Harley pretended to wake up, opening her eyes slowly and stretching to work the stiffness out of her muscles. Reaching through her blonde pigtails, she let the strands slip gently between her open fingers. She noticed Batman watching her from the corner of his eye. Harley also took note of how the muscles in his jaw tightened ever so slightly. She wondered if it had anything to do with the way her jumpsuit snugged tight around her athletic form when she stretched. A part of her mind hoped he was admiring what he saw, but another part questioned why she should care one way or the other. A third part of her mind wondered when was breakfast.

"Once we get to the docks, where do we go from there?" Batman asked, returning his full focus to the road.

"Warehouse storage unit number 16 on Clemson road," Harley told him. "Mr. J used to use it for smuggling all kinds of stuff in and out of the city. The owners objected until he dosed them with happy gas."

"Why didn't anyone notice the owner's dying of laughter?" Batman inquired, turning the car onto Clemson road.

"He gassed them when they were in the mall," Harley reminded. "You remember, the Joker's New Year's party?"

"Eight people died that night," Batman stated coldly, his voice a low growl. "He killed all those other people just to cover up his activity at the docks."

Harley didn't say anything. At the time, watching the people laugh uncontrollably when exposed to the Joker's infamous laughing gas hadn't bothered her, but it seemed to be pricking her conscience today. She didn't know why, but it was making her uncomfortable to think about it. Harley considered it was because for the first time she was seeing those people as victims. It had only been a joke, hadn't it? Harley didn't know anymore. Her recent conflicts with the Joker, spending time with Batman, and seeing things from the Caped Crusader's perspective were making her confused. She didn't know what to think about anything. Her world used to make sense...to her, but nothing did anymore.

Batman parked the Batmobile in front of warehouse number 16. Like most structures in Gotham, the building was old. Gargoyles loomed out from the upper corners of the warehouse, and they would've cast shadows if any sunlight had been able to reach past the thick clouds hovering over the city.  The concrete exterior was chipping from age, neglect, and from trucks and forklifts hitting or scraping up against it over the years.

"Stay here," Batman instructed. He was about to leave when he turned back to Harley and added. "Don't touch anything."

Harley plastered a smile on her face and nodded as if a golden halo hovered over her head.

Batman pulled a lever to his left, and the canopy covering the Batmobile's interior unsealed and slid forward, allowing him to jump out. A few second after he departed, the roof and windshield composing the canopy moved back into place, leaving Harley alone in the armored cocoon of the vehicle.

Batman fired his grapple gun, snaring a gargoyle, and vanishing into the darkness above the warehouse. Harley watched him soar skyward. When she lost sight of him, she turned sideways and propped her feet up on the driver's seat. While adjusting to get comfortable, she "accidentally" pushed the lever Batman had used. The canopy slid open, and Harley performed a backwards flip to exit the car before it closed again. She headed for the warehouse door.

Harley knew Batman would be mad at her for interfering, but she also knew the Joker would be mad she brought Batman here in the first place. Truthfully, she didn't really know what she was doing going inside. She couldn't get her conflicting thoughts in line, and it was starting to seriously bother her. Harley had multiple lines of thought in her head most of the time, sometimes several at once, but this was the first time it confused her to the point of inaction. She didn't know which way to go or what to do next. Harley was hoping whatever occurred between Batman and the Joker would be enough to quiet the new voices in her head for her to make a more or less coherent decision.

The door opened with a loud screech of old, dry hinges. Harley walked right in, supposedly without a care in the world. She knew sneaking up on Joker wasn't an option. After all, she wasn't Batman.

The air was cold, dusty, and dry inside the warehouse. Only the lights on a nearby overpass, coming in through the windows along the uppermost portion of the surrounding walls, provided any kind of illumination. Lights hung down from the ceiling on long cables, but the electricity hadn't worked since Joker took over and stopped paying the bills, so they remained dark and useless. Stacks of wood crates were piled everywhere, inside metal racks or simply jammed in the walkways. Some of the stacks blocked passages, turning the warehouse into a maze.

"What are you doing here?" Joker demanded, appearing from behind a crate with a gun pointed toward her head. The sharp, angular features of the Joker's face, combined with the malicious grin he constantly wore, made the clown truly terrifying in the dim lighting and heavy shadows of the warehouse. His green hair looked almost black, and despite the pale white of his skin, he blended well with the darkness around him. He was the stuff of nightmares to anyone but Harley.

"Hi, Puddin'," Harley said, striking an innocent pose and smiling sweetly at him. "Did you miss me?"

"I can't miss at this range," Joker said with a dark chuckle. His voice dropped to a growl as he asked again. "What are you doing here?"

Harley noticed the gun hadn't wavered in its aim.

"When you didn't come back to get me, I had to escape myself and see if I could be of help," Harley told him.

"Where was your help when I needed out of Arkham?" Joker sneered. He lowered the gun and put it away inside his dark purple suit jacket.

"I'm here now," Harley put forward, her outward disposition never faltering in its cheerfulness. Inwardly, the verbal barb stung.

