Everyday White showed up hoping the clown girl wouldn't be there. (Whether due to an untimely death or just because she came to her senses mattered very little to him.) But each day he was disappointed to find her still waiting on the Joker hand and foot.
He had managed to gather that her name was Harley only because the Joker bellowed for her a lot. What puzzled him the most was why the boss kept her around at all. The broad had only been there about two weeks and it was pretty clear to White that she drove him nuts. That's all I need, he thought, the boss to be crazier than he already is.
What's more, this girl snatched the spotlight away from the Joker in more ways than one. Sure she had a nice figure, but beyond that Harley thoroughly enjoyed being the center of attention whenever she could get it. Sometimes she'd distract everyone by doing fancy flips and jumps about the room. She'd shout things like "Kawasaki" or "Suzuki" as she kicked the air at her invisible enemies. There were even times when Harley would speak out of turn, and some sort of physical punishment by the Joker always followed this, but she was still breathing.
If White didn't know better, he'd say that his boss was going easier on her because she was a skirt. Now, while White would always do what was necessary to complete an assigned mission, he tried to avoid putting women in harms way, especially if they happened to cut a nice dress. It wasn't always avoidable, but he did what he could. The Joker had no such convictions…or convictions of any kind for that matter. The more victims, the more he pissed off the Bat. The more he pissed off the Bat, the happier he was.
So what made this girl so special?
It soon became clear that they were going to be facing another Bat-battle pretty soon. White was expected to show up more often than when preparing for a regular heist. He probably just wants to show off his new play thing, White complained silently.
The planning was pretty in-depth, to the point where the Joker handed out scripts as though they were about to embark onto some sort of stage production. White really didn't see the point, as the vast majority of the lines belonged to the Joker himself, but he had long ago stopped trying to make sense of his boss. Instead, he enjoyed the befuddled expressions of the newbies as they were handed their copies. The new guys were always a riot.
White could tell the boss was really excited about this one. He was very animated during his performance as he read his lines to the group. Harley encouraged everyone to cheer and clap at certain places as she gazed at him adoringly, and when he was finished they all gave him a standing ovation. Harley jumped up and down shouting, "Encore! Encore!" as the Joker soaked it all in.
After the Joker carefully explained that this had to go off without a hitch, and threatened anyone he thought might jeopardize it, one of the new guys naively raised his hand. Here we go, thought White as he shuffled further toward the back of the group.
The Joker turned sharply toward the poor chump. "Do we have a question?"
The henchman had already realized his mistake by this point, and was obviously trying to think of a way out of the situation, but nothing came to mind. He looked to his buddies for help, but they didn't seem terribly interested in running to his aid.
"Well question-guy, we're all waiting!" the Joker stated impatiently, acting as though everyone in the room must be as irritated as he was.
"W-well boss, sir, it's just th-that there are lines here f-for Batman too," the thug eventually stammered out.
"I assume you have a point or do you just enjoy stating the obvious?" the Joker asked dryly, clearly annoyed.
Oh look, White thought dully. My shoes are untied.
"I-I guess I was just wondering, h-how do you know the Bat is g-gonna say his lines?" They were the last words he'd ever speak.
Harley gasped. "I didn't think of that Puddin'!"
The Joker immediately tensed and angrily snatched hold of one of the ears to Harley's headpiece. He turned back to the henchman with Harley in hand. "Ever hear of improv?" the Joker questioned the dead man. "Allow me to demonstrate." He lunged at the hired help as everyone around him scattered and, with his free hand, the Joker plunged a megawatt joy buzzer into his eye socket. "Improv. See? It's not that difficult," he instructed the smoking flesh coldly.
He then screamed for everyone to get out and White made a quick exit with the others. As he left, he caught his boss dragging Harley along by her headpiece out of the corner of his eye. The Joker turned a corner too sharply and Harley's face met with the wall.
"Of course Ratman has lines! How am I supposed to perform if my straight man just stands there? What kind of moron doesn't get that!" he ranted to himself, Harley in tow. He suddenly stopped, remembering she was there, and lifted her to eye level. "And was I mistaken, or did you not AGREE with him!"
"Oh Puddin', I'm just not the genius you are," Harley rambled quickly, desperate to try and explain away her indiscretion. "But I'm tryin' really hard. Improv, I get it now."
She was learning quickly. Flattery was one of the best means of settling him down. Unfortunately, she'd had the gall to question him in public and no amount of flattery was going to save her tonight.