WHOOT! 3 FREEGGING REVIEWS! Oh well, beggars can't be choosers. Okay, I'm temperarly done with that hiatus I was on. Hopefully. Well, first, I guess I ought to warn you that my knowledge is limited to what I know, what Nightshade knows, and what Dvlansor (sp?) knows. Even tho they're brilliant, I'm nothing special, and I'm writing this fic. Basicaly, I'm flying blind. So don't get on my case.
Pirate Gyrl: Nice to see you again! Yes, chappie 1 is confusing, and it doesn't get much clearer in this one, but hey, ignorance is a form of bliss yes?
Nightshade0020: Thank you again for all of your help:round of applause: And who says she doesn't know?
Onthnis: Thank you for your praise, and welcome to Psycoville.
In case you didn't notice, that chapter titles have nothing to do with the content, they just all have something about minds or heads. Any suggestions containing either are welcome!
Empty headed
She slid off the bike with practiced grace. However, it was all Dick could do to stand up straight. A drive across Gotham on the back of that motorcycle wasn't an exciting prospect, and neither was clinging onto a girl for the whole ride. Clinging because she was quickly showing him that she full deserved to have her license pulled. The ride had been one of his scarier experiences in life.
With a wink she tossed him the keys. "Thanks for the ride."
He sat down. Suddenly he was shaking violently, and it wasn't because of the ride. "No problem. When should I pick you up?"
She laughed. "Why, you want to repeat the trip? I'll call a cab, I get paid today."
Just as she handed him her helmet the Batmobile pulled up.
"Heya, Bats. Long time no see." She gave him a mock salute and held the door open. Dick noticed that Batman had an especially steely stare for him.
She looked back at Dick; he wasn't gaping like most people, but his stare was following Batman down the hall. She grinned and motioned for him to follow. "Never seen Batman before, huh? He doesn't normally use the front door, in fact he doesn't normally visit. He just leaves the catch of the day somewhere that the cops will find it and goes on his merry way. He must be visiting someone today."
They stopped at a desk. The burly security guard looked up with a scowl, but upon seeing her his scowl turning into a slightly lustful grin. Then he saw Dick and the scowl was back. "Evening, Miss King. How was your day?"
She signed a clip board, initialed something closely resembling a waver, and slapped a badge on Dick. It read something to the effect of he was a temporary visitor, here on legal business, and was well insured. "Oh, it was hell, Harvey. And yours?"
Harvey eyed the badge she'd given Dick. "Little young to be a blood sucking lawyer, isn't he?"
Miss King simpered, very effectually. "Oh Harvey, he's safe with me. Please don't tell?"
Harvey pretended to think about it. "Fine. Here, you gotta sign in. New rule since the break out."
King paused before putting her signature down on the paper. "Why because of the breakout? Everyone knows that Arkham is virtually a bed and breakfast for wackos, they leave so fast. Why's this time any different?"
Harvey motioned to the clipboard, making it very clear he wouldn't explain further until she put her name down. She hastily scrawled her name and looked up expectantly. "You know who broke out, right?"
She hesitated, so Dick answered for her. "Face, Joker, and Doe, right?"
Harvey nodded, somewhat irked that the boy should continue to win the favor of his pedophilic affection. "Well, turns out, he's got help on the inside."
"Who?"
"Joker. One of the doctors."
King gave him a look that expressed her desire to wring a straight answer from him and he hastily added, "Harlene Quinzel. You worked with her, right?" King had suddenly gone very, very pale. "Ross, are you alright?"
Aha! Your name is Ross King! Or maybe King Ross… Dick's train of thought was cut off by a sharp pain in his arm, the sharp pain of being pulled very fast to an unknown destination.
"Ross, is it? Um, where are we going?" The question was ignored. Dick was used to running very fast, and once he'd regained his arm he could take a proper look at the inside of Arkham. It was derelict in every sense of the word, with nasty colors oozing off the walls and crusted on the floor. It was in the worst possible condition, and it couldn't have been made any better by the frequent escapes of the inmates. Politicians and tightwads argued against giving the place more money, saying they'd be rewarding the prison/hospital for terrible security, a terrible security from a terrible lack of money.
They skidded around a corner and into an empty office. Ross looked around, very similar to a bloodhound sniffing out its prey. Before Dick could say anything she was off again, stopping every now and then to stare at the ceiling, floor, or walls. He got the distinct impression she was following a trail he couldn't see, strengthened by the path she was taking. They were going right to where the directories on the walls said the padded rooms were.
Dick skidded around another corner and slammed into Ross, who'd slammed into Batman. Oh boy, I'm gunna get in so much trouble when I get home. He grinned feebly at his mentor behind Ross.
"Miss King, I suggest you turn around." Ross was easily half of Batman's size and weight, yet as he issued the command she squared her shoulders and glared.
"I don't think so, Bats. What the hell are you doing here?" Over Batman's shoulder Dick could see an old man take off his glasses and massage his temples, but made no move to stop the conflict. "You know I'll find out," she whispered.
His nostrils flared. "Interrogating Dr. Quinzel on the whereabouts of the three escapees."
"No you're not. Every time you 'interrogate' one of the inmates, they turn into a basket case. Alright, more of a basket case. Whatever you want to know, I'll find out for you." She stood on her tiptoes to better impose her will on him. The sight would have been very comical, if Dick didn't know what Batman could do to Ross.
"Um, Ross…" Batman's eyes darted to Dick.
"Who's he?" He really meant, "What are you doing here?"
"Guest of mine."
"He doesn't belong in here."
"Then you can show him out."
"Do it yourself, he's your guest."