"I suppose every artist needs an audience," Joker said mostly to himself as he walked toward the rear of the warehouse. "I already know how great I am, but I'm frequently the only one who does. Alright Harley, you can stay and watch. Everything's done now anyway."

"Wheee!" Harley squealed, running to catch up with Joker and clinging to his arm. "Whatcha planning?"

Joker and Harley walked out from the maze of boxes into an area in front of a control board. A large television screen was set up behind the panel of switches, dials, and levers; currently displayed on screen was a blueprint style image of Gotham City. A single light bulb hung over the work station, casting a cone of orange tinted light on the machinery.

"I called City Hall to let them know I was going to gas the city," Joker explained. "By now, they're running around like mad men trying to find my canisters of laughing gas."

"What if they find them?" Harley questioned.

"It'd be a real trick, considering there aren't any," Joker answered. He chuckled slightly. "I said I'd gas the city, but I never said I'd use mine. I'm going to use the city's gas. They're looking for my stuff when the real threat is right under their noses. Joke's on them!"

Joker laughed with wild abandon.

"How soon until the fireworks?" Harley inquired.

"The timer is set for twenty minutes," Joker told her. "Long enough to get to a better view outside the blast area, or I could always just push the button and blow everything up right now. Decisions, decisions."

Without warning, the television and the light bulb over the control board switched off. Joker brushed Harley off his arm on his way to check things. He flipped switches and levers, trying to get any kind of response out of the equipment, but the power was off, turning everything into useless junk.

Joker's fist slammed into the console in frustration. His head slowly raised and turned to face Harley.

"You were followed," Joker snarled. "You led Batman right to me!"

Before Harley could say anything, Joker lunged forward and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry Puddin'," Harley pleaded. "Bringing Batman here was the only way to keep the cops from shooting you."

"You actually brought him here?" Joker screamed, trembling with rage. "I always thought you were incompetent, but this?"

"Why don't you tell her the truth?" Batman's voice rumbled from the darkness all around them.

"What truth would that be?" Joker asked, trying to see where his foe was hiding, but with the darkness in the warehouse, it was pointless. "I know so many truths, but most of them are lies. Besides, what do I care if she knows anything?"

"It's good she's here," Batman's disembodied voice went on. "Your plan to blow up Gotham would have resulted in the destruction of Arkham as well. If I hadn't gotten her out to find you, your plan would have killed her too."

"What's your point Bats?" Joker sneered. "She's bungled my plans enough. It's about time I got a sidekick I can count on."

"You never cared about her," Batman pointed out. "You never thought about her as anything but a pawn in your sick games."

"A guy has to get his kicks somewhere," Joker shouted to the darkness. He turned a cruel smile to Harley on the floor. "You were always good for a laugh."

Harley fought uselessly against the tears trying to escape her eyes.  Abandonment, rejection, betrayal, and loneliness flooded her mind, crashing into one another and preventing any comprehension of which emotion she was actually feeling; they all seemed to be present at the same time.

"How about we end things between us with a bang?" Joker asked coldly, reaching into his jacket to produce his gun. He aimed it at Harley.

Batman swung down from the rafters and kicked Joker into a stack of crates. Wood splintered, and the upper boxes crashed to the floor and broke apart. The Joker's gun spiraled out of his hand, vanishing into the darkness. Unrelenting, Batman tore into the crates to dig the Joker out and continue his attack.

Harley stayed on the floor, feeling the pain in her jaw and the pain in her heart equally. All the time she'd been in love with the Joker, he'd only been using her. Laughing at her. The pain in her jaw reminded Harley of all the abuse, both verbal and physical, she'd taken from the Joker. Her jumbled thoughts suddenly clicked together in her mind and made sense again as a singular emotion rose to prominence, rage.

Pushing herself off the floor, Harley dug through some nearby crates to find something she'd left here the last time she and the Joker had used this place as a hideout.

When Batman pulled a panel of splintered wood off the Joker, he was greeted with a spray from the flower on Joker's lapel. A stream of green acid reached toward Batman's face, and he dodged by the smallest of margins. Airborne particles of the acid still managed to reach his eyes, making them burn. He closed his eyes, covering them with his hands as he backed away from the Joker.

"You know, Batman, I've been called heartless from time to time," Joker said casually as he got up and dusted off his suit. He drew a knife from the small of his back. "How about I take yours?"

Harley used the large gun she'd found and pistol-whipped the Joker in the side of his face. The crazed clown was dumped to the floor, and his attempts to get back up were uncoordinated, showing he'd been dazed. Harley didn't dare take her eyes off the Joker. Pointing the sizable weapon upward for a moment, Harley jammed a large cork in the barrel before directing its aim at her former boyfriend.

"You two-timing little..." Joker began, but he immediately stopped when Harley jammed the cork gun against the end of his long, pointed nose.

"You got something to say, clown?" Harley asked, practically spitting the term she used in reference to him.

Joker hesitated. "I may have been a bit hasty."

"Shut up!" Harley yelled. "Batman doesn't kill, but I wouldn't expect the same from me."

"You don't have the guts," Joker practically dared her.

Harley squeezed the trigger, and the gun fired with a tremendous bang.