The hot water, mixed with shampoo, cascaded down his sore body as he rinsed his short hair, rubbing his hands through it. He turned back, breathing in the steam that helped to clear his sinuses. It had been a long day, and because of that his body and mind were exhausted. Under the constant rush of water, his muscles relaxed, and he allowed his mind to wander.

The peace ended abruptly as the bathroom door slammed open. "All right-y, Bleak, Mistah J's asking for yah!" a high-pitched female voice shrieked.

"What the Hell, woman!" he shouted back. "I'm taking a shower!"

"Yeah? So? You gonna use that excuse when you face Mistah J because you are late?"

"Get out." A petite hand reached in around the curtain toward the nozzle. Fury raced through him at the sight, and he snapped his hand down on the small wrist.

"Hey!" the woman protested, and she ripped open the shower curtain. He stood there, his eyes blazing as he glared at the woman.

"I told you to get out, Harleen," he said, his tone hard.

Harleen Quinzel squinted at him. "Mistah J asked for you to pick him up."

"Don't make me repeat myself. Get. Out."

She pursed her lips. "Fine. Hurry up." She moved her arm, and he released her. He waited until she had closed the bathroom door behind her before he shut off the water. She had broken the calming spell of the shower, and knowing she was in his apartment, he couldn't relax.

He stepped out and proceeded to dry himself off, dressing in a t-shirt and jeans. Glancing into the mirror as he passed it, he noticed how scraggly he looked since he was interrupted before he had the chance to shave. "Thanks, Harleen. You suck, get a damn license and drive him yourself."

"I have one!" she yelled back. "I don't have a car!"

"Well, get one!" He took a moment and peered at his reflection a bit closer. The bags under his eyes showed darker than they probably had ever been. He sighed, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and left the bathroom to find Harleen sitting on his couch. He raised an eyebrow at her dressed in black dress and a white doctor's coat, customarily wore at Arkham by the head psychiatrists – which she used to be before she grew too close to her favorite patient. "Come on," he said, grabbing his jacket and keys on his way out.

Dean Ledger ignored Harleen on the way to the car and most of the drive, except when she, in her shrilly voice, shriek directions. Otherwise, he focused on driving, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, constantly brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He had been debating whether or not to get it cut, but he thought he would ask someone before he did. He had someone particular in mind and thinking about her made him smile.

"Why are yah smiling?" Harleen demanded suddenly, breaking through his thoughts. He heaved an exasperated sigh. "Do you think it's funny that Mistah J's not escaping on time?"

"If you knew him, you'd understand that 'Mistah J' is never on a normal timetable."

She glared. "He's going to punish you."

"What you say he's going to do and what he actually does are two different things."

"I've been his psychiatrist. I know him better than he knows himself. I'm in charge of him."

Dean chuckled, to which she demanded to know what was so funny. "No one's in charge of the Joker. He's the Joker. He's his own boss."

"So says you, one of his lowly henchmen."

"Lowly?" Dean thought for a moment, and then glanced at her, grinning. "I know you are, but what am I?"

"I just said. A lowly henchman."

"I know you are, but what am I?" She pursed her lips for the second time. "Keep doing that. It's only a matter of time that you pull a muscle."

"I'm gonna tell Mistah J about this, and he'll punish you double."

Dean grinned. "All right, have fun, tell him all you like. We'll see who gets punished." In his perphial vision, he saw Harleen stick out her tongue, like a small child. He shook his head and turned down Tower Road. He blinked against the flashing blue and red lights, coming from several cop cars blocking the street.

"Great," he murmured.

"Oh no, oh no," Harleen said quickly, repeating it over and over again.

"Harleen, shut up and calm down," Dean ordered, shutting her up instantly with his tone. "It could be a car wreck or something."

"Or they know what we're doing."

"Chill out." Dean rolled his eyes, brushing his black hair back. He pulled up along the sidewalk and parked, stepping out of the car.

"Where are you going?" Harleen demanded, her eyes wide with panic.

"Just asking what's going on." He slammed the door shut and walked over to the nearest cop.

"You can't drive down this way, sir," the cop said as Dean approached.

"I was only wondering how far down this road the blockage is."

"Sir, where are you going? We may be able to help you find an alternative route." Dean named off a place down the street, and the cop proceeded to give him directions. He only half-listened, taking quick glances around to find out the reason why the cops were there. It surprised him to spot a woman he recognized, arguing with a somewhat chubby cop. "You got all that?" the cop asked, drawing Dean's attention back.