"You know, most people would argue that a grown man who dresses like a flying rat at night should have his own padded cell. Keep bugging me, and you'll get it."
Dick was now thoroughly terrified for Ross's well being. "Um, Ross, maybe you should…"
"Get. Out. Of. Here. Now." Dick had been examining his shoes, and when he looked up he'd expected Batman's lips to be moving. Instead they were white with anger; totally immobile.
Dick almost passed out when Batman shouldered past Ross. She nodded as a farewell and he scuttled behind the incensed vigilante. This is like a bad episode of the Twilight Zone.
"You've got explaining to do." The Batmobile whirred to life as he spoke.
"You do to. She can't be older than sixteen!" Dick slid onto the motorcycle, glad that he was driving.
"Shut up."
"Harlene? It's me, Ross. I brought you some coffee." Ross wrapped Dr. Harlene Quinzel's hand around the steaming mug.
"Mr. J. calls me Harley." The once composed doctor was, in a word, completely un-composed. The hair that had once been in a tight bun was scattered all over her face, and in place of the short skirt and white coat was a straight jacket with the sleeves undone so the coffee could be enjoyed.
"Who's Mr. J.?"
Harley shook her head. "No no, he said I couldn't tell, or he wouldn't love me anymore."
Ross crossed her legs, making the pair look like school girls trading secrets at a lunch. Then one noticed the setting and the moment was ruined. "Dr. Quin- Harley, do you remember what I do to the patients who don't want to talk?"
She nodded. "I'm drunk on love, honey, not stupid. That little trick of yours is why you're so valuable here."
Ross looked sad. "You committed a crime, Harley. If you don't cooperate to bring back the Joker, Face, and Doe, I'm gunna have to use that little trick of mine."
The former doctor's eyes watered up. "Please don't, honey. He'll be so mad at me!"
Ross sighed. She gently took the cup of coffee and left the room… or so Harley thought. Suddenly the arms of her straight jacket fastened themselves. She stood up thrashing about best she could, constricted as she was. Her head began to spin, and there was a kathunk that was her head hitting the floor. Everything became blurry, she felt like she was drunk.
She'd gotten drunk only once, thus far, and that was with Mr. J. He persuaded her to bring him something he shouldn't have (Your choice, pumpkin, of course, I just want to have a good time!). She'd chosen booze. Partly because she'd hoped he'd get drunk enough to kiss her, partly because she was hoping she'd get drunk enough not to remember getting fired if they found those two, and partly because she'd always thought alcohol was for Bad Girls. She wasn't a Bad Girl, she was a Good Girl, but Mr. J. converted her. She missed him, with the white skin and the green hair. As soon as she got out she'd show him for leaving her all alone here in Arkham.
Harley felt something pull out of her head, an odd sliding sensation, like a knife that was so sharp you didn't realize it was in and out of your lungs until you saw the blood. She looked up and saw Ross standing there, looking at her with pity and remorse. Ross wasn't a Good Girl, but she wasn't a Bad Girl. She was one of those odd shades of grey that couldn't get classified. She was always so helpful, calming patients, keeping them in line, retracting information…
Oh, damn. Harley realized what the slick retraction had been. Ross had been in her mind, and she had gotten all she wanted to know. Harley leapt at Ross… and flew through the hallucination and into the wall behind it.
"She's what, sixteen? Seventeen? And she says 'get out' and you leave? What's wrong with you?" Dick was in the Batcave doing pushups while Batman looked something up on the computer.
"She's too valuable of a resource to lose." He finished and stalked over to the Batmobile.
Undeterred, Robin slid his helmet on and kept talking through the intercom link. "And that means…"
"She's very good at retracting information from people. I'm still working on how she does it, but it works." The Batmobile sped out of the cave.
Robin hopped on the Red Bird and followed. "So why pretend to put up a fight if you're just going to let her do the interrogating every time?"
"Because then she might begin to look on the … relationship with less and less animosity." The Batmobile turned toward the center of the city.
"Consider you a friend? What's wrong with that?" Robin peeled away. They had already discussed the route he was to take on the continuing search for the escapees.
"She uses friends. I'd be careful if I were you; don't get too close."
Batman slammed on the brakes. Ross King was standing in the middle of the road, thumb out in a hitchhiker's pose. "Get a lift, Bats?"
He opened the door and stepped out. "You can get a taxi."
She sauntered closer. "Yeah, but then you would find out what I was going to tell you."
He stared at her for a considerable amount of time. "Get in."
Ross climbed in, quiet for once.
Batman hit the gas. "Talk."
Ross looked uncomfortable. "Well, I know you don't want to hear that Harley and I were friends, so I hope you'll consider what I'm about to tell you as a peace offering."
Silence.
"Okay then. Well, for his past couple of stays, 'Mr. J." has been working on Harley. It's gotten to the point where she's so love struck that she's legally insane, meaning she didn't know letting out Joker, Face, and Doe would be bad and bring retribution on all parties involved. So she let her 'puddin' out, along with anybody who was present."
"Joker, Face, and Doe."
"Exactly. You're smart, I bet you can guess which of the three is Mr. J."
"She say where they went?"
"Nope… but I caught something about Joker trying his hand at organized crime again. You have any idea what that means?"
Stony silence. Then, "Decade or so ago, when he first came to town, Joker united all the gangs in the city. He would have made a considerable dent in Gotham if it had lasted."
"Someone screwed it up?"
He didn't say anything else for the rest of the trip.
The refrence to the Ubermob of Joker's is from my other Batman fic, and if you'd read it you'd know why Batman touchy about the subject. SO, REVIEW OR GET RUN OVER BY THE BATMOBILE!