AN: Own and make nothing.

A nimble figure in red, white and black front flipped over the barbed wire and landed silently behind a car. The silhouette exaggeratedly tiptoed from hiding place to hiding place. In a few minutes she was on the wall of the building, scaling the drainpipe. If anyone had been near enough, they would have heard her humming cheerily to herself. The roof tiles were wet and slippery from the evening rains but she continued onwards with ease. She found a hatch, opened it with a groan and tossed a rubber chicken into the void. The false avian descended a few meters and then a loud squeak informed her that the trap had been activated. With a smirk on her lips, Harley Quinn crawled through the hatch and let herself drop with an excited giggle.

Harley knew this place like the back of her hand. She knew every trap set for unwanted visitors - she'd set most of them herself. She knew every escape route and that was just as well because this was probably one of the most dangerous places in Gotham. Not that she seemed affected. The thrill of it was guiding her. She landed softly on her feet. There was a light down the hall - she'd expected that. Sneaking down the hallway, she glanced through the open door. Tommy was at the table. His face looked pretty busted. She didn't know the other two. They were probably new. Mistah J probably needed the extra help since… Well, it wasn't like he was getting her back again, that was for sure! They were speaking casually, playing cards. Good. He wasn't here then.

Not that she'd expected him to be. He usually went out at this hour. Harley left the door with a quiet sigh and continued. Just down here and to the left.

"Dah-deh-dah-deh-dah!" she sang, throwing caution to the wind.

Harley sauntered into the room and was met by familiar whining sounds.

"Hey, babies!" She cried joyfully and rushed to Bud and Lou, who were chained by the wall.

The hyenas eagerly jumped us and struggled against the chain to get to their mistress sooner, cackling and jumping as they did so.

"Mommy missed ya, yes she did!"

She hugged the animals as they happily licked her face and snapped at her pigtails.

"Shhh!" she cautioned them, holding a finger to her black lips.

Not that they understood but Harley was satisfied nonetheless and unchained them. They jumped around the room excitedly as Harley Quinn opened cupboards and searched under sheet-covered furniture. She found her mallet tossed into a closet and her revolver between the cushions on the couch. Having grabbed both items - as well as a few personal belongings mostly consisting of incognito clothes and a pair of glasses and her contacts, her eyes suddenly fell on the door to the Joker's office. It couldn't hurt, could it?

Harley glanced from side to side unnecessarily before making her way over there. The hyenas had begun gnawing on the couch behind her. She kicked the door open - she knew the handle would have electrified her. His notes were lying there. She hastily read through them. He'd changed his mind since last he told her his plans. Harley frowned. Well, he'd have a surprise coming! He thought he could do things without her? Well! She was about to exit when her eyes fell on a crate contained several bottles. Harley took one look at the long combinations of letters and numbers on the fron before she grabbed two of them, stuffed them in her bag and went back out again.

"Hey!" she suddenly heard someone shout.

The goons were standing there in the doorway with wide eyes.

"Well, hello there fellas!" Harley grinned at them. "Gee, I'd love tha stay 'an talk it out but I'm mighty busy."

"Jesus Christ, it's her - ain't it?" One of them asked Tommy as he appeared behind them.

"Get her!" cried the other and all three of them stomped towards her.

"Well, ain't ya sweet!" Harley grinned and sent the hammer swinging into the stomach of the first to reach her.

Howls erupted as a second one found himself set upon by the hyenas, leaving Harley to expectedly jump out of Tommy's range. It wasn't exactly hard. Actually she enjoyed it. Harley swung at Tommy, narrowly missing him and backflipped over the couch to avoid the bullet from the gun which the first man had finally remembered he had. There was no point in being stealthy now and Harley smashed through the boards which covered one of the few windows. It wasn't enough and she had to duck again before she whistled for Bud and Lou to abandon their prey. The men dover behind furniture to get out of the path of the carnivores and Harley took the chance to smash the boards again, finally breaking through the barrier and destroying the glass behind.

"Come on, babies!" she called happily. "Come to mama!"

