Harley spent the whole day of the twenty-third of December in a state of quivering anxiety. Where she'd managed to dance happily past carolers and Salvation Army bands, she walked stiffly through the snowy streets.
She met Selina outside the halfway house, Selina was waiting by her Jag with a kind smile. Maven was also there, looking curious.
"It's the big day," she said.
"Sure is," Harley said feebly.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You said on the phone that you needed both of us," Selina remarked.
"Yeah," she looked at Maven, "I was wondering if you could run an errand for me. It'll probably take most of the afternoon. And," she looked at Selina, abashed, "I need to borrow some money. Er, kind of a lot."
"How much?" Selina asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Seven hundred," Harley said quickly, "But I should be able to pay it back after New Year's!"
Selina laughed, "Harley, do you even realize how rich I am?"
Harley smiled, "Thanks." She turned to Maven, who said, "At your service, Ms. Quinzell."
"Maven, I need you to go to Gerstein and Rose. There's a dress there, a green evening gown. Tell Gerstein to adjust it for…" she rattled off the measurements as Maven jotted them down on her PDA. Then Harley gave Maven a card-sized envelope. They piled into the car and headed into town.
The great hall of the Centre was transformed. It took Harley's breath away to see. The walls were festooned with red ribbon, golden tinsel and wreaths. A dozen huge trees sparkled and shone with decorations. Buffet tables stood empty down either side of the room and small round tables were scattered around, leaving a nice big space around the stage for the band to set up.
"The band's already here, they'll just be getting dressed now," Lucius Fox said, meeting them. "Have you ladies seen Bruce today?"
"First thing this morning," Selina said, "He said he might be a little late."
Lucius sighed, "Probably taking a date out to dinner first."
"Not if he knows what's good for him," Selina's smile was wicked.
Harley went backstage and found her way into the green room. Funny, she thought, how they call it a green room but they're never green.
All three bands were there, and rose enthusiastically to greet Harley.
"Looks great out there, Harleen," Jerry Black said, beaming.
"And the sound system is simply divine," Natalia enthused.
"Great," said Harley, "This is going to be great."
She excused herself to go freshen up. She found her way to the staff ladies' and met up with Selina, who had just pulled the hood up on her Catwoman costume.
"Do they suspect anything?" Catwoman asked as Harley retreated into a stall to change.
"Don't think so," she said, "Hopefully they'll stay safe until this is over."
"Let's hope."
The two of them, costumed up, slipped behind the decorative curtaining around the hall and moved unnoticed as the floor staff were setting up.
"Okay," Catwoman said, "I can get on the roof and keep lookout, but you're going to have to go out into the cold, so to speak."
Harley nodded, heart in her throat as they made there way back into the rear hallways.
Catwoman disappeared up a side stairway and Harley headed for the loading bay.
Where she stopped dead in her tracks as the Joker, handing his hat and coat off to a goon, strode in wearing a broad grin and, more unusually, big Jack Nicholson-esque sunglasses.
"Ah, show-biz," he sighed, spreading his arms as if to embrace the slightly untidy loading bay.
"H-hey, Mister J," Harley said, shocked.
"Ah!" Joker advanced, "Harley, just who I wanted to see!"
"Funny," she said tremulously, "I was just coming to see you!"
"No," Joker cooed, "I need you here, Harl."
"I thought the plan was to bust in when everybody got here!"
"The plan is for the gang to bust in," Joker agreed, "But we must get ready for a grand entrance!"
Harley snapped her fingers, "Aha! Swell, Mr. J!"
She grabbed him by the hand and led him out onto the main stage. Joker spread his arms again and looked down on the open space, laid out with red carpeting and matching ribbons, wreaths and garlands festooning the walls.
There was a scream from the green room. Joker's goons had come in behind him and were now herding the musicians out onto the stage.
Harley looked around and locked eyes with Jerry Black. His expression was horrified but also disappointed and confused as he looked at her.
"Harley…" he started to say, but Harley put a finger to her lips.
The Joker, looking now from face to terrfied face of the floor steup staff said, "Enough standing around, you slackers! We have a party to prepare! Ahahahahaaa!"
Harley looked around, dry-mouthed as the goons – four of them in total, herded the musicians to their respective instruments. Natalia looked ready to faint as she picked up her tambourine.
Harley was startled to realize that Joker had turned to her, and stood, bowing, with his hand outstretched. Harley opened her mouth in surprise, and then smiled, took his hand, and jumped off the stage onto the dancefloor with him.
