"It was Eddie Nygma," said Harley, sitting in the interview room with her arms folded across her chest as she chewed her bubblegum. "Mr. J won't mind me telling you that. Eddie Nygma told him a riddle about Batman's identity, and he said Bruce Wayne knew the answer. Not surprised that Eddie lied, though. He's a real bastard, and he and Mr. J have never been friends. But you can't tell Mr. J these things when he gets excited – he don't listen to anyone. He was really looking forward to clearing up the mystery of who you were. So he set up a joke."

"A joke?" repeated Batman, looking across the table at Harley.

"Yeah. Bruce Wayne's a playboy billionaire, right? Always seducing the ladies. So Mr. J thought it would be really funny to have a lady seduce him for once, y'know, really make him care about her and then break his heart. It was gonna be a lot of work, but he knew I could do it. He trusted me to do it, because he loves me. And I did do it, and I did a really good job, and puddin' was really proud of me."

She beamed at him. "The night he attacked you in your shower, he was genuinely strangling you," said Batman, quietly. "And you genuinely beat him."

Harley giggled. "Aw, that was nothing, Bats! That's what we call foreplay, y'know? Nothing puts me and Mr. J in the mood like a little random violence. Wish you hadn't dragged him off to Arkham – we could have had a fun night."

She giggled again, blowing a bubble and popping it. Batman stared at her, then rose slowly. "I've already apologized to Bruce Wayne that all this happened to him because of me. I hope one day the Joker will stop harming innocent people just in order to hurt me. But perhaps you'd like to apologize to Bruce Wayne too. He's waiting outside."

"Apologize?" repeated Harley, blowing another bubble. "What for?"

"For using him to try to hurt me," retorted Batman.

"Hey, everyone uses everyone else," retorted Harley. "That's the way the world works, Bats. Bruce Wayne knows that if anyone does. Or do you think he's got all his money by honestly caring about everyone he deals with? What happened between us was just business. Bruce will understand that if anyone will."

"I'm disappointed, Harley," murmured Batman, quietly. "I truly thought you could change."

"And why would I wanna do that?" asked Harley. "I'm happy, Bats. Mr. J makes me happy. Sure, people think I'm crazy. Let 'em. If they don't understand me, that's not my problem. I stopped caring what people think a long time ago. The sooner you stop too, the better. You spend your whole life trying to be the hero. When are you gonna realize that it don't matter what people think of you, as long as you have some fun?"

Batman didn't respond. "I'll get Bruce," he murmured. After a quick change in the Batmobile, he re-entered the room as Bruce Wayne.

Harley looked up at him and smiled. "Hi, Bruce! How's Alfred? I guess he's still got quite the headache, huh? Tell him it wasn't anything personal – he seemed like a nice guy."

Bruce Wayne stared back at her, but said nothing, sitting down. "You seen Bats?" continued Harley. "Don't you think he's looking a little thinner? I mean, I know you don't know him well, but Mr. J does, and he thinks he's lost a little weight. I hope he ain't depressed or nothing, on account of you almost having your face cut off because of him."

"Aren't you going to say you're sorry for hurting me, Harley?" murmured Bruce.

"I ain't sorry for hurting you!" snapped Harley, angrily. "I ain't sorry about anything I do for Mr. J! You can't understand that because you've never loved anyone, Bruce!"

"Oh yes, I have," murmured Bruce, quietly. "Deeper than you know. But they always get taken away from me, one way or another."

"It's kinda hard to feel sorry for a playboy billionaire, Bruce, I'll be honest," retorted Harley. "Anyway, don't be upset about losing me. You never really had me. The girl you cared about didn't exist – it was just an act. Just a joke, y'know?"

"It wasn't very funny, Harley," murmured Bruce.

"Oh, maybe not to you," replied Harley, smiling. "You ain't got a sense of humor - you're just like the Bat. But Mr. J thought it was a laugh riot. I mean, think about it, Bruce. You said you'd heard all about how committed I was in my relationship with Mr. J. And you honestly thought I'd just give all that up? That I'd somehow miraculously changed? It was a real joke on you, y'see. And if you were stupid enough to believe it, that's kinda funny."

