It was time to break out Mistah J. Her plan was simple—what it lacked in imagination, it made up for in straightforward effectiveness. She had a unique advantage over her villainous compatriots, having worked inside Arkham. She knew its halls and its secrets, but most importantly, she knew its weaknesses. Among them, that Karen never locked the back office door when she returned from her cigarette breaks and that Jeffrey left a brick in the rooftop doorway so he could sneak up there and smoke a joint with his lunch. And that the linens were too much for the staff to do in-house, so were switched out every Tuesday by truck.
Harley shoved her costume into an attaché, just in case, before stopping in the bathroom to check her disguise. There was a patch of white skin still visible on her neck which she hurried to cover. "Weird puttin' on makeup to look normal." She straightened the brunette wig and squared the collar of her lab coat. It was convincing enough. Maybe she wouldn't be able to walk through the front door, but no one would question her once she was inside.
Marco and Vinnie were in the main room, gathering up the last of the supplies. They had only required the hiring of a truck and driver, plus acquiring some props and accoutrements. So the two men found busy work to keep the nerves down while they waited on their driver. It wasn't long before the deep rumble of a box delivery truck shook the cracked windows of the fun house.
"Let's go, boys. Truck's here." Harley ran out the door ahead of the two men.
A large black man climbed down from the cab and was immediately enveloped in a hug. "Oof."
"Lewie! I'm glad you're here."
He turned to face Harley. "You know you're the only one who's allowed to call me that? Well, you and my mama."
Harley beamed up at him. "I know."
He smiled down at the small girl. "Alrght, Harley, gimme the details of what I'm doing on this job."
"Oh, you got the easy part. All you gotta do is drive the truck."
"Just drive the truck?" He looked skeptical.
"Well, drive the truck past the security check and keep people from nosing around long enough for us to get in and get Mistah J out."
He nodded. "I can do that." He'd been a wheelman many times.
"Sorry it's not more interesting." Harley shrugged.
"Honey, that's nothing to be sorry about. I'll take a simple job for you any day."
Harley grinned. "You're my favorite." She hugged him again. "You ready to go?"
"Whenever you say the word."
"Load 'er up, boys. Mistah J's comin' home!"
"So, if we're taking the place of the linens truck. Where is the real truck gonna be?" Lewie asked as they crossed the bridge to Arkham.
"Nowhere. I cancelled their contract. It's gonna be a bitch of time next week." Harley laughed.
Lewie stopped at the front gate of Arkham Asylum. The tired guard stepped out of his shack and walked up to the door of the truck. "Can I help you?"
"Just bringing in fresh sheets," Lewie replied.
The guard tilted his head, looking over the side of the vehicle. "Ain't the usual truck."
"No, sir. Had some engine trouble or something, I don't know what goes on under the hood, I just drive the things. Mechanic traded it out for a temp."
The guard nodded. "ID?"
"Sure thing." Lewie reached for the badge made up for this job. "Here you go." He waited patiently as the guard called in to the security office. Bureaucracy was never-ending, and it still didn't do them any good. Lewie saw the guard take down some information off his fake badge before returning it to him.
"Head on around back to the loading bay and they'll meet you."
The black ironwork of the gate barely cleared the top of the truck as they passed through the first security check. He knocked on the door in the back of the cab, signaling Harley.
She opened the door and surveyed the grounds. "That was easy. Now comes the tricky part. You just sit tight until we get back." Harley closed the door as she returned to the back of the truck. "Alright, guys, we're in. Lewie's gonna park in the bay in the back. When we stop an orderly is gonna open that door. He should be by himself, but there might be one or two other people in eye line. Pull 'em in, knock 'em out, and tie 'em up. Then you guys head in. I'll come through the offices so I can verify Mistah J's cell. I'll radio his location to you and then meet you there."
"And then we just walk right out with him in the laundry bin." Marco confirmed the last step of the plan.
"Yep. Right under their stuck up little noses."
The truck lurched to a stop. They heard voices outside and then the latch on the rear roll up door popped open. A short dusky-haired man reached in without looking. He gasped in surprise when Marco grabbed his arm. Vinnie took him under the shoulder and clamped a hand over his mouth. The two yanked him up into the truck and Harley smacked him hard over the head. He collapsed with a sigh. Marco tied up his wrists while Vinnie secured his ankles.
Lewie cracked the cab door. "Don't forget to gag him too. Last thing I want is for him to wake up before you get back and start screaming."
"I got him." Marco snapped a gag around his head.
Lewie looked suspicious. "Is that a ball gag?"
