Harley felt like she was floating, the world spinning around her as she languished on a purple divan with a green diamond pattern. She'd have loved it if it were only warmer in here…
She'd cast off her jacket and tie and turned her hair back into her beloved pigtails.
They'd driven way across town and were now holed up in the grand main rotunda of the Gotham Exhibition, a storehouse of costumes, rides and toys that went more or less undisturbed until the summer.
But now it was like a command centre crossed with a Halloween haunted house. Men with dark suits and submachine guns flanked each entrance, the effect made more disturbing by the fact that they were both wearing exaggerated sad-faced clown masks.
A handyman-looking guy with an unstable look about him was spreading maps or blueprints or something out on a large table in the middle of a circle of leering, cartoony costumes and statues.
And in the midst, looking over the table like a mad general, the Joker had a parody of a thoughtful frown on his face.
Other than that, the place was surprisingly busy. People came and went, bringing crates and cases of who-knew-what.
"Happy Thanksgiving, puddin,'" Harley sighed, getting uncomfortable with the silence.
Joker stirred himself and switched into an instant thousand-watt grin, "Harley, baby, how're you feeling?"
"Little chilly, Mister J," she said fuzzily, "But I'm walkin' on sunshine!"
"Fabulous," he cried, throwing his arms up in the air. "What do you think of my new-and-improved organization?"
"It's sure big, Mister J!"
"Yes," the Joker said, as if underwhelmed at this assessment, "Well, are you ready for a wild Halloween brouhaha?"
Harley knew her cue when she heard it, because she was a good hench wench, right? She sprang to her feet and exclaimed, "Ready and willing, Mister J!"
The Joker cackled and declared, "Then let's get to it. Places to go, things to see, people to do," he paused, "or something like that anyway." This was said with a gleeful menace that sent thrills up Harley's spine, but she found her grin suddenly required a little more effort to sustain.
The Joker sighed, appearing to have been distracted. "But first, we have some work to do. I just don't know, Harley. Every year, it gets worse. They can't even wait for Halloween to come and go and then they expect everyone to be getting ready for Chrismas!"
"Christmas?" Harley's heart rate sped up.
"Mhm," Joker nodded. "I have to make some arrangements for the festive season, and things aren't going as they should. So we've got to make some business calls."
He suddenly looked at harley with a critical expression. Harley shrank back. "What's the matter, Mister J?"
"Well, as stylish as you are, Harley girl, that getup just does not present the right image for our organization. Have a look in that rack over there."
Harley, trembling and feeling flushed, went to the rock of clown costumes. She dazedly shuffled through the selection, and then found it. At the sound of her gasp, the Joker began to chuckle.
As she shed the drab suit, the chuckle became a giggle of glee that made Harley's spine tingle, but also made her stomach churn.
By the time she'd donned the new outfit, and slathered her face in white greasepaint and black lipstick and eyeliner, she turned to see Mister J laughing loudly, maniacally.
Harley ran her hands up her sides, bringing them to rest on her hips. The sleek fabric hugged her figure, turning her into a willowy shape in red and black. Bells tinkled on her wide jester's collar and double-pointed hat. And she laughed until the tears passed.
And a little later, a dark purple town car roared out of the Exhibition grounds into Gotham. In the wide, luxurious back seats sat the Joker and Harley Quinn, side by side.
Harley wondered if she was drunk on relief, finally leaving that stolid, 'normal' life behind. Joker, one arm around Harley, was staring out the window with a content expression. She definitely felt odd. That floating sensation would be pleasant if she didn't feel so cold. Maybe she'd better break out the holiday version of her outfit, with the thermal fabric and the fur collar…
They were driving down a main street in Little India. Harley hoped they weren't going for dinner. She didn't feel like she could handle spicy food right now.
"Left here, Rocco," Joker said cheerfully.
"Lenny's car's going on ahead, boss," Rocco whined.
"I know, Rocco," said Joker patiently, "I've got him on another errand. Something to test out his chops, you might say."
Then they pulled into a parking spot and Harley looked curiously out of the window, and her eyes widened as she recognized the storefront. It said the Wish Fulfilling Jewel: Vegetarian, Organic and Eastern Cuisine and Catering.
