Here I was again. Lockup. The clink. The little house. Limbo. Cooling my heels...
Everything between when Babs grabbed my wrists and that moment was kind of a blur. Some words came out of my face, then I ran, and then... I dunno. I told the cops I was out for a jog - you don't get picked up as many times as I have without knowing your default alibis - but truth is, I didn't really know why I was running, or where they found me. But now-
"Harleen Quinzel?"
Ugh. Not another interrogation. "Who wants to know?" I asked without thinking.
"Your roomie," said a way too familiar voice. I sat up so fast I almost fell off the bench a big woman with no eyebrows had let me have (I think she thought she could collect on that favour once we'd been upgraded to the state penn).
"Babsy!" I shrieked, grasping the bars. "Oh, Babsy, I can't- what are you- how'd you know I-"
"I called in here to see if they'd found anybody matching your description," she said casually. Probably a lie, but what did I care? "You were gone all night, where were you?"
"Oh, you know how these things go," I bluffed with a giggle. "You go for a walk, you end up lost, and then you start to panic and it's-"
"Nevermind that now," she said, patting my hand and smiling wearily. Holy guacamole, did she look tired - not to mention all the bruises. A shiner and a bloody lip. Why was she bothering to spring me? "I'm just glad you're not roadkill. God, you had me at the end of my rope!"
As I grinned wider than I really felt like doing, I noticed the Commissioner a few doors down, frowning at the two of us. I'm sure he thought his daughter had really, really lost it, but I knew better; she was just a good person. But I wasn't deluding myself, either. I knew everything wasn't going to be sunshine and puppies from here on out.
About twenty minutes later we were finally getting into her car, able to relax now that we weren't surrounded by boys in blue. Then we were inside the car, and the tension in the air was thicker than before. Bleh. Maybe I should say something, just to try to break it.
"So," I said.
"So."
For a while, we just sat there. That didn't work. Babs started the engine and buckled up, but still didn't take it out of park. Finally, as she used checking her mirrors to delay the inevitable, I blurted, "I can get a cab, y'know."
"No, that's stupid. I can at least drop you off, or..."
But we both accepted that sentence fragment as a good place to stop. It wasn't, but we did, anyway. She pulled out of the space, onto the road, and we were at a light when she said, "Hell."
"What?"
"I'm out of gas. I don't have enough to get back to the apartment."
"There's a BP on 14th."
"There is?"
"Sure. They got a Golden Pantry."
She frowned at me. It was better than nothing. "No, that one's down on 19th."
"What?"
"That BP is on 19th. I think you're thinking of the Farmland milk store."
"Nuh-uh! There's no Farmland on the East side!"
"Sure there is. Two of them, I think..."
"Really?" I hesitated. "No, no there ain't, I'm right. The BP is on 14th, and it's just a liquor store on 19th."
"Shut up, you're cra..."
We froze, both glancing over at the same moment. Those were guilty eyes. I'd known enough criminals to know what they look like by now. She really did think I was crazy. I might be, but I hated her looking at me like that.
"Harl-"
"No, don't," I whispered. "I, uh... I think I'd rather we not do this. I'll just pretend I forgot where you live, or that we used to know each other, and we won't have to drag it all through the muck."
"But Harley, I just want to say-"
"Babs, c'mon, I-"
"I want to say I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" I was getting angry. I didn't want to, didn't have any right, but I couldn't help it; here I was trying to make this easier on both of us and she still wanted to hash it out. "Sorry for thinking I'm as psycho as ever, or sorry I found out?"
"I don't know, both?" When I opened my mouth again, she rushed ahead. "Harley, I don't know, okay? It's like I don't know anything anymore, what to do, what to think, who to-"
"Sorry. You got every right to think I'm nutty as a fruitcake. There really ain't such a thing as a clean slate, I know, but... just so I can say I said it, I'll say it one more time. I didn't take those diamonds."
"Then where'd they come from?" she pleaded, turning to me as she came to a stop next to a pump at the 14th Street BP station (told ya). "If you didn't take them, how did they get into your belt?"
"I don't know that, either! You're Batgirl, you're the Commish's kid, why don't you figure it out?! All I know is I'm being set up!"
She looked taken aback, but at that exact second, I didn't care. With every passing second, I felt more and more alone, and all I wanted to do was hop the first train out of Gotham so I could start getting used to it. But before I could find the will to get out of the car, she said, "That's what Bruce said."
I blinked. "H... he did?"
"Yeah." She sighed, leaning back as if she'd run a marathon or three. "And... I agree with him. I hope you don't blame me for making sure, though."
"Making-"
"You're not crazy." She smiled weakly. "Fact is, next to you, I think I might be the wacko, but... I don't think you're having memory lapses, or lying or whatever. The diamonds would have made sense, but... but that bracelet? What a gaudy piece of trash. Maybe you weren't brought up by lords and ladies, but you've got better taste than that."
