AN: Hey important note at the end of chapter.

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me"
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?

Control / Halsey

Mornings had always been difficult for me, climbing out of bed was a fistfight with gravity, but since I had come back it had been especially bad. I pried myself away from the blankets, shoving my way toward the restroom.

Princess and Baby had become so much more needy since I had returned, perhaps sensing in their time away that they had failed to protect me. It was incredibly difficult to leave the house without them, some days they simply wouldn't stand for it.

Today may have been shaping up to be one of those days, as they followed me into the bathroom, refusing to allow me a moment's privacy, though I didn't mind terribly. They were courteous little beasts, not making much noise or tearing anything in the apartment, so long as I allowed them that closeness. I enjoyed their blind loyalty, at times wishing people could be more like them.

I didn't have the energy to wash my hair, but the heat on my scalp was too fantastic to resist. I allowed the hot water to run through the much shorter hair, uncaring of the mess it would make of it. Luckily it was Friday, and I had no sessions, so I would be able to shoot a quick email to Jerry's receptionist to let them know I would be working on updating files from home today, so I wouldn't be in the office. Something I was glad to use my trauma to help facilitate.

I needed to see Johnny today and work out our next move. Finally, I was able to remove myself from the comfort of the heat, shooting Johnny a message to ask if he was able to come to see me today. He answered immediately, as he had every time I had reached out, making me wonder what kind of instructions J had left him with.

He asked when I wanted him there and I told him as soon as possible, and asked if he could pick up doughnuts, and coffee for both of us, promising to pay him back when he arrived. Within twenty minutes he knocked on my door, two boxes of Krispy Kreme and two large coffees. Princess and Baby sniffed him at the door, Baby giving a soft growl before I could comfort her into silence.

"Sorry, they don't like strangers, really. But they won't bite, well, unless I tell them to." I scratched behind Princess's ears, grinning affectionately.

"Scary dogs." He commented. "Pink collars?"

Ignoring him, I checked the color of the coffee before sipping, grimacing at how sweet it was.

"You got me his order again." I sighed, shaking my head.

"Sorry, it's muscle memory I think." He looked bashful.

"That's fine, I know you've been his evil personal assistant for much longer than you've known me. I should have reminded you."

"Personal Assistant." He snorted. "I've never thought about it that way, but I suppose that fits."

"At least you remembered to get lemon filled?" I laughed with him, but he only looked more bashful, as we moved into the kitchen. At the table, I explained my conversation with J and his laissez-faire approach to the state-mandated liver failure that Arkham was conducting on him. Johnny laughed at my concern about this.

"Trust me. He isn't gonna die from being high for a couple of weeks. Years, even. I don't think there's a chemical compound out there that could kill the man. He's like a fucking opossum."

I glowered, outnumbered by the two men. Baby laid her head in my lap with a low whine, sensing my unease.

"Why are you so worried, I thought he wasn't your boyfriend?" Frost sounded smug and I launched the other half of my doughnut at his face, smearing it with the lemon jelly filling. He sighed again, muttering under his breath about clowns and throwing shit at him.

"Just because we aren't going steady like it's 1942 doesn't mean that I want him dead. Waste of good dick." I sniffed. "Do you know how hard it is to find a guy who can keep up with me?" I grinned, hoping the sexual comments would make him drop it, but of course, it didn't.

He snorted again. "You expect me to believe that you risked your career and your freedom to have a five-minute conversation with the man– all because you missed fucking him? Don't buy it."

"I don't care what you buy -" I snarled, embarrassed again and ready to move on. "I care about getting him out of there before his skin goes jaundiced from the drugs. I highly doubt he could get a transplant."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "You know what I think?"

"No, and I don't care to." I opened my laptop ready to work, but this time, Johnny seemed emboldened by my quiet dismissal.

"I think you know the drugs won't bother him, just like you knew staying at the hotel was a fine idea. But you can't admit to yourself that you miss him so you come up with other reasons so that you don't have to face it."

I blushed, in anger I assured myself, ignoring him pointedly, and continued to log into Arkham's filing system. I had been removed from his case, but I still had access to the files, more than likely a system error or an admin oversight, but I intended to take advantage. "How did you get him out last time?" I asked, "I don't know the details, I was at home and they only ever talked about the casualties on the news."