"I don't think it was stupid of me to care for an attractive, open, honest, friendly, sweet, vulnerable young woman who needed a friend," retorted Bruce.

"Yeah, it was," replied Harley, grinning. "Because I ain't none of those things, Bruce. Well, except the attractive thing. You don't know me at all."

"I know you deserve better than some disgusting abuser," snapped Bruce.

"You don't know what I deserve," snapped Harley. "And it ain't about what I deserve anyway. People generally don't deserve anything except a slow and painful death. It's about what I want. I want Mr. J. I love Mr. J. Oh sure, you may be nice, Bruce, you may be a sweet, sincere guy, but why would I ever want that when I have Mr. J? There are tons of nice guys out there – you're a dime a dozen. But there's only one Joker. He's original and special and unique. And he's mine. And that makes a gal feel good, y'know?"

"To be demeaned and humiliated by him?" demanded Bruce.

"Nah. To be with him, Bruce," murmured Harley. "To be with him. That's what makes me happy. That's all. To be near him, to be useful to him, and special to him, to see his smile and hear his laugh. I don't want nothing else in the world."

Bruce nodded slowly, standing up. "I'm not going to argue with a lunatic," he said. "Whether you realize it or not, Harley, you did a bad thing. And I hope your conscience, which I know is still in there somewhere, eats away at you for it. I hope you feel guilt for what you've done, just as I hope one day I can forgive you for it."

"Ain't you magnanimous?" retorted Harley, sarcastically. "What a great guy you are, Bruce Wayne, to forgive a silly gal like me. As if you ain't never done a bad thing."

"Oh, I have," retorted Bruce. "More than you know. And they all haunt me every night."

"That could drive a guy crazy after awhile," replied Harley, grinning. "So I guess I'll see you in the madhouse, Bruce!"

Her laughter followed him out of the room. Returning to the Batcave, he was surprised to see Robin there waiting for him.

"Waiting to say I told you so?" asked Batman, pulling off his mask.

"Nah. Although I did," replied Robin, smiling. "I was actually waiting to see if you're ok."

"As ok as usual," replied Batman. "Like I said, Dick, I have to be. There's no choice. Maybe other guys can mope over heartbreak, but I have a city to protect. Gotham's the only thing I should be caring about anyway."

"You shouldn't berate yourself for caring about someone, Bruce," said Dick. "Just because you made the wrong choice this time doesn't mean you will next time…"

"There won't be a next time," interrupted Bruce. "There can't be. It's too dangerous. I put everyone I cared about in danger. It was a stupid thing to do. And I nearly did worse than that. For one crazy moment I was going to tell her about Batman. I really wanted to trust her."

"Why?" asked Robin.

Batman was silent. "Because I see a lot of myself in her," he said, quietly. "A victim of the Joker's, and yet someone who can't help but keep returning to him. Someone who can't change that pattern of violence. Although I think in her case it's voluntary."

"And it's not in yours?" asked Robin.

"Like I said, I don't have a choice," retorted Batman.

"Master Wayne, message from Commissioner Gordon," said Alfred, entering with a bandage around his head. "He needs you at the GCPD right away."

"Alfred, I'm sorr…" began Batman, but Alfred interrupted.

"There is nothing to apologize for, sir. Although I can't say it wouldn't be gratifying to learn that the next time you encounter Miss Quinn, she suffers more than her usual share of pain."

"I'll do my best," replied Batman, managing a smile.

"Shall we, Bruce?" asked Robin.

Batman looked at him and slowly pulled his mask on again. If he had to hide his heart just like he hid his face, that was what he was going to do. There were more important things in the world than Bruce Wayne's heart. He didn't have the luxury of pining over lost love. He was Batman. And he was needed.

"Let's go," he murmured, following Robin into the Batmobile and driving off into the night.

The End