Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

A\N: This fic was inspired in part by a Batman fic in the comics section of the site called "More Than Emotion" by DeathNymphetamine. In that story, Two Face and Harley Quinn have a heart-to-heart and wind up having comfort sex. I decided to try a G-rated version of that story in the animated verse. If you can handle the mature stuff, go r&r DeathNymphetamine's story at s/6694169/1/More_than_Emotion. The story also references events which happened in the Animated Series Comic, The Batman and Robin Adventures Issues 1 and 2 (by Paul Dini and Ty Templeton) which are summarized here wiki/Gilda_Dent#In_other_media

A\N 2: Also, bold text=Harvey's thoughts. Italics=Two Face's thoughts.

The average Joes of Gotham would never imagine Two Face doing something as human as sleeping. And yet the feared villain was lying in a bed in an apartment he'd rented with his good eye drifting closed. The rain on the roof made him feel uncharacteristically peaceful. He was on the verge of sleep when he heard the knock on the door.

What the heck?

Peaceful mood gone, he grabbed his machine gun and charged towards the door.

He opened the door, ready to unleash his wrath against whoever was disturbing him, but he stopped dead.

It was Harley Quinn.

Her costume had several rips and tears in it. The tassels hung limply by her elbows, weighed down by the rain. Mascara and greasepaint blurred together on her face.

"Damn, Quinn! You look like something the cat threw up."

She smiled. "Nice to see you too, Twofers." There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He growled. "What the heck do you want? And how'd you know I was here, anyway?"

She pointed to the number above his door. "Who else would be living in apartment 2B at 22 Second Avenue?" Again, there was the sarcasm.

Two Face growled and started to slam the door.

"Wait a minute, Two Face."

Her tone caught his attention. She wasn't speaking in her usual high-pitched, nails-on-a-chalkboard voice, but in her deeper, saner voice. He paused.

"Look. Mr. J kicked me out again. Red's still in Arkham, and I sure as heck ain't going back there. Can I crash at your place, just for the night? Please?"

Who did she think he was? A relationship councilor for psychopaths? Two Face was ready to tell her to buzz off when he felt goody-goody Harvey stirring in the back of his fractured psyche.

Look at her. The poor thing, she's shaking.

Oh no. Two Face said to Harvey. You're not letting that crazy clown bitch into MY lair.

She'll get sick if she sleeps out in the rain.

I don't freakin' care.

Flip for it.

Two-Face growled. He reached into his shirt pocket and grabbed the coin. He flipped it. Good heads.

Fine, but she's sleeping on the couch.

Moments later, not only was Harley on the couch with a blanket, but she had used his shower and was dressed in one of Harvey's old Harvard t-shirts. Now that she had no make-up on, Two-Face could see the beginnings of a black eye.

"Went another round with the clown prince, huh?" he remarked.

Her silence was answer enough.

"Damn it, Quinn! Why do you keep going back to that lowlife? He's going to kill you someday. Do you want that to happen?"

"No." Harley was staring down at the floor like a child being scolded. After a while, she raised her eyes to Two Face.

"I don't know what to tell you, Harvey. I love my puddin'. Haven't you ever loved someone so much that you would do anything to be with them?"

She'd never addressed him by his given name before. Perhaps the shock of her suddenly intimate tone was what prompted Harvey to answer her question (over Two Face's objections).

"Grace. We loved Grace."

"Oh yeah. Wasn't she your fiancée before the whole. . .you know?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

"She got spooked when I tried to kill Bruce Wayne." He didn't really want to go into the whole ugly story, especially not with the girlfriend of the man who had engineered the lie which had led to him almost killing his best friend and losing the love of his life forever. The look of anger and disgust in Grace's eyes as she jammed the Coin into his damaged face was still fresh and raw in his memory.

Fortunately, Harley simply said, "Wow" and didn't ask for any more information.

Harvey brought his fist down hard on a nearby table.

"Some people just aren't meant to have love, Quinn: me, you, the Joker. You're crazy if you think you can make it work with him."

"Yeah, that's what they tell me," Harley replied. This time there was bitterness in her voice, and she began to curl up in a fetal position on the couch.

Harvey sighed. "Look Quinn," he said in a gentler voice, "You can stay here for the night, but I need you out by morning. If you want, I'll help you find a domestic violence shelter. Or you can check back into Arkham. But don't go back to clown for a while. Wait till he cools off."

"Thanks for letting me stay," Harley replied in a friendlier tone, uncurling and stretching out on the couch. She was asleep within minutes.

Harvey watched her. Her blonde hair was down for once, surrounding her head with a curtain of gold. The black eye stood in sharp contrast to her pale skin. And she had the most peaceful expression.

She looks like an angel. A beautiful bruised angel.

Shut up, Harvey. The last thing we need is for you to get all sentimental over the Joker's girl.

Read and review, please. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon.