JMJ

Chapter Fifteen

Smile

"Huh?" gasped Harley.

Batman swooped beside her and looked over the edge; quickly Harley followed his example as best as she could.

The Joker was literally hanging by a thread— naturally. The thread was swung around the neck of a grotesque, but after his prolonged shriek that petered into a self-made splat-sound, he did not look at all alarmed.

"Thanks, poopsie whoopsie!" the Joker called with a wave as he made sure he had a better grip on the stone beast in front of him. "I was just about to take my exit, anyway!

"I changed my mind, Bats! You can have the loony batty! Every single piece of her! As long as you can hold her!" And he shrieked with laughter.

Batman turned sharply to the record player as the chorus singers began, but just as he was about to fling a batterang, Harley suddenly leapt at him. The record player was too easy. The Joker meant exactly what he said. She was going to be the one in pieces.

"No!" Harley cried. "It's me! I'm gunna explode!"

She jumped onto the rail, and before Batman could stop her, she took a leap.

"Harley!" cried Batman.

Her aim was narrowed perfectly. Landing on the Joker, she was determined not to let him go. One his back with arms around his neck, she was nearly choking him before long.

The Joker screamed as his string broke and he grabbed onto the grotesque's mouth as hard as he could. His feet scrambled for the ledge upon which the grotesque stood.

"Get off me, you lunatic!" he snarled as he caught breath enough to speak.

Even for the Joker it was hard to hold on and shove away her latch-like arms at the same time.

"I know it hurts," hissed Harley into his ear, and he paused with a furious clench in his teeth to listen. "But try to smile…"

He started to growl deep in his throat, but the Batline grabbed them both. Though both let out a scream then, the Joker was suddenly frantic.

"Batman!" the Joker screeched. "Save me! She's gunna blow! This isn't funny! Let me go!"

I knew it, thought Harley.

"How!?" snarled Batman.

"Forget it, Batman!" snapped Harley. "I was gunna take him out somehow or other, anyway!" Then to the Joker she shouted, "Glad to be your last hobby, hubby! Betchya wish ya chose RPG now, huh?! Well, now our bones will explode intertwined! We all know that the movie's just a sugar coat and the real book is cold, hard reality!"

"A little late on the timing, as usual, baby cakes…" remarked the Joker not without some humor, but this was right before he quite suddenly and savagely ripped off her cowl with a snarl.

Had he been able to, he would have just as well taken off her whole head, Harley was sure. Understanding even before Harley what was going on, though, Batman sent a batterang into the cowl. It ripped it from the Joker's hands. Then the cowl fell fluttering beyond them.

BOOM!

It exploded on contact with the ground even though it did miss the atmospheric fire trench, which, incidentally, was not fire, but flickering orange-yellow party-lights running like barbwire all around the tower. They were even winking along to the music as Harley blinked at them.

The force of the bomb, however, shook the tower, and shook the Joker and Harley so that they banged into the wall roughly. Harley got most of the brunt of it, and as the madman the Joker was, he took advantage of that. Quick as flash, the Joker loosened himself with a sharp knife slicing through the line.

The deep voice of the main singer started up again meanwhile.

As Batman, himself in his weakened state, had not recovered as he would have normally, but he regained his grip on the line.

Harley let out a cry. She held on for dear life as the Joker's cut had released the binding for her as well.

Quickly, Batman pulled her up.

With the most perfect of wicked sneers, the Joker took his knife simultaneously and tried to slice Harley as she passed. It took all her strength to keep from passing out as it was as she held the line, so beaten bruised from before Batman's arrival. She felt it was adrenalin alone, if not some higher power, that kept her holding on. She did not even see the Joker and his swing attack.

Batman called for her to look out as he pulled harder, but the explosion had evidently been enough to start the lights exploding. They were not so innocent, after all, and the smoke seemed to be a strange color enough to suggest that even if someone survived the first explosion and even the many smaller explosions, the released laughing gas would get the rest of the person or anyone else who thought they could interfere. Just as the Joker made his swing at Harley and Harley herself was nearly at the top of the parapet, one explosion fired right from beneath the Joker.

The Joker lost his balance just as Harley landed in Batman's arms.

With a final wailing scream, the Joker disappeared into the smoke. Fire leapt like crazed hyenas licking out with ravenous tongues.

As the song came to an end in time with the last "goodbye", Harley collapsed into Batman completely. The rising gas gave no time for standing idle to look down long, and Batman swung out a batline to take them out of the crumbling tower with the ease of a nighthawk. They landed in a nearby tree, glowing silver from the light of the moon on top and blood-red from the light of the fire below. Then again they were out of sight as the sound of sirens followed in the usual pattern of roof-hoppers.

