Wayne Enterprises' headquarters was in the heart of Gotham's historic downtown, a massive skyscraper in the company of GothCorp, the Stock Exchange, and many others. It made Harley dizzy just looking at it.
Stopping to powder her nose, she regarded herself in the mirror. She just wore a little eyeliner and lipstick and the suit. It actually had pretty nice lines, but it seemed like something she'd wear to a funeral! Deciding that she might as well go the full nine yards, she'd dispensed with her childish pigtails and tied her hair back into a formal-looking ponytail.
"Well, here goes nothing," she said to herself and headed up to Mr. Wayne's office.
She felt a bit strange stepping into the (gigantic!) office of Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy and philanthropist, especially considering that her last interaction with him involved bashing him around the head with a mannequin arm.
Wayne was an impressive figure, 'hunky' as the tabloids tended to describe him. Square-jawed and broad shouldered, he still managed to come across as a bit of a goof in some ways. He was sitting at the office's conference table with some other people in suits, including two men Harley didn't know, and another lady in close conversation with Wayne. A middle-aged man was sitting to one side with a notebook, apparently taking minutes.
They all stood as Harley entered. "Ms. Quinzel," Wayne said, smiling, "Welcome!"
She sprang forward, turning her nervousness into enthusiasm and shook Wayne's offered hand.
"Reporting for duty, Mr. Wayne," she crowed, "Ready and willing, able to serve. I'm going to take this opportunity and knock it out of the park! Just you wait!"
"Glad to hear it," said Wayne, looking a little taken aback at Harley's outburst. She turned, with a slightly frantic grin to the others. Wayne seemed to collect himself, "Uh, Ms. Quinzel, let me introduce the rest of the committee. This is Dan Riley, the Foundation's Volunteer Coordinator. I asked him to be on the committee representing the on-the-ground people in the Foundation."
The bald, dark man rose and offered his hand, which Harley shook with a smile. The other man, also black but much older, rose, "This is Lucius Fox," Wayne said, "Manager of Wayne Enterprises. He'll be helping with the business and financial side of things."
"Pleased to meet you," said Fox in his distinguished voice.
"I think you know the other two," Wayne said, "our secretary today is Arnold Wesker."
Harley's eyes went wide as the former Ventriloquist looked up with a polite smile.
"Hey! How're ya doing Ven – er, I mean Arnie?"
Wesker's smile became slightly strained, "I'm well, thank you, Harley."
"And this," Wayne, ever the gentleman, extended his hand to bring the well-dressed lady to her feet, "is Ms. Selina Kyle. She's advising on how to reach our audiences for the benefit."
Harley's jaw dropped as the statuesque woman in the silk business suit stood up and smiled. Harley had always had more of an eye for female beauty than her fellows. Poison Ivy had a kind of otherworldly, mother-goddess aura that had always drawn her. Catwoman, or Ms. Selina Kyle at the moment, had a more Classical, high-society glamour to her, a grace that could only be called 'cat-like.'
Kyle extended a hand in her turn to Harley, "I'm so pleased to see you, Harleen. You look wonderful! That's a Gerstein and Rose tailoring job or I've never seen one."
Harley grinned while shaking Kyle's hand, "You bet! They know their stuff, that's for sure."
"So, everyone, this is Harleen Quinzel. She'll be deputizing for me as Artistic Director on the committee." Harley was taken aback. She hadn't really thought much about whom she was deputy to!
"Well," Wayne went on, "Let's have a seat. I've sent for coffee. This will be a preliminary meeting, a brainstorming session, you might say. Lucius, would you begin?"
They sat down. Harley felt like she'd sink into the richly upholstered chair.
"The Wayne Foundation's been doing a major Christmas Benefit since its inception," Lucius began, "and it's always met expectations, and become a fixture in the Gotham social round."
"The operative phrase being 'meets expectations,'" Wayne added.
"We feel like we've been getting too comfortable. Mr. Riley?"
Riley picked up where Fox had left off, "I work at the street level in the Wayne Foundation. People feel like there's a condescension in the way the Benefit runs. Rich people giving handouts to poor people they never see. And, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne, the kind of people who come out to the Benefit today are the 'old money' crowd, listening to music that their crowd listens to."
Wayne nodded graciously and said, "You're both absolutely right. There's a lot more we could be doing. We need a new approach. That's why I've brought you all together as a group of people of different backgrounds and experience to look for a fresh perspective on the event."
