There are two sheets of yellow paper on my desk, torn from my legal pad, with two lists on each.

The first has a list of pros and cons. The list of pros is, admittedly, much longer, than the list of cons, but I made up for it by drawing my absolute favorite con to take up the rest of the space on that half of the page. So the strikes against staying in my cushy job at Arkham and being a functioning member of the real world won, fair and square.

The second page followed my decision, and it includes a list of stops I need to make before I can move onto the second list, which are the things I'll want with me.

I've been licensed to own a gun since I was of legal age to do so. My father insisted; taught me to shoot and everything. I've kept two guns – one little handgun that I can handle half-asleep and with my eyes closed, and a shotgun that I can hold, shoot, and most importantly, threaten with. The shotgun goes in my bag, the handgun in my new thigh holster, over my new outfit – tight, brightly colored, and not an inch of forgiveness.

I've got some clothes, some makeup, the guns, and a knife – beyond that, there's not much I consider necessary. Harleen had all of Dawson's Creek on DVD; Harley Quinn... Might need those. My movie case is coming with me.

I get some stares on the bus, sure. Some stares that say quite clearly, "my stop is up next – wanna 'get off' with me?" but most say "you're certainly on the way to Arkham."

Which I am.

The guard gives me an exceptionally confused look, which I bat away with a quick, mumbled, "on my way to a costume party – left something into my office," and I'm in. Just like that. My laughter echoes down the hallway of cells, and I see my favorite sleepy prisoner sit up slowly.

"Hiya, puddin'!" I greet cheerfully, aware that I'm almost certainly already attracting negative attention. "No, no, Mistah J," I admonish as he starts to come near the glass separating us, waving him to the back of his cell. "Stay back there..." In a swift motion, I pop the sticky bomb against it and run off. The bang is so satisfying, and I'm pleased to see that my baby is no dumb fool – he's caught up to me within seconds, and we're running together.