"Well, Miss Flufflefeathers, I was not expecting you to be such a naughty girl," sighed Joker, as he and Harley lay in bed together.
"I think you kinda were though, Mr. Hamill," purred Harley, kissing him. "You're right, puddin', this was super hot," she said, cuddling against him. "We should do stranger roleplay more often. Even when my boobs are back to normal, I could get a wig or something."
"Speaking of which, what is keeping that useless weed with your cure?" demanded Joker, reaching for his phone.
"Aw, c'mon, puddin', don't nag her," said Harley, grabbing it away from him. "I'm sure she's working as fast as she can, but this science stuff takes trial and error."
"That had better be what it is – she better not have dumped this project to go on some Valentine's Day date with Harvey or something," growled Joker.
"No, Harvey's outta town this year," said Harley. "Red's big Valentine's Day plan was to pick up a stranger in a bar and use her serum on them, so I think she can put that on hold."
"Well, I certainly enjoyed it," chuckled Joker. "All the fun of meeting new people without the risk of picking up STDs!"
"I enjoyed pretending to be appalled by the clown stuff, and then gradually getting into it," agreed Harley. "I think it really spices up a relationship by bringing almost a different perspective to it. I'll certainly bear it in mind if I ever get my shrink license back and go into couples counseling."
"Do you think anybody is gonna hire a therapist who's also a notorious criminal?" asked Joker.
"I don't see why not – I have a unique and therefore valuable insight into insanity," replied Harley. "And our relationship is so strong and solid, it's a role model for any couple."
"That's true, pooh," said Joker, kissing her and sitting up. "I'm gonna get a snack – you want any ice cream?" he asked, getting dressed.
"Yeah, with all the trimmings," said Harley, nodding. "Sprinkles, chocolate fudge sauce, peanut butter, whipped cream, nuts, bananas, marshmallows, Reese's Pieces, M&Ms, Oreos, and cherries."
"I'll throw in the kitchen sink too," chuckled Joker, as he headed for the kitchen. He whistled as he scooped ice cream into two bowls, and then added all the toppings.
There was a knock on the door, and Joker paused on his way back to the bedroom, balancing the ice cream bowls in one hand as he opened it.
"Johnny, what an unpleasant surprise," he commented. "What are you doing here? And what's with the giant teddy bear?"
"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm doing here!" snapped Crane. "Did you think you could just get away with it?"
"Get away with…what?" asked Joker, slowly. "I get away with a lotta stuff – I'm the Joker. Are you talking about those bodies I hid in the Wax Museum that nobody's found yet? Or that map to buried treasure I stuck on the back of the Declaration of Independence? Or those barrels of toxic waste I stored underneath the playground to see if I could create my own race of clown mutants?"
"Is this a joke to you?" demanded Crane.
"Uh…yes," said Joker. "I'm the Joker, so…pretty much everything is a joke to me. Including whatever you think I've gotten away with."
"Well, you are not getting away with treating that precious angel like dirt this time!" snapped Crane. "You were caught, you appalling libertine, and now the world knows what a disgusting creature you are, and she will too, mark my words!"
"What?" asked Joker, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about? I think you've actually snapped this time, Craney, with your hallucinations…"
"I'm not hallucinating this!" he snapped, shoving the paper in his face. "You were photographed philandering with another woman!"
Joker stared at the headline Joker Enjoys Bar Liaison with Mystery Woman, and then his eyes fixed on the image in the paper. "Well, darn," he muttered.
"That's all you have to say after being caught red-handed?" demanded Crane. "Well, darn?"
"Yeah, look, it's not what you think…" began Joker.
"Don't go making excuses!" interrupted Crane. "You can't talk your way out of this one when the proof is right in front of your eyes!"
"No, you've got this wrong, and you wanna stop now before you embarrass yourself," retorted Joker. "Because that's me and Harley in that photo."
Crane stared at him. "You must think I'm a complete idiot to buy that!" he retorted. "That looks nothing like Harley!"
"You can't even see her face – you're just judging by her appearance, and frankly, that's a little insulting of you, Craney," retorted Joker. "But trust me, it's Harley."
"Where is Harley?" demanded Crane. "Because I think she needs to know about this, don't you?"
"No, I don't," snapped Joker. "I think it would just upset her for no reason. This is gonna blow over in a few days, and it's better that she doesn't know so she doesn't freak out…"
"You are actually despicable, you know that?" demanded Crane. "She has a right to know you cheated on her!"
"No, she doesn't, because I didn't!" snapped Joker. "Plus this is really none of your business, so why don't you get the hell off my property before I murder you with an ice cream spoon, and you know that ain't an empty threat on my part!"
Joker's phone rang suddenly. "Harley, thank God!" he said, answering it.
"Puddin', what's going on out there?" asked Harley. "I heard shouting…"
"Would you please tell Professor Lame here that I've been with you all day?" demanded Joker, passing the phone over to Crane.
"It's true, Johnny, he has," said Harley. "What's up?"
"Harley, it pains me to be the bearer of bad tidings, but the paper has published a photo of the Joker in the arms of another woman," said Crane.
"Aw, that's just cheap, tabloid gossip, Johnny," said Harley. "They use all sorts of photo-editing tricks to fake these scandals. Remember Bat Boy? Although I think the jury's still out on whether he's Batman's illegitimate kid or not…anyway, trust me, that isn't Mr. J in the photo. He hasn't been outta my sight all day until just now when he went to get ice cream."
"No, he was fooling around earlier with a woman called Fiona Flufflefeathers, according to this article," said Crane. "Ridiculous name if you ask me."
