White had just returned to the hideout following a minor heist. Others were dividing loot around him, but he headed straight for the TV and turned on the news. He was always wary of anything that could incriminate him personally and would look to see if he'd been identified in any way after committing a crime.

There was a small piece about the heist but it was still too early to tell anything from it. In fact, they didn't seem to realize there was any connection to the infamous Joker much less himself. Ironically, the following story informed the public of a former doctor from Arkham Asylum who should be considered armed and dangerous. A picture of Harleen Quinzel was seen in the top left hand corner of the screen.

Harley, up until now, had yet to get any media publicity. White figured that the asylum and cops were trying to keep it under wraps and find her before too much damage was done. This would, of course, hopefully help lead to the doctor's recovery and keep the citizens of Gotham from panicking. Though White thought that Gotham was pretty used to this stuff by now and it wouldn't really bother anyone. It did however make for a good story. Apparently Henshaw agreed.

"Bet the press is eatin' that up," he said while finding a crate to sit on. "Joker's secret lover, news at eleven! The ratings will be huge."

"Will you keep it down!" White hissed, as though they were being eavesdropped upon.

"You're always so jumpy. Calm down. The boss'd probably like it anyway." At that moment, Harley was merrily skipping toward the door apparently heading for some errand.

"Where're you goin'?" White asked with concern in his voice before catching himself. Harley turned and looked at him inquisitively. In fact, it seemed to White everyone was looking at him that way.

"Why do you care, man?" Henshaw whispered to him as though he was warning him to go no farther.

Harley eventually answered, "Ummm…I'm going to get some take-out. Why? You want sumthin'?"

"Ooh! Can we do that?" Henshaw asked her excitedly.

Harley shrugged. "I guess so. I don't mind." It turned out not to be such a good idea though, as everyone started shouting orders at her and she found herself having to write a list. The noise aroused Joker's curiosity who decided to see what was going on, only to find that Harley had not yet left on her assigned errand. Everyone quickly clammed up as he emerged in the room.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" he yelled at Harley. "Did I not make it clear that I was hungry?"

"Yessir, Mistah J. It's just the boys were hungry too. I was making a list," she explained as Joker snatched the paper from her and looked it over.

"No, no, no, no. It doesn't take a genius to see how much time this order will take, which means what?" he asked her carefully.

"…You'll have to wait longer?" she answered timidly.

"And do I like waiting?" He spoke to her as if she were a child that needed a line drawn to the proper conclusion.

"No sir," she said as her head sank to her chest.

"Who's idea was this?" he demanded of everyone and the entire room instantly pointed at White. Henshaw tried to put some extra distance between the two of them in an attempt to make it clear that he wasn't associated with him.

Joker made his way toward White, feeding off the fear he knew the man felt. White's gaze instantly fell toward the ground and only realized his boss reached him when his feet came into view. "Feeling peckish, are we?" the Joker asked dangerously.

"I-I wasn't askin' for food, boss. I was askin' where she was goin'. She was on the news just a minute ago." Without looking up he pointed at the television. Joker craned his head around as though he'd catch a glimpse of Harley on the screen, despite the fact it had been turned off. Henshaw nodded in conformation of the report. White continued to explain, "Everyone's gonna be lookin' for her and I didn't want her caught and traced back here is all."

Joker grunted in a fashion that White took to mean some kind of approval. "You!" he pointed to a random henchman. "Bring me food." His mood suddenly changed and he seemed rather chipper. "Well Harley, it looks like you just might make a name for yourself after all. But then, you're associated with me so I don't see how you couldn't."

Truthfully, Harley did look rather excited by the idea and as the Joker disappeared into the back once again, she dashed to White for details. She leaned far over the back of the ratty couch so that her feet were dangling in the air.

"What'd it say?" She could barely contain herself.

"…I don't know…stuff," White replied, confused at her euphoria.

"That's all I get? Stuff?"

"It definitely had stuff," Henshaw teased.

"Look, you need to take this seriously," White explained. "You can't just waltz around town no more. People will recognize you. You need to be careful."

"Awww, you worried about me?" she giggled.

"Maybe I just don't wanna go down with you," White corrected her.

Harley realized she wasn't going to get anymore out of him and gave a little clap while lightly kicking her feet in the air before sliding off the couch to follow Joker. She was much too enthralled to take White's warning seriously. Her appearance in the media meant only one thing to her: That she counted. That she mattered. And if the rest of the world thought that, maybe Mistah J would too.

After Harley left White's side, clearly untroubled by her new predicament, Henshaw astutely commented, "That broad ain't nothin' but trouble."

"Yeah," White agreed. "Someone should do something about that."