"Boy, I never really understood the purpose of a bra before this," commented Harley, as she pulled on the bra Ivy had let her borrow. "That is some essential support right there. And look, the dress even has these little cups attached to it for extra support," she commented, as she pulled on the green dress from Ivy. "I've learned all these new things today, so that's good, I guess."
"Yeah, it's been a real revelation," retorted Joker.
"Why are you so grumpy?" asked Harley, turning to him. "I know you're disappointed that Red's responsible for my boobs, but I thought we had a nice time with them in bed earlier."
"It's not that," he said.
"Well, what is it?" she asked.
He gestured to her. "You don't even look like yourself, Harl," he said. "You're not wearing your clown makeup, and you got your giant melons and a green dress on and your blond hair down…you look like a completely different person."
"Are you saying you're actually so superficial that my breast size, and my hair, clothing, and makeup is what defines me to you?" demanded Harley.
"No, I'm not saying that," retorted Joker. "I'm just saying you don't look like Harley, and I don't like it. I mean, I know you are Harley – I'm not stupid. But I miss my girl looking like my girl. Right now you just look like a stranger, and I know you aren't, but it's just kinda uncanny and creepy. It would be like if Bats suddenly decided to take off his mask. The guy would still be Bats, but it would be weird that he didn't look like Bats anymore, and I wouldn't like it. I mean, would you like it if I had a normal skin color and brown hair, for instance?"
"I'd still love you," retorted Harley. "But I guess it would be a little disconcerting."
She kissed him. "Although…it is still Valentine's Day. What do you say you put on a little of that flesh-colored makeup and temporary hair dye, and we roleplay that we're two strangers in a bar meeting for a one night stand? That might turn things from disconcerting to desirable really, really fast."
"That…might work," conceded Joker, returning her kisses. "What would your stranger name be?"
"Mmm, I dunno," purred Harley. "What would yours be?"
"Oh, one of my aliases," he said. "Jack Napier, Jack White, Mark Hamill, that kinda thing."
"I kinda wish I had more aliases," said Harley. "Now I gotta think when I'm getting all excited, which is kinda impossible. Why don't you name me, puddin'?"
"Mmm, all right," he said. "Let me think."
"It can't be a real person," snapped Harley, pulling away suddenly. "I don't want you thinking about anyone else but me. So no female comedians, actresses, reporters, or anyone else who actually exists as a person."
"Fair enough, pooh," he replied. "Let's see…how about Fiona Flufflefeathers?"
"That's a sexy name to you?" demanded Harley.
"No, it's a funny name to me," he replied. "And you know how funny things get me in the mood. And nobody on this earth would ever have such a ridiculous name as Fiona Flufflefeathers, so it's safe from your real person mandate."
"Sounds good," said Harley, nodding as she pulled him toward the bed.
"I thought you wanted me to put on the flesh-colored makeup," he said.
"No, don't worry about that," said Harley. "I'm in the mood right now and I don't wanna wait any longer."
"Hold on a second, pooh," he said, gently pushing her away. "I want to do this right if we're doing this. We're meant to be meeting as strangers in a bar before we move on to the bedroom. So I am putting on the makeup and the temporary hair dye, and I will see you around the corner in The Stacked Deck in five minutes."
"But puddin', I can't go out like this," said Harley. "What if someone sees me?"
"Who's gonna see you at that dump?" demanded Joker. "Just barflys who are too drunk and too dumb to recognize you even if you looked like yourself. Now c'mon, pumpkin, this'll be so much hotter if it's done properly. And you do wanna be done properly, don't you?" he murmured, kissing her.
"I guess," sighed Harley. "All right – see you in five minutes."
Joker left, and Harley waited impatiently, staring at the clock, until the five minutes were up. Then she stood up, pleased at the support the bra gave her in walking, and made her way out of the hideout and around the corner to The Stacked Deck.
