I resolved to call her up

A thousand times a day

And ask her if she'll marry me

Some old-fashioned way

But my silent fears have gripped me

Long before I reach the phone

Long before my tongue has tripped me

Must I always be alone

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic / The Police

"Nothin' to worry about anymore," she said in a softly melodic way, grinning evilly up at me, head thrown back, baring the pale white column of he throat to what she was unaware was a rabid dog.

J tilted his head, lifting his cigarette to take a long draw, smirking at the 'No Smoking' sign prominently displayed in the roach-infested hotel. Now, what did you mean by that, Doc? J thought to himself. Soon enough he would know, there wasn't a secret in this city he couldn't dig up if he wanted to. And with Johnny on it, he knew he could expect quality results, quickly, and discretely. Something he is only two-thirds capable of on his own. Of course, some secrets were more fun if he didn't know, much like Batman, but Harley…

Harley was different. J still hadn't figured out her place in things yet, but it was clear the moment he saw her that she was a key player. She had it—that look. He knew.

Taking a look into her pedigree only solidified that belief. A contract killer father, a drug addict mother, and an inappropriate relationship with her college professor… Who just so happens to also be a domestic terrorist?

But he knew when he saw her it had to be something. The fire in her isn't the same as the kind people are born with, a passion- a drive- that some are gifted from birth, a reliance that comes baked into their little baby brains without any of the back-breaking work needed. A fire to make someone ambitious, or determined.

No, the fire in her guts, the one that boiled up and filled her eyes sometimes, was something forced on her, the gasoline poured down her throat before they started in on the matches.

He could still taste her lips, and it was beginning to drive him insane. Part of him wished he hadn't decided suddenly at nearly thirty years old that suddenly he was going to make moral decisions. He wished he could have waited at least until after he had alleviated his blue balls. But the idea of her looking up at him, with horrified eyes… that would have ended the game. He just had to be patient. Remembering the way her body melted into him the moment he touched her, he hoped that the wait wouldn't be a long one.

He had never felt so unsure in this life, he had always been ready to take the next step forward, but now… He needed intel.

He needed… Something. There was something to the young woman that he didn't have a name for yet, but he knew that there was something… unquantifiable about Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Something… unpredictable. Like a long-abandoned mine, stepped over a million times… Most believe it was long deactivated, but J still smelled TNT. It excited him, never knowing her next move, but it also left room for a certain amount of… restlessness. The idea of calling the rush of energy through his limbs anything else was enough to make his lip curl, unconsciously. He knew he could rely on her to do what was in her best interest… but what else? What exactly would she consider to be in her best interest? Of course, her larger moves were predictable, but… Why wasn't she afraid of him? Not really, not the way she should be… in fact, she had seemed insulted by the idea of being afraid of him. Why did she follow me outside? Why did she look at me like that? He had never had so much trouble figuring out his next move, not even before.

And then there was her costume, not really a costume but a dress, a dress that showed off her, surprisingly long for her small stature, legs. But it didn't stop there, the wide low neckline also exposed much of her pale perfect chest. J couldn't deny that he loved it. It screamed sex and fun, and she had worn it like it was made for her. She wasn't kidding, he thought, When she said red was her color. He remembered how hot and soft she had felt, pressed against him, in that alley, the way her breath came in gasps and low moans. She had been so small too, kissing her would have caused some neck strain if she wasn't also so easy to lift, and so eager to wrap around him.

J pawed at his pained cock through his jeans, irritated at his body's frankly overkill response to just the memory of her ankles locking behind his waist, wondering again if things wouldn't be easier for him if he just killed her.

But something in him told him to wait, that she was important. He trusted his gut more than he probably should.

He wondered what she would think in the morning. She would be horrified surely, disgusted, even. She always had seemed that way in Arkham. His tongue out to wet his scars before he took another puff from his still-lit cigarette, considering. But after that? What would she think after that? Would she be surprised? Angry? He didn't allow himself to be deluded enough to think she would be happy with him, but he wondered…

He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and stood. Jesus Christ, one kiss and I'm pussy-whipped. He walked over, examining the canister he had taken from her. Pulling it to his lips, he took a short draw, wincing at the burnt flavor, that softened into a menthol as it evolved. Within only a moment of releasing the green cloud from between his lips, he felt… lighter. His eyes narrowed once again, turning the container again and again between his fingers.

There was something… there. He just couldn't figure out what yet. He knew he could use this, it was just figuring out how. A drug, inspired by him, being passed around every club in Gotham? He knew there was something there, he just had to claw it out of the void, and into reality.

Just then, on the hotel nightstand, J's phone rang, playing out the old Christmas jingle J insisted on keeping for Frostie's calls, despite the man despising it. He flipped the phone open eager to end the mystery of Dr. Quinzel.

"Oh boy, that didn't take long." He chuckled.

"I texted you an address. You're gonna love this." The other man's voice was tired, and J felt his grin grow even further, a giddy laugh escaping before he could speak, knowing that there was only a short list of things Frost could possibly mean by that.

"Now you're just teasing me. Tell me."

"I think… you're gonna wanna see this for yourself, Boss."

AN: Sorry for the Short one, but Chapter 23 won't be much of a wait, I am so excited that we are finally getting into the meat and potatoes of the story- Which isn't to say the "slow burn-ish" element is gone, just that- Well. You'll see what I mean. I am so excited.

Also Please do comment, it makes my day haha. I can't see any traffic, and I Also, am unable to see any traffic on this page, so I really don't know if anyone is even reading this, but I hope so haha. I am hoping to get back to maybe getting the comic started before the end of the year, but with my health being what it has been I may be pushing that back once again.