AUTHOR'S NOTE: HOLA! I was freaking out not even five minutes ago about how my story has already been alerted & favorited ( is that a word? Yes? No? oh well) and it's only been up for like…30 minutes? OH MY GOSHHHHH! Anyways, (I Love You Follower of Pan!) I am going to write the next chapter because I am so PUMPED about being alerted soooooo Voilà! Next Chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The Dark Knight. Zilch. Noda. Rien. Niets. You Get The Picture.

Her long night had consisted of saving Selina Kyle's ass. Her old friend from university had gotten deep with the 'sharks'. Selina had become wrapped up into the mob scene after a wild night of partying freshman year at Gotham U. Harley, being the genius of her little group of friends, tried to drag her out of the cocaine circle, but Selina had never been a very good listener. On that night Miss Kyle had fucked herself over. That night, however, Harley had received a call from her dear friend and apparently Selina was in dire need of a 'second man' to help with the drug run. Harley hated working with the mob. They were bossy, stupid and completely unorganized. They hired the most stupid henchman possible, but Harley surmised that was because they were dispensable that way. After the drug run, Selina's shift at Burney's Strip & Tip Bar began, and Harley had driven back home. Exhausted, she fell asleep on her couch, not even making it to her bedroom, still fully clothed and un-showered.

She woke up the next morning with a pain in her neck from sleeping awkwardly on her small couch. As she padded to her bathroom, she rubbed her face. She gasped as her hand came away covered in grease paint. Oh yeah, She thought. She remembered then. The drug runs with Selina. She had gone has Harley Quinn because it kept them on edge. Plus, she wasn't even sure if the underdeveloped cavemen knew her real identity. She'd keep that part to herself.

After showering, she dressed in simple blue skinny jeans and a black tee. After applying concealer and eyeliner, she slipped on her ballet flats and jacket, and headed out the door. She hadn't eaten breakfast, but seeing as it was already 11:00 in the morning, she could wait till lunchtime. That afternoon she had gone to see her father. Her father had been a good man, but he had gotten dealt into the mob scene. He was well-liked there and even considered something of a 'Boss'. However, one bad heist was all it took to get him thrown into Blackgate Penitentiary. He had been at the center of the heist and had shot two cops between the eyes. That had given him life in prison. Harley had been 17 and his son had killed himself a month before. Harley sighed as she remembered the conversation.

"Harl! How's my petite fille?" her Father asked. He was smiling at her and completely jovial. She had always been daddy's girl and quite possibly his favorite.

"Fine Dad, how have you been holding up?" Harley answered. Dick Quinzel looked young for his 55 years, exceptionally young for being locked up for 10 years. He had dirty blonde hair like the female sitting before him and bright blue eyes which Harley also inherited. He had light frown lines and a few wrinkles here and there, but he didn't look his 55 years.

"Ehh, I've been fed, clothed, and sheltered. That's about it. It's also about all I deserve really." He sighed through the phone. Then his eyes lit up. "So how's my petite femme's social life?"

"Ehh. I've been hanging out with Pam night and day and we've been having what Pam calls 'girls nights' with Selina." Harley spoke back into the phone.

Dick Quinzel's eyebrows shot up. "Girls nights? With Selina Kyle? Hah, and what would that be? Dancing in shitty, sweaty, and smelly nightclubs? Oh god, you didn't go to a Hooka Bar did you!"

Harley burst out laughing. "Dad! They call those 'Strip Clubs' now-a-days! And no! You think I'd do something like that, hmm?"

"With Selina Kyle, Yes."

"Okay fine! But once doesn't count. Maybe twice. Three times?" Harley chuckled to herself. "Daddy, nightclubs are fun. As long as you purchase your own drink and don't leave them unattended and don't get gang raped your fine!" She started to laugh as she realized the absurdity of her statement. Her father joined her.

Her father's chuckling ceased and a devious smirk appeared on his face. "Met any boys at these nightclubs? Any…..special boys?"

"Dad, are you trying to ask me if I've ever taken a guy home before? Because I'd rather not have this conversation with you." Harley smiled. It was so like her father. He always asked in highschool if she had a boyfriend, but truthfully she never really did. Sure she was pretty, blonde hair, blue eyes. She had a petite and toned figure in result of her gymnastics. It hadn't been that she was unattractive, but she just didn't want one. She was consumed with the idea of getting her scholarship and she didn't have time for silly egotistical highschool boys. Besides, if she had had one, he would've been scared off. Her mother was batshit crazy, and her dad was in the mob. That would've gone over real well. 'Hi, my mother has breakdowns every so often and my father shoots people and sells drugs for a living. Wanna go out?' So Harleen Quinzel had stayed under the radar of male companionship until she could get away from her family and to University.

