"Hey, you're back!" said Jack, as Harley opened the door to their apartment carrying a box with the last of her stuff from her dorm room. "How did it go?"
"Fine," she replied. "Julia didn't get it – she just kept crying and telling me to reconsider. In the end, I just had to tell her bye and shut the door. I don't think we'll be hanging out anymore."
"That's a shame," said Jack. "I feel guilty alienating you first from your parents, and now your friends…"
"Believe me, Jack, the only friend I want or need is right here," she said, putting down the box and wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek. "Smells good," she said, nodding at the pasta he was cooking on the stove. "Though really I should be the one cooking for you."
"How's that?" he asked, grinning at her. "You may wanna be Little Miss Housewife, but I remember when your Mom tried to teach you to cook and you nearly set the apartment on fire."
"One little mistake and nobody lets me live it down," she sighed. "Anyway, wouldn't you like to see me in a little white apron?"
"Mmm, and nothing else," he agreed, kissing her. "But I've sampled your cooking, Harley, and trust me, it's for the best that I do this."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Be that way, meanie," she said, heading over to unpack the box. She pulled out the creased picture of Jack and grinned, then bounced over to show him. "Here's the picture of you I used to talk to," she said.
He looked at it, and made a face. "I hate my hair in that. And I've got a goofy smile."
"You've got a gorgeous smile," she retorted, kissing him. "As usual."
She returned to the box. "Oh, and here's someone you'll recognize!" she said, pulling out her worn clown doll. "Harley Quinn!"
"Boy, do I ever remember her!" laughed Jack. "I remember you had to hold her every night while I read you that goddamn Joker the Clown Joins the Circus book."
"I don't remember that story," said Harley, frowning.
"Of course you do!" he exclaimed. "Christ, I read it to you so many times I could probably recite it from memory! Joker the clown? Green hair, purple suit? Joins the circus and wants to be an acrobat, and then a lion tamer, and then a ringmaster? And you know he's gonna end up as a clown, because that's given away by the title, but you still have to read about all his failed attempts over and over again. It was so predictable, but you just loved it. The pictures were nice, I guess."
He flipped the pasta into a strainer. "For years that's what you wanted to be when you grew up. A clown. When did you drop that ambition to become a shrink?" he asked, grinning at her.
"I dunno – probably when I realized that doctors make more money than clowns," she retorted.
He shrugged. "Money isn't everything. You gotta love what you do. And have you ever seen an unhappy clown?"
"Maybe you should apply to be one," said Harley. "Since you're in between jobs. I think being a clown would suit you, especially since you think you already got a goofy smile."
"I do have a goofy smile," he retorted.
"No, you got a sexy smile," she purred, putting her arms around him again. "So I guess that rules you out. Who ever heard of a sexy clown?"
"What about you, Harley Quinn?" he chuckled, turning to kiss her. "You are one sexy little clown, who is making my slide whistle grow just looking at you."
She giggled as they kissed, which was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," she said, grinning at him and drawing reluctantly away. "Don't let that slide whistle droop."
He chuckled, returning his attention to the pasta while Harley skipped over to open the door. "Hi. Can I help you?" she asked.
"Just looking for Jack Napier, sweetheart – is he around?" asked a familiar voice that sent Jack's heart plummeting into his stomach.
He turned off the burner and then headed toward the door. "Sal, what a pleasant surprise!" he said, forcing a smile. "I wasn't expecting you – you should have called before dropping by!"
"Why? Do you have things you don't want me to see?" asked Sal Valestra, smiling at Harley as he entered the living room.
"No, just…would have got the place cleaned up for you," muttered Jack. "And we're just about to sit down to dinner, so..."
"I already ate, don't worry about me," said Sal, taking a seat in the living room. He smiled at Harley. "Won't you introduce us, Jack?"
"Harley, this is Salvatore Valestra, who I've mentioned," growled Jack. "Sal, this is Harleen Quinzel. My…girlfriend."
Sal beamed. "So you're Jack's girl!" he said. "So nice to finally meet you, Harley. I can see why Jack was so reluctant to drag himself away from you," he chuckled, kissing Harley's hand. "My, he likes them young, doesn't he?" he asked, smiling unpleasantly at her. "I trust you're legal."
"Of course I am!" snapped Harley.
