agreed. "But I'm willing to take that chance."

Harley Quinn slowly pulled out a handgun that she had tucked into her suit, and released the safety. Then, she pointed the gun directly at Kristina's head.

"Please don't make me do this, Nightmare," Harley cried anxiously. "Please just tell me what you know! Or lie, and I'll tell Mistah J that you were used!"

Kristina just shook her head. "I can't, Harley."

Harley backed towards the nearby door, and reached for the knob that rested behind her. And she begged one last time as she leveled the gun.

"Please, Nightmare!"

"No."

"Sweetie, just tell me! PLEASE!"

"NO! I WON'T!"

Harley sobbed, as she held the gun steady and began to pull the trigger. Just before the gun kicked, she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Kristina closed her eyes tight, and whispered a prayer under her breath as she waited for the bullet to penetrate her skull. And as the loud crack of the gun resounded throughout the still room, the woman knew that she was a goner.

. . . But then . . . several seconds later, there was no pain. . . There was no blood or death. . . She was still alive!

Opening her teary light blue eyes, Nightmare looked to the doorway where her old friend stood with the smoking gun in her hand. At the last moment, Harley had turned the gun and buried the bullet into the nearest wall. She had given her old comrade the most precious of gifts: her life.

"He's lucky ta have you, Kristina," Harley said with an unreadable smile as she rubbed her tears away. "More than he knows."

And without another word, the Clown Princess of Crime exited the room, and closed the door behind her with a soft click. And the moment that Harley Quinn was out of sight, Kristina let her resolve drop and began to sob hysterically.

In that moment, despite the fact that she was still alive, Kristina was afraid. For never before had she been so close to death's door . . . Never before had she wanted to live so badly.

Black Mask smiled from his place behind the glass of the interrogation room- having just watched the entire exchange- though his smirk was hidden from the sight of his accomplice as she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

The Mob-Boss was beyond pleased. His little woman had passed the ultimate test, and hadn't let him down. She had been afraid, but still hadn't squealed on him. That was more loyalty than any hired gun or underling had ever shown him, and the euphoria that came with Kristina's bravery was intoxicating.

Standing there, as he looked at her startled, shaking form from behind the tinted glass, Roman Sionis could honestly say that she'd never been more beautiful. Never more intriguing, or sexually appealing then she was now.

And somehow, the man knew that no matter what, she'd never be this beautiful again. . . This was her moment, her true moment, and it was something to behold.

"So, ya happy, Sionis?"

Black Mask didn't look at the Clown Bimbo as he nodded, for he was still too enraptured to peel his gaze away from Nightmare. Besides, he decided to give Harley a moment to compose herself and her tears, before he answered her.

"Peachy, Quinzel, just peachy."

Harley shook her head with a huff as she came to stand next to the renowned Mobster, whipping her eyes with the sleeve of her costume to rid herself of the last of her tears.

"You really are jacked up, ya know that? I've never known a man who'd do something like this to his own girl. . . Not when she wasn't squealing on 'im or anythin'! It's just twisted!"

Black Mask sighed, and would have explained that he hadn't had a choice. That he had to test Nightmare to make sure she was reliable; but he wasn't in the habit of explaining himself to anyone, let alone the Joker's whore. So he gave her the brush off, and turned it around on her.

"I'm sure the Joker has done worse to you," he commented calmly. "Knowing the Clown, he wouldn't have missed if he'd had a gun aimed atcha. It would have been a perfect pointblank shot, and you'd be a goner."

"Mistah J knows I'm not a squealer," Harley shot back heatedly, her eyes flashing dangerously. "He knows that I love him, without all the tests and meaningless words! Unlike you! You have to mess with yer girl's brain before ya trust her! And that's just sick!"

"Opposed to being thrown off a balcony, Quinn?" Black Mask countered with an easy laugh. "You think that fallin' from a building is more romantic than being grazed by some miss-aimed bullets?"

Harley's bottom lip trembled and she shook her head, "Th-That was an accident. . . Mistah J never wanted to hurt me."

