Due process will bite you on the ass every time. It took nearly a week for the hospital to finally process her tox reports (even though they should have had them ready that day), and even longer for Daddy to be granted a look at them. I suspect the same morons who washed their hands of the problem by asking Arkham to pick her up were behind the greatly-reduced speeds. They had better watch their backs.
Before the police were through analysing the serum, Bruce called me with his own opinions on her bloodwork, and I almost dropped my cell.
"Smilex?!"
"The same alternate draft used on Tim," he said wearily. "Plus additives from Crane's latest concoction. Somebody out there is writing their own cookbook of villainy."
"But... but she's not laughing, or- well, not much, and her hair is still blonde. What's-"
"She's only had one dose, Barbara. Perhaps, with further exposure, she'd end up looking like The Joker, but thankfully-"
"Yeah." I sipped at my now-cold tea, thinking hard. "But... who would possibly have some of that? Do you think somebody raided their hideout after-"
"I took it all," he assured me. "Every drop they had left - and I disposed of most of it by breaking it down at the chemical level."
"Then where's the rest?"
"Secured. Don't worry, I rechecked when I discovered it was made from the Smilex Two-Point-Oh formula - safe and sound."
"Then do you still have the antidote she helped us make?"
"In triplicate. Won't take me long to modify it. I suspected something like this might happen sooner or later, but I'd never have imagined Harley would be the intended-"
"Bruce, I- you have to get it to her right now, right now!"
"Calm yourself, Barbara." His tone was sharp. I was being too excitable, and he didn't tolerate that from his charges. I understood why; it could be fatal out in the field. "The police are working on figuring out what happened, and before they get that far, I'll deliver a dose to your father."
"I could take it to him," I offered. "Hang on, I'll be there in-"
"NO, Barbara. Too visible a connection. I'll take care of it."
My foot stamped of its own will. "But I can't just sit here and wait for the grass to grow!"
"That is exactly what you will do. You do trust me, don't you?"
"Yes," I said begrudgingly.
"Make sure to be ready to console her when she's through the other side of this." A deep, worried breath. "It might not be pretty; Harley may not bounce back as fast as Tim."
"But- but you just said the amount of exposure-"
"Harley was once certifiable without use of drugs; even a chemically-induced relapse may take her longer to recover from. Then again, she might merely be laid up for a few days. Remember: hope for the best..."
"...but prepare for the worst," I finished for him. "That crapola never cheers anybody up."
"If I only wanted to cheer Gotham up, I'd be spreading the Smilex myself."
. . ᴥ . .
More or less through sheer force of will and a ceaseless barrage of whining, I was allowed to be present for the administration of the anti-Smilex. Four guards surrounded the bed, Dr Leland was taking notes in the corner, and a team of doctors (whom received a continuous stink-eye from me) sedated her, then pushed the needle into her arm. I cringed; it looked painful. Then, they made me go back into the hall and wait.
Two hours dragged by in the waiting room before they updated me; little change. She was incoherent and prone to fits. The same story after four hours; they shot her up with a second dose at that time. Then, when the seven hour mark was near and I was seriously considering heading for home to wait anxiously by the phone, I received real news.
"She's been asking for you," said Dr Leland. "By name."
"How is she?" I asked as I trotted down the hall.
"A marked improvement," she assured me with a slight smile. "The hallucinations have apparently all but ceased, and she's crying more than laughing. I do have to warn you, however, that she is not quite back to her usual self; be prepared.
"And she's not... dangerous?"
"She's strapped down for her own safety, so even if she were violent..."
"Right." I found I was already standing outside her door. "Okay... here I go."
The lights had been dimmed. Swallowing hard, I stepped over to her bed, and I saw the streaks running down the side of her face. "Poor thing," I whispered, patting the hand where the IV had been attached.
"Speak for y'self," she muttered.
"Harley? You're- you're awake?!"
"Yeah," she laughed weakly, blonde head rolling over to look at me. Only now did I notice a slight greenish tint to her roots. "Christ almighty, Babs, you look so damn good ta me right now..."
"You, too, Harley. God, why did you have to scare me like that?!"
"I know... shoulda just been the designated driver again. Woulda avoided all this freakin' sideshow. NO!"
I blinked. "What, what?!"
"Nothin'," she whispered, nose twitching slightly. She acted so weak... "But ever since I got dosed - 'cos that's what they're tellin' me now, it was Puddin's old formula - I've been seeing... him everywhere. Like a ghost who won't quit hangin' around, rattlin' rusty old chains."
My face fell. "Oh."
