I tug the hem of my dress down for the thousandth time. It really isn't that short, but I feel too... exposed. The four inch heels I'm wearing don't help, either. But Mom insisted tonight was a formal occasion, so the dress and shoes are necessary.
Mom is hosting the hospital Christmas party this year, and ordered me to make an appearance. Ever since I moved out of home I don't really see her often enough, so I figured one night of dressing up couldn't hurt.
Of course, I was having very different thoughts now.
The living room is packed full of people I don't know, so I'm standing awkwardly in the corner, trying to find someone I recognise.
"Belle! Hey, I didn't see you come in." A man smiles at me warmly, and pulls me in for a hug.
"Hey Brett. I only just got here. How are you?"
"Good, good. Keeping busy. Your Mom's had me helping her in the kitchen for the last two days." He laughs. Brett is Mom's new boyfriend. Not really new anymore, I guess. They've been together for eleven or so months now. He's a doctor in the children's ward at the hospital and he's pretty cool.
"She would have been panicking about this for weeks now I bet."
"You know your Mom." He sighs, smiling.
"Speaking of, where is she?" I ask, looking through the crowd again.
"She's mingling in there somewhere. I think I saw her with some people over by the fireplace earlier."
"Right. I'll go see if I can find her then." I make my way through the crowd, only stepping on two people's feet when they wouldn't move. Eventually I spot Mom chatting with a young blonde woman.
"Hey!" I greet her.
"Belle! You made it!" She gives me a big hug. "Sweetie I want you to meet my friend from work, Harleen. She's a psychiatrist. " I look over to the blonde woman standing next to Mom and almost faint.
It's Harley freakin' Quinn.
"Belle, is it? Nice to meet you." She says, holding out her hand. "Call me Harley, everyone does."
"Nice to meet you." I say stiffly. I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Harley can't be here, can she?
"I'll leave you two alone for a moment, I think Brett needs help over there." She says and I look over to see Brett struggling with a tray of drinks. I wait for Mom to get out of earshot before turning back to Harley.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demand.
"Just come for the party, like everyone else." She shrugs.
"That's not what I meant and you know it. Why are you in my house?"
"Didn't you hear? I'm friends with your mama now." She smirks.
"You need to leave. Get out. And whatever you're planning, it stops." I say, trying my best to sound threatening. Harley just laughs.
"Not so scary without Riddler to back you up, are you?" She smiles. "I think I might stick around for a while."
"Harley I swear to God, leave. Or I'll make you leave."
"Oh, you'll make me?"
"Yep. Just like I made Joker leave." Harley's eyes narrow and she sneers at me. I take a step back. That might have been over the line.
"I'll leave. After I pay you back." She says.
"Pay me back?"
"You killed someone I love, so I'm gonna kill everyone you love." She snarls. Before I can think of a response she stalks away.
This is not good. This is so not good.
I've pissed off Harley Quinn. Again.
I remember seeing her the first time, following her, but then Riddler showed up, and things happened, and I somehow forgot all about Harley. Until tonight.
I hurry off to find Mom and Brett. I'm just starting to panic when I spot them in the kitchen. For the rest of the evening I watch them like a hawk. Anytime Harley comes near them I rush over to keep an eye on things.
By the end of the evening I'm exhausted, but I don't leave until Harley does.
She does eventually leave. All smiles at Mom and Brett and glares at me. I smile at her, sickly sweet, just to annoy her more, which is probably not the best idea, but I'm petty like that.
"Thank you so much for coming tonight honey." Mom says, kissing me on the cheek.
"No problem Mom." I smile, giving her a hug, then Brett. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow." I promise before heading out to my car.
I drive home, checking my mirrors for Harley the whole time. I may be acting overly paranoid, but with these crazy video game villains, you can't be too careful. I get home and unlock the front door, stepping inside.
I moved out of home eight or so months ago. Brett had just moved in and I decided he and Mom needed their own space. I now live in a shoddy one bedroom, one bathroom unit in the suburb that boasts the highest crime rate in the city.
As a result, I also carry pepper spray and a small knife in my back pocket when I have to walk anywhere. And I'm getting pretty damn good at my self defence classes I started taking, too.
I realise that the phrase 'closing the barn door after the horses have escaped' may come to mind. And that it may seem kind of stupid to learn how to protect myself after all the crazy things have happened, but what can I say. It makes me feel better knowing I'm able to knock a grown man out cold, just in case I ever have to again.
Not that I need to know how to defend myself much anymore. The closest I've got to a fight in the last two years is that time I was almost mugged while I was out jogging.
Other than that, the last couple of years have been almost totally uneventful.
I mean, I'm twenty now, I've graduated high school, started college, moved out of home and got a job, my driver's license and a normal, boring life.
Until Harley showed up, of course.
I have to do something about her, sooner rather than later. I don't doubt for a second that she would hurt Mom or Brett. She was never the most sane person, but after losing Joker, she's gone even more loopy.
I don't particularly feel like studying, so I ignore the pile of textbooks for my Game Design class and turn on the TV, surfing through the channels until I find a movie that looks interesting.
Of course, I can't concentrate on it.
How did Harley manage to survive here for so long without anyone noticing she wasn't real? I mean, she wouldn't have any ID, any money, and no proof of who she is.
I groan out loud.
It's easy to forget that Harley's actually pretty clever. I mean, she was a psychiatrist at one point. She probably didn't have much trouble recreating an identity for herself.
