Harley awoke to the sound of muffled voices coming from downstairs. She sat up and noticed that the bed was empty. That was unusual. She and Jack had been lying low for weeks now, and he only left the hideout occasionally to steal food. The rest of the time he spent with her, lying next to her, talking to her, holding her. She had woken up every morning to him softly kissing along the curve of her back, so that she was smiling before she even opened her eyes. So why wasn't he here to wake her up now?

Puzzled, she looked around for her clothes and began dressing hurriedly. The voices grew louder and clearer as she came down the stairs – one was Jack's, the other she had never heard before.

She saw Jack talking to a stout man in a suit. He looked up as he saw her and beamed. "Good morning, kiddo!" he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her. "Sweets, I'd like you to meet Chuckie Sol. He works for Sal Valestra. Chuckie, this is my doll, Harleen Quinzel."

Chuckie smiled. "Only you would be lucky enough to get arrested and end up with a hot dame like that!" he said. "Always said Jack Napier's the luckiest guy I know. Even after you got arrested, I said to the guys you'd bust out somehow. And not only did you bust out, you even got quite the consolation prize! Oh…uh…no disrespect, ma'am," he said, nodding at Harley. "I mean, you ain't a prize, you're a woman, so you ain't an object. But you are a prize in that you're…really beautiful. And you ain't a consolation prize – I mean, you're worth going to prison for. That's what I was trying to say. Hope I didn't offend you."

"Uh…no. I don't think a lotta woman are gonna be offended at being told they're really beautiful," said Harley, smiling.

"Chuckie has absolutely no social skills, but you'll learn to love him," said Jack, grinning.

"Boy, I tell ya, we were all watching the trial coverage on TV, and all the guys were rooting for you to get off, but that Dent is one good lawyer," continued Chuckie. "I mean, Buzz was pulling for him, of course, but he was the only one. Sal was mostly just worried about you talking. Buzz wanted to arrange some kinda accident for you in prison, but Sal said it was too risky. I mean, Sal's a good guy, and it's nothing personal, he's just trying to protect his business, y'know."

"Yeah…sure," said Jack, slowly.

Chuckie shuffled his feet nervously. "You ain't…uh…talked, huh, Jack?"

"Course I didn't, Chuckie, you know I ain't no squealer," snapped Jack.

"No," agreed Chuckie. "No, you ain't. Only…somebody has."

"Somebody has what?" demanded Jack.

"Squealed, snitched, talked, whatever you wanna call it," muttered Chuckie. "Sal's got the law breathing down his neck. Cops have foiled the past two operations. They're on to him, Jack, and he's understandably pretty upset. He's…blaming you. Thinks you must have tried to cut a deal with the DA's office to avoid the chair."

"But…I ain't," stammered Jack, stunned. "You know I ain't, Chuckie, you know I wouldn't do something like that…"

"I do know that, Jack," agreed Chuckie, nodding. "But Sal don't. He's put a call out for you. Wants you brought to him alive. But…uh…I don't think you'll stay that way for long."

"But…I didn't do it, Chuckie!" exclaimed Jack. "You gotta tell him I didn't do it…"

"I don't think he's in the mood to listen to me, Jack," interrupted Chuckie. "Or you. He's pretty upset, like I said. Pretty really upset. I had a hunch you'd be here, so I came to find you before anybody else did. To warn you, y'know. You'd better skip town, and fast."

"Yeah…thanks, Chuckie," murmured Jack, clapping him on the back. "You're a real pal, I mean that."

"Well, I'd hate to see an innocent guy suffer for somebody else's crime," said Chuckie, shrugging. "And I know you ain't no squealer, Jack. Anyway, you got a doll to take care of now, and I'd hate for Sal to get his hands on her pretty face. Probably wouldn't be so pretty after he was done with her."

He tipped his hat to Harley. "It was nice meeting you, ma'am. And uh…good luck, Jack."

"Thanks again, Chuckie," said Jack, as Chuckie left the shop, shutting the door behind him.

Jack turned to face Harley, who was staring at him with fear in her wide, blue eyes. "What…are we gonna do, Mr. J?" she whispered.

"You heard him. Skip town," muttered Jack, heading back upstairs.

"Leave Gotham? And go where?" asked Harley.

"Anywhere but here," he retorted. "Sal Valestra's a determined man. He'll find me if I stay. And Chuckie's right. I wouldn't want him to get his hands on you. I gotta protect my doll."

Harley was terrified, but she couldn't help but smile at this. "I like being your doll, Mr. J," she murmured.

Jack smiled back. "You're a sweet kid, Harley Quinn," he murmured, kissing her. "Now grab Mr. Bear. We gotta make tracks."

"Stealing a car's no biggie," said Jack, as they went out into the streets of Gotham. He looked around carefully before fiddling with the lock on the nearest car. "The real trick is thinking of a good place to hole up."

Harley watched him open the car door. "What about Brooklyn?" she asked. "We could…stay with my parents."

Jack laughed. His face fell when he turned and saw how earnest her own face was. "Oh…you were serious," he murmured.

"Why not? Mom and Dad wouldn't turn us in, and the police wouldn't be looking for us in Brooklyn anyway. And Sal doesn't even know I exist, let alone where I'm from," said Harley. "I think it's a pretty perfect setup."

Jack laughed again, flipping open the hood. "Let me get this straight, kid," he said. "You think it's a pretty perfect setup to bring your gangster boyfriend home to your parents, when both his former gang and the police are after his blood. Can you see what's wrong with that picture?"

"Aw, c'mon, Mr. J, I know Mom and Dad are gonna love you!" exclaimed Harley.

"They didn't before," snapped Jack, hotwiring the engine. "I'll never forget the way your Dad looked at me, like some piece of trash. And I doubt his opinion will improve when you tell him why we've suddenly showed up."

"We don't have to tell them you're a criminal," said Harley. "We don't have to tell them anything about this. You're not wanted in New York. And your gang won't know where to look for you. We can lie low with my parents until we can find a place of our own, and we can start a new life there. We can change our names, find new jobs, and never have to worry about the police or gangsters again."

The engine started, and Jack slammed the hood down. "I was wrong, kid," he said. "You do have a good imagination."

"You got a better idea, Mr. J?" asked Harley, as she threw her bag into the backseat and climbed into the front.

He sighed, climbing into the driver's seat. "I do not," he retorted. He smiled at her. "So, my little clown girl, I guess it's Brooklyn or bust."