"Yes, thank you for your help, officer," he said. "Have a good night." The officer nodded, and Dean turned away, heading back toward the car.

"What did you do? Did you tell them? Oh, you had better not have told them!"

"Relax," Dean said, shutting her up. He turned around and drove an alternative route, not the one that the officer gave him. Thankfully, Harleen kept her mouth shut as he drove. He wouldn't have heard her regardless; his mind wandered, but in a few seconds, it focused on the person he recognized.

"Right here," Harleen said, pointing off to the side. Dean sighed, parking along the back alley entrance. He drummed his thumb on the wheel as Harleen stepped out, leaning against the car in wait for the Joker. Dean rolled his eyes, content with being free from her for how long the wait would be.

Unfortunately, the wait wasn't long enough. The minor bit of peace Dean enjoyed shattered when a purple-clad figure stepped out and sauntered toward the vehicle.

"Mista J," Harleen shrilled, "I missed yah." She jumped toward him, but he held out an arm, keeping her at a distance. She persisted all the way to the car. Dean resisted the strong urge to laugh, or even to smile. The urge vanished when he heard a good smack, and Harleen stepped away from the Joker, a hand covering her cheek, whimpering.

"Shut up, Harley," he growled. "I don't care, you're late."

"But it's his fault!" she protested.

"Still don't care." He opened the passenger door and climbed in quickly, slamming it to drive home that he didn't want to deal with her. "Drive, Bleak," he ordered, as Harley stepped into the backseat. She moved quicker when she overheard him so when Dean pulled into the street, she was already in.

"Go around to the front."

"What?" Harleen shrieked.

"Shut up, Harley," the Joker said, "Wasn't talking to you. Bleak, around the front."

"May I ask why?" Dean asked.

"I forgot someone." Turning his head slightly, the Joker added, "A woman." Harleen made a sound in the backseat, and once again, the Joker told her to be quiet. Dean shook his head and drove around to the front of the building. A woman dressed completely in black approached the car as Dean pulled up, and as soon as she climbed into the backseat, he continued driving.

"Now that I get another favor," the woman said, unaware that Harleen sat in the back with her.

"Of course, Raven," the Joker said. "You have yet to use the other three."

"Are you in debt?" Dean asked, unable to stop himself from smirking. The Joker placed his hand behind Dean's head, and something clicked close to his ear. "Got it, boss," he said.

"Dr. Quinzel?" Dean glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing Raven staring intently at the other woman in the backseat. "Joker, you are not seriously getting involved with her."

The Joker didn't respond. Dean took a quick look to see him curling his hand into a fist, tapping his knuckles against the window.

"Harleen, what do you have to say for yourself?" Raven said, like she was speaking to a child who had done something bad.

"You're not my mother," Harleen replied, stiffly.

"You were a respectable doctor before you fell to his level."

"That was low," Dean murmured, inaudible to either of the women, but he felt the bite of the Joker's blade underneath his ear.

"The only reason I'm not considered 'respectable' is because everyone else couldn't get underneath the thick layers that Mistah J created to protect the vulnerable him deep inside." Dean tried not to clear his throat too loudly.

"There is no 'vulnerable'-."

"Yes, there is. You, like all the others, couldn't treat him like the human being that he is." Harleen smiled sweetly at Raven. "Unlike you, I could do what needed to be done for him." She reached forward to place her hands possessively on the Joker's shoulders. He purposely leaned forward, as if sensing what she was doing, and pretended he needed something from the glove compartment.

"And you willingly fell for him, giving up your opportunity." Raven shook her head. "You're wasted."

"Watch what you say, Teresa," Harleen said. Then, a smirk curled over her lips. "Or should I say Raven, Scarecrow's squeeze?"

"Ex-cuse me?"

"I know all about you and him." Harleen flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Believe me. I can get what I want, information and more, out of Mistah J, when I want it."

Dean scoffed. "More like he gives you what he thinks you need when he wants to give it." Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the Joker grinning slightly at his comment.

However, the Joker turned his head, catching him looking. He gave Dean a quick rap at the back of his head. "You know where Raven lives," he whispered while the two women continued to speak angrily in the backseat.

"Are you implying I'm a stalker or something?" Dean asked, following the Joker's example and whispering back.

The Joker flashed him a menacing grin. "What would-dah make you think that? Tell me, what's new in Gotham?"