"Well just don't tell your mother about any of that because although you're twenty seven, your mother still thinks you're fresh out of the womb. Although don't be transferring any type of diseases, mon cher." Her father said.

"Dad, don't worry. I'm not bringing guys home," Harley rolled her eyes. He was always looking out for her in some way, shape, or form.

"Alright well I was just making sure because you are still my baby and before I was in here, you were still my little-"

"Dad, has mom ever been to visit you?" Harley queried. She already knew the answer to her question, but she wanted to hear it from him.

Her father sighed. "No, not lately."

Harley's eyes narrowed. "Cut the crap dad. She's never been to see you. I don't understand! She won't divorce you, yet she still won't come to see or talk to you. She could at least send you a damn letter."

"Harleen, your mother is very complicated. She always knew what I'd been doing and she once told me that if I ever hurt our children she'd never speak to me again. She blamed me for Vince's death and that was the rule breaker. She didn't talk to me much in my last month. She didn't talk much to anyone or anything during that month anyway." Her father's eyes had lost some of their brightness as he remembered.

Harley was silent for a moment and then, "She still wears her wedding ring you know." Harley looked him in the eye. "She still loves you, Dad."

Her father smiled. "I love your mother still. Despite everything that has happened, I still love and miss her." He sighed as he said his next words. "But I respect her choice of not coming to see me. I'm hurt that she doesn't want to see me, but your mother was hurt too. She lost her son and husband in a month's time, then a year later her daughter." Her father looked at her.

Harley pointed her index finger at him. "Hey, don't blame me. I can only take so much of grief-stricken, crazy ass women."

"Be nicer to your mother. After a decade she's still broken." Her father replied.

"Yeah well, she's going to be fucking broken for forever." Harley spat back.

"Watch your mouth, young lady." Her father gave her a stern glance. "And heed my words missy. Go see your mother. She needs you, and please don't fight. She can only take so much."

Harley sighed and mock-saluted her father, "Will do, general. Any other orders?"

"Yeah, one more pumpkin, stay outta trouble! You understand?" Her father retaliated, smiling.

Harley laughed. "Hah Dad, when am I ever in trouble?" She smirked deviously.

Chuckling, her father spoke into the phone once more, "See you later, kid. I love you."

"I love you too, dad." Harley said. With that, she hung up the phone and watched her dad be escorted from the room. She sighed and walked out the door. Outside of the building she hailed another cab. She gave the driver the address to her mother's home and buckled her seatbelt. She might as well go and check up on her dear old mother.

Harley sighed, yet again, as she remembered her conversation with her mother earlier that day. Lynnette Quinzel could be impossible at times. Almost all the time, Harley mused.

She let such thoughts slip from her mind at the moment, however. She had business to take care of. She picked up her cellular phone and dialed Pamela Isley's phone number. It rang twice before Red answered.

"Hello?" Pam spoke.

"Pammy poo?" Harley said.

"Yes woman?"

"Wanna be my date tonight?" Harley asked. She put on hot water for a cup of tea.

"Hah okay. Where we going?" Pam replied.

"The…Iceberg Lounge?"

"Isn't that owned by the fat creepy guy that calls himself 'The Penguin'?" Pam asked.

"Uhhhhhh Hah yeah about that," Harley set out a mug and dropped the tea packet into the cup. "His name is Oswald Cobblepot and he isn't immensely creepy he's just a bit…..weird"

"Hah yeah Harls, that guy was hitting on me like no tomorrow the last time you dragged me to that place! It smelled like fish and it was extremely freez-" Pam's ranting was cut off.

"Yeah okay so pick me up at 8? Yes? Okay Yay! I knew that you would be so excited for this! Well I'll see you then." Before Harley hung up, she caught a few of Pam's profanities. Oh she'd get over it. Besides, Harley had important business. Pam was just being Pammy. She poured the hot water into her mug and and stirred. After letting the tea steep for 3 minutes, she took it out and threw it away.

Tonight is going to be interesting, She mused as she sat down onto her couch and turned on her television.