The Dark Knight and all its contents are the copyright of the Nolan Brothers and Warner Bros. I own nothing.

Tide

Chapter 4

"All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name." - Andre Breton

If there was a hell, it was Gotham General Hospital. The big neon Emergency sign bathed the black asphalt and concrete of the building in a disconcerting reddish hue, and would momentarily flicker off and on before buzzing and settling into a continuous hum. Cries of the dying, the pitter patter of dripping gurneys and the wails and screams of the sick and maimed could be heard from the inside.

Harleen was used to it. In fact, she often welcomed it because it took away from the quiet, boring normalcy of her life. At first it took some getting used to; the sight of blood was enough to make her sprint to the bathroom before her body would begin to reject the food she ate prior to coming into work. You can never really grow numb to such things, she realized, but with time your empathetic nature becomes much more unsubstantial. It's like a switch you have to turn off and on, because if you allow yourself to feel too much in this line of work, you will literally destroy yourself. People die and the world moves on.

Harley was already an hour late getting off work- Paramedics had to fly a woman in by helicopter after her husband blew her face off with a double-barreled shotgun. The hospital was typically quiet on a Wednesday night, except for the occasional screams and moans, of course, but tonight it was alive with a flurry of activity. Harley nearly blanched when she was told she'd have to shove tubes into the woman's face where her nose used to be in order to enable her to breathe properly, but she quickly sucked it up and did what she was told, switching her emotions off for the time being. She had to keep her patient bent forward so that she wouldn't suffocate on her own blood.

When the woman began to choke out a few sobs, Harley softly rubbed her back to get her to calm down. "It's alright," She cooed. "Everything is going to be alright."

The woman simply groaned in response and tried to free her hands from her restraints. Despite how horrible it made her feel, Harley had to tie the woman's hands down once she was settled into her room because she kept trying to touch what was left of her face, but when the woman began sobbing again after a few seconds of quiet, Harley reached down and gently held one of the woman's hands in her own.

The woman tightly gripped Harleen's hand in return and grew quiet once more.

Once the woman's bleeding was under control, , the head doctor, came in and administered a heavy sedative. The woman's grip on Harley's hand slowly loosened. Once asleep, Harley gently laid her down on her back before pulling a blanket up over her sleeping form, tucking it tenderly underneath her body for warmth.

"You'd think that some people have never heard of the word 'divorce' before," said, jotting down a few notes before looking up at Harley. "Instead of serving divorce papers, that jackass did a real number on her. Either that or she had one hell of an insurance claim." With that chuckled to himself and clicked his pen shut before tossing the woman's files into a bin.

Harley smiled coldly before slipping into her jacket. "It's a bit too soon to be cracking jokes like that. I don't find her situation funny in the least."

scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. "You're right, . I'm sorry. You make me a bit nervous sometimes, that's all."

At that Harley turned to leave, but called out to her before she had the chance.

"Wait, Harleen. I'm sorry, really," He said, walking over to her. When Harley stared up at him, her blue eyes piercing his, he felt himself shift awkwardly."I know this may be a bad time, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out and have dinner with me sometime. I know a great place downtown. What do you say?"

Harley took a few seconds to respond. was an attractive man, albeit a bit awkward at times, but she didn't feel like she was ready for a relationship. In fact, she'd never actually been in a relationship before. She dated here and there, but no one seemed to hold her interest for too long. She never returned phone calls, never made an effort to see any of them ever again- It seemed like too much work. But when she saw the hopeful look on his face, all she could do was agree.

"I'll go , but please don't expect too much from me." When the words came out, she instantly regretted them.

His face quickly lit up, and Harley felt her blood quickly rush to her face. "Thank you, Harleen. You won't regret it. And please, call me John."

Harley handed him her card. "My address is on here, as well as my phone number. Give me a call after you make the reservations."

At that, she left.

When Harley arrived home, she started a bath for herself. All she wanted to do was relax before bed. While waiting for the tub to fill up, Harley walked into the kitchen and grabbed some cat food from the pantry. Mister Jingles looked up at her from the couch, sleep quickly leaving his eyes once he realized that it was time for dinner. He jumped off the couch and wound himself around her feet.

"Baby is hungry, I know," She murmured, bending down to put the food in his bowl. "Sorry mommy was so late getting off work."

