"Dr. Quinzel, you're working late," commented the guard on the night shift as Harleen strode down the hall toward her office.
"Yes, I have some paperwork to do," sighed Harleen. "I keep putting it off, but it's due tomorrow, so I guess I'm in for a long haul tonight. Could you do me a favor and get me a cup of coffee, please?"
"Sure thing," said the guard, heading off down the hall. Harleen unlocked the door and headed over to her desk, pulling out Jack's file and flipping through it. As the guard returned with her coffee, she swore loudly.
"Sorry, excuse the language, thank you," she said, taking the mug from him.
"Is everything ok?" asked the guard.
"I've just realized that I forgot to get Napier's signature on one of our meeting forms, and he has to sign it so I can officially submit it," explained Harleen, holding up the document. "Do you think he's still awake?" she asked, glancing at her watch.
"I'll go see," said the guard. He returned a few moments later saying, "He's asleep, but I'll be happy to wake him up."
"Could you?" asked Harleen. "And bring him here? I know he might be a little grumpy, but this has to be done."
The guard disappeared, and returned a few moments later with Jack in tow, saying, "A little grumpy was the understatement of the century."
"God dammit, it's not enough that I have to put up with these stupid sessions during regular hours but you don't let me sleep now?" demanded Jack. "This some new trick therapy of yours, Doc, sleep deprivation?!"
"You want him chained up for this?" asked the guard.
"Yes, handcuff him at least, please," said Harleen, nodding. "He can still write, but I don't want his arms free. And then bring him over here."
The guard obeyed, dragging a handcuffed Jack over to Harleen's desk. "I just need you to sign this paper on the dotted line, Mr. Napier," said Harleen, handing him a pen. "And then you can go back to bed, and I'll never trouble you again."
"No, you won't," agreed Jack. "You certainly won't."
He suddenly threw the handcuffs around her neck, pulling tight, as one hand gripped the pen tightly next to her eye. "Ok, sport," he hissed, holding her in front of him as he rounded on the guard. "Now you're gonna do everything I ask, aren't you? Unless you want the good doctor here to lose an eye."
The guard froze, his hand reaching for his walkie talkie to call for help. "Don't try anything," said Jack, tightening his grip around Harleen's throat and shoving the pen closer to her eye. "Hand me the key to these handcuffs, and your gun, and put your radio on the floor."
"Please…do what he says…" gasped Harleen, hoping she looked genuinely terrified. She willed tears to her eyes, which wasn't difficult – she just thought about what would happen to both of them if this game didn't work.
The guard obeyed slowly, putting the walkie talkie down on the ground, and holding out the key. "Take it," snapped Jack at Harleen. "And unlock these. Turn around slowly, and don't try anything funny," he warned, as Harleen obeyed. Her heart was beating wildly as she stared up at his handsome face, so stern and threatening and dangerous…it took a lot of effort to resist kissing him, but she managed to retain her terrified look as she unlocked the handcuffs. Jack seized her around the throat in one hand, and whispered, "Now hand me the gun."
Harleen obeyed, taking the gun the guard held out and handing it to Jack. "Now I'm getting outta here," said Jack, shoving the gun against Harleen's temple as he dragged her in front of him, heading for the door. "If you try and call for help, I'll blow her brains out."
"Please listen to him," begged Harleen, letting her tears fall. "I don't want to end up like his cellmate…"
"Shut up!" snapped Jack, pressing the gun harder against her temple, and she sobbed. "Keep quiet – if anyone gets alerted, you're a dead woman."
Jack dragged her out of the office and down the hallway toward the front door. "Nobody try and be a hero!" he shouted at the few employees who were still there. "I'm not afraid to kill her, so don't try me!"
Harleen kept sobbing as he dragged her out of the door and into the parking lot. He shoved his hand into her pocket, withdrawing her keys, and then unlocked her car. "Get in," he snapped, shoving her into the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, screeching out of the parking lot and off into the streets of Gotham.
"How long do you think we've got before the police get on this?" asked Harleen, fixing her hair as Jack drove.
"Twenty minutes, maybe slightly more," said Jack. He looked at her. "You sure you wanna go through with this next part?"
"Of course I'm sure," said Harleen.
He shrugged. "I just thought you might have changed your mind and…decided to come with me."
"Jack, I told you, I can't," said Harleen. "I'm not suited for that kinda life, hiding from the cops and killing people."
"But we'd be together," he said, looking at her.
She kissed him. "We will be together," she murmured. "It's just gonna be a secret. And isn't that more thrilling when you think about it? A secret, dangerous affair that nobody can know about – it's so bad and wrong and wicked. I'm getting kinda turned on just thinking about it."
"Me too," he agreed, kissing her. "You are quite the fabulous little actress, you know that? Acting all afraid of me – I was tempted to just drop the act and reassure you of my feelings a few times."
"Mmm, and I had a hard time keeping my mouth off you with you threatening me like that," murmured Harleen. "We should roleplay that situation the next time we're together."
"And when will that be?" he asked.
"We don't have time to iron out the details right now – just call me," said Harleen. "You have my number and my address written down here in the glove compartment, which is a natural thing for me to have in my car. The cops won't suspect a thing when they find it. Just let me know as soon as you're settled in a hideout, so I don't worry."