Johnny shrugged, lighting up and offering me the pack. I took one without hesitation, lighting it with the offered Bic, a small tug in my stomach as I did. "Paid off an orderly to let one of our guys into the lighter security portion, the schizophrenic thieves like Schiff, the nudist homeless guys, you know. The mostly non-violent ones. Or… They were before they met J. See, half of those guys knew J, one way or another, and once their doors were open the remaining guards didn't stand a chance."

I nodded. "Well, is it possible—"

He shook his head. "Not yet. Most of those guys are still on the loose. That's probably what he's waiting for."

"Not helpful." I groaned. "Fuck. This is such bullshit. Building a jailbreak is not in my fucking job description."

"Then let it go." He shrugged, smirking still.

Suddenly I heard my front door open, and my eyes widened staring at Johnny- before the intruder entered the kitchen, seeing the lights on. Both dogs growled lowly, hackles rising. Johnny raised a gun I didn't know he had on him, though I should have guessed.

"Stop!" I shouted when I took in the identity of the man trembling with a gun between his eyes. "That's my… brother. Kind of. Just not legally. Or biologically."

"Harley what the fuck…" Eddie whimpered, trembling even as Johnny lowered the gun. Well, he did want to know. I shook the thought away. I was not telling him everything right now.

"Sorry, but Johnny here is… an ex-marine, and you did kind of break in."

"I have a spare!" He cried.

"That is for emergencies, not to come and go as you please!" I exclaimed, petting Princess, who still kept her eyes locked on my quasi-brother, though she looked up at me after a moment, relaxing.

He paled, glancing back to Johnny before his mouth opened and closed several times.

"What is it, Ed?"

"I'm guessing…" He cleared his throat, "You haven't seen the paper?"

My stomach dropped as I took in his face, even more nervous than when he had a gun to his head. Fuck. "It's about me isn't it?"

"It's not even that bad, completely conjecture, in fact, I was looking up lawyers on the way here, I think you have a strong case for libel–"

" What did it say? "

He flinched, reaching into his back pocket. "Now, take a deep breath–" I ripped it from his hands, opening the folded paper to reveal the headline. I watched my fingers tremble on either side of the page as I read past that, down the article breathing heavily. Both dogs circled me uneasily. Cunt. Fucking. I'll. You're a goddamn dead woman. I'll scoop out your frontal lobe, you rotten bitch. I'll feed you to my dogs. I'll… I'll.

"What does it—"

" Shut the fuck up, Johnny." I continued reading, eyes bouncing back up to the byline when I finished.

"What do you think you can find out about a reporter if I give you her name?"

"Depends on how long you give me."

"Four hours."

He snorted. "Enough for a biography."

"Then you have two."

"Name?"

"Vicki fucking Vale. Address first. Everything else last."

"Harley—" Eddie started, but I wasn't finished speaking to Johnny.

"I need his tools. The big bag." I looked up at him finally, and I don't know what my face must have shown, but he took a half-step back as his face went pale, and he swallowed, nodding.

With that I worked to put Icky-Vicki out of mind, knowing that the rabid rage wouldn't be helpful in this moment. I worked to push it down, under the promise that she would die screaming like the bitch she was.

" Harley. " Eddie interrupted again, but he had the good sense not to touch me at least. "What the hell is going on?! And who is this guy?"

I took a breath. "Do you want in this?"

"I'm already in it!" He shouted, hands coming to pull on his hair helplessly. "My sister is missing, I helped dispose of a dead body, and I just heard you say you wanted the address of a reporter who wrote a bad story on you. Suffice to say, I'm fucking in it!"

"Don't you fucking get mean with me right now. I'm meaner. And pissed enough to not care about hurting you." I glared and he lowered his eyes.

"I don't want to fight, Harley. Just tell me the fucking truth and stop leaving me alone to riddle it the hell out."

"I fucked the Joker," I said plainly. "And I'm gonna break him out of Arkham. Probably this Sunday." I grimaced, not looking forward to the moved-up timetable, or what would have to happen now.

"So soon?" Johnny asked, looking confused. I slammed the paper on the table as an answer.

The headline "The Joker's Doctor– Or Lover? Harley Quinn" stared up at him, and he cursed.

"Time-table has shifted. The paper says Gordon's on my ass. God knows what he has on me already. And if he's on the case, so is our least favorite rodent . I'm surprised he hasn't kicked my door down already." I shifted, stepping to my liquor cabinet and removing a rocks glass and the vodka, which I gave a generous pour, and then shot back.

