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Okay here be the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. :)
Harley had just finished cleaning the kitchen when the jingle of keys in the door grabbed her attention. In walked Dr. Crane with his arms full of suitcase and Chinese food. Harley squeaked with glee.
"There's a man after my own heart." Dr. Crane smiled sheepishly as Harley helped unload his burden. He set the suitcase down and rolled his wrists, working out the kinks. Harley excitedly rushed the bags of food to the kitchen and opened up the boxes like it was Christmas. Dr. Crane methodically grabbed plates and cutlery and set them gently out on the table.
"Oh wait. I forgot something." Dr. Crane returned to the door and pulled out a bottle of red wine from another bag. He presented it to Harley for her approval.
Harley took the gift and smiled as she examined the label. "Does it pair with MSG?"
Dr. Crane smirked. "What doesn't?"
Harley tipped the bottle towards her doctor in acknowledgement. "Fair point." She grabbed two wine glasses for the table while Dr. Crane took the bottle from Harley and entered the kitchen. He pulled out a corkscrew made of pointed wrought iron.
"That looks more like a torture device," Harley giggled. Dr. Crane only smiled and winked playfully as he poured the shiny liquid into the glasses and the pair sat down for their celebratory meal. They toasted Bender for being an excellent subject and spent the time comparing notes.
"I can't imagine what that must have been like to be caught between abject fear and total hilarity," Harley mused as she refilled her glass and the doctor's.
"I thought that was your entire life," Dr. Crane remarked with a smirk. A chopstick whizzed past his head before the doctor gave a serious response.
"I believe the subject would experience all the hallucinations of the fear toxin, but have the physical reactions of the Joker toxin. After all, we tend to giggle when nervous so it's not a completely unexpected reaction."
Harley frowned for a moment. "Not everyone is going to come out the other side of this are they?"
Dr. Crane looked nonplussed. "The toxin will affect everyone differently. Some will be hit harder than others. That said, we can't customize the dose for every Gotham citizen."
Harley stared into her glass. "No, we can't." Dr. Crane reached out and covered Harley's hand with his own.
"The dose took out Bender for thirty minutes. He was an average example of a human. The very weakest may go under for a couple hours, but I feel confident that no one will be permanently lost." Harley smiled weakly at Dr. Crane's reassurance. The doctor took another sip from his glass.
"Besides, your boss told me he would kill me if I killed anyone. Coming from him, that's an odd request."
Harley shrugged. "Mr. J doesn't want to offend the Bat's sensibilities."
Dr. Crane furrowed his brow. "What does the Batman have to do with anything?"
Harley tilted her head. "He didn't tell you?"
"I assumed this was simply for spectacle. Does he want to draw out the Batman for another infamous battle?"
Harley burst out laughing. "Oddly enough, not this time. Everything Mr. J does is to get the Bat's attention. It's the least subtle flirting I've ever seen. He wanted to knock everyone out as a sort of present so Batman can round up all the low level thugs, freeing up time for the Bat and Mr. J to play."
Dr. Crane swirled his wine in silence. "That's possibly the craziest plan I've ever heard." He finished his glass.
"So then why are you doing this Doctor?"
Dr. Crane shrugged and smirked. "For science. I've never tested a treatment on so many subjects before. It's like having years of research compressed into a day. Who would turn that down?"
"Not you obviously," Harley scoffed.
A mischievous smile played Dr. Crane's lips. "That and your boss is paying me a dizzying amount of money." Harley laughed and began to clear the table. Dr. Crane grabbed the glasses and the bottle and moved to the couch. While Harley was boxing up dinner, he was looking through the video that was shot that day. When Harley joined him, Dr. Crane closed his laptop and sighed.
"I wonder what nice, normal people are doing tonight."
Harley curled her legs beneath her. "Doing laundry and fighting with their spouses I imagine." Dr. Crane poured the last few droplets into Harley's glass while Harley feigned a pouty expression. The doctor ran his thumb over Harley's stuck out lower lip.
"Like I would only buy one bottle." He jumped up and grabbed the second bottle from his bag before going to the kitchen to open it. Harley grinned as her last sips filled her belly with a glowing, warm feeling. Dr. Crane returned and refilled both their glasses. As he took a long taste of the dark liquid, Dr. Crane leaned back into the couch and allowed his senses to fuzz over and his inhibitions to recede ever so slightly.
"Do you remember your convocation day?"
Harley turned her head at the unexpected question, but giggled at the memory.
"I remember you didn't show to the ceremony and the dean was pissed."
"I've always hated the pomp and stupid outfits they make the professors wear. Every year I tried to fake an illness."
"You could have shown up for my sake."
"I hate stupid hats."
"Says the guy with the burlap bag on his head."
"That's a mask; not a hat."
Harley mused over the notion as she took another swig from her glass. "I had to come find you after. I wanted to kill you I was so angry."
"No, you weren't."
"Okay, I wasn't murderous, but I was upset that you weren't there."
Dr. Crane crept closer to Harley. "Didn't I make it up to you?"
Harley raised an eyebrow. "You did. I had to pay for that gown though."
Dr. Crane stared off in fond remembrance. "We spent the whole afternoon in my office."
"With the door locked," Harley giggled.
"How did they let you walk the stage wearing…so little underneath?"
"I changed after the ceremony, but before going to see you."
Dr. Crane sat upright. "Aha. So, you're weren't angry."
Harley punched his shoulder. "Shut your face."
Dr. Crane cleared his glass and scoffed as Harley quickly refilled it. He held the glass gently, warming the liquid with the heat from his hands.
"I hated that you went to Arkham."
Harley stared at him with a puzzled expression. "Which time?"