Once Mister Jingles began eating his meal, Harley walked back to the bathroom, stripping off her clothes as she went. She turned off the faucet once the tub was full, and dipped her toe in to test the temperature. Satisfied, Harley slipped into the tub and allowed the water to consume her. She sighed deeply as she felt the water ease the stressed muscles of her back. It had been one crazy night. She wasn't sure how she'd been able to work through it without losing her mind, or at the very least snapping at one of the orderlies. Being head nurse was no easy task, and if anyone thought otherwise, she'd be sure to give them hell.

As Harley felt herself slip into sweet bliss, her phone rang. Her eyes quickly snapped open. She huffed and reached a wet hand in an attempt to grab her purse off the floor. Unable to reach it, she used her foot against the wall of the tub for leeway. After a few curses and dramatic huffs she was able to grab hold of the strap with her fingertips and drag it closer to the tub. She reached into her purse despite her wet hand and grabbed her ringing phone, flipping it open.

"Hello," She barked, unable to identify the number.

There was a short pause on the other end. "H-Harley, this is John. Is th-this a bad time?"

It took a minute for her to regain her composure before speaking. She felt like yelling at him to leave her alone, but the poor thing couldn't even speak he was so nervous. "No, John. You're fine. What can I help you with?"

"Well, I know you told me to call once I had made reservations, but you walked off before I got the chance to tell you that the owner of the restaurant was my brother," He said, able to speak more freely once he could sense that Harley had calmed down a bit. "He called a few minutes ago to let me know that Bruce Wayne has decided to throw a party there tonight, and apparently it's going to be a huge deal. I was wondering if you'd like to join me."

Harley had wanted a quiet night alone, but when she really thought about it she realized that every night was a quiet one for her. She never really did much, and a party thrown by theBruce Wayne was something that most wouldn't want to miss for the world. Eddy was always berating her to get out of the house and "spread her wings", so she figured she had nothing more to lose than an episode of Married With Children and a bottle of Merlot.

"Alright, sure. I'll go." Harley tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible, but she was never really good at masking her emotions. She hoped that most people didn't take it personally; it was just her nature.

She could hear John smile through the phone and his voice instantly lit up."Great! You won't regret it, I promise. I'll pick you up in an hour or so."

Harley couldn't help but blush at his apparent excitement. "Do you need me to give you directions?"

"No, I'll let my GPS do all the work. Oh, and before I forget, the party is going to be somewhat casual so you can go ahead and wear anything you'd like tonight."

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll see you soon." Harley hung up the phone and...smiled? She couldn't place the feeling. She wasn't sure if excited was the right word to use, but the thought of going out and actually doing something for once made her feel a bit giddy. This situation would be one big unknown. Good thing she was feeling slightly adventurous tonight.

Harley slipped out of the tub and pulled the plug to let the water drain. She grabbed her towel and wiped herself down before wrapping it around her body, relishing in the soft, cozy fabric. She looked in the mirror to see how much work she had in store for herself. She never really knew what to do with her hair, so she decided to pin it up in a bun.

Now it was time for some makeup.

Harley grabbed her makeup bag and carefully looked inside as though something would jump out of it and bite her at any given moment. She never really wore the stuff because she didn't know how to use most of it. She knew that tonight she should try to make more of an effort due to the occasion, but she didn't want to wind up looking like a clown either. Her skin was nice enough. She had a youthful glow about her, and foundation and blush weren't really necessary, so she opted to spread a bit of nude shimmer to her eyelids, swiped on a bit of mascara, and applied a soft pink lipstick to her lips. Once she was done, she looked into the mirror and frowned. She didn't look much different than before, but at least she made the effort.

She shrugged to herself thoughtlessly and walked over to her wardrobe to figure out what she'd wear, yet another catch-22 for Harleen Frances Quinzel, tomboy extraordinaire. After a few minutes of rummaging around the contents of her closet, she sighed and fell to the floor dramatically. All she could find were scrubs and plaid flannel shirts. It wasn't that she didn't like dressing like a girl, but she didn't even know where to begin when it came to fashion. Anytime she tried anything even remotely nice on in the fitting room, she felt like a little girl playing dress-up.

She lifted herself off the floor and marched over to her dresser, opening one of the drawers before pulling out a pair of dark skinny jeans. The tags were still on them. She laughed at herself and pulled them on before she had a chance to change her mind. She buttoned them up, which, despite her thin frame, was a challenge considering how tight they were. She hated them. They looked decent enough on her, but Harley was used to wearing scrubs and sweatpants all day. They were comfortable. These were the exact opposite.

