Disclaimer: Maybe I'm lying. Maybe I do own DC. The world can never know for sure. :-P

Author's Note: 'Loyalty' is one of several oneshots branching off the premise that Dr. Quinzel worked with another theme criminal before Joker. This scene would be after Harleen's gone rogue.


In Scarecrow's lab, Harley Quinn sulks.

"Pam's not talking to me," she says while he continues analyzing his latest test subject. Heart attack was the cause of death, but whether this resulted from overdose or what memories it inspired remains a mystery. Hm. "Jonathan."

"I don't blame her," he says without turning, scalpel between white-gloved fingertips. Incision. Incision. "You're not being rational."

Harleen groans, flops back against the counter while swinging her legs dramatically. "Don't you start with me too. Whatever happened to 'friends through thick and thin'?"

"I don't believe either of us signed up for that." Jonathan draws out a little fluid, the needle glinting like silver under artificial lighting.

"You're nasty."

"I'm honest. I'm also letting you stay because Dr. Isley has lost patience and your boyfriend is throwing a temper tantrum. Don't be stupid."

She scowls at that. "J's not the only one who goes into moods. If you really loved me, you'd say something comforting. Make me feel better."

"Are you three?" He sets his equipment aside, but doesn't turn. "If I really loved you, I would stop enabling you."

"So instead you're sharing the roof over your head and the food on your table?" Harleen cocks an eyebrow at him.

"Exactly. Maybe you'd actually deal with something if I kicked you out. You're clearly not absorbing the consequences of your decisions this way."

She rolls her eyes and slides off the chair. "I've absorbed plenty. Wanna know how I got these scars?"

"Oh, shut up." He's tearing his gloves off, more irritated than he wants to be.

It doesn't help when she hugs him from behind. "I do appreciate it, ya know."

"You're a terrible liar." Harleen nuzzles. Jonathan glares. "Stop touching me."

"I mean it Jonny. The truth is, I think you're terrific."

She's teasing. He looks to the ceiling for comfort and finds none. "I think you're a pest. Get off."

"I'm comfy." Unsurprisingly, the clown doesn't budge.

"I could stab you, Harleen."

"But you won't." There is a certain smugness when she says it—the cheater certain of victory.

Jonathan plays along with a sigh. "And why is that?"

"Because you love me."