Harley had a very quiet morning at Arkham, which wasn't unusual – the inmates were usually well-behaved, and the staff generally satisfied. At noon, she drove from the asylum to a restaurant downtown, gave her car to the valet, and entered the building to see her former teacher, friend, and mentor, Dr. Jonathan Crane.
He stood up as she entered, embracing her warmly. "Harley, my dear, you're looking wonderful," he said, as they sat down opposite each other.
"Thank you, Dr. Crane," said Harley, smiling at him.
"Harley, how many times have I asked you to call me Jonathan?" he said, smiling back at her. "Let me pour you a drink – would you like some wine?" he asked, gesturing to the open bottle on the table in front of him.
"It's a little early in the day for me," said Harley, glancing at the menu. "Just some water will be fine, thanks."
"Of course. You don't mind if I drink, do you?" he asked.
"No, of course not," she said. Although privately she thought that her former teacher looked a little more pale and haggard than usual, and she noticed his hands shaking slightly as he poured a glass of wine for himself.
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked, slowly.
"Me? Yes, I'm fine," he said, forcing a smile at her.
"How's your research going?" she asked.
"Fine," he repeated, sipping from the wine glass. "Fine, fine. And how is everything over at Arkham?"
"Well, it hasn't burned down under my leadership, thank goodness!" said Harley, laughing. "We've discharged ten patients this past year, with no notable relapses."
"That's excellent," he said. "It must be so rewarding to really help people like that. To know that you're making a difference…"
He trailed off. "You've made a huge difference to me," said Harley. "And I'm sure I'm not the only student you've inspired. I wouldn't be head at Arkham if not for you."
"I'm sure that's not true," he said, smiling at her. "But thank you."
He drained his wine glass, and reached for the bottle to pour himself another. "And how is your…young man?" he asked. "I trust you're both still very happy together."
"We actually…uh…broke up," stammered Harley.
He stopped pouring and looked up at her in surprise. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's ok – it's been a long time coming, I think," said Harley. "He…broke up with me, but it actually felt like a huge relief when he did it. I thought I'd be really upset since we were together for so long, but I'm not. I just feel like a massive weight has been lifted, like I've been freed from someplace I was trapped in for a long time…I know that must sound callous…"
"No, it sounds honest," he interrupted. "I'm glad you're all right. It's much better than being heartbroken."
"It makes me think I don't really have a heart," said Harley. "To be so neutral about a relationship I invested a long time in. Maybe I'm just a heartless person."
"You most definitely have a heart," said Crane, smiling as he took her hand. "Your sterling work at Arkham proves that. Sometimes relationships just aren't right. You meet the right people at the wrong time, or vice versa. Your feelings, or lack thereof, just mean the relationship was wrong for you, that's all. It doesn't mean you're unfeeling – I'm sure you have the ability to love someone very deeply."
"Pam, that's my roommate, she says when you meet the one, you just know," said Harley. "She's engaged to the District Attorney, and they've only been dating a few months. I guess she's right, and I guess I just have to wait for the right person to come along."
"Perhaps people don't always recognize the right person when they do come along," replied Crane. "Perhaps it's not always love at first sight, but more of a comfortable and familiar thing. Perhaps you can develop feelings for someone you've known for many years, but never seen as anything more than a friend. I daresay that happens."
"I'm sure it does," said Harley, nodding. "Pam and I have never been that similar, so it makes sense our relationships wouldn't be similar. She's always been a lot more adventurous than me, so I guess she knows the real thing when she feels it. I don't know if I will - I was with a guy for a long time who I clearly didn't love. Maybe I won't even recognize the one when he does show up. I just wish I could have Pam's certainty about her relationship, and about everything, really. She's always been like a wise, older sister to me, and I'm really going to miss her when she gets married – we've been rooming since college, and I've helped her through quite a few broken relationships. I'm glad she's happy now though. Although I don't think she's glad she's had to take over from Ricky in waking me up from my nightmares," she added with a wry smile.
"What nightmares?" asked Crane, raising his wine glass to his lips.
"I was hoping to consult you about them, actually," said Harley. "You know how much I value your expertise. I've been having this vague, recurring dream about being trapped in some kind of prison with these weird figures. There's this clown, and this scarecrow…"
Crane dropped the glass suddenly, spilling wine all over the tablecloth in front of them. "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" he gasped, trying to blot the mess with his napkin. "How clumsy of me!"
"It's fine – it didn't get on me," said Harley, helping him clean up. "I'm sorry if I startled you…"
"No, it's just…I've also had a dream about a…scarecrow," he stammered. "And being in a prison, or what seems to be a prison…"
Harley stared at him. "You…you have?" she asked.
He nodded. "And a clown?" Harley pressed. "Was there a clown there?"
"Y…yes," he stammered. "You were a clown, in fact."
"Me?" repeated Harley. "You were dreaming about me?"
"I…I…uh…of course it's not uncommon to have dreams where one is trapped in a prison or cage or some other enclosed space," he said, quickly changing the subject. "So it's not a particularly startling coincidence. It usually just means that you're feeling trapped, or hiding something."
"I don't feel trapped anymore since the breakup," said Harley. "But the nightmare has kept going. And I can't think of anything I'm hiding. What about you?"
"Perhaps," he said, pouring himself another glass of wine. "We all hide things for one reason or another."
"And the scarecrow and the clown?" she asked. "What might they mean?"
"I'm not sure – I'd have to consult my books," he said. "And they're in my office at the university. But you leave this with me, and I'll look into it, all right?"
"All right," agreed Harley, nodding. "Of course it's probably nothing, but I have dreamed it for as long as I can remember, and it's only gotten more intense. It would be nice if this clown went away and left me in peace," she added, smiling at him.
"Yes," he agreed, raising his glass in a toast. "To ending nightmares."
"To ending nightmares," she said, raising her glass of water and hoping.