Mister J's silver revolver sat heavy and cold in my fist. Ivy strode next to me down the empty street, swift and silent, red hair covered by a black hoodie. Her confidence was everything I needed to keep walking.
I extended an arm and stopped her before we turned onto Industrial Street. "He's probably waiting."
She passed me a travel-sized shampoo bottle containing the toxins. All I had to do was open it, and Mister J would be unconscious in seconds.
Ivy held on for a moment. "Inside, right? Don't open this anywhere except an enclosed space. I haven't tested it enough and it might knock out everyone nearby."
Except you, was the unfinished part of the sentence. My arm ached where she'd injected me.
I slipped the bottle inside my bomber jacket and turned.
"You're better than him, Harley," said Ivy. "Remember that when he tries to get inside your head."
I hesitated, then kept walking. Though she'd been telling me so, I didn't know if I believed it. I'd committed crimes just as terrible.
Still, I wouldn't have done any of this if not for him. He was out of control, and I was the only one who could get close enough to stop him. I had to put an end to this while I had some sanity left.
You sure about the sanity part? said a voice in my head, as I strolled towards ACE with a blood-red smile painted from ear to ear.
Mister J was waiting for me in the alley near the ACE Research Facility sign, wearing a purple blazer that I might have once considered adorable. I stopped several feet away.
"Ready, pumpkin?" he said.
I gritted my teeth at that tone. He spoke like nothing had happened — like this was date night, same as always.
"Ready, puddin'."
I hoped my tone was the same.
We crept around to the gap in the fence from which we'd escaped last time. A floodlight illuminated the gaping hole in the building. Scaffolding snaked up the side and loose sheets of plastic flapped in the wind.
Mister J took careful aim — with my pistol, I noted with anger — and shattered the bulb with a POP!
Plunged into darkness, we moved hastily before security would come to investigate. I followed Mister J, climbing the scaffolding with quick hands and feet.
Sure enough, the Chemical Firearms room had been cleared. Wind blew through the space with a hollow sound. I shivered.
"As I suspected," said Mister J. "Empty as the Batman's skull."
I followed him across the room, giving the barely patched hole in the floor a wide berth.
"I imagine they'll be on the same floor. A lot of work to move all those goods." Carefully, he unlocked the door and grasped the handle. "When I open this, we need to move fast, baby. You ready?"
I nodded, raising the silver revolver.
The moment the door swung open, the alarm started wailing. We stepped into the blindingly bright hall with its white walls and steel doors.
"Honey, I'm home!" said Mister J, opening his arms.
I couldn't bring myself to play. Mister J turned to me, eyebrows raised. He put a hand under my chin.
"Why so serious?"
Though he grinned, it didn't reach his eyes. I could think of nothing to say. After a moment under his searching stare, I turned my head, freeing my chin from his cold hand.
Mister J sighed and continued walking. "We can talk about your feelings later, Doctor."
He scanned each door as though hoping to find an obvious label for the new weapons room.
I needed to do it now. The hall was hardly an enclosed space, but nobody was around, and security would come running any second. I couldn't let them catch us — nor, I reminded myself, let Mister J shoot them.
As discreetly as I could, I tucked the revolver in the back of my shorts and pulled out the bottle of toxins.
Mister J checked the next door — and he must have seen the movement from the corner of his eye. He spun, gaze landing on the bottle in my hand.
Before I could react, he lunged with the speed of a striking cobra. His forearm crashed into mine and knocked the bottle from my grip. It clattered to the floor and rolled away.
His green eyes met mine. For a fraction of time, I caught surprise — and then anger. He grabbed my throat and pushed me backwards. I reached up with both hands, trying to pry his fingers. He walked me back until I slammed into the wall with a gasp.
"What is that?" he hissed.
He squeezed my throat until I couldn't breathe. I was too panicked to think.
"What are you planning, Harley?"
I opened and closed my mouth, tugging at his fingers. Mister J seemed to notice he was suffocating me and let go. I gasped.
Then his hands were on me, searching for the revolver. He found it and threw it aside.
"Harley, what the hell—?"
I drove my knee into his groin. He stumbled back with an "OOMPH!"
I gave my hardest roundhouse kick, getting him in the knees. He fell. I reached for his pistol — my pistol. He tried to grab it back but I punched him in the throat. He gagged. I stumbled backwards, panting, pistol aimed.
"Joke's over, Mister."
The alarm still wailed, drilling into my brain, making it hard to think.
Mister J raised himself to his knees, rubbing his throat. "Aw, baby, did I hurt your feelings so bad that you want to kill me?"
I glared at him.
