They were both seated on a black leather couch in what was the Joker's living room.

Harley's eyes were glued to one of the three televisions that were mounted to the wall. As she watched Looney Tunes. While glancing at the news channel. While glancing at the weather channel.

She was beginning to become dizzy. How did he watch all of them at once? The man could watch all three simultaneously while planning out his next strategy to bring chaos and anarchy to Gotham. And write words on paper. She stared at him with a baffled expression, but he didn't look up from the pictures he was studying. He was so strange. But that was another thing that had her attracted. Unfortunately.

"How do you do this…? And you take notes, at the same time?" Harley said, completely astonished.

"It looks harder than it is. Besides, I've been doing it for years so it becomes an easy task. By the way, I love this episode," The Joker mumbled. He glanced up and gestured to the third TV that was currently playing Looney Tunes. He then slumped back into the couch and looked at the pictures with a puzzled expression.

"Did you find any notes… or anything of that sort?" The Joker asked her while chewing on his pen in thought.

Wile E. Coyote had just been crushed by an anvil and Harley had barely registered that the Joker was speaking to her. "Huh? Wahh?"

"Harl, did you find any notes?" He asked again. He glanced up at her and saw her slowly turn her head away from the screen.

"Did I find any…?" She asked dumbly.

The Joker sighed and turned off the television showing the cartoon.

"Hey! I was-"

"A note Harley! This could be important! Did you find any?" His tone was snappish this time and he sat up, staring at her.

"Not that I can recall, but I'm quite positive that my intruder didn't leave anything other than the graffiti," She stated. She then clicked back on the third television and leaned back into the couch, folding her arms behind her head.

"Sooo all that you saw/found was…the question marks?" He questioned, eyebrows raised at her.

"Correctomundo, Mr. J," Harley replied as she watched the coyote be defeated once again by Roadrunner, falling off a cliff to a waiting explosion; the classic.

He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees. "Have you ever seen these before? The question marks, I mean?"

He apparently needed her attention, so she muted the television and scooted closer to him. "No…have you?"

"I don't think so," He glared at the picture with a baffled expression. "Must be some type of Mob symbol or new criminal…vigilante? Hmm…"

It did look familiar though. Harley had a distant memory of a skinny, tall boy who used to always draw them on his papers... But that couldn't be it…could it? "No way…" She whispered.

"What?" He asked her, looking up.

"I think I've seen these before…" Harley said. She took the photo of her door baring the green symbol and stared at it. "Yes…a kid in my class used to draw these all over his papers and he once graffitied the bathroom and hallways with all those damn question marks…and he was obsessed with these stupid riddles. However, he was very smart, but always made fun of. It hink that's what made him so strange and creepy," Harley sighed and spoke again, "Only if I could remember his name! But I do remember his face; I just need my high school yearbooks to place him."

The Joker had perked up throughout her realization and asked, "Doesn't Pam have the same yearbooks? You two did go to the same school right?"

"Yes, but I don't know if she kept them. Knowing Pam, she probably did. I'll text her about it," Harley decided and pulled her phone from her front pocket. She quickly texted:

Red, I require high school yearbooks. It's about creepy question mark guy. I LOVE YOU :D

"Accomplished," She said as she placed her phone back into her left front pocket. She remembered what he had set his contact as and decided to ask him about it.

She would have, but he looked like he didn't necessarily want to be interrogated at the moment. Oh well.

"What's got you so moody?" She asked.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and got out a carton of orange juice. He ignored her question and asked, "Harley, where did you go to high school?" He walked to a cabinet and retrieved a glass.

"Gotham Public," She stated simply. "Why the question?"

He nodded and didn't meet her eyes as he poured orange juice into his glass. "No reason really…just wondering."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "No, you're prodding and there's a reason. Why?" Harley demanded.

He took a sip of his drink and looked at her over the glass. He stood and she sat silently for what seemed like hours, but was merely a few minutes.

"Look, I'm not answering you because I really was just wondering," He fibbed.

She could rarely tell when he was lying. He lied to many others without flaw, but when he lied to Harley, his right eyebrow twitched twice.

She sighed and decided to move on to her next question. Besides, once he began to ignore her, she never got far.

"The name that you put into my phone…is it yours?" She asked. He licked his lips and shifted his feet. He was definitely uncomfortable with the question, but trying hard not to show it.

"What do you mean 'is it yours?'?" He grunted. He obviously didn't want to be questioned about it, but she pressed on.

"I mean is it your real name?" She posed again, standing from the couch and sauntering into the kitchen to meet him.

"Maybe, maybe not," He stated. He glanced at her before taking another sip of the orange liquid.

Fine. If he was going to be aloof about it then she would decide that it was. His body language proved her decision to be correct.

"Why would you put it in there if you're obviously uncomfortable about it?" She asked him.

He glanced at her then back to the contents of his glass. "I thought you should know," He said simply as he placed his glass on the counter. He leaned on the counter behind him and slipped his hands into the pocket of his faded jeans. "I didn't think it was such a big deal." He was looking at her now and he shrugged.

She grinned and stepped closer to his leaning form. "You didn't tell anyone else," She taunted. She placed her hands onto the counter and leaned over him, still grinning. "Why me?"

He didn't answer her; just stared with that same blank expression

"Are you uncomfortable with your name?" She asked. She leaned closer to his face now and brushed his nose with hers.

"No," He lied.

"What does the N stand for?" Harley questioned. She brushed her face against his cheek as she leaned down to kiss his neck.

She heard his intake of breath that he was trying so hard to keep quiet. "None of your business," He murmured.

She brought her face level to his again and smiled. "Can I call you Jack?" She bit her lip and saw his face change. His poker face had changed to a frown.

"Absolutely not," He whispered.

Their noses were touching, and she saw hurt shine in his brown eyes for a split second before he kissed her quickly on the lips. He brushed past her and headed for the stairs leading to his bedroom.

She watched him as he climbed them and she wondered what caused him to hate his name so much.