Marco smiled up at him. "Clown nose." He squeezed the red ball in the man's mouth and it squeaked.
Lewie shook his head. "You see the strangest shit in Gotham."
"Like Bludhaven is any better?" Vinnie added. Lewie shrugged.
"How we comin', boys?" Harley redirected their attention.
Lewie made a face like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and closed the cab door. Vinnie looked over at Harley. "We're good."
"All right, let's go."
Pamela lay stretched out along the sofa, clicking through channels for something worth filling time. Her phone rang and for a moment, it threw her. Who even had her number? "Hello?"
"Hey, Ivy, you want to go out for drinks tonight?"
Selina. "Why would you think I would want to do that?"
"Because Harley is breaking Joker out of Arkham today."
"Oh? Is she? She hadn't told me. I didn't even know he'd been captured."
That was weird; it was unlike Harley to not talk with Ivy about her heists. Especially one she was pulling off on her own. "Well, she's busting him out today. You want to go for drinks? We can have a girls' night."
"Why on Earth do you think I would want to go to a bar? And what does Harley busting Joker have to do with that?"
Selina stopped. She doesn't even know. Sighing, she pressed forward, "Nothing, apparently. I still think it would be nice to go out and get drunk."
"Well, I don't want to go out. I have…" Ivy glanced around the empty house. "Lots of work to do."
"Suit yourself, then. Have fun with your work." Selina hung up, exasperated. "Does anyone in this damn city know how to be in love?"
Ivy looked around her living room. A commercial touting its miracle product with exuberance prattling on from the television was the only sound, the only source of vibrant life. There was just her and her plants. She missed Harley's laughter, her bright energy and enthusiasm. What the hell?
Selina's phone buzzed. She read the screen with a smirk. Which bar?
Selina sat at the bar, her small black dress practically painted on. Cleavage spilled out the tastefully scandalous neckline as she leaned in, enrapturing the bartender, a handsome young man with a slicked back fade and an athlete's body. He was but a toy to her, a mouse to bat between her paws. And perhaps something to catch between her teeth. She smiled wildly at the man, baiting him with her seductive grin. He swallowed the hook; leaning forward, he flexed his biceps. Selina sat back in her stool, eyeing him over the rim of her martini glass as she took a sip. He was no Bat, but he'd be fun for sure.
Pamela stalked across the tile floor to take the stool next to her. "Well, Selina, I'm here."
Selina looked her up and down. Her red hair was swept up in rolls along the hairline; she wore a sedate, but form-fitting rich green dress with gold pinstripes. Her lips were stained deep red and her green eyes were bright, shadowed with a subtle golden bronze. "And you look damn good, too. Like a proper pinup girl. You're bound to drive all the boys mad."
Ivy did a quick study of Selina and her bountiful assets. "Some of us prefer a more…traditional, subtle sexy."
Selina grinned, her eyes flashing brightly. "Let's ask Peter." She turned to the bartender. "Which do you find sexier? The old school style of Ivy here, or myself—a more up front girl?"
He wagged his finger, shaking his head. "Oh, no no. I'm not playing that game. You're both beautiful." He smiled. "The only preference I have is for blondes. I am a gentleman, after all."
Selina laughed. "Well, then I win!"
"Charming." Pamela added snidely.
Selina ignored her. "Now, darling Peter, as lovely as your company has been, this is a ladies' night. So will be spending the evening with my dear friend, Ivy, getting as drunk as we possibly can. Another sidecar for me and…" She gestured to Pam for her drink order.
"Tanqueray wet martini, straight up, with a twist."
Peter nodded and set about making their drinks. Selina side-eyed Pam. "Ivy, what made you decide to join me?"
Pamela shrugged. "I just thought having some company would be nice."
The bartender handed them their drinks. Selina finished the last of her original drink and moved on to the fresh one. "You just wanted some company? Alright, we'll go with that." She looked around the bar, surveying the men in the room. "How about you, Ivy, do you have any preferences?" Selina pointed out the handsomest men in the room as she spoke. "Dusky brown, raven-haired, maybe ginger like yourself?" She smirked. "Or maybe you also prefer blondes?"
"Selina, I am not interested in the company of a man in the manner in which you are implying."
"Okay, not interested in men." Selina scanned the room again and settled on a striking blonde woman surrounded by several men. "What about her, then?"
Pamela gave her a tired look. "I am not interested in the company of women."
"Well, you're interested in the company of one woman." Selina flashed that grin, the one that let you know there was so much more behind her words than she'd tell. Ivy was about to protest, when Selina spoke. "Me, of course." She laughed heartily.
