A/N: And another terrible chapter name.

Chapter Seven: On Board

"Master Bruce, this is ridiculous." He didn't look up from the Batcomputer as Alfred spoke from next to him. "You haven't even seen her today."

"Only because she made it very clear she doesn't want anything to do with me for now," Bruce pointed out, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Sir, she's a very sick woman, I'm not sure she knows what she wants," Alfred disagreed quietly. Bruce finally leant back in his chair and looked up at him, trying to ignore the knot of guilt in his chest.

"How is she?"

"Drifting between tears and homicidal threats," he replied bluntly, though Bruce was almost certain he saw the older butler's lips were twitching. "Masters Richard and Timothy have been with her."

"Alone?" Bruce asked incredulously, already standing up. "She could kill them Alfred."

"Respectfully sir, if you thought she would kill your sons, she would not be in your house."

He looked at the older man reproachfully. "You should have told me."

"I will endeavour to remember that." Alfred nodded respectfully, but his raised eyebrow told Bruce he had no intention of doing so. Sighing, he dragged himself out of his chair and towards the stairs to the main manor, more than aware of his resemblance to a small child. He ignored the butler's badly concealed laughter from behind him.

For once, he had almost no clue of what to say to her as he trailed closer to her bedroom, and any ideas he could come up with were horribly cliché. As he drew near enough to hear voices, however, any planned conversation left his head.

The female voice inside caught him so off-guard that he barely registered Dick's. It was light and feminine, but without a hint of Harley Quinn's accent and grating, high pitch tone. Bruce smiled to himself without realising.

It had been a long time since he had heard Dr Harleen Quinzel speak.

He knocked quickly, warmth welling in his chest as she called for him to come in. Bruce stepped into the room and couldn't help his grin widening as he took in the view before him. Tim was asleep on Harleen's shoulder, an abandoned coffee mug next to him. One of her arms was wrapped around him, while the other held a controller as she quickly paused the game. Dick sat cross-legged beside her, the bed more than big enough for the three of them. Judging by the empty plates, the boys had been in there for a long time. But that wasn't what caught Bruce's attention the most.

Unlike the day before, Harleen's hair was out of her pigtails and pulled up into a sloppy ponytail. Instead of his white shirt, she was wearing denim shorts and a white shirt of her own, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. But the biggest change was her face. The makeup was entirely wiped away, leaving her lips pink, cheeks rosy and skin more golden than he had expected. It had been years since he had seen her without the paint – and never looking so relaxed and casual. He wasn't entirely prepared, and simply stared for a moment.

"Bruce? Everything okay?" Harleen's voice was concerned.

"Of course," Bruce said, wiping the smile off his face quickly, "I just came up to check that you're alright, but it doesn't seem necessary now." He smiled gently as Tim curled himself closer to Harleen.

Dick laughed. "Yeah, we've been here since around 4. Tim fell asleep after an hour or so - late night I guess." Bruce sent a small smile towards his son, but kept his eyes fixed on Harleen, waiting for... Well, he wasn't entirely sure what he was waiting for.

"I'm sorry Bruce."

But it wasn't that.

"I shouldn't have said –" she cut herself off. "Harley shouldn't have said the things she did last night. I know how much you're putting yourself in the line for me, and it means a lot that you would do that." She was blushing slightly, her eyes unable to meet his in her embarrassment and instead fixed on his left shoulder. Bruce smiled at her reassuringly.

"Harleen... Everyone just wants what's best for you, that's the reason you're here. I understand you were stressed last night, you had every right to be. Just remember that everyone in this room - "

"Including the little guy drooling on your shoulder." Dick interjected helpfully, making Harleen giggle.

" - Wants you to be Harleen Quinzel for the rest of your life, not Harley Quinn." He found, to his surprise, that his words felt true even to him. Perhaps rehabilitation was not solely for Gotham City's benefit.

There were tears in her eyes by the time he had finished speaking, and she gently kissed the head of the still-sleeping Tim. Bruce watched her curiously, a smile on his face as he saw the affection in Harleen's eyes as she gazed at his son. In the two years that he had known Tim as a son, he had never seen him sleep around anyone other than himself, Dick and Alfred. It was a surprise, but a welcome one.

"I want that too. That's why..." The young woman took a deep breath and sighed, before staring straight at Bruce. "That's why I'm on board."

The two men stared at her, hardly daring to believe what they heard. "What do you mean by 'on board', exactly?" Dick asked.

"I mean I want to recover. It's not going to be easy for anyone involved, and Harley's gonna put up one hell of a fight, but I'm done with this life. Anything you want me to do, I'll do it. I want to be Harleen Quinzel again. Completely." She was smiling as the spoke her next words. "Tell Alfred I'll need dark brown hair dye."

Bruce was absolutely powerless to stop the smile from creeping onto his face, but that wasn't a problem. She wanted to change. She truly did. Thank God.

Nevertheless, he had to make sure she understood. "You know that this will be the hardest thing you've ever done, don't you? You're sick Harleen, and your friends –"

"They're not my friends," she argued sharply, her eyes glinting in annoyance. "They're hers, and he's her boyfriend, not mine They can rot in hell." Her voice softened for a moment. "Well, not all of them. Pamela's always been kind to me, I think she'd be happy if I got better."

