A\N: Thank you so much to my lovely readers and reviewers! I'm afraid this last chapter will be darker than the previous ones, but hopefully you'll all enjoy it. As always, I do not own Batman: The Animated Series or any of its characters.

Warning: This chapter contains some language that might be demeaning to women and people with mental illnesses. It is language that I believe Two Face would use and in no way reflects my views. There's also a slight reference to animal cruelty.

Hrrr. Hrrr. The sound of a metal can opener woke Harvey up in the morning. He found himself alone in the bed, with sunlight streaming through the window. He yawned, stretched, and stumbled into the kitchen wearing his half-plaid, half-striped pajamas. Grabbing an early beer, he saw Harley at the kitchen table. Still clad in his Harvard t-shirt, she had her feet propped on the table and was eating pears out of a can.

"Gee, Harv, don't'cha have any real food around here?" Her voice scraped against his eardrums at the same moment her fork scraped against the aluminum can. He winced.

What did we get ourselves into? Two Face's voice moaned in his head.

"Sorry, Harley. I've only got what you've found in the cabinet."

"I want pancakes."

Harvey rolled his eyes. "Pancakes hardly qualify as real food, Harley."

"And that beer does?"

He glared.

"Sorry. It's just that Mistah J. and I have pancakes every morning, with big strawberry syrup smiles." She gazed dreamily off into the distance.

"Do I look like I'm a happy-smiley person in the morning?" Harvey asked with a trace of Two Face's growl in his voice.

"Ya know, it wouldn't hurt'cha to lighten up a little," replied Harley, leaning back in her chair and licking the fork. "Can I at least have some orange juice?"

"This ain't a freakin' Ritz, Quinn. You want pancakes and orange juice, you gotta go get 'em yourself," Harvey snarled, snapping into full Two Face mode.

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

Two Face fought the urge to push her out of her chair and stomped into the living room instead.

He turned on the t.v., and Summer Gleeson's face popped onto the screen, babbling some nonsense about Veronica Vreeland's latest boyfriend. The reporter's blather was soon drowned out by the sound of the shower, accompanied by Harley singing "You Are My Sunshine" at the top of her voice.

Two Face growled and put his hands over his ears.

Oh my gosh. She sounds like a cat that's being skinned alive.

Better not let Catwoman hear you make that comparison.

Shut up. Whatever Catwoman would do to me for that thought is two million times better than listening to that bitch screech in the shower.

As much as I hate to agree with you on anything, I think you might be right about that.

Thank you! You see, this is what happens when we try to be all bleeding-heart noble and shit. What were you thinking letting that broad inside? And then letting her come in our bed and get all cuddly because she's "lonely?"

I don't know if you've noticed, Two Face, but women aren't exactly lining up to be with us right now, much less even touch us. Come on. Who was the last woman to get close to us like that?

Watch it, Harvey.

Come on, say it.

Harvey. . .

Say it.

"It was Grace, damn it!" Two Face yelled out loud.

The sounds of song and shower ceased. Harley stuck her head out of the bathroom door.

"You okay, Harv?"

"MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! And the name's Two Face!"

"All right. Geez, calm down. Say, you wouldn't happen to have anything around here I could wear besides, y'know, that t-shirt."

"Oh sure, Quinn. This place is just full of frilly dresses, cute little miniskirts, and tight little hot pants. And don't forget the high heels! You can have your own walk-in closet for Pete's sake!"

"Ha ha. Seriously, you mind if I look for somethin'?"

"Why the heck are you asking me, anyway?"

"Because, silly, I'm gonna go get pancakes and orange juice for us."

Two Face slapped his forehead with his palm. "Fine. Whatever. Just get something and go."

About thirty minutes later, Two Face was standing over some diagrams he'd drawn for a new death trap, and Harley came out of his room wearing a dress shirt and black-and-white checkered pants. Her torn costume was wadded up in her arms.

"I'll be back in a little bit, Two Face, okay?"

He just grunted.

The moment Harley stepped out the door, Harvey's voice piped up. You know, you were pretty rude to her.

It's what I do, dumbass.

She's not some dumb henchman you can yell at. She's a very beautiful woman.

She and that lunatic clown are the two most annoying people on the whole damn planet!

Okay. She's loud. And squeaky. And she has no sense of personal boundaries. But didn't you hear? She said she was going to get pancakes for us.

