"Are you feeling better today, Jonathan?" asked Harleen gently. It had been a week since the Joker's escape, and very little had changed. Harleen still found herself plagued by reporters to and from work – Dr. Baker had given them more lurid details about her supposed relationship with the Joker, and she heard shouts of "Hey, Harley Quinn!" wherever she went. It was awful, and she still missed the Joker terribly, but there were some positive developments too. Ivy and she had become fast friends, and Crane was out of the infirmary and able to resume his sessions. He still looked worse for wear, but he could at least speak now.
"It's difficult to tell when your entire body feels like it's been broken into a million pieces," sighed Crane, adjusting his bandaged arm. "But yes, I suppose I am."
"I'm so sorry about what happened," said Harleen. "I didn't know Batman was…that much of a bully."
"Well, I did try to warn you he was a lunatic," he snapped. "But all is forgiven, my dear. The most galling part, of course, is that I went through all that pain in the interests of science, and I don't even have a result to show for it. You prevented me from testing my experiment. I do hope you're happy."
"I still don't think it's right to terrorize and kill innocent people…" began Harleen.
"But your paramour does," he retorted. "How can you have anything to do with a man whose basic beliefs differ so greatly from your own?"
"Look, the Joker and I…" began Harleen, angrily. She felt like she constantly had to defend her actions to everyone, and it was starting to get annoying. But then she supposed she had to cut Crane some slack – he had been confined to the infirmary for a long time. She sighed. "There's nothing…between the Joker and me," she murmured. "We kissed in a…moment of passion, but…that's as far as it went. And I chose not to go with him when he escaped. I doubt he'll want to see me again."
"Well, that's wonderful!" exclaimed Crane, happily.
Harleen stared at him. "How…is it wonderful?" she stammered. "I miss him a lot."
"I just mean that it's probably better that you…turn your interests toward other men," said Crane. "There are plenty of fish in the sea, my dear."
"Yeah," agreed Harleen. "I guess so."
"Just trust me, my dear – in the long run, you'll be much better off without…"
But Crane was interrupted by the door being thrown open. "The Joker!" exclaimed the guard. "They've got him!"
"Oh…excuse me, Jonathan!" gasped Harleen, jumping to her feet and racing out into the hall. There was once again quite a crowd gathered in the lobby, but Harleen pushed her way determinedly to the front just as the doors banged open and Batman dragged in the Joker.
He was battered and beaten almost to the point of unconsciousness. Blood and bruises decorated his face, and his smile was twisted into a grimace of pain. Batman shoved him forward and he collapsed. Harleen dived down to catch him, cradling his broken body gently. "Oh God," she whispered, tears trailing down her face. "Oh God, what has he done to you?"
His swollen eyes focused on her. "Harley?" he whispered, trying to raise a hand to touch her face.
She shushed him, stroking his hair back. "No, don't speak," she whispered. "Just try to relax. I'm here now. Everything's gonna be ok."
"Such a tender display, wouldn't you say?" sighed Dr. Baker, and Harleen looked up to see several cameras suddenly flashing at her.
"Get those reporters outta here!" she shrieked at the guards.
"That won't be necessary, Dr. Quinzel," said Dr. Bartholomew, gesturing the guards forward. "We'll just relieve you of your distraction. Take him to the infirmary," he said, nodding at the guards.
They obeyed, grabbing the Joker and pulling him away from Harleen, who clutched at him desperately. "No!" she screamed. "He needs me! He needs me!"
She raced after the guards until they reached the infirmary, where the physician slammed the door in her face. Sobbing, Harleen collapsed into a heap on the floor, crying her heart out.
"Harley Quinn, if we could just get a statement…" said a reporter who had followed her, but she lashed out suddenly, hitting his camera and shattering the lens.
"I am not Harley Quinn!" she screamed. "Now leave me alone!"
Shocked by her violence, the other reporters hurried off, leaving her to her tears.
…
That night, all was quiet in the asylum. The infirmary was empty of all doctors and nurses – they went home during the evenings and left the patients to fend for themselves. The Joker was lying in one of the beds, trying to whistle out a tune through his broken teeth. He frowned. "I used to be able to hit that F sharp," he muttered, trying to whistle the note again. "Stupid Bat taking away my musical talents."
He heard the door to the infirmary open and close suddenly. "That better not be a reporter!" he shouted. "Boy, you guys are persistent! I keep shooting you in the head and you keep sending more! For the last time, I have never had a relationship with Dr. Quinzel! And I have no wish to ever have a relationship with Dr. Quinzel!"
"Oh…ok," said a quiet voice by his bed. "I guess I'll just…go."
"Harley?" he gasped, sitting up suddenly. He hissed in pain as his rib dug into flesh. "What are you doing here?"
"I…wanted to see how you were," she murmured, taking a seat next to him. "But they wouldn't let me anywhere near you during the day. So I decided to sneak in tonight. How are you feeling?"
