Hello there lovelies! It's been so flattering to see so much attention on my story. I see other stories on here that are just so perfect and it's crazy to think that some of you guys that read those stories are taking the time to read mine as well. Never really gotten so many favs and follows for something I've written so even though it's not that big a deal, it's a pretty big deal for me. :p Anyways, as always, I hope you guys like this chapter.
Over the next few weeks, the bat visited Harley so that she could spill the secrets of crime. The ones she knew, anyway.
Their sessions took place in the same room and never lasted longer than an hour. The bat, however, didn't waste a single second. Anything that was brought up had to be described in perfect detail. What was the person wearing? Did he/she have any scars that were visible? Any distinct accent or lisp? How about height and approximate weight?
What the hell did she know?
It was rather frustrating when the bat demanded more than she knew, pushing her to think back and remember specifics she no longer recalled. She only remembered so much, especially because she didn't know she would one day be relaying back information.
Whenever he wanted her to give details about something she honestly didn't remember, she always shot a, "I don't remember! What, you want me to lie to you and make somethin' up?"
That always got him to shut up.
After a few sessions, the bat gave her a tiny black notebook, small in size but with plenty of pages. Harley would write in it whenever she thought of something, that way she'd have a list full of topics to discuss with the bat on his next visit. She'd always have a few more secrets to reveal.
The purpose of it was actually to make sure she was as detailed as possible. Sometimes, when put on the spot, Harley couldn't really remember the full details, but laying in bed in her cell at night would sometimes be helpful with remembering. Every random memory was recorded on paper to make sure she didn't forget again.
Harley never expected him to check up on absolutely everything she said. Well, she did and she didn't. Batman was just…Batman. He had no other life to live. He had a small black recording device that taped every word they exchanged in these sessions. With nothing else to do, he probably checked up on her leads the instant he left the asylum.
Well, Harley soon found out that it was exactly what the bat did as soon as he left. He verified every single word that came out of her mouth. One day, on a routine visit, she entered the room to find the bat with his back to the table, facing away from her. It was a change that instantly let her know something was wrong. There was also tension in the air that made the hair on the back of her head stand up.
As soon as she sat down, the bat whirled around and slammed his fists on the table, startling Harley right out of her chair. She got up off the floor quickly, looking up to see a very angry bat. His mouth was the same but his skin color was slightly redder and his breathing a little more shallow than normal.
"You lied to me," he said in a low voice. It almost made Harley shiver. Somehow, nearly whispering those words was worse than if he would have yelled them. Their sessions had been going on for some time now and she had gotten to a level of comfortability with the bat. Not that they sat over coffee and had delightful conversations, but she never had a reason to be anything other than relaxed whenever they met. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be scared of him.
"I-I haven't lied about anything."
He was silent as he tried to regain his composure, backing up from the table with a few steps. "Yes, you have."
"I have not!" she spat, frowning at his accusations as the fear slowly turned to anger. She wasn't doing this stupid notebook writing and playing these memory games for no reason.
"It's my fault," he said gruffly, glancing at a corner of the room.
"What's your fault?"
"I shouldn't have done this. I shouldn't have-"
"Shouldn't have what? Trusted me? Why? Because a criminal can't be trusted?"
"I thought we had an understanding. I can't help you get out of Gotham if you lie to-"
"I want to get out of here!" she screamed, standing up and nearly jumping on the table. "You have no idea what it's like to be here all the time without knowing when you'll be out! At least before I had the hope that I'd be rescued! Now I don't even have that. I don't have…anyone."
She paused to take a few deep breaths and make sure she wasn't about to start crying. She had that familiar knot in her throat already. The reality of her situation wasn't as bad as when she spoke it out loud. Somehow it made it just a little more true.
"I already told you I wanna do this the right way, bats. Please…don't…" she trailed off and swallowed. "Don't take that away from me."
The bat studied her for a moment as he relaxed. At Harley's outburst, he had backed up and placed one hand on his belt, ready to act in case she grew violent.
"Please," Harley whispered, not caring anymore that the tears were spilling. She couldn't go back to not hoping. This was all she had now. He said he'd get her out and that's exactly why she was trying. She had to make sure the bat kept up with his side of the bargain because holy crap was she trying hard to keep hers. Harley wiped off the tears and sat back down, looking up at him. "I haven't lied," she said softly.
There was a moment of silence before he spoke, just as quietly as she had done.
"There was a…discrepancy in the information you provided and the facts I uncovered."
"Discrepancy?"
"A discrepancy is when two things-"
"I know what a discrepancy is, batface!" she yelled, wiping the remaining tears from her face. There was no need to seem vulnerable when he was insulting her.
What a jerk.
"Tell me what the discrepancy is. Maybe you're wrong."
"I'm never wrong," he said with that fake composure she knew masked his anger. She'd struck a nerve. Good.
"Tell me what is was, bats," she pressed.
He sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, probably reaching to whatever God he believed in and trying to figure out why he was double-checking his intel with her. Must be humiliating for the Batman to have to run his facts with a criminal. The thought of that made Harley smile inwardly.
"The mob isn't controlled by the Lombardi."
Harley blinked. "Uh, yea it is."
"Negative."
