Parallel

by MidnightClover

This story follows after, A Bold Decision. Harleen has been waiting for Joker to come fetch her for his gang, but time has passed and he hasn't appeared once. Now with Batman on her tail, will she have to give up on him and hide away on her own?

Harleen winced as the cold liquid dribbled down the back of her neck. Using a gloved finger to catch the droplet before it reached her towel, she firmly led it back up to her wet hair then continued to squeeze the plastic bottle into her roots.
It had been a little over six months since she had last seen Joker. Well, at least seen him in person. He was always on the news when he was causing trouble, and she had heard his laughter in Arkham whenever he was a patient.
Since the incident of him attacking her in the office, Dr. Mangreaves would not allow her to work on the next floor. She insisted that Harleen needed a little more experience before going back up there, along with continuing Joker's therapy. Yet the thing that made Harleen distraught, was the fact that Joker had not even requested for her to be his doctor again. Of course Mangreaves would never allow it, but for there not to be even an attempt had her worried.

Why had he not come for her?

Harleen wrinkled her nose as the stench of the hair dye worsened. Her brown roots had slowly become visible the first few months, but now it just looked dirty.
Sitting on the rim of her bath tub with her hair drenched with the smelly dye, she reflected on what she had been thinking of day and night for the past half year.

Had he changed his mind?

That had been one of the first things she had thought of. The fear of him not wanting her was not what had her worried though, it was the fear of him coming back to kill her. With any other man that would be ridiculous to think, yet with the Joker anything could happen on a whim.

Pulling her hair together she twisted it around her head, letting it sit on top like a crown while she reached out for her cellphone to check the time.

"A half hour to reminisce," she mumbled as she rose from the tubs edge and peered into the mirror.

She had changed. Her arms were a little more toned and though she did not have a flabby stomach to begin with, she could see that it too had become smoother from the exercises she had taken up since the day after he left.
Jogging, lifting weights, and even practicing some of the gymnastics she had learned as a teen in high school. Just about every time she finished her routine she could imagine herself doing something to impress him. Impress him enough for him to take her into his arms, pull her close to that fascinating polyester suit and…

Her cheeks turned crimson as a breathy giggle burst from her lips.

Perhaps that wouldn't happen, Joker didn't seem the type of guy, but it was always great motivation for when she didn't feel like moving.

Yet all this work and waiting seemed to have been a waste. There was no Joker, not even a sign of him looking for her.

"Where are you?" she yelled, bringing her fists down onto the cheap bathroom counter.

Moments later she could hear the thumps of her neighbours down stairs complaining from the bang.

"Oh shut it," she sighed as she took her seat on the tubs edge.

It didn't really matter now and she hated to admit it, but she had actually been looking forward to going out there and causing a little trouble herself. Dueling one-on-one with Batman, taking on the cops, getting the adrenaline pumping. Now though it seemed official, her previous dream of being a psychiatrist to extreme minds was dull compared to actually taking part of the fun with them.

The sound of the phone's alarm startled her from her day dreaming. Shutting it off, Harleen quickly turned on the faucet and dunked her head into the basin.

Doing her best to rinse the dye, she soon pulled back up and wrung her hair of the excess water. Once again she peered into the mirror to see that her hair was now a thorough blonde, truly making her blue eyes stand out and memories of her exciting romp with Joker return.

"Oh puddin' where are you?"

Harleen gasped as she stopped running and slowed her pace down to a walk. This was her life almost every night after work. Jogging through Crime Alley in the humid twilight hours, and thinking about what she would do further on.

Work was getting a little more difficult. The pressure increased when a patient went psychotic after being released, or one managed to break out of Arkham. What more could she do to help them free themselves from their insanity other than try to talk it out them?

Just recently she felt that progress with patients Crane and Nigma had been going wonderfully. Yet Nigma was now released, and Crane had withdrawn into himself when he saw Batman pass by his cell with another of the patients in tow.

Suddenly a thunder of noise echoed down the road while screams began to flood the air. Confused and frightened citizens around her began to scramble around, diving into store alcoves and open bars.

Unsure what to do, Harleen looked towards the noise and saw the source of commotion.

Hanging out the passenger window of a red old pick-up truck was Joker. His body rigid as he fired his gun at a pursuing Batmobile.

"C'mon Batso, is that the fastest you can drive?" he screamed over the roar of his machine gun, purple jacket whipping about in the fast winds while his frightening smile gleamed.

Harleen gazed in shock as the vehicle came closer, "J-Joker."

Just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone in a blur of red.

Harleen looked after him, her breathing growing rapid as each second he sped farther and farther away.

"You're not getting away that easily," she growled, suddenly taking off after him down the sidewalk.

She knew she had no hope of catching up to him on foot, but there was always a chance she might.

Runners pounding against the cement, she ignored the urge to hide with the other people. It hardly made sense to run after the man when we was wildly firing a machine gun in her direction. Several times she ended up jumping aside just as a pane of glass or brick exploded.

Finally his weapon seemed to run out of bullets as he threw the gun at his pursuer and pulled back into the vehicle. Moments later, her breath burning in her throat, she watched him slide back out and hold a small round object. With a bout of insane laughter and an odd hiss, smoke began to stream from his fist and cover the street in darkness.

Choking as she came into the thick cloud, she squinted and barely noticed the truck zip around the corner.

Continuing on, she hurried into an alley, all the while desperately wiping away the tears from the smoke.

Regaining some of her sight as rushed out the cloud, Harleen gasped, barely catching herself as she slammed into a tall brick wall

"Damn it," she growled, nursing a sore elbow, "No, no, no."

Pacing back a few steps she took in a deep breath and charged the wall. Inches to crashing she lunged into the air, hands groping the walls edge as she frantically climbed the bricks and pulled herself up.

Peering over the other side dread overcame her. Down below was a steep drop into a truck delivery ramp.

Searching her options, she could still hear the sound of the car chase in the distance.

Giving up on dropping down, she began to edge along the fence towards the wall beside her. Harleen braced herself against the brick wall and got to her feet. Then, springing up towards the low roof, her hands grabbed tightly onto the edge and she gradually pulled herself up.

Once on the rooftop, she hurried over to the edge that lined the street and looked down into the busy road.

People dotted the sidewalks, some still hiding while others looked down the street. Following their gaze, Harleen noticed Batman's vehicle in the distance.

Searching for a way over, she spotted a possible route. The quickest way was to hurry across the dark rooftops and use their step like descent to reach the commotion. Without time to think she rushed across the roof and leapt from the edge of the building.

For a moment she felt as if she was suspended in the night air, then swiftly her feet hit the next building and again she was running with all the speed she could muster.

Each roof meant she was getting closer, closing the distance between her and Joker.

She could hear him yelling and the faint sound of police sirens in the far distance of the city.

Finally she was on the last roof, crouching down she crawled over to the edge of the building to look down onto the scene.

Batman was to her left, stooping behind his vehicle while holding onto what seemed to be a black boomerang. To her right was Joker and his goon, the pick-up truck looked like it had crashed into a wall and now the two were firing off the last of their rounds at their opponent. On the other side of the lot she spotted a shadow creep along the wall towards the two thugs.

Squinting her eyes, she quickly recognized it to be one of Batman's sidekicks, but which she could not tell.

Any minute now the fight would be over and Joker would either be fleeing or in cuffs, but whatever the outcome her time was running out. Leaning over the edge of the building she searched frantically for any way down.

Suddenly her grip slipped on the gravel covered roof and her body was rushing down towards an open dumpster. With barely enough time to take in a breath, Harleen hit the container and the world went dark.

Everything was spinning when she awoke. Her body smelt from the garbage bags that had exploded on impact. Slowly sitting up she let out a soft cry and clutched the back of her head.

Where had everyone gone?

Clumsily crawling out the dumpster, Harleen cringed as her body ached and began to wander over to where she had last seen Joker's vehicle.

There was damage from the fight all over the area. Cracked bricks, bit of car metal, and a large pile of shell casings. Kneeling down she casually scooped one into her hand and found it was still warm.

"It couldn't have been that long ago," she mumbled.

Spinning the shell around her finger like a thimble, Harleen began to limp her way back home.

With no one around she couldn't possibly know what happened, but knowing good old Gotham news, they would have the whole story.

Back in her tiny apartment, Harleen flicked on the television as she padded her hair dry.

The walk home had been terrible. Her body was sore, she reeked of garbage, and she made absolutely no progress in gaining Joker's attention. She had considered going straight for the television, but the stench of garbage made it impossible not to clean up first.

Switching over to the news, she waited.

Minutes passed by, but nothing on the fight came up. Stories on charitable event, amazing pets doing tricks, but nothing on the Joker. Just as she was about to give up, a brief clip came on.

"Tonight, the Joker, one of Gotham's most notorious criminals, duked it out with the Batman. Police arrived on the scene of a dangerous shoot-out to find neither of the two in sight," read the newswoman quickly before flicking to another card, "Next up, penguins, nature's gentlemen?"

Harleen stared in amazement as a commercial began to dingle on the screen.

Was that it? A blazing gun fight and all they reported was a few seconds? How was she supposed to know what happened when the police gave up so easily?

Angrily switching off the television, Harleen got to get feet and stomped over to the windows. Whether it was her temper or the room, it was growing hot and all she wanted to do was scream.

Throwing open the window, she sucked in a cool breath of air and went still.

Before her on the old abandoned warehouse was a dark figure.

