She stared at him. "Batman?" she repeated. "Are you sure?"
He nodded. "Got a good look at him. Just like I'm sure he did at me."
He stormed over to where he had thrown his clothes, dressing hurriedly. "I gotta get outta here," he muttered.
"And go where?" asked Harley.
"I dunno," he retorted. "But if Batman knows I'm here, I can't stay."
"Then I'll come with you," she said, reaching for her own clothes.
"No!" he said, firmly, seizing her in his arms. "I don't want to put you in danger…"
"It's a little late for that, if Batman's seen me with you," she interrupted. "He's gonna know I'm connected to you in some way, and since he kinda saw us naked in bed together, I'm sure he can figure out what way that is. How long do you think it's gonna be before I'm hauled off to the nearest police station and interrogated?"
"You could tell them I forced you," he muttered. "That you're an innocent victim…"
"I don't want to be a victim, Jack," she interrupted. "I want to help you. I want to be…your partner."
He grinned. "Partner, eh?" he asked. "If you mean partner in crime, I think it's kinda a one-sided relationship. You're gonna need a lotta training…"
"I mean partner in every sense of that word," she said, smiling at him.
He shook his head. "Harley, you've done enough for me. I can't ask you to give up your job, everything you've worked for…"
"I think it's kinda too late for that, Jack," she murmured. "Batman's made any other choice impossible, aside from giving you up. And I'm not gonna do that. No matter what else happens, I'm staying with you," she said sincerely, gazing up at him.
He smiled. "How did I get to be so lucky?" he murmured, kissing her. "All right, pack a bag," he said, releasing her and finishing dressing. "We'll get outta here and head to one of my hideouts, that hopefully Batman doesn't know about."
"You're right, Jack, he's clearly a bit of a nutcase," said Harley, gathering her clothes. "Not to mention a pervert."
"Ya got that right, toots," he agreed.
"How did he know you were here?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Probably followed some kinda invisible blood trail that only he could track or something. He's known as the World's Greatest Detective, you know."
"Yeah, but why did it take him so long?" asked Harley. "You think if there was a blood trail, he would have followed it while it was still fresh?"
Jack shrugged again. "Who knows how his mind works? Crazy, y'know."
"Well, I'm a psychiatrist, and I can't figure him out," she retorted. "So he must be a little more than crazy."
"What about me?" he asked, seizing her in his arms again and nuzzling her neck. "You can tell I'm a little more than crazy about you, right?"
"Mmm, I'm getting that impression," she murmured, kissing him. "C'mon, let's take my car."
"Where are we going?" she asked, as Jack directed her driving.
"There's this disused chemical factory just outside of town, a little place called Ace Chemicals," he said. "It's abandoned, but all the vats and chemicals and stuff are still there."
"That doesn't sound like a great place to hang out," said Harley. "What with the fumes and all…"
"Yeah, it keeps people away though," he agreed. "And it's fine if you stay in the manager's office – it's pretty isolated away from the rest of the factory. I don't think even Batman will check there. We lie low there for a couple of weeks, at least until I'm fully healed, then we work on rebuilding the gang, and retaking the ground I've lost as a criminal by being absent."
"Do you really think I'll make a good criminal?" asked Harley, nervously. "I mean, I've never really done anything illegal before…"
"I think you're gonna be a natural," he said, kissing her cheek. "You've got the potential to be a very bad girl, from what I can tell."
Harley smiled at him. The stoplight in front of her changed to red, but she sped up, racing through anyway. "How's that for bad, Jack?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Not bad for a beginner, kiddo!" he laughed. "You've got lotsa potential!"
Jack opened the door to the chemical factory and led Harley past the bubbling vats, climbing up the stairs to the platform suspended above them. A sickly green glow pervaded the entire huge, shadowy room. It gave Harley the creeps.
Jack pushed open the door to the manager's office and shut out the green light. "Not too bad, huh?" he said, gesturing around at the moth-eaten bed and decaying furniture.
Harley looked at him. "You expect me to stay here for a couple weeks?"
"Well, it ain't the Ritz," he agreed. "But with you here, it seems like home."
She grinned, kissing him. "You're sweet, Jack," she whispered. "You might even be worth staying in this dingy rat trap for."
He sat down on the bed, hissing as he adjusted his leg. Harley helped him raise it up on the mattress, reaching into her bag for some bandages. "The pain means it's healing," she said.
"Must be healing real good," he muttered. "Can't hate it, though. It's what brought me to you, after all."
"Mmm, what a romantic story," she murmured, grinning. "Gangster gets shot and climbs through my window and ends up winning my heart."
"Yeah, was it my beautiful wound, or my impressive criminal record that made you think I was quite the catch?" he asked, smiling back.
"Both," she agreed, dressing his wound. "I thought it's not every day that a guy like that just climbs into my room. Might as well dump the billionaire and run off with him to a filthy hideout instead."
"It does sound kinda crazy, huh?" he asked.
"Uh huh," she agreed. "But I guess love is kinda meant to be. That's why I trust it."
She kissed him again. "Now how about I try to make you feel better?" she whispered, grinning.
He chuckled as she climbed on top of him. "Oh, kiddo, I like the sound of that," he whispered, pulling her down into his arms.
…
"Master Bruce!" exclaimed Alfred, as Batman climbed out of the Batmobile, clutching his shoulder. Blood coated his hand, dripping down the bat symbol on his chest.
"It's fine, Alfred," he muttered. "Just a scratch. The armor stopped the bullet from penetrating."
"How did this happen, sir?" asked Alfred, hurrying to fetch some bandages. Batman sat down, taking off his mask to reveal the face of Bruce Wayne.
"I…went to go check on Harley," he muttered. "Harvey told me that she's seeing another guy…some criminal, he thinks, only she doesn't know it. And when I got to her apartment, I found her…"
He trailed off, shutting his eyes. "I found her…in bed with Jack Napier," he muttered.
"Jack Napier?" repeated Alfred. "The gangster who escaped during that bank robbery you stopped?"
"Yeah," muttered Bruce. "He was shot, but he must have…he must have hidden that or…lied or…pretended to be a victim to play on her sympathies. I…I don't know how he found Harley, or deceived her, but he's…obviously pulled the wool over her eyes completely. Criminals are cunning like that. There's no other explanation for why an incredible woman like Harley would sleep with…a guy like that."
Alfred said nothing, tending to his wound. "I have to save her, Alfred," he muttered. "She doesn't know who she's dealing with, a monster like Napier. He's the one who shot me – he's obviously going to make up some lie to tell her – that I'm persecuting him or something, and that he has to leave and go into hiding. He might try to convince her to come with him, or kidnap her, and she won't know until it's too late…"
He shut his eyes again. "I don't want to see her dead," he muttered. "I've lost too many people I care about to crime in Gotham already." He looked up at Alfred. "I swear I won't rest until Harley is safe from Jack Napier," he murmured. "However it takes."