Dean arched an eyebrow but didn't turn to show it. "A new detective caught the cat burglar."

"When?"

"A short while ago."

"Word travels fast, or you have ears everywhere."

"No, I had to drive around the damn crime scene. The news was hard to miss"

The Joker shook his head. "Ruin the moment that temporarily places you in the spotlight, Bleak."

"What spotlight?" Harleen asked all of a sudden.

"Nothing, Harley," the Joker said quickly. He stared at Dean intently until he turned his attention to him. "By the way, don't call her by her name. She's Harley Quinn now."

"Nice," Dean commented, "A play on Harleen Quinzel, making her a harlequin." He turned his attention back to the road. "Nice play on words, boss."

The Joker's blade tapped against his ear before he withdrew it. Dean checked the rearview mirror, seeing Raven glaring out the window and Harleen – Harley – shifting restlessly. He noticed Harley's hands kept moving toward the Joker's seat, but withdrawing quickly. Looking forward, Dean allowed himself an amused smile.

"You disobeyed orders."

"Yes, sir, but-."

"You. Dis-obeyed. Orders." I shut my mouth and exhaled slowly, my eyes fixed on the Commissioner. His face was tight, his eyes unwavering. "Of all people who work under me, I expected more from you."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed my orders and handed the paperwork I assigned you over to Officer Kent. What do you have to say for yourself?" I said nothing, my eyes still on his, but I rubbed my knuckles nervously, waiting.

Realizing I didn't plan to speak, Gordon sighed, pulled off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes taken away from mine, I watched my hands as I wringed them, wishing I wasn't here, wishing I could go. But Gordon wasn't finished with me.

"McKinley," he said, wearily, and I looked up. He sat down in his chair, pressing his palms into his eyes for a moment before catching my eyes again. "You are an exceptional detective, one of few I can trust-."

"With all due respect, Commissioner, I'm the last you should trust," I interrupted. He arched a gray eyebrow, and I leaned back in my chair, biting my lip.

"Your work effort has been excellent, and you've always followed orders without argument. You're focused, sharp and take note of the details. You, as a detective, have done very well during your time here." I smiled slightly, but it faded when Gordon began shaking his head. "However, since you've become Murphy's partner, you've changed."

"For better, or worse?" I asked, unable to keep quiet.

"Mostly, for the better. You are still keen as ever, but you've begun revealing some part of your personality that I have the feeling you've been hiding for most of your time here. You have quite a temper."

"Which I apologize for, Commissioner," I said. I waited, expecting him to continue speaking, but he lifted his head slightly, waiting for me to continue instead. "It isn't my place to argue, but now that I'm a detective, my opinion, I would think, matters as much as anyone else's here. I agree that my temper tends to get the better of me, and it's been getting me into trouble of late."

"Yes, it has," he agreed, "But, that doesn't mean you should always allow it to do that. I understand that you've been seeing a psychiatrist."

"Not an official one." His eyebrow rose again. "She's a friend," I explained. "She offered for me to come talk to her, should I need to."

"Well, at least you're talking to someone, although I'd feel more comfortable with you speaking to the department's psychiatrist."

"I have a hard time trusting a stranger. It took me time to get used to mine."

Gordon sighed and leaned forward slightly. "You understand that I do not appreciate you having disregarded my orders."

"Yes," I said, honestly.

"Good, because when you come back, you'll be working with the paperwork again." I resisted the urge to groan in despair. "It should teach you a lesson."

"No doubt about that," I mumbled. Before he could ask if I wished to repeat myself, I asked, "When you say 'come back', you mean tomorrow?"

"You still have today off. I expect you here, in my office, tomorrow night. You'll be remaining on night shift, doing paperwork."

"Until when?"

"Until you've learned your lesson."

I sighed as I left the Commissioner's office, attempting to access how I was feeling. It proved difficult to do when I nearly walked straight into Bullock. I looked up at him, seeing his smug smirk on his face.

"So," he began, "You leaving?"

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" I sneered, grudgingly. I tried to walk around him, but he moved over, blocking my way.

"I suppose Gordon put into consideration the fact you caught the cat burglar," he said, bitterly.

"Maybe, but he is punishing me. I'm not getting any special treatment." I stepped to the right, and Bullock moved with me.

"How is he punishing you? Making you do more paperwork? As if that's not special treatment."

I glared at him. "What, by your definition, would be considered punishment?"

"Taking you off the force and sending you back to where you came from."