Pamela sipped her martini. "Alright, Selina, out with it. Why did you drag me out tonight?"
"Oh ma'am, I did not drag you anywhere. But that's not the point. The point is that Harley is most likely on her way home from Arkham as we speak with her," Selina sneered. "Precious 'Mistah J.' And that is deserving of a drink."
"Because Harley managed to convince herself that it was worth crawling back to that abusive bastard is why we're having a victory drink?" Ivy tried to hold back her ire.
Selina shook her head. "This isn't a victory drink, it's a commiseration drink. The rest is correct."
"So we're drinking to drown the sorrows of our ill-guided comrade-in-arms who insists on returning to the 'love' that destroys her?" Ivy asked flatly. Selina nodded. "Well, bottoms up then." She finished off her martini and called for another. "You're done with your second?"
"Almost." Selina replied.
"I've got some catching up to do."
Marco left the truck first, taking the laundry bin with him. He tucked a radio into his shirt pocket and headed inside. Once he was clear, Vinnie rolled what looked like a janitor's cart out of the truck and clipped a radio to his shoulder. Last was Harley. She turned on the radio in her briefcase and nodded to Vinnie before following the old brick wall around the corner and down to the offices.
Harley found the office door and tested it. It was still unlocked. She slipped inside, calmly heading toward the records room. It was the least used office and if she couldn't get into the computer, there was likely to be a paper file with Joker's assigned cell. What the staff called super criminals were housed together in a single wing of the asylum. While it would have been easy enough to get there and just find Joker's cell from there, she wanted to be sure there were no surprises.
An old coworker passed Harley in the hall. She smiled politely and greeted him with a quiet, "Good morning, Dr. Howard." He had to look down at her badge to know her name.
"Morning, Dr. Mabley."
He passed without even a glance over his shoulder. She knew for sure her disguise would hold up now. She continued to the records room, closing the door behind her. A wall of filing cabinets extended to her left, but she was focused on the small desk with a computer on it. Taking a seat, she slid the keyboard tray out. Underneath the keyboard was a sticky note with a username and password on it. "Never could remember your logins, Matt." Harley signed in and waited. The machine seemed slower than she remembered, but it eventually logged in. A few clicks and she had what she needed. "Marco, Vinnie, he's being held in cell 0801, just like I expected."
Marco's voice crackled back first. "On my way, boss."
"Ten-four." Vinnie replied. "Be there in a few minutes."
Harley stretched back in the chair. "Halfway there," she said to herself proudly. Logging out, she steadied herself and marched down the office hallway on her way to the secured wing.
Vinnie reached the secured wing first. There was a guard standing at the door. Vinnie pushed his cart down the corridor until he reached the locked door. "Cleaning."
"Swipe your badge." The guard didn't even bother to look at him; he just pointed at the card reader.
"I don't have one, I'm new."
"They should have given you a badge when they hired you."
"They did." Vinnie explained. "But it's just a temporary one. See?" He held out his badge.
The guard finally looked over, examining the badge. After a moment, he sighed. "Sign here and I'll swipe you in." He handed Vinnie a clipboard with a pen chained to it.
He headed down the hall to Joker's cell. It was good that he was first, he had the most to set up. Vinnie rolled the cart down to cell 0801.
"What are you doing here?" A voice demanded from behind the glass.
Marco whistled softly as he pushed the laundry bin down the halls. It was a nonsense tune, just whistling to make noise. The guard checked his visitor's badge. "Sign here." He held out the clipboard and then swiped him in. As the door slid shut behind him, the guard yelled after Marco. "If you're going to whistle, at least pick a damn song."
Marco smiled to himself and began the first bar of pop goes the weasel.
Harley made her way to the secured wing. She weighed her options on getting past the guard. Obviously, try to talk her way in first. Maybe coerce him a bit, but that was less likely to work. Of course, if all else failed, knock him out and use his card. The downside of that being that he could be seen by anyone and would probably kill her escape plan.
As she approached, the guard ignored her. Harley swiped her badge. The card reader flashed red. She swiped it again. The light went red again. The guard eyed her sideways. "It doesn't seem to be working. Is the reader broken?"
"No ma'am. Nothing wrong with the reader. Perhaps you aren't supposed to be here."
Harley slumped her shoulders. "Dr. Phillips is going to kill me. Please, can you let me in?"
