The first thing she saw was the green question mark.

The Joker had dropped Harley off at her apartment building like Pam had "instructed". He advised Harley to call him if anything was amiss.

Oh, something was definitely amiss.

Her apartment was trashed. The graffiti on her door was a bright green question mark and the same marking adorned her furniture, fridge, and cabinets. It seemed like every one of her belongings littered the floor, and most of them were broken.

Before she traveled farther into her home, she took two steps to her coat closet located next to her door. Inside of her red leather jacket was a semi-automatic that she quickly and quietly retrieved.

She stalked throughout her apartment checking to see if any of her intruders were lurking in the shadows. When she was positive that there weren't any, she examined the rest of her apartment thoroughly.

To her knowledge, nothing had been stolen. Hmmm, She thought, they are definitely targeting me. Suddenly, an absurd thought came to her. What if "these people" were after the Joker, but using her to get to him? That would imply that they were together. As in together-together. Oh No. No Way.

It was either the former or the latter. Harley knew that it couldn't possibly be Pam. Poison Ivy hadn't been out as herself in weeks, nor had she caused any trouble with anyone. Well, as far as Harley knew.

Harley sighed and sat down on her ruined couch. She needed to get somewhere safe. These creeps knew where she lived and could come again. Not that she couldn't take them. She could skin them alive and boil them if she wanted to, but that required effort and planning and at the moment Harley had more problems than hoodlums.

She knew where she should go. She always could go to Selina's, but she knew they could find her in a little, dingy apartment listed in the phone book. Besides, if they knew where she lived then they must know her circle of friends. She didn't want to put Pam or Selina in danger. After all, they were only friends.

Her only other option was him. And he would be so cocky when she called him. "Need my assistance, do you?" He'd say with his trademark, smart-ass grin. Secretly she did, but Hell would have to freeze over before she told him that. She needed somewhere safe, hidden, and secure. No one ever found out where the Joker stayed, and hopefully not even they could.

She sighed as she poked through her contacts to find him. She was positive he set his "name" as some immature pet name or such. Although, when she found :

Jack N.

listed, she stopped and sucked in a breath. Could that possibly be his real name? If so, why would he tell me? She decided she'd question him about it later and dialed his number. The phone rang twice before he answered.

"Princess, is this a distress call?"

She sighed into the phone. Of course. She was right. "Oh yes, I'm a damsel in distress, please come save me, yadda, yadda, yadda."

He chuckled as she continued, "Listen, my apartments trashed. Whoever's targeting me, you, us, have found out where I live and I think I might have to stay with you for awhile."

"Ohhh, so you are a damsel in distress, hm?" The Joker snickered again before continuing, "Take some pictures of your apartment before leaving and pack your bags. I'll be there in fifteen." With that, he hung up.

Harley shut her phone and grumbled. His place was the last place she wanted to stay. Especially overnight.

Although, he had fixed it up well and she'd see her babies night and day. And there had been no argument? He didn't even care? She was beginning to see just how odd the man really was. She weighed the pros and cons of staying with him as she packed clothing, shoes, toiletries, etc.

Well, she'd finally have a lovely view. He was rather handsome and leanly built. However, extremely arrogant, distant, and annoying. Her mind drifted to where she would be sleeping and for a fleeting moment, she thought of sleeping with him. In the same bed. Together. Possibly Naked.

Oh no, no, no! She took a deep breath and tried to rid herself of those thoughts. He was an attractive man, but she couldn't possibly do that with him. Not that she didn't want to, just that he'd never let her live that down. Besides, it would never work between them. He was the god damned Joker after all!

Psychotic.

Unloving.

Unemotional.

Uncompassionate.

Uncaring.

Sadistic.

Wretched.

Hurtful.

Spontaneous.

Etc.

She listed them all off in her head. But there was also the fact that he was funny, witty, sexy, and completely unpredictable. However, her cons to him definitely outweighed the pros.

She shook her head frantically and banished the thoughts as she angrily snapped a few quick photos of her ruined apartment. She stood next to her door, leaning on the wall, and waited for the call to announce his arrival.

A few minutes later her phone vibrated and she stomped out of her apartment, closing the door behind her. She took the stairs that led to the back of the building and emerged to find him in a black SUV with the engine running. She quickly walked to the passenger side and got in, slamming the door. Buckling her seatbelt, she saw him smirking at her from the corner of her eye.

"What?" She snapped at him. He held his hands up in innocence before placing them back onto the steering wheel saying, "Nothing, nothing."

She huffed and crossed her arms. Harley glared ahead as the Joker put the vehicle into drive and began to travel back to his (their) current home. He glanced down at the duffel bag that contained her belongings.

"That's all you brought?" He said with raised brows.

"Yeah, why?" She answered him with a question of her own.

"Just wondering how all of your shit fit in one bag," the Joker stated, putting emphasis on one.

"Would it seem that I would need more than one bag?" She snapped. She turned her glare to him now and he figured that if looks could kill, he'd be dead.

"Hah, I'm just saying that I've seen your apartment and there is no way that all your 'lady things' fit into one duffel bag." He glanced at her quickly in disbelief, and then directed his eyes back to the road. "I mean, it was shit filled. You were like a little hoarder, I mean-"

"Okay, okay!" She said, stopping him from his rant on her being a pack rat. "Well, I guess that I've surprised you because this is it."

"You sure? Because I really don't want to go back there for anymore of your-" He cleared his throat-"'things'." He raised his brows to her in question.

She sighed and said curtly, "I'm fine. I don't need anything else." The way that she said it, he thought for sure she'd bite his head off.

"What's got your panties in a knot?" He asked.

"You, now drive faster. Being this close to you makes me break out in hives." She lied.

He chuckled before replying, "You didn't break out in hives when we were making out, did you? Or when I was running my hands down your-"

"Shut up, shut up!" She seethed. "We are not talking about that." As she spoke, she had retrieved her sunglasses and iPod. Turning the Apple product as loud as it would go, and slumping into her seat, Harley began her plan of ignoring him.

The Joker was stunned. What had turned her mood sour so suddenly? That afternoon they had been having a good time (shockingly) and she had even let him kiss her. A lot. And now she was this nasty, bitchy thing. He didn't retaliate back at her though. He figured that she must be worried. About Pam. About herself. About him. Oh wouldn't that be grand, he thought with a grin. His clown. Worried about him. How sweet.

He apparently didn't understand her plan anymore then her sudden mood change, because he was still trying to communicate with her.

"Ooh, Led Zeppelin, nice. Can I sing along?" He grinned.

She groaned and slapped her forehead as he began to sing the words of Kashmir.