Chapter Three

Harley Quinn lay on a gurney in the Bat Cave. She was exhausted and sleeping, her large bosom rising up and down with her steady breathing. Batman checked her vitals again. Her temperature had risen slightly. He had set her leg. The break was clean and would heal just fine. Her arm he placed in a sling.

Batman did not remove her mask. Her clothing had been dried with the aid of the heat lamps surrounding the gurney.

An elevator opened, and an older but handsome gentleman came over to the table with a tray. "I say, Sir," he said with an English accent, "was it wise to bring Miss Quinn here? "

Batman looked at the vitals monitor. "She was hurting, both physically and emotionally, Alfred, there was no other place to take her." He continued his ministrations on the young woman. Alfred did not fail to take notice.

Alfred sat the tray down on the table next to the gurney. He had brought a mirror and make-up supplies for Harley when she awoke to take care of herself. "It just seems to me, that she might get the wrong impression."

"There is no impression," Batman said emotionless. "Joker allowed his men to do their worst to her. I could not leave her there."

"And that's very commendable of you, Sir," Alfred said. "I meant nothing untoward."

"I know. "

Harley Quinn stirred slightly on the gurney but otherwise remained asleep.

"How long do you expect she might be out?" Alfred inquired.

"Probably for a few hours. She took a real beating. When she awakes, we can get some food into her," Batman said, and headed over to the mega computer.

"Have you heard from Commissioner Gordon?' Batman asked.

Alfred studied for a second. "The Bat Signal went up a few hours ago, but I have a feeling you may have been preoccupied at the moment."