Eddie appeared to be having some kind of episode that I didn't have time for right now, so I left him to his devices, as I lifted my regular cell, shooting a text to Jervis. Might as well look the part.

"You– I— He put Guy's bones on the balcony!"

"Yeah."

"And you—"

"We have established that I make bad choices, Eddie ."

He seemed to be processing still, but I moved on, looking to Johnny.

"His guy inside, is he gonna be—"

"He'll do whatever you tell him. His name is Tim or something similar, real jerk-off, but money-motivated."

"Good. I have an idea, but I need to think more about the execution. I'll fill you in when the details are clear."

"Got it."

"Pay him now. Pay him a lot. His job is a big one."

"Got it." He jumped on his phone immediately and I turned to Eddie.

"Pam is alive." His eyes jerked to mine, mouth still moving as though trying to decide what to say. "I can't tell you where she is, or what is going on, but you deserve to know she's alive and… not safe, but safer than you think, and taking care of her own shit behind the scenes. She doesn't want you involved right now."

His eyes filled with tears before he could close them, which he did before they spilled over, nodding slowly. "I– Thank you. That's… yeah. Thank you."

I nodded, leaving the room to change into something more concealing. I didn't want to be asked for statements right now. "I'll be back. Gotta go shopping. Watch my babies, Frost!"

After the door slammed behind her, Eddie turned back, looking at the shorter brunette man, who very quickly ended his call, sitting at her table, and pulling a laptop from a messenger bag Eddie hadn't noticed, what with the man's Glock pressed to his head.

"You work for him, don't you?"

"Captain fucking obvious over here. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius." the other man grumbled, not looking up. It was clear he didn't want to become friendly.

"Harley told you about me?"

"No."

"Then–" Eddie stopped, answering his own question mentally. The same way he is about to know everything about Vicki Vale. "What does he want with her?"

Johnny looked up now, eyes sympathetic for only the briefest of moments, before they went blank. "You would have to ask him." He got back to work and Ed knew he wouldn't get answers out of him. Fuck.

He spun on his heel, exiting the room, and lifting his own phone to call Oswald. He would know what to do. He always knows what to do.

The penthouse door opened slowly, and Jervis met my eyes with timid ones. "What is going on?"

"Can't I just want to see you?"

"With what I saw in the papers today?"

Fuck. "Can I come in?"

He stood aside and I entered his apartment, yanking off my hood and running my hands through the messy hair beneath it again and again. God, I wonder how this is gonna go. I liked Jervis. I hoped I didn't have to kill him. It would be a crime against god to kill someone so talented.

"So." I took a breath, turning to look at him.

"How long have you two been screwing?"

"I- what?" I paused, taking in his expression.

"The Joker. I didn't believe it, at first but–"

"But what?"

"Well… look at you, Harley?"

I grimaced. "That bad?"

"I wouldn't say bad per se." He defended but was clearly just trying to make me feel better. "Maybe... Wild?"

"Fantastic. I look like an animal."

"I didn't say—"

"You wouldn't. You're too nice."

He laughed.

"You aren't freaking out?" I asked, feeling slightly dizzy with his non-reaction.

"Harley, I make designer drugs. I am a criminal. Not quite the same kind of course, but… if you're happy." He shrugged. "You deserve that, you know? You've been sad for so long."

"You're talking like I'm in love with him or something." I rolled my eyes, but he only smiled softly, making me grimace. "Shut up. I need your help."

He looked unsure. "What do you need?"

"Do you still have that outfit from Halloween?"

He looked relieved and sighed heavily. "Lord, if it's clothes you need, then absolutely, I was terrified you were about to ask me to do grunt work. I have aristocratic hands, you know?" He held them out, showing off perfectly white un-calloused hands.

"You have artist hands." I defended, gripping them, remembering the many times they had worked magic on pieces of forgotten fabric. One look around his overcrowded apartment would tell anyone that. He was an artist through and through. Certainly not the one I would think of for meat shopping. Meat shopping? Great, now I'm using his terminology. "I would never try to subject you to physical labor."

"Good, because I would have just told you to shoot me." He sniffed. "What do you need it for?"

"Do you want to know, or do you want plausible deniability?"

He giggled, "Oh, I love a jailbreak!"

"How do you keep knowing what I'm going to say?" I laughed.

"You're transparent." He shrugged.

"No one else thinks so."

"They aren't seeing. They're just looking."