Harley then knew no more.

#

"The charred body found after the event, was disfigured in the face beyond recognition," said Summer Gleason. "Although it appears to be the Joker's otherwise, there are inquiries about having DNA testing done as further proof as the Joker has been notorious for escaping seemingly impossible deaths before. Some experts believe that it could be a decoy of some kind for the suspiciousness of the body taking on more damage than the clothing from the blow. Only time will tell. As for now, Batman has been considered the victor. The Joker's victim, his recently rehabilitated henchgirl Harleen Quinzel, known to most by her alias Harley Quinn, is alive and in hospital care with the belief that she will pull through with injuries not nearly as severe as at first believed. It appears that whether on the side of crime or rehabilitated as an upright citizen, she has lost none of her well-known luck…"

It was a faint smile, but a smile nonetheless. Despite the Joker's possible escape, the smile could not be hid no matter how small on Bruce's face, especially when his witness was Alfred, putting more pain cream on one of Batman's wounds in the Batcave.

It made Alfred smile too.

"It's always good to know that people don't always get worse instead of better," he remarked, "and that your influence can not only stop evil from happening but inspire people."

"It doesn't seem to show itself often," Bruce admitted with a bittersweet note behind his fading smile, "but when it does…" He paused, not sure what word to put there.

Despite Harley's best efforts, she had been more in the way than not once the Arkham breakout happened, but her presence, despite Batman's original misgivings about it, had not been all bad. Bullock, at least, had her to thank for being alive, and Bullock's death would have made the whole rest of the war so much heavier in these past weeks. Her enthusiasm as a new crime fighter, albeit as unorthodox as she went about it, was something that even Robin lately had lost. Her spirit for the war had been enough to keep Robin, Batman, and possibly Batgirl too in less depressed spirits even if it was only replaced with bewilderment on the younger people's part. He also had to admit that, her fight on smaller criminals while he took out the larger had been more help than she could know.

When Alfred saw that Bruce remained thoughtful and without answer, he nodded.

"Indeed, Sir," he said kindly as he left with the medical supplies.

#

Harley was surprised when she learned she had a visitor. Quickly, she turned off the old sitcom she was watching on the hospital television. She was even more surprised to find out who was visiting.

"You?!" she gasped.

"Sorry," said Bruce awkwardly. "I know I'm probably the last person you expected."

He rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye-contact for a moment.

Harley smiled wryly.

"I guess," Bruce went on, "I just thought that since I was the one who…uh…"

"Helped me get back on my feet?" offered Harley. "Do you always use this to pick up those dates you get?"

Bruce blushed. "Mostly I just thought you could use some cheering up, and since I happened to be going by, I thought I would just give you this in person."

It was hard to not have noticed already the very expensive and festive "get well" basket he was holding.

"That's alright," Harley said. "I get I'm not your type, anyway. Dregs girl, reformed villain… You sure know how to give a girl the wrong impression, though, with a basket like that."

Exotic fruits, luscious Belgium chocolates, a flowering plant, and a cheery silly cat doll were enough to nearly call it a date as he set it down.

"Maybe that's how you end up with more girls than you can handle. You're too nice," said Harley, but she was all delighted and very grateful; her tone and expression more than told that through her teasing.

"I just hope to see you get well again," said Bruce. "I couldn't help thinking how awful it must have been that night to get kidnapped by the Joker, and well…"

"Stop," said Harley severely as she held up her hand, but she was soon grinning from ear to ear. "Stupid doesn't do ya good. I know what you're always hiding."

Bruce squinted, and behind the stupidity of that squint, Harley saw a definite shrewd analysis of her before she went on and stopped holding him in suspense.

"You act like you're stupid, but I know you're not. Takes a fake to know one. I mean with all that people want from a multibillionaire, it's prob'ly the best defense you got, but the playboy thing's just show. You really do know what it's like to be hurt."

"Uh…"

"Everyone knows what happened to you, but I think most people don't think about it, but that's why you help idiots like me," said Harley. "Between you and Batman, what would the world be like without you guys? It makes me wonder if you and he are more in cahoots than you let on…"

Bruce opened his mouth to speak again, but Harley shook her head.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything to anyone, but even Veronica Vreeland said somethin' once about Batman probably having someone rich behind him like I did to fund what he does with all those fancy toys. Someone with brains and money. But that's all I'm gunna say."

"Well, I don't know what to say…" Bruce began easing up a little now.

"Then don't say anything," said Harley. "And thanks. Not just for the gift, but for my start an' all."

"You're welcome," said Bruce.

