It's not fun and games anymore.
With Batman out of commission, Harley Quinn and Nightwing stepped up to the plate, ready to jump into the field. Anything to take their mind off of their daughter. It was fun, playing in the dark, pretending it was like it had been before.
Until the case began to hit a little close to home. Investigating the murder of the head nurse who helped deliver Haly, they're thrown back into their dark and unforgiving lives once again.
"Two gunshots to the chest," Harley read off the file as they walked up to the small house. "She would have bled out, so under the bridge in the homeless camp where they found her wasn't where she was killed… obviously," she muttered, flipping through the pages again. "Still in her scrubs, didn't show up for work." She was repeating all of this, having read the file before they got on the motorcycle. "I just don't get it," she glanced up at Nightwing as the stopped outside of Nurse Martinez's front door, "why was she killed and dumped? What did she ever do?"
"I don't know. I'd say muggings happen all the time, but nothing was stolen, and I'd say that the fact that it's her was a coincidence, but Batman would backhand me. So we're just back to: what's the motive?" Nightwing pondered quietly, looking up at the sky, heavy with clouds. "You don't think…" He cleared his throat. "You think this is where she was killed?" He looked up at the small house. Harley looked up at the house.
"I don't know." She shrugged. "No one's been in yet. Officers on the case can't get a warrant to search it until morning, so we're going to be the first." She glanced back at the file. "They did try to get ahold of her brother, he lives here too," she glanced back up, "nothing."
"Alright, well, breaking and entering it is," Nightwing smiled, kneeling by the door and picking the lock.
"And I thought I was the criminal," Harley teased.
"Hey, when I was in the circus, I always wanted to be a magician," he grinned as the lock popped open. "Right next to Charles Blondin, Harry Houdini was my inspiration." Nightwing stood, opening the door for her. "Where do you think I got my showmanship?"
"I thought that was all you." Harley smirked, walking into the dark house.
"Alright, time for the detective work." He looked around. "It's freezing in here…" Harley flicked the lights on, glancing at him.
"There is snow outside, and you're complaining about it being cold in here?"
"I know. Have you ever lived someplace that's the temperature of this building?" he looked around as he scanned the area. "I did. One time, I had this really really awful landlord, and I mean, in Gotham that's not hard to come by, but I mean- she was a cheap. Skate. And me and the other-"
"-I get it," Harley cut him off. "No smart person would be living like this." She walked through to the dining room. "So far no grisly murder scene."
"Not much of anything actually," Nightwing followed her through the house. "Wait a second- closed pocket doors, always a good sign-" he grinned over his shoulder as he pulled the doors open and stepped into the dark room. "Whoa… shit, amateur hacker alert," he breathed. The far wall was lined with three large computer screens, the neatly organized desks covered in a thin layer of dust. Nightwing leaned down, examining the wide range of technology.
"Nurse Martinez doesn't strike me as the tech savvy sort. Or a gamer," Harley added. "Did the file say what her brother did for a living? I bet this is his." She ran her finger through the layer of dust. "The rest of the house is clean. So where is the brother?" She glanced around the room before at Nightwing. "Which do you want? The computer or the rest of the house?"
"The computer," Nightwing carefully opened a drawer, pulling out an ID card. "I think brother is a safe guess. Wayne Tech IT identification card… The dust has been here for at least a week. But Martinez has only been dead for about twenty-four hours. Makes sense, older brother- younger sister- 'don't touch my stuff'... He must have been gone for a while, but she isn't going to touch his stuff, even if he would die if he saw the state of the dust- no tech-respecting human being would ever let dust settle like this on equipment this expensive- especially not him, look at this desk, he's got to have OCD. If not… well then he's really meticulous, look his pens are labeled-" Nightwing glanced over his shoulder, just realizing that Harley had left the room. He frowned. "That's not very nice!" he called.
"Just let me know if you can't figure out how to work the mouse!" Harley yelled back. "I know you've probably forgotten how to work a computer with me around."
"Oh please!" Nightwing called back, laughing. He turned the system on, and she heard him laugh. "I've been around, but this is a gorgeous set up," he giggled, covering his mouth. "This could rival the Batcave."
"Turn the computer on, not yourself!" she laughed from somewhere in the house. Nightwing glanced over his shoulder, and then turned back to the screens.
"I can't promise anything," he called. "Just in case you want to take advantage of that…" he examined the desk. "Okay, password," he muttered, looking around.
"Are you in yet?" Harley called, her voice swelling as she walked between rooms. Nightwing's fingers paused over the keys, and he laughed.
"Damn it, Harles, you're killing me here," he shouted back, pulling out his minicomputer and running a decryption.
"I'm just saying; you've lost your touch," her voice was more muffled.
"Okay, with you around, I apparently can't focus to work a computer, you win," he laughed as the decryption finished and filled in the password. He clapped. "Alright, we're in." Harley walked back into the room looking at a file.
