A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger. You knew I wouldn't keep you hanging on too long, though, right? Heh. I don't own DC Comics affiliated characters. Another quick sidenote: I introduce the villain Bane in this chapter, and I would like to point out that I am taking artistic liberty with the character because his background is kind of confusing, in my opinion, so just let me run with it, guys. I know he is going to be in the next Batman film "The Dark Knight Rises" and is being portrayed by Tom Hardy, but I sort of picture him as more like Bradley Cooper mostly because I kind of adore Bradley Cooper, but you can picture him as Tom Hardy as much as your little hearts desire. Peace, love, and happy reading, everyone!

Chapter 6: Noose Around Your Neck

But I have seen the same

I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope

And I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck

"The Cave," Mumford & Sons

Disoriented, I blinked my eyes slowly, trying to regain focus and get some idea of my surroundings. I tried to move my head, wincing as my neck cracked painfully. My hands, I soon realized, were tied together and bound to a chair. The room was dark with only a crack of light coming from the gap between the door and the floor. Footsteps paced outside the door, their shadows dancing and cutting off some of the light. Hushed voices were arguing rapidly.

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Yes," a man's voice snapped in response, "We caught her outside Wayne's mansion."

"I wonder what she was doing there."

"Fuck if I know, but I know her and Wayne had something going on before. They were engaged, I think."

"Really?" the other voice sounded intrigued, "That could work to our advantage."

The doorknob turned, and the door was pushed open. I closed my eyes at the sudden burst of light, and a hand slapped me across the face.

"Wake up, whore."

I spit at whoever this person was, not even caring if I pissed him off, "Fuck you, prick! What do you want with me?"

"A feisty one," he laughed, and as I adjusted my eyes to the light in the room, I could see he was a tall man, impressively muscular, with dark hair and tanned skin. He spoke with a decidedly English accent, "I can't imagine how the Joker puts up with this one. She seems like a little pain in the ass."

"Who are you, and what the hell do you want with me?" I asked snidely, "I don't take too kindly to being kidnapped."

"I don't think you are in much of a position to be asking a lot of questions, Miss Quinzel." He said, but added thoughtfully, "However, since you are so bold and I like that in a woman, I will tell you. The name is Bane, and as for what the hell I want with you…you're just going to have to wait and find out."

"That's nice and deceptive." I snorted derisively.

"Yes, well, I can't have you knowing too much." He grinned; his teeth were surprisingly white and straight. He clearly had a wealthy upbringing, judging by his well-groomed appearance and stiff posture.

He leaned forward, studying me closely, "You are a pretty one, Miss Quinzel. I can see why Bruce Wayne and the Joker are vying for your attention."

"Why were you waiting outside Bruce's house?"

"Well, isn't that the million-dollar question." Bane shrugged nonchalantly, much to my complete exasperation, "As I said, all will be revealed in due time. But for now, I would like it if you just settle in and get comfortable, because you're going to be here a while."

"Life can't be too comfortable in a metal folding chair." I said as he turned to walk out of the room.

He halted for a moment, and then stepped outside. He grabbed a man walking by, "Move Miss Quinzel to a room with a bed, if you please. She is a lady, after all."

Bane turned to look at me, and a hint of a smile crossed his face. He then disappeared into the hallway, and the aforementioned man came in, and untied me from the chair. He held my hands behind my back, and led me to a staircase a few feet away. We climbed up a couple flights of stairs and we arrived at a room. He opened the door for me, and pushed me inside, slamming the door behind me.

Rude.

I guess I could have fought back. But at this point, I was just too tired and confused to do anything except conjure up the energy to keep my persona intact. I couldn't let myself go down looking like a weak little bitch. That just wouldn't do.

There was a window in the room, I noticed. I walked over to it, hoping that it would give me some sense of where I was. I nearly stumbled as I saw how high up this building was; it was one of the skyscrapers in Gotham. I recognized a couple of the buildings across the street. I had been down there before, shopping and running errands. Well, there went my idea of risking it and just jumping out the window.

Plus, the window was locked tightly, as I found out by shoving all my weight against it. I cursed to myself, rubbing my now-aching shoulder, "Stupid fucking windows in this stupid fucking place where I am being fucking held hostage!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Keep it down in there!" someone tapped loudly on my door.

"Go fuck yourself up the ass!" I ever-so-eloquently replied.

"Women," I heard the guy mutter.

I collapsed on the bed in the room, staring up at the ceiling, feeling totally and utterly helpless. That was a feeling I didn't particularly like, and by that I mean for me, that was the worst god damn feeling in the world.

I bolted straight up, and checked my pockets. Of course they had taken my phone and my wallet. I keep thinking men are stupid, and they continually surprise me.

…

I eventually managed to fall asleep, but it was fitful and was done in desperation to get out of being bored out of my damn mind. The room had nothing in it except me, and I wasn't the best company imaginable in my state.

After I woke up the next morning, I called outside the door, "Hey…um, guy that sits out there?"

"Yes?" he asked somewhat reluctantly.

"Can you give me some paper or something?"

"Why?"

I could see why he would be skeptical, but pressed onward, "I'm really bored and I just want something to do. I can at least draw or write…if I'm going to be a prisoner, I would really prefer not to be left to my own devices."

"…I'll see what I can do." He said after a moment's hesitation. I then heard his footsteps retreating down the tiled hallway.

