Joker flashed the camera a second time before rushing into the apartment. Harley had been ready for the tactic and had raised a hand to block the majority of the intensity. She flipped backwards in a sideways corkscrew, allowing her to swing out with her bat and catch Joker on the underneath side of his chin.

The Joker staggered backwards but steadied himself on the doorframe and regained his balance.

Harley landed, facing the Joker squarely and tightening her grip on the bat. In all their previous confrontations, Harley had taken a beating out of love for the Joker. This time would be different. This time, she'd fight back.

"So that's the way it's going to be, eh?" Joker said while massaging is bruised jaw. He reached in inside his jacket and pulled out a crowbar from a specially designed pocket. "Fine. Let's dance."

Joker swung the metal bar at Harley's head, but rather than block it and risk damage to her bat, she ducked under it and jammed the Joker in the stomach with the large end of her bat. Diving across the floor behind the Joker, Harley came out of the roll and hit Joker in the back of his ankle, knocking his leg out from under him and dropping the clown hard onto his back.

She had to immediately roll away as the Joker turned to one side and used the claw end of his crowbar to slash at her. The sharpened metal thudded into the wood floor and imbedded.

Harley was back on her feet in an instant, keeping her eyes on her opponent while maneuvering closer to the dresser by the door.

Joker snarled as he got up and ripped the crowbar from the floor in a burst of splinters.

With one hand still holding her bat, Harley used her other hand to pull out the drawers of her dresser. The dresser was built cheaply and didn't have the necessary hardware to halt the drawers at full extension, allowing them to be pulled free and hurled toward the Joker.

The drawers shattered into fragments as Joker smashed them aside with the crowbar, taking a menacing step toward her with every swing.

The throwing of the drawers was ineffective in either hurting or halting the Joker, but it had never been Harley's intention. She needed the drawers out of the way to reach what she had stashed in the back of the drawer compartments. Tuning quickly, she reached inside and pulled out her large cork gun, spinning around to point it at the Joker.

The crowbar struck her gun and knocked it aside and out of her hand.

"Not this time," Joker sneered. He swung the crowbar back the other way, and Harley barely ducked in time to avoid a bone breaking impact. The crowbar knocked a lamp off the dresser, shattering it into a million pieces and darkening half of the apartment.

Harley slipped past the Joker and jumped into the air. She touched one hand to the back of the sofa as she flipped over it, putting some distance between herself and the Joker.

"Hasn't anyone told you, it's not safe to play with guns?" Joker asked, dropping the crowbar to draw a revolver from inside his coat.

Harley dived toward a round table in the corner, grabbing the central post in passing and tipping the table over in the process. She curled up behind the upended table, using it for a shield as the sound of gunfire filled her apartment. Bullets tore into the tabletop, but the steel plate she'd installed underneath while decorating her apartment halted the deadly rounds before they could reach her.

Taped to the underside of the table was a fist sized cloth bag. She tore away the tape and dumped the contents of the bag into her hand. The small metal jacks looked no different than the star shaped toys used by children, but Harley's were special. Throwing the jacks over the table in a blind toss, Harley launched them in the Joker's general direction.

The jacks exploded on impact, creating small explosions and clouds of smoke. A few detonated close to the Joker, staggering him.

Harley used the momentary distraction to leave her hiding place and attack. She grabbed a chair next to the table she'd used for cover and broke it over the Joker's head. Using the bat she still carried, Harley smashed the Joker's gun with a satisfying crack. The gun flew across the room, breaking the window as it left the apartment.

Joker's hand seized the bat in an iron grip.

"This is no way to welcome a house guest," Joker said. He punched Harley in the stomach and knocked the wind from her lungs. "I'll have to teach you some manners."

Harley released the bat and staggered toward the kitchen.

"Look, Harley," Joker said as he raised the appropriated weapon. "I'm now the bat-man!"

Insane laughter filled the apartment, and Harley couldn't believe she'd once found it funny. She struggled to regain her breath while continuing to move away from her attacker. She barely moved aside as her bat came crashing down on the kitchen counter, shattering a vase of red and black flowers she'd placed there.

