A/N: Dr. Thomas Elliot is based on the likeness of actor Peter Facinelli. Oswald Cobblepot is based on the likeness of Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Harleen Quinzel sat on the edge of her bed, swinging her legs and growing more impatient by the minute. Judith sat on a chair beside her and sighed.
"I guess it's true what they say about doctors making the worst patients," she said and Harleen shot her a look.
"I'm fine, thanks," Harleen snapped and crossed her arms. She wanted to get out of this gown, this bed and home where she could lock her doors and windows and pretend that she hadn't made the worst mistake in her life the day before.
Judith pulled out her cell phone and sent a text message before looking back at her sister.
"I'm sure that will take mom half an hour to figure out," Judith chuckled. She had sent their mother downstairs to wait for Harleen and get the car when they were ready to go. Detective Nashton hadn't been happy about the idea, but they were all a little tired of being in the presence of law enforcement. Plus, Harleen had the creeping suspicion that Nashton could read minds as he had been picking apart everything she said for the past day. He said he liked puzzles, but Harleen did not want him to find the solution to this one.
"Shouldn't you be out looking for the Joker, or that Riddler guy?" Harleen had asked. He had tapped his cane a few times in thought and looked at her.
"Riddler you say?" He said absently.
Someone at GPD had leaked the mysterious note sent to law enforcement prior to the Joker's hearing and the press was having a field day with it. It was as if they were excited about having another named villain loose in the city. The whole business made Harleen queasy, especially since she had been the one who had unleashed the Joker.
What in God's name had she been thinking? She had given him the upper hand over the police and herself. One slip of the tongue and her career was over and she would be facing a very long prison sentence.
"Doctor Quinzel, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I'm Doctor Elliot," the young man said as he entered the room. Harleen had started and then smiled at the somewhat familiar face. He was handsome and tall with blue eyes and short dark brown hair.
He looked over her chart and did a preliminary check of her vitals. Once the spots had cleared from her eyes from his light, she realized where she had seen his face before.
"Has anyone told you that you look like Bruce Wayne?" She asked, feeling a little silly. He smiled at that.
"Actually, Bruce Wayne is a very good friend of mine," he replied and patted her on the shoulder. "It looks like you are good to go, Doctor Quinzel."
"Harley," she said. He frowned and she smiled. "Call me Harley, everyone else does."
"Alright then, Harley, I'll have the nurse bring in your prescriptions with your discharge paperwork. It was nice to meet you," he said, gently squeezing her upper arm and smiling kindly.
"About time," Harleen whispered once he'd left the room and then looked at her sister's peeved expression. "What?"
"What is it with all the cute professionals flirting with you?" Judith asked shaking her head. Harleen looked around.
"If you remember, the Joker did kiss me. I think Karma is trying to make that up to me," Harleen said in a hushed voice. The sisters laughed.
Harleen changed into the clothes Judith brought her. She slipped on the gauze blouse accented with hand sewn vines and flowers and jeans with red and black diamonds embroidered on them before pulling on a tan sweater jacket. Harleen scrutinized herself in the mirror and raised an eyebrow at her sister who shrugged.
"I'm hoping to inspire a change in the dress code at Arkham," Judith smiled while she pulled on her own jacket and grabbing her purse.
The nurse came ten minutes later and the sisters were beyond ready to leave. Judith looked at the weird text message their mother had sent to her and looked at Harleen.
"So, which one of us is going to piss her off when we tell her she has to hang with me before she gets on the train this afternoon?" Judith made a face. Harleen dropped her head and Judith grabbed her arm.
"It's okay Harl, you've had more than enough time around people and need some time for yourself. Besides, I'm good at pissing off our folks." Judith grabbed the wheelchair an orderly brought in and Harleen climbed into it. Judith tilted her head at the orderly and gave him a wry grin.
"Excuse me, I want to drive," she said.
Oswald Cobblepot strode into his new establishment, "The Iceberg Lounge." He'd wanted to make the place a classier joint than his last business which had become more of a fraternal order of mobsters who gathered there for their meetings. All it had taken was a sizable insurance policy and a match lit by a loose cannon disguised as a clown to get him his new place.
Oswald walked over to a light fixture and examined its crystalline form through his monocle. He spied a mirror behind it, running the length of the bar and observed himself within it. Stocky, overweight and with thinning blonde hair, he wasn't the most attractive man in Gotham. But money talks and it isn't always trashy women who answer.