But she definitely can't stay here. She has to go. I go to bed, planning on finding and confronting her in the morning.
I wake up at six and push snooze on my alarm. Normally I would get straight up and start getting ready for a day of classes, but today I think I'll skip them. Having a crazy person hell bent on revenge after me puts things into perspective, and class doesn't seem so important anymore.
I text Mom to ask if she's working today. She replies almost immediately, saying she is.
My best bet on finding Harley is looking for her at the hospital, but I'd rather not have to confront her with Mom somewhere in the building.
I'm torn for a moment between keeping Mom far away from all this and finishing it all.
In the end though, my desire for this to all be over wins out.
I open the top drawer of my dresser and reach towards the back until I feel what I'm looking for and pull out a small black revolver.
It's not exactly top of the range but I can shoot it and it gets the job done.
I bought it about twelve months ago off the homeless guy who lives on my street. I'm not sure what his actual name is, but everyone just calls him The General.
He used to be in the military when he was younger but when he came home he kind of fell into a bottle of whiskey and never found his way back out. The General is actually pretty cool once you get to know him. He even took me out to the industrial district and taught me how to shoot and how to disarm someone with a gun.
He sits out the front of an apartment building just down from my unit, and I bring him food sometimes and he tells me stories. Things about his time in the military, and other stories of things he's seen but can't explain.
That was why I ended up telling him about Riddler. The whole story.
He called me crazy for a little while until I finally convinced him.
"You know, I once met a man who swore he woke up in the book he was reading." The General told me.
"You're kidding."
"Nope. I was in Russia, talking with some locals, and we got to talking about the paranormal. That was when this guy spoke up. Swore up and down that he woke up one day and was having conversations with the characters in his book. Then he tells us he died, and was home."
"That's exactly what happened to me!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah, complete with the bad guys coming home with him."
"So... I'm not the first person this has happened to."
"Not by far. Because then other people spoke up about hearing the same thing happening to a friend of a friend of a cousin."
From then on I was able to talk to him about everything, so I knew I had to talk to him today. I shoved the gun in the waistband of my jeans and pulled my shirt down low enough to cover it. When I get outside, I see the General sitting in his usual spot down the street, so I hurry down to see him.
"Morning Belle." He greets me. "You're out early today."
"Yeah. I have a bit of a situation." I tell him.
"What's wrong? Anything I can help with?" He asks, taking a swig from a bottle in the brown paper bag he's holding.
"Not really. It's Harley. She's here."
"Harley. Is that the clown woman?"
"Yeah, that's her."
"I thought you got rid of everyone." He says, looking concerned.
"I thought so too. But I totally forgot about Harley. We saw her, but I never even thought of her again."
"You want back up?" He offers. I glance at the brown bag in his hand, and I can smell the alcohol from where I'm standing.
"I don't think so. But thanks."
"Just remember what I taught you. Good luck, kid." He says affectionately.
"Thanks." I smile back, giving him a quick salute. He winks and I head back to my car. It's almost seven now, so Mum, and hopefully Harley, will be getting to work around now.
I get into the car and head to the hospital, parking in a somewhat secluded area behind a garden. And wait.
I see Mum's little blue Beetle drive in and park and watch her walk across the parking lot and inside. Minutes later a white sedan drives in and parks. I watch closely and sure enough, Harley gets out.
I whistle loudly and it catches her attention. I can see her looking around until she spots me and heads over.
I brace myself, trying to breathe through the nerves. This is it.
"What do you want?" Harley asks, looking impatient. "I gotta job to do."
"I want you to leave my mother alone." I say, giving her one last chance to give it up and do this the easy way.
"Not likely." She snorts. "I owe you." Right. The hard way it is.
In one swift movement I pull my gun out of my jeans, cock it and aim at Harley. I'm rewarded with a look of surprise on her face. She obviously wasn't expecting me to actually face up.
"Looks like Nigma taught you something after all." She says, studying me. I barely have time to think of a comeback before she kicks out at my outstretched hand, showing off her gymnastic skills.
Thanks to the General's training though, I'm kind of ready for it. I move my hand enough that I'm not disarmed, but not enough to avoid contact completely. She connects with my forearm, leaving it aching.
"Not quick enough." Harley sing-songs, coming at me for another attack. I jump out of the way and spin around quickly, taking aim at her again.
I shoot and miss by an inch. She laughs and kicks out at me, landing me in the shoulder. I stumble backwards before I find my balance again.
I need to finish this, now. Someone will have heard that shot, and we're fighting in front of a hospital full of people, meaning someone will come to investigate.
She tries to hit me, I block her and retaliate, punching her in the nose. She steps backwards, blinking, stunned for a short second.
It's all the time I need. I lift the gun, aim and fire. I see the red stain blossom on her white nurses blouse and vaguely notice that my aim was straight on.
She's dead before she hits the ground.
It's been two and a half years since I last saw Riddler, and I've had plenty of time to think about whether I should have gone back with him. But I still don't have an answer.
On one hand, I can't just leave my Mom here. She has Brett now, but I still can't leave her.
But then again, how can I ever be content with life after everything that's happened? Starting college, moving out of home and being independent are things that normal people would find exciting, but after everything I've been through it all seems kind of tame.
I stare at Harley on the ground, weighing my options. To stay or to go?
Before I can answer myself, or process what I'm doing, I reach down and grab Harley's hand.