JMJ

Chapter One

Fancy Meeting You Here!

Three months earlier…

It was more than thrill, which caused Harleen Quinzel to tingle as she stepped out into the bright sunshine from her apartment— her very own apartment!

How long had it been?

Meh pretty long ago aside from for one day some months before!

So all in all, too long.

Way too long for a person to call an Arkham cell a woman cave.

She did not know if it was for old time's sake or forgiving charity that Bruce Wayne still helped give her a fresh start after the fiasco of her last release from Arkham with kidnapping his silly girlfriend. With what little Arkham could afford on its own, which was pretty miniscule because of its reputation, Wayne Enterprises had helped with rehabilitated inmates before. Whether out of kindness or just a way to help keep crazies from going backwards in their quest for sanity it was sweet, really.

What wasn't sweet was that not even Bruce Wayne could get Harley her old psychiatric license back. Her own reputation destroyed all hope of that. No one wanted an X-criminally insane screwball hench-girl to treat any other mentally unstable person. She would be more than willing, and in fact, honored, to perform her job properly this time. Humbled, even! In some ways, she almost felt it would be the best way and the only suitable way to make up for her past.

Regardless of the odds against her she was not going to let herself be daunted by such things, though. She had promised herself to do some good with her life when she got out again, and no one was going to stop that. For now she would just have to be satisfied with working as an assistant secretary for some computer place associated with Wayne Enterprises. At least it was for medical technology and not for something stupid.

But that had started last Monday. Today was Saturday of that same week. She had worked loyally and dignifiedly from 8 to 4 from Monday to Friday. Today, she was going to have a chance to restart that day she had strolled into town on roller-skates with a pair of hyenas. She felt much saner today than she had all the way back then.

Park trees blew lovely swirls of red and orange leaves her way as though greeting her and encouraging her on her new adventure.

Not as though they were literally doing that, of course. She wasn't crazy, after all. She was the picture of sanity.

Her hair, she allowed loose for the weekend, hung over the collar of her polka-dotted, stylish new trench coat— fun but not too goofy. Beneath her coat she wore a simple dress, which was allowed a little swoosh as the trench was left open. It was not too chilly for October. Her boots may have been thrift-bought but they were swank after the toes had been re-varnished.

The park seemed a good place to go for a happy, sunny day. A hotdog from the hotdog stand was a good start.

Yum!

Maybe she ought to get a new pet.

She could not help but notice someone walk by with a poodle, and she sighed after her old babies that she reluctantly gave up to the zoo where they had been taken from originally anyway.

Where was the pet shop again? thought Harley tapping her chin thoughtfully as she recreated a scene from the not-too-distant past when she and the Joker in a race with the Batmobile had crashed through the corner of one and let the dogs out.

She almost spoke it out loud, but she was sane, after all, and no one needed to hear her talk to herself on her first day out on the town, right?

She spun around and was just about to go into the park when she suddenly heard a honk behind her.

"Huh?"

It had been a honk for someone else, and yet she could not help but look.

It proved her loneliness, but she shook it away.

The driver was not even facing her as he shouted to a woman across the street who scampered in after him.

Don't worry, Harl, you'll make new friends, Harley promised herself as she turned sharply away again. You'll get new pets. Maybe you'll even get yourself a new guy. You're fun. You're attractive. You're young yet.

"Yeah, until he learns your X is the Clown Prince of Crime," Harley could not contain from passing her lips. She sighed and slumped exaggeratingly.

To make matters worse she saw an especially rich looking couple with their backs to her strolling like it was 1955 in that Gotham way with fedoras and pretty coats and arm in arm.

Harley allowed her tongue to slip out the side of her mouth.

"Coming through!"

Harley turned.

"Yipe!" she cried.

Someone just missed hitting her with a bike.

"Hey, kid! Ever head of a no bike zone!" snapped Harley shaking her fist.

The boy did not look back, and for a moment Harley felt like some old lady. She digressed, straitened and determined to enjoy the park for what it had to offer even if it was all by herself. She was a big girl. She didn't need company to enjoy herself.

How 'bout the ducks in the pond?

Yeah.

Or watching the pigeons?

That's fun…

"Ugh…"

Harley glanced at the couple again in a double-take. Not because she was still jealous, but because as they sat down on a park bench, she happened to notice who the girlfriend was.

Veronica Vreeland!

She smiled. It would be nice to see a friendly face; though… maybe not in front of her boyfriend again. There was a different boyfriend, though.

For a couple, they looked less close than Ronnie did with Bruce.

Can't be too close to a guy like that, she thought. He looks familiar too, though.

Meh, she would just stop by and say "hi".

She felt a little buzzed. Kinda nervous. But she wasn't going to let fear get in her way. She never had before.

Even still, she sort of tittered as she almost choked on her own voice just to say, "Good morning, there, Ronnie V."

She waved as she stooped a little with her broad and silly grin. One hand was wrapped in her deep trench-pocket.

Veronica raised a brow to her in surprise. The guy with her gaped stupidly. Obviously, way not good enough for Ronnie. She was way better off with Bruce Wayne, but then maybe that would give Harley a chance herself.