He looked along the bar and saw a man hunched over at the other end, cigarette smoke drifting up from an ashtray in front of him and a whiskey glass in his hand. Oswald cleared his throat and approached the man.
"Excuse me, we are not open for business," Oswald said in a pinched voice. That along with his laugh had earned him a rather undesirable nickname.
"You're always open for me, Penguin," the man replied quietly, setting down his glass and taking a drag from his cigarette. Cobblepot made a face and was reaching out to grab the blonde man's shoulder when he suddenly turned toward him. Cobblepot stopped with his hand still in the air.
"Joker?" He asked, his brows raised with surprise. The other man shrugged and dropped his cigarette into the half-finished drink.
"Looks like I'm gonna need another one, Oswald," Joker half-grinned. Cobblepot was at a loss as he'd never seen the man bare-faced in person before. Joker nodded toward the main seating area.
"Nice place, what, cat got your tongue?" Joker said tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.
"You, I just didn't recognize you at first," Cobblepot sputtered and Joker laughed in the way that only he could while shaking his head.
"Yeah, that. Well, everyone's running around looking for some guy dressed like a clown and I've always been pretty good at hiding in plain sight. Besides, that stuff is bad for your skin," Joker chuckled. "I, uh, am still gonna need that drink, Oswald and I need you to talk to your staffing department."
Judith parked her car behind the two-story brick building where she both lived and worked. She and her mother headed up the stairs of the back stoop and Judith unlocked the back door and entered. She closed her eyes and took in the smell of fabric and smiled while her mother headed to the storefront. Judith opened her eyes and followed, walking to the front door to unlock it and turn the card from "Closed" to "Open."
She turned to find her mother digging through the rack of wedding gowns and Judith's heart sank when she pulled one out and held it out to her disapprovingly.
"This is Harleen's," her mother said, her voice still carrying the undercurrent of anger. "How could you sell it?"
"She told me to," Judith mused.
"Well that's not going to happen," her mother snapped and carried the dress to the back room.
She made a beeline to the rack where Judith kept clothing she made for family. Her mother shoved the rest of the bagged clothes to the side and hung the dress on the rack and carefully smoothed it. Judith saw the sadness on her mother's face and approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder turning the woman to face her and then embraced her.
"Harleen will meet someone and she's going to need that dress," her mother said, her voice shaking.
"I know mom," Judith said rubbing her mother's back and feeling ill about the man who had sent Harleen flowers the day before. She had a feeling that union wouldn't be a white wedding.
"Are you okay, mom?" Judith asked pulling away. Her mother nodded and Judith squeezed her arm.
"I have something I need to finish for a client; can you mind the store for a bit?" Judith asked. Her mother's brow knitted and she looked at Judith suspiciously.
"Can't you do that down here?" She asked and Judith averted her gaze.
"It's a special order that has been in storage for a while. I need to check it out and make sure that it hasn't been damaged," Judith replied.
"Well that's why you always use moth balls!" Her mother planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Okay, but you need to come down if someone has a credit card."
Judith nodded and bounded up the stairs, glancing through a few of the risers where you could see inside the front room and the two changing stalls, the stairs creaking underfoot. She had been meaning to get them replaced. She reached her spare room and felt a stone drop in her stomach as she reached the wardrobe. She turned the knob and pulled the large black bag from its place and carried it over to the empty rack and hung it up. From the wardrobe she withdrew another bag, smaller but wider and hung that up as well.
She drew a breath and felt dizzy as she unzipped the large bag and spread it open, revealing a long, royal purple coat. She pulled it from the bag and hung it by its own hanger and inspected the garment. The burnt orange lining and seams were flawless. The pockets lining the inside matched the carefully drawn diagram her client had given her. She took the lapels in each hand and ran her fingers down the length of them, relishing the touch of the fabric. She inspected one of the sleeves and touched the five buttons at the end where the sleeves flared out. It was a beautiful piece, like the first one and she hated that she would have to relinquish it to a man who would hold as little regard to it as the lives he would take while wearing it.
She had kept this secret for far too long, but what could she say? A man named Joseph Kerr came into her shop one day and requested a very specific garment. He had paid in cash and had left no contact information. The fact that the name he gave was a play on the name Joker would not have benefited anyone.