"But at the same time," Selina interjected, "make sure we can meet or exceed our targets. We don't just want the usual stuffy rich crowd like Bruce and me," this got an appreciative chuckle from around the table, and Harley grinned more easily than before, "We want to attract a more diverse demographic, make this Benefit bigger and more appealing. But we need to do that without diluting its attractions and reducing our success."
"Given the sheer number of concerns that the Wayne Foundation deals with, finding a uniting theme for the Benefit has been the hard part. We've always given it a theme, but, frankly, we're running out of ideas."
"On top of that," Kyle added, "there's the matter of security."
Harley thought, reluctantly, back, to the time she helped crash the party at the Christmas Benefit. It had been an old-style masquerade ball, with an orchestra playing something she was fairly sure was Mozart. There was almost nobody there under forty and few enough under fifty. Usually Wayne, Veronica Vreeland and sometimes Selina Kyle were the only ones. Gotham's select young jet-setters and playboys were the minority. One of them had hit on a disguised Harley and it had been the head trauma she'd visited on him that had initiated the stick-up.
It had gone well; the gang had gotten in because even the caterers were in masks. Faking the invitations had been trivial, and it would have gone off without a hitch except that the freakin' Batman had appeared almost immediately.
"Yeah," she said, "Security. You never know who might try something."
"So what I'd like," said Wayne, "is to consider that, but first of all, let's talk about what we're going to be protecting."
The coffee carafe arrived and they began the brainstorming session. Harley learned the trend was to have a big dance ball and bring in the best talent to perform there. They'd even gotten Artie Shaw a few times in the early years.
Riley was suggesting that they approach popular artists like Cassidy, but Selina argued that the highest rollers would be lost. She suggested a charity casino, but Riley and Wayne were against it.
"Besides," Harley pointed out, "There's too much cash in a casino. The crooks in town would be on it like vultures."
"Too right," said Fox, "The glitz will draw the wrong crowd."
Harley sat, taking this all in, and she felt a cold sweat breaking out. Her mind was a total blank. These people had moved in the right circles for this sort of thing. Her experience involved screaming, gunplay, big sacks held up in front of terrified partygoers, and gases that inflicted dreadful rictus grins. Those old stiffs, if they just knew how to have a little fun, then this wouldn't be a problem! They needed a laugh so badly, is it any wonder that he had put a smile on their…"
"Excuse me," she said suddenly, jumping to her feet, "I need to, er, er, use the lady's room!"
"It's just down the hall on your right," said Fox, taken aback.
Harley fairly flew there.
A couple of minutes passed where she simply leaned over the sink. Then she took a deep breath, ran some cold water and patted it on her face.
"That was a pretty strong coffee blend, wasn't it," said a sardonic voice.
Harley was so wound up she nearly screamed. She looked up and saw Selina Kyle standing by the door, her arm propped on the hand dryer, her face bearing a commiserating expression.
"Whiskers!" Harley said, turning to look at her properly, "I…" She hesitated. As Catwoman, Selina had allied with her and Ivy now and again, and they'd enjoyed a friendly rivalry over heists. But in this setting, could her criminal past guide her much?
"Harley, what's the matter?" The question brooked no deflection, but Harley tried to put on a brave face, like always, "I'm just a little nervous. First day jitters, y'know?"
"Of course," said Selina, her sardonic expression unmoved. "Well, I hope you say something soon. We can't continue talking past one another all day long. I was hoping somebody might find some common ground in all of this."
Harley raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "What're you doing here anyway, Whiskers? You planning to knock over the Benefit or something?"
Selina actually looked shocked, "What? No! I've had to go mainstream like you."
"Uh-huh," Harley managed to find a sceptical smile.
"Don't get me wrong," Selina said, raising her hand, "there will be some A-grade jewellery on display, whatever we come up with. But the Wayne Foundation funds community gardens, job assistance and shelters all over the city. Why would I want to steal from that?"
Harley was abashed, "Sorry, Selina."
She shrugged, "Fair enough. Bruce has done us both a good turn by offering us this chance to get some traction in the real world."
Harley nodded, and said, "Well, we'd better get back in there."
Afterword: Fans of Batman: TAS may remember Dan Riley's character from the episode "the Forgotten" which ended with Riley helping Bruce and being offered a fresh start at his company.
You can find the music of Artie Shaw easily enough. His signature tune 'Begin the Beguine' will be making an appearance later on.