"Play on, play on!" Joker called carelessly to the musicians.
Jumping with alarm, Natalia looked frantically around. Jerry Black, used by now to working in dens of the criminal element, cracked his shaking knuckles and struck up a light dance tune.
Joker whirled Harley around and she was dancing with him. He looked, she was surprised to note, genuinely happy. His smile wasn't one of devious glee or defiance, just of contentment.
She'd forgotten how vivid an image he presented. Bright, colourful, full of lively energy. He was also a fantastic dancer. For a moment, Harley felt herself floating, free…
There was a commotion at the door and Harley glanced over to see the caterers entering, with a fleet of trolleys laden with enormous covered dishes.
"Aha!" Joker cried, exultant, "Here's our dainties for the evening! Come on in, Clyde!
A big man in a heavy coat and muffler saluted the Joker and started directing traffic to the big serving tables.
"Let's have a look, shall we," said Joker, hooking arms with Harley and leading her over to where a big covered dish was being moved into a table.
"Watcha got under there, Mr. J?" Harley squeaked.
"A fillet of Tommy gun with hollow-point garnishing," Joker said in an affected snobby voice. A man in caterer's uniform had just placed it and Joker tapped the white-haired man on the shoulder.
"Budge up, old-timer," said Joker cheerfully.
The man turned, and Harley gasped as Commissioner Gordon raised his service revolver to level with the Joker's nose. "Who you calling an old-timer?"
Harley looked at the shocked expression on Mr – on the Joker's face. Quick as a wink, she reached into his coat, grabbed his revolver, and stepped back, pointing it at the back of his head.
At the same time, all the catering staff burst into sudden motion. All of them turned to the stage or the Joker or to the bundled-up Clyde, guns in their right hands, badges in their left. Harley distinctly heard Renee Montoya shout, "Police! On the stage, weapons down, now!"
Joker turned slowly, looking stricken in Harley's direction. "Harley? Baby!"
"Don't 'baby' me, puddin.'" Her hands shook but she kept her aim. "People used to say I was stuck in a pattern with you. I guess we were stuck together, 'cause you actually still thought I was on your side!"
Joker stared, pop-eyed, then burst into a fit of cackling, "So, you got cold feet, Harley-girl? Let's toast them. Rocco, waste her!"
The goons on the stage took aim, then there was a loud crack and Rocco dropped his gun, trying to staunch the blood running down his face, before Catwoman landed on him, planting her knee on his throat.
The other goon, distracted, was blindsided by Jerry Black's guitarist – a big man in his own right – who struck him round the head with one of his guitars. The man staggered forward and two disguised cops rushed him.
Joker looked at this, and then turned back, snarling to Harley. "You put on the costume, and I can tell them all about how you gave me every scrap of info I needed to bust this place! They'll send us both back to Arkham, and when I get you alone I'll…"
"That's funny," said Gordon, grabbing Joker's arm and pulling it behind his back, "I was going to say the same thing. Ms. Quinn showed astonishing courage and fortitude to serve as our double-agent."
"Harley?" Joker's jaw dropped. Harley, lowering the gun slowly, raised her chin defiantly at him.
Then she started to quake as the expression of amazement turned into one of hate and fury. The real, true Joker, the one that had put her in the hospital so many times…the one that kept coming back, that she kept going back to…
Joker snarled, elbowing Gordon hard in the gut, throwing his balance. Harley squealed, raised the gun and fired.
Bang. Some sparks and smoke spat out of the barrel…and a little pole with a flag hanging off it, with 'bang' on it in big, zany letters.
Harley's blood turned to ice. Her throat closed up as Joker's smile returned to his mouth, though no other part of his face smiled with it. He flicked his wrist and a pocket revolver dropped out of his sleeve and swung up between Harley's eyes. Harley sputtered in fear, partly because she was strangling to urge to beg and plead. Ultimately only one word got out. "Red."
Zing. Harley nearly fainted when she heard the bang, but it came just after a jagged shape flashed in front of her vision and knocked into Joker's arm. The gun clattered across the floor.
Harley was on the Joker in an instant. She high-kicked him in the chest, throwing him back over the table. She grabbed the the big serving platter, which was empty of Tommy guns or anything else, and the lid clanged on the floor as she descending on the Joker, years of fear and exploitation channeled into smashing the heavy silver tray down onto that horrible false face, every blow punctuated with a scream. "That's!" clang "Not!" clang "Funny!"