"I will, I promise," he said. "I'll call you as soon as I'm somewhere with a phone."
"Ok," she said, kissing him. "Then I guess we're ready for the next part."
He nodded. "I love you, Harley Quinn," he murmured, gazing at her.
"And I love you, Jack Napier," she replied, smiling.
He kissed her again. "Call me Joker," he said. "You ready?"
"Ready," she said, putting her hand on the door handle. Jack slammed on the brake, Harleen opened the door, and Jack shoved her out of the car.
"Good riddance, you dumb bitch!" he snapped, slamming the door shut and then screeching off into the street.
A crowd instantly gathered around Harleen to make sure she was all right as she gazed after the car, feeling nothing except the overwhelming regret that she hadn't gone with him, and the urge to follow him. That was nonsense, her brain reminded her – the last thing she wanted to be was a fugitive from the law. She and Jack would be together again soon without her throwing her life away.
"Harleen, oh, thank God!" gasped Dr. Leland, embracing her as she was brought back to Arkham by a good samaritan. "We thought he might have killed you!"
"No, I'm…ok," stammered Harleen. "Just a little bruised from being thrown out of the car."
"I think you're lucky to be alive – do you feel up to talking to the police, or should I tell them to come back later?" asked Dr. Leland.
"No, I can…talk," said Harleen, slowly. "Maybe I could get a cup of coffee first, though."
"Of course – I'll get it," said Dr. Leland, ushering her into her office. "These are Detectives Bullock and Montoya – they'd like to speak to you about Mr. Napier," she said, introducing the two police officers waiting in the room.
"Dr. Quinzel," said Montoya, shaking her hand. "We're relieved to see you're all right. And we're sorry to be back here under such circumstances."
"Yeah, two crimes in as many days by the same guy," commented Bullock, lighting up a cigar. "I dunno why the courts threw that Napier bum in here – if he'd gotten the chair in the first place, none of this would have happened."
"Well, hindsight is 20/20," said Montoya. "But speaking of hindsight, did you have any warnings that Mr. Napier would try something like this?"
"Uh…no," said Harleen. "I mean, I guess he seemed more unstable after murdering his cellmate, but I never would have thought…he'd do anything like this."
"The guard says you asked him to be handcuffed this time, but not during the session right after he killed his cellmate," said Montoya. "Why is that?"
"He was calm after he killed his cellmate, but he was very agitated tonight," said Harleen. "I guess maybe I should have thought something was up, but…I don't think anyone could have seen this coming."
"And what happened in the car?" asked Montoya. "Did he threaten you, or try to assault you in some way?"
"He…said he could have killed me, but that I wasn't worth staining the upholstery for," murmured Harleen. "He said I was an idiot for thinking he could ever be reformed, and that everything he ever told me had been a lie. And then he threw me out of the car. I think…that was funnier than killing me, in his mind. To let me live knowing that I had been taken in by him, so I'll always doubt my decisions and my actions. He has…a very cruel sense of humor."
"No kidding," agreed Bullock. "And now he's out there somewhere, up to God knows what. We should be out there after him, Montoya."
"Harvey, Gordon said to let him handle it," retorted Montoya.
"Yeah, and you know what that means, don't you?" demanded Bullock. "The Comish is getting his pet bat involved…"
"Harvey!" interrupted Montoya, angrily, as Dr. Leland returned with the coffee. "That's classified information! Let's keep it that way."
"Whatever," muttered Bullock. "Crazy, cape-wearing freak," he muttered under his breath, puffing angrily on his cigar.
Harleen was about to question them further about Batman, when another officer entered the room. "Excuse me, detectives, but we've found Dr. Quinzel's car," he said. "It was abandoned down by the river."
"Guess the creep ditched it as soon as he could so we couldn't track him," muttered Bullock, taking the photographs from the officer. "Looks in pretty good shape though, considering."
"Was anything taken from it?" asked Montoya.
"Not that we could see, but Dr. Quinzel will probably need to verify that later," said the officer, nodding. "But Detective Bullock's right – it's still in good working order. After we've gone over it for prints and evidence, she can have it back."
"Well, that's good news anyway," said Dr. Leland, smiling. "Saves on your insurance, Harleen."
"Yeah," agreed Harleen. "Good news." She cleared her throat. "As a personal favor to me, I'd appreciate if you kept me informed of anything you find in this case. Or...anything any allies of yours find," she added, looking pointedly at Bullock.
"Trust me, Doc, he's no ally of mine," retorted Bullock.
"But we will," finished Montoya, nodding. "If Napier is brought in…by anyone, you'll probably be needed to testify at his kidnapping trial. I understand that might be very difficult for you…"
"Yes," agreed Harleen. "But it's important that he's brought to justice for his crimes. And we all have to do our part in upholding justice."
Montoya smiled at her. "You're a very brave woman, Dr. Quinzel," she said.
"I don't have any other choice," said Harleen, smiling back. "But thank you."
Inwardly her stomach was twisting in knots at the thought of Jack being hunted down by the vigilante nutcase known as Batman. Of course she knew Jack could probably outwit him, but she was more anxious than ever to receive that phone call from him, to hear his voice telling her he was all right. She hoped he wouldn't keep her in suspense too long.