"No ma'am. I can't just—"
"I just transferred from Ravenscar three weeks ago and Dr. Phillips wanted me to talk with Mr. Cobblepot. She asked me to give him this questionnaire she wrote up a week ago and I have to give it to her tomorrow for review. I just need to get in there and ask him a few questions, then I'm right back out. I've been having trouble with my badge since I got here. They keep changing my security access and they probably already took my clearance for this ward because I was supposed to have already been done with this. Can you please just let me in?" She flashed her saddest baby blues at the man.
The guard stared at her for a second and then relented. "Sign here."
Harley beamed at him. "Thanks, mister. I won't forget you."
He swiped his badge. "Ten minutes, Doctor."
"Oh, I won't need that long. I'll be in and out like a flash."
The door closed behind her and she hurried down the hall to meet up with her companions. "Alright, we don't have too much time. Vinnie, you ready?"
"Yep." He affirmed.
"What the devil are you all doing out there?" Joker asked.
Harley looked up and grinned. "Bustin' you out, Puddin'. Stay back from the glass for a minute."
"Why's that?" He inquired.
"Cuz Vinnie's gonna spray it with acid to make a hole for you to climb through."
"And then you're going to waltz me out the front door?" The tone of his voice signaled annoyance.
"No, out the back." Harley replied.
"'Scuse me, boss. You should back up a bit, I don't want to spray you by accident."
Joker stepped back and watched the three of them put Harley's plan into action. Vinnie sprayed acid on the plexiglass cell wall. It bubbled and sizzled as it ate through the material. It took several minutes to work all the way through the wall, but once it was through, the hole broadened quickly. Within five minutes it was large enough for Joker to slip his wiry frame through. "Now what?" He asked once he was through the hole.
"In the laundry bin." Harley answered, proud of herself.
Joker sneered, but climbed in. "These better be clean sheets."
"Oh, they are boss." Marco assured as he pulled sheets to hide Joker's body. "I promise."
"Marco, you should head out first. Then Vinnie, and I'll be out a few minutes behind you."
Marco left. A few minutes later, Vinnie followed. Harley walked up to Penguin's cell. "Hey Cobblepot."
"What do you want, doc?"
"You think you could do your pal Harley a favor and start yelling for me?"
Oswald leaned closer. "I'll be damned, it is you." He straightened up and started hollering.
Harley blew him a kiss, then skittered down the hall to the exit. She knocked on the door to be let out. The guard swiped for the door, Penguin's voice bellowed out into the hall. "Didn't cooperate, did he?"
Harley shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do about my report now."
The guard shrugged. "He's a stubborn one, more so than the rest. Your boss probably didn't expect you to get much out of him. I bet it was one of those Silence of the Lambs kind of tests."
"Oh." Harley feigned disappointment. "Thanks for your help."
"No problem, ma'am."
Harley walked the labyrinthine halls of Arkham, back through the offices, and out to the truck. She hopped into the passenger seat. "Everybody here?"
Lewie gestured toward the open rear cab door. "Yep. The guys are in the back, we're good to go. Just got to deal with this guy." He grabbed the still unconscious orderly by the collar.
"We'll wait til he wakes up and then dump him out the back door in the middle of Gotham. Let's get the hell out of here." Lewie backed the truck up and pulled around to the front gate. He honked and waved to the guard as they left. Harley leaned back and put her feet up on the dash. "Not bad, boys. They don't even know he's gone. Let's get him home."
Selina and Pam had moved from the bar to a table in the front corner. They were both very buzzed. Selina had been on a rant about men, in general, but mostly Batman. "Always so distant. Like he's got to put up so many god damn walls. Bats, baby, I'm a cat burglar, I scale walls for a living!" Selina frowned, wrinkling up her forehead, mocking Batman's stoic visage. "No, he has to be so serious all the time." She dropped the guise. "Except when he's being a smart ass. That's the part nobody really sees, he's such a damn smart ass. Thinks he's so damn clever."
"Well, Selina, how many times has he caught all of us? Maybe he is that clever. Shit, I'm a genius, Harley's a genius. Joker's an idiot, but Harley's a genius. Nigma…pfft, he's just an asshole." Pamela waved her hand, dismissing him from discussion altogether.
Selina laughed. "Eddie is just such an arrogant dick."
Peter made his was over to the table to clear off their empty glasses. Selina's focus turned immediately. "Would you ladies like another round?" He smiled, dark hair falling around his cheekbones as he leaned down.
"Oh, keep 'em coming, sweetheart." Selina purred.
"I think I'd like lighten the palate; make mine an aviation." Ivy requested.
"Am I to assume the lady would like it the traditional way?"