After she ripped off the tags from her jeans, she put on a black tank top and a pair of old black heels she'd purchased for her interview at the hospital. They were tall, but Harley knew she could use the extra height.

She quickly glanced at her full-length mirror to see if she looked at all presentable. Something was...missing. She grabbed a pink scarf that was hanging from her lamp and tied it loosely around her neck, looking into the mirror one last time for the final verdict. Perfect, she thought, twirling around in her new ensemble. She didn't look perfect, but for her this was ritzy.

After she applied one last coat of lipstick, her doorbell rang. Harley opened it and found herself speechless. John stood in the doorway with a dozen red roses, an awkward smile covering his face.

"I hope these aren't too much," He said as he handed them to her. "I couldn't resist. I saw them on display on my drive over here, and I had to buy them for you."

Harley buried her face in them, inhaling the scent. "They're beautiful," She exclaimed, her big smile mimicking his own. "Come on in while I put these in a vase."

John walked into her house, looking around in complete awe. "You know, your place looks just like I pictured it. It really suits you." He spotted a stuffed giraffe on her couch and laughed quietly to himself. Yep, just like he imagined.

Harley grabbed a clear vase from a cabinet under the sink, filling it with water before placing the roses in it. She looked up and saw him staring at her giraffe. She blushed profusely. "That's, uh- for my cat," She said meekly, grabbing it before stuffing it under a cushion.

"I see," He said, still chuckling lightly to himself. "Anyway, we'd better leave. Are you ready?"

Harley nodded and grabbed her coat.

When Harley saw his car, she nearly toppled over. A Porsche Carrera, of course, she mused. John opened the door for her, allowing her to get in. Once she was settled he shut the door, walked over to the driver's side, and got in himself.

"I know it was probably a stupid idea to get this car, but I couldn't help myself. After eight years of med school I figured I deserved something nice. I didn't really have much growing up, and-" He stopped mid-sentence, looking over at her apologetically. "I'm talking too much, I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous around you." He laughed, and Harley smiled.

"You're fine," She said as she patted his hand softly, noting that he squirmed slightly under her touch.

The car ride was quiet, but not awkward. Harley couldn't help but stare at him from the corner of her eye. He was gorgeous, in a slightly rugged kind a way. His dark brown hair was gelled back, and it looked like he didn't shave all that much. He was successful, great looking- he was endearing. Harley couldn't figure out what he saw in her. It made her slightly nervous, though not distrustful. She just wanted to keep her guard up.

John broke the silence. "When I say you make me nervous, it's mostly because you're so beautiful, and I don't want you to think that it's because you're intimidating... well, actually, you really are intimidating, but not in a bad way," He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "You're like an open book. You don't try to hide anything you think or feel. You're very real in that way."

Did he just call me beautiful?, she thought, and turned away from him to look out her window, completely embarrassed.

"You're also very unpredictable. You seem sweet most of the time, but you've got a side to you as well." He looked over at her for a second before looking back at the road, hoping that he hadn't offended her. "I'm not s-saying you're a bitch or anythi- well, bitch isn't the best word, but... Shit. I'm talking too much again, aren't I?"

Harley laughed and looked back up at him, regaining her composure once she could see that she still had the upper-hand. "You haven't offended me, if that's what you're thinking. I know who I am and what I'm like, . You don't have to explain yourself."

John sighed and laughed affectionately, rubbing his hand through his hair. He was glad he hadn't annoyed her. "We're here," He said, pulling into the parking lot.

Harley was breathless. The outside of the the building was beautiful, but the inside was spectacular.

The restaurant had that wild and smoky air. Tuxedoed waiters, exotic foods, laughter both soft and loud, hookahs with flavored smoke that laced the air with a sweet smell that made you feel almost euphoric- it was a decadent place in a city so full of decay. Harley felt overwhelmed.

The bar was beautiful, and instantly Harley knew where she'd spend most of the night. Above the bar was the biggest flat-screen TV Harley had ever seen in her life. As she looked back down at the bar to see what kind of people she'd be spending the rest of the night with, she instantly spotted the notorious Bruce Wayne with a glass of whiskey in hand. He surrounded by an entourage of beautiful women who were laughing obnoxiously at his every word. Harley felt herself inwardly scoff at the women, glad hat she would never be that desperate. But as she stared at him longer, she felt herself instantly drawn to him. The air about him was just as wild and foreign as this restaurant.