Goosebumps began to prickle along her skin as she leaned forward.

A gentle breeze caressed the side of her face and disturbed the figure, causing a black cape to shift from behind them.

"Batman!" she gasped, quickly backing up and drawing her drapes to a close. Holding her breath she held still, listening at the curtain for any movement.

What felt like an eternity later, she thought she heard the sound of footsteps disappearing into the night.

Slowly she let her breath escape from her burning lungs and peeped through the drape.

Outside she could no longer see the figure, but a question burned in her mind.

Why was Batman watching her apartment?

"Ms. Quinzel? Ms. Quinzel?"

"Huh? What?" Harleen spun around and found herself looking down on Dr. Mangreaves. Over the past few months the old woman had become rounder, and the stress of escaped patients seemed to have turned her grey hair white.

"Ms. Quinzel, you can't be daydreaming, you have patients to attend to," the old woman scolded, frowning as she tapped her foot impatiently on the ground.

"Sorry Dr. Mangreaves, things have just been a little…strange the past few days," Harleen sighed as her shoulders drooped.

Letting out a short breath, Mangreave's frown faded as she reached out and placed a comforting hand on Harleen's shoulder, "Look, I know things have been tough lately. As you gain more experience around here you also gain more responsibility, things have become more stressful."

Harleen nodded. She knew the old woman was just trying to relax her, but there was no way she could explain her real situation without ending up in one of these cells herself.

"I know we were all in shock when Croc killed Chloe in January, especially you since I know you both were close, but we have to move on."

Harleen's eyes widened for a moment as she looked at Mangreaves. How could she have completely forgotten about Chloe? Had her mind been so occupied by Joker that she had already forgotten the death of her dear friend?

"I'll do my best."

"Very good, now let's start the day with a happy smile and see if we can get Crane to talk to you again."

Harleen managed a smile as she followed Mangreave's over to Crane's cell. The old woman nodded her head towards it then took a step back.

Approaching the door with more confidence than she had months earlier, she wrapped her knuckles on the door and pulled aside the partition.

"Good morning Jonathon, how're you feeling?" she asked, watching the skinny man sit curled up in the corner of his room.

Crane lifted his head, his eyes momentarily wide. Sluggishly he climbed to his feet and moved towards the door, "I am fine Ms. Quinzel, but why are you here?"

"Here? I am always here Jonathon."

"No," he said, bringing his face close to the door so all she could see was a penetrating eye, "Aren't you supposed to be with someone… like a clown?"

A tinge of fear over took her as a cold sweat began to trickle down her spine, quickly she closed the partition and forced a quizzical expression for Mangreaves.

"What was that all about?" she laughed.

But really, she thought, what was that all about. She had never told anyone, so why did Crane say something so odd.

The rest of her work shift went by slowly. Each moment she was with Mangreaves she feared the woman would realize what Crane meant and ask her about it. Yet as the day continued, Mangreaves made no mention and they were finally parting ways.

Sitting in her car Harleen leaned forward to get a better look at the asylum. For a moment she drummed her fingers along the steering wheel, an ache of a suspicion building with in her. Before she could give words to her theory it slipped from her mind and she was turning over the engine.

That night, dressed in her usual black capris pants and red tank top, Harleen headed down the steps of her apartment building to go for her evening jog.

Pulling her hair through an elastic, Harleen stepped out onto the sidewalk and took in a fresh lungful of air. The weather lately had been lovely. Hot and humid through the day, with cool evenings when the sun went down, making people everywhere go out for strolls on their own or with loved ones.

Enjoying the extra company along her routes, Harleen began her jog at a slow pace.

It was funny how nothing could happen for such a long time, then in the span of one day everything could turn upside down.

The appearance of Joker, Crane hinting that he knew something, and sadly, remembering the death of Chloe.

It had come as a shock when Harleen found out. She had received a call that night from a guard who told her that as they were moving Croc to his cell he suddenly went wild. In the progress of his rampage he ended up crushing Chloe against a wall, who them later passed from her severe internal injuries.

A feeling of queasiness caused Harleen to slow her jog to a walk. It had been a horrible night, one she thought she would hold onto forever, yet she had forgotten.

Harleen brought her hands up to her eyes to wipe away the small tears that had formed.

"Need a tissue Miss?"

"No, no thank you," she laughed, quickly bringing her hands down to her side, "Just a bit of- Nigma!"

"Harleen, we know each other so well, please just call me Edward," laughed Nigma as he tipped his green bowler hat.

"What are you doing here? And dressed like that!" she sputtered, taking in his green jacket and pants, with black shirt and question mark tie.

"Why? Well for one I am proving I have more fashion sense than many of these morons, and two, I am a free man. I can go anywhere I please since I have been deemed by the state to be 'safe'."

Harleen looked about. People were beginning to hurry in the direction they came as they recognized Nigma, and who wouldn't, it wasn't like his attire wasn't infamous.

Grabbing hold of his purple gloved hand, Harleen urgently pulled him into the nearest alley. Once into the shadows she whipped around, hand on her hip while the other scolded.

"You can't be dressed like that around here. Everyone will recognize you and be frightened. If you want to be accepted back into society as a regular person you have to start acting like one."

"A regular person?" he snorted, "Why on earth would I want to be accepted by these buffoons?"

"Isn't that the goal? To leave Arkham and become one of the people?"

Nigma chuckled, shaking his head with a pitying expression, "Oh Harleen, you really do not know do you?"

"Know what?" she cried.

"No one in Arkham wants to be a regular citizen. The goal, as you put it, is to fool the doctors and be released, then continue on with our everyday way of life."

"But then you'll just be thrown back in the asylum!" she shouted.

He shrugged, "It goes with the life. Breaking out has its benefits too, but it is so much easier to make plans when the police and Batman are not already searching for you."

"Why are you telling me this," she grumbled, folding her arms, "I can just go straight back to Mangreaves and tell her all that you've said. With that you'd never be released again."

A wicked grin spread across his lips as he leaned forward on his walking stick, looking down at her with dark eyes, "You wouldn't because we know your secret."

Harleen swallowed.

His grin did not subside as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "We know who you're waiting for."

"And… and who do you mean by we?" she asked, already dreading the answer.

Nigma only smiled as he righted himself, "You know as much as I hate him, if we know, then Gotham's self-proclaimed knight must also know."

"Batman," she gasped, watching him remove his hat to flick off some dust.

"Indeed."

"I-I already saw him. He was outside my window last night!"

Nigma stopped and looked at her sternly. Casually he replaced his hat on his head and drew a card from his pocket. "He's not coming for you Harleen, but Batman might if you continue to wait."

She gave a frustrated sigh as she touched her warming cheeks with her cold fingers.

"I can keep you safe though. If you see him again, give me a call and I'll help you get out of his sight," he said, poking the corner of his card into her clenched fingers.

With a pitying frown Nigma walked out the alley, causing a few screams as he emerged then disappeared.

Harleen stumbled backwards, her back hitting a brick wall hard as she began to slide down to the ground.

Joker wasn't coming. Batman was watching her. And she had a suspicion that 'we' meant every Arkham patient.

Bringing her hand up she pulled out the card from between her fingers.

One side was just black font that said Riddler, while the other was two Sudoku puzzles.

"Of course it wouldn't be easy," she sighed, unable to help the small smile that pulled on her mouth.

Returning to her apartment, Harleen locked the door and turned to face her windows. Since the previous night she had not drawn her drapes open again, she felt too scared to see the figure there again. It was kind of funny. Many people of Gotham looked to Batman to save them when trouble occurred, yet now she never wanted to see him again.

Not bothering to turn the lights on, she cautiously approached the window.

Softly the drapes fluttered from the breeze outside, bringing in the smell of cool air and metal from the factories around her.

Stopping before the window she froze. Slowly she took in a deep breath, her hands shaking as she gently brought them up to the cotton material. Exhaling raggedly from her mouth she grasped the drapes and ripped them open.

Relief calmed her as saw nothing. Just the old warehouse surrounded by darkness.

Opening the rest of the drapes, Harleen laughed at her own fear. There was the possibility that Nigma was pulling her leg and maybe she just hallucinated the shadow from her head injury. Also maybe the patients were so bored from their imprisonment that they noticed the small change in her after meeting Joker. That had to be it.

Tossing the card onto her kitchen counter, Harleen filled a glass with cold water and took a long drink.

Tomorrow was a new day. She would ignore Crane's taunting if he tried again and continue on as if nothing happened.

The next day Crane did not attempt to draw a reaction from her, in fact, he wasn't there at all.

Outside of his old cell, Harleen looked curiously at the hole which had been blown into his wall. Rubble was strewn everywhere, and even the cell door had popped out of its hinges.

The guards had been so shocked by the explosion that they had not realized it was an escape attempt, and Crane had easily gotten away.

Stepping inside the room, Harleen looked out the improvised window.

Down below was a huge drop into the water. Large jagged jutting out while the tide crashed roughly against the cliff wall.

There was no way Crane lived. Unless the explosion was caused by help and they had a helicopter, he could not have possibly survived the fall.

"Harleen get out of there!" gasped Mangreaves as she rushed in and dragged her out by the arm.

"What's the matter?"

"You could've fallen! This cell needs to be blocked off. Go start the route I am going to find someone to get this area secured," stomping off, Harleen could hear the woman grumbling about the lack of safety in the building before disappearing in the staircase.