"As great as I look!" he chuckled. "But it ain't the first time the Bat's beaten me into a pulp, and it certainly won't be the last!"
"It's awful," she murmured, gazing at him with tears in her eyes. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Ain't your fault," he said, shrugging and wincing in pain.
"Maybe I could have prevented it if I had…come with you," she murmured.
He smiled. "Well, if ifs and buts were candy and nuts, wouldn't it be a Merry Christmas?" he laughed. "Anyway, getting dragged back here wasn't so bad. I get to see you again, anyway," he said, reaching for her hand. "I've been thinking about you a lot."
"Yeah?" asked Harleen, hopefully. "I've been thinking about you a lot too, Mr. J."
He stared at her. "What did you just call me?"
She blushed. "Sorry, it's just…a pet name I use…when I think about you…sometimes."
"I like it," he said, grinning. "Got any other pet names you use when you think about me…sometimes?" he asked, brushing his hand lightly against her fingers.
She grinned. "It's silly…"
"No, c'mon, tell me," he encouraged.
"I…uh…really like calling you…puddin'," she stammered.
"Puddin'?" he repeated, making a face. "Nah, I hate it. Don't use that one ever again. It's awful."
"Oh…ok, Mr. J," she murmured. "You…uh…seen the papers, huh?"
"What, that whole you and me story?" he asked. "Yeah, I've seen it, Harley Quinn," he murmured, grinning.
"Please don't call me that," she snapped.
"Actually, I really like it," he said. "It's kinda cute. Suits you. Much better than Dr. Quinzel, anyway."
"Well, you can call me…whatever you want," stammered Harleen.
"Yeah?" he said, grinning. "Harley Quinn?"
She nodded. "Pumpkin pie? Pooh bear? Cupcake?" he continued.
She giggled. "Yeah, I really like all those."
"My lover?" he murmured.
She shuddered at the way he said it. "W…what?" she whispered.
"Can I call you my lover?" he murmured. "Harley Quinn, the Joker's lover?"
"But…but I ain't your lover, Mr. J," she stammered. "The papers have made all that up…I ain't…we ain't never…"
He put his hand against her lips, silencing her. "You wanna be my lover?" he murmured. "Because I would like nothing better, kid. You do something to me. It makes me feel crazy. And I like it."
"Oh…God, Mr. J!" she gasped. "I…I feel the same way! And of course I wanna be your lover, only we can't…I mean, not here!"
"No, I'm in no fit state for it either!" chuckled Joker, wincing in pain again. "But you know what you should do, Harley? You should get me out of here. We can head back to my hideout together. And we can be together forever."
"It sounds…too good to be true," she murmured, staring at the floor. He tilted her chin up.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I…I just don't know…if I can trust you," she whispered, tears trailing down her face. "I mean, you asked me to help you escape on my first day. How do I know this isn't some big act just to get me to do that? And then dispose of me when I've outlived my usefulness? I mean, my heart tells me to believe you, but…it told me to believe Tim too. I just don't wanna…be lied to again…"
"Hey," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm the Joker. If I am just using you, I promise you I'll shoot you nice and quick when you've outlived your usefulness. You'll never see it coming. Or you can stay here and die a slow death, crushing your spirit into the ground through years of dull, difficult, pointless labor. I know which one I'd rather gamble my life on."
"I wish I was like you, Mr. J," she murmured. "I wish I wasn't afraid of anything. But I am."
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
"Pain," she whispered. "Being hurt, being hated, being…unloved."
He kissed her tenderly. "You come with me," he whispered. "And you won't be afraid of any of those things again. I can teach you not to be afraid of pain, Harley. I can teach you to love it and laugh at it, like I do. I can teach you not to care what anybody thinks of you. I can teach you to be free of fear, just like I am. See, it's actually a pretty simple solution."
"What is it?" asked Harleen.
He grinned. "Go crazy," he whispered. "It's so simple, and so easy to do. One little push, and your life is suddenly a roller coaster fun ride, every day a new and exciting thrill! Every day full of joy and laughter and…love. If you come with me."
He squeezed her hand tightly. "See, the thing about crazy is, everyone underestimates you. They think you're stupid. You're not stupid. But it's great that everyone thinks you are, because they never see it coming. You learn to relish their contempt, because it proves they're the idiots, not you. All those stupid, self-important, sane people with their meaningless little lives, when they don't know what it feels like to truly live for one second. Do you know what it feels like, Harley?"
"I did," she agreed. "When you kissed me."
He brought his mouth to hers again and she sighed in relief, needing it like she needed oxygen. Happiness was addictive, and he was her supplier of it. Only him.
"What do you say?" he murmured. "You wanna be my little Harley Quinn?"
"I don't wanna be…someone they made me," stammered Harleen. "I don't wanna let 'em win like that."
