"Hope you don't mind rats," said the Joker of the Opera, as he pulled Harley further down underground. "There are a lotta 'em down here."
"No, I don't mind them," said Harley, looking around at the darkness, pitch black except for the Joker's lantern. "Is this where you live?"
"Underneath the opera? Yeah," said Joker, nodding. "There are a ton of secret passages throughout the whole thing, so a guy like me can get around fairly quickly without being seen. You'll see when we get to the hideout – I got all kindsa systems so I can keep an eye and ear on people wherever they are in the theater. That's how I first found you crying alone in your dressing room."
"I'm really glad you did," she said. "At first I thought you were some kinda angel talking to me, maybe sent by my father to comfort me."
"Yeah, I'm no angel, toots!" chuckled the Joker. "But people in general are a cowardly, superstitious lot. If you can make it seem that you're omnipresent and omnipotent, that frightens the bejesus outta 'em. And after you do that, you can pretty much do what you want."
He stopped suddenly. "You don't get seasick, do you?" he asked.
"No. Why?" asked Harley.
"Just checking," he said, pulling her forward. Harley felt herself stepping onto a rocking surface which splashed under her weight. It was obviously a boat.
"This is the scenic route," explained Joker, climbing into the boat and punting across the lake. "There are quicker ways to get to the lair from the surface, but I thought you'd enjoy this one your first time."
"It's…absolutely beautiful," whispered Harley, seeing long, flickering candles rising up from the surface of the lake, lighting their way.
"Yeah, and I get a bargain on the rent!" chuckled Joker. "People pay me to live here!"
Harley giggled, glancing behind her. She saw the distinct profile of the man known to her as Mr. J for the first time. He was tall and thin and dressed all in purple, with a wide-brimmed purple hat and purple cape over his purple suit. But the most noticeable and intriguing thing about him was that he wore a mask over his face, which covered everything except his huge, glittering smile.
The boat docked at last in a massive room, decorated with clown memorabilia everywhere. Whoopie cushions and chattering teeth lay strewn about the place, balloons twisted into shapes hung down from the ceiling, and amidst the mess of joke items, there were weapons of various kinds.
"Sorry about the mess," said the Joker. "I didn't know you were coming in advance, or I would have cleaned."
"I don't mind," said Harley, looking around. "What's that?" she asked, gesturing to a series of pipes and vents coming from a machine in the corner.
"That's how I monitor everyone in here," said Joker, beckoning her over. "Here, I'll show you. You can hear various rooms by lifting the vents, like this," he said, pulling open one of the flaps. Harley distinctly heard the voices of the new managers.
"I'm telling you, we don't need her anymore, Jervis. Miss Quinzel is a revelation, and if I may say so, a much better singer."
"But we can't just cancel Signora Ivy's contract on such short notice after nineteen seasons, Jonathan! That wouldn't be fair!"
"We're men of business now, Jervis, we don't have to be fair. I say we make Miss Quinzel our permanent star."
"Quite an honor, huh, kiddo?" chuckled Joker, closing the flap.
"Yes," said Harley, beaming. "I just can't believe everyone liked me that much. People have never liked me before."
"Well, that makes two of us, kid!" chuckled Joker. "And these bits over here are for spying too," he said, gesturing to the pipes. Harley looked through one, and she clearly saw her dressing room, with Bruce Wayne searching it desperately.
"I'd kinda feel bad for Bruce if he wasn't such a jerk," said Harley, drawing away. "But I can't help but think he's only interested in me now because I'm popular and pretty, and I just think that's kinda superficial. When we were friends as kids, I thought we'd at least keep in contact after he returned to Paris, but he never attempted to contact me again until tonight. I don't think he would be interested in me if I wasn't a star, and that's not who I am deep down inside. I don't think he could ever love me for who I really am."
"A guy like that? I don't think so either," agreed Joker. "But hey, if I were you, I'd marry him for the money and then murder him after the wedding."
"Thanks for the advice, but money doesn't matter to me," said Harley. "And like I already told him, I'm seeing someone else," she added, smiling at him. "Although…I suppose I've never really seen you before, and I'm not really now, what with the mask and all…"
"Oh yeah, the mask," said Joker, nodding. "It's…uh…just something I wear…around people because…people have been…shocked by my appearance before. People who look different can be treated…very unkindly sometimes."
"I know," said Harley, nodding. "But you can't think I would treat you unkindly, after all you've done for me."
"No, I trust you, toots," he said.
"So will you take off the mask?" asked Harley.
"Maybe later," he said. "Why doncha just have a seat and I'll get you a drink…shame you didn't bring Brucie's champagne, but I think I have some lying around here. Back in a second," he said, heading out of the room.
Harley sat down, and instantly set off one of the chattering teeth. "You have quite the collection of joke items, but I don't see a piano or anything," she commented, as the Joker emerged with two glasses of champagne. "Aren't you a musician?"
"Nah, I'm just a guy who likes pranking other people," said Joker, shrugging as he handed her the glass. "Especially people who take themselves too seriously, like Poison Ivy and Harvey Dent. They think just because they got nice voices that they can treat everyone else like dirt. So I see it as my duty to take 'em down a peg, and make 'em the punchline to some jokes for once. But you pick up bits of musical knowledge over time living underneath an opera. And I can tell when something sounds good, like your voice, toots," he said, clinking his glass against hers.
