This was an especially difficult chapter to write on account of certain things about the Gotham night life and the Iceberg Lounge that continue to elude me. But, hey, I got the most awesome reviews on this fic from Much Ado About Nonny, so at least I know I worked hard to make so many pages. It was kinda fun to work on this time, since I'm finally getting around to using Jervis—sorta—but still, the seriousness will be included, since this chapter is important.

-:-
Blow a kiss, make a wish…
…Make a wish…
See, that part, I always forget, that part…
-Human Trafficking.

Ice In the Veins-:-

Not high heels, but flats that clicked better than heels in the color of Rose Red. The strappy sandals on her feet, looking from her seat on a bar stool, were to Harley a little…so not like her. Whatever had possessed her to buy them was lost on her while looking at how they would not increase her height and cause men to watch her ass like a dog would a fresh steak, but would certainly cause her to look a lot younger than she did. They also looked ridiculous while only wearing her loose white pantsuit with the diagonal stripes that made her look like a female Beetlejuice in the middle of brunch at the farthest corner of the Iceberg Lounge drinking orange juice…

"…I'm a little teapot, short and stout. This is my handle, this is my spout. When I get all steamed up, hear me shout: Tip me over and pour me out…"

Jervis Tetch was actually clingingto one of the guards that had picked him up from his cell, eyes wide and afraid as the other guard—with equally round and reactive eyes and facial expression—made to open the door to Harley's therapy office. The keys were shaking in the large man's hands.

"You know, I'm feeling a little hot today; maybe you two gentlemen should take me to the infirmary instead. I think Dr. Quinzel might be busy, actually, so we could just-"

The guard he was holding pushed him into the now open door and followed him inside to unchain his arms and legs, the good, blonde woman sitting cross-legged atop her mutilated desk, glaring at the steaming teapot and the one cup of tea in front of her, it's twin sitting next to the teapot placed on her coffee table within arm's length of where Jervis would sit on the couch.

Once the two blondes were left alone, the lock in the door clicking and dreadful silence pervading the atmosphere, Harley finally looked up from the cup of tea at Jervis, still frowning. He noted absently that a frown did not look good on her and was actually worse than her manic smiling when she was still with Joker.

"Please have some tea, Hatty," she offered, taking a cube of sugar from the small pyramid of them in the palm of her hand to chuck it into her own cup; it made a little splash and she didn't try to drink any of it as she dropped in another cube before the other one disintegrated, "I think at least one of us should drink it. I thought you liked this stuff because it had caffeine in it?"

The shy blonde man accepted her invitation to tea, eagerly pouring himself a cup as he wasn't generally allowed tea by most—if not all—of the other doctors and hadn't had any since he'd been dragged back to Arkham a week ago, "Much thanks, my dear. It does a body good to have some tea for the noon hour."

His cheerfulness seemed to make her more irritated at the cup in front of her and she dropped the entire handful of sugar into the liquid. It turned into a tanned-yellow lump of semi-solid and Jervis immediately shut his mouth and declined putting sugar into his own tea. He just sipped from the heated brew and was glad to find that she had remembered he liked Earl Gray.

"This has no caffeine and I have a hangover," Harley started again, unwinding her foot and used it to push the cup to the furthest end of her desk like it was an ugly, dirty sock, "Please, answer why the hell you like that swill so much."

Jervis wanted to tell her that such language wasn't respectable for a lady to use, but given that she had black rings under her eyes and her bangs were hanging from the headband she was wearing, all of which making her look like a train wreck, he declined and swallowed a mouthful of his tea, "Um, well, I never understood why Americans liked coffee so much, what with it being the cause of a lot of health problems, not to mention the taste, so I guess the answer to why you prefer that to tea is the same reason I prefer tea to coffee. Plus, I was raised on it, so, obviously, I would like it better than that black garbage."

Harley growled, but left alone the teasing of his preferences. Jervis was grateful and took another sip of the well made brew.

"I talked to your Alice yesterday at Penguin's lounge."

…And then the well made brew made a way painfully through his nostrils.

He chortled a couple of times before looking up to find that the gymnast was standing before him with a white handkerchief; an object he gladly took and used readily to clear his sinuses. She looked less than amused that he had dropped his teacup on her carpet—a lovely thing that was all white fuzz with black spots in all sizes—but didn't say anything as she picked it up with the saucer and put it back on the table across from him, taking her seat at her disgustingly vile and wrecked chair. She eyed the patchy brown spot on the rug his tea had made with minor consideration.

When he could take in air without it burning, Jervis looked across at the woman—who was younger than him—and gave her a wide-eyed look of unbound curiosity to be associated with Cheshire Cats and a fat Duchess.

"You saw Alice? Really?"

"Yes, Hatty, I saw the blondie. I don't quite understand your fixation with her, but I did talk with her about you. Actually, I set up meeting with her for the express purpose of talking about you and her and her boyfriend-person."

The Mad Hatter didn't seem to like the mention of the brunette man Alice was currently enthralled with, but remained intent on asking Harley about the visit.

"What did you two talk about?"

"I told you, we talked about you."

"Yes," Jervis wheedled, not at all noticing that her smile had re-appeared in his leaning over his knees, "But what about?"

"Mostly why she didn't ask you out and why she's dating a man with the I.Q. that makes him rather, well, stupid."

Okay, Jervis wasn't really certain he'd like the answer to his next question, but he asked anyway, despite common sense, "You asked her why she never made advances toward me?"

"Advancing is a strong word usually associated with guys, Jervis," Harley held up a finger, correcting him, "Hit on might be a better way to put it. Or displayed interest. Whatever floats your boat."

"What did she say to that?" The blonde tried, gritting his teeth as she looked rather interested more in the carpet stain than the conversation. Good lord, she was acting like she used to in Joker's employ.

"Oh, well, she didn't really have an answer to that. I gave her some of my theories why, but they just seemed to make her kinda absent-minded and we cut the meeting short. Sorry, Hatty."

A better part of him that had come into play the moment he had started seeing the other Rogues more as friends than any he had ever had were pricking at his brain, warning him against his next line of questioning liked a lighthouse warning a boat away from a cliff, but his curiosity was too much. He didn't like the word 'theory' in reference and consideration to himself.

"You have theories about me?"

"Of course, we used to sometimes share the same hideout when Mista—" she snapped her teeth onto her tongue like an alligator bite, pausing and drawing blood that he could see lining her teeth, "Joker, was still here in Arkham. Why wouldn't I think up reasons why a nice girl like that would reject a nice guy like you?"

He tweedled his thumbs, trying to not look at the blood on her teeth or flinch when he saw her suck in breathe that put pressure on the wound along her tongue and would make more blood well up inside her mouth.

"What were some of your theories?"

She didn't blink as she answered, pulling a tissue from a Kleenex box on the end of the table and put it to her tongue, "Oh, just one. I thought she might have come to the conclusion that you were gay."

Jervis found his jaw hinged open wide and absently counted three perfect red diamond shapes Harley's blood made on the tissue as she pulled it away.