She had debated calling the Police after he had escaped from the hospital and they could have staked out her shop, waiting for him. But she had a feeling that would have ended badly for everyone involved. He had killed an entire crew he robbed a bank with; he certainly would make short work of a seamstress and a couple of cops. And that was supposing that they even believed her story. After this long they would probably see her as a crackpot with a creative touch who whipped up this garment based on pictures she found on the internet.
The worst part had been not being able to tell Harleen about any of it. After what the Joker had done to her, Judith felt like she had betrayed her sister in a deep, fundamental way. She could never tell her the truth; it would be the end of their relationship and tear their family apart.
Judith ran to her toilet and began throwing up.
Harleen snuffed out her cigarette before drawing another from the pack and lighting it. She'd been home for hours and her seclusion began in the midst of a guilt trip that only a Jewish mother could give. She had sat down on her couch and dumped the contents of her purse onto the coffee table.
The same way he had.
From the crap she for some reason deemed essential enough to endlessly tote around with her she had pulled her cigarette pack and lighter and had commenced smoking. She was now down to her last one which meant she was about to have to make some decisions.
Would she shower now for the first time in days? Hospitals weren't known for such amenities for patients. She scratched her greasy hair and wondered if Doctor Elliot hadn't been so much flirting with her as pitying her for her drab, sad appearance.
Would she just walk down to the corner store as she was, or call upon a neighbor to borrow some more cigarettes?
She hadn't bothered turning on the television, she didn't want to know what they were saying. The best she could hope for was that Joker hadn't already done something horrendous.
Shot up a bank as he robbed it.
Blown up another city building.
Taken an elementary school hostage for another "social experiment."
She hoped it would take him more time to get organized than this. Perhaps his heart would give out on him before he had the chance.
Harleen wiped fresh tears from her cheeks with the hand not holding her last cigarette. A knock sounded on her front door and she looked at it with suspicion.
Was he that brazen?
After another series of knocks, Harleen rose and looked through the peep hole and felt unease pull her stomach tight. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door as wide as the chain would allow.
"Yes?" She asked her former fiancée harshly with narrowed eyes. She took a drag from her cigarette and tilted her head back blew the smoke up in the air.
"Harley," he said and then just stared at her. The features she had once found wildly attractive now seemed bland, uninteresting. He was just another guy; and one who cheated on his women to boot.
"Does Caitlyn know you're here?" She asked tilting her head to the side. He shook his head no. Harleen rolled her eyes.
"God Harley, you're a mess," he said mournfully. She took a breath and knew he was referencing her gallery of bruises from the past few weeks and lack of hygiene from her hospital stay. But there was more to it than that and she knew it.
"Do you have any cigarettes?" She asked. He blinked, confused and then shook his head.
"I wanted to see how you are…" his voice drifted away with his statement.
"I'm great; have a lot going for me. I have a new man in my life and let me tell you, he's a real killer." She said and then began laughing, smiling and would have clapped him on the shoulder if the chain would have allowed it. Brian looked profoundly confused.
"Harley…" he began but she cut him off.
"You have more than worn out your welcome with me Brian. Go home to your wife or new girlfriend or whoever. And make sure that you keep an eye over your shoulder 'cause my guy? He's the jealous type." She grinned and slammed the door in his face.
"Harley!" He called through the door as she locked it.
She waltzed to the bathroom and plugged the tub drain before opening both taps fully. She put out her cigarette and began stripping off her clothes.
She drizzled in some bath salts before padding back to the kitchen. The front window was open and the lights were on, but she didn't care if anyone was watching. She still had a nice body and it had been a long time since anyone had seen it beside herself.
She poured wine from a box in the refrigerator into a jelly glass and headed back to her bathroom. She closed the taps and took a drink before stepping into the bathtub and submerged her body in the water. She took two handfuls of water and poured them over her hair and took another drink from her glass.
She laid her head back against the cool tile and stared blankly at the dripping faucet. A serene smile made its way across her lips. She didn't close her eyes as she slipped wholly beneath the surface.
A/N: Thomas Elliot first appeared in "Batman #609." Oswald Cobblepot first appeared in "Detective Comics #58."
Thank you for your continued readership and reviews. This is the first part of a monster chapter.
I recently broke several ribs and writing is still a little uncomfortable. It's called "Method Writing."