I laughed wetly. "Y-you don't have to say all this stuff, Babs. Not just to make me feel better. I know you think I'm still-"
"You're not," she said firmly, and I think she surprised even herself with her constancy on that front. "I mean... not really. Or at least, only as nuts as the rest of the world is. I don't think I've ever met anybody who has both feet firmly planted on the ground in my whole life; at the very least, they have one pinky toe in the air."
"B-B-Babsy-"
"That doesn't mean we're good," she whispered sadly, which halted me from breaking down into a joyful puddle of blubbering. I wished she would have let me! "We are, pretty much, but... but I want you to tell me something first."
No. I couldn't do it. No amount of money or finery could make me- "What is it?" Oops. Didn't mean to say that.
"What did you mean?"
Time to play coy - play for time. "By what?"
"You know what."
Like that was enough to bypass my defenses. "Uh, if ya don't mind, the whole night is kind of a blur now; maybe you can-"
"Don't bullshit me!" she hissed, rolling over to look at me with a weird intensity that I'd never seen in her features before. It was almost awe-inspiring, even with the bruises. Maybe because of them. "What did you mean when you said I'm what you want out of life?"
"Oh, that." Drat. Did she have to remember that part?
"Yes, that."
"What do you think I meant?"
"Oh, no," she half-laughed. "You're not getting off with that Psychology 101 mumbo jumbo. Tell me."
"I don't know," I said desperately. My hand drifted toward the door handle. Now was the exact wrong time - if there ever would be a right one at all. "It's all a blur, like I said, and half the time I was just talkin' outta my-"
"Harley."
I was looking out the window. Her eyes were on me, I could feel them, boring right through layer after layer of my being, trying to find their way to the center of my heart. But I had to close it off. There was nothing but blackness in there. "You're my best bud, okay? What more do you want?"
"The truth would be nice."
"That is the truth." Stupid tear ducts were working overtime. Didn't they know it was the weekend? "There's nothin' truer I could say."
Aw, crap. I looked. I told myself not to, but my head turned and stared right into her eyes, and I saw she was crying as hard as I was, except quietly. Sneak. I knew what was wrong with me - aside from the usual laundry list, I mean. But why-
"Dumb blonde... you're gonna send me to an early grave, you know that? Rgh... and why did you have to beat me up?"
"Oh..." My hand went to my lips. "Oh, Babs, I really am sorry about that, I feel awful, I- you should be bustin' my skull right about now! We were- and I- sheesh, I don't even get it myself! Why the hell would I ever wanna hit you?"
"Maybe because I was being a crappy friend." I could see her throat moving to swallow, but it was having a lot of trouble. She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "I should've had more faith in you, Harl, but instead I... took the circumstances at face value. Wow, major points for me."
"Forget it," I sobbed, reaching over and squeezing her so hard I actually did hear her go "HNNGH!". "Forget the whole disaster, I- God, I can't believe I-"
"You have no idea how scared I was! All night, I d-didn't know if you'd been run over, or fell down a cliff, or- or-"
"Babs, I just- I'm just so relieved, and- and happy! I'm so happy right now, I'm so, so happy!"
"Then why are you crying, dumbass?!" she sobbed into my shoulder. We both started laughing, bawling, and generally making a mess of her car for at least ten minutes; several people were staring. Oh, well - let 'em.
. . . . . . . . . . . . ۞ . . . . . . . . . . . .
It was obvious that we'd made up, because things became very, very easy between Batgirl and the Lark-on-hiatus. To watch us, you'd probably think we knew each other since high school, even though Harley's a few years my senior. It felt so nice to get all that angst out of the way and just let the good times roll or whatever. Movies, and bowling, and shopping, and ice skating, and a birthday party for one of my coworkers - he was turning twenty-one, and that in and of itself guaranteed it would be ridiculous. Harley, actually, appointed herself designated driver - can you believe it? Me, plastered and falling all over myself, and her holding back my hair while I puked in somebody's rosebush. Is that irony? Yes, I'd say so.
But our ongoing slumber party didn't go on very long, because it was only a few days later that April First came... which, for her, meant Moving Day. We would obviously continue to be friends, yes, but for that half-week I'd actually really begun to enjoy having Harley as a roommate. Maybe that makes me a horrible person for not appreciating her company before... or maybe I'd become as crazy as she supposedly was, and therefore this was all very disappointing from an outside perspective. Either way, we'd grown so close that we were almost like sisters, and now she was moving out. Bad timing, that's all it is.
