The road to Arkham is paved with well intentions, what the heck does that mean thought Harley Quinn.
Jonathan "The Scarecrow" Crane had been given a clean bill of health - rubber stamped by the geeks at Arkham Asylum. He was now ready to rejoin the greater community as a productive cooperative member of Gotham society. Harley and Prof. Crane had always gotten on well together when they were both incarcerated in Arkham - they were after all colleagues in the same esteemed medical profession (Pamela " Poison Ivy" Isley on the other hand was nothing but a glorified gardener). Crane was also a Giant among men in the study of phobias. His research papers were designated de rigor reading for aspiring psychiatry students and horror movie auteurs. His theories on early childhood phobias were considered to be sanctum. His lectures on coulrophobia filled entire campus auditoriums with screaming nubile blonde coeds. The man was THE rock god of mental health professionals, but most importantly he was Harley Quinn's friend and so it was with immense pleasure that Harley (squealing with delight) agreed over the phone with Dr Leland to act as Crane's sponsor on his release from Arkham.
Despite the horrible Gotham weather (It was turning out to be another wet cold winter), Harley Quinn thought it nothing (nothing at all) to brave the mud, wind and rain in the drive up to Arkham to collect her dear dear friend. It wasn't everyday that one had the honor of being a rock god's sponsor, especially one of Crane's magnitude. Pamela however had elected to remain where she was under her nice warm grow light, surrounded by her nice attentive plants (they preferred the term plant person or plant people to the more derogative term "mutant"), in her nice secure loft located in a nice up and coming inner city neighborhood. Gotham winters were becoming increasingly wet and wild (global warming) and Pam liked to keep herself warm or if possible comfortable or if at all possible she would rather sleep until spring.
Pamela was still sleeping under her sun lamp surrounded by a nest of silent sinister looking hawthorns when Harley Quinn and Prof. Crane (that brilliant man) made their way into her lair.
"My.... Ivy looks just wonderful. Its a miracle what a little sun and water and tender loving care can do. I say dear child you really do have a green thumb." Crane remarked as he casted admiring glances at Pamela's beautiful lithe figure beneath the now swaying mass of hawthorns. Even Harley had to agree that Pam was looking good despite the horrible weather (nothing grows in Gotham) - it really was wonderful what these new low voltage long life grow lights could do.
"Do you have to read to her a lot these days?" asked Crane as the rosebush helped him out of his wet coat, his eyes spying in the dim light an open book that Harley had discarded aside on the floor. Crane was of course careful to make sure that he kept his distance from the sleeping figure. He was quite well aware that his presence unlike Harley Quinn's was beginning to agitate the hawthorns.
Harley smiled and nodded. Although Pamela was more than capable of making her own reading choices, she was spending less and less time awake as the days grew shorter and Gotham descended into winter. Reading aloud to Pamela was Harley's way of reaching out to her as she slumbered, a gentle reminder to Pamela that she wasn't alone. That was one of the reasons Harley was so looking forward to spending some time with Crane. The quiet days would be wonderful now that Prof. Crane was out of Arkham, there were so many things she wanted to consult him on. He really was a brilliant man.
Harley Quinn had arranged for Jonathan Crane to stay in an apartment across the street from them. Pamela had purchased the entire block a few years back for redevelopment and her estate manager had done wonders for property prices in the area. Where once there was nothing but boarded up shops left looted with broken windows and dirty desolated apartment blocks occupied by human junkies, there was now independent bookstores, ethnic eateries and grocery shops offering strange and wonderful fruit and vegetables, green air pockets and renovated inner city housing popular with students and yuppies. Harley was sure that Prof. Crane would love living in such a vibrant little community after dull drab Arkham and surprisingly Jonathan Crane did in a very big way.
The second week Jonathan Crane left Arkham saw Harley Quinn flat on her back on the floor of Pamela's loft. In the preceding weeks, Crane had overloaded her digestive system with mirchi bada, buknu, bhujiya, chaat, kachori, imarti, several types of pickles (known as achar), murabba, sharbat, aam panna and aam papad, followed by gulab jamun, jalebi, peda, petha, rewdi, gajak, bal mithai, singori, kulfi, falooda, khaja, ras malai, gulkand, and several varieties of laddu, barfi and halwa. He had dragged her to meet the neighbors in his building, the neighbors in Pamela's building, the neighbors down the street from Pamela's building, the nice Chinese couple at the corner grocery store and the neighbors down the street from his building. Harley Quinn swore that if she had to smile at yet another neighbor her face would crack side to side like a mirror. The plants likewise adored him (with the exception of the hawthorns who snapped at anything that came too close). On Monday, he had taken Rosie (the rosebush) to his Rumba class; he had done the Tennessee Waltz on Wednesday with Sunflower, Tangoed the night away on Friday with Lily and topped it off with the Funky Chicken on Sunday with Saffron. Suddenly the loft was alive with jiving, jiggling foliage (the place was beginning to resemble The Jungle Book on Ice as Pamela dryly put it as a couple of tulips cha cha their way down the hallway). Anyway though Harley Quinn who had thought that plants liked to dance, go figure.
And now Crane and Pamela were buzzing over each other like flies on carrion. They were working out (to their mutual insane delight) formulas for synthesizing new and terrible deliriants. There must be no barriers to freedom of inquiry Crane thundered. There is no place for dogma in science. The scientist is free, and must be free to ask any question, to doubt any assertion, to seek for any evidence, to correct any errors (it was not necessary to preach to the converted, Harley had heard the same old speech from Pamela. It was a wonder why criminally insane geniuses were always quota ting Oppenheimer). Harley Quinn was dead meat.