"Oh yes, you do, baby!" he chuckled. "Because it ain't a victory on their part, trust me! You're gonna show 'em. You're gonna show 'em the monster they created, and they're gonna curse the day they ever took that name in vain. Harley Quinn will be a name whispered in fear and terror and dread, just like the Joker. And all those people who laughed at you, who mocked you…they're gonna regret it, baby. They're gonna laugh themselves to death, a horrible grin on their dead lips. That's the price they're gonna pay for making a joke outta you. And we're gonna make 'em pay together."
"Mr. J," whispered Harleen, kissing him deeply. "I love you."
She expected him to say it back, but he didn't. He just looked at her and grinned, and then started laughing. "You love me!" he chuckled. "What a great gag!"
"It's…not a gag," stammered Harleen.
"It is," he said, nodding. "I told you, the only things that matter in life are the jokes. So your love's gotta be a joke, 'cause it really matters to me."
"Do you…love me too?" she asked, hopefully.
He was silent. "Don't ever ask me to say it," he murmured, quietly. "I'll tell you in my own time, and my own way."
"Why don't you wanna say it?" she asked.
"I'm the Joker," he murmured. "You wouldn't know if I meant it."
She nodded slowly. "Do you believe I love you?" he murmured. She nodded again. "That's all that matters then," he said, kissing her tenderly.
Harleen drew away at last, and then held out a hand. "C'mon. Lean on my shoulder. I'm getting you outta here."
"Not worried about the guards, huh?" chuckled Joker, as he draped his arm over Harley's neck and leaned against her. "I admire your optimism."
"Don't worry about the guards," she said. "I had a couple friends of mine take care of them."
She opened the door to reveal the bodies of two guards lying on the ground, their faces contorted in terror. Further along, other guards were hanging from the walls and ceilings, their bodies tangled in vines which had choked the life outta them.
"You gotta tell Pammie I love the décor!" chuckled Joker as they hobbled along the empty corridor.
"You can tell her yourself," said Harleen, nodding into the lobby, where Poison Ivy and Jonathan Crane sat studying some monitors.
"I can't believe they haven't noticed that I've just looped back the same footage over and over again on my security camera," commented Crane.
"They didn't notice that mine's been covered by plants for the past two months," retorted Ivy. "I don't think they really care, Johnny."
"Did you guys find a car?" asked Harleen, entering with the Joker.
Ivy held up some keys. "One of the guards was kind enough to let us borrow his. He won't be needing it anymore, after all."
"Great. Let's get outta this dump," muttered Harleen, heading for the door still supporting the Joker.
"You got a great gal there, J," said Ivy as they went down the steps of the asylum into the parking lot. "You'd better treat her right, or you'll be answering to me."
"Yeah, I'm real scared of ya, Pammie," retorted Joker, as Harleen helped him into the backseat.
"You should be – I'm driving," she retorted, starting the engine. "I figure we'll drop you two off first, then Johnny and I can find somewhere to ditch the car. Where is your hideout these days, J?"
"Funnibone Shipping," he retorted. "Down by the dock. When you get near there, beep out Camptown Races on the horn, or the boys will start firing at ya."
"Guns are so vulgar," sighed Crane.
"Men are so vulgar," growled Ivy, pulling out of the parking lot and heading out into the street.
She pulled up by the docks, and the Joker's henchmen raced to help him out of the car. Harleen recognized the one who had attacked her, Moe – he looked even more surprised to see her than everyone else did.
"Thanks for the lift, Red," said Harley, slamming the door shut.
"Thanks for the escape, Harl," she replied, grinning. "Though someday we gotta go back to Arkham together and take out those sexist pigs in style."
"Not if me and Mr. J beat ya to it," said Harley, grinning. "Night, Red. Night, Johnny."
She waved at them until they drove off. "I'll take him," she said to the henchman who was currently supporting the Joker. She helped him lean against her again and then said, "Which way is our room?"
"Our room?" repeated Moe. "Who the hell do you think you are, sweetheart?"
She stared calmly back at him. "I'm Harley Quinn," she retorted. "The Joker's lover. Now kindly show us to our room."
"You'll wanna do what she says, Moe!" chuckled Joker. "Doctor's orders!"
Moe glared at her in hatred, but reluctantly let her into the hideout and led her down a dusty corridor. He opened the door to a large room, with a bed decorated in purple sheets, and clown memorabilia everywhere.
"This place could use a woman's touch," said Harleen, making her way carefully across the floor, and trying not to trip over or set off one of the toys. She lay Joker gently down on the bed.
"Thank you," she snapped at Moe. "You can leave us."
He obeyed, slamming the door shut. Harleen helped the Joker climb into bed, pulling the covers gently over him. "I'll just get you some…" she began, sitting up, but he pulled her back down into his arms.
"Stay," he murmured, shutting his eyes.
She beamed, cuddling into his embrace and shutting her own eyes. She felt his breathing grow heavier as he drifted off to sleep, his arms still wrapped firmly around her, and for the first time in her life, Harleen fell asleep with a smile on her face.