"I found these in her room." She held up a piece of paper. "An unfiled missing person report on her brother," she glanced at it again, "dated December twelfth. And a hospital medical file."
"Okay. The medical file, what is it?" he asked, scanning the computer quickly with his minicomputer. Nightwing frowned a bit.
"A... ," Harley skimmed the content, "a Jane Doe baby. Abandoned at the hospital- December twenty-second. Died. The same day. She was premature." She glanced up at Nightwing. "Why is this here?"
"No idea." His voice was quiet, and he looked down, fighting the emptiness creeping at his heart again. "Um… hey. Well you're a bright shiny penny that doesn't belong, aren't you? I think I've got something here. Some heavy security… Might take me a minute to break through." Harley set the file down, looking over his shoulder as he worked.
"Dang," she muttered, "he is good at what he does."
"Yeah, this is really complex," Nightwing breathed, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Stop it you're distracting me again," he smirked.
"I haven't done anything!" Harley defended.
"Yeah well, your outfit isn't helping," he grinned, leaning back in the chair. "I said this was gonna take a minute, and you're hovering over me with those damn cute pigtails in my face."
"What are we? Young lovers?" She nudged him. "Oh wait." She giggled before stopping. "No wait. I've seen this somewhere." She studied the screen.
"Seen what, this situation or the-" Nightwing sat up, looking at the screen. "Yeah… yeah you should have seen this before."
"What? I don't remember it." She glanced back at him.
"It's… the Batcave. I mean, it's the coding from the Batcave. The one that was stopping the trace- do you remember the tracer I put on the Joker about a little over a week ago? This… this is what's been jamming the signal," he breathed, leaning forward. "Okay. I'll just…" Nightwing began typing something out on the keyboard.
"This… he has been blocking the signal? What the hell is going on here?" she breathed. Nightwing shook his head, biting his lip.
"I have… no idea." His eyes narrowed behind his mask, and he pressed enter. "The tracer is still online."
"Did you reactivate it?"
"Yeah. I stopped the program that was jamming the signal. We should be able to follow it right to him, whether he has it or not, we don't know, but… it's reactivated, yeah." He ran his hands through his hair.
"He kept it for a reason. It has to be somewhere important, somewhere he doesn't want us to be yet." She looked at the screens. "I linked your computer to the frequency for when he did activate it, so we should be able to see-" she paused when she saw the location the tracker was signaling from. "That's the warehouse I took Batman to. The one Joker pushed me out the window of." Nightwing winced a little bit.
"Of course. Question is, what the hell do the Martinez siblings have to do with it!? I mean, he must have hired her brother because of the tracer, but why didn't he just destroy the tracer in the first place? If he knew it was there, why was it encrypted? Why did he do that? And why would he kill the nurse? Theres so many…" Nightwing sighed. "We might want to call Batman." After a pause, he shook his head. "No. We'll case the area, and then inform them of the tracer. No action." Harley frowned, her brow furrowing.
"Maybe we should let someone know where we're going. This is the Joker. He obviously has a plan that we're stumbling in the middle of, and I don't like the sound of that. I do... I, uh, do know the territory, but maybe we should at least leave a message at the cave."
"Right." Nightwing pressed his comm. "Nightwing to Cave. Harley and I have a lead on a possible location… could be the Joker. Last civilian seen, Commissioner Gordon, last known location: 5054 St. James Street, Midtown Gotham. Destination-" he glanced at the computer- "Downtown Gotham. 246 Caesar Boulevard. The warehouse that Harley was pushed out of. We're headed there now." He deactivated the comm. "Let's go."
Nightwing led the way out of the house and mounted the motorcycle, starting it. Harley hesitated for a moment before reaching into one of her belt pockets. She pulled out her silver acrobat necklace, clasping it around her neck. She pointed threateningly at Nightwing.
"Do not abuse this privilege," she warned, pulling her helmet on and sitting down behind him.
"Yes Ma'am." He smiled and nodded in agreement, tearing down the street in the direction of the tracer.
"It's not 'ma'am'," Harley told him, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. "I'm not married yet."
"You will be. Mrs. Grayson," he grinned over his shoulder at her, the bike leaping forward in a burst of speed.
"I said yet. Now watch the road." She smacked his shoulder. Nightwing smirked and reached over his shoulder, flipping the visor of her mask up before kissing her slowly, keeping his balance expertly shooting down the center line of the road. Harley pushed his face back forward. "You got mad at me last time I 'distracted' you while driving, so focus up."
"It's not hard when it's me in control," he smiled, laughing a little. She felt his abs tighten with the action. "It's only when you catch me off guard that I stumble. No surprises."
"You know I'm full of surprises." She kissed his neck below his hairline. "I'm not sorry about that, but maybe a little about not getting to see you in control more." Her laugh tickled the back of his neck. He smiled, but it faded as they pulled into the street, the dark warehouse looming over them.
"Yeah... No more surprises," he repeated, and she could hear the wary edge in his voice.