"Harley girl, why don't you be USEFUL and get poor Prof. Crane a LATTE." Pamela drawled distractedly under a mountain of papers scribbled with complex algorithm and symbols. Pamela was feeling allot more frisky (in more ways than one) since Crane had the man from the gardening shop install a high pressure sodium lamp ( they came recommended for use to trigger a greater flowering response in plants).
Harley shook her head, she didn't think it would be a good idea to get up off the floor given that she wasn't feeling very well. Who would have thought that mirchi bada, buknu, bhujiya, chaat, kachori, imarti, several types of pickles (known as achar), murabba, sharbat, aam panna and aam papad, followed by gulab jamun, jalebi, peda, petha, rewdi, gajak, bal mithai, singori, kulfi, falooda, khaja, ras malai, gulkand, and several varieties of laddu, barfi and halwa won't have agreed with her. Go figure.
"Yes, I could do with a nice hot LATTE from round the CORNER, if it isn't too much trouble." Crane injected quickly as he went through the copious notes stacked on the table. Harley nodded and was out the door in a flash. A Latte for Prof. Crane. Considered it do.
"I owe you, Isley" Crane hissed his voice a sinister whisper in the now strangely quiet loft.
"You owe me plenty, Crane" Pamela hissed back, her hawthorns snapping and whipping the air violently.
"That's PROFESSOR CRANE to you"
"And that's DR ISLEY to you".
"Why you overgrown potted PLANT...........I have half a mind to pour a bottle of HERBICIDE over your LITTLE GREEN HEAD only it would upset that dear child too much"
"And I have half a mind to ask my HAWTHORN here to shove her VINES up that BEAK you call a NOSE only HARLEY won't let me"
"You're been feeding people to that mutant pitcher plant you keep in your private hideaway over the Saucy Tomato, thinking of trying out for Gotham's Funniest Home Videos are we?"
"And you're been doing the Freddy Krueger with the neighbors."
"YOU ROTTEN PIECE OF MOLD"
"YOU WEEDY LITTLE STRAW MAN"
"You would like some tea, Dr. Isley?" Crane sniffed and collected himself. There wasn't any point in having a shouting match with the green strumpet. There was work to be done and so very little time for now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
The next few weeks were a blur of activity for Harley Quinn. There was that business of Mr J's that needed attending to (much as she hated leaving Prof. Crane on his own) there was nothing to be done, Mr J needed her and she needed to be needed by Mr J. So it was to her great surprise that she found Crane and Pamela doing nothing more than sitting down to tea (Prof. Crane had pop in early to pick up Rosie for the Rumba class) when Bongo and the Boys finally dropped her off (3 weeks late she may add) on their way to the Iceberg Lounge (Giggles was hoping to finally get up enough nerve to ask Edward "Riddler" Nigma's henchwench Quiz out. He liked women who walked around in leathers and wasn't afraid to use a little force.
Harley Quinn was so happy to be finally back that she gave them a group hug (Mandy scout style) causing the hawthorns to whip and snap viciously. The latest gossip out of Arkham (courtesy of Jervis "Mad Hatter" Tetch) was that Dr Bart (that strange and lonely man) was dating the hat check girl from the Iceberg Lounge (the woman whom Tetch was secretly madly in love with but whom he could never bring himself to talk to) after she had been ditched by Waylon "Killer Croc" Jones. It was all so rebound. Anyway she could have easily gotten Killer Croc to do what she wanted for a couple of Boston chickens, that after all was how Mary "Baby Doll" Dahl managed to rope down and hogtie her man. On a happier note, Tetch reports that Scar face is recovering well after a run in with Harvey "Two Face" Dent the details of which he did not say out of respect for Scar face who won't like it if he knew that Tetch was blacken in his name over a two bit fight.
When Rosie was ready in her Rumba outfit, Crane gallantly swept his dance partner out the door, leaving Harley Quinn very very alone with Pamela Isley and a high pressure sodium lamp.
Harley was gently nibbling Pamela's nose, their limbs entwined together, the sweat slowly cooling off their bare bodies making the air between them damp and heavy with the smell of sex when Pamela's hawthorn suddenly started snapping and whipping the air furiously - Harley could feel Pamela's lithe body tense - her strong legs enveloping Harley - pulling her in tighter in a protective bear hug - as her hawthorns sought out the alien presence in the loft.
"So this is what you girls do for fun" a voice playfully rang out from the window. It was Selina "Catwoma" Kyle and it was a business call. Selina wanted information on what Crane was doing. Why was he doing the Rumba with Rosie the rosebush.
"And YOU couldn't just pick up the PHONE and CALL?" Pamela asked incredulously her beautiful face an unreadable mask. Harley Quinn at this point was trying unsuccessfully to wiggle out of Pamela's bear hug (abs of steel) so that she could cover her bare tush from Selina's obviously interested appraisal. The low down was that Crane was up to something, dark and dangerous and the Bat was tearing up Gotham trying to find out
"And HE couldn't pick up the PHONE and CALL? Crane has Rumba class Mondays. Its part of his rehabilitation program." Pamela hissed.
"You know how it is with him. By the way she DOES have a nice tush." Selina smirked and disappeared back from where she came from (much like the Cheshire Cat) before Pamela's vines could snap her neck.
The mayhem continues in Chapter 2...............................