"Babsy, don't... don't look at me like that, like I'm goin' back to Crazytown. I'm- I don't want it to happen, but-"
"You're not," I said firmly. "I just... oh, I'm sorry you have to deal with it, that's all. Nobody should have to suffer through that."
Fresh tears appeared, and I wanted to look away to keep myself from joining her, but that would've been cruel. "You believed me. Even when I didn't believe myself. The whole time, y- you knew somethin' wasn't kosher. And... and you came to visit me, and I felt ten times better, even if-"
"You heard me?" I said with a pained smile, sniffing. "Even through the- the effects, you could hear me?"
"I could hear everybody," she insisted. "The whole time! Only... I had trouble distinguishing them from the shadows. OH!"
"What? Are you okay?"
"Him again," she sobbed, turning her head to and fro. "I... I want him to go away, if he'd leave me alone I could totally kick this!"
"You will," I assured her. "You'll pull through, and me and the boss will be waiting for you on the other side! Just... just get your rest, let the antitoxin work its magic."
"Babs?" When I didn't answer, she went on, biting her lip. "I... I want you to know something."
"What's that?"
"I'm always your friend. Even if I'm evil, or crazy or whatever, and even if you decide ya hate me, I... I'll be there for ya, no matter what. Bank on it."
"I was supposed to say that stuff," I laughed wetly, bending down to hug her; she craned her head upward as best she could. "Oh, Harley..."
"You better get back to the mission," she sniffled, sitting back. "I got some recuperating to do."
"Harley, I- I want to explain myself, if you'll listen..."
"Hm?"
"At the penthouse," I rushed ahead, kicking myself forward at every step. "Wh... when I was leaning forward? I- well, you seemed to think I was trying to take advantage of you or something, but that's- I'm not that kind of-"
"Forget about it," she said calmly. Upon closer inspection, I could see she was starting to drift off. "Babsy, I knew that... you're my compadre, and I... ain't worried..."
Then she was out; all those sedatives kicking in again. "Goodnight, Harley," I whispered, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead. "Sweet dreams... and I really do wish for that."
. . ᴥ . .
Though her symptoms had more or less disappeared by noon the next day, it took three more before she was released; Dr Leland signed off immediately and all the drug tests coincided with the changes in her mental condition, but that due process wasn't through with Harley, yet. At long last, however, she was tucked safely into the passenger seat of my car, ready to return to the land of the living.
"Whoo!" she sighed, leaning back in the seat. "Boy, am I glad to be wearing pants! Thanks for the clothes loan, by the way." She stretched her arms above her head. "I don't think I can even look at any dresses for a week; those frickin' hospital gowns make draftiness a priority!"
"Let's go to Burger King or something, I'm starving," I moaned, pulling out of the parking lot and flipping the AC on. The summer sun was asserting its presence.
"No, let's go to Friday's," she said with a mischievous grin. "My treat - I mean, not that I oughtta be throwin' the old ill-gotten gains around, but... y'know, what the hey? The girls are together again! Call Brucey and Timmy, let's have a Bat-Family reunion!"
"Wow, you're chipper," I giggled.
"What can I say? A taste of freedom's like a hundred milligrams of Prozac - I'm up, up, up!"
"Really?" My brow creased; I couldn't help but worry. "The shadows are gone?"
"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "I mean, geez, the memories of them are scary enough - still havin' nightmares - but no, I ain't actually seein' him anymore."
"Good," I sighed.
"Besides, I'd much rather be lookin' at you, Babs; you got better taste than to dye yer hair green."
My cheeks flushed. "Oh, cut it out."
After a second, she gasped. "Oops, I- that didn't come out the way I wanted it to, I- I just meant I missed you is all!"
"No, it's okay," I laughed, though I turned the AC up a notch. "You could start trying to give me head right now and it'd be less harrowing than seeing you in Arkham..."
Harley squirmed, then looked out the window. "Huh. That's one comment I'm, uh... kinda not sure how to feel about."
"Yeah." Though my face was red, I also felt like crying. "We lead unusual lives, I think."
"My fault," she sighed. "Your life was blissfully dull without me."
"Dull?!" I protested. "No, it wasn't, I- I did stuff!"
A wry grin began to blossom on her lips. "Oh, yeah? Like what, reciting the Dewey Decimal System?"
"You can't recite the-"
"Organisin' your Tupperware according to size and shape? Makin' sure you got eight-point-five hours of sleep each night?"
"Capturing the most hardened criminal element in Gotham City while swinging between rooftops?"
She hesitated. "Yeah, there's that, I guess. Still, all work and no play..."
"I played! I'm a player!" When her eyebrows went up, I caught my own foolish words. "Th-that is, no, I mean- hey!"