Shrugging it off, Harleen continued with her route.

"Good morning Jervis, how're you?" Harleen asked into Tetch's cell.

"Tired, the racket from my neighbour last night kept me up for hours," groaned the tall man as he approached the door and casually leaned against it.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep then, it's not like you're going anywhere," Harleen offered.

"That seemed kind of cruel."

"Oh," Harleen tapped her lips, trying to hide her embarrassment, "I didn't mean it that way it's just-"

"I get it, you don't have to explain." The lanky man smiled at her before returning to his bunk, "You're probably right."

"Well… have a good rest," she said as she closed the divider.

That could have gone better, she thought while she went to greet the next few patients. It was odd, now that she thought about it. Lately the patients had become a little friendlier with her. She had just pinned it on to the fact that they were getting to know her, but what if it wasn't that, what if it was because they knew she wanted to join ranks with one of them.

Harleen shook her head. She was putting too much into what Nigma had said. She couldn't believe anything these loons said. Not even Joker.

By the end of the day the news vans had once again arrived to Arkham's parking lot, and Mangreaves was off to calm the city down on their escaped patient.

This sort of event had become a little too familiar for Harleen. Who would have thought Arkham, the big stone fortress, would be so easy for these loons to escape.

Finishing off some of her paper work, Harleen suddenly heard a scream.

Jumping out of her chair and dashing into the hallway, she heard the noise turn from a shout to just angry yelling. As the noise continued to climb the stairs she recognized the routine.

Looking about, she pulled open the door to a nearby broom cupboard and dove inside just before Batman appeared in the doorway of the staircase.

"You were so quick at finding him," Mangreaves flirted as she followed the tall dark man pulling along an obviously upset Crane.

Seconds later journalists began to file through the door, clicking cameras and yelling questions for the two to answer.

Tonight's news scoop had been interrupted by the return of Crane and everyone wanted to question the silent vigilante.

Harleen pulled the door shut just a little more, barely letting light fill in through the crack.

"Yes well, it seems his usual room is ah, out of order. Let me find somewhere open. Ms. Quinzel, do you know which room is free?" Mangreaves yelled towards the open office door.

Curiously the journalists also peeked towards the room before Harry the security guard came out to usher them back down the stairs. "Alright, you have your pictures. Get going."

Harleen squeezed the door's handle. She couldn't just ignore Mangreaves, but she seriously did not want Batman to see her.

"Hmph, where is that girl. Well let me check," Mangreaves said, hurrying down the line of doors until she found one that was empty. "In here will do."

Without a word, Batman tossed the still irritable man into the cell and closed the door.

"Hope to see you soon!" yelled the doctor as the Dark Knight left, her cheeks tinging red as she stared long fully after him.

As soon as he was gone, Harleen came out the closet with a mop in hand.

"Ms. Quinzel! I was calling for you!" Mangreaves shouted angrily, her euphoria gone.

"Sorry, I spilt my coffee and needed to grab a mop."

"For almost five minutes?" she growled, folding her arms with an unbelieving expression.

Harleen opened and closed her mouth then shamefully lowered her head to mumble, "It's Batman…"

Suddenly a look of understanding crossed Mangreaves face, "I understand now."

Harleen looked up in horror.

"You wanted to hide from him because you also- I mean you find him attractive."

"Huh?"

"Do not worry," chucked the doctor, "I completely understand. Yes, he is quite the intimidating specimen. I imagine a young virgin such as yourself would feel the need to hide from his smoldering gaze."

Harleen spluttered a mixture of a laughter and a gasp. Mangreaves seemed to take it as embarrassment as she nodded and patted Harleen on the back.

"Quite alright, you'll someday be able to stay in his presence."

That night Harleen still continued to laugh as she remembered what Mangreaves said.

A virgin, her?

Well maybe that was not too difficult to believe with her busy schedule and lack of dates for the past year, but it still was pretty hilarious. Mangreaves must have read romance novels religiously.

Stretching out on her couch, Harleen flicked on the television just as the story of Crane's escape and quick return came on.

The newscaster happily told the story of a daring escape that had destroyed part of Arkham and how only hours later was Crane returned. Handing the story over to an expert, they continued to talk dully on the statistics of escapees lately, and how old Arkham was.

With a bored sigh she flicked her eyes to the window and stopped breathing.

There once again was the Dark Knight's shadow. Even in the weak light of the moon she could see his grim expression.

Lowering her eyes she stared wide eyed at the carpet.

What would happen? Why was he here?

Nigma. She had to contact him.

Stiff but slowly, she rose from the sofa and tried to calmly walk over to the kitchen. From the counter she snatched up the card and her phone then hurried into the only private room in her apartment. The bathroom.

Once the door was locked she lowered the toilet lid and took a seat.

Harleen switched on her phone and turned the card over.

"Shit," she breathed, looking over the puzzle. This was no time to be solving some riddle, she needed help, and she needed it now.

Frantically looking about, she snatched up an eyeliner pencil from the counter and placed the card down.

Looking over the puzzle, her hand shaking, she slowly filled in the squares.

Minutes later she began to press the numbers into her phone and waited.

"Hello?"

"Edward!"
"Ha, thought you had the right number did you? Try again."

Harleen stared in disbelief at her phone before looking the puzzle over again. The message was definitely right, at one point she had entered the same number in twice. Doing her best to work around the already marked card, she finished once again.

With her breath growing shaky, and foot tapping impatiently on the ground she tried the new number.

"Hello?"

"Edward?"

"Ah Harleen."

Quickly Harleen went in to explaining that Batman was outside her window. For a moment Nigma thought before giving her precise instructions.

"You need to get out of there. Leave behind everything. Phone, wallet, anything that could be named to you. Bring some clothes and meet me at Aparo Park."

"Okay, wait, where is that?"

"It is west of Crime Alley, near New Trigate Bridge. Do not drive your card, take any other form of transportation."
"Right, got it."

Hanging up, Harleen crept back into her apartment. Looking through the window she could no longer see Batman. Urgently she closed the drapes just in case he returned, then went in search of a bag.

Finding her old backpack, Harleen began to stuff it full of essentials. Clothes, toothbrush, soap, and even her runners.

Heading for the door she looked at her phone which was still in hand. Just about everyone called it to get in contact with her. How would anyone know where she is?

Mulling it over, she tossed the phone onto the bed and left the apartment.

It was almost midnight by the time she reached the park. Clutching tightly to the strap of her bag, Harleen slowly walked along the dark path.

Reaching the centre of the park, she frowned and looked behind her. There had been no vehicles parked by when she arrived, was it possible he was not here yet.

"Good evening Harleen."

Jumping, Harleen looked to see Nigma emerge from the shadows of the surrounding trees with a smirk before tipping his hat.

"Edward, you scared me," she growled, bringing up a threatening fist.

Nigma raised his hands defensively, though his expression never faded. "Forgive me my dear, but you were the one who said I shouldn't be seen in public like this."

Harleen frowned before nodding and heading towards him, "Now what?"

"Well now you work for me."

"Work for you?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Of course," he said, starting to head deeper into the park.

Catching up, she followed along beside him, "What do you mean though?"
"Isn't it obvious? You shall be one of my helpers in crime and chaos."

Harleen laughed slightly as they emerged on the other side of the park, facing the Gotham River. "And do I get to wear a little mask and carry a gun?"

"Naturally," he said, heading to a staircase that went down to a little dock.

She paused for a moment. Could he be serious?

Following him down the stairs, she spotted a green motorboat with a large black question mark on the front.

"If I am trying to hide from Batman, won't it be a little… flashy to be getting into this?"

Nigma hopped in, then turned to her with a shrug. "The Batman is looking for you to be with Joker, not Riddler. I doubt he would look for you with me. Now get in," he said, offering his hand out to help her.

Only considering for a moment the craziness of the situation, Harleen placed her hand in his and let him steady her as she got in.

"Now then," he said, turning on the boat and pulling it away from the dock, "I'll take you to my hideout and we will get you settled in."

Stumbling as they jerked into full power, Harleen managed to get into one of the seats and buckle in.

Briefly she watched Nigma steer, a hand on his head to keep his hat from blowing away. Managing a smile, she turned her gaze to the water.

Swiftly it flew by, still warm from the day yet blue from the depth. Stretching out a hand, Harleen lazily let her finger dip in while lifting her gaze to watch the bright lights of the city whiz by.

It was a cool night. Arkham Island was dark, except for the security beacons and occasional lit window. Passing by, she soon saw the city was illuminated by bright billboards and stars, while along the banks of the river she could make out people walking in groups.

Somehow she did not envy their normal get together, even though she was technically on the run. To her, this was even more thrilling than when Arkham had accepted her as a student.

The boat's motor began to die as Nigma slowed the pace. Taking in her surroundings, Harleen recognized Miller Harbour and looked to him curiously.

"Is this where you are hiding?"

"Hiding?" he asked, looking back at her with a quizzical brow, "No, there is no need for me to hide. Not yet anyways. Here my assailants and I are conveniently living away from the sight of normal folks."

Harleen smiled, getting to her feet as the boat pulled close to a large building.

Nigma pressed a button on the boat's control panel. Very quickly a small door appeared from the building.

Harleen watched as he pulled the boat inside, then once again pressed the button to close the door.

"Conveniently out of sight?" she asked as the boat pulled up to a dock with a burly man ready to tie it up.

Nigma grinned, "Precisely."

