"…the Joker and his accomplice Harley Quinn killed eight security guards and escaped with nearly two million dollars in cash from the First National Bank. Batman arrived too late to stop the perpetrators escaping, but has vowed to bring them to justice…"
Harley switched off the news and over to another channel. She wished to God this whole city wasn't so obsessed with Batman – she was sick of hearing about him. She looked over at the bags of cash beside the sofa, and at her harlequin costume hanging over the radiator, still covered in spots of blood that wouldn't wash out. She felt tears come to her eyes. She hated herself for having to do this, steal things and kill people. Mr. J hated it too. If Batman didn't force them to do these terrible things, they would be perfectly content to live quietly and happily somewhere together, somewhere far away. In a place without darkness and night and monstrous men in bat costumes.
"Coming up on Criminal Profiles, we take a look at the twisted life and mind of the Joker's abused and degraded henchgirl and sometime girlfriend, Harley Quinn…"
"Wife," hissed Harley angrily at the TV. "I'm his wife."
They had been married a few years ago, a marriage nobody in this city recognized, claiming neither of them were of sound mind when it happened. But Harley knew the truth.
"A promising young psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, Dr. Harleen Quinzel was manipulated by the Joker to help him escape from the asylum…"
Yes, that was true, to an extent, thought Harley. She had taken up a job at Arkham believing that it was a mental institution dedicated to helping the insane. She had been sorely mistaken. After a week there, she realized the place was no more than a facility dedicated to torturing, demeaning, and sometimes killing those imprisoned within its walls. She and the other doctors were paid off by Dr. Arkham to keep silent about the conditions within the facility. Harley had hated taking the money, but she was afraid of what would happen to her if she informed the police about what was going on in Arkham. And then one day she had seen the Joker. She had watched him being tortured by Dr. Arkham, watched how bravely he had taken the beatings of the guards. When he was returned to his cell, she rushed to see to his wounds, and they began talking. Harley fell desperately in love with him, and couldn't stand to see him tortured anymore. She managed a daring escape attempt, one that nearly cost both their lives, for the security in Arkham was insanely tight. Nobody ever escaped from there without Batman and Dr. Arkham's permission. But Harley had managed it. And after that she vowed to help the Joker fight against the monster Batman, to take care of him and to love him. She had never regretted her decision.
"After the Joker broke her mind and used her to escape, Harleen assumed the criminal identity of Harley Quinn, hoping this pathetic gesture would help please the man she believed she was in love with. Far from it. Hundreds of witnesses have seen Harley physically and mentally abused by the man she blindly insists loves her. We interviewed Dr. Arkham, the man in charge of Arkham Asylum, who told us that Harley was never a particularly bright individual, using her looks and charms to put herself through college by seducing her professors. She was, in his own words, a mediocre doctor, and clearly a sad, pathetic woman, no more than another victim of the Joker's cruel and depraved mind…"
"I didn't work my way through seven years of medical school to be called stupid by some quack of a doctor," muttered Harley, flicking off the TV as tears fell from her eyes.
"What's that, pooh?" asked the Joker, emerging from the kitchen with two plates of food. He was smiling at her, but that smile faded instantly when he saw the tears trailing down her cheeks.
"Hey, hey, baby, what's all this?" he asked, putting down the plates and sitting down on the sofa, wiping her tears away gently.
"They're doing a special on me," whispered Harley, nodding at the TV. "Harley Quinn, the Joker's abused and stupid little henchwench…"
"Aw, now, pumpkin, you can't start caring about what a bunch of stupid reporters think," he murmured.
"It ain't just the reporters, Mr. J," she whispered. "It's everyone."
"Yeah. And everyone thinks Batman is a hero," murmured Joker. "Everyone's blind, Harley. They only see what they wanna see. They're the crazy ones, not us. Don't you ever forget that. And don't you ever let them make you feel small and sad and pathetic. You ain't any of that."