She pushed open the door and looked around carefully, but the Joker was right – the place was dim and mostly deserted. She entered the bar, and immediately regretted her decision, as the few men who wallowed there all turned and started staring at her chest, open-mouthed.
"Holy moly – Happy Valentine's Day to me!" gasped one of the men, and the other men all murmured in agreement.
Harley felt horribly uncomfortable being stared at, but she was saved from the awkwardness by a familiar voice gasping, "Harley?"
Harley turned with dread to see one of their henchmen, Rocco, staring at her in disbelief. "Harley…what…" he stammered.
"Shh, Roc!" hissed Harley, hurrying over to him. "I got a temporary boob job done for Valentine's Day, but they'll be back to normal soon, so don't tell anybody about it, ok?"
"Uh…ok," said Rocco, slowly. "But what are you doing here?"
"Me and Mr. J are gonna do a little sexy roleplay," whispered Harley. "He's gonna pick me up at this bar and take me back to the hideout. Just pretend you don't notice, and I'll make it up to you. I don't want this thing with my boobs getting out – it's kinda embarrassing."
"Don't worry, Harley," said Rocco. "Lips are sealed. And there's nobody in this dive who recognizes you anyway," he said, looking around. "But then again, some men don't focus on faces."
"Yeah, I've noticed," muttered Harley. "They're just boobs, guys!" she shouted. "I'm sure you've seen 'em before, but then looking at some of you, maybe you ain't!"
"Well, J's here, so I'm just gonna go," said Rocco, as the Joker entered the bar wearing flesh-colored makeup and dark hair dye. "Happy Valentine's Day, Harley."
"Thanks, Roc," said Harley, taking a seat at the bar as her heart pounded in excitement.
"Hi," said Joker, sitting down next to her. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"I guess," said Harley, trying to feign disinterest.
Joker beckoned the bartender over and ordered two drinks. "You know, this is kinda a dangerous place for an attractive dame like you to be all alone," continued Joker, turning back to her.
"I can handle myself," replied Harley.
"I bet you can," he replied. "But wouldn't you prefer it if someone else handled you?"
Harley couldn't resist giggling, taking her drink from the bartender and sipping playfully on her straw. "I'm Mark Hamill – nice to meet you," Joker said, holding out his hand.
"Fiona Flufflefeathers," said Harley, shaking his hand.
"Miss Flufflefeathers, I don't know if anyone has ever told you this, but you have a beautiful name," he said. "Among other things," he added with a grin.
"I'm sure you mean my eyes," replied Harley. "Which are up here," she added.
"Yes, I'm sure the first thing everyone notices is your beautiful eyes," he said, grinning. "Tell me, Miss Flufflefeathers, would you be looking for somebody to ruffle your feathers tonight?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Hamill," she replied.
"I can be a little obtuse sometimes – let me just get straight to the point and grab life by the lemons, as it were," he said, putting his hand on her breast.
"Mr. Hamill!" exclaimed Harley, throwing her drink in his face suddenly. "You cad!"
The act of violence, tame as it was, was the final straw for the Joker, who suddenly seized her in his arms and began mauling her with kisses. Harley returned them, running her hands through his hair and down his face. Her caresses, combined with the drink she had thrown at him, caused the dye and makeup to begin to drip off, revealing him to be the Joker.
They remained in the bar only a few more moments before swiftly heading back to the hideout, remaining constantly locked in a passionate embrace. Their little roleplay had had its intended effect on them, but a completely unintended, unexpected, and unwanted effect had also resulted from it.
One of the lonely men in The Stacked Deck was newly single reporter Jack Ryder, who hadn't shaved in days, and hadn't expected anything this Valentine's Day except to drown his sorrows in liquor at the bar. He had definitely not expected the scoop of the century to fall into his lap while there, but cell phones being as discreet as they are, he even had photographic proof that the Joker was cheating on Harley Quinn by having an affair with a woman named Fiona Flufflefeathers.