"Again, you would like that, wouldn't you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"

"Threatening? No, that's not a threat. It's called being hostile, to which you started it. Now, get out of my way." I stepped to the side again, but he followed me. "Bullock, if you don't get out of my way-."

"Continue and you are threatening me." I inhaled sharply, to which he smirked.

"Bullock, allow her to pass." I exhaled with exasperation at the sound of Jason's voice. "She needs to get home."

Bullock huffed and stepped aside for me to walk past him. Once he had moved, I hurriedly walked by and veered around Jason who almost blocked me the same way Bullock had. "Might want to go after her before she hurts someone," I heard Bullock tell Jason, and I clenched my hands tightly, forcing myself to focus on getting to Murphy's office.

I almost reached the door when Jason caught my arm.

"Hey, congrats, McKinley," he said.

"Thanks," I replied curtly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He gently tugged on my arm and then released me. Instantly realizing he wanted me to look at him, I took the chance and slipped into Murphy's office. He wasn't there, much to my relief, so I grabbed my jacket. Turning, I stopped, finding Jason blocking the door.

"Sorry about Bullock," he said. I rolled my eyes; he thought I was irritated because Bullock hadn't allowed me by. "Are you joining the party?" he asked, trying to be cool, casual.

"No." I didn't know there was a party, but I certainly didn't want to go. I tried to shove my way past him, but he didn't move. I raised my eyes and coldly said, "Get out of the way, Hawkins."

"What's gotten into you? You should be happy, like the rest of the force. They're all excited that someone managed to capture a super-criminal."

"Oh, sure, celebrate the arrest of one out of, how many?" I replied, sarcastically.

"There's nothing against the force celebrating after one."

"I'm sure you mean there's no point."

"Seriously, Jane, what's wrong with you?" Jason demanded, losing his patience. "Is it your punishment for disobeying orders? Gordon knows you're worth having; he knows you have the skills and talent for being a detective. He'll give you a slap on the wrist."

"More like a slap of paperwork."

"That's still better than getting kicked off the force." I scoffed. "Tell me, Jane. Is it because of Bullock being a jerk, because that's normal and I can handle it for you."

"No," I snapped, "I don't want you to handle Bullock. You 'handling' Bullock is only one factor."

"One factor?"

I threw my hands up with exasperation. "You are so clueless. I can take care of myself. I don't need you, or anyone else, stepping up and defending me. I caught a super-criminal singlehanded."

"Whoa, Jane, calm down."

"Screw calming down!" I screamed, suddenly losing what very little control I had. "Get out of my way!"

Without a word, he obeyed, and I still shoved past him, hoping to drive home the message that I didn't want anything to do with him.

"You haven't grown up at all, have you?"

I stopped and slowly turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

Jason lifted his chin, trying to look superior. "You heard me. You're doing the same thing as last time. Getting angry and blaming everything on me."

"You deserved it now," I told him, heatedly. "And you probably deserved it then."

He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it. I threw him a smirk and then turned on my heel, disappearing around the corner.

As I hurried toward the back exit, I could hear the party that Jason mentioned in process. Even if I had been in the mood, I still wouldn't have gone. The noise, which could be heard outside, would have set me on edge, if I wasn't already. I didn't want company so walking home alone in the light drizzling rain wouldn't bother me.

I shoved my hands in my pockets after turning up my collar against the wind. It annoyed me to no end that Jason jumped at every opportunity that he could to retrieve a "favor" from me. I knew how to stand my own ground against men like Bullock; there was no way I would enslave myself to that prick Hawkins.

Merely thinking about him infuriated me, causing me to quicken my pace, taking no notice of my surroundings. I didn't even see the woman until I had bumped into her. She stumbled and dropped her coffee, spilling it all over the ground. She managed to jump out of the way, avoiding getting it all over her, but I didn't react as fast and got some of the hot liquid on my pant leg.

"Watch where you're going," the woman snapped angrily.

Hissing in pain, I retorted, "Don't get in my way then."

"Excuse me? I was standing here, and you bumped into me."

"Don't stand there."

The woman glared at me. "You're a bitch."

"You know what," I said, grabbing my wallet. "Here, buy yourself another one." I slapped a ten into her hand and then started away. "And you can keep the bitch's change." I hurried away and flew around the corner before she could respond to that.

Lordlink13: Well, Hawkins sure is being a pain in everyone's ass. Chapter ten is up. Feel free to review.