Privately, Bruce wasn't entirely sure that he agreed with her; while Ivy definitely cared for her, he wasn't certain that her feelings would continue should Harleen recover. But it wasn't his place to comment, so he stayed quiet as she continued. "A week ago, if you asked me, I would've said you were just another asshole CEO." Dick stifled a laugh. "And now you guys are taking me in just 'cause you want to. I don't know anyone else that would do that."

"It's not just us though."

Tim had woken up. He shifted into a sitting position on the bed, smiling at Bruce when he realised his dad had joined them while he had been sleeping. "Batman, Nightwing and Robin all have faith in you too - hell, Batman was the one who actually brought you here." Bruce resisted the temptation to send a warning look to Robin, knowing that he would never intentionally give a clue about their identities away. It would have been quite a leap, but he wasn't sure that it would be impossible for her to figure out who they were.

Fortunately, she clearly wasn't thinking much about it. Harleen ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Yeah, I guess I have known Batsy for a while, haven't I?" She laughed. "Ten years, actually, I met him when I first moved to Gotham, when I was 16."

"Really?" Dick asked in surprise, shooting Bruce a quick glance. "How?"

She laughed, though her cheeks had reddened. "I, uh, went for a walk in the park and he showed up. I learnt pretty quick not to act shady at night in Gotham." Bruce resisted a smile. He remembered the day, probably better than she did. It was in his early days as Batman, and even he could admit that his paranoia had caused him to be harsher than necessary with her.

They all stayed together for a while longer, the atmosphere so pleasant that Bruce could almost pretend he and Dick were on good terms. Harleen Quinzel was just as smart and witty as he remembered her to be on the two occasions he had visited Arkham as himself. Her jokes were almost as bad as Dick's and her comebacks better than Tim's, and he found her to be extremely good company. From the look that Tim gave him, it was clear he wasn't the only person who preferred Harleen over Harley.

Two hours later, Bruce found himself in his Batsuit outside Harleen's door. He wasn't quite sure what possessed him to visit Harleen in his suit mere hours after talking to her without it. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he felt guilty for causing her so much distress.

She was awake when he opened the door as quietly as possible, laying on her bed gazing up at the ceiling. "Do you think I can change, Batsy?" To his disappointment, her voice had risen to the pitch of Harley Quinn, with no sign of the lovely woman he had met earlier.

The bluntness of her question caught Bruce off guard for a minute, before he quickly recovered his composure. "Yes I do." He wondered if he should say more, but situations like these weren't known to be a strength of his.

The young woman gave a short laugh at that. "That's what everyone keeps sayin'. 'You ain't evil Harleen, ya just need ya head screwed on a little straighter.'"

"What do you think?"

"I think those people ain't neva been in love. No one gives two shits I ain't got nothin' to come outta Arkham to, all of youse jus' want me gone." She scowled for a second, another thought coming into her head. "Least I'm better than some of the ones you don't care about catchin',"

Batman found himself subconsciously moving towards her as she spoke, and now realised he was very close to the bed. "What do you mean?" He could have reached out and touched her, if he'd wanted.

"I could be like Selina Kyle." She scowled as she said the name, like it was an offensive term, and Bruce wondered why. As far as any of them knew – and according to Selina herself – the two women were very good friends.

"Why would that be a bad thing?"

"Let's just say I wasn't a fan of the way she treated Bruce Wayne – nice guy, didn't deserve that." He stiffened at her words; Selina's infidelity had cut him deeply, but he hadn't been aware that it was public knowledge. Before he could ask anything more, however, Harley yawned, a sound filled with pure exhaustion.

The Dark Knight smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest bit. "I'll let you get some sleep." He said, turning towards the door. He had almost left the room before he heard her quiet voice.

"Stay."

He turned back to her and stared, unsure what he had just heard. "Pardon?"

"I said stay. I know you're busy, but I don't want to be on my own tonight. Please." Her voice was small and vulnerable, her bright blue eyes impossibly large.

Trying - in vain - to control the churning in his stomach and hoping his cowl hid the faint blush on his cheeks, Bruce walked back over to the bed. Harley shifted so there was space for both of them, and he slipped under the covers, instantly enveloped by warmth. The woman beside him immediately curled up against him, her head and hand on his chest, and his arms - seemingly of their own accord - wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him until he could feel her heart beating. Within seconds, her breathing evened out, and Harley fell asleep.

This had been a bad idea. Harleen Quinzel may be the smarter of the two, but Harley was deadly. Lying in bed with her was the perfect way to get himself hurt, just like Barbara had warned.

In spite of all this, however, he couldn't bring himself to move when he huddled closer to him under her blankets and murmured in her sleep. She looked more harmless than he had ever seen a criminal before, and – for once – he ignored the voice telling him to leave the room as soon as possible. Perhaps it was guilt for upsetting her so much the day before, but he was desperate to tell her something. But only if he knew she couldn't hear.

And it wasn't until half an hour later, when he was certain the woman in his arms was indeed asleep, that Batman leaned down to whisper into her ear, "My favourite colour is blue."

A/N: Tell me your thoughts!