As she crawled through the window, another bullet flew past her. The hyenas jumped through after her. They still shot after them. Harley frowned. They were monsters. Her fluffy boys never did anything to them. Still, perhaps they weren't dumb enough to actually hit what was essentially the Joker's pets as well - for they didn't. Bud and Lou laughed loudly as the little family fled, running as fast as they could.

"What are those?!" Jonathan cried and pointed a bony finger at the animals currently harassing Tim.

"I couldn't leave tha babies!" Harley Quinn objected. "Mistah J probably wasn't even feedin' them!"

Jonathan's blood ran cold. He stopped, stood a little as he enjoyed the feeling washing over him. The occurrence was becoming rarer. It was not without ample cause though. He hadn't known where she had gone while he moved the rest of his things into his… their new hideout. The last thing he'd have expected was her stealing from the Joker. She looked so assured of herself as she stood there - arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Were he a man who entertained such thoughts, he might have called it adorable. As it was, he wasn't.

"Dr Quinzel…" he tried.

"Aww, please professor! Pretty pleaaase?"

She had such innocent eyes. That had always fascinated him. He knew she wasn't innocent in deed - but in soul? The disconnect between her actions and naive character might have made an interesting study once. In a previous life. Was she frightened of the clown? On some level she had to be and yet… She was batting her eyes at him. Jonathan knew perfectly well what she was doing but he found - much to his own annoyance, a reluctance to challenging her and to see her disappointed. He'd seen it before. When she was a student, she came to his office asking for extra time, extra credits, extra help. She'd promised him she was committed to the course. That she'd do whatever it took to do well. He knew what that was. University faculty are terrible gossips. Rumors got around to him of her other attempts - not that he would have needed them to see it. He should have shown her the door - much like a certain side of him, a certain straw-filled side, felt he should have done when first she came knocking. He hadn't. He'd given her what she'd asked and never demanded anything except her industry and diligence in return. The matter of the hyenas was not a battle he truly wanted to win. It bothered him.

Jonathan gestured to the garage with an exasperated air. She understood his meaning.

"Ya won't regret it, professor! They are such angels!"

Skipped along to introduce the beasts to their new quarters. He watched her as she ran along and then turned his attention to the gift she had brought him. Of course she had no idea what the chemicals she had taken from the Joker were. One was sulphuric acid - the other something a little more useful. Hopefully the clown had not tampered with these in any way - regardless, he'd be careful. He ran his fingertips over the cold glass. They were an apology - for the chemical he had lost when saving her. Of course neither of these could replace it, but he recognised the gesture for what it was.

'Silly child,' he whispered in his mind.

'She is ruining everything,'said another voice in there.

Jonathan ignored it. He did not like how she acted with the Joker. It was demeaning. A woman of her intelligence reduced to a fool. What he did like was those innocent eyes, the way she alone out of everyone seemed to still speak to him with respect and acknowledgement of his genius and accomplishments. He could hear cries in the garage from Tim. Jonathan did not allow himself to smile. That she had broken into the Joker's hideaway was a borderline suicidal action - on the other hand he doubted she would have done so if she was still sincerely attached to him. Still, he knew better than to place any bets on that.

"Just a teensy tiny bit of confetti!" Harley begged.

"Absolutely not!" replied Dr Crane.

He didn't even look up from his book and that annoyed Harley indescribably. He was seated in a battered armchair. The house was condemned and lay fairly centrally placed. This room, which faced the small brick and concrete yard behind the house, now housed all of Dr Crane's equipment. Harley was not in costume, but wore boots and an oversized jumper that reached down mid-thigh.

"There's no fun in it!" She objected.

Dr Crane finally looked at her, over the rim of his glasses.

"This is research, not a variety show. We aim to collect sufficient data for my studies - the advancement we will make in the study of fear will be our reward."

Harley narrowed her eyes. That sounded suspiciously humble for him.

"Just don't see why we can't 'ave a laugh, is all."

