(A brief word about love, life, beauty, by Harley)
"There is beauty in the most tragic or imperfect things, there is beauty where ever you look. Beauty cannot be bought, it can never be soled, but it can be both lost and found. I know beauty very well, I've been living surround by it for 6 years today. Do you know what it's like to be surround by beauty for 6 years and never really touch it, not without the velvet glove. It's hell, but still better than any heaven with out beauty. Let's say that nothing matters and everything will one day parish anyway, still wouldn't you love to touch beauty?" Harleen Quinzel asked Joan as they sat at their little indoor table at the small café in Gotham, all hidden and secluded.
"Do you really believe you lived in beauty?" Joan asked, little tape recorder in hand. Joan was doing a psychological profile on Harley, and she felt to top it off she ought to interview her. Harley was smart today, she was 'Harleen' Joan though. Harley sat across from Joan wearing the red skirt suit with the black vest, black pumps and black purse. Her lipstick was bright red like her nails, her hair was pulled back and held with a red clip. But still Harley was Harley Quinn with the wad of grape bubble in her mouth, and secretly Joan wondered what was in that purse. Yet she dare not ask, it would be rude.
"Yes," the high pitched voice said softly, "I believe that because it's true. Joan, what do you think is beautiful?"
Joan thought about this for a second, beauty wasn't something she thought much about, yet now she wanted to answer this question posed by the reformed little Harlequin. Joan sensed Harley had already gone back with Joker, though Harley had not been seen on TV and as far as anyone knew she was still being good, but Joan sensed otherwise. "I don't know…happiness, well being, peace, real happiness."
"Alright then, lets say I was really happy, does that mean my situation was beautiful?"
"You weren't really happy, no one could be happy in that situation."
"How can you say no one could be when I was, that makes no sense. Perhaps no one should be happy in that situation, but it doesn't mean they won't be. Correct doctor?"
"Yes Harley, I'm afraid you. Have you ever thought of going back to being a doctor?"
"What did you think of it?" Joan asked taking a drink of her ice tea. It was a hot summer day, but the café was nice and air conditioned, yet it seemed to bright with the white walls, reminded Joan of her 'work place'.
"I thought, I could go back to being a doctor, only I know I would never help anyone. Then it hit me why I thought I would never help anyone…they don't need cured."
"Your telling me someone who thinks taking the lives of other's for no good reason doesn't need help?"
"I believe that's what I told you doctor. But really you took it a bit out of context, I didn't sat they didn't need help I believe I said they didn't need cured. They need help to control homicidal urges, but not cured of the urges."
"Harley, may I be frank with you?"
"Are you seeing the Joker?"
The nymph of a woman looked Joan straight in the eyes and smiled very calmly saying, "Of course not Dr. Leland."
Joan got an eerie feeling from looking at Harley from being so close to her, Joan figured the scary thing about Harley was that she wasn't scary at all. She was the sweet girl next door, the girl that you've known all your life, the one on the honor roll, with the sweet smile and giddy laughter. The one who's nice to you when no one else is, the girl who helps you with your bags and holds the door, the one that used to baby sit for you with her sweetheart boyfriend. Joan though it was the scariest thing that the nice girl sitting across from her was a cold blooded murderer who laughed happily while she blew someone's head off. The nice nymph all frail and pretty with blonde hair sitting there with baby blue eyes was by night the Joker's wench who merrily joined him in the killing of the innocent.
"Alright. What do you think beauty is?"
"Oh almost anything, beauty is certainly in the eye's of the beholder, I mean I think the Joker is beautiful, yet I think your nobility is also beautiful…mostly because it's tragic, tragedy is probably more beautiful than merriment because tragedy is deep. A flower grows from a pot of dirt, a diamond deep in the earth. You know, haven't you ever seen someone who was truly tragic and thought they were beautiful because of it, opposed to someone who never suffered, not really?"
"Yes, yes I have. I have to admit this is true, but then don't you think a happy, sweet, sunny, happy, day is more beautiful than a rainy one?"
"No, certainly not. And please no rain analogies, rain isn't tragic nor symbolic for tragedy. Rain is symbolic for cleansing, cleaning, purity, perhaps even sadness or guilt, but not tragedy. Tears on the other hand are tragedy, crying, that is tragic, isn't it? I now you do this, kind hearted as you may be you've been desensitized to crying, from working at Arkham. Their crying, wailing, begging, screaming, it means nothing now huh? When you hear someone cry you think, shut up."
"…No, I don't. I have to tune it out that's true, but I never want to tell them to shut up."
"Not even after hours of it while your trying to work? And be honest…"
"I'm only human."
"That's true, and perfectly fine. Have you ever been left alone to cry, all alone wanting someone to come comfort you, but no one ever does?"
"….." Joan said nothing.
"I didn't think so…I have you know. A lot actually, you get used to no one coming after a while, you get used to it. The sound of your own sobs becoming comforting."
"What did you cry about Harley?"
"I cried because I was worried."
"What about, Joker not taking you back?"
Harley laughed a mocking yet soft laughter, "No…no, I never cry about that, when that day comes, if it does then I shall-" Harley stopped a second and skipped that subject going on, "No I cried he wasn't happy, that he would never be happy. Have you ever been in love?" Harley asked, her red lips pouty and glossy.
"Wasn't it wonderful to make them happy. When you looked at them, no matter if you heart was broken and your face tear stained didn't you want nothing in all the world but to real them laugh, to hear them smile. To for one more instant in time pretend the world was good and you were in their arms and they were happy?"
"I-not really. I want us both to be happy, not just him."
"You never loved someone so much you would put aside everything you wanted, everything you cared about. Toss aside your whole world, just to make them happy?"
"…No." Joan said a little unsure of herself, wondering what love like that felt like. She wondered is it was wonderful or horrible, heaven or hell. "What's that like?"
"It's…it's terrifying. It's paradise, with a sky of hell flames." And Harley laughed very softly, she liked to quote things she like with out saying it was a quote…she knew it was wrong but it made her feel smart.
"Did you like it?"
"Ummmm, it tasted like English toffee in Hershey's chocolate with a maraschino cherry, or like an ice cream float with thick syrup and coke–a-cola. But then some days it wasn't so good, some days it was like complete blackness, like you were trapped in a dark hole forever with no hope of seeing the light of day and you knew for certain you were going to die, and you could do nothing but cry. Feel nothing but misery, anguish, heartache, and perhaps that's all you want to feel if you can't be with him and make him happy. Perhaps that's all there is for you."
Joan winced, that seemed so strange, she knew she probably never be in love like that, it didn't seem like a good thing, yet she wondered if she needed or wanted it. "Do you miss Joker any?"
Harley took a sip of the coke and sighed. She glanced out the window and let a minute pass before saying, "To Batman he was Joker, directing he was Joseph Kerr, on good days he was H.A. Laughin, in Arkham he was nameless…but in my arms he was always mistah J. "
Joan did not answer, she just sat there silent a minute before saying, "What will you do now?"
"I asked you what you will do now?'
"Oh…" Harley smiled a dreamy smile and the blue eyes seemed a tad glazed over, she looked away from Joan saying softly, "Pursuer happiness."
By Mistah J's girl
copyright© Mistah J's girl 2001