Harley had been listening for hours, and was beginning to lose faith in Wayne Enterprises' Sonar device. Nothing had come up, just random ramblings of phone conversations to families, panicking civilians, and the usual gotham gunshots. She thought at one point she had heard D.A. Harvey Dent, but he wasn't any of her concern. All she wanted was the Joker. Every now and then his name came up in conversation, but it was usually someone telling a family member outside of Gotham the latest news. Then she heard his announcement over the ferries' intercoms. " Tonight you're all going to be a part of a social experiment. Through the magic of diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate, I'm ready right now to blow you all sky high." - Liberty, Come in, Over. - "It's dead." " If anyone attempts to get off their boat, you all die. Each of you has a remote to blow up the other boat." There was a cell phone interruption. "I have the Joker's Location," the low, gravelly voice of Batman growled at Commissioner Gordon. Harley quickly turned up her computer's volume. "Prewitt Building. Assemble on the building opposite." The Joker's transmittion continued. "At midnight, I blow you all up. If, however, one of you presses the button, I'll let that boat live. So, who's it going to be? Harvey Dent's most-wanted scumbag collection, or the sweet and innocent civilians? You Choose. Oh, and you might wanna decide quickly because the people on the other boat may not be quite so noble." It ended as abruptly as it began, with the faint sound of arguement ensuing in it's place. Harley knew then that this was her best chance to find him; she already knew where he was, she just needed to get there in time, and how ironic it would be if she got things amended and the way they should be between her and Jack- No, not Jack anymore, Joker- before midnight. She hurried out the door, stopping only to lock it, and into the alley to her hidden motorcycle. Speeding dangerously, she peeled out onto the street in the direction of the Prewitt Building. Everything seemed to be working against her, however, as she had to slow down to manuver through the thick traffic, getting stopped at almost every red light between her and her destination. It took her nearly fifteen minutes to get to the building, and as she looked up, she thought she could just discern the signs of a struggle on the top floor. There was the indistinct sound of an argument, then suddenly, horrifyingly, someone went flying off the building and started falling; someone in a purple suit, laughing maniacally. As horrified as she was, his laughter was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. Watching him fall, feeling a mix of pure terror for him and joy at finally knowing exactly where he was, he suddenly seemed to stop in mid-air and rise back up. Finally getting fed up with guessing, she pulled a pair of binoculars out of the saddlebag and focused them on him. Batman had the Joker dangling from the scaffolding by the ankle, then the SWATs moved in to apprehend him. Would she ever find him now? Yes, she would, because she knew where they were gonna lock him up: Arkham Asylum. She had interned there years ago when she was in college for psychology. Security may be a bit tighter, but surely the layout was the same... but how to be sure? Could she find someone who had recently been incarcerated, or employed, there? She thought for a moment; Doctor Jonathan Crane! Why, without the funding of the Asylum when he was still a doctor, he couldn't have developed his fear hallucinagens. She revved her bike and moved as fast as she could to his "office." When she got there, she knocked eagerly on the door and waited... and waited. Finally, a short, balding man in an expensive suit opened the door, leaving the chain-lock attached. "Who is it? What do you want?" he asked warily. "I'm looking for Dr. Crane. Is he in the office?" Harley asked politely. "No, he's not in the office and-" Harley interrupted him. "How can I get in contact with him? It's important." The man laughed. "I suppose you'd have to go to Arkham to talk to him about... uh, whatever it is." "Arkham?" He chuckled again. "Yeah, Arkham, are you deaf? He got caught, oh, i don't know when, by The Batman, sellin his drugs to the Greek." "The Greek? Where is He?" Harley asked impatiently. The man's laughing stopped. "He's dead... and so is that Lao guy; serves him right, the lyin' thief. Joker whacked 'em earlier today. Half the mob's gone! Maroni's car was found flipped and flaming on the side of the road. the driver was shot, and a couple of Maroni's men in the GCPD got offed earlier too. I'm leavin town of my own accord, before I get sent out in a pine box!" with that, he slammed the door in her face. She considered breaking it down, then decided he wasn't worth HER effort. As for getting into Arkham, she was now on her own. No one in this town would help her, except Crane, probably, and he was no good to her already in. She'd just have to wing it; there was no way to plan for this. She got back on the motorcycle and went back to her townhouse, deciding to try the asylum's "visiting hours" first thing the next morning. When she arrived at her room, she started pulling boxes out of the closet and from under the bed. All of her newspapers, notes, and photos went into one shoebox, while all of her street clothes, except a pair of jeans, a sweater, and her scarf, went into a rollalong suitcase. She also boxed up all the videotapes into shoeboxes and piled them on top of her suitcase, securing them with long strips of scrap cloth. She dumped all the knives, sewing needles, and Joker cards into a small black bag, but left out all the makeup supplies, neatly separating the normal from her new "performance makeup." She also picked up the remaining scraps of cloth and threw them away. Last, but not least, she picked up her little sewing project, a black and red harlequin style shirt, with a matching jester hat, and the ripped up and patched matching jeans, and folded them neatly on a chair. Turning off the main light, she switched on a bedside lamp and opened the old photo album to her favorite picture again. She fell asleep gazing at the last evidence of their young love.