Don't count me out, though. I know you were thinking I'd carelessly shrugged off the gravity of the little comment she made right before turning my face into hamburger, but I didn't; I just decided to let it go. We'd go back to that when she was ready, and if that day never came... ah, who cares? Even though I still caught myself wondering exactly how I became friends with her, of all people, the newfound friendship was more important to me than chasing after ghosts.
We got to her apartment early on the morning of the Third, just to take a preliminary look around. She told me she'd been cleaning and painting while I was at work, and it showed; a fresh coat of pale blue on every wall, with white baseboards and a tasteful oriental rug in the middle of the living room (hardwood floors - my God, who did she have to kill?!). When I asked her why she didn't go with something like red, she acted kind of nervous and depressed. I'm not sure what that was about.
"The couch is gonna go here," she said excitedly, gesturing to a spot against one wall as I set down a box full of her clothes. "I'm gonna look at some thrift stores and stuff before I end up at Weekends Only; never know when you'll get lucky."
"Mmm," I grunted, massaging my shoulder. The only drawback? Fourth floor... no elevators. That could get old quick.
"And I really, really want a big teevee like yours. Know where I can get one without selling a kidney?"
I laughed. "Not really. Actually, mine was a housewarming gift from Daddy, so I don't even know how much they cost... probably at least a thou."
"Nutbunnies." She frowned at the spot where she imagined it going. "Ah, that can wait, I'll shop around. But c'mon, I wanna show you the bedroom!"
The tour didn't take long. She had a nice-sized bedroom with plenty of closet space, a cozy kitchen, new appliances... the "office" the ad had mentioned was just barely large enough for a modest desk and a chair, but that was more than forgivable next to all the good points. Even the half-bath was fairly roomy, despite lack of tub.
"Gotta hand it to you, Harley," I said, coming back out of the master bedroom. "This is a find."
I could see her glowing already. "Ya like it?"
"You might want to watch your back; I almost feel like stealing it from you."
We laughed, but then she suddenly said, "Y'know, if you ever need to crash here for some reason, I totally owe you, feel free."
"Thanks, I appreciate that."
"I mean it, even if it's, y'know, permanent - in fact, maybe you should keep my spare key, 'cos I'd probably lose-"
"Harley, it's okay," I laughed, patting her on the shoulder. "You don't need to bend over backwards like that, I'm fine. It was a fun for a while, right?"
"Yeah." A wistful look came over her as she studied her Crocs. "I just... well, I felt rotten for bein' in your way all the time. I bet you wanted to have a boy or two over in the past, y'know, half a year!"
Then I laughed again, maybe a little louder than I meant to. "Oh, right! Because I'm a babe magnet like that!"
"C'mon, not once?" She was making those conspiratory eyes at me, dropping her voice for no reason. "What about the slab of beef from the party, uhh... oh, whatsisname?"
"Jared," I groaned. "That tool? Please. He's a nice enough guy at the office and he's not bad off, but when you get him in any kind of social situation, he's like-"
An understanding nod. "Okay, yeah, now I remember how he was acting at the party. But then again... you weren't exactly a lady that night, either."
My face began to grow hot. "Wh- I- I'm sure I don't remember what you're talking about."
"You lie like my oriental rug!" She giggled, I turned a deeper brick colour, and I was just about to stick my tongue out at her when she said, "Um... Babs?"
"What?"
"Nothin', I just... when I helped you out, when you were, uh..."
"Evacuating the contents of my stomach onto the next door neighbour's lawn?"
"That." Without warning, she swept across the living room and looked out the window, as if spotting something interesting across the street. "You said somethin' to me between spinal bops. It was kinda weird."
"I did?" That was kinda weird, but mostly because I had no idea what she was talking about; I thought I was doing well to recall that I threw up. "Man, was I trashed."
"As a skunk." She glanced back at me, then out the window again. "I was just wonderin' if you remembered what you were talkin' about? Couldn't catch it all."
"Sorry," I laughed. "That night's mostly an inebriated haze."
She shook her head, turning back to me with that big grin in place like it was always there. "Just curious, that's all. No biggie."
I felt myself beginning to share this curiosity. "What did I say, again?"
"Hmm? Oh, you said, 'Harley, if only you were a'... and then ya almost fell over into the puddle of puke you'd just made. Be glad for my quick reflexes!"
Our smiles mirrored each other; both equally fake, both a front for our real feelings. Mine was masking confusion - what was behind hers?
This was what I'd been dealing with ever since I'd rescued her from the holding cell; though most of the time we got along great, every once in a while we'd run across an unexpected burst of strangeness that jarred both of us. She recovered first, and I think that's because I'm the one in the dark. Of course I didn't enjoy it, but like I said, I was doing my best to let it go until she was ready.
. . ᴥ . .
"How'd it go out there?"