His thin lips curled into a sneer. "You wouldn't."
I pulled back the hammer.
He studied my face, and whatever he saw made his expression darken. He stood. "I made you who you are. You'd still be in a lab coaxing a rat through a maze if not for me."
"You didn't make me, Mister J! I'm not your freak, like some Bride of Frankenstein—"
"Admit it, Harley! You belong to me and you love it that way."
I gritted my teeth, tears springing. "You don't own me—"
"You're mine, and this city is yours." He opened his arms. "I'm the Clown Prince of Gotham, and you're my Queen."
Take him out, said Ivy's voice in my head. He's playing you. You deserve better—
"You can't kill the man who loves you, baby."
The arm holding the pistol suddenly felt heavy. "You what?"
Mister J stepped closer. "I love you, Harley Quinn. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. Right outside this building. You remember?"
My heart thrummed. I shook my head violently, as though to dislodge him from it.
"Stop! You can't keep doing this, you nutcase."
He reached out, carefully, and pushed aside the barrel of the gun. Though my brain said no, I let him.
"We can work through this, baby. We're building a kingdom together. Don't let everything we have go to waste."
My hands trembled. Slowly, I lowered the pistol. Relief melted across Mister J's face. He gave me a lopsided grin that made me think of our first night together. The nightclub, the dancing, the pudding shots — and his apartment afterwards.
I held out a hand. "Dance with me, Mister J."
He took it. I pulled him in — But he's lying! Remember how badly he hurt you. He'll do it again. Think of the life you could have with someone who treats you properly — and I kissed him.
He kissed me back, tasting like whiskey. I pressed my body closer, running my fingers through his hair.
"See?" he murmured. "You'll always come back to me. Now let's stop this idiocy and find those weapons."
He tried to pull back, but I held on. My brain clouded over with something like rage, and sadness, and resolve. Somewhere in the last few weeks, our crimes had become more important to Mister J than I was. I had become a possession to him, or a pet, like a trained monkey.
I could not allow that.
The smile fell from my face. My grip tightened around the back of his neck, nails digging into his flesh. Fury squeezed my throat.
Mister J's eyes widened.
"Goodbye, puddin'."
In one motion, I raised the pistol to his forehead and squeezed the trigger.
But something smashed into me, knocking me sideways. The bullets skimmed Mister J's ear and ricocheted off the wall.
I grunted as someone threw me onto my stomach.
"Miss Quinzel, you're under arrest!"
The cop's full weight landed on my back, holding me to the cold floor. A struggle was going on beside me. I turned my head to see Bats and Mister J attacking each other. Weaponless, Mister J couldn't fight him off for long, and soon Bats had him pinned.
Then Mister J's green eyes met mine, scared and defeated. Everything clouding my brain dissipated.
What had I done? I'd let rage take over and I'd nearly killed the man who loved me. What if he was the only man who would ever love me? I looked down at my acid-bleached skin. I was a freak. His freak.
Batsy handcuffed Mister J and hauled him to his feet. He dragged him to the stairwell.
"Wait!" I screamed.
The officer on my back locked one of my wrists in cuffs — and with a burst of adrenaline, I twisted, unseating him. He slid sideways and I got my leg around him, enough to shove him off me. I straddled him and drove my elbow into his ribs. It was the one from the fire, O'Brien. He punched me in the jaw. I tasted blood. I punched him repeatedly, letting the blood dribble from my mouth onto his face. I kept hitting him until he stopped trying to fight back, and instead raised his arms to protect his face.
I sprang to my feet and ran after Mister J, sobbing.
"Puddin', I'm sorry!"
But by the time I made it down the stairs and out the door, they were stuffing him into the back of a police car.
"No!"
I would not be separated from my Mister J. We were the Clown Prince and his Queen — the Joker and his Harlequin.
A gun clicked behind me.
"Harleen Quinzel," said O'Brien through a mouthful of blood.
"Harley!" I shouted, rounding on him. "My name is Harley!"
"You're under arrest—"
His eyes rolled back. His knees buckled, and he fell. Ivy was standing behind him wearing a violently red shade of lipstick.
She stepped over O'Brien and grabbed my hand.
"Wait—"
"Harley, we have to go."
I dug in my heels and fought back, trying to wrench my arm free. Ivy pulled harder.
"They're taking him!" I shouted.
Ivy grabbed me by the jaw, forcing me to look at her. "They're about to take you, too. Remember what we talked about. Please."
I paused, breathing hard, warm blood dribbling from my lips. I wiped an arm across my chin, and then my cheek, angry at the tears for escaping.
Ivy held out a hand. I took it.
We ran.