"Without the crème de violette, it's just fancy gin." She smiled at the boy. Selina saw in her eyes a slow-burning fire.
Ivy possessed that calm, domineering manner that so many of the young men desired these days. A powerful woman who was comfortable and strong in a quiet, careful sort of fashion. And she was gorgeous to boot. Harley really did have to be blinded by…well, not love, but something. "When was the last time you had sex?"
"Selina!" Pamela's cheeks reddened. "Why would you ask me that?"
"That long, huh?" Selina made a disappointed face.
Ivy sighed. "I honestly don't remember. But just because I don't go chasing after every well-packaged young man who crosses my path doesn't mean anything."
Selina shrugged. "No, but it does mean you need to get laid." A flicker in the sky caught her eye and she looked out the window. The bat-signal flew across the clouds. "We both do." Selina pointed at the sky. "Guess it's just past evening bed checks."
Ivy's body sank a little. 'I guess she got him out."
"Or Batman's about to get them both." Their drinks arrived. Selina took hers and lifted it to toast. "To the me—people we love, may they not ruin us in the end."
Ivy clinked her glass against Selina's and drank half of it down. Her thoughts were of Harley; hoping she was safe, hoping she wasn't about to be locked away alone, wishing she'd left that damned deranged clown in his cell and had come to stay with her. Hoping that he wouldn't ruin Harley before the end.
Joker was quiet the whole ride back to the fun house. Except for when he exuberantly kicked the orderly, still tied up and gagged, out of the back of the moving truck. His glee from that hilarious joke soon died and he became reticent again. Harley worried that they'd done something to him. Had they shocked him once too many? Had the doctors at Arkham finally managed to break her poor Puddin'?
Lewie pulled the truck up to the fun house. Harley kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Lewie. See you around."
"You too, Harley. Take care of yourself."
Harley jumped down out of the cab. And ran around to the back of the truck. The doors flung open and almost knocked her off her feet. "At least we're home. Time to see how much damage you did to the place without me."
Joker leapt from the truck and stormed up the fun house steps as Marco and Vinnie carefully unloaded the tank of acid. Harley found Joker inside. The truck engine roared and then faded out as Lewie drove off back to Bludhaven.
"Welcome home, Puddin'!"
A slap across the face spun her sideways.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Joker yelled at her.
Harley cradled her cheek, confused. "Wha…what do you mean, Puddin'?"
"What do I mean?" He scoffed. "What the hell were you thinking with that stupid plan?"
Harley furrowed her brow. "But, Puddin', it worked. And we didn't get caught or nothing."
He slapped her across the other cheek. Her feet got tangled and she fell against the wall. "In the god damn laundry, Harley?! Your brilliant, ingenious, foolproof plan was to shove me IN THE GOD DAMN LAUNDRY?"
"But it worked." She said, almost as if to reassure herself.
Joker's face went wicked. His lips curled up in a snarl and his eyes were wild and dark. He swung as hard as he could, catching Harley in the side of the mouth, splitting her lip. "This isn't some kiddie cartoon, Harley!" His fist landed across her jaw, blood and spit splattered across the wall. "You think next time we rob a bank we'll use giant sacks with dollar signs painted on them?! You can't do anything right without me!" He caught her up by the throat. A panicked look came into Harley's eyes. He seemed to almost enjoy the fear in them. His mouth contorted in an animal fashion. His voice came out low and deep, almost calm. "I do not belong in the fucking laundry." He held her tight, pinned against the wall, and punched her square in the face. She felt the impact across the whole right side of her face. Her head slammed back into the wall. Joker released his grip around her neck and she collapsed, coughing. He tossed a handkerchief at her. "Clean up your mess."
Harley picked up the white cloth and held it to her lip. Blood spread through the fabric, staining it. She pulled it away and stared at it. The bright red flowed across each thread. A joker's grinning face was embroidered in the corner, the cloth hemmed in bright green. The blood reached the green, turning it brown. Harley stared blankly at the square of cotton. She swallowed, her spit was sweet with the metallic taste of blood. It burned in her sore throat. She steadied herself with a hand on the wall and stood. She threw the bloody cloth at Joker and ran out the door.
Joker burst through the fun house door. "Get back here, Harley!" She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. "Where are you going to go?!" Joker screamed for her to come back. "Harley!" He yelled after her, demanding she come back. But he didn't leave the steps. Harley reached the amusement park gate and disappeared into the dark.
Joker growled to himself. "Who is she going to run to? Who's going to take her in? No one's going to take care of her like I do." He stalked back into the fun house. "One of you get in here and clean up this god damn mess!"