Bruce shook his head as he removed his cape, draping it over a table. "No better than usual, but no worse, either. How about you?"
"Whatever." My suit was waiting for me to shrug into it and ready myself, but before I could do that... "So, any progress?"
A bitter chuckle. "You keep asking me that, but I already told you; the criminals had cut the feed to the video cameras in the diamond exchange. There's nothing to tell me who might or might not have been there."
"Did you check on the camera from the pawn sh-"
"Yes," he sighed. "And even those looters had the foresight to bring a can of Rustoleum. Barbara, I know you want to catch this invisible perpetrator, but maybe you should concede the possibility-"
"I know, I know, she might really have done it. Don't worry, I'm not ruling it out, but you know how I feel."
He paused thoughtfully halfway through unfastening his belt. "How do you feel?"
"What do you mean?"
"About the briefest member of Team Bat. Would you say the two of you are... acquaintances?"
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, okay, Mr Tactful, so we're all chummy - two peas in a pod. Maybe I'd have been a little ashamed to say so before, but... she's a decent human being. More decent than a lot of people who haven't been institutionalised, actually."
"Hmm."
"What's 'hmm', hmm?"
"You may or may not have realised," he went on, booting up his computer and checking whatever it is he checks so frequently, "but every time she comes up in conversation, you seem... hmm."
"Still 'hmm'ing, huh?"
"Let's say... less dismal, then."
I blinked. "Dismal? You think I'm dismal?" A slight, nearly imperceptible shrug was my only answer. "Oh, that's nice. Remind me to put that down on your birthday card - 'To a truly dismal friend'."
"I'd be flattered that you even remembered my birthday."
"But are you serious? When we're talking about Harley, I mean."
"A bit. Not so much that I'm worried or anything. I merely found it curious."
I scoffed. "There's that word again, 'curious'. Harley was 'curious' the other day, and it nearly drove me through the roof."
"Curious about what?"
My face started to feel warmer. "Nevermind."
. . . . . . . . . . . . ۞ . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Looks like our time really is up this time."
I sat bolt upright. "What? What d'ja say?"
Dr Leland smiled, clicking off her microcasette recorder. "This is the final session. Didn't you remember?"
Before I could stop myself, I was smiling widely. "You mean... ya mean I'm cured?"
"Harleen," she warned.
"I know, I know, we're not supposed to call it that, but it's so hard not to when- when I'm legally one hundred per cent sane!"
She laughed. "As sane as you can be as a member of the human race. Congratulations, Harley, you're a free woman."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I crowed, hugging her once more (which I could tell she found uncomfortable, but I could care less right then). "Evan Almighty, wow, I can't wait to tell Babs, she'll be pleased as punch!"
"Yes - there's just one more thing." She glanced at the clock as I grabbed for my purse; it was one-oh-four. "This is on me, and off the record. If you don't want to answer that's fine, and it won't matter as far as my psychological evaluation goes."
I didn't like the sound of that. "Okay, shoot."
"Your former roommate, Barbara... what is she to you?"
A nervous chuckle. "Is this a trick question?"
Dr Leland put her clipboard, recorder and pen aside, taking off her glasses and stashing them in her breast pocket. For the first time, I noticed how velvety brown her eyes were. "Harley, to be honest, I'm... concerned."
"Well, you're a little late with this, since you already said it won't affect my evaluat-"
"You seem more attached to her than I'd consider healthy. It's nothing that would make you 'insane' per se, people become attached to persons or things every day, but... I am worried about you, ah, repeating old patterns."
"Don't be," I said pleasantly, standing and stretching to show my intent to flee this grilling session at the first opportunity. This wasn't open for discussion - no more than I was going to volunteer that someone keeps trying to frame me for kicks. A girl is allowed one or two secrets, ain't she? "I'm just glad I finally got a gal pal - somebody I can actually trust. Everything's tip-top, doc!"
"I'm sure it is," she said with a smile. "That's it. But you know, I do hope to see you again sometime."
I gave her a lopsided frown. "To be honest, I've had enough talkin' to shrinks to last three or four lifetimes... no offence."
"None taken. But I'm serious - if you ever have any questions or problems, or if you need a safe space to vent, my door is always open, and the tape will stay off. Even if you just want to say hello." Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again; as she started speaking, I could see her ever-professional manner bear the tiniest crack. "Moot though it may be to mention, we... lost a potentially great mind in the field those many years ago when you bit off more than you could chew. The staff and I miss having you around."
Gotta admit, I was truly touched; she must have been sent by my guardian angel, if I still had one. "Thanks, Doc. Y'know, you really are the only psychiatrist who's ever triedto understand me and didn't just write me off."
"There are plenty of quacks out there." The bridge of her nose crinkled. "That's off the record, as well."
- END SESSION -