He returned about 5 minutes later, opened the door the slightest sliver possible, and thrust 4 or 5 pieces of paper into the room. Just when I was about to ask if the moron remembered a pencil, a sharpened number-two pencil was handed to me, as well.

"Thanks, bro," I said.

He mumbled some incoherent acceptance of my gratitude.

I doodled on the floor for a while, which managed to keep me somewhat occupied. Incessant knocking interrupted my creative flow, and I irritably got up and walked to the door.

"Yes?" I asked.

"It's Bane." He said curtly.

"Alright," I rolled my eyes, and stepped aside as he stepped inside. As I got a somewhat better look at him, he wasn't actually that bad looking; in fact, he was quite handsome with his hair slicked back, bronzed skin; he was dressed in a very fashionable Armani three-piece suit and matching shoes.

"Good morning," he said, and closed the door behind him, "I hope you slept well."

"As well as I could in a lumpy-ass twin size bed." I was almost embarrassed for myself at how ridiculously bitchy I sounded, but it was too late to take it back.

He sat down on it, and then stood up almost immediately, "Yes, I'm pretty sure I would throw out my back sleeping on that. I apologize. I will move you as soon as possible."

"Thanks," I said. I stared at him quizzically; I could not figure this guy out. First, he calls me a whore and then he's all gentlemanly with me. I know guys played games to get what they wanted, but being bipolar takes it a little far for my taste.

"Miss Quinzel," he began.

"Harley," I corrected, "We might as well get familiar if I'm going to be staying here for an indefinite amount of time."

"Well, then, Harley," he smiled slightly; this was then followed with an awkwardly long pause, "I'm trying to figure out what has the Joker so fixed. I mean, your outward beauty is apparent, but the only emotion I've seen from you is angry and hormonal. I take it that there's more to you than meets the eye, hmm?"

"I guess so." I shrugged, "I only show the best of me to people that deserve it. You being my kidnapper...um, well, not exactly in my list of people that deserve it."

"I understand completely." He sighed, "Harley, I really didn't want to resort to kidnapping. It's so amateur."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Ah, there's the complicated part." He strode over to the window, resting his hands on the ledge, "You live with the Joker, correct?"

I remained silent.

"Harley, if you want to get through this, you're going to have to answer my questions." Bane said, fists clenching a little.

"Ok, Mr. Anger Management," I said, "Yes, I live with the Joker."

"Just the two of you?"

"Yes."

"You were engaged to Bruce Wayne."

"Was that a question or were you asking for affirmation?"

"You know what I meant by it," he frowned.

"Yes, I was engaged to Bruce Wayne."

"Why did you leave him?"

"That's a bit personal." This wasn't my bravado talking; I did actually feel sort of uncomfortable.

"I am getting a little impatient with your aversion to answering me." Bane said warningly.

"Alright, alright," I said quickly. I think I knew better than to make a man three times my size murderously angry, "I left Bruce for the Joker."

"So, then you love the Joker?"

"Yes, but not in the romantic sense," I replied.

"Is there any other way to love someone?"

"I love him in a protector sort of way…it's a very confusing thing, inexplicable at times. He is my friend, and I want to protect him from the world at all costs. I don't love him in the way he loves me."

"And how is that?" Bane asked.

I knew I was revealing too much, but I had to keep going, "Well, he is in love with me, basically. He would do anything for me. I say that because I know it's true, and I can't avoid it. I know you want to use that to your advantage, but the Joker is always one step ahead of everyone else. You remember that, Bane. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met, but not in the conventional sense. He knows you down to your deepest core, your last fiber just by 10 minutes alone with you. It is disconcerting how well he can figure you out. You'll find out soon enough."

"Is that a threat?" Bane's lips twitched upward, amused.

"No, it's a promise." I said grimly, "Honestly, I don't think you want Bruce Wayne and the Joker on your heels. They're both very powerful men in their own right."

"I'm a powerful man myself." He flexed his arms in a gesture of pure machismo, "In case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I have," I said in acknowledgment, surveying his impressive form.

"Do I detect a hint of flirtation in your voice, Miss Quinzel?"

"I think you need to have your hearing examined." I shot back, flushing.

Seriously, I cannot be a victim of Stockholm syndrome. That's so fucking typical. I wanted to bang my head against a wall for my very inappropriate, misplaced affections for another man behavior, but I was afraid that might look a little strange.

Jesus, I'm like a walking psychological case study.

"Miss Quinzel?" his voice broke my derailing train of thought.

"What?"

"You sort of blanked for a minute there." He raised an eyebrow, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." I shook my head vehemently, trying to focus on the moment, "Sorry. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

He glanced at his watch, "Ah, damn, I'm a bit late for a very important engagement. I will have to put this little interrogation on hold. I will be back later. In the meantime, if you need anything, just ask Gerard."

"Who's that?"

"The man that keeps a very vigilant watch outside your door," he replied.

"Ah," I said simply.

He bid me farewell and swept out of the room before I had a chance to say anything more. I sat down on the bed, massaging my throbbing temples. Maybe I should ask Gerard for an Advil. I exhaled audibly. This was already just not my day. I knew it was going to be a while before anyone truly noticed I was gone. Bruce and I didn't exactly have reliable, solid communication with one another, and the Joker was already pissed at me. The only person I could think of that might be concerned right away was Pam. I usually texted Pam all day, telling her about my boring existence; she was bound to figure out something was up.

I hoped someone would, and soon. I needed to get out before something bad happened, or worse…I would actually start to like this guy.