After introductions were made to the dozen men who were each dressed in black outfits that bore the insignia of a green question mark on their chest, Harleen was led to the second floor of the old ship builders' warehouse.

The downstairs was rough compared to the top floor. The door they had entered was secret compared to the giant one nearby that had once been used for leading out finished vessels. There was also various tools and machinery left about, along with a half-finished boat hanging from chains.

Up the rickety metal stair case near the front of the building, the top floor seemed to have been completely refurnished.

Shown each room, Harleen admired the relaxation room, which was basically the open landing by the stairs made to look like a bar with billiards, darts, and a large shelf of assorted beers.

Down the hallway was two rooms for the henchmen, then another room filled with toilet and shower stalls for their use.

After that was Nigma's office. The area was filled with odd pictures on one wall, and a long stack of bookshelves on the other. His desk, which was actually two lined together in an L shape, was covered in stacks of papers, as well as a lap top and a few monitors.

"The last room is the gym. I do not really care for physique, but some of the men brought in their own equipment. And here is my room," he said, leaning against the door frame.

Harleen smiled stiffly as she looked at the rooms she knew and then his door. For a moment they stared at each other before she gave a little cough and asked innocently, "Where will I be sleeping?"

"Ah yes, I imagine you would like your own chamber," he said, almost sounding disappointed. Taking a few steps from his door he opened another to reveal a simple bedroom. A small bed sat in the corner next to the window, while a dresser and a desk sat across the room.

"Well if you would just drop off your bag and come to my office, I shall inform you of your duties and get you ready."

Harleen nodded and entered the room. It smelled sweet, as if someone had been burning a type of herbs before she arrived. Curiously looking around, she dropped her bag onto the bed and pulled the drape chain. Outside she could see the water, while down below was just the very edge of the dock.

Satisfied with her investigation, Harleen hurried off to Nigma's office.

Knocking on the door, she pulled it open to find him sitting behind his desk.

Fingers pressed together, he looked up at her with a smile. "I imagine you are curious to what I want you to do."

"Very," she admitted, taking a seat in a chair before him.

"You are basically going to be a… well a henchwoman," he said, rising from his chair. "I want you to do just what the others are doing."

"And that would be?" she asked, raising a brow as she watched him come around his desk.

"Doing exactly as I tell you. Robbing, fighting, fleeing, it is all part of the career."

Harleen frowned as she leaned back in her seat, "Do I get any sort of warning? I've never done anything like this before."

"Of course," he said, placing his hands on the arms of her chair and leaning in close to her face, "You and I will be doing a lot of one on one training."

Not long after her discussion with Nigma, Harleen had changed into her nightwear and climbed into bed. It had been a long day. Her body began to feel exhausted when she realized that the sun was rising.

With assurance from Nigma that she would get used to the switch of sleeping habits, Harleen had said goodnight and left him alone.

Closing her eyes she tried to relax. Not until she was alone to think had something crept into her mind. She was going to be a criminal, out in the open, breaking laws. What if Batman saw her?

The whole point of her hiding with Nigma was to get out of Batman's view, but the first crime she helped commit would put him on her trail.

Rolling onto her back, she lifted her hands into the air to stare at her fingers. Absentmindedly she wiggled them while counting off what possible room they would throw her in at Arkham.

Wait, she thought, sitting up.

She wasn't insane. She was just a regular woman about to get into trouble. Sane people don't go to Arkham, they go to Blackgate Prison.

Physically tired, but mentally awake, Harleen pulled herself out from the bed and left her room. Gently creeping down the hallway she could hear the sound of heavy breathing coming from Nigma's room, as well as snores from the hired thugs chambers.

At the end of the hall, she was surprisingly greeted by the site of four men sitting around a table covered in poker chips and cards.

One of the men; tall, dark, and muscled, looked up from his hand and nodded at her, "Still awake Harl?"

The others glanced up, one near the end tilting his body slightly to the left to see the hand of the man who just talked to her.

"Yeah, can't sleep."

"Well come sit down then," said another of the men who reached out for a chair from another table and set it beside him.

With a nod she came over, suddenly conscious of her raggedy old pyjamas that were decorated in teddy bears.

"I know it was a quick meeting, so let me get you refreshed," said the man who had greeted her earlier, "I'm Hal"

"Knuckles," grunted the large man to her left.

"Marlin," said the skinny man who had grabbed her a chair, "and the runt is Joe."

"I'm not a runt," piped up Joe who was in her opinion, a runt.

"So how'd you join the gang?" asked Hal as he tossed in a chip.

Harleen tilted her head slightly, "Well I am an intern at Arkham, and now Batman is hunting me so Nigma took me in."

The men looked at her in amazement, except Joe who slipped a card from his sleeve into his hand.

"That's quite the tale," said Knuckles as he let out a laugh and banged his fist onto the rickety table.

"Makes sense how you met the boss then," said Hal, leaning back in his seat with a smile, "He definitely fits in with the loons."

"Sh, it's not safe to say that," hissed Joe urgently.

"Ah I don't care"

"Why isn't it safe?" Harleen asked curiously.

"Well," Joe said, his eyes darting from her to the hallway as if Nigma was about to appear, "these crime bosses from Arkham can have, uhm, well, quite the temper."

Marlin rolled his eyes as he brought his elbows heavily onto the table, "Joe, you don't know the half of it. I used to work with Two-Face until he was brought into the slammer. One guy, Twitch, remember Twitch, Hal? Well he got angry. Two-Face had botched a job by flipping that stupid coin of his, which then told him to ditch the job. We had almost finished and would've gotten away with it. Well Twitch, he don't like this see. So he continues on. Figures he can get himself a small fortune before we leave. Two-Face gets mad, everything is about the flip of his coin. So without a second's hesitation he shoots Twitch and leaves."

Harleen raised her brows, gripping onto the edge of her chair with her mouth hanging open slightly.

"That's nothing," said Knuckles, tossing a card onto the pile. "I used to work with Joker. Got away from that guy as soon as I could. The man could find hilarity in just about anything twisted. He once tied a bride and groom to the bumper of his car and drove them down the highway to celebrate their marriage."

Her fingers dug tighter into her chair as she swallowed.

"Hey," said Hal, noticing how she suddenly went pale. "Don't worry about it, Riddler is nothing like those guys."

Nodding she sat back in her seat, "Does Batman know who you guys are?"

Hal looked at her momentarily before returning to his hand, "Nah… well maybe, I dunno. Never thought about it. You see, we wear these costumes and masks, not just to be thugs but also to hide who we are."

"Do you think I will get one too?"

"Course, if you're on the run from Batman, it only makes sense to give you a costume too," said Hal, suddenly fiddling with his pocket and pulling out a black chunk of cloth.

"Try it on," he said, tossing it to her.

Holding the warm cloth, Harleen unfolded the material and tied it around her head. Adjusting the eye holes she looked at the group of men who nodded with approval.

"Looks good," said Knuckles.

"Yeah, Batman won't know who you are," said Marlin, giving her an encouraging smile.

A happy sigh crossed her lips as she fingered the mask around her skull. To her surprise, she realized that hiding here from Batman might actually work.

The next evening Harleen awoke feeling refreshed. However while dressing she realized that not only was she hiding from Batman, but also her internship at Arkham. Guilt made her consider the possibility of going back to her apartment, calling up Mangreaves, and apologizing profusely for missing the day without calling. Yet the idea that returning to her apartment could possibly bring Batman in to interrogate her was frightening.

In the end, she decided just to go find something to eat and ask Nigma about her costume.

Passing by his office, Harleen could hear the quick tapping of a keyboard.

"Edward?" she asked, cautiously opening the door open a crack.

"Ah Harleen, good morning. How did you sleep?" he asked, not once looking up from his monitor as he typed.

"Fairly well, I just have to get used to sleeping in a new bed," she said, stepping into the room and placing her hands on the back of a chair that faced him, "I have a question."

"And it shall be answered."

"Well, I was wondering. The guys have uniforms that hide their identity, and with Batman after me…"

Nigma looked up as her words trailed off, "And you wanted to know if you had a costume?"

She nodded.

A broad smile crossed his lips as he grabbed the mouse, clicked a few times, then stood up from his desk. "Of course you do. I cannot imagine having you run about in common street clothing. No, no. We shall get you a, as you put it, uniform."

"Great, do you need my shirt size? I already have a pair of black pants."

"Actually, I have something entirely different in mind for you," he said, his grin sending shivers down her flesh as she followed him into his room.

Apart from how large it was, Harleen was surprised by the décor. She had expected Riddler to go with his trademark green, but instead the chamber looked rather modern. Dark furniture, black and gray touches, and small patches of white in places.

"This will be your costume," Nigma said, pulling a sheet from a mannequin that sat in the corner.

At first Harleen laughed, thinking this was a joke, but from his deadpan expression she realized he was quite serious.

"It's…it's lovely."

"Yes, I thought so as well."

"Why did you have this ready? I only came here last night."

His expression went blank for a second before he smiled and shrugged, "After you told me Batman was after you, I knew you would eventually need my help. That dog doesn't stop hunting once it has a scent."

Harleen nodded while approaching the model. It seemed Joker was not the only one who liked to play with her name. The figure was dressed as a black and green jester, with green question marks on the thighs and shoulders. Along with a large floppy hat, the figure also wore an eye mask, and fingerless gloves that also bore question marks.

