It was unbelievably easy for her to fulfill Mr. J's request. After the guards took her love back to his cell, they let Batman in. Almost immediately after, actually...

Right after bats heard what happened to her, He drove straight back to Arkham. He was beyond furious.

When the doctors and nurses told him she hadn't let anyone near her and the bloody bundle but Joker, he still chose to waltz into her medical room. Alone and unafraid. He immediately started pushing her to tell him what happened. He expertly used the things he already knew about her mixed with what he knew of the situation to tug her heartstrings. Trying to manipulate her, get her to trust him, to divulge the truth of what happened... or at least, was banking on her wanting revenge.

The stars had aligned perfectly. She only played stupid; They all forgot that so easily. She couldn't have asked for a better set up... Or a better audience. She knew that Commissioner Gordon and Warden Sharp were more than likely listening in as well... Sharp never passed up a chance to ease drop. So she decided to play into his hand. 'Crack' and 'break' under her loss.

The stage was set. The curtains went down. She took her place and cued the tears.

Harley did as her Puddin asked; She told them EVERYTHING.

Joker broke not long after their meeting and was in a rage. Everyone in Gotham felt it, one way or another. Harley rested in the medical ward and allowed her body to heal. The orderlies brought meals to her. She got clean blankets and sheets every night. A shower whenever she asked. She knew half of the reason was that they were sad for her, the other half was because they were afraid. They knew the wraith of the Clown King and his Queen was already coming down around them. They wanted to make sure they were on her 'Good' side when it hit.

Stage one of the plan, telling everyone what happened, only half-worked... Bats, Gordon, and a few others were heartbroken and pissed. Warden Sharp and Doctor Arkham on the other hand, while seemingly sad about the loss of the baby, seemed to care little about punishing their employees responsible. Johns was the main target, and rightfully so. He got the worse of it all; safe to say his life would never be the same. But no one else went down with him. Just some suspensions, write-ups and a few slaps on the wrist.

The reaction from the GCPD was also lacking in enthusiasm. The police didn't turn on the others like they had hoped. Most of the law enforcement didn't seem to care or was glad not to have to deal with a second-generation clown in Gotham anytime soon. Harley felt insulted. But over half of the department was on SOMEONE'S payroll. As long as they did what they were supposed to when they needed them to, she didn't care how they felt.

Mr. J handled her breakout himself. It had been two weeks, she was healed and in fighting shape if not 100%. She happily joined him in the outside world.

Thus, Stage two of their plan began.

It started small... The eerie feeling of eyes on him, watching every move. Calls in the middle of the night, laced with hate and threats.

Johns ether moved out himself, or his wife kicked him out pretty quick after that. He moved, Solo, to a ratty one room in the slums. Joker couldn't have picked a better dig himself.

That was where stage 3 began. They got some goons that lived in the same building to pound on his door at night, then disappear before he answered the door. They flashed bright lights in his windows every night. Tapped his phone and e-mail, and watched and waited.

When he was on the edge of losing it, they went to Stage 4. They paid the slumlord landlord for a copy of Johns' key. Every time John left his apartment, a goon would go in. They did small stuff at first. Drink the milk until it was gone. Turn the water in the bathroom on. un-make the bed, or make it. Or turn the TV on for when he got back. All of which he would find when he got home.

Then, stage 5. The real fun began. They pinged numbers from the others involved or called them directly from his new apartment's number. e-mails to and from him, that he didn't write. Broken appliances and torn up clothes and linens when he got home. And a literal bloodbath in his tub when he was sleeping off one if his many hangovers. It wasn't real blood, just water, red dye, and flour to thicken it. Harley's idea; Joker liked the personal touch.

Then; on the darkest, Coldest night they could pick; The final .

Joker kicked down the door himself.

Frost to his right, in his suit looking 100% professional. Harley to the Left. Mallet already in hand.

Johns was sitting in one of his old wire kitchen chairs, turned to face the door. It looked like he was expecting them. The shotgun he had in his hands when they entered proved that theory.

Frost moved back quickly behind the wall, getting the concrete between him and the bullets that would soon be flying. Harley hit the ground, dropping her mallet low with her. Joker... The crazy bastard ran right at him.

Around half an hour later, the violence was over. The couple had enjoyed every little whimper of pain Johns suffered together. Frost was downstairs paying the slumlord off as well as one month's rent for everyone in the building. A deal they stuck a few days before.

His arms, hands, legs, and feet were battered and broken in odd angles. Courtesy of Harley's Mallets. Cuts, lacerations, and words of different lengths and widths littered his chest, abdomen, and back. Via joker's knife of the day. All that was left of Johns was a pile of blood in flesh groaning on the tile floor.

Her laughs were pretty hysterical; she couldn't help it. They were taking their sweet time and Joker making this as enjoyable as he could. Jokes, Laughs, giving her first 'crack". The hysterical laughs just escaped her. Then they came faster and faster, she couldn't stop them.

But now it was over. It was to calm and quiet now. John's couldn't scream anymore, Her Puddin was down and worn out, and she was done laughing. All that was left was the final strike and the clean-up.

it had been good twenty minutes of sweet revenge. Of bonding. Of payback... Of... of avenging their baby. She didn't care that the baby wasn't old enough to get a gender, it was a boy. She just knew. And so did Joker.

They had gonna Gotham justice for their Baby Boy.

It was only then that the hysterical tears started. She began softly, and just like the laughter, once it started she couldn't stop. Joker seemed to have been expecting them. He swiftly pulled out one of his double guns holstered under his jacket and gave a lazy head shot to Johns, ending it almost carelessly. He then turned all his attention to Harley. He held her from behind, his face blank, as she cried uncontrollably.

And oh, did she ever cry - More than she ever had before, harder than she ever had before - For her little prince that who never got a chance to live.