"Positive," she mocked in a low voice, frowning a bit to mirror his serious expression. She knew he wasn't in the playful mood but she didn't care. He had seen her practically beg to keep her bracelet and had just now seen her cry. Time for her to have some fun.
"This isn't funny, Quinn. There's movement in the city and it might lead to trouble. The mob is adjusting their pieces on the chess board and I need to find out why."
"Then track the Lombardi. One of them will eventually go someplace that will help you out."
"They don't have control."
Harley frowned, looking down at the table. "Unless they changed, but I find it hard to believe that someone kicked their narcissistic butts off the throne."
"I haven't heard about a power shift," the bat said slowly, almost as if he were speaking to himself now.
"Me neither," said Harley, shaking her head.
"And yet I come to find out the mob is headed by the O'Connor family."
Harley looked up at him carefully, waiting to see if there was a hint of humor in his eyes. When she saw that there was none and that he was being absolutely serious, she burst out laughing.
"Are you serious?" she laughed, enjoying the way his confused expression slowly turned to anger.
The bat stood still as he watched her shift in her chair from laughing so hard. His tone, which was back to being serious, displayed a bit more of the annoyed anger she had sensed before.
"Do I look like I'm playing?" he practically growled.
"So much for the world's greatest detective," she said, immediately sobering when she saw the look that came over his face. The flame in his eyes made her reconsider her attitude. Maybe an angry bat wasn't the best idea. "Uhh, well, the O'Connor family has the Irish mob, bats. Not the Italian mob."
"The Irish mob?"
"There's more than one mob, ya know."
"The Irish mob has influence in Metropolis. Not Gotham."
Harley sat up in her chair again and cleared her throat. "They came in a few months ago and kept all of their dealings on the hush-hush. Apparently quiet enough not to be spotted by the mighty Batman. But anyways, they moved in and started fighting for land right away."
"So Antonio Lombardi has the Italian mob…"
"And Seamus O'Connor has the Irish mob."
The bat stayed silent as he thought about what that meant. When a thought seemed to strike him, he met her gaze again, but Harley could still see the gears turning in his head.
"You said the Lombardi were trading cocaine for guns and ammunition."
"Yup. They've been doing that forever."
"But it was Seamus O'Connor who met with Grant in a club last night in downtown Gotham."
Harley frowned as she joined the bat in trying to figure out what that meant. Tyler Grant had access to all of the best weapons, but he was untouchable. Diplomatic Immunity and a few other things kept the feds from ever getting too close. He'd made a deal with the Italians long ago that seemed like it would go on forever.
"That doesn't make sense," she thought out loud. "The Italians need the guns to run their section of the city. They have their empire stretched all over Gotham and parts of Metropolis. I think Antonio Lombardi's brother has some reach in Manhattan, too."
A sudden memory spiked up in Harley's mind and she stood up quickly, reaching into the shallow pocket of her patient uniform. Pulling out the little black notebook the bat had given her, she flipped through the pages frantically until she reached the place she was looking for. It was a page that held information she hadn't gotten to yet. She looked over it quickly before turning to face him again.
"The Chinese have been trying to get in on the deal. They want access to the drugs and they've been trying to get Antonio's attention for a long time. Even cleaned up a few messes for him here and there to try and fall into his favor."
The bat crossed his arms over his chest. "What did they offer him?"
Harley shook her head. "I don't know. But whatever it was must have happened recently, and it was big enough to make him drop the deal with Grant. So now I guess Grant has to try and deal with the Irish so that he still has business and the Chinese are giving who-knows-what to PizzaTown in exchange for cocaine."
"You know," the bat said slowly, looking at her eyes. Always her eyes. "You might make a good cop one day. Maybe Metropolis Police Department?"
Harley almost laughed at the ridiculous comment. "Keep wishing, bats."
"And for the record," he said, "I don't always start off knowing everything. I investigate. That's how I learn what's going on around me. I'm not psychic."
She was about to ask what the hell he was talking about when she realized he was referring to her earlier quip about him being a lousy detective. He was explaining himself. Trying to justify why he was so freakin' clueless about everything. Harley smiled but soon found herself frowning again.
"Keep your ears peeled, batface. That special something that the Chinese are giving the Italians has to be better than just guns. Otherwise they wouldn't have broken their deal with Grant. It has to be big enough to give them power over all three cities, so you might have your hands full. Make sure to cancel all of your dates and doctor's appointments."
"It's funny that there hasn't been any activity from the usual suspects."
"And there won't be any, bats. This has nothing to do with some of the bigger players in Gotham's crime log. This is just a good old-fashioned fight for territory among mortals. And it'll go down soon, whatever weapon they got."
That got him serious in the blink of an eye. "You think they're going to try something here?" he asked, but they both already knew the answer to that.
"Where else are they gonna test it if it ain't here in Gotham?"
The bat nodded, turning towards the door and making it in three long strides. He turned to look at her once more before opening it and heading out, but she heard his last four words right as he disappeared from sight.
"Not in my city."
I've started this huge process of brainstorming on where I want this story to go. Nothing too solid yet, but I have a few things here and there that will hopefully push it along for another chapter or two before I decide. Feel free to leave me a review or (as some of you prefer due to privacy) send me a PM. Thanks for reading!