Hah!

Just think of Harley Quinn being the one person to grab and hold onto the most evasive and most eligible bachelor in Gotham.

It took Veronica a few seconds of blinking almost as stupidly, but not quite as stupidly, as her boyfriend. Then she winced.

"Harley Quinn?"

"Harley Quinn!" gasped the man with a horrid nasally sort of posh-ness that made Harley cringe as from screeching on glass. He looked with horror at Ronnie. "You don't mean that girl with the Joker that nearly—"

"I go by 'Quinzel' now, actually," said Harley proudly as her confidence rose with Ronnie's befuddlement. (Ronnie was not quite disgusted, and she seemed to be ignoring the man with the obnoxious voice.) "But you can still call me 'Harley'. Fancy meeting you here, huh?"

Ronnie smiled wryly, and lifted her eyes to the man beside her.

"Hope I'm not spoiling your date. Just wanted to say, 'hi'. I just got back into society last Sunday."

Harley winked.

Ronnie laughed. "'Date'! Oh, really! He's not my date! This is my cousin Peirce Chapman!"

"Pleased to meetchya, Peirce," said Harley holding out her hand.

Pierce stared at it like it was covered in fish guts or at least examining it for a Joker-styled hand buzzer.

Ronnie nudged her cousin. "Good ahead, don't be rude!"

But as soon as Pierce held out his hand shakily, Harley had absently taken hers away again.

"But ya coulda fooled me with how you were hanging arm in arm there, kid," teased Harley returning to Ronnie.

Pierce made a face.

"What? 'Arm in arm'?" said Ronnie, and she thought with a brief pout before a broad grin. "Oh! You mean when I got that rock in my shoe. Pierce was only keeping me from tripping." She grinned. "And I almost pulled him down with me."

"Hah! Sounds like a great cousin!" said Harley. "The only cousin I ever had woulda letchya fall on your face and then laugh at you."

Peirce muttered, "I thought we were done entertaining known criminals."

Ronnie's smile had already turned a tad sheepish after Harley's comment; she loosed a fake cough now too to hide the awkwardness.

"Hey, hey!" said Harley coming to Ronnie's rescue. "It's cool, I know my rep, but I got my head straight for real this time. See! Did myself up like a normal human being. Donated— er, returned my poor— eh, the hyenas back to the zoo. Got myself a job and an apartment, and— so what's a socialite like you doing here in the local city park, anyway, with your cousin and not your boyfriend?"

Pierce gave a sniff and rolled his eyes away.

"Oh, well, see. My father—," Ronnie began.

"General Colt?"

Ronnie tittered, although she did not know what Harley was talking about. "Yeah, well, he wants to donate this memorial to the park for the people who fought for this country. Y'know, War for Independence. He wants it here next year Fourth of July. I just offered to come have a look myself. I know it sounds kinda mundane, but I have to keep busy in the dry spells of life, after all. He insisted someone go with me, so it ended in being Pierce."

"Oh, is it to replace that statue that got destroyed by the Penguin a couple years ago?"

Pierce sniffed again and looking haughtier than before.

"Oh, probably shouldn'ta mentioned Cobbles, huh? After you invited him to your party and made him mad."

"Dear!" said Peirce suddenly.

Ronnie jumped and held Pierce back down from trying to leave the park bench.

"Here, Pierce, just scout out the area, okay? I won't be long. This is just a little thing between us. It's alright."

"She's not going to kidnap you or something, is she?"

"Hey, I can come back some other time, kid, if you wanna catch up," said Harley.

"No, I insist," said Ronnie. Then she gasped. "I know. We can get some coffee down at the shop across from the north end of the park."

"Not by yourself, you're not. Unless you've forgotten already how valuable you are," snorted Peirce.

"Alright, fine. You can come too," pouted Ronnie. "Then we can go back to our scouting mission. I'm a little peckish anyway. We skimped on breakfast."

"Well… only if you're sure," said Harley glancing from one socialite to the other.

But Ronnie was a girl after Harley's own heart. Her spontaneity made even Harley jump as she pulled her along and continued to insist upon the café.

"Wah!" cried Harley.

Ronnie was obviously in a much better mood than when Harley sort-of, accidently kidnapped her last time they met. It was enough to make Harley wonder what sort of maddie Miss Vreeland would have made if she had ever gone bad in Gotham. She would be nearly unstoppable, that's all Harley knew, except for not being overly bright.

So to the café they went. They all ordered coffee. Harley insisted upon ordering her own even if looking at the prices made her let out a little "eep!" She would have liked a cappuccino, but she ordered plain black and put in a couple sugar cubes.

"I just want to say, I'm so happy for you," said Ronnie.

"I guess, NOKD is out the window," sighed Pierce.

