Disclaimer: I belong to them.
Author's Note: Like Truth, Of Course occurred to me while writing Of White Coats and Straightjackets. All operate on the premise that Harley worked with another theme criminal before Joker. This scene would be after she's gone rogue.
It was raining when he met her at the Iceberg. Harleen's makeup ran beneath neon lights. Elvis played discordantly.
She smiled when Jonathan sat next to her. "I missed you," she said. Blue, black and yellow spread up the harlequin's back like velvet explosions—a declaration of status. Everything she'd saved up for. Hardly worthwhile.
"A flight of stairs, Harleen?" he asked, watching the bartender impassively.
"And I was drunk," she answered. Her lips lit to smirk halfheartedly. "Hit the door coming down too. You should've seen the other guy."
"You're a moron."
He let her into his arms anyway.