2
"So, what did Strange tell you anyway?" Harley asked almost as soon as he enter the common area a few days later.
He grimaced, "He said he wanted to make me sane. He thinks I'm crazy like the rest of these idiots."
Harley laid a gentle hand on his arm, "Crazy is a label, not a diagnosis. I told you not to trust Strange. He'll tell you that he wants what's best for you but really he only has his own interests at heart."
Oswald nodded, a frown in place as he thought about his current situation, "So why aren't you like the rest of them?"
"I told you," her voice lowered slightly, "I've been to the basement. That means I'm of use to Strange in a different way."
"What makes you so important?" He asked, genuinely curious.
She shrugged, "I'm not really sure myself. I can't remember much before I was sent here. I have a few memories but not enough to really piece much together. I guess I was someone interesting before."
Oswald was suddenly struck by a strange thought. When the Valeska kid had been on his rampage with his little band of crazies, there had been a girl who was often seen at his side. Her name was something vaguely clown-like… "Harlequin?"
Harley raised an eyebrow, "It's Harley Quinn. That's a really old joke by the way."
Oswald shook his head, "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something and didn't intend to offend you."
"It's fine," Harley grinned, "What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing," Oswald shook his head, choosing not to share his thoughts with her.
She pointed for a second before grinning again, "So what are things like outside?"
"Well…"
"You really shouldn't get attached to the other inmates," Was the first thing Strange said to her when she entered the basement.
Harley scowled, "I just want someone to talk to."
He gave her his attempt at a fatherly smile. It came across more menacing than she felt it should be, "You know I only say this because I care about you. I think of like my own daughter, you know. I just don't want to see you get hurt."
She forced a grateful smile, "I know, Strange."
He gave her a look.
"... Father."
He gave her a nod and another menacing smile before walking away. She watched his retreating back and found herself wishing for something sharp to stab him with. The man treated her like she was a child. She had always hated when people did that. At least, she was pretty sure she did.
Strange spun in her direction when he was halfway down the hallway, "You have therapy this afternoon. No skipping this time."
She scowled.
The next time Harley and Oswald saw each other, both were a little worse for wear.
Oswald looked nervous and couldn't stop the shaking of his hands. Harley just looked exhausted.
"So Ozzie," she began with a weak grin, "How'd your first therapy session go?"
Oswald looked at her with haunted eyes, "I thought you were exaggerating."
Her grin became tight at the corners and her eyes darkened, "This isn't really a place for joking."
"That's certainly true," He gave a humorless laugh before glancing at his clenched hands, "I was the king of Gotham, you know."
Harley's brow quirked, "That's what you said your first day."
"I got rid of everyone who was in my way until I was at the very top," His eyes were slightly crazed. It was good to see that he wasn't broken yet.
She leaned forward, resting her head in her hands, "Tell me about it."
Oswald's face lit up.
Harleen Quinzel strode through the Halls of Arkham with much more confidence than a seventeen year old intern should have. She smiled and waved at the patients as she walked by, stopping every so often to ask how a patient was doing. She stopped by one particular patient, a large man known as Aaron Helzinger, "So, Aaron, have you made any new friends lately?"Aaron smiled at her, looking very proud of himself, "Yes, a new lady, very pretty. You'd like her.""I'm sure I would. Maybe you can introduce me one day," She gave him a large smile that told him just how proud she was of as Helzinger was about to reply, she noticed that another patient had made his way over to where they were talking and she found her smile becoming a grimace."Well hello there, Dollface," the ginger grinned at took a step back, ensuring that she was out of his range (she'd made the mistake of standing too close before and she wasn't keen on a repeat), and rolled her eyes, "What do you want Valeska."His grin only widened, "I think you already know the answer to that Harlequin."
I just want to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. I'm glad that I'm not the only who thinks that Harley and Penguin have the potential to have a very interesting fact, I was inspired to make this fic because of the fact that both Harley and Penguin (at least the Gotham version) have the tendency to be very extreme in their attchments. It seemed like a dynamic that has a lot of potential.