"Thank you," she said. "My father taught me to sing – he was the world's most talented violinist. But after he died…I didn't want to sing anymore. It was only after I met you and you encouraged me that I found my voice again. I know he'd have been proud of me tonight," she said, with tears in her eyes.
"He certainly would – he raised one helluva singer," said Joker, nodding. "I'm also a guy who hates seeing talent and potential being wasted. And when I heard you singing to yourself, I knew you were destined for greater things. If I helped in my own small way by threatening people with violence and driving rivals away, it's really the least I could do. Plus I was gonna do it anyway, because it's fun," he added. "I'm kinda a born entertainer – not in terms of singing, like you, but in terms of comedy. And this way I don't waste my potential either."
"Is there any reason you don't pursue your own career in comedy instead of hanging around here in the shadows?" asked Harley. "Does it have to do with the mask?"
Joker nodded. "I…have kinda an unusual appearance. I mean, it's good for comedy, actually, but…it usually…scares people off instead of making 'em laugh. A lotta people are scared of…I mean, it's not true what they say, that everybody loves a…"
He trailed off. "More champagne?" he asked, holding up the bottle.
"You're really not going to let me see your face?" asked Harley.
He sighed. "I just…don't want you to be frightened off, kid," he said. "These past few months, talking to you, I've just…felt really happy. I don't wanna lose that happiness."
"Mr. J, you don't need to worry about me," said Harley. "I ain't superficial, you should know that by now. Otherwise I woulda gone with Brucie and his fine horses. If I've trusted you enough to come all the way down here alone with you, you should trust me enough to show me your face."
"Yeah…maybe later," he repeated. "How about some ice cream? Do you like ice cream? I'll see if I can go find some."
Harley nodded slowly. "I'll come with you," she said, putting down the glass and following him into the kitchen.
"It's easy to keep things cool down here – the hard thing is keeping 'em away from the rats," said Joker, opening a long, metal box in the corner. "But they can't chew through metal. The bowls are just in that cupboard," he said, nodding.
"This place is almost like a real home," commented Harley, taking out the dishes.
"Yeah, I try to live as normally as possible – leave the theatricals for the audience upstairs," he said. "This is my little sanctuary down here, where I can just relax and be myself and not have to feel like I'm performing all the time."
"And yet you're still wearing the mask," commented Harley.
"One scoop or two?" asked Joker, ignoring her and holding up a spoon.
"Two, please," said Harley. She watched him concentrating as he scooped the ice cream into the bowls, then suddenly snuck up behind him and tore his mask away.
"Jesus, what the hell?!" he exclaimed, rounding on her. "What kinda horrible house-guest are you, sneaking up on me when my back is turned and then just ripping stuff offa me?! You know, in a more civilized time, I could sue you for assault!"
Harley was too stunned to respond, staring back at him in astonishment. His face was bone white, with wide red lips surrounding his mouth, and piercing green eyes glaring at her in fury. His hair was also bright green, and his whole appearance resembled a clown.
He snatched the mask back from her, replacing it. "Well, now you've seen my face," he snapped. "So maybe you understand why I wear this now."
"No," said Harley, quietly. "I don't."
He turned to her. "You're beautiful," she said, staring at him. "Absolutely beautiful. The most beautiful man I have ever seen, so unique and so special. I've never been…more attracted to a face before in my life."
He stared at her. "Is this some kinda joke?" he demanded.
"It's no joke," she said, approaching him again. "After all you've done for me, all our talks and secrets, and all the wonderful things you've made me feel, you couldn't be anything else but beautiful to me. And you are. You might not believe that, but…I didn't believe my voice was beautiful a few months ago. And tonight the world saw that it was. And tonight I've seen…how beautiful you are," she whispered, gently pulling his mask off again. "If you could see yourself through my eyes…you'd know. If the world could see you through my eyes, they'd know too."
"I…don't want the world to know," he murmured, tentatively sliding his arms around her waist. "I learned a long time ago not to care what the world thinks about me…but I do care…what you think about me. I care a lot."
"Well, lemme show you what I think about you," she whispered, bringing her lips up to his. She kissed him tenderly and he returned it, pressing his mouth into hers with quiet desperation. She responded to his passion, bringing her hands up to caress his face, their lips never separating.
"You…still want ice cream?" he asked, when they drew away at last.
"Nah uh," she whispered, grinning. "I just wanna know which way your bedroom is."
He chuckled, lifting her off her feet and into his arms. "Right this way, my little clown of music!"
"Clown of music?" repeated Harley, as he carried her into the bedroom.
"If you rework your name, it becomes Harley Quinn," he said. "I took that as a sign when we first met that…you were kinda special, a clown like me. It's silly, but…"
"No, I like it," she said, grinning at him. "That can be my stage name now that I'm a star – Harley Quinn. You're a genius, puddin'," she said, kissing him as he lay her gently down on the bed.
"Puddin'?" he repeated, pausing in his kisses.
"If you can give me a new name, why can't I give you one?" asked Harley.
"You already did – Mr. J," he snapped. "I can't be called 'puddin'' – that negates my carefully crafted and threateningly mysterious image!"
"Ok," sighed Harley, sitting up. "I guess I'll just go then…"
He growled, and pulled her back down onto the bed. "Fine. Puddin' it is," he muttered. "But only in private, and never when I'm pranking the others. Unless it's with pudding."
"Deal, puddin'," she whispered, smiling and pulling him down on top of her.