Harley swept her hand across the counter, cutting her hand on the shards as she hurled the broken glass toward the Joker's face. He leaned away, shielding his face and giving her a moment to grab one of the cabinet doors. The cabinet didn't have hinges, and it came off in her hand. Using the door as a club, she broke it over the Joker's head, and she kicked the bat away when he inadvertently dropped it.

Joker screamed with rage as he advanced on her with full fury. He grabbed her by the shoulder near the neck and slammed her face first down on the counter, but she managed to lay hold of the cutting board nearby and hit him in the nose. Although not particularly powerful due to the awkward angle, Joker still yelled in pain on impact and released her.

Harley realized the years of abuse she'd suffered had made her used to pain Joker dealt out and allowed her to keep fighting. She struck the Joker in the stomach with her knee, staggering him back enough for her to be able to spin around and drive her boot heel into his chest. While he was still reeling, Harley jumped, kicking off against the front of the stove and rolling over the counter and back into the living space of her apartment.

Joker was quick to continue the fight. Harley dodged and weaved, blocking and avoiding most of the blows he rained down on her, and getting in a few shots of her own in the process.

When she twisted sideways to avoid a punch to her ribs, Joker bent his arm and wrapped it around her, giving him the hold he needed to flip her over onto the coffee table. The table broke apart, and Harley found herself unable to get up or move away.

Joker drew a knife and knelt down beside her, running the flat of the blade along the skin under her jaw.

"I'm not going to kill you," Joker promised. "I am going to kill that billionaire stuffed shirt you've been hanging around with. Then, I'll kill Batman for getting you away from me in the first place. When I'm finished, I'll burn the city down around you. You left me, Harley, so you'll spend the rest of your miserable little life alone."

He stood up and retrieved the wide brimmed yellow hat he'd lost during their fight.

"Sorry to leave when we're just starting to have fun," Joker said. "But you know how it is. People to kill, cities to burn, work, work, work. But never fear, I'll be seeing you."

The Joker's mad laughter echoed down the hallway even after he slammed the door on his way out of the apartment.

Harley tried to get up, but her muscles refused to let her do anything more than roll over. She willed herself to move as she had to warn Bruce.

The window shattered as Batman dived into the apartment.

"Harley," Batman said, kneeling beside her and scooping her out of the broken remains of her table. "I heard a report on the police scanner about a domestic disturbance and came to check on you. I'm sorry I wasn't here fast enough."

"I'll live," Harley moaned. "He's going after Bruce Wayne and Batman."

"I'll deal with him," Batman promised.

Carrying her to the window, Batman ducked out onto the fire escape. Attaching a small canister shaped device to the metal railing, he jumped over the side with Harley in his arms. A line of cable, attached to his belt, unspooled from the device, slowing their descent to street level where the Batmobile waited.  Pressing a button on his belt, Batman released the magnets holding the device to the fire escape, and it dropped, recoiling the cable as it fell to his waiting hand.

Batman placed her gently in the passenger seat before getting in behind the wheel and slamming his armored boot down on the accelerator. The high powered vehicle took off in a cloud of smoke and squealing tires.

Harley was still slightly groggy, but she still managed to wonder how he would get past the reporters camped outside his property. The answer came when Batman turned down an alley and the wall at the far end slid aside to reveal a tunnel behind it. The tunnel entered into an abandoned subway line Batman had repurposed into his own private highway.

The Batmobile came to a screeching stop inside the cave, and Batman worked quickly to lift her out of the seat and carry her to a medical station he'd built within the cave.

Harley had seen medical facilities, mental and otherwise, many times, but she couldn't remember seeing a more well equipped or capable one before. She was placed on a padded bed, and Batman immediately began checking her injuries.

Batman removed his cowl, and Harley could see the lines of concern on his face. It took all the effort she could manage, but she raised a hand and caressed his cheek, letting him know she was alright. She'd taken worse before and lived through it; Harley was confident she'd be skipping around the Batcave again in no time.

Batman sighed in relief after he finished bandaging her up. "You're going to be fine."

"I thought I was fine," Harley joked with a weak gesture toward her figure.

He smiled slightly and leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

"When I first got there and saw what he did to you," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Don't waste any more time on me," she recommended softly. "He's after Bruce Wayne. No telling how many he'll kill to get to him."

Bruce stood up and put the cowl back on.

"Don't worry," Batman growled through clenched teeth. "He's mine."