In Another Life IV

Chapter 13

"Well, don't you look pretty!" exclaimed Rocco, as Harleen entered the kitchen later that day dressed in the red blouse and black pants he had bought. Contrary to routine, she had left her blonde hair down, and it hung past her shoulders. "You'd hardly know you'd recently been in an accident! You hungry?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied.

"Good, 'cause I made a lotta pancakes," he said, piling some onto a plate and handing it to her. "You eat up now, and then we'll take you home. Boss says a lotta people'll be missing you, your boss and your boyfriend and everyone."

"Yeah, I...I guess they will," she agreed.

"Your boyfriend's a real lucky guy, if you don't mind me saying so," continued Rocco. "The boss thinks so too."

"Does...he?" stammered Harleen, surprised.

"Sure he does," he said, shoveling some sausages onto her plate. "I told him your boyfriend's a lucky guy, and he said he was probably the luckiest guy in the world, aside from him."

"Did he...say anything else about me?" asked Harleen, quietly.

"Only that you seem real familiar to him," he said. "He thinks he knew you before the accident somehow. You know the boss don't have a lotta memories before then, but he said he could never forget your face. He said he ain't that crazy!" he laughed.

"Why do you work for him?" she asked. "A...madman like that?"

"Well, it pays the bills," said Rocco. "Sometimes more than that, depending on what kinda crimes the boss does. Whatever it is, it's never dull. It's as good a job as any, and one of the few I'm qualified for. And most criminals are a pretty crazy bunch. At least the boss usually gets results. He's smart, y'see. Not many criminals are. I certainly ain't. He may be crazy, but he ain't stupid."

Harleen nodded, finishing her breakfast in silence while Rocco chatted away about trivialities. "So we'd better take you home to that boyfriend of yours," said Rocco, standing up. "You must be missing him a lot."

"No, I'm...I'm not," said Harleen, suddenly. "I don't want to go back to him. I don't...love him."

"Oh," said Rocco, surprised. He was silent for a moment and then said, "Well, can I ask why you're with him if you don't love him?"

"I don't know," whispered Harleen. "Because...because I was afraid to be alone. Because I...had an incident in my own past that made me terrified and suspicious of the world, and I was afraid I didn't have the strength to face it on my own. Because...a man I loved very much...abandoned me once, and I never got over it. But...but I think we've found each other again now. I think fate or destiny or whatever you wanna call it has given us a second chance of being happy together. And I'd be crazy to throw it away."

She stood up. "You don't have to drive me anywhere. I'm staying here."

"Oh...ok," said Rocco. "I'll...uh...tell the boss. How long are you staying?"

"As long as he wants," she murmured. "As long as he needs me."

...

Later that night, the Joker stared at the blank page in front of him, head in his hands. Normally schemes and plots came easy to him, but this time something was distracting his usual criminal genius from asserting itself. And he knew what it was. Harleen Frances Quinzel.

The first time he saw her, memories had begun to haunt him, memories that didn't make any sense to him. Memories of a child, a sweet, beautiful child, with a perfect smile and a clown doll. And memories of blood and death and pain – screaming and sobbing and agony, agony as he lost that child forever. Or thought he had.