"Go ahead, try it on. It should fit. Don't worry," he quickly added from her curious expression, "it is basically a one size fits all."

"Alright," she mumbled as she grabbed the doll and headed for her room.
"Oh, just go ahead and change in my bathroom. You can use it whenever you like, unless you want to shower in the stalls with the other men."

"I'll take you up on that," she laughed.

Inside the bathroom, Harleen carefully undressed the mannequin and placed its clothes on herself. The whole costume wasn't a bad fit, but she was quite grateful her hips and bust were no large or she felt they would have split the stretchy material.

Finally she emerged, using the pins on the hat to hold it firmly in place on her head, "Do I look alright?"

Nigma rose from his bed, gradually approaching her as his eyes looked over her body. After doing a full circle of her body he finally stopped inches in front of her, "You look lovely."

"Do you think Batman will recognize me?"

"Hmm. I do believe it will be quite difficult for him to see you, especially since he is not looking for you to be running with my crowd. Anyways, let us head out for some breakfast."

"Great, let me go get changed."

"Actually," he said, stopping her from heading back to the bathroom, "Keep it on. We will be going out."

If Nigma had told her earlier that she would be heading into a café in downtown Gotham dressed as a jester, with him in his usual attire, she would have laughed in his face. Yet that was exactly what they were doing.

As they entered the building, the room went quiet, then all at once people began to panic. Customers, waitresses, and cooks went flying out the front doors, leaving just one old man who had fallen asleep at the counter.

"I guess it will be self-serve tonight," said Nigma as he went around the counter and began to help himself to the fridge. "What will it be, apple or blueberry pie?"

"Apple," she laughed, sliding into a booth.

"Excellent choice," he said, placing two helpings of pie on the counter and adding a dollop of whipped cream to each. For a moment he stared at the old man, then proceeded to add a spiral to his head as well. "Much better."

Giggling, Harleen looked out the window, "Do you think the police will come?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, taking a seat with her and beginning his own slice, "They can come but they won't be arresting anyone. I have not committed a single crime."

Harleen propped her chin on her hand and poked her dessert with a fork, "Is it difficult being a criminal?"

"In what way?"

She chewed her lip for a moment, "Well. You once told me that the goal was not to be one of the citizens again, but to be freed and go back to your everyday life. Don't you miss talking to regular people?"

Nigma smiled, "I talk to regular people every day. The men back at the base, you, and those I have held hostage."

Harleen stared at him blankly before gathering the whipped cream on her fork and flicking it at him with a chuckle.

"Why you," he chuckled, gathering up what was left from his plate as she slid from the booth to hide.

Suddenly it was dark. All the power to the building died one second, and the next Nigma had her hand and they were running to the backdoor.
"Nigma," growled a voice before they could get through the kitchen.

Harleen bumped into him as he suddenly stopped, his face looking into the shadows. "Ah, Batman. I see you've come for a visit."

"What're you up to?" growled the darkness.

"My friend and I were just enjoying a bit of dessert. No crime in that."

From the shadows emerged something tall, muscular, and menacing. Inching behind Nigma in fear, Harleen watched over his shoulder as Batman approached. "Did you think I would ignore the fact that dozens of people have reported you robbing a café?"

Nigma lifted his chin indignantly, "I was not robbing the place. They all just ran out before taking my order. Actually quite rude now that I think about it."

Batman leered forward, seeming twice as big then when she saw him at Arkham. "I'm watching you Nigma."

"Good. Then you can watch me leave," he said defiantly while dragging Harleen out the back door with him.

Out in the alley the two bolted. Neither talking, both just putting distance between them and the café. Finally they stopped running Robinson Park came into view.

Gasping for breath the two looked at each other and began to laugh.

"I thought I was in trouble for sure," she gasped as they walked through the park.

"I must admit, I felt the same," he chuckled, "At least we know the costume definitely works."

"Could he really not do anything to you?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back as people in the park began to run.

"Of course not. It is not my fault that these fools became frightened. It was not like I was brandishing a pistol at them."

Harleen shrugged, "Yeah. That's not really your style though."

"Now that we know your identity is safe, I would say it is time we got you up to date on how to be a criminal."

The next few days passed by in a blur. There really was not much for her to learn, since much of it was as he had described, on the job knowledge. There was just a few things he wanted her to be available to do; such as fire a weapon and defend herself in hand-to-hand combat.

Utilizing some of the moves she had practised from gymnastics, Harleen's flexibility made her a difficult target to attack. Her experience with guns though was quite lacking. Each time she pulled the trigger she flinched, causing the bullet to miss her target completely, and once ricochet off the half-finished boat and scare Joe.

By the end of the week, Enigma declared she was ready and placed a set of plans down on a table for everyone to see.

"Okay gentlemen, and lady, we are going to be robbing the art museum."

"Art museum?" Harleen asked curiously.

"Yes. Just recently they accepted a new piece that a man is willing to pay a large fortune to whomever fetches it for him."

The men around her nodded with satisfaction and leaned into see what Nigma had written.

"We will be divided into two teams. You six and Harleen will go for the picture. You six and I will disable the defences and keep a look out for any trouble."

"Like Batman," growled Knuckles.

"Exactly. This is only phase one though. In a few days we shall also be going after this winery. They currently have a bottle of a wine that is worth more than Wayne Manor, but it will be more difficult with the heat from this night, so only a couple of us will be going."

"Who?" she asked.

"We will see," he said as he began to roll up the papers. "Now everyone, you have your roles. Pack up and move out."

"What're we supposed to do now," Harleen whispered to Hal in the darkness.

They had been waiting in the dark art gallery for almost ten minutes with no word on movement. Nigma's team had taken off for look-out and disabling duty, but the men she was with were standing around.

"Don't worry," Hal whispered back, "When everything is ready for us to make our move we will be signaled."

"I don't even know which painting we are looking for though."

Marlin chucked behind her, "Neither do we. When it comes time for taking that, Nigma will appear to do it."

Harleen nodded and continued to stare into the dark. After fidgeting with her gloves for a minute, she looked back to Hal, "What are we doing if we don't get the painting?"

"We're basically back-up," he said. "It is likely we may be interrupted during out robbery, so we are the brute muscle."

"Oh…oh!" she gasped, realizing Nigma meant her to fight.

"Harl, where is your gun?" Hal suddenly asked.

"I left it in the car, I'm no good with it."

"You really shouldn't have- oh, there's the signal," he said as a green light began the blink on all the men's wrists.

Following the group deeper into the museum they soon caught up with Nigma.

"You go get the vehicle ready, the rest of you follow me."

Doing as instructed, Harleen crept after Nigma. The building seemed to echo their every footstep, making her wonder how anybody outside could not hear them. Finally they reached a room that had been roped off as special.

Nigma pushed aside the barrier and approached the painting and pulled it down from its display.

"Riddler," shouted a familiar voice, "What do you think you're doing with my painting?"

Harleen began to shake with fear. Slowly she turned in the direction of the voice and found that they were facing Joker and his men.

"Your painting?" growled Nigma as he handed the frame over to Hal and stomped towards the clown. "I will have you know this painting is mine. I have done all the work to get it and I shall be the one to sell it."

"Oh really?" laughed Joker, as he pulled a gun from his pocket. "I don't think you will be able to do much about me taking it. You have what, five guys with you" he said, looking away from Nigma and counting them off with his pistol. For a moment his eyes lingered on her. She could see a brow raise just slightly before glaring at Riddler.

"I'm not an idiot. I have more than enough men to take you on."

Harleen shuffled behind Hal, opting to stare at his back than let Joker look at her once more.

"I'm frightened, now hand over the painting," Joker growled fiercely.

For a moment Harleen thought Riddler would once again refuse, but in the end she heard him sigh and instruct Hal to give it over.

Suddenly exposed to Joker's line of sight once more, she froze and began to fidget with her glove.

"Very good," laughed the clown, suddenly happy as he lifted the pistol and aimed straight for Nigma's head. "Nighty night."

Harleen screamed as Joker pulled the trigger. A loud pop emitted from the barrel and a single cork flew out and bounced against Nigma's skull.

Once more Joker looked at her, then began his insane laughter at leaving them empty handed while leading his men out the gallery.

"That could have gone better," he muttered as he realigned his hat and approached the group. "Alright men, this may have gone badly, but we are still here and can grab something. Everyone grab a painting and we will head back to base."

Nigma then pressed a button on his watch, causing all the men's wrists to start blinking red. After each of them, including Harleen, snatched a painting, they soon met up with the rest of the men at the vehicles.

"What happened?" asked Joe as he looked at the half dozen pictures.

"Joker," growled Hal.

Once the group returned to their hideout, Nigma instructed everyone to leave the paintings on the lower floor. Harleen, feeling nervous after Joker had stared at her so intently, paced before the paintings. They were all quite lovely, but each of them seemed to remind her of the clown.

Had he recognized her?

Did it really matter, she thought as she stared at a painting containing a couple dancing in a garden. It was not like he was looking for her, and Batman was the only one she was actually hiding from.

"Night Harl," called Hal as he and the others climbed the stairs.

"Night guys," she called back.

Over the past few days she had really enjoyed getting to know the guys. In truth, she thought they would all be a bunch of creepy thugs who she would lock herself away from. Apart from Joe, they all seemed quite decent.

"Harleen, you look distraught," cooed Nigma as he sauntered towards her. "Do not worry, these paintings may not be the same value as that one, but we will still get something for them."