My lip wobbled, and he pulled me in for a hug. "Friend. You deserve happiness. I've watched you fight for so many things, but never that. I always wondered why."

"It seemed… hopeless. Happy isn't… something I thought could happen. Ever."

Jervis seemed shocked that I was answering, stepping back to look at me, but keeping one arm around my shoulders. After a moment, he led me to the couch where he sat beside me, handing me a blunt, which I started to decline, but huffed, shrugging and shaking my head. Whatever. I slipped it between my lips, taking the Bic from his hand, lighting it, ignoring the now painfully obvious tug in my stomach. How the hell am I supposed to deal with him being gone if I can't even smoke a cigarette without missing him? Tears pricked my eyes, but I took a deep pull, knowing the coughing fit would cover for me.

"Why did you think that?" His voice was deadly serious, but he kept his focus on rolling another.

"I guess… I figured it was genetic. I've always felt… empty. I don't feel things like I should. I knew that. I don't miss people when they're gone. I don't… care about things that I should. Nothing about the way I am is the way it should be." I stopped, taking another deep pull, and this time, when the coughing fit was over, he slid a glass of water in front of me, which I sipped thankfully. "The world is so… boring. All the time. It drags me down so far I can't even breathe. Normalcy has always felt so foreign… so. Wrong. Dull. But with him. "

I took a breath, leaning back, taking another draw. "Everything is in fast-forward. He just goes. He just does things. He's exciting, and he's so funny and interesting. And he doesn't treat me like I'm made out of glass. It's like what you said before, Jervis. He sees me. And not just the way I'm feeling. Everything. And he gets it. He understands." a sob broke free at the last sentence. A solemn revelation came over me suddenly, and I don't know if it came from the weed or finally saying all of the shit out loud, but I spoke it into the world without thinking.

"I'm in love with him." It came out a whisper, and I looked to Jervis, expecting horror, or the revulsion I had seen in so many when it came to Joker- instead, I found a determination. A serious set to his mouth, eyebrows drawn together.

"Harley, did I ever tell you why I moved to Gotham?"

I shook my head.

"I… Back home, in England, I worked for a pharmaceutical company." He grinned. "Not very different from what I do now, honestly. I was a lot like you when I was young. I never thought I would be happy, either." He smiled sadly, looking away. "And then I met Alice. She was… perfect. Like an angel. She was an American, from Gotham, and she would always tease me, because of my accent. She said… She said I reminded her of the Mad Hatter," He chuckled, but it sounded choked. "She loved children's books, cartoons, and things. She didn't care when people said she was childish. 'Jervis' she would say, 'life is too short to put limits on your joy.'"

He lit his blunt, breathing deeply. "I… we were married. She didn't want to, you know? Said I was too young to be a widower." His breath was shaky. "But I didn't care. All I wanted was to call her mine, in every sense of the word."

He looked at me now, a small smile on his lips, tears staining his cheeks. "Pancreatic cancer. She was so beautiful, right up until the end. She was so scared I wouldn't think so, you know? How ridiculous. As if she could have ever been anything short of radiant. But." He went quiet.

"Anyway. Harley. Life. Is short. Too short. Don't limit your love. Don't limit your joy. Don't… miss out because you're afraid."

I watched him for a long moment, taking in the story, watching his tired eyes. "I won't. I swear I won't."

"Then that's all that matters." He smiled, wiping his tears, and sniffing heavily, before standing, bringing the energy back into the room. "Follow me. I'm so excited! This is more thrilling than the time I got a call from Sophia Falcone about bejeweling the veil for her wedding. Oh, Harley, they are gonna turn inside out when they see you. You'll be the best-dressed criminal Gotham has ever seen if I have anything to say about it."

Hi guys! So I messed up. I started rewatching Gotham. Now. I am going to finish this story, but after Sour Candies, I was going to begin directly working on the sequel to it... However... I am considering Putting the Unexpected Developments Universe on a brief hold to write a Gotham Jerome Valeska/ Harleen Quinzel story.

Don't be mmmaaadddd I just love these clowns and I love rewriting their fuck-y dynamic in new and funny ways. And Yeah, I know. In Gotham Jerome wasn't the Joker, in fact, Jerimiah was or whatever- but I choose to ignore that entirely because I like Jerome better. He's pretty. I may work on the sequel and the untitled Gotham fic concurrently, but that probably won't happen, or if it does, it won't happen WELL.