"She tries not to shatter, Kaleidoscope style
Personality changes behind her red smile"
Christine, Siouxsie and the Banshees
Harleen arrived home to find someone waiting at her door. She had a moment of fear that somehow she was in trouble for one of her recent assaults but the small red headed man at the door didn't really strike her as police force material.
"Dr. Quinzel?" He asked her when she walked up. He looked her over then rolled his eyes and shook his head a little. "Now I've seen everything." He mumbled to himself.
"Yes, I'm Dr. Quinzel, can I help you with something?" She asked warily.
"Can we talk inside? You're not really going to want the neighbors listening in on this." He didn't seem dangerous and she knew she really was, so she let him in.
"What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?" She sat her bags down but stayed near them in case see needed her bat.
"We have a mutual friend in common. He contacted me today and told me to come by and see you. He said you would be in need of my services soon. My name's Edward Nygma, perhaps he mentioned me?" He looked hopeful.
"No, I'm sorry Mr. Nygma, no one I know has mentioned you to me. If it's the person I'm thinking of then I wouldn't take it personally." She assumed he was talking about Mr. J. She didn't know a lot of people in Gotham and only one who would want his role in something kept quiet.
"Yeah, narcissistic sociopaths are funny that way." Nygma quipped. She just arched an eyebrow and stared at him.
"Don't worry, it's not anything I haven't said to his face before. Fortunately I have a very specialized set of skills that come in handy now and then so there's not much danger of me giving offense."
"Mr. Nygma, may I ask what you meant earlier when you said "Now I've seen everything"? Harleen asked.
"Oh you heard that did you? Well to be honest you just weren't what I was expecting. You don't strike me as being his type." He answered. Suddenly Harleen whipped her bat out of one of her shopping bags and jammed the tip of it into his chest hard enough he was thrown into the nearest wall. She stepped forward and pinned him where he was with the bat.
"Oh yeah, so who is his type then?" A maniacal giggle escaped her lips as she waited for an answer.
"I take it back, you two are perfect for each other. Sorry to give offense. If you could just let me go I really am here to help you out." He looked apologetic and a little afraid, Harleen was pleased to see. She lowered her bat and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"What is it you're here to help with?"
"Anything that can be done with a computer I can do. These days that's pretty much anything worth doing. I believe the service our friend thinks you might be interested in is my digital erasure package. As far as digital information goes I make you disappear. It'll be like there never even was a Doctor Harleen Quinzel. At least not in any digital files. Was he right?" He waited while she thought over what he was offering her. She could definitely see the advantage of doing it and it explained why the police weren't able to match any of the Joker's information to Jack.
"Can I think about it? I'm not sure I'm ready yet."
"Sure. Here, if you decide to do it text the word 'riddle' to this number." He said while handing her a business card with nothing but a phone number on it. "That number's only good for 24 hours, if it takes longer than that for you decide, he'll know how to get ahold of me."
He headed towards the door and then turned back towards her, "Be sure, once it's done there's no going back. If it makes a difference he's never asked me to do this for anyone else besides himself."
"Thanks, that does help." Harleen smiled at him. "No hard feelings about the thing with the bat?"
"I should have been ready for it, you fooled me with the whole sexy psychologist look." He winked at her and walked out the door.
He was a funny looking little man but Harleen thought she might like him. She couldn't help but be excited that Joker had sent him over. This was like the super villain version of an invitation to run off and elope she thought. Why else erase her from all official records? Still, if she did it there was no going back. If he didn't actually want to be with her she might as well be dead as far as the rest of the world was concerned. Of course if he didn't want her she'd rather he just kill her, she was too far gone in her obsession with him to consider living without him. Thinking about the idea he might not want her suddenly made her feel weighed down with worry. She had so much to think about: Mr. Nygma's offer, how little she cared about the fact she had killed someone an hour ago and integrating her two selves. On top of that her tattoo was starting to hurt again. She decided to take some ibuprofen and lay down for a while.
Harley fell asleep quickly and started dreaming though she felt strangely aware of what was happening and in control of her consciousness. Lucid dreaming, she thought this was called. It had happened to her before once or twice. Now she was in her childhood bedroom except it wasn't really. The room was split in half with the dividing line cutting across a child's table she was seated at. She was having a tea party and staring across from her was her other self. Her body and face were still Harleen's but instead of having blond hair her hair was black on one side and red on the other. It was divided down the center into two high pig tails. It was cuter on her than Harleen would have expected. Her face was covered in white grease paint like the Joker wore though more carefully applied. She wore a black mask around her eyes and black lipstick. Her outfit was an absurd pairing of a tiny corset and even tinier shorts, again black on one side and red on the other. Everything on her side of the table and room was dark, black, and morbid while on Harleen's side it was bright, light and pink. Harleen's half of the room was neat and tidy with shelves covered in books and gymnastic trophies. Interestingly the bed was on her side of the room but the closet was on the other. She could see weapons of all sorts spilling out of it and what looked like a hand, a dead person's hand. She stopped trying to see further into the closet and looked at the walls. They were covered in posters but instead of cute images appropriate for a little girl or even pictures of teen heartthrobs they were all posters of the Joker including an image of Harleen and the Joker's brief make out session. She looked back at their table. Each of them had a doll seated next to them, hers looked like Jack, her other had a Joker doll instead. Finally she looked back up at her other self and decided she should say something.