"And if you do ever see Batman, I got something for him."

Without warning, despite how she was still bandaged, she reached out to kiss him with surprising fluidity, but Bruce stepped back with equally as surprising grace, stealth, and all the while keeping his good nature.

She laughed. "See, I knew you were more than you let on."

"Good luck, Miss Quinzel."

"Thanks," said Harley. "I leave the hospital this afternoon, so… yeah. Gunna need it."

"Well, you haven't lost your job," Bruce insisted.

"Oh, it's not that," Harley said. "It's just…"

"I understand," Bruce said.

"I know you do," Harley said with a wink. "But you'll tell Batman, thanks then too, right? For everything. I love the guy. I mean, not like romantic— well, kinda, but…"

"If I do by some miracle run into him," shrugged Bruce.

"Aww, go on," Harley laughed.

A little wave later and Bruce took his leave with the sort of wry smile back at her that Harley knew him capable.

Then she settled back into her bed and closed her eyes. She basked in the warmth of covers and sunlight coming from the window. It looked like it was going to cloud over soon, but for now she would enjoy it. Then, after a moment, she reached out for one of those amazing candy bars from Europe. Her mouth was already watering.

Just then the nurse came in.

"This came for you too," she said holding up an envelope.

Harley's smile vanished as she stared at the white envelope addressed to her. For a fleeting moment she feared the worst. It was from the Joker, it had to be, but she soon saw that it was addressed from Arkham Asylum.

Dr. Leland? she thought raising a brow as she took it from the nurse without saying anything out loud.

The nurse let her be then as she quickly opened it.

It was a simple card. A bright sunflower adorned the front of it with no words but a cozy chocolate-colored background. She opened it. It was still one of those blank cards, but someone had written in it in a familiar scrawling, spidery hand. It was more legible than the last time she had seen it.

"'Dear Miss Quinzel,'" she whispered to herself. "'I do hope this card finds you on the mend. I also hope it is not too forward of me to send this. I wish you only the best. Sincerely, Jonathan Crane.'"

Harley bit her lip.

The tear stealing down her cheek stunned her. Then she felt the swell of more tears as she sniffled and felt her face redden. A lump in her throat emerged.

With all the fake letters she had been receiving before her time in the hospital, she almost did not believe that it was from who it said it was from. Not even the stamped address on the envelope from Arkham would have convinced her, but she shook her head. There would be no motivation for the Joker to have sent it whether he was alive or not; and there would be even less motivation for Poison Ivy to have sent it. It was from Jonathan Crane. What struck her most, though, was that he signed it "Jonathan Crane" and not "Scarecrow" or "the Professor".

A hope that she had nearly forgotten resurfaced in her, and the kindness Batman had offered to her— oh, and Bruce Wayne too for that matter.

She could not recall offhand but she was sure she had hit Bruce Wayne or his friends or his company at some point in her career as a psychopath's glorified lackey. Or even if she had not, someone just as wrong had killed his parents once long ago. Instead of being hardened by it, he became kinder by it even if a bit strange. It almost made Harley wonder if Batman's words to her that day at Arkham about knowing what it meant to rebuild a life was a clue about the link between him and Bruce Wayne. He had had a bad day too once. It was almost as if Batman and Bruce Wayne…

"Nah!" she said to herself waving her hand aside as she did and almost forgetting about the pain in her side that she then triggered from moving so suddenly. "Ouch."

That would be too obvious, she thought.

But regardless of who Batman or Bruce Wayne were, she knew that like they gave her a chance, Harley had to finish what she had started with Jonathan Crane. She had almost forgotten about him during this whole time, except to think in passing that he was back at Arkham not long after she had arrived. Still injured and with medical care, she had no doubt, he would still have to have been brought back once he was well enough to even think about escaping the hospital. He would have to be guarded at Arkham.

It was not at all like Jonathan to write a card like this. He was not one for such sentimentalities, and especially was not one for sunflowers. She was sure all he meant was to return the favor for the card she had sent him, but that meant that he was grateful. He all but thanked her in his card, and it was far more than just her card he was thankful for. Although he might have just regretted trying to physically change himself and would go back to being the usual Scarecrow given time, she held onto that hope that this card was a glimpse into a window— a window that might be closed soon if she did not go to investigate for herself.

She had been planning on skipping town as soon as possible, but she suddenly changed her mind.

Lunabat was done forever. The Joker, even if he lived through that night in the bell tower without a scratch, would not bother her again unless she showed herself as Lunabat. However, even if Lunabat was retired, that did not mean that Harley Quinzel had to be done. In her mind, she never would be done.

Through her drying tears, she allowed herself one more encouraging smile.