Black Mask laughed again, but there was little humor to his tone. For it was a well-known fact that the Joker didn't care about anything or anyone- including himself- and yet the therapist turned bimbo ignored that fact. In truth, Sionis pitied her. She was ditsy and annoying at times, but an overall talented dame when it came to bank jobs and good old fashioned brawls. Harley could have easily made it big with any Boss in town, but . . . she had chosen the Joker . . . So Sionis wouldn't think twice about it. She was lost, and there was no gettin' her back.

"Whatever you say, Quinzel," he said finally, before reaching up to pull something out of his inner jacket pocket. "A job well done, by the way. Here's yer dough."

Harley was still frowning, but took the small satchel that Black Mask offered her. And with quick fingers, she opened the drawstring, and glanced inside. When her eyes came to rest on the merchandise housed within, her smile instantly returned.

"Oh, Sionis! Ya shouldn't have!"

The Mobster shrugged. "I heard somewhere that diamonds are a girl's best friend. And that they're easier to carry around than cash, when the cops are snoopin' around."

Harley pocketed the bag of jewels and giggled. "That's true enough! But why are you being so thoughtful? I thought ya didn't like me?"

"I don't like ya," Black Mask answered evenly. "The only reason I didn't kill you the second you walked back into this room, was because Nightmare seems ta think of ya as a friend. Now leave, before I change my mind."

Harley held up her hands in surrender, "Alright, alright! Geez, I'm going!"

Joggin towards the buidlings' exit, the clown princess offered one more thing as way of farewell, and it made Black Mask's smile return despite himself.

"I suppose I understand you wanting ta cover your bases, Sionis. I really do. But if ya ever hurt Kristina like this again, I'll kill ya with my bare hands. Ya got that?"

"Sure, Quinzel," the Boss replied. "We understand each other just fine."

"Good," Harley said as she walked out of the small room and back into the Gotham night. "Cause I'd hate to have ta off Nightmare's man."

Black Mask chuckled to himself at the threat, before he returned his attention to the woman who still waited on the other side of the glass. Still, shockingly beautiful though her tremors had died down considerably, Kristina was a portrait of eternal life.

Black Mask's hand reached into his pocket once more and retrieved his trusty gun. Then, his eyes never leaving his woman, he aimed the gun at the far wall and fired several shots. When the shot's echoes had fallen into silence once more, the Mobster moved towards the door and forcefully kicked it open, rushing in with his gun still drawn and a ready curse falling from his lips.

Moving quickly to Kristina's side, he dropped to his knees in front of her and began to untie her legs and arms. He noted the shock that covered her bruised face.

"Roman? Bo-Boss? . . . What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I never lost ya, doll face," the man answered in a voice that held both affection and anger. "Some of the boys saw you hauled off, and came to get me. The Joker and his clown whore are gonna pay for doing this to you. No one hurts my woman and gets away with it. Nobody."

Kristina stared at him for several long moments, and Sionis thought that perhaps she would see through his charade. But then, fresh tears began to fall from her misty blue eyes, and she reached her newly freed hands to hug him.

"Roman," she cried, clinging to him. "Roman!"

Black Mask held her close- not minding the show of weakness- and crooned in her ear. "That's right, sweetheart. That's right, I'm yours. And I'm never gonna let this happen to ya again, I swear. Never again, to my beautiful girl."

Kristina cried some more at this, and Black Mask relished in the close proximity of her body next to his. She really was something else, his little Nightmare. Even when she was crying and held her heart on her sleeve, she was stronger than most men he'd met.

"Doll face, look at me," he commanded suddenly, as he pulled away from her arms, "I want ta see ya."

Kristina complied, and as their eyes met, Sionis was lost.

With a deep growl echoing from the back of his throat, the Mob-Boss pulled his woman's lips to his own and kissed her. It was a hard press of passion against her already bruised mouth, but she didn't seem to mind. In-fact, Kristina kissed him back without any objection.

Kisses, and growls, and curses passed between them in quick succession; their moment complete in the roughness they shared.

And as the two fought for dominance, Black Mask came to a realization.

In a very unusual way, he, Roman Sionis loved Kristina Moran.

And he liked it. . . .

. . . . In a very unusual way, Black Mask was in love with a Nightmare.

A/N: Just a Black Mask oneshot for a friend. Hope you guys like it! Please drop a review and let me know if everyone was in-character! ^^

~Lyn Harkeran