"Pierce, you promised," muttered Ronnie. Then to Harley she said, "Please, tell me, what're your plans? If there's anything at all I can do to help—"

"Listen, you're a sweet kid," said Harley stirring her coffee with a full bashful smile, "but if anything, I should be making something up for you. I mean, you already did the nicest thing you could dropping the charges and all." She shrugged. "And as far as plans go, I guess, I just gotta work my way up from the bottom again. I 'spose I wouldn't mind figuring out a way to make up for what I did, though. I mean, for real…"

"I think I understand. If there is one thing I know about Gotham, it's a jungle out there," said Ronnie. "And sometimes I just hate feeling so helpless."

"Helpless? Oh, no, you're hardly helpless, Ronnie girl, I can tell you that," said Harley.

"Ha, ha, well, what I mean is," said Ronnie, "really being able to do some good in this city with all those kooks, no offence."

"None taken!" said Harley happy to no longer be one.

"You're not going to tell her about what you think of Batman, are you?" grumbled Pierce.

"I think he needs more help," said Ronnie. "After being saved by him more often than I want to count—"

"Tell me about it," sighed Harley.

"I only wish I could do something myself in return. Be the next Batwoman, almost."

"Ronnie!" scolded Pierce.

"Oh, I think I know what you mean," teased Harley with a wry smile. "Who wouldn't want to be Batman's girl, huh? But he's a loner kinda guy. Even Batgirl doesn't get much out of him. I can tell ya that. He's given up having relationships, except for his son, or whatever Robin is, and he'll probably be that loner type too forever. Can't say I haven't thought about it myself though, heh!"

"I can't believe this," grumbled Pierce. "This is a convention of fan-girls."

"Then why don't you get us some more napkins or something, would you, Pierce?" asked Ronnie lightly, and not unkindly.

If he was Harley's cousin, Harley might have been more sarcastic.

Gotta admire the girl for that one, thought Harley with a grin as she watched Pierce relent and leave; though not without looking over his shoulder once or twice.

"I'd almost do it myself," whispered Harley. "Be my own hero. I got the moves and the skill."

"And the foolhardy grit," teased Ronnie. "But I suppose you just want to leave that world altogether, and I won't lie when I say, I respect you for that."

"Thanks," said Harley, "but it's not that so much, it's…"

She stopped. She did not want to give Veronica ideas, but Ronnie already guessed what it was. Harley shook her head, trying to keep her from asking. She even held up her hands a little and wagged them gently. There was no way she wanted to put Ronnie in danger.

"You need support," said Ronnie.

Harley smiled and sighed.

"I told you, I really want to make a real difference in this city, and if you really are up for it, and I wouldn't dream of pushing you if you don't want to, I would fund you. After all, a person would have to keep up with Batman, right? His weapons, his vehicles, his nice suits for every occasion!"

"Ah, kid…" said Harley, but Ronnie was sucking her in too well with her enthusiasm.

She could feel her fingers and toes already tingling. Rooftops, swinging rushes, nights on the town, facing adversaries— Harley was in no way sick of these things. She no longer wanted to be a criminal or crazy, but she could surely use everything she had for the powers of good! She was already dreaming about it as she sipped her coffee and stared out the window.

Clouds hovered over Gotham reflecting dreary reddish light. Police searchlights from blimps and helicopters swung this way and that. Sinking down into the back silhouettes of gothic architecture in the old side of the city, two shadowy figures just slipped out of the First National Bank.

An explosion!

The thugs escaped.

But a hero was on the way. With rocket propulsion, a fancy black vehicle sped through the winding streets like a heat-seeking missile. The only heat it was after was the heat burning blacktop of criminals' heals. As police chased the two thugs just a little too far behind through dark alleys, their mortal cars with their blaring sirens just missed the sight of the thugs slipping up the nearest ladder like eels.

But just as they reach the top, they saw her…

Harley Quinn!

She landed as neatly and quietly as a cat. From within her dark cape she threw her harlequin-styled shurikens, knocking the guns from those shaky hands. She leaped and attacked one, knocking him cold. She leapt for the other, but he was the feisty one. Trying to punch her with powerful swings though he was, he was simply too slow to actually hit his mark.

She threw a great punch and knocked him cold too, and by the time the police show up, Harley Quinn had swung away, cape and all. As she overlooked the city, a dry strike of lightning lit her up and blew her thick concealing cape.

Batgirl, eat your heart out all the more, thought Harley with full amusement.

"Thanks," said Harley to Ronnie. "You touch me, kid, you really do. You know me better than you think, but… What about Cuz there?"

Pierce was coming back with the napkins and a sour funk.

Ronnie smiled knowingly.

"He'd get used to it. Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. I've been thinking about something like this since Gotham found me in South America. Whether I help Gotham or ignore Gotham, Gotham will be after both of us unless we both just move to Key Largo and be done with it. We're Gothamites, through and through. It's in our blood."

Harley slugged her coffee like a shot of whisky just in time for Pierce to glare disapprovingly.

"Ah!" said Harley throwing her arm around the back of the fancy little café chair she was sitting on. "Even if it is cliché, Ronnie-girl, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship. Excuse my Franchez!"

"Oh, now what're you scheming?" Pierce demanded of Ronnie. "I knew I shouldn't've left you alone for two minutes. I don't know what gets you into trouble more, your schemes or the lunatics who foil them."

Veronica Vreeland only winked as a response.