"It's not that," she whispered urgently, "it's Joker."

"What about him?"

"He saw me. He looked right at me. I know he's not a threat like Batman, but still…"

"Ah," laughed Nigma, you seem to have forgotten something."

She looked at him quizzically.

"You are in a costume. A rather good one in fact."

"True," she mumbled, looking down at her feet.

"Do you really think he will distinguish you in such a get-up? Every day he has seen you in lab coat and skirt, this is quite different."

With a smile, Harleen nodded a little more confidently. "Yeah, you're right!"

"Besides, it is not like Joker has ever seen you in a skin tight costume with mask. You're not Batgirl," he laughed before waving goodnight and heading for the stairs.

Harleen let out a shaky breath as she gradually sunk to her knees.

The Zorro costume.

How could she completely have forgotten about it. It wasn't that long ago that she was straddling Joker's hips in a costume much like this one. Of course he recognized her.

Bringing her hands to her face, she pressed on her warming cheeks while staring blankly at the ground.

How could she have been a fool?

The only thing now though was, did he care.

She blinked as if regaining her mind. Would he actually care that she was running around with Nigma's gang. It was not like he had actually come for her. Though from what she knew and had heard of him, it was not impossible that he would just come and kill her instead for the fun of it.

That day, Harleen slept terribly. It seemed each dream she had was plagued with some way Joker would murder her, and sadly none of them were a simple gun to the head. Each dream had a particularly nasty scenario that left her drenched in sweat when she awoke.

Finally, when she could sleep no more, she headed for Nigma's room for a long shower.

"Hello?" she called as she opened his door.

The room was empty and his bed was made. It seemed he was already up and about.

Locking the bathroom door behind her, she quickly stripped and hopped into the warm shower. It felt like it had been days since she had last felt the relaxing sensation of hot water on her skin.

Harleen let out a happy moan and rested her shoulder back on the cool tiles.

Hopefully the next few days would be more successful than last night. It wasn't likely Joker would intervene on two of their robberies in less than a week, but it still had her worried.

Dousing her hair in shampoo, she scrubbed away and begin to rinse when she noticed something odd.

On the shower head was a strange looking gizmo that was quite small and easy to miss. She wouldn't have seen it if it wasn't for the fact she had been looking right up.

Curiously she stretched out her hand and grabbed the device for a better inspection. Turn the metal pieces over and over she suddenly heard a click.

"No," she mumbled, bringing it up to her eyes to look at the front. "It's a fucking camera!"

Throwing it down into the tub she brought up her heel and painfully smashed it to pieces.

Moments later she was dry, dressed, and pissed.

"Nigma!" she shrieked, throwing his office door open so hard it crashed into the wall.

"Ah Harleen," he said, cowering just slightly in his chair.

"What the hell was that in the shower?" she growled, advancing towards him.

"You mean my security camera?" he asked as he jumped up from his chair to keep distance between the two.

"Security camera? Why the hell would you need a security camera?" she growled, pacing around the desk after him.

"Well you see," he stammered, hurrying to the other side, "I need protection-"
"Oh my god", she screamed, her eyes suddenly spotting the images on his monitors. All across the screens she could see images of herself naked in the shower, the last one of her glaring down at it before the feed stopped. "You're a peeping pervert!"

"Now Harleen."

"I trusted you!" she growled.

"Look Harleen."

"Why did you do this?" she continued to shout as she cornered him.

"Look," he said, reaching out and grabbing her wrists before she could slug him. "I like you."

"What?" she whispered, seizing to pull against his surprisingly strong grip.

"Ever since you solved my riddle, I started to take a liking to you," he whispered, pulling her close so his body pressed into hers.

"You're very intelligent and beautiful, how could I not have fallen for you?" he continued, releasing her wrists and wrapping his arms around her body.

"But…but Joker" she mumbled as he lowered his face to her ear and nibbled.

"You're too good for him," he whispered, bringing a hand down to squeeze her bottom while the other began to knead her breast.

Harleen let out a soft moan, pressing herself tighter to his body where she could feel his firm member.

Nigma slowly moved away from her bottom and trailed his fingers into her pants, gently caressing her bottom as he slid down to her hot moist sex.

Urgently he pulled her up, letting Harleen wrap her arms and legs around him as he got a better reach and began to caress her lower lips.

"Edward," she gasped, arching against him as the tips of his fingers teasingly prodded inside her.

"Call me Riddler," he growled huskily into her ear as he suddenly pushed his fingers deep inside.

"Riddler!" she shouted, her cheeks flushing pink as she started to buck her hips against his hand, trying to take him in deeper while him thumb caressed her sensitive bud.

A flash of Joker's smile and laugh rang through her mind.

Staring at Nigma in horror she began to struggle in his grip until he finally let her down.

"What's the matter?" he asked irritably.
"I…I can't do this," she whispered, before pushing him aside and running for the stairs.

Hurrying down, Harleen rushed across the warehouse and crashed through the front doors.

Once outside in the humid rain soaked night, she stopped to think.

What was that all about? Why was he suddenly advancing on her when she knew she was in love with Joker? Well she couldn't go back, at least not at this moment.

With a frustrated sigh, she dug her hands into her already soaked jean pockets and began to make her way across the dock.

The only place she could possibly go right now was back to her apartment.

Hopefully with the weather and her absence the past few days, Batman would not be watching for her and she would have some place dry to hole up in until she felt she could return to Nigma.

A shudder went through her body.

Somehow, now that she was out of his arms, she felt dirty and sick.

Lust had taken over and let his hands roam her body. She blamed loneliness on her decision, but still she felt disgusted.

Reaching the main road Harleen checked her pockets for change. Only finding enough for a bus ticket, she miserably sat in the bus shelter until one came along to take her home.

After an hour she was finally climbing the stairs to her building. She amusedly wondered how spoiled the food had become in her absence while shivering in her wet clothing.

Reaching her floor she heard a loud crash and the lights flickered out.

"Well now it will really rot," she muttered as the emergency lights came on.

Finally at her door she reached into her pockets and sighed.

No keys.

How could she not have thought of that earlier? Of course she wouldn't have her keys if she just rushed out the building.

Frustrated, she slammed her fist into the door, which to her shock, opened. Cautiously entering the room she flicked on the light switch and groaned.

"I'm a genius," she muttered sarcastically, feeling her way through the dark to go sit on the sofa.

Fidgeting with the cushion, Harleen reached beneath herself and pulled out her dying cellphone.

"Whoa," she whispered as she saw the amount of missed calls.

A crash of lightening outside made her jump.

Getting to her feet, Harleen curiously looked over the list of missed call numbers.

Many of them were her mother and work, both probably leaving countless messages about her disappearance. Well there was no way she could phone them now. Telling them she was hiding from Batman would not be the best idea.

"Wait… who's this?" she mumbled, looking over a number that had phoned at least thirty times the past few days. For a few minutes she stared at the number, wracking her brain for any connection, yet she couldn't think of any.

Another crash of lightening made her look up and go numb.

Staring in utter distress at the window, she tightened her grip on the phone and began to move.

She couldn't have seen it. No, it wasn't possible.

Feet from the window she stopped. Her breath rapid, skin soaked in sweat, and body still with panic.

Another crash of lightening confirmed her fears.

Pulling back the drapes, Harleen read the large red letters on the glass of her window.

WHERE ARE YOU?

Letting out a scream, she jumped as her phone began to vibrate in her hand.

Switching it on, she brought it to her ear, "Hello?"

"WHERE ARE YOU?" shouted the angry voice of Joker.

Hand shaking fiercely she felt a scream of terror catch in her throat before dropping the phone as if Joker was about to crawl out.

Dashing for the door she could hear his laughter echoing ferociously through her apartment.

He had returned and was pissed not to find her. Her suspicions were true.

Joker had come to kill.

Returning to Nigma's was less awkward then she thought. Harleen expected him to yell at her and perhaps kick her out, but in the end he just sat brooding in his office while she chatted with the rest of the guys.

The day before their next job, Hal and Knuckles drilled Harleen in firing her weapon. Before she did so poorly since she had no real interest in shooting. Now though, with her life was in danger, she did her best and significantly improved.

By the end of the day she was able to at least hit the target, sometimes even in the right spot.

On the night of the heist, Harleen traced her finger along the metal barrel of her gun and listened to Nigma's instructions. He had somewhat warmed back up to her. He may not have been happy about her declining his affection, but he seemed to be working on getting her to feel the same about him.

Harleen looked up. The flower van they were all stuffed into contained Hal, Marlin, Nigma and herself in the back while Joe drove.

"You two," he said, pointing at Hal and Joe, "will keep an eye on the door. I want the rest of you to keep an eye on the perimeter. It is unlikely we will have anyone else to compete with to get the bottle, but I don't want to risk Batman jumping in."

As the vehicle slowed, Joe looked backed nervously, "Uh, boss, isn't this place pretty close to the G.C.P.D?"

Nigma tutted, "They wouldn't expect a robbery to go on right under their noses."

Joe didn't look convinced, but parked the vehicle nonetheless near the winery delivery dock.

Quickly everyone filed out the van and headed for the door. With a click of his cane, Nigma had the door swiftly unlocked and they were all filing in to the dully lit work room.

"Alright, you all know your job so go do it. Look for my signal to return to the van."

With that they all began to disappear. Nigma towards the store area of the building, and everyone else to keep an eye out for trouble.