He kissed her tenderly. "How do you think it would look if the world knew that the Joker, the evil, heartless psychopath who terrorizes Gotham night after night, was madly and completely in love with Harley Quinn?" he whispered. "It would look like he had a heart, somewhere in that thin, emaciated, clown frame of his. And see, Bats couldn't have that. If people started thinking the Joker had a heart, they might begin to wonder why he committed these terrible crimes. And then they might, gradually, stumble upon the truth – that he doesn't want to commit them. That he's being controlled by someone else. So y'see why he's gotta make it look like I'm a monster. And nobody could ever love a monster but a stupid, pathetic woman who didn't have an ounce of self-respect. But don't let them make you feel like that, Harley. That ain't you, sweets. You're beautiful and strong and smart and funny and sweet, and I'm the luckiest guy in the world to have you as my wife."
He kissed her again. "It ain't me I'm concerned about, Mr. J," she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "It's you. I know I shouldn't care what people say or think about you, but when it's all so terrible, and so wrong…it's hard to take sometimes."
"Hey, you know me, baby," he said, smiling. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. And you gotta just smile your way through the sticks and stones. And you're the reason I do that, kiddo," he said, smiling as he tilted her chin up. "I could never be happy without my Harley girl. She puts a great, big smile on my face."
"And you put one on mine, puddin'," whispered Harley, beaming at him. She pulled him down on top of her as their kisses grew more passionate, when suddenly there was a knock on the door.
Joker drew away slowly. "That'll be him," he muttered.
Harley sat up, straightening her clothes as Joker went to the door and opened it.
"Evening, J," said Batman, cheerfully. "Can I come in?"
"Nope," retorted Joker. "You stay there and I'll bring the money to you."
"Now that's not a very nice way to treat your guest, is it?" asked Batman, pushing past him into the room. "You really need to work on your hospitality, J. And speaking of people I'd like to be hospitable to me," he said, smiling at Harley. "You're looking beautiful tonight, Harley, all flushed like that. You're a lot prettier with color in your cheeks – you should cut out that crap clown makeup look. You'd be a lot hotter without it."
"I wear the clown makeup so people know I belong to Mr. J," retorted Harley. "And nobody else."
"No need to be touchy, baby, I'm just trying to compliment you," said Batman, shrugging. "So where's the loot, J?"
Joker handed him the sacks. "That's two million. What's my cut?"
"Cut?" repeated Batman. "Oh, you think you're going to get some of this money?"
"Yes, we had a deal that…" began Joker.
"Aw, see, the thing about deals, J, is that they're just a bunch of words," interrupted Batman. "And words have never really meant anything to me. The only way to get things is through force and violence, not talking."
"Ok," said Joker, slowly. "So why doncha hand over some of that cash before I beat you senseless?"
"You threatening me?" asked Batman.
"Mr. J, don't…" whispered Harley.
"Yeah, I am," interrupted Joker. "I did that job fair and square, and I deserve a cut of the loot. Harley and I have to eat…"
"What does the bitch eat for two million?" demanded Batman. "You should beat her expensive taste outta her, like I do for mine. But you're right, J, fair's fair," he said, pulling out a bill. "I'll give you ten bucks."
"Try multiplying that by a thousand," retorted Joker.
"You really don't wanna give me lip, J," said Batman, softly.
"Oh yes, I really do," hissed Joker.
"Mr. J, please," began Harley, cuddling against his arm. "Just let it go."
"Listen to the bitch, J," said Batman, smiling mockingly. "I guess her useless mouth is good for something besides saying stupid things in an annoying voice. Y'know, I've fantasized about shutting you up, sweetheart, by shoving something big and hard between your pretty little lips…"
Joker punched him violently across the face. He continued to beat him repeatedly, but Batman retaliated with blows of his own, and he was the stronger man. Harley screamed and tried to pull Batman away, but he struck her across the face, knocking her to the ground. When she attacked him again, he seized her by the hair and slammed her face into the wall.
"Harley!" gasped Joker, struggling to his feet and racing over to her as Batman dropped her to the ground. He caught her as she fell.
"Now look what you've done to her, Joker," murmured Batman. "Another broken nose. Whatever did poor, sweet, stupid little Harley do to deserve that?"
Joker glared up at him, blood mixed with tears streaming down his face. "I will kill you for this, Batman," he whispered.
"Maybe," agreed Batman. "But not tonight."
He grabbed Joker around the throat and slammed him against the wall, handcuffing him. "Tonight it's back to Arkham for both of you."