Harley knew this place of old; she used to get takeout here, and once she'd had dinner here with Poison Ivy. And it was also the restaurant she'd put forward to do the catering for the Benefit!
"Recognize this place, Harl," Joker said, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, puddin'. What're we doing here?"
"I have to place catering order," he said. "Wait here, Rocco."
Harley was quietly relieved that they didn't go in the front entrance. Joker and Harley went down the alley and to the back door.
A short hallway led to a stairwell and onward to the kitchen, whence came the smell of a hundred foods and spices.
"Why don't ya wait here, Slugger," said Joker said, "I have to have a meeting."
Harley was anxious at this, "But puddin'-"
"No buts, Harl," Joker said, and his smile became just that little bit forced, "I need you backstage. It's not your cue just yet!"
Harley followed Joker halfway up the stairs, which led to an office door. Joker had handed her her signature pop gun and left her to stand watch.
Joker opened the office door and stepped in. Harley thought she heard a gasp as the door shut. The door was thin wood though so Harley, pressing her hot forehead against the wall, could hear the conversation anyway.
"Jamyang, Jammie baby, how are you?" The Joker, sounding jovial.
"What – what do you want?" The second voice, that of Jamyang Drolma, owner of the restaurant, was tremulous with fear.
"Cheer up, Jammie! I'm here to engage your services for a little event I'm putting together. Something for the yuletide season, on the twenty-third of December?"
"I already told you," Jamyang said, trying, laughably, to sound defiant. "I am already engaged for that date!"
"Aw, that's not a problem, Jammie," Joker cooed, "My party and yours are one and the same! I just need some extra personnel to bring it off right, so if you'll take delivery of, oh, fifty extra guys, who I shall send you, for that night?"
Harley's heart raced. Joker was going to send his own guys in as caterers!
"What? I won't do that! Don't you think I know what you really want? Now get out of here and don't come back or I'll call the cops!"
Now the Joker spoke again, and he wasn't the crooning, buddy-buddy goof anymore. Now his voice was the blood-freezing menace of a monster.
"Jammie, I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. I really can't pull off a good party without you, and I'm prepared to pay handsomely for it, in this…"
Whatever he had shown Jamyang, it gobsmacked him completely. A moment later, Joker emerged with a smug expression and came down the stairs. He handed something to Harley and said, "A token of our appreciation. A new seasoning. Send that to the soup chef for me, Harley-girl!"
It was a gel capsule, the big kind they used to give medication to horses and the like, and was full of an acid green goo.
"Poor Mr. Drolma's just so serious," Joker opined, "Let's put a smile these faces, eh?"
Harley giggled, "Right, Mr. J!"
She loaded it into her pop gun and rattled down the stairs.
The swinging door that led into the kitched had little round windows. Harley eyed a huge pot of soup bubbling on one of the stove elements.
"This should brighten up the vegetables!" Harley said, and she could here her own voice slurring a little as she pushed the door open enough to let her arm through and took aim.
Then Harley shrieked as a steel hook crashed through the door. The cable it was trailing went taut and yanked the door shut on her arm. She gasped in pain and dropped the gun.
She managed to free her arm, and turned as Batman advanced toward her from the back door.
Harley ran at him, ducked his arm and rolled under his cape, staggering to her feet and nearly tripping as she burst out into the back alley. Joker looked round as Batman strode out of the door.
Harley couldn't believe how bad her form had been evading Bats just then. Now with the Dork Knight between her and puddin' she prepared to do a difficult mid-air somersault over him and…
She got maybe two strides into her running start before she threw up.
"Now's not the time, Harley," Joker called, "Scatter, gang! Sorry, Batsy, we'll have to take a raincheck!"
Spitting, her head spinning, Harley tried to focus on the advancing Batman.
"Sorry, pal," she slurred, "we don't serve your kind here!"
Harley executed a flying roundhouse kick that connected with the hated cowl.
Harley landed on one knee, he head swimming more than ever. She gagged, then looked at the crumpled shapes on the ground.
Who would've thought she was strong enough to kick Batsy's head right off? Mister J is going to be…
She passed out.