"Hey, what? I didn't say it!" Her arms folded, a faux-wounded expression coming over her. "Rebuffing my advances 'cos ya can't tie yourself down to one person. Shame on you!"
Again, I turned up the AC. "N- stop that! You know I'm not messing around with anybody else, I'd never do that to you, not w-"
Everything went dead quiet. Harley was looking at me intently, and I was focusing on the road. It was very important I watch the road; they tell you that all the time in driving school. The AC still wasn't blowing hard enough - did it have to be this hot today? Then, when I pulled up at a stop sign, she said, "Sorry, but... come again?"
"I- I only meant- dammit, Harley, I haven't made up my mind, so just drop it!"
Her lip quivered slightly. "No, I- I'm sorry, I wasn't tryin' to-"
"I know, I know, but- listen, all I meant was that I wouldn't go off and cheat when this is still up in the air, okay? That wouldn't be right."
I turned the corner, rolling up to another sign. "You don't hafta hold back on my account."
"Well, it doesn't matter one way or the other, because it's not like I have some huge list I've been meaning to get to. My dance card is blank."
"Babs, I would never, ever hurt you, okay?" she suddenly blurted. "Don't worry, I- gosh, I dunno why I'm sayin' this stuff. It's like..."
"Harley, there has to be someone else out there for you," I said weakly, rolling up at a red light and looking at her more directly. "What about Ivy? I mean, obviously I'm not privy to all the details, and she is making Arkham her permanent residence these days, but you and her seemed close for a while there, right?"
A bark of laughter escaped her throat. "Sure we were! Babs, I'd rather not talk about Pam right now, that's ancient history."
"Not to me, it isn't." I spared one more quick glance at her as the light changed to green. "What did she do that was so-"
"I said forget it," she said more harshly. "Don't make me pry open that musty old can o' worms, okay? That eco-Nazi was almost as opportunistic as Mister- I mean, The Joker. Christ, one trip back to the looney bin and all the stuff Joan fixed starts fallin' apart like badly-rolled sushi!"
"Okay, so I won't bring it up again," I muttered. "But I can't be at the top of such a short list, I mean, I... I'm such a stick-in-the-mud, and I have nothing-"
"I told you before not to do that," she said quietly, studying her fingernails. "You don't wanna hear what I think."
"Yes, I do!" I stated firmly, making such a sudden turn into a nearby elementary school parking lot that two vehicles honked at me.
"Barbara Gordon, have you completely lost it?!" Harley squawked, craning her head to look back at the individuals now giving us the finger. "What the hell's- what are ya tryin' to-"
I shifted into park. "Tell me. Give me whatever you have, I- I want to hear it."
She glanced at me fearfully before swallowing hard, eyes dropping into her lap. "No, ya don't. It's... gooshy."
"Yes, I do - you shouldn't have to censor yourself for me. Come on, put it out there."
"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."
My heart stopped. Maybe she was right...
"Every time I see you, I can't... my heart hiccups," she went on, still looking down at my floorboard. "Everything gets all floaty, and... Babs, I can't do this, I'm-"
"Don't stop now." My voice was shaking so much I could barely get the words out; where was this bravery coming from? Not from me - emotionally, I'm chicken shit. "Please. Don't hold back."
"You are so freakin' smart - much smarter than I was even before Mister J blew up my brain, degree or no degree. You got your head on straight, you made yourself a career -two of 'em, counting what you do for the people of Gotham! That's amazing, it's like knowin' Jane Goodall or- or Mother Teresa or somethin'! And... and you keep yer place so clean, you always know where everything is - and you're loyal to a fault, because for some reason you're loyal to me, which I think is probably the only stupid thing ya ever did."
This time, I couldn't tell if I was crying; my mind was filled with her outpouring. It was so much more than I deserved. "Harl..."
"You got this dry sense of humour that's much funnier than my cornball, Three Stooges schtick; I'm always tryin' not to laugh so much, 'cos it makes me sound like I'm head-over-heels and punch-drunk for you. And... and did I mention you're hot? 'Cos hey, that's like-"
"Harley, I-"
"Don't say anything," she snapped, almost angrily. When I'd recovered from the shock, I looked closer at her expression and saw she was actually humiliated and scared out of her mind, and I had to fight to keep from squeezing the hell out of her and stepping all over her confession. "Just... just take me back to my place for now."
"Wh-what? But no, I don't want you to go!"
"I wanna go," she sniffled. "For a little while. So I can stand being around you, knowin' I told you everything."
"Harley, please, I- I need you!"
Now she looked up at me, full of blazing intensity. "Need me how?"