Harley was silent. "The…the papers have printed that?" she stammered. "Do they…have a picture of her?"
"You can't see her face clearly, but she appears to be blonde, wearing a green dress, and with a prominent bust," said Crane. "She's not someone you know, is she?"
"Uh…she might be," stammered Harley. "This story…it is in a tabloid, right?"
"No, it's in the Gotham Gazette," retorted Crane. "Written by Jack Ryder, who submitted the photos, apparently, and gives his own eyewitness account."
"Really? Jack Ryder?" demanded Harley. "Now that's a little insulting – you'd think he'd recognize me no matter how I look superficially after his whole Creeper obsession with me! But I guess that was just superficial too, and I'm gonna stop being flattered by it!"
"Harley, what are you talking about?" asked Crane.
"Just…come into the bedroom, Johnny," sighed Harley. "I guess you deserve the truth."
"Hey pooh, just make sure you're wearing something," said Joker, taking the phone back from Crane as he headed into the bedroom. "Don't wanna give the professor a heart attack, because I sure as heck ain't giving him CPR. On second thought, maybe don't be wearing something and do give him a heart attack and do us all a favor."
Crane glared at Joker as he opened the door. "Ok, don't freak out," said Harley, who had pulled on Ivy's dress and turned to face him. "They're not permanent."
Crane stared at her, open-mouthed. "Harley…what have you done?" he gasped.
"I was drunk, and stupid, and I injected my boobs with this serum Red made to make guys bigger to surprise Mr. J on Valentine's Day, but he doesn't like 'em because they're from Red, and because he loves me for who I am, and I don't like 'em because they're a huge pain in the ass and make it hard for me to do the things I usually do, like my gymnastics, so both of us want me to go back to normal, but this serum Red made is new, and she has to make an antidote from scratch, so we thought while we're waiting for Red to fix 'em, we'd do some roleplay as strangers picking each other up at a bar, which was really hot and really spiced up our sex life, but now people are thinking that Mr. J actually picked up another girl at a bar, and they're gonna think he's cheating on me, and I know I shouldn't care about the opinions of people who hate Mr. J for being a murderer anyway, but if he actually were cheating on me, I'd kill him slowly and painfully, and I certainly wouldn't stick around him because I've actually got more self-worth than that, and Mr. J knows it, but now I'm gonna have to stick around and play the devoted girlfriend even though everyone thinks he cheated on me, and I don't want people thinking of me as some weak pushover who ain't got no backbone because I'm afraid to stand up to a guy who cheats on me, and I know people already think I'm a weak pushover with no backbone because I put up with the abuse and the violence, but I love the abuse and the violence, and people don't get that so they think I'm pathetic and weak, and this will only add to that, and this whole mess could have been avoided if I just didn't feel so insecure, but I am secure in Mr. J's feelings for me, so that's all I need, but now there's gonna be horrible consequences all because I was subconsciously influenced by societal ideas of female attractiveness, and I valued those over my own ideas of self and the guy who loves me!"
She burst into tears, and Joker handed her the ice cream bowl. "It's probably mostly melted after that long sentence, but it'll make you feel better," he said.
"Harley…you honestly don't know how beautiful you are?" stammered Crane. "I mean…before all this…not that you're not attractive now," he added, hastily. "Although I've never found that feature of a woman particularly desirable."
"That's right – I forget you're gay," sniffed Harley, eating her ice cream.
"I'm not gay," snapped Crane. "Men just have different preferences…but anyway, it shouldn't matter…"
"I know it shouldn't!" sobbed Harley, stuffing her face with ice cream. "But it does! I know intellectually I shouldn't care, but when you've got people telling you your whole life that you don't look good enough, when you were bullied at school for being different and unattractive, you can tell yourself whatever you want, but it does matter!"
"I understand how you might think that, believe me," said Crane, gently. "But it doesn't matter, Harley. Just because it hurts doesn't mean it matters."
"Now c'mon, pooh, dry those eyes," said Joker. "I got a great, fun thing we can do to end Valentine's Day on a high note, and sort this whole mess out."
"Yeah?" asked Harley, sniffing as she wiped her eyes. "What is it?"
"We find Jack Ryder and threaten him with death unless he publicly admits he doctored those photos," said Joker. "And if he doesn't comply, we'll actually kill him. Wouldn't that be a perfect, romantic end to the day?"
"I guess," agreed Harley. She sniffled. "Can we beat him a little even if he does comply?"
"Of course we can, pooh bear," said Joker, patting her head. "Whatever my bloodthirsty little baby wants."
"Aw, Mr. J, you're just the greatest!" said Harley, embracing him tightly. "And you too, Johnny – it's sweet of you to come all the way over here to defend my honor," she said, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek. "You're such a great friend. That's probably why I keep thinking you're gay, because you're like my gay best friend. Just sweet and thoughtful and always there for me. I really appreciate it, and I especially appreciate you taking the time out of your day when you're clearly on your way to see some lucky lady who's gonna get a giant teddy bear from you. Now c'mon, Mr. J, let's go find ourselves a reporter to threaten," she said, taking Joker's hand and leading him out of the bedroom.
"See you around, Professor Friendzone!" chuckled Joker. "Have a happy Valentine's Day with nobody tonight!"
"I'll have you know, I'm intending to have a very happy Valentine's Day with a large number of people tonight!" snapped Crane. "In that I'm going to fear gas them, not in the way you might be thinking with orgies and such…oh, never mind," he muttered, crumpling up the newspaper and throwing it over his shoulder. "It's just no use, and nobody cares. I might just stay in and drink tonight," he said, stuffing the teddy bear in a dumpster on his way out. "I truly hate this holiday."