"Who would pay a fortune for a bottle of wine?" Harleen whispered to Joe as they crept along the hall.

"We're not selling it."

"What? What are we doing with it then?" she asked.

She heard him let out a snort, "I'm just kidding. I have no idea which rich stiff is going to pay for it, but they get it much cheaper with robbery than honesty."

Silently they crept through the dimly lit hall, listening intently for any trouble. Coming to a split they both looked at each other with a nod and parted ways.

After she could no longer hear his footsteps Harleen looked back to where he vanished. Surprisingly, a simple winery could become creepy without the usual fluorescent lightening to guide her way.

Coming across a room she took a peek inside, only to find an exit and a stack of wooden skids piled near the door.

How big was this place she wondered as she came across another room that she assumed to be an employee lounge.

"This is taking way too long," she mumbled beneath her breath. It had felt like an eternity since she had split off from Joe, and yet she had not come across anyone else.

Worry began to build in her mind. Could Batman already be picking them off one-by-one?

Harleen shook her head, regaining her senses as she heard movement coming from a nearby room.

"Thank goodness," she laughed, opening the door to peer inside.

"Who are you?" growled a middle age man, dressed in a security uniform.

"Shit."

Slamming the door shut, Harleen took off down the hall. Rounding the corner she heard the door fly open and the man's heavy shoes following quickly behind her.

"Get back here!" he demanded.

"Not likely," she yelled, looking back to see him pull out what she assumed to be a gun.

Trying to take as many turns possible, she could hear the man keep even with her pace. The jangle of keys on his belt echoing through the halls behind her.

"Edward!" she shouted, spotting him with a bottle carefully cradled in his arm.

"Harleen?" he asked baffled as she ran into him and grabbed his arm.

"Alert the others, we've got to go," she hissed, trying to drag him with her as she saw the guard hurry down the hall.

"What?" he asked, looking to the security guard and back to her. "Just shoot him."
"No, no. We can just run."

Nigma let out a frustrated growl.

Snatching the gun from her hand he lifted it to the man's chest just as he got close and pulled the trigger.

Harleen stared in shock as the security guard let out a gargle. Blood began to soak the front of his shirt as he clutched his chest and fell to the floor.

"You… you shot him," she whispered, inching away from the body which was now beginning to pool blood.

"It was your own fault. You should have shot him yourself. I can't believe you made such a big fuss," he sighed.

"I will never kill anyone over something as stupid as a- as a bottle of wine!" she shouted. Whirling around to face him, Harleen snatched the bottle from his arms and raised it in the air.

"Don't you dare!" he screamed.

With a defiant glare she flung her arm down, sending the bottle crashing to the ground in an explosion of glass.

"You little bitch," he growled, stalking forward with his hand raised.

Unexpectedly the building went quiet. Everything dead, including the lights.

Instantly Nigma was into action, pressing a button on his wrist which began to blink purple.
"Time to go Harleen, Batman is here."

"You've got that right Nigma," growled a voice from behind the man.

Spinning around, Harleen took off down the hall just in time to hear a fist collide and the steps of everyone else coming to join the fight.

"Shit, shit, shit."

It was dark, she had no idea where she was or even how to get out, and Batman would be taking her to jail possibly for murder.

Feeling blind as she held her hands out to steady herself, she felt the smooth texture of the wall which would occasionally disappear for a doorway.

Finally down the hall she found a room with the faintest hint of illumination. Hurrying her pace, she let out a relieved sigh as she found the employee lounge from earlier which currently had an emergency nightlight glowing

"And that means," she mumbled, trying to direct herself back in the dark, "the exit is down here."

In the direction she came she could hear the shouts of the others. A tinge of guilt made her cringe as she realized that they would not be returning to the warehouse. Of course Nigma would be there soon, with either an escape from Arkham or an early release.

But Hal, Joe, Marlin.

"Sorry guys," she whispered as she slid along the wall. Finally her hand entered the empty space of where the back was.

Listening intently for any noise, Harleen realized that Batman must have still been dealing with the goons, or maybe he was ignoring her.

"Wouldn't be the first man to lately," she muttered as her hands fumbled in the small room. Abruptly she heard a swift noise behind her and felt a silky gloved hand to her throat. Shuddering beneath the tight grip, she attempted to swallow as her body was pulled against the firm chest of another.

"Found you, Harley," laughed the vicious voice of Joker, his warm breath at her ear.

"No," she gasped, choking herself slightly as she struggled within his grip.

"I don't think so," he said, holding onto her tightly, "You and I have a little fun to catch up on."

The wretched stench of chloroform filled her lungs. Harleen began to panic, she knew if she kept breathing this rapidly she would pass-out, but it was too hard to calm down at this moment with death at her back.

Flailing against his body, she brought back her elbow, sending it weakly into his gut as that world started to turn black and she fainted in his arms.

Harleen slowly began to blink awake, the after taste of the toxin causing her to shudder.

Pulling herself fully alert, she looked down to realize she was sitting in a chair with a rope tied around her midsection, keeping her elbows tight to her sides.

"Doll face, good to see you're awake," cooed Joker's voice from behind her.

Slowly she heard his steps approach from behind, her body stiffening in fear of what he may do. A gun, a knife, a crowbar?

Turning her head she saw him come round her with a grin. His purple suit crisp, shoes shined, and green locks of hair handsomely styled. Looking down at his gloved hands, she realized he was carrying a large glass water sprayer.

"I imagine you're quite thirsty," he said holding up the water. His features darkened as he growled, "I know I was."

Harleen gasped as he squeezed the nozzle, spraying cold water into her face as his harsh laughter echoed in the large room.

Managing a few gulps of the liquid before it ran dry, Harleen sputtered as he put the empty container on the ground and carelessly kicked it away.

"What are you going to do to me?" she nervously asked, completely soaked and shivering in her seat.

Joker looked her over momentarily, for once silent, before casually walking towards her with his hands in his pocket. "Never thought about that. I could just kill you, like I do to most other competition thugs"

Harleen's eyes widened.

Sensing her fear, Joker grinned maliciously and leaned in, staring her dead in the eye, "Sometimes I dip them slowly in acid so I can listen to the beautiful music of their screams."

Sliding a hand from his pocket, Joker traced a single finger down from her chin to between her wet bosoms, "Or I could let my men have a little fun with you. They can be pretty rough."

Horrified, Harleen tried to sink back in the wooden chair, avoiding his touch.

At her reaction, Joker began to laugh. The sound causing her to cringe as she imagined the horrors that awaited her.

"So what should I do to Riddler's girl," he finally mused.

"I'm not his girl," she spat, looking up at him venomously.

"Oh?"

"No! And maybe if you had come for me, I wouldn't have had to join up with him!"

"I did come," he sneered, standing upright with his arms folded, "Did you not get my message?"

"Yeah," she growled, "Six months too late."

He snatched her chin, forcing her to look him straight in the face as he leaned in. Breath hot against her face, he growled, "Doesn't mean you put on the suit of another man, especially one so," he grimaced as he looked down with a look of disgust, "serious."

Harleen huffed, ready to berate him with everything that had happened to her these past few weeks when surprisingly she found his mouth on hers.

Stifling a happy sigh, she momentarily tasted his delicious mouth before viciously biting his lower lip. Blood seeped onto her tongue as he quickly yanked away.

Joker reached up, touching the wounded spot that dribbled red down his chin, soaking his silky white gloves. A sadistic grin began to widen on his lips as he looked her in the eyes and wiped away the blood with the back of his hand.

Without a word he stormed over to the wall nearby and grabbed a rope hanging from the ceiling. Baffled for a moment, Harleen looked up and realized she was attached to a pulley only seconds before he gave a great heave and she zipped upwards.

Harleen stretched her legs, uselessly trying to get her toes to touch the ground while the ropes around her squeezed against her stomach painfully.

The sound of a click made her raise her face. Joker slowly approached, his head tilted to one side as he eyed her up and down, his one hand pocketed and the other fumbling with a knife.

Clenching her teeth, Harleen stared furiously at the distance between them before lashing out her leg at his chest. His hand swiftly caught her foot, slowly he closed the distance between them, his hand sliding along her before their chests met.

Harleen's breath exhaled roughly from her lips as she stared first into his menacing eyes, and then at the blade.

"Don't," she whimpered, watching him bring it closer to her body.

"Do what?" he asked mockingly, bringing the tip of the blade to her right breast.

Before she could let out another plea, Joker quickly released her leg, pinched the nipple of her costume and slashing the blade across her breast.

For a second Harleen could not breathe, her mind racing that any moment now she would feel the excruciating pain and see the blood pouring from her. Yet when she opened her eyes, the only sight she saw was her costume ripped open and her black bra exposed to his leering eyes.

"You creep," she shrieked as she felt his hand grab her knee to hold her steady on the rope.

Joker laughed, admiring the blade for just a moment before moving it slowly back towards her chest. Carefully he slipped the knife under one of her straps, cutting it away so one side of her bra sagged down just slightly.

"Stop," she demanded, watching him repeat the process on the other side.

Harleen felt her face growing hot. Each movement he took was slowly revealing her flesh to him, the skin he had already seen, and yet she was growing flustered at the thought of him looking at her once more.

She winced as he pressed the knife to her stomach, letting the tip point upwards.

Teasingly his tongue slipped out and licked his wide mouth, his eyes glaring into hers as the blade began to ascend.