"I... I don't know! I don't know yet, but-"
"Dammit!" She pounded a fist on her armrest. "I... I didn't wanna do this part so soon, I just got my freedom back!"
"I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I'm so, so, so sorry, I- I don't know what I was thinking, bugging you about it, I sh-should never-"
"Forget it," she sighed, smiling weakly at me. "You were tryin' to help. I mean... it was rough, and painful, but at least I'm not hidin' it anymore, and I guess that's kind of a relief."
We looked at each other for a long moment, and I found myself drinking in Harley - the slight green tint to her roots, the dark ringlets of fatigue under her eyes that still couldn't put a dent in her flawless features... how incredible she looked in my jeans. Any guy on the planet would give their left nut to sit near her on the subway, let alone talk to her, and here she was in my car, wearing my clothes, telling me that I was the only one she gave a rat's ass about. If I were a guy, this decision would have been easy - a no-brainer - but...
"Can I go home? I... we can do the victory dance tomorrow, if you still wanna."
"I do!" I blurted - then cleared my throat. "I mean, um... of course. I'd go now if..."
"Yeah." She wiped at her eyes, shivering slightly. "B-Babs, I'm... I'm cold."
The air was on full-blast; I was surprised frost wasn't forming on the windows. My hand twitched, ready to reach for the knob...
"I'm sorry for takin' a good thing and makin' it into an... issue. I'm s-"
She stiffened when my arms slid around her, cutting off mid-word when she started holding her breath. My chin came to rest on the top of her head as I drew her toward my chest. "Shh."
"Babs, what's-"
"I'm cold, too."
Arms snaked up from my hips and pressed into my back, and I stroked along the contours of hers, finally letting one hand rest behind her neck. The air got colder and colder, and I held on tighter, letting the smell of her favoured shampoo fill me up, glad for her warmth.
"Well, I m-meant ya should turn down the AC," she whispered wetly, nuzzling into me. "But this works."
"You are so much more to me than some maniac, or a- or a sidekick, or whatever. I... I'm not sure what I mean by that, because I really am a freaking dipshit, but don't ever think- don't..."
A happy sigh. "I won't."
"And why did you call me 'Dreamfish'?!"
"I called you what?" she laughed, pulling back to look up at me. "But I don't even like fish!"
Danger. In that moment, looking down into her misty blue orbs, feeling her in my arms... dangerous. My hand was at her cheek, and she was blinking in a bashful sort of way, pink lips parted the barest amount. God, what was I waiting for? What was I hung up on?
Then I glanced away for just a second, trying to clear my head so I could decide once and for all - and I saw a sizeable crowd of children no older than ten gathered outside the windows, eyes wide as saucers. One little girl was chewing on her fingernails, looking nervously toward the building as if she wanted to run off and tell a grown-up. Immediately, I flew backward into my seat, entire face painted crimson.
"What, what's wrong?" Harley asked. I felt terrible; she seemed quite hurt.
"We, um... we're the three o'clock matinee, Harley."
Her eyebrows knitted as she turned around. "Wh- whoa, what the- where'd all these damn kids come from?!"
"Probably from the damn school I was stupid enough to park in front of," I groaned. A few of the boys had really goofy grins on their faces - and when I noticed that is when I leaned on the horn. "GO BACK TO CLASS, YOU VOYEURISTIC PIPSQUEAKS!"
They ran like hell.
"Yecch!" Harley muttered, face scrunching up slightly. "Now we're gonna be some pre-pubescent perv's wet dream! Ugh, that's-"
"Let's call Bruce and Tim, Harley."
She glanced over me. "Oh. Really? 'Cos we were kinda-"
"Oh, that can wait," I said firmly, though I was smiling. "You're still sane, and I want to drink to that. Besides, I'd rather it not be a crowd of teachers next time - they might look down on us doing unseemly things in front of impressionable young minds."
"Fair point," she laughed quietly. Then she rubbed her arms. "Cold again, though - turn that thing off!"
. . ᴥ . .
"To Harley's good health," said Bruce, raising his own glass. A scotch and soda, I think.
"To Harley," we echoed - Tim least enthusiastically. Though I could tell he continued to resent her for being on active duty when he wasn't, he seemed less and less bitter about it as time went on. And we did all drink to it - though my daiquiri was virgin. I also noticed Harley was content with a 7-Up - she didn't even want something with pigment, let alone alcohol.
"So," said Tim, grabbing a mozzarella stick, "is Harley... gonna be a Knight again?"
"I'd assumed so," said Bruce casually, though in a low tone. I'd seen him do it a thousand times; for all outward appearance, he was shooting the breeze with good friends, having what seemed to be intimate but wholly gossip-free discourse. "Though given what you've been through, I would certainly understand if y-"
"Don't worry, boss," she laughed. "I'm still in. Just gotta watch my back, I guess."
