Barbara spent her week busy with work, but her thoughts kept slipping back to the black and red card which she had pinned above her desk at home. When they got back to the Batcave, Bruce had put it through a number of tests to determine if it had been poisoned or had a tracer, but nothing came up. She didn't need to keep it. The phone number had been imprinted into her memory from the moment she saw it, but it seemed rude to just toss it away when Harley had gone to so much trouble to give it to her.

It was Friday and six days since she drank milk locked in a safe room with the psychopath Harley Quinn. Several times she had picked up her phone and punched the numerals in, but when it came to pressing call she hadn't had the guts to do it. She kept hearing Batman's voice in her head and it was driving her nuts. Anyone would be crazy to actually choose to meet with the villain and this went doubly so for her. But she made a promise and there was a part of her that was fearlessly curious about what Harley would think of this time.

Barbara was waiting at a bus stop having finished work at the library when her eyes fell on a public phone booth just across the road. The light above it blinked from the bad wiring and she felt drawn to it. Her bus wasn't due for at least ten minutes, and the pulsing florescence was calling her over. She couldn't do it, could she? She'd have to be mad. But what if Harley did shoot her dad? She doubted that would come to pass, but did she really want to risk it?

Before she could change her mind again she rushed across the road and dropped fifty cents into the slot. She dialed and there was the sound of a phone ringing on the end of the line. Barbara held her breath and was about to hang up when there was an answer.

"Harley Quinn's phone, how may I direct your call?"

She hesitated with the realization that she had just phoned a psychopath. "Um… Hi, Harley." She squeaked.

"BB!" Harley shrieked, "I'm so glad you called. I thought you weren't and I was just thinking 'should I actually shoot Gordie or should I wait?' and you called. I'm so happy!"

"I'm glad you're glad," Barbara replied nervously.

"I am so, so excited. I know exactly where we're going to go tomorrow. You and me. It'll be a riot. Hang on, I'll get the deets."

There was silence for a minute and Barbara considered hanging up. What if Harley was tracing the call and was going to find her?

"Okie-dokes, I'm back. We're going dancing. It'll be great."

"Dancing?"

"Yep. Meet me at the police station at ten thirty and we'll go from there. Okay?"

"Dancing?" Barbara repeated.

"Yeah dancing. Y'know, with your feet? When you move them? Think of it as sparing without hitting the other person."

"I know what dancing is, Harl, but…"

There was a beeping and a mechanical voice alerted Barbara that she had thirty seconds left.

"Harley, I have to go, but-"

"The police station roof at ten thirty. Tomorrow. Bye, BB. Bye!" Harley's excited squeal was the last thing Barbara heard before the phone cut out.

"Dancing?"

As soon as she got home, Barbara phoned Bruce to relate the strange call to him. He wasn't happy that she contacted Harley, or that she was seriously planning to go, but he knew he couldn't stop her. Instead of fighting it he offered to watch them at the police station and that he would stay available in case Barbara needed backup throughout the night. She'd keep her radio on so she could contact him. She felt safe knowing that Bruce was going to be there to keep an eye on her, even though she knew she could handle Harley Quinn on her own.