"Dr Quinzel, surely, an academic of your accomplishments can appreciate the implications of this undertaking: The unlocking of the human mind's most base, yet intricate patterns through the complete understanding of fear! It is through diligence and standards that I have become the master of fear! The ruler of the human psyche! This, my dear, is your chance to restore your name among the scientific community. Think, Dr Quinzel! We shall complete the greatest study ever conducted in the links between fear, hysteria and the criminal mind! No one will be able to argue with our findings! The findings of my brilliant experiment will revolutionize our understanding!"

There it was. Oddly, it made Harley calmer.

"Yeah, professor, I get that. It's just: Besides the location 'an all that, aint it pretty much the same plan ya always 'ave? I mean: It's just gassin' all these people. Stick around ta make notes. Get caught?"

He gave her a disapproving look.

"And you mean to say, you can do better?" he asked.

Harley's fingers twirled her hair absentmindedly.

"No... A bit… I'm just sayin' maybe switch it up. That'll confuse them all for sure."

"There is some merit to that," he agreed, closing the book.

"Then let's spice it up a bit! Whaddaya say?" Harley smiled. "Like, does it have ta be gas through the vents? Can't we do sommin' with pies? Or presents! Or exploding flowers!"

Harley jumped backwards up on his new - but already fairly cluttered, desk to sit again. The room was fairly nicer than the last - mostly because the heating was still connected as it therefore wasn't as damp. In fact, it was almost cosy.

"I thought I made it clear I would not degrade my work by making it silly ," Dr Crane replied, watching her with only a slight hint of annoyance.

Harley rolled her eyes. She was beginning to see why the Joker had always loved tormenting the Scarecrow when he could - it took a great deal to get a reaction out of him and that was just so annoying! Why did he have to be such a block of wood? Oddly, Harley found pushing his buttons kind of fun. Harley had trouble imagining him as anything other than the man she knew at university - and, because he had never lashed out at her, she felt confident in poking him with the metaphorical stick.

"It's not silly! It's fun!" She countered, but Crane opened his book again.

"Can I at least help with that?" She said, pointing to the table now carrying his lab equipment.

"Do not touch that!" Replied the professor sharply without even looking up from his book.

Harley Quinn was not so easily deterred when bored. Balancing delicately in her best flamingo-impression, she slowly lowered her index finger from above until she was very nearly touching a corked Erlenmeyer flask filled with a yellowish liquid.

"Ooooo!" She cooed, purposely.

Snap.

"Miss Quinzel!"

Harley immediately sprung up and stood to attention, turning to see Dr Crane out of his chair, book snapped shut and a tremble in his shoulders as he marched to her side. He towered over her. But with his spindly appearance and coldness of temper, this had a rather different effect upon her than… her former boss. Harley did not cower but felt her cheeks redden.

"Uhm… Sorry, Professor Crane?" She smiled nervously.

For a moment she just endured his stare. There was a darkness to his eyes, Harley hadn't noticed before - had it been there before? The longer it continued the more uneasy she got. His birdlike face was a mask and Harley couldn't tell what was going on inside his head. Then suddenly it seemed to have vanished and it was not actually her he focused his attention on.

"My dear, I would appreciate it if you were to follow instructions on this particular point."

His voice was neither kind nor cold. Lecturing, more like.

"Gotcha!" Harley smiled.

Harley knew how to play a game. It didn't matter whether he was actually playing too - so long as he got played.

"You promised you'd let me," she purred.

"Even I can make a dangerous choice."

His voice was lighter.

"Come," he continued. "Let me instruct you how to make those."

Harley followed his hand with her eyes, as his finger landed on a set of notes which Harley could instantly tell described the making of something explosive. Her face lit up and she eagerly snatched the notes from the table. His hand stopped hers in mid air.

"Kindly exercise self control, Dr Quinzel. They are intended to release the gas - not explode the premises," he cautioned her.

"No problemo," she replied, winking at him.

He frowned.

"I will be supervising."

Harley tsk'd at that. She wasn't going to try to blow up anything. Yeah, she didn't have the best record, but hey, you had to experiment once in a while. Crane had already begun setting up what she'd need and was not paying any attention to her.

"Professor?" Harley said sweetly to the back of his head.

"Yes, child?"

"How about just a little bit of confetti?" Harley continued.

"I will take it under advisement."