"Man, I hate this 'being a kid' crap," Tim grumbled. "But you'll see; I'll keep training, and when you're ready to have me back, I will be, too."
"At least you'll be getting regular exercise in the meantime," I put in cheerfully. Tim made a face, biting into his fried cheese. Harley spoke up to fill the lull.
"So, anything good happen while I was outta commission? Deeds of daring do to share?"
"The Penguin's back in Arkham," said Bruce. "Daring enough for you?"
"Super," I groaned. "Let's tell her all about the totally-useless bomb I had to pretend to diffuse, thereby letting a bunch of cut-rate doctors succumb to paranoia."
Tim's eyebrow went up. "Wanna try that again, in English?"
"It's why she wasn't with Harley when they took her to Gotham General," Bruce added.
"Well, duty calls," said Harley, smiling at me. "But nobody coulda known the Smilex would come back! That's- that's like a million-to-one chance, right?"
I stirred my drink. "Thanks for trying."
"C'mon, no guilty-face," she pleaded, her own bottom lip on full pout. "At least ya made sure I got to the hospital; they were supposed to take care o' the rest. Water under the bridge, now."
Those puppy-dog eyes were killing me. "Oh, fine. But I'm still saying a few Hail Marys."
The afternoon passed somewhat easily, with everybody eating their fill and wishing we had an antacid or six. Eventually, Tim said he had some kind of history test in the morning, so the fellowship broke up; Bruce went back to the mansion, and I offered Harley a ride home.
"No more cheesecake ever," Harley moaned, rubbing her belly as she slouched down in the seat. "Why didn't I stop after the first slice?"
I smiled to myself. "Because you're a glutton."
"Hey!"
"Kidding, kidding." After a minute or so of driving down darkening roadways, I cleared my throat. "So... if you want, we could... go back to our earlier conversation?"
"Nah," she said pleasantly, though I could tell I'd put her on edge. "All I wanna talk about now is Alka-Seltzer and sleep."
"I'm serious, though; I feel like I keep asking you to put everything on hold, and it's... downright mean, that's what it is, and- and I think I'm r-"
"It can wait a little longer. We got time."
"Really?" We hit a red light, and I chanced a look over. "You're not mad?"
"Mad? I'm friggin' ecstatic!" Truly, her smile was earnest; if she'd only been trying to make me feel better, I would've seen it in her eyes. "Babs, c'mon, think- I'm a free woman, livin' in my own place, with a gal pal who'd breathe down the police's throat to get me sprung and doesn't even care that I'm sappier than a Spielberg flick! Plus, she's a superhero - and so am I! What would I have to be upset about?"
"I dunno," I muttered shyly. "You're sure, though?"
"Quit stressin'. We're gold."
Sooner than I'd have liked, she was back in her apartment with her doggy-bag, and not a great deal later, I was in mine. The wind had been taken out of my sails; I was actually about to say "I think I'm ready" when she cut me off. Would we ever get it over with? Anyway, Bruce was taking a solo watch, so I could get some much-needed rest for once...
. . ᴥ . .
But my subconscious had other plans. All night, I had dreams about Harley - every single one of a, shall we say, passionate nature. I kept waking up in a cold sweat, breathing hard, with my hand wormed into the front of my pyjama pants. I must have taken three cold showers.
The next morning, something came back to me; we had an event to attend. It was lucky I remembered right when I did, because it was that night.
"Hello?"
"Holy shit, Harley, we almost totally missed it!"
A slight pause. "Fine, thanks. How's things with you?"
"Oh, shut up," I snapped frantically. "What are you doing tonight?"
"Um... I dunno, probably a whole lotta nothin'. Why?"
"'Rent'!"
A long moment of silence. Then- "Oh! Right, right, the tickets! Oy, that seems like another lifetime, now."
"Yeah, it kinda does," I laughed, not wanting to think too hard about that night because of what happened a few minutes after I suggested we see it together. "So, you still up for it?"
"Are you kidding? Sounds like a hoot! When is it?"
"7:30," I read off the ticket. "So if we take to the highways by about six, we'll be good, right?"
"Great! I'll be ready."
"Great. Bye!"
This warm, giddy feeling spread through me as I closed my phone. This couldn't end badly - there would be no alcohol to spike in the theatre. Finally, for the first time in almost two months, I could look forward to a peaceful evening with Harley; no mines to sweep, no bullets to dodge. The night belonged to us!
And maybe, just maybe, we could have a minute to talk afterward... if I could manage to force myself to go through with it.
- END SESSION -