"Hello." It wasn't much but what she wasn't sure what else to say, she wasn't expecting to be having tea with her own alter ego.
"Hiya, Harleen! Seemed about time we had a little chat, dontcha think?" She replied, with a giggle. Her voice sounded similar to Harleen's but a little higher pitched and breathier. More childish.
"Um, sure. That's kind of what I've been trying to do today, listen to what you had to say. Do you have a name?"
"Harlequin, of course!" She said laughing again.
"But that's Mr. J's name for me or us I suppose." Harleen frowned.
"Whatever my Puddin' calls me, that's my name." She crossed her arms as though daring Harleen to challenge that.
"You call Mr. J Puddin'? I don't think he's going to like that very much." She smiled at the thought of someone calling the Joker by such a silly nickname.
"At least it's creative. You're so boring most of the time Harleen." Harlequin whined at her.
"Look, I don't want to fight with you, call him whatever you want. Just don't blame me if he kills us for any sappy nicknames you start calling him. Let's talk about why we're really here. You know I want to integrate, are you going to go along with that or are you going to fight me on it?"
"Well, I can't say I'm real thrilled by the idea but I think it might be our best choice. I mean I thought about just killin' ya off and takin' over but I think we might be more useful to Puddin' if ya stick around. We gotta agree to some terms though, I'm not gonna to go around kissin' any more muscle bound cops!"
"Don't worry, I don't want that either." Harleen shuddered a little at the thought. "What do you suggest for terms?"
"First of all we gotta do anything and everything Puddin' tells us to! We have to live for him and we have to be willing to die for him! He needs that, even if he doesn't know it." Harlequin's face was strained with passion as she expressed her most fervent desire.
"I don't disagree exactly but I'd alter it a bit. Sometimes we're going to have to disobey him to keep him safe. He's a sociopath, he has no regard for his own safety. He might tell us to do things that will get him hurt. Also I think if we're too obedient he might get bored with us." Harleen speculated.
"I promise he'll never find me boring. Can't be sure about you though." Harlequin smirked at her.
"Yeah but it's not going to be you and me, it'll be us. Just trust me. How about we say we will be loyal, loving and true to Mr. J and protect him above and beyond all other things? Is that good enough for you?"
"Yeah, that sounds pretty good. What else? There must be some stuff you want to say, you're always worrying and over thinking everything."
"Well, I think we've got to come to an agreement about this whole killing and violence thing." She hesitated and Harlequin jumped in before she could finish her thought.
"You heard what he wants Harleen, don't try to back out of it now. You killed someone an hour ago and you don't even feel a little bit bad about it so don't try foolin' me, sister!"
"No, I know. I'm not saying we have to stop, I just think we need some limitations and I feel pretty sure you don't have any. How about we agree that any violence Mr. J approves is ok but otherwise you have to try and keep it under control a little? We can't just go around killing everyone we meet. Mr. J wouldn't like it and it's just going to make things harder for us." Harleen reasoned.
"I don't like it but ok, I agree." Harlequin's face brightened after that as though she had just had a brilliant idea. "Third term, I get to choose our clothes. Puddin' needs someone who looks like she belongs at his side, not someone dressed like a sexy librarian."
Looking Harlequin up and down Harleen started shaking her head, "No, no, no. No way. I'm not dressing like that! Look at you, you're barely even covered!"
"I compromised on the first two, it's your turn!"
"Ok, how about this, we can go with your aesthetic but it has to be more practical than what you're wearing now. I mean if you want to prance around like that when you're alone with Mr. J ok but not out in public. Can you even do a cartwheel in that without giving the world a free show?" Harleen raised her head a little and looked superior. Harlequin wanted to smack her.
"Conceding that you have more experience with gravity and its effects on wardrobe I'll cover up a little more in public but I still get to choose what we wear."
"Ok." Harleen begrudgingly agreed. "Anything else? How about a name? We can't use both of them."
"Harlequin, it's what Puddin' calls us and that's all that matters." Harlequin argued stubbornly.
"No, it should be something new. Let's see⦠not Harleen, not Harlequin. I know, Harley Quinn!" Her eyes lit up.
"But Harley was what he called you. It might make my Puddin' angry if we use it." Harlequin bit her lip and looked concerned. Harleen did the same and for a moment they looked like bizarre reflections of one another. It was true, the only one who ever called her Harley was Jack. It still felt like the right name though.
"I don't think he will, not if it's Harley Quinn. We called ourselves Harley back at the store. I think that's who we really are when we work together on something. Didn't that feel like for the first time we were both doing what we wanted. Well other than when we kissed Mr. J." She blushed a little thinking about it.
"I still like Harlequin better but Harley Quinn's pretty close. I can live with it. Partners?" She reached her hand across the table to shake hands. Harleen reached out to do the same and as soon as their hands met she woke up.
"Wow! Did that really happen?" Harley laid in bed for a minute thinking over the dream. For the first time in two weeks she felt centered, not conflicted at all. She had accepted both sides of herself. It was done. She picked up her cell phone and sent a text. There was no going back now.