She felt John grab her hand, pulling her back down to reality. She looked up and him and he smiled at her knowingly. She shut her mouth when she realized that it was hanging open, embarrassed.

"You really can't hide what you feel, can you?" He teased.

Harley was about to make a retort when a loud voice called out to John. They both turned around and saw and man run over toward them, bottles of champagne raised above his head. "John, you've got to try this stuff. I just had it flown in from France. You'll love it!"

"Stephen, I'd like you to meet my associate. This is Harleen Quinzel, the head nurse at Gotham General."

Stephen shoved one of the bottles into John's hands, nearly socking him square in the stomach with it. He grabbed Harley's hand with his free one and brought it up to his lips for a gentle kiss, clearly drunk. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss."

Harley smiled softly as he let her hand drop. "It's very nice to meet you, Stephen. This place is beautiful."

"I'm glad you think so," He chuckled, then looked over at John. "John, I want you to meet someone. He's wanting to invest in this place, and the guy is a family man. You've got to help make me look good. This could be huge for me."

"Sure, I suppose" He said, handing the bottle of champagne to Harley. You go ahead and try this. Ask the bartender to open it up for you, and tell him that it was a gift from Stephen. I shouldn't be gone long."

Harley nodded as he walked away, a bit nervous at the thought of being alone in this place. As Harley made her way over to the bar she spotted Bruce Wayne sitting alone, his glass of whiskey still nestled between his hands. He looked deep in thought. Harley sat a few seats away from him so that she wouldn't bother him, holding her hand up to get the bartender's attention.

He walked over to her. "What can I do for you?"

Harley handed him the bottle. "Could you please open this for me? It's a gift from Stephen."

The bartender opened it and poured some of it into a glass before sliding it back her way. Harley grabbed it and thanked him, taking a big sip. She'd never had real champagne before. It's wasn't anything remarkable, but the bubbles tickled her nose and made her a bit lightheaded. She enjoyed it.

"I'll have what she's having," She heard a voice say, and when she looked over she noticed Bruce Wayne staring directly at her.

"I couldn't help but see you smile every time you took a sip. It must be some good stuff."

Harley felt her face grow hot. "I'm sorry, sometimes I don't even realize when I do certain things," She said apologetically.

"No need to be sorry," He said, flashing her a brilliant smile. "I think it's charming."

The Bartender Handed him a glass, and he downed it quickly. He didn't say anything after that, and Harley wondered if he had liked it or not. He seemed to be stuck in his thoughts again. Harley wanted to say something to break the awkward silence, but she noticed John walking over toward her.

"I'm sorry I took so long," He said, leaning against the bar with a sigh. "That investor sure loves to hear himself talk."

Harley handed him the bottle of champagne. "Looks like you could use this."

"I need to drive you home, remember?" He raised an eyebrow at her, and poked her on the forehead.

She tried to look up at his finger, jokingly, and they both laughed.

Harley hadn't felt such a silly show of affection since she lived with the boys. She felt a heaviness in her chest despite her laughter, yet she couldn't help but feel a small connection with him at that very moment. She was thankful. She hadn't laughed like that in a while.

John smiled and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "You seem comfortable here, so I'm going to go ahead and find a waiter that will serve us here at the bar. You stay put."

John walked off, and Harley kept her eyes glued to his back. What had she felt just then? She couldn't place her emotions-They were twisted like a knot in the pit of her belly.

She turned back around to face the bar and poured herself another drink. She looked over at Bruce Wayne, and noticed that his eyes were staring emotionless at the television. Harley looked at it herself and frowned. The Joker's face filled up the entire screen, and he was looking into the camera, laughing. She remembered seeing this video about a week ago: He tortured a man to death and threatened to continue his killing spree until Batman revealed himself. She looked back over at Bruce. His eyes remained fixated on the picture in front of him, and though she couldn't be sure, she could have sworn he was gripping his glass of whiskey tightly in his hand. His knuckles were white.

Harley looked back at the television and the night continued on as normal, as though no one else could see what they saw on that giant screen. It was just the two of them, and for the rest of the night, neither of them could shake an overwhelming sense of foreboding.