Up it went under her bra, climbing just a bit higher until he began to pull the blade towards himself and turn the handle so the edge would not touch her skin.

"Stop, no, please," she begged.

"Harley, Harley, Harley. Do you think I am such a cruel man that I would reveal your breasts without your permission?"

"Yes," she squeaked, looking at him hopefully.

"Oh- well then you would be right," he laughed, tugging the blade hard and cutting through the bra.

She let out a pathetic peep as she felt the cups slowly peel from her hot skin and let her round excited breasts bounce into view.

His smiled widened further as he pressed the face of the blade to the underside of her left breast, lifting it just slightly to admire. "Ah, I see my mark did not disappear," he mused, eyeing the scar his teeth had left on her when she had attacked him in the warehouse.

Pulling her leg tighter to his side, he rested his head down against her bosoms, his stale breath making her shiver while he moved his armed hand between her thighs.

Swallowing nervously, she felt him press the edge of the blade against her bottom, then gradually pull it forward, the sound of material ripping open making her stiffen nervously.

As he finished, she felt a cool breeze against her lower body, causing her to shiver while she watched him back away with her leg in hand to expose her completely.

"Hmm yes, yes, but still too much clothing," he pondered, tapping the knife to his chin as he released her leg and circled around her. "Something must be done about that."

Gravity suddenly pulled her back to earth as he sliced the rope above her. Catching herself, Harleen lashed a kick in his direction. Repeatedly she jumped, attempting to land her foot into his gut while keeping her balance with her arms awkwardly bound. Each kick he dodged, his skinny frame weaving from side to side as he giggled at her failed attacks.

"Get back here you creep!" she screamed infuriated, her cheeks still rosy as she felt the cool air brush against her exposed skin.

Joker blocked a kick, sending her leg to one side and quickly pulling himself right in front of her to grab onto her bindings.

"Why are you doing this?" she growled, glaring up into his pale face.

He grinned, bringing in his face close to her ear, "Revenge. It was me who tipped off Batman that Riddler would be there tonight. Usually I wouldn't go so low, but it was the only way I was going to get you away from him."

Harleen suddenly heard the click of his knife and felt the bindings on her loosen. About to struggle, she gasped as he knocked her legs out from under her and hit the floor hard. He was then on top of her, hands pinning hers to the ground and body between her thighs.

"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered.

"The same thing you did to me," he growled.

Harleen paused for a moment, trying to think of what she could have possibly done to him, though it didn't take her long to realize what he was talking about.

She snickered.

Joker cocked his head, narrowing his eyes.

His expression made her snicker more, then giggle and eventually break out into a loud laughter.

"Stop laughing," he demanded, releasing one of her wrists to instead wrap his fingers around her throat.

Even as he choked her, Harleen still let out a gurgled giggled until even his own face lit up into a surprising smile.

"That is what you're made about?" she gasped, struggling for breath.

Joker released her, holding himself above her by bracing his hands on the floor on either side of her head, "Of course it is, I told you no one gets away with attacking the Joker."

"Oh puddin'," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull his face closer, "You can have this kind of revenge on me any day."

"Harley baby, you're a one in a million kind of gal."

"Yeah, I guess I am," she giggled before he brought his head down farther to capture her mouth with his own.

Moaning with delight, Harleen shivered as his tongue forced its way into her mouth, rubbing alongside her own while one of his began to caress the sensitive exposed flesh between her thighs.

Brushing her fingers through his soft locks of green hair, Harleen gazed into his handsome face, her heart racing just at the idea that she was once again with Mistah J.

Just as she thought he was going to keep going, he suddenly broke their kiss and gazed down at her with a large grin, "Wait, I have something even better to show you."

"Even better than that?" she asked, pointing at his groin as he got to his feet.

Joker grinned wider before taking off to where he had left the water sprayer.

Finally looking around, Harleen realized they must have been in an abandoned club, there was a stage near Joker, and the rest of the area was packed with broken tables and chairs, along with a bar near what she presumed was the front doors.

"Here is your new and improved, Harley Quinn outfit," he said.

Looking over to him, Harleen was surprised to find him holding an outfit that was almost identical to the one she was wearing, except red and with diamonds instead of green and question marks.

"Oh Mistah J, it looks great," she squealed, hoping to her feet and hurrying over to take a look.

Tracing her fingers down the material, Harleen admired the spandex cloth and beautiful red colouring.

"Now put it on, we've got to get going."

Minutes later Harleen felt like she had pulled on a fresh pair of comfy pajamas, the outfit just seemed so right for her. He had even provided her with a purse to go along with it, filled with deadly Joker gag weapons, and a few pistols; only one shot actual bullets. Joker had even pulled out white powder, letting her become more of his clown with the colouring. The only problem at the moment was she had no bra or underwear to go along with it.

"Mistah J, you can see everything," she whispered, her nipples protruding against the material even in their softened state, and the cloth growing wet between her thighs in her still excited state.

"I know," he growled, coming up behind, placing a hand on her stomach while the other cupped her large breast, "You should keep it this way."

Abruptly there was a crash of wood at the front of the building, causing both Harleen and Joker to jump in surprise.

"Woops, time to go Harley dear," Joker laughed.

"Nowhere to run Joker," said a voice behind them.

Whipping around, Harleen found herself facing a young policeman with a gun trained on Joker.

"Snuck in the back I see," grumbled Joker.

"Put your hands up," shouted the man.

Harleen stared at the scene while listening to the sound of the doors at the entrance to the room be rammed by a body as the person tried to break the plywood keeping it blocked.

"Now why would I do that," laughed the clown.

Nervously, Harleen moved her hand into her purse. This couldn't be happening now. After all the months she waited, he was going to be taken away from her, or even worse, killed.

It seemed the officer had no interest in her, his eyes were focussed on Joker while his gun shook slightly.

"If you don't do as I say, I'll shoot," yelled the dark haired man.

Harleen's finger found the gun with the notch, the one Joker had said was a fake. Drawing it out, she quickly aimed it at the police officer. "No, you do as I say or I'll shoot."

The man looked at her for a second before moving his weapon to aim for her. Before he could even move an inch though, she pulled the trigger in hopes to scare him.

To her dismay, the gun let off an explosion and blood splattered onto her face and body.

"Ma-ma-Mistah J, you said this wasn't real," she whispered as she watched the policeman fall down dead.

"Did I?" mused Joker, taking the weapon from her hand to admire it, "Hm, my bad."

Harleen's gloved fingers touched her face, smudging the red blood against her skin as she stared wide eyed at the dead man.

Joker seemed to take notice of her silence. Hands in his pockets, he took a couple of steps to stand in front of her with his head tilted. "Harley?"

"He's dead."

"Yes?"

Harley let out a breathy laugh before her lips spread wide, something inside her mind seemed to have snapped at the idea of killing someone so easily, just with a bang.

"He's dead," she repeated through a mouthful of laughter, her sides hurting as she dragged her fingers down her cheek, marking four long red lines down her face.

Joker grinned and began to laugh as well, enjoying the merriment of her crazy, until the front doors finally broke and he took off out the back exit.

Still laughing, Harley watched as the Dark Knight rushed down the floor.

For a moment he looked at the dead guard, then back at her large grin as she stared at him.

"Where's Joker?" he growled menacingly, grabbing her arm and pulling her close.

Harley continued to smile, her new hat falling off her head and hitting the ground from the sudden lurch.

"Dr. Quinzel?" he said, his grip loosening for just a moment before squeezing again. "People have been looking for you! Your mother, Arkham, where have you been?"

Harleen tilted her head, "You too, B-man?"

"Of course, I have been looking for you since you were reported missing by Dr. Mangreaves."

Harley cocked a confused brow.

"Tell me where Joker is," he said urgently, "and I'll make sure you get some help."

"Oh no," she said crossly, "I'm not turning in Mistah J so you can just beat him to a pulp again."

"Why are you defending that wacko? He has killed hundreds of people, all in the name of a joke."

She smiled and shrugged, "He gets me."

"Well I'm getting you now," he growled, pulling her towards the front doors, "to Arkham."

Harley sat quietly in her cell. It seemed in the few days that she had been gone, Dr. Mangreaves had decided that metal doors would no longer be acceptable for the inmates, instead, they would now be behind thick panes of bullet-proof glass.

In her new room, which had previously been Crane's cell, Harley laid back on the bunk and stared up at the stone ceiling.

They had labelled her a loon, and for what, falling in love with a man who completely understood her. It was not her fault that society was so set on everyone having to be normal that the idea of her falling in love with an insane killer was considered crazy.

Stretching her arms above her, Harley laced her fingers together and rested them behind her head.

Being in here was completely worth the hassle though. She was now back with Joker, and this time he would definitely look for her again when she came free.

The only thing she was confused about was who the Batman outside her window was.

Fidgeting on her cot, she sighed a little. The only problem was this light blue uniform they made her wear. The cotton was too stiff, and the material didn't breathe. She yearned to once again pull on the spandex and powder her face white beneath the black mask.

Who cared what the public said, who cared if Batman thought she was now a loon because of Joker, she was now free to be herself.

Harley looked towards her glass door as the Arkham alarm rang, echoing through the rooms and down the corridors.

A dark figure hurried to her cell, momentarily busy before the glass groaned and began to pull away from the ground.

In the light the figure emerged, revealing a purple suited grinning clown.

"Ready pumpkin pie?"

"Ready puddin" she squealed.