"I don't doubt it for a second!" chuckled Sal. "Straight and narrow Jack Napier would never do something illegal, let alone someone! He's a good man now."
"Yes, he is," retorted Harley, cuddling Jack gently. "Now how can we help you, Mr. Valestra?"
Sal grinned at her. "Jack's less hospitable with you around, sweetheart – normally he offers me a smoke and a drink. Just common decency toward your guests, really."
"What kind of drink do you want?" asked Harley, as Jack handed Sal his cigarette case.
"I'll help myself – don't want a pretty dame waiting on me," said Sal, standing up and heading to the kitchen. "Anyway, you're probably not old enough to handle alcohol!" he laughed. He sat back down with his glass and lit up his cigarette, leaning back in his chair.
"Is there some purpose to your visit here, Mr. Valestra?" asked Harley.
Sal grinned. "Just stopped by for a friendly chat with my old pal Jack," he said. "I knew his parents, y'know, knew his mother very well," he chuckled. "And I've been keeping a fatherly eye on him for years, just to make sure he's doing all right, making the most of his talents and potential, for his parents' sake."
He puffed out a cloud of smoke. "How about that talent and potential, Jack? Have you considered my generous job offer?"
"I have," retorted Jack. "And the answer's no, Sal."
Sal said nothing, looking at his cigarette. "I don't like negativity, y'know, Jackie boy," he murmured. "No is probably my least favorite word. Nothing worse than stubborn refusal – the key to getting on in life is compromise. You know that, don't you?"
He tapped the ashes of the cigarette onto the carpet. "For instance, we could compromise on this little job of mine. You could do it for me, and I could continue to let you live in peace and happiness with your little girlfriend here. Or you could refuse to do it, which would be very unpleasant of you, and I would have to compromise by doing something unpleasant in return, either to you or to your little girlfriend."
He inhaled from the cigarette. "It's up to you, of course. I'm not the kinda guy who forces people to do things they don't want to do. A man makes his own choices in life, that's my motto, and lives with the consequences."
He exhaled slowly, smiling. "But if you do wanna help your old pal Sal out, you should meet me at the Ace Chemicals plant at ten o'clock Friday evening. I hope I'll see you there. For Harley's sake," he said, smiling at her.
He stood up. "Think it over," he said, heading for the door. "Think it over very carefully, Jack. I'll see you soon."
He left, and Jack let out the breath he had been holding. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" he gasped. "Jesus Christ…"
"You don't have to go, puddin'," said Harley, firmly, hugging him tightly. "I ain't afraid of Sal Valestra…"
"You should be!" he shouted. "Only an idiot wouldn't be! Oh God, what am I gonna do?" he said, running his fingers through his hair.
"We could run away," said Harley. "Leave Gotham…"
"You think a man like Sal Valestra couldn't find us?" demanded Jack. "No, wherever we'd go, he'd make us pay. He's too powerful to escape from…too powerful to refuse…"
He let out a sob, and Harley embraced him, stroking his hair back and shushing him. "I can't…be a criminal again, Harley!" he gasped, clutching her tightly. "I can't go back to that lifestyle..."
"You think I won't still love you?" she whispered. "Because I will, whatever happens."
He said nothing, holding her tightly. "Promise?" he whispered at last.
"I promise, puddin'," she said, kissing him. "Whatever happens."
He nodded slowly. "Ok, then," he whispered. "I'll…I'll do this job, and that's it. Just one, tiny operation, and then we'll be free of him."
"You trust him to keep his word?" asked Harley. "You don't think he'll just keep blackmailing you into working for him?"
"No, I don't," murmured Jack. "I don't think he'll survive the operation, Harley. In fact, I'm going to see to it that he doesn't."
Harley stared at him. "You're going to…murder him?"
"He'll just keep interfering in our life if I don't," he whispered. "It's the only way to be rid of him for good, don't you understand? It's the only way I can be…good again. I've gotta kill him. And then the past will be laid to rest, and I can live the rest of my life with you, as a good man. No more crime, no more violence, no more need for guns. Just the two of us…together and happy forever. Doesn't that sound wonderful, Harley? Doesn't that sound like something worth killing for?"
She stared into his desperate, pleading eyes, and then kissed him tenderly. "Yeah, puddin'," she whispered. "Yeah, it does."