So?

She cares about us. And if we're nice to her, she might stick around and keep on caring about us.

There was a long pause. Finally, Two Face spoke up. "You know, I could use a henchwench."

A few hours later, Two Face walked into the back room of the Iceburg Lounge, carrying a suit case. He found Oswald Cobblepot sitting in a red plush chair smoking a long, thin pipe. He looked like a fat goose nesting on a golden egg. His eyes lit up with an avaricious interest when he saw Two Face.

"My dear Harvey, what a pleasure to see you," he exclaimed, bustling over to his fellow Rogue and extending a chubby hand. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"Cut the crap, Penguin. I'm here for the Dark Flame. How much will it cost me to buy it back?"

Cobblepot squawked with indignation. "My dear fellow, I've already set up a deal with a jewelry store in Metropolis. They've offered me five thousand dollars for the Dark Flame."

"I'll give you ten grand," said Two Face, opening the suit case to reveal stacks of money. This broad better be worth it, Harvey, he growled mentally.

To say that Two Face was a little confused about how to be "nice" to a girl was an understatement. But a few months ago, he'd stolen an exquisite necklace known as the Dark Flame. It had red and black teardrop diamonds inlaid in a teardrop-shape pendant which hung from a golden chain. The necklace had been a very "hot" item, so Two Face had decided to fence it to Cobblepot. After much wrangling from Harvey, he'd been convinced that buying the Dark Flame back from Cobblepot and giving it to Harley would be the perfect way to begin wooing her.

Two Face could see Penguin chewing his pipe, a sign that he was deep in thought. "Well, my dear fellow," he said at last. "Normally I have a no return policy. But since you're an old friend and your offer is so generous, I suppose I could make an exception. You're very lucky, I might add, since I was going to sell it tomorrow. But it's still in the safe.

He waddled off.

In the meantime, both Harvey and Two Face's imaginations were quite active. Harvey pictured Harley opening the box containing the Dark Flame. He pictured the way her baby blue eyes would light up. The way her lips would open in shock and ecstasy. Two Face, on the other hand, was trying to imagine Harley's lips against his. Her warm, soft body pressed tightly against his front.

These fantasies were interrupted by Cobblepot's voice. "Here you are my friend, and remember, not a word to anyone that this transaction took place. "

Two Face thrust the suit case at Cobblepot with a grunt, snatched the Dark Flame, put it in his trench coat pocket, and stomped off.

The diamonds were heavy in his pocket as he sauntered down the street, trying for all the world to look like just another faceless Gotham pedestrian. His heart pounded against his ribs, and his whole upper body tingled with anticipation.

He walked past an electronics store, where a pile of t.v.'s were tuned to the local news. An announcement caught his ears:

"Chaos today as the Joker and Harley Quinn robbed a local grocery store."

He stopped dead. No, it couldn't be. . .

But it was. Harley was right there on the screen, wearing her torn costume and face paint. She was laughing hysterically as she punched out a customer with her boxing glove bazooka. The Joker was close by, cackling and trying to run people over with a shopping cart that was loaded with, among other things, orange juice and pancakes.

The good side of Harvey's mouth dropped open. "How-how could she be back with the Joker less than 48 hours after he beat her up and kicked her out?" he asked. "She was supposed to be ours now. She was supposed to be mine!"

In reply, Two Face lifted up their gnarled hand and pointed a finger at the image of Joker and Harley spraying the customers with laughing gas. "Face it, Harvey. We just can't give her that brand of crazy. And that's worth more to her than any rock."

They suddenly remembered that they were on a public street. People were staring at them. Two Face growled and pulled his large hat further down on his face before stalking off. He tossed the Blank into the river.

He headed back to the apartment and began packing his few possessions in a box. It was time to get a new hideout-hopefully one where he wouldn't be found by any more lovesick blonde twits. He was almost ready to go when he spotted a piece of paper on the kitchen counter.

Dear Two-fers,

Thanks for letting me stay here last night. I ran into Mr. J on the way to the grocery store, and we worked things out. So I'll be okay now. And I think you will too. Just keep looking for that special person. She'll be lucky to have both of you.

Love,

Harley

Two Face grabbed the slip of paper in his disfigured hand, ready to tear it to pieces. But after a few minutes, he changed his mind and put it in the box.