Dr. Crane continued to stare at his drink. "You were too good for that place. You had an intellect that could have taken you places…away from Gotham."
"What could have been eh?" Harley smirked as she downed the rest of her wine. Dr. Crane returned the favour by pouring out the last of the second bottle into Harley's glass.
"So…Doctor. If I was too good for Arkham, why are you there? Your intelligence is positively dizzying."
Dr. Crane shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Your goodness is deserved by no one in this hellhole of a city and was certainly not earned by anyone in that asylum. You're a light that shines even in the darkness of the Narrows. You make the Joker want to be a better man. That is a truly bizarre notion. Now, I on the other hand, am exactly what Arkham Asylum and Gotham deserve. This scheme of Joker's may be the last hope at finally purging the weakness from this city."
Harley sat cross-legged with her wine glass cupped in her hands. "Boy, you sure get dark when you're drunk."
"Sorry," Dr. Crane shook his head, "I believe we are supposed to be celebrating."
Harley put her now empty glass down and jumped up. "We are. Put on some music. I'll be right back."
"Wait what? What kind of music? Harley?" It was too late. Harley ran and grabbed her bag and launched into the bedroom. Dr. Crane folded his glasses and set them gingerly on the table. He rubbed his tired eyes before making his way to his stereo. He began thumbing through his collection of vinyl that was just as old as the books he kept. The doctor couldn't even remember where he had acquired half of his records when the sound of the bedroom door opening brought him back to the present. Dr. Crane turned around and actually felt weak in his knees.
Harley stood barefoot in a simple black dress with wide straps over her shoulders and the skirting flaring out just below her waist. It hugged her perfectly and the simplicity of it made Harley's features glow.
Harley twirled a lock of her hair round her finger, looking almost shy. "Mr. J hates this dress. He says it makes me look plain."
Dr. Crane stepped forward slowly. "Then he is blind as well as a fool."
Harley nearly jumped to her boss' defense when the soft sounds of tinny trumpets and scratchy clarinets filled the apartment.
Dr. Crane walked across the floor and offered his outstretched hand to Harley. "Would you still like to see my moves Miss Quinn?"
Harley giggled and placed her hand within his. "Very much Dr. Crane."
Dr. Crane lifted his arm and spun Harley underneath it. When she spun back to face him, Dr. Crane locked his arm around Harley's waist and guided her around their small dance floor with the gentle grace of Fred Astaire. Harley giggled as the pair twirled easily around the tiny apartment, her doctor quietly pushing and pulling Harley along, leading her without her knowledge. Harley felt lighter than air. Her feet instinctively followed Dr. Crane's calculated steps. She laughed completely when he dipped her so low her hair tickled the floor. Her laughter sent shivers down Dr. Crane's spine. To him, it was more musical than any note that would ever come out of any stereo.
The song changed and a slow flugelhorn led ballad sung out through the crackled speakers. Dr. Crane's smile dropped to his regular serious expression as he pulled Harley close to him before she could protest. With one hand caressing the small of her back and the other intertwined with her hand, Dr. Crane swayed back and forth slowly, making unhurried circles around the living room. Harley felt such peace in his arms. Even with the knowledge it was only temporary, Harley watched the world melt away and disappear into the night. The only existence for her was this dance and this song. For the first time since their association had begun, she allowed herself to get completely lost in her doctor's iced blue gaze. She marveled as the icy grey oceans surrounded the brightest blue rods in each iris, threatening to drown her. Dr. Crane fixed his gaze on Harley and turned his hand inward, bringing her hand towards his lips. He placed a long, soft kiss along her knuckles, breathing in her scent mixed with his. Harley's heart began to pound with the anticipation of what her doctor might do to her. Dr. Crane dropped her hand and drew his hand up to her face, cupping the back of her head gently, letting his fingers get tangled in her blond locks. Harley's hands held fast to Dr. Crane's shoulders as his thumb drew small circles along her temple. She unconsciously leaned into his palm, which now pressed against her cheek. His sweet breath heated Harley's face and made her heart flutter. She didn't stop him as he leaned in closer still. She gasped as she felt the tip of his tongue run along her bottom lip as he took it between his own. Her lips slowly connected with his, as her breath was lost in a dream.
RING RING RING
Dr. Crane quickly broke the kiss at the recognition of his ringtone. Harley sighed in frustration as her doctor made his way to the kitchen table to check his phone.
"Shit," he whispered under his breath.
He hit the accept button. "Dr. Crane…yes…yes…they were successful…half an hour…I'm sorry? That's more than enough…I can't test that…how? No…I don't care how much money…fine…fine…yes." Dr. Crane ended the call sadly. He leaned forward, bracing his wrists on the kitchen table. Harley approached slowly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
"That the boss?" Dr. Crane lifted up a hand and interlocked his fingers with Harley's.
"He wants the serum to last twelve hours."
"Can you do that?" Dr. Crane spun around.
"Of course I can do that, but I have no way of testing it to make sure it won't kill. I can't sit with an inmate in the interview room for twelve hours." Dr. Crane freed himself from Harley's grasp and marched into the bedroom. He sat down on the edge, loosened his tie and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Seriously, how have you not killed him?"
Harley smiled weakly and sat beside her doctor, her hands folded in her lap. They sat in silence, both trying to devise plans of appeasement. It was Harley that broke the quiet with her soft and unusually reserved voice.
"Test it on me." Dr. Crane lifted his head from his hands.
"What did you say?"
Harley turned completely to her doctor. "Test it on me; here."
"It could kill you."
"We're both dead if we don't produce."
Dr. Crane turned to Harley and took her hand in his, laying another soft kiss on her knuckles. "My beautiful Harley. You are truly afraid of nothing."
